#that is my story that I love and have put my heart into it and other people love it too!

[writetheidea]

Too Much to Be Enough

Hello, I had another idea for a fan fiction. In this one, I tried writing with an unnamed character after someone reached out to me suggesting that I shouldn't tag "x reader" even if the character had a short name. They were not this polite in their wording. Kindly let me know if you find this more enjoyable and if you have any advice or feedback.

Pairing:  Franco Colapinto x female character

Plot: everyone thinks she's too much—too loud, too affectionate, too overwhelming—but as long as Franco loves her, she feels enough. When a painful betrayal forces her to question everything, she’s left wondering if even his love can truly be unconditional.

Tag: hurt/no comfort, angst.

Word count: 2077

Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style - so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though.

Franco Colapinto had become a rising star in Formula 1—his unexpected debut mid-season with Williams brought attention, intrigue, and the buzz of fans enamored by his unfiltered charm and skill on the track. To the world, he was a formidable talent, sharp in his focus and strategic in his every move. But to her, Franco was simply her Franco—the person she adored with every fiber of her being, the man who lit up her world with his easy laugh and grounded presence. She never tried to share him with the world; her joy was simply in being there. To Franco, she was a grounding force. To her, he was the brightest point of her life.

Their relationship had always been natural, filled with the kind of closeness that felt both unbreakable and safe. She loved to be near him, to catch the quiet smiles he reserved just for her or hold him close, her arms around him like a shield. She had a way of finding him when he was deep in conversation, slipping her arms around him or perching on the arm of a chair, just listening, watching him with eyes that spoke of adoration. She adored him openly and shamelessly, kissing his cheeks, bringing him little snacks between meetings, and laughing at his every story as if it was the first time she'd heard it. It was how she showed love—boldly, sincerely.

In public, her spirited affection sometimes drew raised brows. She was quick to laugh, unrestrained in her warmth, the kind of person who got excited over the little things. When she spoke, her voice had a way of filling the air, especially when she became passionate, her laughter rich and booming. Franco’s teammates would sometimes tease her for it, not unkindly, but she felt Franco’s protective arm settle around her back, his voice lowering to gently bring her back to the moment, a silent reminder that she was safe, that she didn’t need to hold back. She never felt like too much with him; she felt like enough.

When Franco got his F1 call-up, the world saw his potential, his brilliance. He went from a promising driver to a star almost overnight, and with that came the scrutiny, the endless, dissecting gaze of the world. There were new pressures, new challenges—he was praised and criticized in equal measure, and with him, she found herself swept up too. Fans adored him—his directness, his humor, his daring spirit. He was the next big thing, and with that title came every word spoken about him, every inch of him magnified. And suddenly, they wanted to know her, too. Who was Franco Colapinto’s girlfriend?

But their adoration of Franco didn’t extend to her.

She’d never been the kind of girl who worried about attention, but the way the public spoke about her… it was like a slow, smothering weight pressing down on her heart. They saw only a girl who seemed too clingy, too loud, and too unfitting of someone they had put on a pedestal. Her open affection was criticized as immature, her laughter labeled as attention-seeking. They dissected her every move and labeled her a distraction, tearing into her with the kind of brutality she’d never experienced. It felt like strangers were peeling her apart piece by piece, tearing away the person Franco had always loved.

She tried to ignore it at first, comforting herself with the knowledge that Franco didn’t seem to mind, that he even loved her as she was. Franco was all that mattered; his opinion was the one she trusted. He was the only reason she could keep her head up, brushing off the hate as long as she knew she had his love. And when Franco looked at her, his smile never wavered. She held onto that—the belief that he loved her as she was, even when the world made her question it.

But then came Brazil. She’d been watching from the paddock, her heart leaping every time he turned a corner, nerves twisting as he went head-to-head with some of the most seasoned drivers in the world. And then, the crash. It was terrifying, watching him collide and skid, helpless from a distance as her heart stopped, praying he was okay. Her relief was overwhelming when he emerged unharmed, but Franco’s face had been pale, his expression distant as he made his way off the track. She could see the weight of the moment pulling him under, the strain and pressure breaking through his usually calm demeanor. She wanted to reach for him, to pull him close, tell him she was there for him, that she would carry the weight if she could.

But he’d pulled away from her, muttering that he needed a minute to gather himself. Respecting his space, she’d wandered to the restroom, splashing water on her face, telling herself he’d come around, that he just needed time. She returned to his room, pausing outside, not wanting to intrude if he still needed space. And that’s when she heard it.

“…but don’t you think she’s a bit much?” The voice was that of his engineer, a man she’d thought liked her, someone she’d shared a few laughs with before. “She’s always there. Always talking, always needing to be… close. Must be a lot to deal with when you’re under this kind of pressure.”

She waited, her breath frozen, trusting that Franco’s response would ease her worry, that he’d brush it off as nonsense, defend her like he always had.

But his voice—the voice she trusted, the voice that had always assured her she was enough—spoke words she could barely stand to hear. Franco responded quieter than she’d ever heard it. “Yeah… I mean, sometimes. It’s a lot, too much, you know?”

She could hardly breathe, the words sinking in slowly, one by one, like sharp blades against her skin. He thought she was too much. A lot. The one person she thought she could be her fullest self with, the person who had always made her feel safe to love so openly, to be unapologetically herself—he was overwhelmed by her too. She was his burden, the weight that followed him. Tears began to blur her vision, but she stayed frozen, rooted in place as she listened to them continue, laughing and talking about her as though she were some trivial inconvenience, as though her love was suffocating him.

She backed away from the door, her heart breaking with every step. The tears came fast and hot, her whole body trembling with the force of them as she stumbled back into the restroom. Locking herself inside, she slid down against the wall, burying her face in her hands, feeling her heart shatter into a million pieces. She had fought so hard to believe in her own worth, to convince herself that she was lovable and that her affection wasn’t too much for him to bear. But he agreed. He agreed with them, with the strangers who hated her, who thought she was too loud, too affectionate, too clingy.

She had tried so hard to believe that Franco saw her the way she saw him—as irreplaceable, as the very air he breathed. But hearing his quiet agreement, the confirmation that the one person she thought she could trust didn’t love her as she was… it left her feeling hollow, like a fragile shell of herself.

---

When Franco found her, he looked at her with that familiar softness, his arms coming around her as he held her close. She clung to him, not because it made her feel better but because she didn’t know how else to act, didn’t know how to pretend it was all okay. He asked her why she was crying, and she forced herself to smile through the tears, saying it was because of his crash, that she’d been worried. He looked at her with relief, gently pulling her closer, and she let him, even though his touch felt like fire against her skin, burning with the memory of his words. For the first time in their relationship, being near him didn’t feel safe.

In the days that followed, she withdrew into herself, letting Franco slip away piece by piece. She stifled her laughter, kept her voice low, spoke only when necessary. She still brought him snacks, still sat beside him as he debriefed with his team, but now she was a shadow, a shell of the girl she once was. She didn’t touch him as freely, didn’t drape herself over his shoulders or pepper his face with kisses. She gave him what the world wanted, the perfect, silent partner, standing just behind him, looking at him only when he looked away.

Fans noticed the change, taking to social media to praise her for finally learning her place. They called her refined, mature, supportive. They praised her “new maturity,” applauded her for “knowing her place.” They liked her better this way, in the background, quiet, subdued. For the first time, she fit the image of the F1 girlfriend they wanted her to be. She was a supporting character, there for Franco when he needed her but silent, never in the spotlight, never drawing attention.

But Franco hated it. He missed her laugh, the way her hands would find his at every turn, the way she’d rest her head on his shoulder while he spoke. He missed the way she’d light up a room with her excitement, her laughter like music that chased away the shadows of his stress. He tried everything to bring her back, brushing his fingers along her cheek, whispering little jokes, pulling her close. But she stayed quiet, her smile polite but hollow, her laughter a pale echo of what it used to be.

She wasn’t his girl anymore. She was someone else, a stranger wearing her face.

---

One night, after a particularly grueling day, Franco found her alone in their hotel room. She was sitting by the window, staring into the dark night, her reflection in the glass a ghost of the girl he had fallen in love with. He crossed the room, kneeling beside her, his hand finding hers.

“Please,” he murmured, his voice breaking with the weight of his worry. “Tell me what’s wrong. Where did you go?”

She looked at him, her eyes full of a pain he couldn’t understand, couldn’t reach. “I’m here, Franco,” she whispered, her voice soft and fragile.

“No, you’re not,” he said, his voice thick. “You’re… you’re gone. The girl I love is gone.”

Her lips trembled, and she pulled her hand from his, wrapping her arms around herself as though trying to hold herself together. She was quiet for a long time before she spoke, her words barely audible. “I heard you… that day in Brazil. I heard you tell your engineer that I was too much. That I was a lot.”

Franco’s heart dropped, a cold shock of realization rushing through him. He remembered the conversation, the way he’d laughed along, never thinking his words would reach her. “I didn’t mean it,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I never meant it like that.”

“But you said it,” she replied, her voice breaking. “You agreed with them. You agreed with everyone. You were the only person who made me feel like I wasn’t too much, like I was enough. But if even you… if you think I’m too much…”

Her voice trailed off, her shoulders shaking as she hugged herself tighter. Franco reached for her, his heart shattering as he saw the pain he’d caused, the light he’d extinguished. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I love everything about you. You’re not too much. I need you, all of you.”

He reached for her, but she drew back, her body a closed door, her eyes filled with a sadness that cut deeper than anything. “I love you with everything I have,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I would have given anything to be enough for you.”

He could feel his own tears burning, the agony of realizing that his careless words had stripped away the light from the woman he adored. “You are enough,” he said desperately, his voice thick. “You’re everything to me. I love you just as you are.”

But she only shook her head, her hand lifting to his cheek, her fingers brushing his skin one last time. “I don’t believe that anymore.”

[1d1195]

Chances

~5k words

From Me: It's been about 2 minutes since my last love at first sight story so I figured that was long enough for another one. Just a silly little thing.

Warnings: A tiny bit of smut. Also she's shorter than Harry (only relevant for 20 seconds, max). Other than that, should be fluff fluff fluff.

Summary: Airports are gross, overpriced, and extremely anxiety-inducing. She hates being there.

But it's also where she sits with a really cute guy who makes her feel like she's flying from the moment she looks at him and before takeoff even begins.

What was it about airports that were so romantic? Everyone knew how gross they were. A petri dish of diseases on every surface. Overpriced food and drinks. Not to mention the exorbitant price of books and magazines. Almost everyone passing through was stressed with worry about missing their flight, losing their bag, losing their kid, or personal items. She was one of them. Even with an hour and half cushion she was worried it would take off or something while she was going to get a coffee.

Which was perhaps why she didn’t notice where she chose to sit at her gate. All that anxiety festering and building in her that only the relief of flopping into one of the seats near an outlet would release. She put her coffee in the little cup holder, tucked her bag beneath her feet and placed the overpriced book on her lap.

Someone called out for another person making her head tip up at the noise.

It was fate. Destiny. Whatever corny thing a romance writer would say it was. But there were only so many places her eyes could fall, and they happened to land on him.

What was it about making eye contact with a guy her age at the airport that made her feel like she was in a Hallmark movie? He gave her a polite smile. One that was downright pretty. Too pretty to be on a man's lips and one that made her heart skip a beat.

Hence why she was thinking about the romanticism of the airport in the first place.

She sincerely hoped she returned his kind smile because at the very least she didn’t want to be rude. But it was all a matter of seconds; this little romance novel scene she was playing out. Her cheeks felt warm with a rush of blood to her skin before she dropped her gaze back to her book. She had to. If she didn’t, she was going to do something crazy like profess how taken she was with him after meeting those stunning green eyes for half a second like the love at first sight she saw in movies.

But was that his gaze she felt heating up her skin? She refused to look up, but the words of her novel blurred together, and she could only think about how blue was one of her favorite colors growing up but green might have kicked that right out of the top spot in that moment.

*

Their flight was delayed which stressed her out beyond comprehension. It wasn’t even that long but if she didn’t have somewhere to be when she landed, she would have felt a lot better. She swore she was the last person to board the plane, and it only fueled her anxiety further.

But if it weren’t for the delay, her being last, or the fact that she was going to miss the rehearsal dinner for her friend’s wedding, the anxiety of seeing the hot guy from the gate was sitting next to her empty seat was surely going to give her a heart attack at the ripe age of her late twenties.

She felt her cheeks burning in recognition as he smiled again at her. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

That pretty face that was going to haunt her dreams for a lifetime. “Are you 12A?” He asked. The window seat, fortunately. His voice was warm and gentle.

“Yeah, sorry,” she bit her lip.

He chuckled standing in the aisle to get out of her way so she could get settled. “S’nothing t’apologize for.”

“I’m sure you thought you were going to have the row to yourself,” she sighed and placed her oversized purse on her seat so she could stow her carryon above her head.

“Allow me,” he offered and hoisted the bag to the storage space as if she hadn’t crammed a week’s worth of clothes and shoes inside it for only a long weekend. “S’okay. S’not a big plane. They said it was full.”

Stupid airports and their romantic goggles.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully and slipped into their row.

She noted all of his items were ready: a book tucked into the seat back compartment, a bottle of water stowed there as well, and his phone and headphones that he pulled from his pocket and placed on the tray once he was seated again. She fiddled with her bag, pulling out the items she wanted tucked into the spaces she had easy access to as well. Most importantly, she grabbed the travel package of disinfectant wipes to clean off her little home away from home for the next few hours.

“Oh, that’s a smart idea,” he smirked admiring her tidiness.

“I think Covid taught me that airplanes are one of the most disgusting places on the planet.”

He chuckled. “I suppose s’fair,” he nodded in agreement. “D’you have an extra one?” He asked. She nodded and held the little package out to her row-mate. He took two and repeated her routine to clean. The air vent, the tray table, the belt buckle and arm rest. He used the second to wipe down his headphones, phone, and book with a quick swipe. She held out a little sandwich bag she used for trash while on the plane. “Y’must fly a lot,” he smirked at her preparedness.

“Used to,” she took a deep breath. “I still get kind of nervous.”

“Honestly, would think y’were not human if y’didn’t get nervous.”

The announcements were being made and she focused on the flight attendants and their safety demonstration. Well, tried to. The man beside her was so handsome it was like he demanded to be stared at; it was hard not to comply to such a silent request. He looked effortlessly comfortable and so attractive it was unfair. But maybe it was those stupid airport goggles making her fall in love with someone relatively close to her age and perhaps he was only a little hot.

But as he reached for the air vent again, his sweatshirt sleeve slid down his wrist so that her eyes darted to his forearm and landed on the tattoo on the inside of his arm. It wasn’t even something she would qualify as a sexy tattoo, but it was there. As it appeared in her vision, all her dignity, self-respect, and thought of him being only a little hot, flew right out the window.

Stupid men.

The plane jolted a little as it started its take-off, making her gasp and she gripped the armrest tight. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as it settled into its rhythm. The final announcement that the ascent was going to begin came through the speaker and the plane got quiet as it always did at that time. “Hey, love?”

It was pathetic she recognized his voice already. Pathetic that she was going to respond to the little pet name. They had barely spoken. But the two little words were soft and sexy. In a gentle kind of way. She peeked out of one eye to glance at him. She swallowed thickly around the nerves. “Uh... yeah?”

“I can hold your hand, if y’want. S’just a tight grip y’got on m’arm,” it was so gentle. He didn’t even sound annoyed or pained. She gasped again, released his arm from her goddamn death grip, and covered her mouth. How fucking embarrassing. She didn’t even notice.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“No, s’fine,” he assured her, his smile was so kind. Like she was a wounded bird that he found after it flew into the window. “Here,” he offered pulling her hand from her mouth and laced their fingers together. “M’not a fan of takeoff either,” he explained giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Did he feel how perfectly their hands fit together? Or did she imagine it? These airplane goggles were thick as hell. She was fucked when she got off the plane and never saw him again. They were silent during the remainder of the ascent and once the bell signaled that they could unbuckle, the pilot announced they were at cruising altitude, Harry gave her hand a squeeze again before releasing it.

“Thank you,” the sincerity in his voice made her blush and she was glad it was dark on the plane and the flight would remain dark. Because if she had to see how pretty his face was for the whole flight, she wasn’t going to make it. It was unfair that someone so handsome was seated next to her and she would never see him again. Someone who was thanking her for holding her hand. After she tried to rip his arm hair out.

Did his hand feel cold? Her hand felt cold. It was so ridiculous she just wanted to scream.

She had the worst luck.

*

Harry had the best luck. The pretty girl from the gate was in the same row as him. He got to hold her hand. The flight was only five or so hours long and the thought of it being delayed was miserable. But there she was looking so unbelievably beautiful.

There’s a REALLY pretty girl at my gate. He texted Mitch the second he saw her.

You better not be creepy. Sarah says there’s NOTHING worse than a guy being creepy at the airport.

I’m not going to make my soulmate uncomfortable. I’m just going to ask her every question that pops into my head to get to know her, and then ask how many kids she wants to have with me.

...Best of luck to her.

I’m probably not even going to talk to her :( She looks busy and what are the chances she’ll be sitting next to me? There’s no way I have that kind of luck.

But Harry did have that luck it seemed. The pretty girl was tucked into their row against the window, her head resting against the side of the plane. She was clean, organized, and adorable. He liked how she spoke to the flight attendant. Like she was a hinderance by being a passenger. It was sweet and he admired her kindness and thoughtfulness. She was so grateful when Harry handed her the little bag of pretzels and the drink she got.

“Reading something good?” She asked quietly.

Harry smiled and held it out to her so she could read the back cover. “Something m’sister recommended.”

She intently read the words on the back and nodded. “I think I’m going to add it to my never-ending list.”

God, he wanted to say he could give it to her when he was finished. But he was never going to see her again. So maybe he didn’t have the luck he hoped he did. “How ‘bout you?”

“Um...” she smiled. “It’s nothing... intelligent. It’s a brain-rotting romance thing. I don’t know, I like to read trashy stuff on the plane. Take my mind off it and everything else.”

“I see,” he didn’t ask Gemma a lot of questions, but he knew that meant it was filled with spicy romantic scenes that he could only dream about with someone as pretty as her. But that would be what Sarah called creepy, so he pushed that thought away quickly. “M’not a huge e-book person.”

“They’re good for travel,” she smiled. “I love bookstores, and I think I could build a whole house out of the books I have or want to buy. But traveling... it’s nice to have something compact. But I bought a book at the convenience store before we left. Which is so dumb because the mark up is like an extra ten dollars and I could have gotten it for free on this thing but the Wi-Fi is a bit of a problem sometimes, like I can’t get my new book to—” She paused as Harry listened intently. It was so disarming listening to her talk about books and her e-reader. It was adorable. Her eyes, even in the faint glow from the emergency airplane lights, were lit with excitement. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”

“No!” He frowned, shaking his head hurriedly. He immediately missed the excitement in her eyes. “Y’weren’t. I never thought ‘bout how the traveling is easier with it. I had t’forgo a whole outfit t’get m’books in m’bag.”

She smiled and sipped her drink. “I always do that. Except I’m sure you felt how heavy my bag was, I didn’t do it this time. I told myself I wasn’t going to overpack and I just couldn’t do it.”

“M’sister has a hard time with it too.”

“It’s impossible, I think. Especially for an event, you know?”

Was Harry still smiling? He couldn’t stop smiling. She just had this air about her. The air between them was vibrating and it wasn’t because of turbulence. She had to feel it, right? Harry couldn’t be imagining this electric feeling that was pulsing between them. They were just sitting there, staring at each other.

“Can I say something crazy?” He asked.

“Crazy? Are you planning on murdering me?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I jus’...” he paused and scanned her face memorizing the moment wondering how on earth he could meet her again. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to have a plane ride back with her. But there couldn’t be that much good luck. “This is a bit...” he trailed off and he chuckled. His face was only inches from hers. She bit her lip.

“Yeah... it is.”

“S’crazy, right?”

She nodded. “It is,” she whispered back.

“Hi,” he said quietly, a smile growing on his face.

“Hi,” she giggled.

*

When the plane began its descent, he held her hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze. It made her stomach flutter. As they left their little row, her heart hammered in her chest. How unfair it was that she would never see him again. He grabbed her bag from the compartment above and he walked with her all the way to baggage claim. They chatted a little more. Smiling and giggling. She didn’t even realize he was still holding her hand.

At least the airport goggles were working both ways it seemed.

“You let me go on and on about overpacking and you checked a bag?” He smirked, grabbed her hand again and led her toward the rideshare pickup spot. “Can I say something crazy?”

“Are y’planning on murdering me?” He asked.

“You felt it right?”

“Felt what?” The smile melted off her face and she dropped his hand like it burned her. “Whoa, hey,” he laughed and snagged it quick into his again. “S’bad joke,” he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly. “Course I felt it.”

She looked at her feet. The seconds felt like hours as she looked for something to say. “I don’t know where to go from here,” she frowned looking back at him.

“Yeah...” He sighed. “It’s...” he sighed. There was so much he wanted to say. So much she wanted to tell him. They needed more time, more space.

She wanted to live on that plane.

Harry wanted to stay at that airport.

She pushed up onto her toes and kissed him. It was crazy. Outlandish. Ridiculous. She cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin. He smiled on her mouth making her want to melt. His hand found her lower back, pulled her closer because in just sneakers she couldn’t reach his lips completely. With her firmly in his embrace, he nipped at her lower lip. It was so sinful she shivered.

The honking interrupted their moment, pulling each other apart. “I have to go,” she whispered looking at the Uber that matched the license plate listed on her phone.

“I know.”

“Hi,” she whispered with a quiet laugh.

“Hi.”

“It was... really nice meeting you,” her smile was so goddamn pretty it was going to make Harry cry.

“It was nice meeting you, love,” he answered. Safely tucked her into the back of the cab. She unrolled the window.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Harry,” he said.

“Harry,” she repeated. “Nice meeting you, Harry.”

*

“You have outdone yourself,” she smiled as she turned. The woman before her had a stunning smile, her hair half pinned, her white silk pajamas shimmering in the light. “They’re stunning.”

“You’re one to talk, I’d give you a hug but I don’t want to mess anything up,” she wrinkled her nose. “You love them?” She asked.

“I love them. They might upstage me.”

“I sincerely doubt it. You look stunning already.”

“Do you hate me for not making you a bridesmaid?”

“God, no,” she shook her head. “I’m more of a behind the scenes kind of person anyway. If you need anything today, I’m your girl,” she promised. “I was too far away,” she shrugged.

“Don’t remind me,” she frowned. “These flowers are the things of dreams. You are the best,” she sighed dreamily. “Can I see my bouquet?” Her frown quickly turned into a smile again. “I’ve been dreaming about it.”

She went to the bucket that was at the edge of what would be the ceremony floor and pulled the bouquet from it. She felt so proud and happy with the arrangement she made for one of her long-time best friends. “Seph,” she smiled. “You look beautiful,” she reminded her.

Persephone grinned admiring the bouquet. “You’re incredible... How was your flight? Other than delayed?”

“It was...” she tried to think about anything but the color green. “Good.”

“Oh?” Seph’s perfectly plucked eyebrow arched suspiciously “How good? Did you join the mile high club?”

“Oh my God, Persephone, of course not.”

“Well, you don’t say good like that if he’s not cute.”

A slight pause as she looked at the ceiling and then back at her friend. “He was really cute.”

“You’re a walking Hallmark movie.”

“That’s literally how I felt.” They giggled then she sighed thinking about the kiss she shared with a stranger. It was so unlike her to get all in a twist about a guy she just met. This wasn’t normal. It was like she was still in the airport. There were so many things they didn’t talk about. So many things she didn’t know about him and never would. It was unfair and yet she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she was still flying. Shaking her head, she turned to her friend once more. “Alright, I have to finish these flower arrangements. Not sure if you know this, but there’s a wedding happening here tonight.”

“Sorry about your airplane man, babe,” Seph squeezed her shoulder.

“Hey, no frowns. It’s your wedding day,” she turned back to the table she was working on before her friend’s interruption. “I think some moments are meant to just... exist in that moment.”

*

Harry had thought about only three things that day. Breathing, cake, and of course the beautiful girl he met on the plane.

You KISSED her?! Sarah asked.

I know... I’ve never met anyone like her.

That’s a real bummer, Harry, honestly. It was and Sarah was right. At first, he was joking, but now he was certain she was his soulmate, and he just let her go. But what choice did he have? Yes, there was the feeling of his heart beating faster. The excitement of making her laugh. But there was the calmness, the tranquility of being beside her. Holding her hand.

Maybe it was morbid, but Harry was certain he was looking for someone to hold his hand if the plane were to go down and maybe that’s what a soulmate really was.

It was easy. Easy to talk to her, make her laugh. It was easy to get to know her and he didn’t even know anything about her. He didn’t know where she was from, what she did, where she was going, but he just knew that she was his and he let her go. There were too many variables. Too many things he couldn’t control.

“Harry, you almost done?”

“Jus’ putting the finishing touches,” he mumbled.

“We’re going to be late!”

“They won’t start without us,” he rolled his eyes.

“If there is a speck of—”

“I’m clean, I’m clean,” he shook his head, coming to the other room and brushing his hands along his coat. “Let’s get married, yeah?”

*

The maid of honor talked about how lucky the pair of them were to find one another. How there were an infinite number of opportunities for them to not have met but there was this special moment destined for each other. Where Persephone would walk into the library to sit in her favorite study spot and if she wasn’t so superstitious she would have just found another table.

But instead, she walked right up to the table, told her future husband he was in her spot, and she was preparing for an exam, and she wouldn’t let him use her favorite seat.

The best man spoke about how he was actually destined to be with the groom for forever and ever which made the entire place laugh.

But talk of luck and destiny just made her feel miserable on the inside. If she asked for his number or where he lived, it would be hours from where she lived. She would be devastated. A kiss was a good ending to her little story. That would suffice.

Maybe he already had a girlfriend. That would work too. Something to make her feel like a horrible person and lessen the blow that her soulmate was somewhere out there never to be seen again. Harry was just a guy that held her hand on a plane and talked about books with her for hours so she wouldn’t be scared. Someone that split his snacks with her even though she didn’t know him.

No. She couldn’t think about him. She had to stop thinking about him. It wasn’t good for her brain or her heart.

It was a beautiful ceremony. That’s what she needed to focus on. Persephone was a gorgeous bride and the event was just... perfect. “I think I’ve given your name and number to just about every single woman here,” Seph said sliding into a seat beside her and kissed her cheek.

She laughed. “Well thank you,” she smiled. “Let me see,” she held her hand out for the one with her new jewelry and she admired the pretty diamond that glimmered alongside the new band of diamonds below it. “Everything is beautiful.”

“This place is beautiful because of you. Just like you said.”

“Oh... it was beautiful before. I just added to it.”

“I didn’t see it though. It’s a bargain if you can envision it like this. I seriously wouldn’t have picked it without you saying you’d do the flowers,” Seph explained. “You saw so much more than I did.”

She shrugged. “I don’t think there’s a place on earth that doesn’t benefit from flowers.”

“Well, thank you,” she squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t be having a wonderful day without you. I know it was a lot to travel out here and—”

“No, no. Don’t even. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Flowers or no flowers.”

Persephone grinned. “Well... in other news... do you see anyone as cute as your airplane man? Lerone has a lot of single friends.”

She smirked and shook her head. “No offense, Seph, but there is no one that’s going to be as cute as my airplane guy.”

“No one?”

Her head snapped up to the voice that she had already planned on dreaming about for the rest of her life. Her eyes met the same green gaze she had the pleasure of looking at for five hours while chatting about books and whispering about nothing of importance (but it all seemed important at the time). There was no way. She didn’t have this kind of luck. If there was a squeaky carriage at the grocery store she was sure to pick it. There was no way that—

“Hi Harry!” Persephone smiled. “Do you two know each other?”

“Something like that,” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Hi,” Harry grinned at her.

She cleared her throat, adrenaline flowing through her body. “Hi,” she whispered breathlessly.

“Harry baked our cake. He went to school with Lerone.”

“Oh,” she swallowed.

“And I heard y’did all the work with these pretty flowers,” Harry smiled.

“She’s like the flower queen,” Persephone giggled.

“I see.”

There was a pause while they stared at each other. Harry grinning like a madman, he was sure. But she was stunning. A floral dress draped her body, her hair half pinned up. She was so pretty. Somehow even prettier than the way she looked on the airplane and Harry was certain she could never be prettier than the moment she sat next to him.

“Hi,” she laughed.

“Hi,” he chuckled.

“Of all the gin joints.”

Harry took a seat beside her. Persephone had moved onto the next table and yet, she hadn’t even noticed. “I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you, love,” he grabbed her hand. “Been thinking ‘bout the plane, y’e-reader, and that earth-shattering kiss.”

Her cheeks heated up and Harry reached out to brush his thumb on her cheek. “This is insane,” she whispered.

“I know,” he agreed.

“I don’t have luck like this,” she explained. “I’m the kind of person that has their luggage get lost. Or my coat will snag on the doorknob. If I didn’t want to be paired with someone in a group project in high school, I could guarantee I was going to be in their group.”

“Y’think it’s lucky you’re meeting me?” He practically wiggled his eyebrows. Trying to sound egotistical but all it did was make her fall harder for him.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Well...yeah,” she swallowed. “I mean... what else am I supposed to call it?”

“It doesn’t have t’be luck. Can jus’ be meeting you.”

“I don’t think it works that way for me.”

“Can I dance with you?” He asked.

“I’m not very good and I think there’s a good chance I’ll step on your toes and—”

Harry was already helping her stand and tugging her to the dance floor. She did step on his toes, not hard, but her quiet “sorry” was lost on Harry. It felt perfect to hold her in his arms. One hand in his, her other at the back of his neck, his free hand on the small of her back. They fit like puzzle pieces. “A florist, hmm?” He hummed right by her ear.

“A baker?” She replied.

He chuckled. “What are the chances?”

*

“D’you have any idea how good y’look?” He groaned. She was in just a T-shirt. Harry’s T-shirt. He propped his head in his hand as he looked at her laying in his bed. His finger skimming just below the hem of the shirt. It barely touched her thighs and the only thing that stood in his way was a scrap of fabric she called underwear.

She giggled. “Back at you.”

“This is insane,” he smiled and pressed his lips to hers.

“It is,” she whispered.

If all her bad luck had been to make this weekend happen, she was forever grateful. This was worth it. Harry was worth it. “When’s your flight?”

“Quarter of five. When’s yours?”

“The same, of course.”

She smiled and tucked her face into his chest. “How far away are you from my shop?”

“Only ‘bout a half hour drive,” he told her. “Why?”

“Just... wondering.”

“Jus’ want t’know how much time and distance is between you and a toe-curling orgasm?”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I wasn’t talking ‘bout you,” he peppered a line of kisses down the side of her face and along her neck, down the curve of her shoulder, even when the T-shirt got in the way. “You are so pretty,” he mumbled pulling at his shirt to touch her soft skin and curves. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so pretty.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“No, I’d remember you,” he smiled pressing his lips to her collarbone. He pulled the shirt off her and he brushed his thumbs across her nipples softly. Making them perk up more than they already were with the cold air from the room and no barrier between her. “Definitely remember this,” he mumbled into her skin.

“I have to pack,” she whispered but her voice was air and her resolve wasn’t there.

“Put it in m’checked bag,” his lips were occupied by one of her nipples making it extremely difficult for her to concentrate. “Jus’ shove everything in there. Then s’a promise I’ll see y’after we land.”

Her heart fluttered. “You want to see me again?”

He popped his head up from licking at her like she was candy. The air was even chillier against the sensitive skin without Harry’s warm mouth wrapped around her. “M’sorry, was I not clear?”

She smirked. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about airport goggles.”

“Airport goggles?” He repeated.

“I have really bad luck, Harry. I just worry that the idea of me in an airport because I’m roughly your age... or like, you know airplane food is a real thing? Not just a joke? Something about the altitude messing with your tastebuds or something. So maybe this is all an illusion, is what I’m saying. Maybe I am really unlucky because when we get back to our real life we won’t have airport goggles and—”

“Kitten,” he chuckled and rubbed his thumb across her lip. “Shh,” he whispered and pressed a soft kiss on her mouth.

“I’m just saying—”

“I know,” he rolled his eyes. “I hear you. But m’telling you, there’s no such thing as airport goggles. Even if there are, m’never taking them off.”

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @boopookie @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777 @tchlamqtsgf @lizsogolden @me-undiscovered @you-sunshine

@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[thatonegirlondiscord]

somewhat relavent so I justed wanted to add on a personal experience.

I was born and raised in a mid sized city in Southern China but moved to America at the end of 4th grade when I was about 9. My elementary school was decently sized. Three buildings, a large courtyard for morning assembly, gym, and sporting events, and a small small playground located at the one of the corners of the courtyard. In other words, it was average.

I remember that one day in third or perhaps second grade my homeroom teacher announced that our school finally got a library, and it was such exciting news. Up till that point in my life I've knew libraries as the shiny building downtown where it was white and clean and nice and you can go there to buy study books for exams. It was a shameful thing if you read books that you have not bought or owned in some way so when my teacher said that you can go and borrow and read books from the library everyone got excited, even those who are disciplined on the daily for bad grades.

The catch however was that you can only do so if you are a good student or had "merit." And hearing it my heart sunk. I don't exactly remember what I did but I knew I caused trouble either earlier that week or earlier that day, and it almost definitely meant that I was not going to be given the elusive library card. She told us to put our heads down and rest our eyes as we had just finished the school-wide mandatory eye relaxation routine, and she will be walking around the classroom and putting the cards down on the desk of students who "deserved" the opportunity.

She then proceeded to place the cards on the desks of top students, the arts representative, the class representative, and those who generally did not cause trouble in class. I was dejected but there is nothing I could do. It made sense afterall, that the spot which could've been mine are to be given to someone else simply because they are better. I was bitter but there was nothing to be done. To my surprise however, my mishap earlier was somehow canceled out by my diligent sweeping of the floor (assigned chore) and I received a card in the end. All I could remember was that it's such an honor, almost comparable to a teacher praising you to your parents, and I proudly showed it off to my dad the second I got home.

It didn't occur to me until just this post that my earliest impression of a library didn't match with my experience at all. I loved to read and have been reading as a child, asking my dad to read the newspaper stories to me was our bonding time so perhaps I just took the fact that books are now free for me to borrow and read in stride. It didn't occur to me at all that children such as I who hasn't proved themselves yet were given free reign to use the school library as they pleased, and what a strange notion it is to realize it now.

I know my experience may not be uniform across China but I just thought I'd share it to give a more comprehensive perspective to op's experience.

...I had a guy come in today asking about how to get his kids library cards. I told him. He asked me how hard it would be for them to get them, and I said that all it took was their presence and his government ID.

He told me about how nice the system was here, where it was so easy to get a card; he said that there was a beautiful public library in Beijing that was top of the line and everything, but that the only way to access it was if you were a high ranking government official or a top professor or something. Instead, our library "serves the reader." His kids will be able to take chapter books home at no cost. He'll even be able to get books in Chinese here so that his native language skills don't atrophy.

I didn't even really know what to say, so I told him how to ask us to buy books for him that we don't already have so that he can still read them at no extra cost. I don't know how to shore up what it must feel like to know that there are books out there you can't read; I've always grown up with a good library nearby. It reminded me of working in my old library, though, where families who spoke Spanish were startled to find out we took any government ID with a formal address in town— even foreign IDs— so that their kids could get access to all of our titles in all the languages we offered.

Ah. Anyway, I hope you check out a library book with this thought in mind. I checked out the first volume of YJ98 today with that thought in mind. I didn't have to pay anything. I put it on hold, and there it was.

Edit: for those who struggle with reading comprehension; no, this patron interaction is not meant to represent the status of the Chinese public library system at large nor the country of China itself; this was my response to a random Chinese immigrant dad's anecdotal concerns as he expressed them to me, because the whole breadth of concern I'm responsible for while on desk starts and ends at recommending which library services would fulfill his needs. If you think he misunderstood or was lying about the status of public libraries in China, that isn't something I'm charged to verify before writing my thoughts and feelings about the patron interactions I was exposed through throughout my day. Expecting anything else is absurd.

Edit edit: Also, your library may not actually use Libby as the distribution method for their ebook collection. The best way to find out about how to access your library's ebook collection is to call them directly.

[holylulusworld]

Bucky & Ducky (2) - Warming up

Summary: Bucky Barnes. Ruthless mafia boss. Soft only for his wife and…well, Ducky.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Side pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Ducky the duck

Warnings: mafia business, fluff, unusual friendship

A/N: Thanks to @buck-star for the idea and brainstorming with me. I did it…😅

Bucky & Ducky Masterlist

Catch up here: Part 1

“Can you believe that punk dared to threaten my business, Ducky?” Bucky walked out of the bathroom to get ready to join you for dinner. After taking a relaxed bath, he hastily got out of the tub. He considered leaving Ducky alone in the tub but decided against it.

Only to make sure the duckling won’t poop into the tub or drown, he told himself.

He put the duckling on a fluffy towel and watched it clumsily wiggle on top of the towel, trying to escape while he got dressed. Bucky chuckled when the duckling started to tug at the towel angrily.

“No escaping, punk,” he said, and stepped toward the bed to look down at the tiny and vulnerable duckling. “You didn’t have an easy life, huh? They wanted to get rid of you because you were the weakest.”

Somehow, Bucky felt sorry for the duckling. No one gave Ducky a chance until now.

“You got lucky, punk. Y/N loves to save hopeless cases. She took me home too, one night, after someone stabbed me behind her bakery.”

Ducky lifted its head to look up at the tall mobster. It seems as if the little creature was listening to Bucky’s story. “It was only a scratch, but she turned full nurse, and that was when I fell in love with her. Y/N is too good for me and so sweet. So, if you want to stay here, you better not break her heart.”

“Buck? Baby?” You called from downstairs. “Baby, did you fall asleep in the bathtub? Do you want to eat in bed?”

“We are coming, doll,” Bucky immediately answered. You heard his footsteps get closer and hurriedly walked inside the dining room to check on the food.

“In here,” you called for your husband. He allowed you to keep the duckling so you would pay him back with a romantic candlelight dinner. “I got a surprise for you.”

“Uh—me too,” Bucky walked inside the dining room, Ducky in his arms. He put one of the fuzzy socks you bought for him around the duckling’s small body to keep Ducky warm. “I think he doesn’t want to be alone.”

“He?” You pressed one hand to your mouth to stop yourself from giggling. “Oh, the duckling.” Nodding, you pointed at the food. “Maybe we should find a box for him or…”

“No, no. I think he should sit with me. We don’t want him to believe we will abandon him too,” Bucky hastily said. He stepped closer to softly kiss your cheek. “The food looks good, baby doll. Thank you.”

You were stunned by his words. Bucky Barnes wanted to have dinner with a duckling by his side. “No, thank you, Bucky.” You return the kiss, giggling as he purrs your name. “You’re the best.”

Bucky smiled. He loves hearing you think highly of him. Not because it strokes his ego. No. It simply tells him that he’s not the bad guy he believes he is.

“Let’s eat,” you pointed at the food. “We don’t want the food to get cold.”

As you sat down, you watched Bucky claim his favorite seat. The one right next to yours. He carefully placed Ducky on the table. Bucky wrinkled his forehead as the duckling threatened to tip sideways.

“Punk, be careful,” he shrugged his jacket off to make a bed for Ducky out of the expensive fabric. Bucky carefully put the duckling in the middle, humming as Ducky quacked loudly. “Did you drink shampoo or something?” Your husband grinned. “I bet you tried my whiskey.”

You giggled at their interaction. “It seems you already became friends.”

“He’s cool, for a helpless duckling,” Bucky said and dug his fork into the food. “I guess we can keep him. Just to make sure he doesn’t end in a pan.”

“Bucky!” You scolded your husband. “Don’t say things like that in front of him. He’s a baby!”

“Ducky is a ruthless mobster,” Bucky retorted. He glanced at the duckling while chewing on the first bite of the food. “He only needs a chance.”

You smiled softly as Bucky talked to the duckling. “Hmm…we should get you something warm to wear. Maybe shoes too. Your feet will hurt if you waddle around barefoot all day.”

“Ducky got feathers. I don’t think he needs more, Bucky.”

Bucky nodded but glanced at the duckling. “No, I think he needs clothes. We don’t want him to freeze, right?”

“Right,” you giggled as the duckling wiggled on top of Bucky’s jacket. It seemed like Ducky tried to get closer to your husband. It made a fuss, quaking loudly, until Bucky carefully grabbed him and placed him on his lap.

“There you go, Ducky,” Bucky softly cooed to make sure to not scare the tiny duckling. “I’m going to take good care of you.”

Tags in reblog.

[always-just-red]

@lunariadew asked: 'Can you write a poly fic maby like a feel good fic or date night or something with all the boys! I’m greedy and I think there’s not enough poly fics as there should be'

Nothing profound this time around! Just some good old-fashioned shenanigans. I've wanted to do a fic with all the boys for SO long (Infold, hire me to write a sitcom-style show for the guys, PLEASE) I've kept it platonic since it's early stages; it's open to interpretation about how many sparks are flying and between whom exactly..... 👀 But if ppl want more of this, I'm all over it. Platonic or romantic? I'll play it by ear!

Game Night

L&DS Boys X Reader

Summary: The most important men in your life can manage one evening together, right? For you? Please? Pretty please?

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader, some swearing, a lil conflict, non-canon (I know some of the guys probably know each-other but we're pretending they don't 😇)

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Rafayel… what do you think this is?”

The artist stands at your open door, wearing a self-assured smile and one of the flashier outfits you’ve seen him in, and that’s really saying something. Between you is a bouquet of lilies, petals curled like frozen licks of fire that compliment— deliberately, if you had to guess— the warmer fires within his eyes. Those eyes narrow at your question.

“What do you think it is?” he says suspiciously, lowering the flowers.

“…Game night?”

You’re not sure why you phrase it so tentatively. You know what it is; you’re the host. You open your door wider, stepping aside to give Rafayel a better view of the apartment behind you, and the remainder of his smile sinks.

“Hi,” Xavier calls out, and you don’t have to see him to know he’s giving a wholesome sort of wave.

“Hi…” Rafayel answers, barely more than a whisper as his eyes flit between everyone else in the room, because he’s the last to arrive. “Game night, yeah,” he nods assertively, “I knew that.” Then a deep breath: “Can I, like, put these somewhere—”

“Kitchen counter,” you gesture.

“Got it.” He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he skirts past the lounge and makes for your kitchen, where another bouquet already lies waiting. He zeroes in on it. “Looks like mine’s not the only heart you’re breaking tonight, huh, cutie? What are these—” he pokes at a petal— “daturas?”

“They’re her favourite,” speaks a distinctly low voice.

Rafayel doesn’t look up. He plonks his bouquet on top of the other and winces: “They’re really not, though.”

“He’s right,” you chip in, giving Sylus a sheepish smile, and now Rafayel looks up, beaming.

“She likes roses,” Zayne says, with the calm confidence he’d quote a medical journal. On the sofa beside him, Xavier nods, and you grin at them both.

“Noted,” Sylus chuckles.

Rafayel’s less convinced. “Since when?!”

“Since forever, Raf. I like lilies too, so I didn’t say anything, ‘kay?” You beckon him back to the lounge, ignoring his splutters of disbelief. “C’mere, let me introduce you to everyone.”

The man slinks to your side like a reluctant shadow, and your hands find your hips. “This is Zayne. Xavier,” you point out, putting faces to names; Rafayel’s heard stories about each. Then you nod towards Sylus. “Over there’s Skye.”

From his place by the window, Sylus lifts a hand in greeting.

“So… yeah,” you finish. Oh, wait! “Guys, this is—”

“They know who I am,” Rafayel shrugs, his fame apparently heavy on his shoulders. He glances around the room for validation, but he gets none, so he tries again. “You do know who I am, right?”

“Sorry,” Xavier admits with an awkward smile, glancing back at Sylus: you?

The man has to think about it. You know for a fact he’s traded more than one of Rafayel’s paintings for a profit, but he smirks and gives an even more exaggerated shrug than the artist himself.

Really?

“You’re Rafayel,” Zayne states plainly.

“Yeah! See, I told you, cutie—”

“You slipped on a paintbrush and checked yourself into Akso, right? The nurses still talk about it.”

Rafayel’s enthusiasm drains. He looks conflicted as he mulls over the additional information. “In, like, a good way?” he hazards.

Zayne stares back at him, wielding silence like a scalpel before cutting deeper with a: “…sure.”

You bite back a smile. Leaving the two to discuss the finer details of Rafayel’s notoriety at the hospital, you wander over to the kitchen, where you fish out a vase from the back of a cupboard. You fill it, set it down on the counter, then reach for Sylus’s bouquet. There’s a black satin ribbon; you untie it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, sweetie?” asks the man himself, joining you discreetly.

The others can’t really hear you— they’re still talking. “What,” you smirk, retrieving your scissors from a drawer, “you worried Xavier’s gonna arrest you?”

Sylus laughs lowly, quietly. “That’s adorable.”

“Good.” You pick up a flower and trim a leaf from the stem. “Because even if he wanted to—” you wave it, just short of his face— “I’d protect you, ok?”

He regards the flower beneath his nose. Smiles smugly. “These can be toxic, sweetie.”

“Really? Whoops.” You put it down, then snatch up a lily from Rafayel’s bouquet. “En Garde!”

“These too.”

“What the hell?”

The flame-red flower drops from your fingers, and Sylus laughs more sincerely. “Stick to roses, kitten. Or…” He moves his hand over his deconstructed bouquet, his Evol pruning the rest of the leaves from the stems. A tendril of it gathers the flowers, delivering them to him so he can hold them out to you with a flourish. “Live dangerously. Who am I to judge?”

You take them, then plop them into the vase. “Cute.”

“I’m here all week,” he grins. “You’d better wash your hands, hmm?”

With a hmph of agreement, you turn to the sink. You spend half a minute, rubbing soap and warm water over your hands, and when you turn back around— still drying them— something is different. The lilies are gone. Sylus is looking at you, innocuous.

“Real mature, Skye.”

He makes no effort to defend himself. You’re about to tell him that his magic better extend to making flowers reappear when your attention is whipped back to the lounge. The voices from that side have raised, so you lean forward on your kitchen island, watching their owners in a sort of stakeout.

“I take it you have a plan,” Sylus whispers, leaning with you.        

You look at him. He looks back. “The plan is for hosts,” you scold, “not guests.” He’s much too close so you step away, reaching for the vase of daturas and holding them threateningly out, like you’re not afraid to use them. “Go back to the guests, deserter.”

Sylus lifts his hands in surrender, smirking in a way that says he knows he’s met his match. You shoo him further, back into enemy lines, then resume your stakeout. Xavier is sharing his own “embarrassing” medical story— talking about a time where he once passed out from exhaustion while fighting at your side, and you think it’s supposed to make Rafayel feel better.

It doesn’t, of course, and even Zayne is gazing down at the floor, self-conscious.

Sylus meets your eyes across the room, signals with a tip of his head: now's a good time for that master plan, sweetie.

Right. Your plan. Your master plan, yeah.

…

“You should have picked the doctor.”

Sylus’s words are near-silent: for you, not anyone else, and you pretend you don’t hear them. “But no,” he carries on, because he knows you can, “you just had to have the artist.”

“It’s Pictionary!” you snap, drawing all eyes in the room.

Lounging beside you, Sylus feigns an amused surprise, as though he hasn’t just been trying to illicit that exact reaction. On the other sofa, Zayne and Xavier stare, taken more genuinely aback. You give a smile of apology.

“Guys, concentrate!” Rafayel clicks his fingers at you. He’s stood in the centre of the space by a large drawing pad, and he goes back to frantically sketching on it. The drawing is… interesting. Abstract. Maybe even beautiful? But you don’t have a clue what it is.

“Thirty seconds,” warns Zayne, studying the little egg-timer he’s guarding.

You tilt your head at the drawing. There’s maybe a— wait, where did those extra colours come from? Where did he even get those pens? Anyway… there’s a circle. “A globe?” you guess. “Earth! No? Umm… oh! The sun! The moon!”

Rafayel shakes his head with every suggestion, adding even more intricate, unhelpful scribbles. Is that a fifth pen?! You nudge your other teammate, calling for back-up.

Sylus regards the drawing listlessly. “A unicorn.”

“What?!” Rafayel’s tone has reached a pitch that almost makes you wince. “No! C’mon, are you even trying?”

“No,” Sylus lilts with a pleasant smile, lifting the drink he’s been nursing to his lips.

You kick his foot. “A bowl of fruit!” you exclaim, determined to make up for the lack of enthusiasm. “A plate? A plate with food? Breakfast! Lunch! Dinner!”

“Time’s up,” Zayne interrupts, and it’s a mercy, really; you deflate with a sigh.

Rafayel puts his hands on his hips as he takes a step back to observe his work. He tucks four fine-liners back into his pocket— purses his lips as though he really can’t see a problem— and he’s keeping you all in suspense.

Sylus is up in an instant, stealing a card from where it’s been discarded on the coffee table. He reads the answer, then rolls his eyes. The original pen was also abandoned, so he plucks it up, then strides to the drawing pad.

He draws an oval. Then a triangle.

“A fish! A fish!” you cry out.

“You’re good at this, sweetie,” Sylus grins. He puts the lid on the pen with a click before dropping it into Rafayel’s hand.

“Is it my turn?” Xavier asks, trying to relieve the tension of the room. He gets up and smiles as Rafayel passes him the pen. “Your drawing is pretty. The composition is really—”

“Don’t,” Rafayel says. “Like, thanks? But don’t.”

“Fair enough,” Xavier chuckles.

You all prepare for the next round: Zayne handing you the egg-timer, Xavier re-organising the stack of prompt cards. Sylus takes a photo of the drawing pad before ambling back over— a moping Rafayel in tow— and they both sink down either side of you. You glance at the latter, giggling. “A fish, Raf? Really?”

“So I didn’t just wanna draw you some basic fish, ok?” The artist crosses his arms with a pout. “But fine, enjoy mediocrity, I guess.”

To your left, Sylus raises his glass in toast to the notion. There’s a noise: Xavier tearing the used page from the pad. You look up. “Xavier, can I have that?”

“Sure.” He brings it over to you.

You look at the drawing again, holding it at arm’s length and rotating it experimentally. You’re seeing a lot, but nothing that screams ‘fish’. There’s a circle, still. Oh! “It’s a fish bowl! Wait, wait, wait— is that Reddie?”

“Yeah!” Rafayel beams.

“Aww!”

The renewed team spirit drops off with Sylus; he’s on his phone, not paying attention. He seems to sense your scrutiny because he peers up, gives a ghost of a smile, then returns to whatever he’s doing. Meanwhile, Xavier is ready for his turn, so he signals for you to start the timer. You give him a thumbs up as you turn it over. “Go!”

He starts drawing.

“A car,” Zayne guesses after all of five seconds. Correct. Next. “A river? No. Oh. A snake.” Yes. “A cupcake?” Also yes. (In fairness, he was never going to struggle with that one.) “A person? Ok. Oh, a scientist, no? Ah, a doctor.” Yes again, and really— what?

Zayne continues to list correct answers, though thankfully, that’s the last of the coincidences. You watch on, vaguely in awe, until you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You check it casually, aware that Sylus is next to you, looking down at it too.

It’s a text from him: The drawing… Can I have it?

You glance up at him subtly, meeting his eyes and giving a discreet yet firm shake of your head. He frowns. You’re not having this debate here, now, so you let your gaze return to the drawing pad while idly retrieving your drink.

A few seconds later, there’s another text: Found buyer

Then another: Quarter of a mil

You almost choke on that drink.

“Umm… cutie?” Rafayel asks, poking you. He points at the timer you’ve left on the coffee table, and the top half is empty.

“Shit, yeah. That’s time!” you call.

Xavier stops drawing. The small, crude sketches behind him have reached double digits. He looks really proud. “Great! How many was that?”

His eyes find you. Zayne and Rafayel’s, too. Were you supposed to be counting? Uh—

“Eleven,” says Sylus, and it’s way too smug to be a lie.

“Awesome!” Xavier flips the drawing pad over to where you’ve been tallying point totals. He adds eleven marks to one side. “That’s—” he counts both— “ah, thirty-three to nine.”

A silence falls over the room. Unsure of what else to do, you give a half-hearted round of applause and Xavier laughs awkwardly, still humble, despite it all. “I think we’re kinda done with Pictionary, yeah?” you suggest, rising from your seat. “I should probably get started on food, anyway.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”

The insistence came from Xavier, and you freeze suspiciously; he’s never turned down free food.

“You’ve already done so much,” he explains, “setting this all up for us. You should relax, really! Leave it to me.”

The word ‘relax’ is not synonymous with the image of Xavier anywhere near your kitchen, but he’s looking at you so earnestly, blue eyes brimming with warmth, and what are you supposed to say? No thanks, Xavier— I value my life? Everyone’s watching you. Gods help you. “That’s really sweet, Xavier. Thanks.”

Your fellow Hunter’s smile widens even more. He heads off to the kitchen, a spring to his step that makes your heart sink with dread. “Actually—” you glance at your ex-teammates— “could you two go help him? Zayne and I’ll tidy up over here.”

Rafayel and Sylus do as they’re asked, even though their expressions remind you that cooking is not, typically, a three-man job. It’s tactical, though. You wanted a moment alone with Zayne. “Are you ok?” you ask, once the others are out of earshot. “I know this must all be a lot. The guys can be, well… yeah.”

He knows what you mean, right?

Zayne has slipped away from the couch; he’s crouched on the floor, collecting a few prompt cards that have wandered astray. He glances up at you, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “I’m ok,” he assures with a fond smile. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome.” He hands you the cards and you slot them back into their deck. Then you turn to the drawing pad. “You and Xavier make a good team, huh?”

The doctor straightens to his full height. “Mmm. It helped that we didn’t spend the entire game comparing the size of our… drawing abilities.” 

You laugh unashamedly. The pen’s still at-hand, so you pick it up— reward another point.

Zayne chuckles.

“Food’s gonna be a while.”

You both turn, following the voice back to Sylus, who has apparently decided he’s had his fill of kitchen duty. What was that— a minute? He seems to have anticipated your dissatisfaction, because he’s brought a bribe with him: the box of chocolates that had come with his bouquet. It’s already open and he holds it out, tempting you.

He’s right— you don’t know when you’ll next be eating— so you select a heart-shaped chocolate, popping it into your mouth with a smile and a muffled: “thanks.”

Sylus smiles back. Then he holds the box out to Zayne. “Doctor?”

It takes a nod of encouragement from you to prompt Zayne into taking something. He chooses a white chocolate truffle, mumbles his own thanks, but Sylus doesn’t relent— not yet. He shakes the box slightly, incitingly, and he doesn’t move it away until Zayne takes two more.

Your physician shoots you a surreptitious smile as Sylus falls back onto the couch, content he’s won your hearts, and that he won’t be sent back to the kitchen anytime soon. His long fingers lift another chocolate from the box, and he meets your eyes as he slips it slowly past his lips, humming likes he’s enjoying himself.

You cross your arms, unimpressed. He gives you the least convincing look of innocence you’ve ever seen.

There’s an exclamation from the kitchen: “Hey, where did my flowers go!?” 

Shit. You hastily push the drawing pad aside then scurry over to assist Rafayel. You don’t have a plan, exactly; it’s not like you can help him look for them. “Umm… they’re around, Raf. I moved them somewhere safer, that’s all.”

“Where?”

“Uh—”

“Does it matter?” Sylus speaks from behind you, because he and Zayne are close at your heels. “She said they’re somewhere safe.” He leans on the kitchen island. “Don’t you trust her?”

Rafayel scoffs. “I trust her plenty.”

“So prove it. Drop it.”

“Skye,” you caution, “stop.”

Sylus does stop, but not because you asked. He’s done enough already, hasn’t he? Rafayel is bristling with indignance— a lit fuse— and behind him, Xavier sneakily checks the trash can, looking relieved at what he doesn’t find. He gives you a subtle glance: Where actually are the flowers?

You lift a shoulder an inch: Beats me!

There’s a soft, almost imperceptible crackle, and it draws your eyes to the vase of daturas between you all. They’ve caught light— their petals twisting, darkening, within larger flowers of fire.

“Rafayel!” you gasp. “No, no, no, the fire alarm!”

The torched flowers are encased, all of a sudden, in a fine layer of shimmering frost. Sylus blinks down at them, unmoved by their destruction. Zayne’s hand is still outstretched, snowflakes etched over his palm. Then something… odd happens. The ice doesn’t stop. It spreads over the rest of the kitchen island, to all of your bewilderment.

“Zayne?” Your voice is fraught with worry, but you don’t give a damn about your kitchen.

The man winces, and you so rarely see him out of control. The silver-white patterns have crawled up his wrist, and the ice continues to spread; even Sylus steps back. Sharp, jagged crystals start to form— inching out towards everyone.

“Zayne!” you try again.

His chest rises as he drags air through his teeth; it looks like it hurts, but the ice does stop. The others are still, suspended by momentary uncertainty, and you rush to Zayne’s side, taking his hand.

“What the hell was that?” Rafayel remarks, shaking away his surprise and thawing an icicle that’s way too close for comfort.

“He wouldn’t have needed to use his Evol if you hadn’t used yours.”

It’s Xavier, strangely— you would have expected Sylus. The Hunter’s tone is gentle as always, but there’s something behind it, this time: a frustration that lends an edge.

Rafayel hears it too. “Hey, I’m not the one who started this!” He points to Sylus. “He—”

“Has been lighting fires all evening,” Xavier finishes. “But at least his were only figurative.”

Sylus laughs, and it’s the kind of laugh where you just know he’s vying to make things worse. “Look at that,” he says, “the boy next door can bite.”

Xavier’s eyes sharpen. Beside you, Zayne slips his hand from yours. It’s an instinct you know well. This moment is volatile, and you have to be ready. It could go a dozen different ways; it’s just waiting for a spark.

“Guys,” you manage to get out, “please, just… everyone, take a breath, ok? Everything’s fine, we just have to—”

A spark.

There’s smoke. Actual smoke. “Xavier, behind you!” Zayne alerts.

It’s creeping out of the oven and Xavier turns— eyes wide— to open its door before any of you can stop him. Thicker smoke billows out, filling the air, and you all scramble away from it. The fire alarm triggers. You think Rafayel’s shouting something, but you can’t really hear him. Then Sylus is shouting. Maybe even Zayne. The alarm is piercing your ears and making you dizzy— or is it the smoke?

You feel a hand on your shoulder and suddenly everything changes.

There’s cool air, brushing over your skin, and it’s dark; you’re outside the building. You can still hear the alarm, shrill but further away, and your window is easy to spot: there’s a red light flashing behind it. Sylus leans into your vision, saying your name.

“Stay here,” he tells you, “alright?”

He’s gone in another moment, lost to a flicker of crimson-black darkness.

Gods, you’re so stupid.

…

You sit on a short wall outside of your building, and the street is full of people. You recognise most of them: neighbours. Every single one is mad at you. You’re all waiting for the alarm to cut out— for the all-clear to be given. The fire wasn’t that serious in the end, but there’s still a procedure. You would know; this isn’t exactly your first evacuation.

The guys are safe, which is good, because it means you can kill them later. They’ve all gotten lost in the throng, and your neighbours can keep them. Maybe they’ll kill them for you.  

“Hey, cutie.”

You were staring down at your feet, but you look up at Rafayel’s voice. He’s coming towards you, evoking a sense of déjà vu, because he’s clutching a bouquet of flame lilies. That’s… the bouquet of flame lilies. How?

“Skye gave ‘em back to me,” he explains, chuckling at your expression, and he’s close enough now to hold the flowers out to you. “I don’t know where he was keeping them. His Evol’s weird, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say timidly, taking the bouquet and gazing down into the petals; they still smell sweet.

Rafayel sits next to you, shuffling close, and he leans his head on your shoulder with a tired sigh. You want to be mad at him. You really, really do— but you’re suddenly not.

“I’m sorry, Rafayel.” The admission barely makes it out of your throat.

You feel his head lift. “You’re sorry?”

“I know it was just a misunderstanding,” you speak into the flowers, “but tonight… wasn’t what you were expecting, I get it. I mean, I kinda threw you into the deep end with all this. You didn’t know you were gonna be around other people, and I—”

“Whoa— cut that out, yeah? You’re killing me, cutie. I spend the whole evening causing trouble, and you’re gonna take all the blame? Nope. Not happening. It was a collaborative effort at least, ok?”

You giggle. “Ok.”  

“Good.” His head slumps back down on your shoulder, and yours tilts to rest against it. “Thanks, though. Really,” he whispers, so quiet you almost don’t notice.

Footsteps and familiar voices draw you from the intimacy of the moment. The others are wandering back to you, having finally escaped the veritable mob of your neighbours. They all look tired.

Xavier settles down on the other side of you, and Zayne sits beside him. Sylus takes a seat next to Rafayel with a huff, but he’s not half as unhappy as he’s pretending to be.

All of you sit in silence, gazes flitting between your window— where there are still glimpses of moving figures— and everyone else who’s been evacuated. For the first time all evening, the quiet isn’t tense. It’s peaceful. Easy.

“We’ll do better next time,” Zayne speaks softly.

Next time? You scoff. “Do any of you actually want there to be a next time?”

“I had fun,” Sylus chuckles. He’s taken his coin from his pocket, and he flips it, amusing himself.

“I had fun too,” Xavier grins.

“Cooking again, Xavier?” quips one of your neighbours, as they happen to pass by.

The man beside you laughs, but you can tell it’s forced. Your hand finds his; you give it a little squeeze, letting him know that it wasn’t his fault. His heart was in the right place. It’s always in the right place.

You nudge Rafayel away from you so you can sit up straighter, your free hand rubbing your arm, caressing prickled skin. You’re about to ask for a jacket when something heavy drapes over your shoulders. It’s a coat— still warm— and its owner is stood behind you; you didn’t even notice him get up.

“Thanks, Sylus,” you smile.

All eyes turn to you. What are they—?

Oh.

[bonefall]

bones. bones they made moonpaw a schizophrenia and plurality stereotype. bones. bones help us

OH NO IS THAT WHY THERE'S 16 MESSAGES

I TURNED MY BACK FOR 5 MINUTES GREAT GOOGLY FUCKELING MOOGELY

I still have to finish reading Star (you have to forgive me for being a capital G Gamer who's been uber distracted) to gather together my final fair assessment, so I can start putting down the fragments for BB!ASC. But I WILL tell you this;

The whole Moonpaw Discourse from a couple of months ago really opened my eyes to just how pervasive intersexism and plurality stereotyping is, even in this space.

Not all of it is malice-- like many other cultural biases, people often just pick up negative stereotypes passively and don't realize they reflect poorly on real people. "Scary evil head voice" is one of them. Yes, intrusive thoughts exist (they are something I deal with), but it's about the snap, subconscious association between "voice in head" and "mental torment."

As the case and point; Look at how FAST the fandom conversation changed when the team first teased it. What was a fantastical, equal parts sincere love and horror exploration of shipping a cat with a magic pool morphed. Overnight, The Voice was an abusive thing, an expression of a dead baby who wanted to live, or a reincarnated monster, or another evil Ashfur-esque posession spirit.

Something bad, malicious, unwanted. By contrast, the voice of the moonpool was mostly portrayed as a supernatural yet good thing. Genuinely asking her for help.

(Part of me also ponders the religious angle of it. "Voices in my head" that come from God are generally much more socially acceptable than "Voices in my head" that come from the self. Regardless,)

So, as always, I Don't Rewrite Arcs Until They Are Done (I DRAU TAD, if you will), BUT... I know for certain that I will want to subvert this.

If Canon!Moonpaw must be a system, and we're all ready to buckle up and bunker down through how the Erins handle this one, then for BB!Moonpaw I'll try to do the same. But for my portrayal, I want to write her relationship with her headmate to be generally positive. Or at least more complicated and multifaceted.

One idea in particular I like is the thought that she absorbed a twin... but writing it as a chance the twin GETS to live, NOT a life denied. Death would have claimed them if they didn't become part of her. So, they love her-- of course they do. They're two souls with one heart.

The specifics will have to come with time. I need to see how her plurality impacts the plot, the overall story being told, plus wait to assess the criticisms that real systems and fusion chimeras in our fandom will have. But I can say with certainty that I would like to attempt my redux with the sad truth in mind that headmates in media are almost never approached as non-malicious. I'd like to do what I can to make a difference.

[leighlew3]

You don't even understand.

YOU DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND.

Gather 'round young wlw fans.

Lemme tell you the story of two actresses who didn't get along so well, through no fault of Ryan's really and later apologized for by Mulgrew as it all really just stemmed from misunderstandings and the misogyny they both faced all around them at the time. But whom had INCREDIBLE chemistry and portrayed these characters with such intense emotional connection, humor and heart -- an inexplicable belief in each other and devotion to each other. Two women from across the galaxy, brought together with their own form of quantum entanglement (ahem, Supercorp fans). They had a mentor/mentee dynamic that evolved into something so much deeper. Enemies to friends to -- what should and could have been lovers. But it was the 90s. So instead they had bland male love interests thrown at them of course, which never lasted of course, and sadly Janeway/Seven were never canon.

BUT THEN -- 25 YEARS LATER, one half of the ship -- one of the greatest, most well-written and well-acted Star Trek universe characters of all time, "Seven of Nine" (played by Jeri Ryan), was CONFIRMED as queer on Star Trek: Picard and shown to have more than one female love interest on screen: a past lover who betrayed her in early S1, and an active interracial ship called "Saffi" (Seven/Raffi) that they teased in the S1 finale, which developed into a full blown relationship in S2, but then for some reason the show tanked/pushed aside as having broken up off screen for S3 -- but a ship which both of the actresses supported very vocally and still hope to see reunited in a possible spin-off.

Seven of Nine is a character that means more to me than I could ever put into words due to her struggles and character arc (and she's whom I named my cat after). But it's also meaningful because those of us back then... we just KNEW. We just KNEW that this brilliant, complicated, frustratingly pragmatic yet deeply and surprisingly empathetic, beautiful ex-Borg was not straight. And that she did not belong only to the cishet men who liked her due primarily to her ridiculous and actress-torturing cat suit uniform. But to us.

And it took A QUARTER OF A CENTURY to finally be confirmed.

But the validation in that for many of us, especially for me as a sad, abused, old soul kid to grown ass pansexual woman and screenwriter specializing in women-lead stories -- was indescribable.

If you want to experience the greatness, it all started with the Star Trek: Voyager Season 3 finale, that carried over into Season 4 and the rest of the series (7 total seasons). And then Seven of Nine's story, which continued in an epic return celebrated by all fans years later, in the Paramount+ series Star Trek: Picard (2020-2023).

Enjoy.

That's probably because you've been standing here by yourself.

[marsdql]

𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 & 𝙡𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jake × girlfriend!fem!reader (featuring Sunghoon and Ni-ki)

Synopsis: You and your boyfriend's bandmates decided to surprise your lovely hardworking puppy for his birthday yuuuururrrr yup yup

Genre: teeth rotting fluff, little suggestive ending, jakes birthday!!

𝙈𝙖𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: Happy Birthday Jake Skibidi i love that man... (requests are currently opened) Dont really have much to say since I posted yesterday but.... Ill be making a masterlist soon to organize my fics! ( Sorry for being inactive, I almost quit this morning i was having a moment,...) ENJOY !!!

You couldn’t contain your excitement. Today was Jake’s birthday, and you had something special planned with his closest friends, Sunghoon and Ni-ki. Jake was the type who’d do anything to make his friends happy, so this year, you wanted to make sure his birthday was one he’d never forget.

After a week of whispered phone calls and sneaky planning sessions, everything was finally coming together. You’d rented a cozy rooftop space downtown with fairy lights strung along the railings, a table set with his favorite snacks, and a small corner dedicated to photos of all the memories he’d made with his friends and with you.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you and Jake’s friends finished up the last-minute details. Ni-ki, as usual, was cracking jokes while struggling with the balloons, while Sunghoon meticulously adjusted the lights, making sure everything looked perfect.

“You guys ready?” you asked, eyeing the setup with a smile.

Sunghoon nodded, taking a step back to survey their work. “He’s going to freak out when he sees this.”

“He’d better,” Ni-ki joked, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. “After all this effort, he owes us dinner for a year!”

Just as you all shared a laugh, you got a text from Jake. He was on his way, completely oblivious to the surprise waiting for him. The three of you scrambled to hide and take your places, shushing each other as you saw his silhouette coming up the stairs.

Jake opened the door, and as he stepped onto the rooftop, everyone jumped up and yelled, “SURPRISE!”

He froze, his eyes wide as he took in the scene. The fairy lights cast a warm glow, illuminating the table piled with his favorite treats and the wall of photos filled with moments of him laughing, goofing around, and sharing memories with his closest friends.

“Y/N? Sunghoon? Ni-ki?” he stammered, looking around in awe. “You guys… did all this?”

You stepped forward, beaming. “Happy Birthday, Jake! We wanted to make sure today was as amazing as you are.”

Jake's gaze softened, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “I don’t know what to say. This is… incredible.”

Ni-ki nudged him playfully. “Come on, Jake, don’t get too sappy. This rooftop rental wasn’t cheap!”

Everyone burst into laughter as Sunghoon handed him a small party hat. “Put it on,” he insisted, grinning. “Birthday boy rules.”

Jake obliged, chuckling as he let his friends shower him in confetti and hand him snacks. Eventually, he made his way over to the photo wall, his fingers brushing over the snapshots.

“Where did you find all of these?” he asked, his voice filled with nostalgia.

Sunghoon smirked, exchanging a knowing glance with you. “It wasn’t easy, but Y/N and I managed to dig some up from your old albums. Turns out, you have a lot of embarrassing baby photos.”

Jake turned to you, chuckling softly, his eyes shining. “I can’t believe you did all of this.”

“Of course I did,” you replied, stepping closer. “You’re worth every second of planning.”

As the night wore on, the four of you shared stories, laughed until your sides hurt, and reminisced about all the adventures you’d had together. Jake couldn’t stop smiling, his eyes lighting up every time he looked around at his friends.

Later, as the others gathered on the far side of the rooftop to argue over the playlist, Jake turned to you, his voice soft. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

Your heart fluttered, and you looked up at him, feeling the warmth in his gaze. “I’m just glad you’re happy, Jake.”

He gave you a shy smile, his hand finding yours. “I am. And it’s all because of you.”

The two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s warmth under the glow of the fairy lights, making a memory that you both knew you’d cherish forever.

The rooftop was quiet now, the fairy lights casting a soft glow over the scattered decorations as you and Jake stood side by side, watching the city lights below. Sunghoon and Ni-ki had just left, leaving you and Jake alone. You felt a flutter in your chest – the kind that only happened when it was just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment.

“Tonight was… perfect,” he murmured, his voice low. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he pulled you closer.

You looked up at him, your heart racing as you took in the soft look in his eyes. "I’m glad you had fun. You deserve it, Jake.”

He smiled, his gaze dropping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy. And I think it’s mostly because of you.”

You swallowed, the intensity of his gaze making your skin tingle. The air between you felt charged, his thumb softly tracing circles on the back of your hand.

Jake gently lifted your chin, his face only inches from yours. "Thank you… for everything tonight." His voice was barely a whisper as he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was slow, tender, his hand finding the small of your back and pulling you close.

The world seemed to melt away as his hands slipped around your waist, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket. His lips moved with yours, gentle at first but growing more insistent as he deepened the kiss. You felt your knees weaken as he pressed you back gently against the rail, his hands framing your face.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "I could get used to this," he murmured, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed softly, a little breathless. “Who says you have to stop?”

His eyes darkened, and his arms tightened around you. “Good,” he whispered, pulling you into another kiss, this time slower, more lingering – the kind of kiss that promised a night you’d both remember.

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

( marsdql ) >.< !!

[babybeeelle]

Coucou ! J’avais une demande si tu le veux bien. In episode 4 Rio will join Agatha during the campfire can you do something in this style but it is Reader who will see Agatha, reader is the only one to know the real story about Nicky and of course Agatha loves Reader and she needs her by her side 😌

Hello my love💗 Such a cute prompt! I enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Author's Note : pls leave some feedback! This is my first fic in years, second overall :(

The Weight of Scars

The second trial's aftermath was not any less stressful than the first. Seeing Agatha's trauma resurface from the close call with Teen was unnerving to say the least. You could hear the pain in her voice when she begged Rio not to take him with a simple "don't", although the others were completely unaware of the double meaning behind it.

I saw her though. I saw the gaping wound in her heart that could never be mended. I was there after all. The loss of Nicky snapped whatever sanity and sympathy Agatha had left. Even after centuries, the pain was all the same. She didn't only lose Nicky, but she also lost Rio. Even if she would never admit it, I know that she craves the comfort of Death. But pride and grief are always going to hinder her ability to heal, and she'll never confront them. Not by choice anyways.

After Agatha is assured Teen is okay, she went to join the others by the campfire where everyone traded stories of the scars they've collected throughout their lives. She situates herself in the available spot to the right of me. Unfortunately, for Agatha of course, she found herself seated next to her former lover.

Jen asks Agatha about her own battle scars. She shares a story about one of her many infamous witch-killing rituals, which earns some laughs. That's when Rio decided to share a story of her own.

"I've got a scar," she admits.

Uh-oh.

"No you don't," Agatha denied without even glancing over at her, continuing to fix her sleeve after showing the others her knitting needle scar. I begin to think that whatever Rio has to say is going to hit a nerve.

"Yes I do. A long time ago, I loved someone," she began her story of the only scar she has, a scar that cannot be physically healed. "And I had to do something I did not want to do, even though it was my job." She was attempting to rationalize the situation to Agatha, wishing hopefully that after centuries of separation, her lover would see the bounds of her nature, her job, the shackles weigh down her arms. Rio cautiously glances over at her occasionally, trying to read her expression as she finishes, "And it hurt them. She is my scar."

Rio then held eye contact with her, trying to see if she got through to her, even if it was only a little bit. She wanted Agatha to see she had her hands tied. I watched Agatha carefully, as I knew this sensitive topic was going to do no good. Rio and I both see she is trying to avoid eye contact with her, knowing that despite her devoid expressions, her eyes hold all of her emotions. I watch her hands move, almost as if she is unconsciously trying to summon her purple. Agitated, Agatha gets up from her spot as she exhales, "I'm gonna go stretch my legs." She walks off hastily, away from the others. Rio started to move, wanting to go after her, but I shook my head to express to her that it wasn’t a good idea. That she needs the time to cool off. I stood up, lightly squeezing Rio's shoulder to comfort her.

She knew I never blamed her. Rio did everything she could to give him borrowed time. We had accepted Nicky's fate long before he passed, we mourned together, but Agatha refused. She did everything in her power to find a way to keep him alive. Agatha was so lost in her denial, her mission to save our son, to see that there was no other way, to see that Rio didn't have a choice. The aftermath of Nicky's death was even more painful than losing Nicky. I was put into a situation where I had figure out how to handle the split of my partners. Rio made the decision for me. She knew Agatha was going to need me more than ever. But Rio never lost me. In the moments when Agatha rested, I would check up on Rio. Making sure she knew I'd never leave her alone.

I trailed behind Agatha. When we were out of the eyes and ears of the others, we stopped.

As I close the space between us, I turn her around to face me. I reach out to place my hand to her cheek. As I look into her distressed, blue eyes, I see her facade crumble. I quickly pull her into my arms, wrapping her into a familiar comfort she always felt around me. She collapses in my arms as she muffles her sobs into my chest. It physically hurts to see her in this pain. Our bond, so deep, creates a gateway from her heart to mine. I feel her pain, her grief, her torment. I feel the restless resentment she holds towards Rio.

"I will never forgive her," she whispers, her voice trembling under the weight of her pain. Tears streak down her face, paths were made that glisten in the moonlight.

Pulling us apart to hold her face, I wipe her tears from her cheeks, and I whisper back with a heavy heart, "I know." Nose to nose, I go to kiss her softly, hoping to lighten her pain. When our lips meet, I'm hesitant at first, unsure if this was what she needs. She closes the space between us, deepening the kiss. Our kisses are delicate, slow, passionate, as I feel the tides of her emotions rushing in.

I feel my other lover hiding in the shadows, her heart aching from the bitter truth, wishing most to change the past.

[oshinohoshi]

Oshi no Ko chapter 166 thoughts - the end of all things

So uh... the only positive thing I can say here besides the beautiful Ai art is that I felt sad reading the page where Miyako was hugging Ruby. Everything else left me completely empty

This chapter is either:

A) A self-aware ending meant to show that life is suffering and the idol industry will suck out your soul if you let it

B) Outsourced to someone who skimmed OnK for 30 seconds on Wikipedia before putting pen to paper

It has to be A, right? You can't tell me that the same author wrote both of these pages without the right being ironic

But I don't think so because big brained Akane is the one clumsily narrating this crappy montage masquerading as a real ending

Aqua died for nothing. His sister is now a soulless cog in the idol machine

Ruby is mimicking Ai's speech - "Lies are an outstanding kind of love... We pile on the lies and no matter how hard things get, we sing and act happy onstage. It's a fun job!" But she forgot the rest of it: "Only, I'd like the 'being happy' part to be real. Nobody notices, but we have hearts and lives of our own. Happiness as a mother. Happiness as an idol. Normally you'd have to pick one, but I want both. Ai Hoshino is a greedy girl"

Ai wasn't only a misunderstood girl who worked hard to please her fans. That was a big part of her story but she also broke the rules to create her own family, her own happiness

Ruby, on the other hand, seems to have no real desires anymore, she's just following a path she believes her mother and Aqua paved for her. Never mind that Aqua only wanted it in the end because she wanted it and Ai just wanted her kids to be happy

You can tell that Akasaka is patting himself on the back for making a cyclical narrative where Ruby becomes Ai 2.0 by being commodified, scrutinized, and idolized like Ai was

But it's such a flimsy parallel when it comes to the theme of lies because lying to hide your grief =/= "lies are love" which was the only way Ai knew how to frame her genuine desire to love

And Ai's "I love you" to her kids was true whereas Ruby has swallowed her own lie that being an idol is fun even when you're just doing it to outrun your pain

What this chapter showed us is that the meaning of Ruby's life is to be Ruby of B Komachi and she was put on Earth to sing pop songs. Because that's what Ai did, right? If I remember correctly, her final words were "I'm so glad I got to be an idol #blessed"

My God was the Dome concert soulless. Miyako and Ichigo crying happy tears is a punch to the gut. Doesn't Miyako know her daughter is still hurting?

The last scene is so fucking depressing

Ruby, are you okay? Blink twice if you still remember your life outside the idol industry!

The last two pages work really well as horror. She has a brilliant smile but you can tell that she's dead inside. She's got more merch on her table than photos. Why doesn't she have a corkboard of family photos? Although I more or less have this Ai plushie and it's pretty cute so I'll give this a pass because it's hilarious

I guess the takeaway here is to live for others and life is painful so just grin and bear it. Oh yeah, and inspire other young women to join an industry where they get to act happy and lose their humanity. Cool

I mean I get that it's supposed to be about moving on with your life even while grieving and that's a good message, sure, but Aka's insistence on using the word "lies" multiple times as if saying it makes it make sense ruins the whole thing

The most insane part is that this chapter is a wholehearted endorsement of the lies sold by the entertainment/idol industry

I haven't even said anything about anyone besides Ruby because what's the point? Aka didn't have time to do justice to any of the characters I grew to love

It's clear something went wrong with the timeline of wrapping up OnK. No artist wants to execute a final chapter like this. I'm convinced the film reel edges are Aka and Mengo's way of telling the reader, "we know this is a shitty clips show so don't @ us on Twitter about it"

But it's so much worse than that. Aka really decided to tear to shreds everything he worked so hard on for 4 years. Damn

This is my favorite manga and I'll always love that it gave me Ai, my most beloved character of all time, but this leaves an extremely bitter aftertaste. It's really hard to believe that the same person who wrote vol 1 wrote this.

OnK has been pretty important to me. Reading weekly, chatting with fans, and reaching dangerous levels of Ai brain rot has actually been a helpful distraction. TBH I've been a little too invested in it but sometimes you need escapism. So it's crazy that I'm kind of glad it's over.

But this is why fanfic, fanart, and your own headcanons exist. In another universe, this manga wrapped up beautifully and I was depressed for weeks because I couldn't look forward to it anymore. In this universe, at least we're all suffering together here at the end of all things.

And at least the little Hoshino family is still adorable. Too bad Ai is dead, Aqua is dead, and Ruby desperately needs grief counseling. But NEVER MIND. Look at Ai's smile and the twins' faces. This was the Oshi no Ko I really loved.

[bullet-prooflove]

Yo! I'd like to request prompt 41. "I wanna spend my life with you" for Richie Jerimovich, please :)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @lostinwonderland314 @fallout-girl219 @wabi-sabi1090 @morgthemagpie

Companion piece to:

One Night Stand (NSFW) - It was never meant to be more than a one night stand.

Old School - Richie and you prefer to do things old school.

Safe With You - Richie still has nightmares about how he found Michael.

Joy - The stabbing leads Richie to confront some of the doubts he has about himself.

Richie realises he wants to marry you because of Taylor Swift.

It starts with a conversation in the park between you and Eva. The two of you are eating ice cream and discussing the merits of the ‘Midnights’ album vs the ‘Reputation’ album when he catches up with you. He’s still a little stressy about running late for pick up but the sight of you together, it soothes him immediately.

The discussion continues through dinner, shifting to individual songs, the both of you dissecting the lyrics. At this point he’s sure you could write a fucking thesis on the topic.

The thing is three months ago Taylor Swift was barely more than a blip on your radar. Your music taste like his defaulted to the 80s and 90s, now you’re the world’s most foremost expert on Tay-Tay because you’ve allowed his daughter to educate you. Another other woman he knows would have lost patience by now but you, you fucking take that ball and run with it because it’s important to Eva, and she’s important to him.

“You amaze me.” He tells you later that night when Eva’s tucked up in bed. You’re drying the dishes, wearing his White Sox t-shirt and those matching knee socks that do a little something for him. “Anyone else would be running for the hills right now but your standing here singing along to ‘Snow On The Beach’.”

You smile as you shrug your shoulders.

“It reminds me of you.” You tell him as you stand on tiptoes to put the plates away. “You know ‘weird but fucking beautiful’.”

Fuck if that doesn’t hit him right in the heart because no one has ever called Richie beautiful before you.

“Marry me.” He blurts out and you laugh before shaking your head.

“Sorry honey, that’s ‘Love Story’.” You tease him picking up the mug off the draining board and continuing to dry it with the cloth. “Carry on like this and we’ll be revoking your Swiftie fan club card.”

“No Joy.”  He says, getting down on one knee. “I mean it, I want you to fucking marry me.”

Love Richie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[kseniyagreen]

Episode 28 spoilers.

Shame on me, I thought this drama couldn't get any more romantically queer...

So we have the story of the mermaid and the man who seduced and used her in hopes of saving his wife and child.

And then we have our found family, who are faced with the choice of saving their "child" but sacrificing ZYZ, who has the core that everyone wants.

I see...

Actually, a very important theme about family dynamics. Even when we love everyone in the family, deep down there is always a desire to be that special someone, the most precious one that won't be exchanged for anyone.

I already know that Ying Lei plays a role here, but I'm sure he spoke these words specifically from his heart. This is his personal pain - the one everyone loves, but he seems special to no one. And even his own father sacrificed his life for ZYZ.

Ying Lei is mostly comic relief in the drama, but I'm starting to worry that his ending will break my heart.

And now ZYC is being pushed to choose between his "child" and his "mermaid".

I can hear something cracking inside of ZYZ at that moment.

If ZYZ ever asked the void on a dark night if ZYC would prefer ZYZ never exist and so his brother be alive - he got his answer here.

I'm certainly glad that ZYZ heard once again how much Yichen loves him - to the point of being willing to fight his friends and take the blame for not saving his adopted younger brother on his soul if they can't find another way. But I'm certainly angry that they put Yichen through all of this.

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship pt 3

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Physical Violence, mention of Domestic Abuse, Language, little bit of spice

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309. In this story the reader is a widow who has a 4 year old daughter. She’s dating a very abusive man, so she enrolls her daughter in preschool to keep her as shielded as possible. At the preschool we find her daughter has made friends with a set of twins. At pick up one day the reader realizes the parent of her daughter’s best friend is none other than Jensen Ackles. A friendship forms, and decisions are made after a particularly nasty fight with her boyfriend. 

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.

This chapter got a bit long….sorry. This chapter is a bit of a roller coaster, hold on. I promise it’s worth it, and please don’t come at me for things between the reader and Jensen. Things happen in life at different times. 

Minors DNI 18+

I smiled back, but as soon as he opened the door my smile was replaced by a look of horror. Jensen turned to look at the person at the door as I said, “Robert.”

Jensen’s jaw tightened. “Y/N, baby, I’ve missed you.” Jensen stepped, blocking Robert from seeing me.

“Who the hell are you, pretty boy?” Robert snarled. “The man who is going to tell you one time to get the fuck off this porch before I make you leave.” Jensen’s voice was stern and booming.

Robert scoffed, “I came to see my girlfriend, you need to step aside.” “She’s NOT your girlfriend, she broke up with you then you came back and beat her up.” Robert was trying to talk over Jensen’s shoulder, “Baby, please. I’m sorry. You know how I can get. You upset me when you told me to leave. I can’t live without you, please.”

A fury filled my body and I stood. I stepped behind Jensen, and softly touched his back, “It’s okay Jensen.” Jensen’s jaw was still tight but he stepped to my side. 

“Robert, I’m going to tell you one last time. This, us, we’re done. You put your hands on me, I ended up in the hospital from the beating you gave me. You don’t love me, and I’m not sure you’re even capable of it. Get off my property and don’t ever come back around me or my daughter.” 

“You bitch! I gave you 6 months of my life, put up with you and your whiny ass daughter.” Robert lunged for me and Jensen stepped in between the two of us. He grabbed his hand and twisted it behind his back. “Y/N, call the police.” Jensen said over his shoulder.

I grabbed my phone and called the police. The dispatcher told me they would be there in a few minutes. “Jensen, they will be here soon.” I said after I hung up. 

Jensen looked at me, “Thank you sweetheart.” It was a term of endearment I’d heard him say a few times, only this time he said it in front of Robert, which pissed him off. 

“Oh I see, you broke up with me to be with pretty boy here. So how many times has she opened her legs for you? I could barely get her to go down on me, let alone fuck me.” Jensen was furious and without thinking he punched Robert in the face, then grabbed his chin tightly.

“Don’t you ever fucking talk about her like that again. You have no idea what she’s been through. What YOU put her and her daughter through. You don’t get to think about her again. You hear me! You even utter her name and I’ll kick your ass. I’d gladly go to jail for her, for Jazzy.” 

My breath hitched. Nobody had ever defended me like Jensen was. My heart fluttered in my chest. I touched Jensen’s arm, “Jensen, it’s okay. Please don’t do this. He’s not worth it, I’m not worth it. Think about your children, your career. Jensen’s gaze turned toward me, “Y/N you’re worth so much. You’re an amazing mother, a kind person, and so damn beautiful. I’d gladly go to jail for you. Trust me, there is a lot more I’d like to do to him.” 

My hand still on Jensen’s arm, “Please, let him go. Look, the police are here.” Jensen’s eyes turned toward the driveway as a police cruiser pulled up. 

He let his hand drop and the deputy put Robert in cuffs. “I want to press charges against him. He punched me.” Robert yelled as the deputy escorted him to the car.

Jensen approached another officer. “Jensen, how are you?” The man asked. Jensen extended his hand, “I’m good, look man. I did punch him, but he was going for her and there’s no way in hell I was going to stand by and let him put his hands on her again.” “Sounds like you were protecting yourself and her. He has a history of attacking her, and he has a warrant out. Plus I didn’t see it, and I’m not taking his word.”

He smiled at Jensen, and then over at me. He whispered something to Jensen and then Jensen looked at me and smiled. The officer tipped his hat at me and walked away. “So do you know everyone here?” I asked Jensen as the officer walked away. “Oh, kinda. I grew up with Tom. We used to get into trouble growing up.” Jensen laughed. 

I stepped closer to Jensen and placed my hand in his, “Thank you, Jensen. For everything you’ve done for Jazzy and me. I can’t begin to repay you.”

He gently took my face in his hands and held my gaze, “Sweetheart, you don’t have to repay me for anything. We protect the ones we care about. Now come on, let’s go get the kids from school and have a sleepover at my place.” I smiled, “I’m sure the kids will love just one more night together. I’ll go get some things together, and Jensen, thank you.” I placed a soft kiss on his lips as I turned to walk towards my room. 

Jensen’s heart leaped in his chest and he felt a twinge of sadness replaying my words, “just one more night together” he didn’t want just one more night, he wanted the rest of your nights. It scared him, but he was falling in love with you. Jensen knew it was fast, but the need to protect you, give you the love you deserve was overwhelming, and he adored Jazzy. 

I came back to the living room with an overnight bag. “Ready to go home?” Jensen asked. I smiled when he said “home”. “Yeah, let’s go get the kiddos and go home.” 

Jensen took the bag from me and took my hand. My heart fluttered and I felt warmth through my body. Was it possible I was falling in love with him? I swallowed hard and looked at him as he took my hand in his. 

Our fingers interlocked and he held tightly. Jensen smiled at me as we walked to his car. He opened the door for me and I climbed in. Jensen walked around and put my stuff in the trunk then slid in the driver's seat. 

He grabbed my hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. I smiled at him and took a deep breath. Oh I knew I was in trouble. I definitely was falling in love with him. 

We pulled up at the school and Jensen got out. Walking into the school Jensen placed his hand on the small of my back. Looking up at him he smiled, “Is this okay?” I nodded, “Yes, more than okay Jensen.” 

I waited anxiously with Jensen by my side for the kids to come up to the office. I heard Jazzy and Zeppelin giggling before I saw them. 

When Jazzy turned the corner and saw me she ran with her arms open wide. “Mommy!! You’re back. I missed you so much!” I dropped to my knees and pulled her into my arms tightly. I kissed her and told her how much I missed her. 

I noticed Zeppelin and Arrow standing to the side looking a little sad. I opened my arms and motioned for them to come to me and they leaped in my arms too. 

Jensen’s heart leaped. In that moment he saw the love you had for his children just pouring into the tight embrace you held the three children in. 

How could something so new, feel so incredibly perfect and easy? There was no way he could let you go, he only hoped you felt the same way. 

About 15 minutes later JJ was picked up and the six of you were headed to Jensen’s house. The kids talking and giggling in the backseat, Jensen and I stealing glances at each other. 

Something about this felt right, normal. Like it was meant to be. I looked out the window of the car and a tear slipped out. A wave of guilt washed over me. I missed Josh, I missed the life we shared and mourned the future we lost. How would he feel about Jensen? How would he feel about me falling for someone so quickly?

Jensen’s eyes were drifting from the road to me. He noticed my posture change and he caught a glimmer of a tear. Jensen wasn’t sure if he should reach out to me or not. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the four children in the backseat. This moment, with the kids in the backseat and me by his side, felt right. His mind drifted to his late wife. A pang of guilt washed over him. How would she feel if she knew he was falling in love again? Would she be upset, or encourage it? He knew he needed to talk to Jared to help sort out his feelings. 

Arriving at Jensen’s house the kids jumped out and ran inside. Jensen grabbed my bag and helped me inside. “Let me show you where the guestroom is. I just got it cleaned out. Jazzy was sleeping on a makeshift bed in my room, but we can move her into the guestroom tonight.” “Thank you, Jensen. I really appreciate everything.”

Jensen carried my bag upstairs and showed me the guestroom. It was a large room, with an ensuite bathroom, and a king size bed. It was modestly decorated, but was warm and inviting. “I hope this is okay?” I stepped closer, touched his arm and said, “It’s perfect, thank you.” I placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

He cleared his throat, “Well, I’ll let you get settled. I need to make a phone call, but when I’m done I’ll start cooking dinner.” “Jensen, let me help you with dinner, please.” “Oh no, absolutely not. You’re my guest and you need to be resting.” Jensen said.

I sighed, “Okay, I’m not going to argue. I’ll get settled and see you soon.” Jensen smiled in victory and walked to his office. Shutting the door, he sat at the desk and pulled out his phone. Jensen called Jared. “Hey Jens, how’s Y/N?” Jared asked as he answered the phone. “She’s good, we are home, well at my house. I really needed to talk to you, Jar.” 

“Sure, man. What’s up? Is everything okay?” “I don’t know man. We kissed and it felt right, perfect. Being with her feels natural, the kids all being together, it feels like…” Jensen’s voice trailed off and Jared spoke, “Like the two of you are meant to be together?” Jensen’s voice soft, “Yes.”

Jared and Jensen sat in silence for a minute. “Jar, I’m falling in love with her and it scares the hell out of me. I feel like I’m betraying Dee, but, ugh, I don’t know man.” Jensen ran his hand through his hair. “Jensen, you’re not betraying anyone. She would want you to be happy and move on. If things feel like this, talk to Y/N. I bet she’s feeling the same way because what you’re saying has happened. Just talk to her, please.” 

Jensen sighed, “Yeah, thanks man. I’ll let you know how it goes.” “Okay, and Jensen, everything is going to be fine.” After a few minutes of talking the two friends said their goodbyes, leaving Jensen with his thoughts. Thoughts that kept drifting back to you, the kiss, and how it felt to have your hand in his. He took a deep breath and let it out. He knew he needed to talk to you. If the death of his wife taught him anything it was to never leave anything unsaid.

Walking through the house, he found you downstairs watching the kids play outside. A smile plastered on your face.

I turned when I heard Jensen walk into the room, “Hey, look at these four. They are having a blast. I’m so glad Jazzy has them.” Jensen smiled, stepped closer and looked at the children playing in the backyard. 

I felt him step closer to me, his body heat enveloping me like a warm blanket. 

His hand brushed gently against mine and I looked at him. His green eyes full of love and desire. Jensen smiled and softly said, “Hey, can we talk?” I nodded, my heart thumping loudly in my ears and caught in my throat.

We sat down on the couch, and I was terrified. I didn’t realize I was shaking, Jensen took my hands in his. “Y/N, it’s okay. You don’t have to be scared of me, of anything ever again. I’m here for you and Jazzy for as long as you want.” 

My head was down, I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I knew if I did all the love, all the feelings I was trying to keep inside would just bubble out. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, I couldn’t take his children away from Jazzy.

Jensen’s hands lightly tilted my chin up, “Please look at me, sweetheart.” My eyes flicked up and I looked into his. Jensen smiled, “I have no idea how to start this conversation, and I don’t know how it’s going to end but I do know I need to tell you this.” 

I swallowed hard, terrified of what he was about to say. My words caught in my throat, my voice wouldn’t allow me to speak so I just nodded.

“When my wife died I was devastated, lost and broken. My focus shifted to the kids and taking care of them. Then you and Jazzy came into our lives. Now my focus has shifted again, and it includes you and Jazzy. I can’t explain it, but being with you, having the two of you here feels right, like you’re supposed to be here. Then we kissed and I haven’t felt what I felt in a long time. It honestly scares me because it’s so fast, but I’m ready to jump into whatever this is. I think, no, I know I’m falling in love with you, Y/N.” Jensen let out a deep breath when he finished talking, it was like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders.

Tears filled my eyes. Jensen’s flashed with fear. “Jensen, when Josh died I didn’t think I’d ever be whole again. I had Jazzy and I felt so alone. I finally got the courage to date and you saw how that ended with Robert. Then you and your kids came into our lives at just the right moment. When you moved heaven and earth to get to me after I called you that night, when you took Jazzy in and sat at the hospital with me, I knew I was falling for you. Then we kissed and I hadn’t felt anything like that since Josh. When you protected me from Robert today, I knew I had fallen in love with you. You and your kids are everything to me. I’m scared, but more scared to just walk away from this. I don’t know where this is going to lead, but if you’re willing to try, so am I.” 

Jensen softly smiled and I saw the fear in his eyes replaced with joy and love. He cupped my face, leaned in and kissed me. My hands went in his hair and he pulled me close. He deepened the kiss. We were so into the kiss we didn’t hear the door open. 

Then a little voice pulled us out of the kiss, “Daddy..” Jensen smiled against my lips as we pulled away. My face was red and he was smiling, “Hey Zeppy, what’s up buddy?” “Um, can we have a snack?”

Jensen cleared his throat, stood and said, “Yep, let’s get you guys some snacks.” Jensen looked back at me and winked and I smiled.

I stood and walked in the kitchen to help him make a snack. Each time we passed each other we would gently touch each other. He reached above my head to grab some plates and as he did he placed a soft kiss on my cheek. 

Butterflies filled my stomach. I felt like a teenager in love. 

We walked outside with the snacks and were greeted by four giggling children. “What’s so funny guys?” Jensen asked as he set the snacks down. JJ walked over, “Daddy, are you and Miss Y/N getting married?” Jensen and I both looked stunned, “What? Why would you ask that?” “Because Zeppy said he saw you two kiss like you and mommy used to.” 

My face burned red hot. Jensen chuckled, “No, sometimes when you like someone a lot you kiss them like that to show them. But only grown ups kiss like that.” You chuckled when he said that because it was such a dad thing to say. 

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and spending time together. Jensen made burgers on the grill as the kids played in the yard and I sat watching. I tried to help but he wouldn’t let me. 

I sat on the back porch as the sun started setting, watching the kids play and Jensen cooking. I couldn’t help but smile. This was a perfect moment. Jazzy was having so much fun playing with the kids and I loved seeing this side of Jensen. 

“Hey, sweetheart, what are you thinking about?” Jensen asked as he smiled at me. “Just how perfect this is. Jazzy is having a blast and I just feel really lucky to be a part of this.” 

Jensen walked over to me, held out his hand and pulled me up. “This can be our life, for as long as you want.” I smiled, looked over at the kids and then up at him. I placed a soft kiss on his lips. 

Jazzy came running up, “Daddy, can I have a juice box?” I whipped my head to look at her, surprised by what she said. Jensen smiled and then Jazzy realized what she said. 

A look of embarrassment crossed her face. She took off inside, crying. 

I let go of Jensen and started to go after her. He touched my arm, “Let me go talk to her, please.” He asked gently. I nodded. 

He walked inside and found her hiding on the side of the bed. “Jazzy, sweetie, come out. It’s okay baby.” She peeked over the bed at Jensen. Her big eyes, red from crying. 

He motioned for her to come out. She slowly got up and walked over to him. Jensen pulled her in his lap and hugged her. Jazzy looked at him and sniffled, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you daddy.” She said as her tears fell again. 

Jensen wiped her tears away and hugged her, “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s okay. You can call me Jensen, Daddy, or Daddy Jensen if you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with is okay with me.” 

Jazzy’s eyes went wide, “I can call you daddy?” Jensen smiled and let out a little chuckle, “If you want to.” She smiled and nodded, “I don’t remember my daddy, but mommy says he loved me very much and always took care of me. You take care of me too. I think you are like my daddy.” 

I stood in the hallway listening to them and my heart melted and ached too. Josh was an incredible father and it breaks my heart Jazzy missed out on it, but I’m so glad she has Jensen. 

Jensen hugged her and kissed her head. “Come on sweetie, let’s go get washed up for dinner.” She nodded and jumped down, running out of the room and down stairs. 

When Jensen walked out of the room he saw me and smiled, “How much of that did you hear?” I stepped up to him, put my arms around his neck, “Enough to know you’re more amazing than I imagined, and we are so lucky to have you.” Jensen smiled, pulled me flush to his body, “I’m the lucky one baby. You and Jazzy fit perfectly here with us.” 

I smiled and kissed him, he deepened the kiss and I couldn’t help but moan in his mouth. When we finally parted I looked into his green eyes, “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of kissing you.” Jensen laughed, “Good, because I won’t either.” Then he kissed me again. 

A few hours later the giggles of the children had quieted and they were in bed. Jensen and I sat together on the couch. My legs to the side of me as I laid against him. His arm laying on me, and his fingers dancing up and down my arm.

“Jensen, how is this going to work?” I asked, breaking the silence that filled the room. Jensen turned towards me, taking my hands in his, “Baby, we will figure it out. When I’m gone filming I’ll call you as often as I can, video chat when I can too, when I’m home, we will all be together, spending nights like this. I’m all in, Y/N.” 

“I’m all in too, Jensen.” I moved to kiss him and he pulled me over to straddle his lap. My sleep shorts were thin and his sweatpants left nothing to the imagination. As I straddled him and kissed him deeper, I could feel his arousal pressing into me. My hips moved down and pressed his desire into me, pulling a moan from his lips. 

His hands trailed up my body and it sent a rush of heat through my body. My heart quickened as my hands rested on his rock hard chest. I could feel my desire growing as Jensen’s hands moved over my body.

His teeth pulled my lower lip and I moaned. Jensen’s hands tugged at the hem of my shirt. I shook my head and he quickly pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the side. My bra covered breasts exposed to the cool air. Jensen looked over my body, his eyes scanning every inch. It made me feel vulnerable and desired all at once. His fingers danced across my skin, softly touching each bruise left by Robert. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You deserve so much better.” His lips kissed each bruise, like a silent plea to make it go away. I had never felt more wanted, needed and protected then I did when I was in his arms.

“Jensen, please.” “Are you sure, darlin’? We don’t have to rush this.” “Yes, I want this, I want you. If you do.” 

Jensen pulled me into a deep kiss. This kiss was different than before. It was full of need, passion and want. I returned his kiss with equal fervor. 

Jensen leaned back, “Come on, sweetheart, let’s take this to the bedroom.” I nodded and he helped me stand. He took my hand and led me through the house to his bedroom. 

Once in the room, he closed the door and locked it. Capturing my lips again, he led me backwards to the bed. Gently laying me down, he hovered over me. He leaned up and removed his shirt. When I took in his chest, my thighs clenched together. Damn this man was stunning. 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Jensen asked softly as his lips trailed over my skin. “Yes. I’m ready, are you?” Jensen nodded, “More than ready.”

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@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98

@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen

@mandee7

[honeyjars-sims]

3.39 Decent Proposal(s)

The Spring semester was drawing to a close and while Chantal aced her exams as usual, she wasn't feeling any more motivated to continue her schooling than she had in the fall. When Kayla suggested they meet up to chat, Chantal hoped for an opportunity to discuss her friend's business plans in greater depth.

Chantal's wish came true: Kayla told her that the ideas Chantal had shared with her a few months ago had been a big inspiration to her. She now had more clarity about what direction she wanted to take her company in and she was almost ready to file the paperwork to get things started.

Chantal's heart sank a bit until Kayla explained there was one thing she was waiting on.

"I don't want to use your ideas unless you can profit from them, too," she said. She made Chantal an offer--either she could pay Chantal for the rights to her designs, or Chantal could become a partner in her business.

"Of course, if you don't want me to use your ideas at all, I'll go back to the drawing board," Kayla assured her.

Chantal thought about it. She knew she didn't want to sell the rights, but starting a business was a big risk. She would likely have to put her schooling on hold for something that might not ever get off the ground. Still, she couldn't turn down an opportunity to do something she'd been dreaming of her whole life. She gleefully accepted Kayla's offer to become her business partner.

Chantal wasn't the only one with something to celebrate. Cece finally graduated from university. She was ecstatic to finally be able to join Ben on tour and become an official member of his band.

After the ceremony, Ben and Cece shared a meal with Cece's family. She couldn't help but notice that her usually easy-going boyfriend seemed a bit more nervous than usual.

After dinner, he suggested he and Cece take a walk. He lead her down to the water's edge and just as the sun began to set, Ben got down on one knee.

Ben looked into her eyes. "Cecelia, being away from you has made me realize how much better life is with you by my side. Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" she squealed. Cece wasn't usually one for big displays of emotion, but tears of happiness were forming in her eyes.

"I love you, Benjamin Coleman."

"And I love you, Cecelia Fields-Haim."

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[soleillunne]

— To everyone I've had the pleasure of meeting here,

I just want to take a moment to say thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart. You’ve each been there in different ways, each of you bringing something unique and special into my life. Whether it’s a quick message that brightens my day, the way you listen and support me when things are rough, or the laughter we share that somehow makes everything a little easier—I’m so grateful for all of it, and for each of you.

You’ve all been a part of my life’s ups and downs, and I honestly can’t imagine getting through it all without your presence and support. Some of you have been there from the very beginning, steady and constant, while others have entered my life more recently, bringing new warmth and joy. Each one of you has touched my life in ways I can’t fully express, and I hope you know how deeply I value and appreciate you.

Thank you for being there, for being yourselves, and for allowing me to share a part of this journey with you. Whether we talk every day or just every so often, you mean more to me than words can say. Your kindness, patience, humor, and loyalty mean the world to me, and I’m so incredibly lucky to know you all.

Here’s to every laugh, every shared thought, every moment of support, and every memory we’ve made together. I’m beyond grateful, and I look forward to making even more memories with each of you. Thank you for being you—there’s truly no one else like you, and I’m so lucky to call you my friends.

With all my love and gratitude, always.

-Aly.

@starrveill :

Fawn,

Every conversation with you feels like stepping into a warm embrace—a burst of sunlight that seems to reach into even the cloudiest corners of my day. You have this incredible way of making everything feel lighter, brighter, and somehow more alive. I honestly can’t remember a single dull moment with you; every time we talk, it’s like a spark that adds so much more color and joy to life. You bring an energy that’s so rare and beautiful, and I’m so grateful for it.

Talking to you reminds me again and again just how special you are. There’s this light within you, something deeply genuine, and it’s impossible not to feel its warmth. I could spend hours with you, listening, laughing, sharing stories, and it would never be enough—I’d never tire of it because being around you is like breathing fresh air after being cooped up indoors for ages.

I love you in a way that’s beyond words, more deeply than anything I could ever fully express. If I could, I would take away every single one of your worries, anything that ever brings you down, just to see you at peace and filled with happiness. You deserve nothing less than boundless joy, endless laughter, and all the good things that life has to offer. And please know that, if there’s ever a way for me to make even a sliver of that come true, I’ll be here, always. You’re worth the world and so much more, and I’d do anything to see you smile.

@umgatochamadopercyval :

Clara,

Thank you so much for being such a steady presence in my life, even when we don’t talk as often as I’d like. I know I’m not always the easiest to keep up with, but you somehow manage to be patient and understanding in ways that mean so much to me.

Even in the times we’re apart, I always know I can count on you, and it’s such a comforting feeling. You put up with my quirks, my silences, and my scattered attempts to stay in touch, and I’m genuinely grateful for that. You’re one of those rare people who makes life feel a little easier, even from a distance. Thank you for being you, and for being there, no matter what.

@romaritimeharbor :

Aph,

Thank you so, so much for always listening to my silly ideas and endless rambles, for letting me share my thoughts and dreams with you, and for being so wonderfully patient through it all. It means the world to have someone as understanding as you, who genuinely listens and never makes me feel like I’m saying too much or being too much. You’re not only kind beyond measure, but you’re also such a genuinely amazing person in every single way—someone whose warmth, humor, and openness create this space where I can be completely myself.

Every time I see you on my dash, it’s like a little burst of joy, something that brightens my day without fail. You have this incredible way of bringing extra sunshine into everything you do, and it makes such a difference. Just knowing that someone as kind and wonderful as you is out there brings me so much comfort and happiness. You’re truly one of a kind, someone whose presence is a gift, and I’m so so grateful for you.

And on top of everything, you’re one of the most talented, creative people I know. The things you create are filled with this unique spark that only you could bring to them, and it’s inspiring to see. I hope you never lose that light, that beautiful spark in you that brings so much magic to your work and to everyone around you. Thank you for being you—for all the ways you make life a little bit better.

@kopivie :

Cinna,

You are absolutely amazing, and I mean that with everything in me. It’s hard to find the right words to capture just how much you mean to me, but I’ll try. You have this rare, incredible kindness and warmth that the world honestly doesn’t deserve. You give so much of yourself to others—more than most people will ever know—and you do it with such quiet grace, as though it’s just the most natural thing in the world. Even when life throws challenges your way, you somehow keep shining through it all, and it’s nothing short of inspiring.

It breaks my heart that the world hasn’t been nearly as kind to you as it should be. You deserve so much more—more happiness, more peace, more of the love and care you so freely give. The fact that you’ve had to face so much is a damn shame, because if anyone deserves the entire world, it’s you. The strength you have to keep going, to keep being this light for others, is something I admire deeply. And when things get tough, I just want you to know that I’ll be here, ready to tell the world to fuck off whenever it tries to dim your light.

Thank you for sticking with me through everything, for being such a constant, loyal friend. You’ve been there for me in ways I can’t even begin to describe, and that kind of friendship is something so rare and precious. Your presence in my life means more than I can say, and I’m beyond grateful to have you. You’re one in a million, a friend that anyone would be lucky to have, and I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you, just as you’ve always been there for me.

You mean the world to me, and I hope you always remember how loved and appreciated you are.

@papiliotao :

Rei,

Even though we haven’t talked as much lately, you’re still so dear to me, more than words can capture. I honestly think of you as a sister—you have this warm, calming aura that just makes me feel safe, like everything’s going to be okay. Knowing you’re out there, even if we’re not talking every day, brings me so much comfort.

You’re so kind, and I can never be thankful enough for everything you’ve given just by being you. Thank you for being such a light in my life. You mean the world to me, and I hope you know that.

@kazumist :

Aki,

It’s been so long since we last talked, but I still think about how kind, funny, and incredibly talented you are. You’re honestly one of the sweetest people I know, and every memory of talking with you brings such a smile to my face. You have this amazing way of lighting up conversations and making people feel genuinely good.

I really hope we get the chance to talk more sometime, if we can both find the time! It would be amazing to catch up, and I just know it’d be just as fun and heartwarming as always.

@yaminohimeyume :

Yume,

We haven’t had the chance to talk as much lately, but I just want you to know how much you mean to me. You are, without a doubt, one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met, and the kindness you’ve shown me is something I’ll always cherish. Even in the smallest interactions, you have this way of making me feel understood, valued, and supported, and I can’t express how deeply that touches me. I hope you realize just how special you are and how much I genuinely appreciate every little thing you’ve done.

Thank you for being such a wonderful presence in my life—a constant source of warmth and light. Your kindness and sweetness are rare and beautiful, and I’m beyond grateful to have had even a small part of it.

@nordicbananas :

Shroom,

Thank you, truly, for being there for me in every way that matters, for standing by my side and offering your support, from the very beginning. Your kindness and warmth have been such an incredible gift, something I genuinely cherish and hold close to my heart. You've always been a constant source of comfort and encouragement, bringing light into even the darkest days, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me.

I feel so incredibly lucky to have someone like you in my life—someone who’s as caring, genuine, and thoughtful as you are. You’re one of the sweetest, most understanding people I know, and the way you’ve shown up for me time and time again is something I’ll never take for granted. You have this amazing ability to lift me up just when I need it most, and your presence has been a true blessing that I don’t think I could ever thank you enough for.

Your friendship means more to me than words could ever capture. Thank you for being there, for every conversation, every laugh, every moment of support. Having you in my life has been one of the greatest gifts, and I’m so so grateful for all the ways you’ve shown me your kindness.

@lexisism :

Alexis,

I can’t put into words just how much your kindness and warmth have impacted me. You’re one of the most genuinely compassionate people I know, and knowing you has made my life so much richer. Whether in moments of joy or times of challenge, you've always been there with an open heart and a gentle strength, supporting me through everything with such kindness and care. There are so many ways you've helped and encouraged me, and I don’t know what I would have done without you.

You’re also incredibly talented—everything you create shines with your unique touch, and it’s a privilege to witness the brilliance you bring to the world. Each piece of yours is a reminder of your creativity, your dedication, and just how extraordinary you are.

Talking to you, spending time with you—it lifts me up and reminds me of the beauty in simple moments. I feel so incredibly grateful to have someone like you in my life. Thank you for being such a radiant presence, for always showing me what it means to be truly kind, and for making the world feel like a brighter, better place.

@milk-violet :

Mirei,

You are honestly the sweetest person ever, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart. Talking to you is like a burst of sunshine—it feels effortless and fun, like the world just gets a little brighter whenever you’re around. You have this beautiful, bubbly energy that’s so contagious, and being around you always lifts my spirits in ways I didn’t even know I needed.

Every conversation we have, no matter the topic, is something I genuinely look forward to. You make everything so much more enjoyable, and I love that we can talk about anything and everything without missing a beat. You bring such a joy and warmth into my life, and I feel so lucky to know someone as incredible as you.

Thank you for being you, for every smile you bring, and for being such a wonderful presence in my life. You’re an absolute gem, and I’m beyond grateful for you.

@floraldresvi :

Vivi,

I don’t think I can express just how much you’ve meant to me this year. You’ve been one of the main reasons I could keep going, and I’m beyond grateful for all the kindness and support you’ve shown me. You’ve been so sweet and understanding, never once judging me—only ever encouraging me, lifting me up, and being there through everything. I truly don’t know what I would have done without you by my side.

You’re so, so talented, and it’s incredible to watch you shine. Seeing the things you create, and the way you put your heart into everything you do, is such an inspiration. And somehow, even on my roughest days, you have this magical way of cheering me up like no one else can. Just hearing from you makes everything feel a little easier, a little brighter.

Thank you for being the incredible person you are, for believing in me, and for being a constant source of light. I’m so grateful for you, and I hope you know just how much you mean to me.

@strxnged :

June,

You are honestly one of the kindest and most talented people I know. Every time we talk, I’m reminded of just how much I cherish our conversations. Even though we haven’t been able to talk as much over the past year, each conversation with you feels special, like I’m talking to someone who genuinely understands and cares. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.

Your talent never fails to amaze me. The way you approach things with such passion and creativity is inspiring, and I feel so lucky to witness even a glimpse of it. You’re one of those rare people with a warmth and openness that makes it so easy to talk to you about anything, and every moment shared feels like a gift.

Thank you for being the incredible person you are. You bring so much kindness and beauty into the world, and I’m grateful for every chance I get to know you better.

@meimeimeirin :

Meirin,

I don’t think I can fully put into words just how much you mean to me. You are, without a doubt, one of the kindest souls I know. Your kindness is something rare, and it shines through in every interaction we have. Even though we haven’t been able to talk as often as I’d like lately, I think about you so often, and I just want you to know how much you’re appreciated.

You have this sweetness that makes talking to you feel like a breath of fresh air after a hard day, like a reminder that there are truly good people in the world. And your talent—it's something I’m constantly in awe of. Everything you create seems to have a piece of your warmth and beauty in it, and it’s such a joy to witness.

Thank you for being such a positive, comforting presence in my life, even when we’re not always in touch. You make a difference, and I’m super grateful for every bit of kindness you’ve shown me. Just knowing you’re out there makes the world feel a little brighter.

@camvrin :

Oliver,

Where do I even start? Talking to you is like stepping into a whirlwind—in the best possible way. You’re so wonderfully chaotic, and that’s exactly what makes every conversation with you so much fun. I never know where we’ll end up or what twists the conversation will take, but that’s what makes it feel so refreshing. You keep things lively, spontaneous, and full of laughs, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

You’re not only hilarious, but you’re also genuinely one of the kindest, sweetest people I know. You’ve always been there for me, supporting me in ways that mean more than I can put into words. Somehow, no matter what kind of day I’m having, you always know how to lift my spirits and put a smile on my face.

Talking to you feels like one of those rare, easy connections where I can be myself completely, knowing I’ll always have someone who gets it. I could talk to you for hours on end about anything and everything, and it would never get old. Thank you for being such an incredible friend. You’re truly one of a kind, and I’m so lucky to know you.

@mlkbwunnies :

Ying,

I can’t say it enough—you are truly kindness personified. From the moment we met, you’ve been nothing but incredibly sweet, thoughtful, and supportive. You have this gentle, genuine warmth that’s so rare, and just knowing someone as kind as you makes the world feel a little brighter.

You’ve been there for me in ways I’ll never forget. Whether I needed advice, a kind word, or just someone who would listen, you’ve always been right there, ready to help. It’s the kind of support that sticks with you, and I’m forever grateful for it. I honestly feel so lucky to know you and to have had your friendship in my life.

You deserve the absolute best in this world, because that’s exactly the kind of goodness you bring to others. Thank you for being you, for every act of kindness, and for the countless ways you’ve been there for me. You’re a treasure, and I’m so grateful for you.

@thestarswhisper :

Zee,

You are one of the most talented and sweetest people I know, and I’m so grateful to have you in my life. You’ve been with me for so long, through thick and thin, and knowing you’re there has been such a comfort this past two years. Even though we haven’t had the chance to talk in a while, I think about you often and appreciate you more than words can say.

Your talent is something I’m constantly in awe of. You have this incredible way of bringing so much beauty and meaning into everything you do, and it’s inspiring just to see the amazing things you create. Beyond that, you’re genuinely one of the kindest people I know, and that kindness is something I treasure deeply.

Thank you for sticking by me all this time, for being such a wonderful friend, and for all the ways you’ve supported me. I’m so lucky to know someone as remarkable as you.

@glacialheart :

Mika,

It feels like forever since we last got to chat, and I’ve missed seeing you around. I know life has been super busy for you lately, and I just hope you’re taking care of yourself and finding moments to breathe. You deserve all the rest and peace in the world, and I’m really hoping things ease up soon so you can take a break.

You’re genuinely one of the sweetest people I know, and I don’t think you realize just how talented you are. Your creativity and kindness leave such an impact, and everything you do seems to carry this beautiful spark that’s so uniquely you. Thank you for all the times you’ve been there for me and for being such a steady source of warmth and support.

I hope the days ahead bring you a fresh start and all the happiness you deserve, because you truly mean so much to me. Sending all my love, and know I’m always here if you need anything.

@strryskys :

Avery,

I just have to say how much joy you bring into my life. You are genuinely one of the funniest, most talented people I know, and every time I see you on my dash, it feels like a little boost to my day. There’s something about your humor that’s so effortless—you know exactly how to make me laugh, and it’s such a gift. It’s like you have this natural way of bringing lightness and fun wherever you go, and I’m always so grateful for it.

Not only are you incredibly funny, but you’re also so talented. Every time you share your work, I’m blown away by the skill and creativity you pour into it. You’re one of those rare people who seems to have this spark of inspiration and creativity that just can’t be contained, and it’s amazing to see. I feel lucky every time I get to witness even a piece of what you create.

And beyond all of that, you’re so sweet. You’ve always been so kind and supportive, and it means the world to me. Knowing I have someone as wonderful as you around makes everything feel just a little bit better. You’re a true gem and I hope you know how much you’re appreciated. Thank you for being you, for sharing your humor, your talent, and your kindness. I’m so glad I got to know you and be your friend.

@ruruumin :

Rurumi,

It’s been a while since we last talked, but I wanted to let you know how much you still mean to me. Even from the very beginning, you were nothing but kind and warm, and I can’t tell you how much that meant. I was in awe of you—not only because of your talent but also because of the genuine kindness you showed me right from the start. There’s something so rare and special about that, and it’s something I’ll always cherish.

Your work left such an impression on me; I still remember being completely captivated by your creativity and the incredible skill you put into everything you do. You have this unique talent that feels almost magical, like you’re able to bring your imagination to life in a way that’s truly inspiring. Every piece you create feels like a small masterpiece, and it’s clear that you pour so much of yourself into it. Being able to witness your talent is honestly an honor.

Thank you for being such a sweet and thoughtful friend, for your support, and for all the kindness you’ve shared with me. Even though we haven’t talked as much recently, you’re often in my thoughts, and I’m so grateful for the time we’ve shared. You’re truly one of a kind, and I hope you know just how amazing you are.

@oceanreveuse :

Anastasia,

It feels strange to put this into words, but I just need you to know how much you mean to me, even now. Even though it’s been a couple of months since we last spoke, I still think about you often, and I can’t help but miss you. I keep replaying our conversations in my mind, remembering how much brighter things felt with you around. It feels like there’s this empty space where you used to be, and it’s hard to ignore.

You’ve left such an impact on my life in ways I can’t fully explain. We may not have known each other for long, but somehow, in that short time, you managed to find a place in my heart, and I’m not sure that spot will ever really go away. You brought so much joy and comfort into my life, and I can’t thank you enough for that. I remember feeling truly happy for the first time in a long while, and that was because of you. Knowing someone like you exists gave me a reason to keep going, to hold on to the hope that there are people out there as wonderful as you.

I wish I could tell you all this in person, to let you know just how much I appreciate everything you did for me. I’m grateful beyond words for the time we shared, for the support you offered, and for the kindness you gave so freely. Even now, I find myself wanting to tell you about my day or share a small thought, hoping you’re doing well and finding your own happiness. You were someone who made life feel a little lighter, and I’ll always be thankful for that.

So, even if we don’t talk anymore, please know that you still hold a special place in my heart. You’re unforgettable, one of a kind, and I’ll always be grateful to have had you in my life, even if just for a while. Thank you for everything. I miss you, and I hope you find all the happiness you deserve.

@femivi :

Femi,

Even though we just met not even a week ago, I already feel so lucky to have crossed paths with someone as wonderful as you. From what I’ve seen so far, you’re incredibly sweet, and you have this amazing talent that completely blows me away. It’s rare to meet someone who can leave such an impression in such a short amount of time, but somehow, you’ve managed to do exactly that.

I’m genuinely looking forward to getting to know you better. I can already tell there’s so much more to discover and appreciate about you, and I hope this year gives us plenty of chances to connect, share laughs, and build some great memories. Here’s to what feels like the beginning of something really special—I can’t wait to see where our friendship goes!

— Here's to new beginnings, friends.

[gayofthefae]

Let's do a major contrast I've somehow overlooked. Let's talk WILL'S confession versus Mike's.

Mike and El both express self doubt as prompting for Will and Mike to tell them their feelings to make them love themselves.

But Mike tells Will he feels like El doesn't need him. In response, Will tells him that he lights up the people around him and is their guiding light. In conclusion: he is needed. He says this after "of course she'll need you, she'll always need you" fails.

On the other hand, El tells Mike that she feels like an unlovable monster and he responds that she isn't unlovable and isn't a monster. Essentially, the same direct response that failed for Will (so it's a good thing she already got to self love before he got there).

Mike said he felt unlovable and Will described the definition of love in great detail with him as the subject and concluded by pointing out that what he just described was love. El said she felt unlovable and Mike said that he did love her. He didn't include a personal story - No. He didn't. He included a length of time.

Read that again

Mike absolutely did not tell a story of loving El. He dated his love for. He said 'I have loved you since that one time you looked sweet in that big t shirt'. That was a memory identifier. Even shippers know the shirt isn't what MADE him fall in love with her, it was just endearing.

Mike never told El a story. He did not use a SINGLE EXAMPLE.

Will's speech breakdown was:

You bring light [my life]. You brighten [my] days when [I'm] feeling sad. Being without you is a burden for [me] but having you back is such a joy - so much so that the idea of losing you is terrifying and can make [me] impulsive and avoidant. All that has a name. It's love

Mike's speech breakdown was:

I love you. You think that I don't but I do. I couldn't say it because I was scared but you're more important now. I do love you. I have for two years. Remember two years ago? I do. You're wonderful so please please don't die on me you're so important to me.

And when you see them next to each other like that. Mike's is just the bare bones of Will's...just without any deepening of it. He doesn't describe the emotions he experiences once. But he does go "your self doubt is wrong, compliment, personal story, I was scared, I love you", which is what he got from Will's. Whether he believes himself to be copying Will's words or copying El's, he's taking a speech he was as romantic and mimicking it.

We've seen the van scene a hundred times but Mike hasn't. Will said "you're the heart" and it gave him an idea. So he reapplied the details and quoted a long speech said to him 12 hours prior to the best of his ability of the top of his head.

Because people in real life don't remember monologues said to them like that. Mike probably remembers the most important phrases to him like "you're the heart" but besides that he remembers "you're wrong, personal story, compliment, I was scared, I love you - and when he said I felt really loved".

He's got an emotional memory and because of the recency a pretty clear memory of the speech's structure. He remembers the exact structure and he remembers that it worked, so he uses it. Will reminded him of a love confession that worked to cure self doubt so he uses it.

His confession isn't just plagiarism. It's his best regurgitation. But the only feeling behind it was the desperation for it to work, so it lacks everything it needs to because unlike Will, he doesn't know why he's saying each piece. He doesn't know the story is supposed to be an example of what loves feels like, he just knows there was a story and it worked on him so he thinks of a story and puts it in cliche romantic wording.

Mike's speech is Will's speech if you asked someone who didn't know the justification for any part of it to recite it back to you technically.

"Wrong, story, compliment, scared, love"