#this one is almost done actually. probably a few k to the first fic being completed

[shukakumoodboard]

I feel like this is gonna hurt me but: tell me about "if it's the last night of your life"

~ @nightingaleflowlibrary

have no fear, flow and also anon, you have selected from the repertoire of shenanigans:

which is also colloquially known as: bapeyfic 😌

ok so if it’s the last night of your life, which i shorten to lnyl, is like if the plots of sailing stones and mop got smushed together but also i changed everything knskdhdk

consider the following: years into the fourth great shinobi war, it’s the night before what our heroes believe will be the decisive final battle… and it’s one that everyone thinks they will lose.

so naturally, everyone gotta fuck about it. y e e h a w

i have been plugging away at this one almost exclusively on my phone at random over the last two years, and it’s blown up to uhhhhh 37k words and technically two separate fics, because one is Entirely ✨peanits time✨ and the other is a sequel best summarised by that vine clip of the boy going when will you learn… that actions have CONSEQUENCES mostly bc some people don’t like bapeyfics and im embarrassed i keep writing them but i stay silly

wanna see the page count

(it’s called that which arrives with the sunrise 🙏)

behold! the summary (sorry if weird quote chunks im mobileposting)

“Gaara-kun, you do not have to keep me company. You should be spending this time with your precious person.”

“Precious person? I don’t have one.” His expression softened in the firelight as he looked over at Lee. “And you are my friend.”

—

The war has raged on for years now, but tonight is somehow different. Tomorrow brings the final battle. How it will go is anyone’s guess. For now, though, there is tonight.

thank u for asking i love u both xoxo gossip grill

[thatoneperson747]

Hi

So while procrastinating writing the fic I'm working on, I decided it was time for me to read the Royal Ranger. I only have book one, and I've had it for about a year now, but I never read even the first page. I've heard stuff throughout the fandom about it, but I've tried to stay away from royal ranger specific posts in order to not spoil the book for me.

If you also haven't read it yet and want to avoid spoilers, stop reading now. You've been warned.

Here's the things I knew before reading:

Will has a beard now. This is very controversial.

Alyss dies. She was burned to death. Also very controversial.

Horace and Cassie have a daughter named Maddie. Maddie becomes Will's apprentice.

And that's about it.

I decided that since the Royal Ranger was so hit or miss for the community, I'd document my thoughts on it (as a personal record, if you will) and see how my opinions change, if they change at all. Feel free to laugh at me if I make predictions and they end up being completely wrong lol

I've read the first seven chapters, and here are the main thoughts I have right now.

1. Is Will now just Halt? When he was first being described during the scene with Henry Wheeler, I dead ass thought Flanagan was talking about Halt. I mean, Will is grey already? Like, fully grey. He's described as having a "steel-grey beard." Not grey and brown, just grey. Halt???

2. Alyss' death fit her character well, but why did she have to die? Keep in mind, I was never the biggest fan of Alyss - I thought a character as interesting as a diplomat should have more personality than just "the main character's girlfriend" - but come on? We barely got to see them married. Idk man. I feel like her death would be better justified if they had actually like. been together longer? 10/10 for writing her death though, saving a poor child from death seems really in character for her, especially considering that's pretty much what Baron Arald did for the ward kids (he didn't die for it but still, he saved them from a childhood of neglect and almost certain death). I feel like it's a great wrap to her story, although I wish her story was longer.

3. Crowley was done dirty. What the actual f u c k Flanagan? The Corps Commander, the man, myth, and legend gets a paragraph to explain his death. It's such a lamely written death too? Crowley, a ranger, who was probably in peak health, just nopes out one night. At least he was smiling..? And maybe it's the fact that TEY is my favorite part of the series so far, but Crowley deserved way better than that shit. Also I'm surprised that I managed to not know about Crowley's death before this?? I actually cried reading it. He was such a precious little man in TEY, how could you do this Flanagan???

4. Maddie is a bit of a brat. Not even a bit, she kinda just is. To be fair, Cassie was that way sometimes as well, but Maddie just seems... I don't know, too much of a 'I-do-what-I-want-and-you-can't-stop-me' kinda person, but in a bad way??? Like that one kid in school who would never listen to authority figures and got everyone in trouble all the time? I hope she mellows out because she could be a great character, I think. It's said she takes after her mom, but I'd like to see her act like Horace too.

5. Gilan. Just Gilan. What?? I never liked his relationship with Jenny much, he seems quite a bit too old for her (at least 5 years, most likely quite a bit more since Halt had a few years between Gilan and Will), but he's so relentless in asking her to marry him? Huh??

And also, BOLD of Flanagan to assume Gilan would be hesitant about letting a girl into the corps. This man has traveled with Cassie. He's traveled with Lydia from Brotherband. He knows women are capable. I mentioned not liking his and Jenny's relationship, but like. he even respects her. She's a business woman, she owns her own restaurant. No one can possibly convince me that Gilan doesn't drink his respect-women juice DAILY. It feels out of character for him.

6. Poor Duncan. That's the end of the sentence.

7. Those guards are hysterical. Ah, yes, let's just casually not mention or try to stop the princess sneaking in and out of the castle even though this could end really really badly. Perfect logic.

And yeah that's all I got right now. I'm very excited to see how my opinions so far change! I'll document them here too in case anyone cares. Feel free to reblog with your own RR opinions and the like! I'd love to see what you guys think of my takes lol

[wily-one24]

What tropes do you like writing best? What fic are you most proud of that you’ve written? What is one piece of advice you would give about writing?

Wow, what great questions @eoangstlover56, thank you.

What tropes do I like writing best?

Hmm, good question. I do like alliteration. A bit of antanaclasis. Similes are always good. Synesthesia and Tautology often pop up in my writing as well.

I do get the feeling that you're asking more about thematic tropes, though... and in that sense...

I tend to enjoy writing the angst. One major theme that has run across my writing is recovery from trauma, specifically (if you are familiar with the Veronica Mars fandom) recovery from rape. But honestly, any trauma will do.

It flows through most of my writing, even those that do not specifically focus on the trauma itself, there is always hints of it, references... more specifically acknowledgement of said trauma in the actions of my characters and how it has shaped them.

You're probably more familiar with my SVU fics, so you wouldn't have seen any other type of fic from me. But even in my smut fics or humour fics, I at least give a nod to what has formed a character.

What fic am I most proud of writing?

Gah. Make me choose between my children, why don't you?

It can't be done!

There are a few that will remain especially dear, for many reasons.

Wicked Game is the most recent, and this is because it was the first time I had written in years. A rather lengthy bout of depression and withdrawal from online space. This was definitely a dip in the pool to see if I could still do it. And it GREW. It became something solid and meaningful. I was honestly sure barely anyone would see and/or like it. Because i was coming in as an unknown to a fairly well established fandom. With what could easily have been a bad and/or unpopular idea. I really like how it turned out, how it circled back on some themes.

Molasses and Taffy from the VM fandom, what started out (and you can see it very clearly) as a very quick post episode short fic... turned into this massive epic that completely blew apart a bunch of emotional themes that should have absolutely been explored in the show, but were not. Something that bridges us from the devastation of the rooftop at the end of Season Two, to the happy twirling in the hallway. Delving deep into the actual trauma and facing it by writing several devastated teenagers stuck in a room with a really unwise amount of alcohol. And LETTING THE SHIT HIT THE FAN.

It was awesome.

The ever controversial Paint It Black. from Once Upon a Time.. this fic will remain high on my list of faves, for being there at a state when I really began to embrace my sexuality (despte the hatred I got for it) and play in the f/f sandbox. Plus, (and let's all be surprised here), DARK. Again, a fic that started off with a very bad idea, that while exploring the darkness in the bad idea... really began to examine the characters and what made them who they are and how they react to stress. Take one (almost?) Evil Queen and have her take the hero (ish?) as an unwilling slave? But then let's get those stubborn people who like to ignore their feelings to actually be forced to face up to them and what it means about them and how their pasts have shaped who they are.

Whether or not people like these fics, that's up to them. These are fics that *I* like.

One piece of advice I would give about writing?

To actually do it.

It sounds simple and obvious, but it's true. You cannot know what will come out until you just start writing. The pictures are very pretty in your head and the story complete, but it's not doing anyone any good if you don't share it.

Also, as shown in the three fics mentioned above, but also in a lot of my fics... it starts out as an idea, maybe even one scene or theme that you want to explore and the writing makes you consider so many different aspects... just... really get in there and look at it from all angles.

So start writing, keep writing, write it bad, write it cringe, but write it. Read over it. Change a few things. Leave it. Come back to it. Get those thoughts out. Shine them up. Let your brain run free.

And things will begin to take shape.

[parkersbliss]

hey could i request a kaz fic with prompts: 001, 007 and 041? pleasee let it end in fluff i can’t bare angst after your last fic lol <3

yes ofc ofc, kaz fluff for you

Dead Man | K. Brekker

prompts: 001: “Why do you care?” 007: “Give me one good reason.” 041: “I cant stand the sight of you in someone else’s arms!”

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

Kaz wasn’t a jealous person. That’s what he tells himself, but he believes it’s far from true. Then again, he didn’t have to believe it to be true. He seems to lie to himself a lot. He’s also noticed he seems to lie a lot more when you’re involved.

His favorite lie would have to be, I’m not in love with (Y/N). He definitely was.

But Kaz Brekker was too prideful to ever admit that. Being in love gave you a weakness, and Kaz was not weak. Far from it, actually. He was the most feared man in Ketterdam. There was a reason he was successful, and that was simply because he didn’t have a weakness.

Well, a weakness that people knew about.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jesper asked, casting a sideways glance at you.

Kaz rolls his eyes, slamming his hands down on the table. “Unless you have a better one, I suggest you shut up.”

Jesper opens his mouth to object, but he shakes his head and shuts up.

Good, he knows better.

“Looking good is a Jesper talent, isn’t it?”

Jesper straightens his back and his jacket, brushing his thumb against his lip. “Why yes, it is.”

“Then I don’t see the problem. You just have to do it with (Y/N).”

You nod, bumping shoulders with the Zemeni boy. “Yeah, we could be a great power couple.”

Jesper laughs nervously, looking at Kaz and seeing the slightest hint of murder in his eyes. There was nothing wrong with the plan except the part where Jesper has to play your boyfriend when Kaz has the biggest crush on you known to man. Jesper knew better than to get in his way. He would really prefer to keep his life than get his head chopped off with a single look.

“You both know your target?” Kaz asked.

You and Jesper nod.

“Good. Get in, get the info and get out. No gambling and no drinking.” He points an accusing finger at Jesper. “I don’t think I have to explain that to you, (Y/N). Any objections?”

Jesper shakily raises his hand. “Yes, so why can’t you go as (Y/N)’s boyfriend?”

Inej looks to Jesper with raised eyebrows. “Are you serious right now?”

“I just think that they would make a more convincing couple!”

“Jesper,” Kaz said lowly, and he knows he’s in for it. “When I say you’re posing as (Y/N)’s boyfriend, you are posing as her boyfriend. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Jesper squeaks.

Kaz pulls back, slapping his cane on the ground and leaning his hands on it. When Jesper doesn’t move, he rolls his eyes, “Well, get to it!”

“Right!” Jesper said, scrambling to get out of the room.

“He seems awfully nervous,” You said.

“I’ll go check on him,” Inej said, passing by you with a smile.

That leaves you and Kaz.

“You were a bit harsh on him, don’t you think?” You asked.

Kaz shrugs. “Not really. It’s Jesper.”

“I think you scared the poor boy half to death.”

Kaz raises a single brow at you. “I don’t see an issue. He still has half to go.”

You let out a soft chuckle, and Kaz swears his heart stops for just a moment. He could listen to it forever.

“Is there a reason you’re so adamant about him being my fake boyfriend?”

“He’s the best choice.”

“Right.”

“You beg to differ?”

You shake your head, “Not at all.”

Kaz knows you did, but he doesn’t say anything. “You should get ready.”

You nod, “Yeah, I should. I’ll see you after, boss.”

…

“Wow,” Jesper said, offering his arm to you. “You look dazzling.”

“I learn from the best,” You wink, looping your arm through his.

Kaz’s lips are pursed into a straight line, and Jesper will be grateful when he’s out of his sight and range.

“Inej and I will be across the street. You know what to do if it goes south.”

“Sure do, Boss,” Jesper replied, eager to leave.

Kaz nods, stepping back, and you both enter the club. He leads you towards the bar and takes a seat. You stand next to him, scanning the crowd for the target.

“Put your arm around my waist,” You hiss to Jesper when you spot him.

“I don’t know about that,” Jesper laughed nervously.

“Jesper.”

“Okay!”

He slips an arm around your waist, nervously looking around to ensure Kaz can’t see. When he’s sure he’s safe, he relaxes a bit more. Everything goes smooth as you wait for your target to come over. You didn’t want to lure him in case that made you both more suspicious. It takes longer than both of you want, but eventually, he makes it to the only open seat in the bar; the one next to you.

He orders a few shots and Jesper makes the first move. “Rough night?”

He groans. “You have no idea.”

“Try me.”

“I’m Archer,” The target said, but of course, you already knew that. He was working for a Mercher, who rumor had it - recently imported something worth millions. Kaz wanted to know what it was and if it was worth it.

“Roman,” Jesper grinned, sticking out a hand.

“And what about this pretty lady?”

You gave him your fake name with a smile as you shuffle closer to Jesper.

“Boss is treating me like shit,” Archer groans, taking a shot. Jesper offers to pay for more. The tipsier he got, the more he would spill. “We got this new import the other week, been on high security since. Doubled my hours, didn’t double my pay.”

“New import? What could be so valuable?”

Archer shrugs. “I have no idea. Not allowed to tell, anyway. Sorry bud.”

“That’s a damn shame.”

Archer leans in, alcohol evident in his breath and you almost choke. “Between you and me, I think it’s some new weapon from Novyi Zem.”

There it was.

Jesper raises his brows. “Do you know what kind?”

“Some kind of gun, or guns.”

Jesper leans back. “Huh. I assume he keeps them in the back.”

Archer shakes his head. “No, he’s too cautious with this. He keeps in the vault in the basement.”

“A vault? Must be worth a lot.”

“Top security clearance. He has it scan his eyes, then his fingerprint and a password to get in.”

“My god,” Jesper laughed. “That’s a lot.”

Archer takes another shot. “You’re telling me.”

You don’t say much, playing the part of dumb arm candy. Your eyes wander the club when you spot a familiar face. He’s walking towards you.

You take a deep breath, turning your head to Jesper. You lean in to whisper, “We got someone coming towards us. He knows us. We need to hide.”

“How?”

“Kiss me.”

“You are out of your mind,” Jesper hisses. God, if Kaz found out, he would be dead in seconds.

“It’s that or death. I promise I don’t bite.”

“Are you two okay?” Archer asked.

Jesper coughs, pushing you off. “Yes, the misses it just eager to get home.”

Archer nods. “I see. I should get going too.”

Jesper lets him. You already got enough information.

“Jesper,” You whisper, tugging on his coat.

He was a dead man either way.

He grabs your face, kissing you with his eyes closed. It doesn’t mean anything to either of you. It’s just the difference between life and death for now. He can see the person leave out of the corner of his eyes. He’s about to pull back when a cane slams the bar floor. Jesper jumps back.

He is so dead.

Kaz's eyes blaze with something much more than rage, and Jesper doesn’t doubt it’s for him.

“Kaz,” you breathe out.

“We’re done here.”

Jesper stands up from the bar, letting go of you. “Yes, we are.”

He practically runs out of there, leaving you with a very pissed-off Kaz.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

He ignores you and walks away.

“Kaz?” You shout, catching up with him.

“What?” He snaps, never looking at you as you walk back to the slat. Jesper was gone, probably hiding somewhere. Inej was covering for him, but Kaz pays no mind.

“We got the information. Why are you so mad?”

Kaz throws open the door to his office, standing behind his desk and finally looking up. “You want to know why I’m so mad?”

“Yes!”

“Because you kissed Jesper!”

“What?” You asked. You couldn’t understand why he was so mad about that. He was the one who assigned him as your partner. “Why do you care?”

It’s not meant to come off rude, you just didn’t understand.

Kaz purses his lips and looks the other way. He can’t bring himself to say why; he won’t admit his weakness.

“Give me one good reason,” You beg. “I’m not mad at you, Kaz. I just don’t underst-”

“I can’t stand the sight of you in someone else’s arms!”

That’s not what you expected. However, it makes your stomach do flips. You swallow the butterflies.

“Then why did you partner Jesper and me together?” You asked softly.

Kaz sighs, “I thought I could prove to myself that I wasn’t in love with you by seeing you with him.”

You snort. “And how did that work out?”

“It didn’t.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

Kaz can hear the mischief in your voice. He’s expecting rejection, but you sound happy.

“I think I’m going to admit that I’m in love with you,” he said, turning back around to face you.

“Well, that’s good,” You grin, grabbing his coat and pulling him the slightest bit closer. He doesn’t pull away. “Cause I’m in love with you too.”

[parvulous-writings]

Kung Lao SFW alphabet

Warnings: None.

Notes: Because I’ve read almost every Kung Lao fic on here and I am still not sated. Requests are still being worked on, I just needed this.  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Kung Lao tends to joke around a lot. He’ll tell some lighthearted jokes just to see you laugh; he loves your laugh, so much.  He also really likes cuddles/hugs- when appropriate of course.  Also also, loves picking flowers for you, and weaving them into your hair or putting them behind your ear. 

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

He’s definitely the comedic friend, first and foremost. He’d try and crack a joke at all but the most serious subjects, and more often than not, it works, and at least gets a few chuckles. 

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He does indeed like to cuddle. Mostly in bed, or just laying down in general. 

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

When everything is said and done, he probably would very much like to settle down. He’s pretty good at cooking- egg rolls are his specialty. 

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d try and let you down gently. He doesn’t want you to be aching over his departure- and he’d probably only really leave with good reason- he just wants you to understand. 

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)

He’s not afraid of commitment, but he doesn’t see marriage as a necessity. 

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

In everyday life, he’s fairly gentle. There are times when he needs to be more firm- such as during training or disagreements, and he won’t hesitate to get firmer with you in these situations. 

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

He loves hugs just as much as he loves cuddles. 

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

It takes a little while, but it doesn’t take forever. He’ll wait for a nice moment between the pair of you. 

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

He doesn’t overly get that jealous- unless it involves Liu Kang.  He gets pretty grumpy when he’s jealous, though he tries to play it off through sarcasm. 

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He likes to kiss you on your cheeks, shoulders, your hands. Almost anywhere he can.  He likes to be kissed on the corners of his mouth, or his forehead. 

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

He’s actually really good around kids! He’s a pretty good role model, though it may take him a while to decide on whether he wants kids of his own. 

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

Despite what Kung Lao claiming to be a morning person, he very much is not. He’ll do practically anything to get you to stay in bed with him a little while longer. 

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

He tends to pull close to all nighters- which probably explains why he is so slow to get up in the morning. 

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

He doesn’t open up directly unless it’s late at night. If it’s not late at night, it’s usually through brags or slightly wild stories. 

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He does have patience, that I can say. Perhaps not as much as Liu Kang, but it’s certainly more than most to say the very least. 

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

He actually remembers almost everything that you tell him. Sometimes he might get the order of events wrong, or forget a date, but he’ll remember the gist. 

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

Eating at the table together. He shared some of his food with you, and carefully fed it to you. He liked that very much. 

S - Security (How protective are they?)

He knows you can handle yourself in most situations, but he will not hesitate to step in if he can see something is too much for you. 

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

He puts a lot of effort in- occasionally he has to run errands for Lord Raiden that can take him all over the globe for weeks or even months at a time, so he knows he’s got to make every second count. 

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

He tends to snore. He also eats with his mouth slightly open.  And the bragging. There’s a fair bit of that, unfortunately. 

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He is well aware he looks good, but it isn’t really one of his priorities. 

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. He doesn’t like spending time away from you- his errands are almost a form of torture. 

X - Xtra (Random HC)

He helps you weave flower chains for him to wear- like around his hat. It’s not practical, sure, but he enjoys the sentiment nonetheless. 

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

He’s not particularly fussy, partner wise.

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)

Sleeps like a log when he eventually settles down for the night. Almost nothing can wake him. 

[leahseclipse]

Unexpected visit

“Could you do a one-shot about Spencer and y/n aka his secret long term gf. They have a baby together and Spencer hasn't told the team for security reasons and one day y/n passes by the BAU when returming from a baby check up or smth and she goes to see him (with the baby), completely forgetting that they don't know anything and the baby (who can talk a little) calls him dada in front of everyone and the team is just left in shock. And just pure chaos ensues (aka everyone loving the baby genius)”

Requested by: @enchantedthoughts​

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None that I can think of, just cute dad!spencer

Summary: Spencer and his girlfriend had a child together that stayed a secret for security reasons; but when the reader happens to go to the bureau one day, the visit, supposed to be casual, turns into a surprising revelation that no one expected.

Word count: 1.8 k 

A/N: AAAAA TYSM- It’s like, my very very first request, and I was so excited the day I went into my inbox to see that ;;;;;;;- you have no idea how happy u made me by sending me a request- I hope that you'll like it,, I currently don’t have a child and never took care of one, so excuse me for the mistakes I've did for the behaviour and stuff,,,

(The fic hasn't been checked over so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes.)

When their daughter was born, they didn’t quite expect what had followed next. It was really difficult, but, the only complication that was to be taken into account was to not let anything slip out about her.

As much as Spencer wanted to, he couldn’t mention her at work, after both him and y/n had discussed the possible risks. Of course, the possibility of them occurring are not frequent, but not impossible as Spencer insisted during the chat they’ve had.

He had thought that it would be better to keep her as a secret for security reasons after witnessing what had happened around him; whether with people he was close with, or people he’d encounter with during cases, or at work.

On y/n’s side, she only happened to be working part-time at a small café, she’d mainly take orders and eventually clean, but she wasn’t very close with them, and had her daughter before she began working there, so whether she had let them know or not, nothing much would have changed.

Even though her job wasn’t as dangerous and totally not the same as Spencer’s, it also was preferable not to say anything else, she just decided not to inform her colleagues either.

At first, keeping the secret wasn’t as easy as they’d thought, but the only thing that they both wanted was to keep her safe, and it if meant that they couldn’t share it, especially for Spencer, as his team was as his family, they had to do with it, their child’s safety would go first.

They had managed to keep up with both their works and personal lives; Spencer would often have to take calls where no one could hear nor see him so he could see her.

It really was surprising to see him with a different phone, his old phone wasn’t the one to be usually seen, but he couldn’t resist to see her.

Spencer happened to be less at home than y/n, so video calls were a solution to be with her, in a way.

After that, the sudden change eventually had to be explained, as he wasn’t the kind to even touch a computer usually.

They had wished that the phone would be the only explanation to do, but Spencer’s work had decided otherwise.

Spencer didn’t seem to find excuses that would be seen as serious, or even understandable when the time to step aside for having time with his family when she was born had come.

It had eventually went well, really. More than expected.

Even if he couldn’t be home as he wanted to after he had to go back to work full-time, he really appreciated the little time he’d have with them.

He really didn’t expect all of this to happen at all just a few years ago, but he couldn’t wish for better now.

Both appreciated being with their daughter everyday, they’d get to discover more and more about her and enjoyed every moment they’d spend all together.

She had even begun talking a bit, sometimes some blabbering, or even fairly understandable words; like ‘dada’ or ‘mama’ recently, along with many others, including some invented ones.

They have been amazed by the number of stuff she’d learn each day, and couldn’t wait to see more.

Unfortunately, it’d have to wait.

She had a couple of appointments scheduled to see how she was doing, and happened to have one today, so ‘admiration time’ would have to wait.

Luckily, the appointment was on one of y/n’s days off, which could be attended without having to look for someone to cover her shift, or for Spencer to excuse himself if he didn’t happen to be on a case.

As expected, it didn’t take much time and she wasn’t fuzzy or anything, she was really calm for once, it really wasn’t surprising. She was usually calm in general and wouldn’t cause much problems.

But now that the appointment was done, she didn’t happen to have much on her schedule, and she could either go home or take a walk with her.

The weather seemed nice...ish, but she wasn’t so sure. She could, perhaps...pretend that Spencer forgot something, and go to his work?

That seemed like a good idea, and totally what she wanted to do.

Y/N had first decided to make a quick trip back to the apartment to catch some stuff she’d probably need, before heading to the car towards the bureau, it didn’t take much, just about twenty minutes, and plus, her daughter happened to be a bit sleepy, which was quite nice instead of having her cry the whole ride.

She had never come here at all, only walked by it or saw it when she happened to drive by, but never had she actually stepped inside.

She didn’t even know where to go, and even find where the hell Spencer could be, the only information she’d had was that he could possibly be at the 6th floor, somewhere in a room with desks.

Wow, very helpful.

The desks are literally EVERYWHERE.

She didn’t know what any of them looked like, she had only heard from them, and if Spencer showed her pictures of them, that must have been a while ago, because she barely remembers a single one.

That’s when she began to ask herself what the hell she was doing here.

How was she going to do, if literally, no one knew her, and, now that she realises, isn’t really supposed to be here.

She probably...got herself into a mess. Probably.

Y/N had swore that the universe was against her, because just when she had stepped in the ‘room with desks’, a couple of voices could be heard from the small staircase leading to a corridor.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice asked, which seemed a bit...nervous as well.

She tried her best not to let too much emotions show on her face, as she was literally around at least...eight profilers.

“Dada!” The child that she held in her arms yelled, as she pointed at Spencer.

Definitely screwed.

It’s over.

“Did that child just call him dad, or did I misheard it?” A blonde woman -probably JJ- asked, looking around as if she looked for approbation.

“You didn’t misheard it.” They all said.

In the meantime, y/n and Spencer just looked in the void, definitely realising that the secret they had tried to keep had just exposed them.

They wouldn’t have thought once that their own child would expose them.

“I think we may own everyone here an explanation, no?” Y/N hesitantly asked, looking at Spencer as if he could make the situation less worse than it already was.

“...we do.” Spencer answered, walking up to where his girlfriend was.

“For how long have you been hiding this beautiful girl and that cutie…?”

“Uh...I’ve been with her for...almost four years, and she’s going to be two soon.” Spencer answered, looking at Penelope. “You guys are really worrying me, is something wrong?”

“No, it’s just that...we’re, really, really, surprised. Especially for the child.”

“Yeah, it uh...mainly was for security reasons, for both of them. It if wasn’t for that, you guys would have already known.”

“At least uh...you know me, and I know you guys.” Y/N said, trying to break the silence.

“It’s really wow...she has Spence’s eyes too.” JJ told, a small smile on her face.

“She’s way too cute, no wonder why she’s so beautiful, look at her parents.” Penelope gestured at the couple.

“You really did hide them from us for a while.” One of the men said, as y/n just looked in confusion. “Oh, I’m uh, Matt.”

“Y/N. It’s uh…a bit overwhelming, there’s a lot of people I don’t know. I know names, but not which name to put on who’s face.

“It wasn’t...planned.” Spencer joined, pulling her close to reassure her.

"It's ok, don't worry. It won't change anything, we love you as much as we loved you before, we're happy to know that everything is going well with your small family."

"Yeah, I was aware of that, I've heard a lot of good stuff about everyone, I was just afraid. It's been a while since we got together, and had her, so it sure was surprising to know that your genius had a small family without anyone knowing." Y/N said, looking down at the small girl in her arms.

"It sure wasn't easy. I've had to find an excuse for whatever family member when I needed to take care of her. At least, I don't have to create an excuse about an imaginary aunt anymore." Spencer admitted.

"And also, if uh…we do have another one, you won't have to find a super difficult excuse, that time."

"Oh, yeah...that."

"That, yeah. I've had her before I began working, so I didn't have explanations to do. Now uh...am I supposed to let them know?"

"If you want to. It's already too late here. Our own child exposed us, even, if it was a bit too late to get out of that mess from the moment everyone saw her. Hm?"

"A...bit too late. But, as she was great today, we can excuse her."

"Mhm. We can." Spencer agreed, as he looked at the people around along with y/n.

"So, everything's good?" Y/N asked.

"Of course! We're not upset or anything, it was just surprising at first. But now that I know about you two, you don't imagine the number of gifts and attention you're about to get." Penelope clearly did everyone else know that she wouldn't take her attention off them for a while.

"I can imagine. She's going to have a lot of aunts and uncles now that she has everyone here, she's going to be so spoiled." Y/N joked.

"You have no idea." A black haired woman said, she probably was Emily.

"Do you have time right now? You could stay for a bit, we don't have much to do." Spencer asked Y/N, to which she was quick to answer by nodding.

"Yeah, I am. Plus, after that, I don't think that I would get to go home before answering a million questions." Y/N said, trying to not look more stressed that she already was.

"Yay! We get to spend more with them!" Garcia said, visibly excited at the idea.

Even though nothing of that was planned to happen for a while, it went well overall. Of course, they would have preferred to wait a bit more, but they can't do much now.

The positive point is that she'll get to talk about her freely now, especially with his co-workers now that they know.

They've all been surprised, but very welcoming. They all reassured her and she really liked their presence.

Y/N really knew what Spencer meant when he considered them as family, they really were as a real one, and now, she gets to be a part of it along with their daughter.

The unexpected visit turned out to be a surprising revelation, that again, surprisingly turned out into a joyful mess.

---

Tags: @homoose ;

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Kissing / Making Out HC’s

Pairing: Kaminari x reader

Warnings: Just a ton of kissing, making out, and mentions of groping (I talk about boobs, uh oh). Still gender/sex neutral

Author’s Note:

Almost didn't have anything ready for this week, but this one only took me a few hours to write up, so here you go! This may end up being my Valentines Day fic. Idk, we’ll see. I haven’t been feeling well lately :/

Enjoy

-Sugar

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● I think this goes without saying, but

● Denki is an absolute s u c k e r for kisses

● As soon as you get together, he wants them constantly

● And who are you to deny him?

● He really doesn't mind PDA (he kinda likes it, actually, getting to show off that he has an s/o)

● So, unless you're uncomfortable with it, he'll kiss you no matter where you are or who you're with (especially around his friends)

● But as I said, if you're not interested, he'll respect that

● It just means he gets to love on you more when you're finally alone together!

● Kaminari loves your lips. Big or small, soft or dry, he's staring at them from across the room, just thinking about when he can kiss them again

● Boy is devoted to you, you don't leave his mind

● After he started dating you, Denki applies lip balm religiously

● He usually goes with vanilla flavors, but he also likes fruity ones

● And he makes special note of what you like. If he knows you'll be kissing soon, he'll pull out your favorite chapstick of his just to make sure he's extra tasty for you

● His 👏 lips 👏 are 👏 so 👏 soft 👏

● Every now and then they'll get a little chapped, but he's pretty good about exfoliating them when they do

● He wants to make sure you have the best kissing experience with him at all times, so he stays on top of things

● Not only does Denki like receiving kisses, he likes giving them as well

● Cheek kisses are his go-to. If you were to keep track, I'd say he'd give you a cheek kiss at least fifteen times a day, if he's around you that much

● Morning kisses, hello kisses, goodbye kisses—a lot of them end up on your cheeks

● But he also loves kissing your nose! He sees those as more intimate kisses, so usually he saves them for when you're cuddling together

● He just loves the way your face scrunches up in a grin when he does it >w<

● He loves to smother your face with little pecks, and he especially likes to tease you by kissing anywhere but your mouth until you get frustrated

● But he doesn't have that much self-control, so he may just kiss your lips soon enough anyway, if you're patient

● You can expect him to prelude a ton of kisses with either a joke or a pick up line. He thinks he’s being smooth (he’s really not), but he loves seeing you happy and giggling

● He also likes to zap you jus a teeny bit here and there. Never enough to hurt (he'd cry if he ever hurt you), but just enough to surprise you

● Sometimes he accidentally static-shocks you when you kiss, especially right after he used his quirk, so that can sting a bit. He always apologizes when it happens and offers you more kisses

● He likes sweet kisses, especially the ones during or right after dates, where he just gets to close his eyes and let the world fall away into nothing but your warm lips. He likes wrapping his hands around your waist to pull you close, and tilt your chin so he can get the perfect angle on your mouth

● Sometimes he smiles and giggles while you're kissing, and that can make it a little difficult to stay on his lips. But it's so darn cute, you have no intentions of ever telling him to stop

● He loves making out with you. So much

● He likes to “set the scene” if he has time, but it’s usually just dimming the lights a little (he's not above making out to music tho, so if you're interested, he'll be happy to deliver)

● But just having you in your or his room with him, on the bed with you on his lap, kissing you slow for all you're worth—

● Fantastic, easily one of his favorite parts of the relationship

● And he likes the hungry kisses too, where he pins you to the mattress (or you pin him; he's into both 👀) and it's all just sloppy tongue and teeth

● 😞👌

● If you allow it, his hands will be all over your body

● If you possess boobs (no matter the size), he's touching them

● With permission ofc

● I headcanon him to be a boob/chest guy (I mean, he loves all of you, but come on. Boobs. Need I say more?)

● Buuuut, he's also touching your butt. Homeboy's a groper

● He likes to grab handfuls of you wherever they may wander, squeezing your warm flesh around his fingers

● You may have to tell him at first not to do it so hard

● He's a hornee boi, so he likes to make out with you a few times a week. If you have to miss a couple of sessions, he'll get grumpy and you'll have to make it up to him (with extra kissies, ofc)

● If you were to pin him to the wall and passionately kiss him, he'd probably die from how hot he found it. Or he’d just short-circuit

● Any time you kiss him, he'll melt

● He loves kissing you, but there's something a little extra special about when it’s you initiating

● It makes him feel so loved, even if you just walk up to him and peck his forehead

● It's important to him not only that he loves you, but that you love him back just as much. That's what makes him go 🥺🥺

● He simps for one person and one person only now, and it's you

● Extra: He draws fanart of you and him kissing in his free time 👀 just little doodles in the margins of his notebooks. Aizawa always makes a face whenever Denki accidentally leaves one on his homework but otherwise doesn’t say anything

The overhead light is turned off, a screensaver on his monitor providing a soft glow to the bed opposite in the room. You're seated comfortably on his lap, his hands lightly resting on your ass.

He starts with simple pecks on your lips, each one lingering longer against your skin, heavier in pressure. He's soft but moist, warm underneath where his saliva had cooled in the temperature of the room. An electricity seems to dance between you, and you're not sure if it's just your imagination or if he really is using his quirk.

Finally his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and you grant him access. Your fingers lace through his hair, displacing the black lightning bolt that had been shaped so perfectly among the golden-blond strands. His tongue comes into contact with yours, touching and licking before securing itself behind your teeth. You're drawn even closer to him, locked in a wet embrace as his hands squeeze.

He could never get enough of you, enough of this feeling. He was obsessed with the way his heart still pounded in his chest, obsessed with the way fireworks went off in his stomach no matter how many times he'd done this before. All it took was a touch, a kiss, a squeeze, and he was gone. In moments like these, you were the only thing that mattered. Not his failures, not his inadequacies, not the stress of school. Just you, and only you.

One of his hands moved to cup your cheek, keeping you close while the other slid down your thigh. He released your lips, only to come back for more more more, desperate to show you how much he loved you, how badly he needed you. A whimper escaped him, swallowed by the kiss but present nonetheless. You answered in your own pretty little moan, fingers alighting on the base of his skull to pull him ever forward into you.

He could stay here forever, drowning in your taste, your touch, your scent. What harm would it be?

Kaminari picked you up, turning you over and laying you down softly onto his bed. He quickly loomed over you, supported by an arm on either side of your head as he dove in for another kiss.

Forever was a long time, so maybe he'd start with tonight.

His thumb traced along your cheekbone, lips still pushing and pulling against yours. He loved the way you caged his hips in with your thighs, keeping him in place. Loved how your hands softly rested by your head on his pillow.

He paused, suddenly realizing just how lightheaded he was. Reluctantly, he pulled back for air, chest expanding and contracting with each soft breath. 

You were under him. He was so thankful it was you. He'd never witnessed a person so beautiful—never experienced lips so addictive, so kissable. You were intoxicating, the way your shining eyes locked with his as your own hand came up to trace his face.

Even in the low light, he could make out every feature he loved—from your nose to your cheeks to your chin, nothing escaped his gaze.

"I love you," you whispered to him, and just like every other time you said it, he knew it was true.

"I love you too," he whispered back, because that was also true. How couldn't it be?

He kissed you once more before shifting to his side, pulling you into his arms where he knew you'd be safe and warm.

'I love you' hummed through his every nerve as he showered your skin with his love—your forehead, your nose, your cheeks. All of it perfection in his eyes, and he wished nothing would change.

You nestled into his neck, your hot skin brushing over his own.

"Sleepy?" he asked, rubbing your back.

He felt you nod, and he couldn't help but smile. Burying his nose in your hair, he inhaled your scent. It was nights like these when he truly knew what the word 'comfort' meant, since he felt it to the very marrow of his bones.

Absolutely nothing could compare to the way it felt to have you fall asleep in his arms. Your breaths began to even out as his hands continued to wander, intent on caressing you and worshiping every inch of skin he was able to touch.

Even before he pulled the blanket over your shoulders, you were warm. Drifting off to sleep in his arms, his lips still lazily pressing kisses to your hair, you felt content.

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Taglist: @aahilovetheatre @basicaegyo @hyunmin-1404 @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars​ @sendhelpimstupid @sxngwoos-ash-box @xoxopam4​

[hermannsthumb]

you should totally do something with ksci janitor’s vamp newt it’s so just so good

i sure will! in a vampire mood this weekend. @k-sci-janitor's vampire newt found here. warnings for quick mention of drinking, allusions to sexy stuff, and also the different kind of drinking you'd expect from a vampire fic (tho on the vague side)

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

The circumstances that led Newt down the unwitting path of immortality and general un-dead-ness are, in hindsight, honestly kind of embarrassing. It'd be one thing if he could say it happened in the pursuit of, like, knowledge, like the fierce jellyfish sting scar on his wrist leftover from a research expedition when he was twenty-two or the equally fierce one on his knee received in response to his question (at the age of five) of what would happen if I jumped out of this very tall tree?, or even something unrelated to his extensive biology career, something impressive, y'know, Van Helsing style, something like tracking down some vampire king and barely escaping with his life (un-life?)—not what really happened, which was little more than a bad date. And not even the worst date that Newt's been on, if you can believe it.

Newt was young and stupid then. He still is young and stupid, technically, though the former by appearance only. (Eternally pushing thirty. If he could've picked, he would've done twenty-eight, just before his handful of grey hairs started cropping up. Newt's had almost forty-five years of staring in the mirror at those four fucking grey hairs. He gave up dyeing them around the nineties. Not worth it. Still annoying.) He liked to do what young and stupid people did, like get stupid tattoos, and have a stupid haircut, and get drunk at stupid punk shows and not stumble home until he'd had at least one regrettable hook-up with a stranger and maybe lost his wallet. (The two were often related.) That particular thing was what did him in that night. It was a different time back then, man—if a dude showed even the slightest inkling that he ran in Newt's sort of circle, if you caught his drift, Newt fucking jumped at the chance.

(The band was on their second set of the evening and Newt had already screamed himself hoarse with singing along. He'd ducked outside in a back alleyway for only a second to get some fresh air, the club suddenly too hot and smokey for him to handle, and was just about to go back inside and close out his tab for the night when he realized he wasn't alone. There was someone—he was sure—lurking in the shadows a few feet away. He could hear breathing. He could see—eyes, maybe, in the dim neon light of the bar sign overhead. "Hello?" he'd called.

"Have a light?" the person called back.

They emerged from the shadows, and Newt felt himself relax at once. It was some spooky-looking guy he remembered seeing in the club, leather jacket, boots heavier than Newt's, dark hair and eyeliner. Tall. Newt remembered him, firstly, because he thought he was hot, and secondly, because he swore he caught the guy staring at him at least three times, and to Newt, that was as good as any pick-up line. He was wagging an unlit cigarette at Newt now. He was taller than Newt thought he was back in the bar—much taller, at least a full head on Newt. His eyes were a golden-brown, almost yellow, like a cat's, and Newt found himself unable to tear his own away from them. "L—light?" Newt echoed.

The guy stuck the cigarette in his mouth and arched a perfect eyebrow. Newt didn't smoke, but he did keep a lighter on him for occasions like this. He fumbled through his pockets for it while the guy stepped closer. "I was watching you," he told Newt, while Newt raised the lighter to the cigarette, "in there."

The flame danced and glinted against his eyes. Newt swallowed. "Uh-huh?" he said.

He flicked the lighter shut, leaving them both bathed in nothing but pink neon. A hand slid up against the wall next to Newt's right shoulder. Another plucked at the left lapel of his jacket. Newt was still staring at those eyes. "What's your name?" the guy said, in a puff of cigarette smoke.

"Um." Newt's leather jacket was being pushed off his shoulders. He felt his long hair being tucked to the side of his neck. All at once something seemed in snap in Newt—some reminder of where he was, and what he came here hoping for in the first place. Some hot dude was eyeing Newt up all night long, and now he was actually coming onto Newt, and Newt was about to get laid. He grinned. "Newt," he said. "Just call me that. You were watching me, huh?"

"All night," the guy said.

Newt's jacket hit the ground with a soft thump. A knee was being pushed between his. Newt felt his cheeks heat up a little—he wasn't used to people being this forward with him, and especially not in a semi-public place like this. Usually they at least made a show of offering up their apartment first. "What, um, what for?" he said.

They were kissing. Newt was clinging to the back of his jacket. And then he was kissing Newt's neck, and then he was—

"That kinda hurts," Newt mumbled. "Um, dude, I think your—your fuckin', tongue piercing cut me, or something. It's—"

It was hard to keep his eyes open. His neck felt weird. The guy was into biting, apparently, biting really hard, and yikes, that was going to leave a super embarrassing hickey that Newt would have to explain to his students somehow on Monday, but it also felt really good, like, Newt was maybe getting off kinda good, and Newt thought, dizzily, that he should at least return the favor before he finished up and collapsed in a happy heap on the ground. So he did.

The guy pulled back with a hiss. "Ow. What—?"

Newt tasted something coppery in his mouth, and he panicked and swallowed on instinct. "Oh, shit, dude, I'm sorry," he slurred. His voice sounded like it was a million miles away. "I was trying to be—sexy. Um." There was blood on the guy's chin. He was staring at Newt in something akin to horror. Dark circles were spotting Newt's vision. "I think you cut your lip," he said, and then he passed out.

Newt was alone when he woke up. It was still dark, too. He walked the two miles home, collapsing in bed, fully-clothed, just before dawn, and he didn't wake up again until sunset. He forgot his jacket, but at least he remembered his wallet this time.)

So, anyway, Newt thinks he can be forgiven if he...embellishes stuff a little when, for the first time in his whole long life, he finally spills the details to someone. Also, no way is he admitting the truth to Hermann of all people.

"There were a bunch of murders in the area at the time," he says, while Hermann, angled on his side next to him in bed, watches him raptly. It's kind of weird pillow talk, but their pillow talk rarely isn't weird. Usually Hermann will launch into a critique of Newt's latest pet theory before Newt's even caught his breath. At least he very courteously waited for Newt get a glass of water from the bathroom first this time. "Really brutal ones. Like, throats torn out, blood drained. Really nasty shit. Everyone was saying they were some kinda bizarre wolf pack attacks, but I knew better."

"Of course you did," Hermann says, running his hand down Newt's chest, and Newt can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not. (He has a feeling he is.)

"You bet," Newt says. "It took me months of, um, super hard research. Finally I hunted him down to this—" Newt debates the coolest lair possible of a vampire, and then remembers Lost Boys, which, even though he resents it slightly for totally stealing the vampire vibes he was going for, is still a kick-ass movie. "—this weird cave, where he lived. The king of the vampires. I won, obviously, but he fought back, and he managed to infect me just before I hammered the, um, the wooden stake into his heart."

"So courageous," Hermann says. He reaches up and tucks a piece of Newt's long hair back. Hermann being totally cool with the whole vampire thing, and maybe even possibly into the whole vampire thing, is probably the last thing in the world Newt expected from him. They're no strangers to hooking up during long late nights of science, but Newt swears it's gotten more frequent. "You must've been terrified."

"Nah," Newt says, though he remembers the glint of the flame off those yellow eyes, and he shivers. Hermann notices; his eyes, not yellow, but a warm shade of brown that makes Newt feel like he's being wrapped in a blanket, soften. If Newt could still blush, he would. "I'm—um—I'm pretty brave."

Newt hadn't exactly been planning on telling Hermann about the whole thing, but (last week) he had the very unfortunate timing of beginning a late-night dinner just as an oblivious Hermann strolled back into the lab to pick up his forgotten pair of glasses. To his credit, he only freaked out a little when he saw Newt draining a blood bag like a fucking Capri-Sun, and even then (after what felt like ten years of horrible, horrible silence) all he said was "You're the one who's been stealing those from medical?"

Look. Newt hasn't drank from a human being the entirety of his un-life, and he doesn't plan on it any time soon. He's...a vegetarian. Effectively. It's sort of the reason he picked up a medical degree along the way once he got tired of breaking into blood banks. Even if it's still a little ethically dubious to steal blood like that, at least he's not swooping around on unsuspecting people like that—goth asshole who swooped in on him did. (Newt's never managed to find out who he was—he suspects he was some sort of vampire drifter in town that night just to find a victim. And Newt just had to think with his dick at the worst possible time.)

Hermann tucks another strand of Newt's hair back. Newt also did not expect how fast Hermann became cool with the whole thing, but on the other hand, giant aliens are clawing their way out of the ocean on a bi-monthly basis these days. It's hard to be skeptical about most things. ("Well, it does make logical sense," Hermann had said with an eyeroll. "When you consider some of your rather more bizarre quirks, I mean. I ought to have guessed it ages ago. I suppose that's why you have that awful haircut," and that stung, because yeah, Newt hasn't felt like changing it up since the seventies, and why should he, it kinda rules? but he just laughed it off and said, "You're one to fucking talk, dude!") "Newton," Hermann says now, gently, "what actually happened?"

Newt sighs. Hermann always knows when he's lying about shit. "I was making out with a vampire in an alleyway and then he bit me. And—um—I kinda didn't notice at first, 'cause it felt... good."

"Mm," Hermann says. The corner of his mouth twitches up. "That's more along the lines of what I expected. That, or you were hounding him for details like a proper biologist and he got tired of answering your inane questions."

"Very funny," Newt says. "Ha."

Hermann rolls away from him and stretches his arms above his head. Newt watches his throat work as he yawns, swallowing down a sudden lump in his own, and he feels a surge of something hot and—alien—in the pit of his stomach. "Over forty years," Hermann says. He picks up Newt's discarded sweatshirt from the floor and tugs it down over his head. "You must get terrifically lonely."

Newt half-shrugs. "I guess. I'm kinda used to it by now." His dad (who never brought up how Newt's aging seemed to be at a standstill when they saw each other, not once) is long-gone. Newt's tried dating, but no one's ever seemed to be into it as much as he is—and besides, it's not like he could ever do the actual til death do us part thing unless he went against every ethical bone in his body and made someone like him. When the internet became a thing, he considered making a forum or something to find more of his kind, but the thought everyone just being like the guy who accidentally turned him in the first place terrified him and he killed the page before it even left infancy. So, without any better ideas, Newt forged some paperwork and leaned pretty hard into the world of academia to fill up his sad little hole of a heart, resigned himself to casual flings with anyone who seemed interested, and it mostly worked. Mostly. And then the kaiju came along, and then so did... "You make it a little bit better," he confesses.

Hermann lays back down next to him. "I do?" he says.

Newt thinks he sees something like that hot, hungry feeling he felt in his stomach flash behind Hermann's eyes. He nods.

Hermann suddenly kisses Newt, pulling him down on top of him, and then tugs the collar of Newt's stolen sweatshirt down below his collarbone. He drags Newt's hand up to press against his throat. Newt feels the erratic beat of Hermann's pulse beneath his fingertips, his heart pounding against his ribcage (pressed up against Newt's silent one), and he almost moans. "Have you ever...?" Hermann murmurs, gazing up at Newt through his dark eyelashes.

"N—never," Newt stammers. "I told you."

"Do you want to?" Hermann says. Newt tries not to gape. "Just a bit at a time, whenever you need. You wouldn't have to steal those silly blood bags anymore. And—" He hesitates. "I admit I am curious. About the sensation."

"Um," Newt says. "I—"

He feels something sharp poking his lower lip. Fangs. His fangs. Oh, shit, he's never had that happen before. He forces himself off of Hermann before he does something stupid.

"Maybe, um, maybe later?" he squeaks, while Hermann just smiles at him.

[sailorhyunjinz]

𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘 𝐈𝐈

© 2021 SailorHyunjinz ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Pairing; Bartender!Changbin x Fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warning ; ANGST!!! SMUT!! skz side characters, semi-slow burn, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, depiction of mental disorders, consumption of alcohol, tobacco use, dysfunctional families, mentions of undereating, vague hints to eating d-sorders mentions of crimes, mentions of blades, fainting, mentions of dr-g use, arguments, mentions of savior complex, mentions of childhood neglect, depiction of depression, mentions of needles, mentions of blades, yelling, mentions of hangover, parental issues (lmao cherry just say daddy issues), arguments

𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 ; PIV, unprotected sex, hair pulling, drooling, getting caught, masturbation, fingering, clitoral stimulation, orgasm (f). 

(fic header made by @yjeongs! thank u cora <33) 

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 10.0 k 

From one survivor to another; cheers you guys. 

O N E ｜ T W O

                        ⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ Playlist ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Drugs N Hella Melodies - Don Toliver, Kali Uchis

Life is a Bi... - Bibi 

cigarette and condom - Bibi 

Empty Trash - LØREN 

Noir - Sunmi 

NEED - LØREN

Pretty Boy - The Neighbourhood

(hint hint look at the lyrics <33)

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 ; 𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐚

Three months.

Three months of booze, questionable substances, friends and most importantly. 

Him.

Seo Changbin. 

You never knew you could feel this deep about someone, there hadn’t been a reason earlier in your life since everyone in it either used you or abused you. But you knew he was different from the first time you saw him that night in the dark room, injured and surrounded by 7 other boys that were now your closest friends. Why would anyone ever want to leave this place? There was everything! Free drinks, ear-deafening music and your boyfriend. This was heaven for a hurt soul like you, so why would anyone search for an exit in this box of traitors? 

“O-oh fuck! Changbin!” you cried out as the momentum of his thrusts made you jolt forward, hands desperately trying to grab onto the black leather of the sofa you and him had made love on countless times, the door always being unlocked since there wasn’t a lock and this damn parallel universe wasn’t gonna install one anytime soon. 

Changbin grabbed your hair, twisting it around his hand as he pounded into you from the back, the supple valleys of your ass wobbling with each movement. Your voice became frail, stuttering and moaning his name in broken syllables along many other pleas and swearwords, the way your words became incoherent the longer he fucked you made his head lull backwards, pure music to his ears unlike that shitty music that blasted through the speakers on the dancefloor that was just next to the tiny dark room that was currently filled with the scent of sex and lust. Your head was tilted up, eyes tightly shut as you clenched around Changbin’s leaking cock that was jackhammering into your wet cunt, his dick glistening with your slick every time his hips moved away from you and reflected in the minimal light of the room. He grunted as all kinds of lewd sounds were heard from you, the skin slapping against each other and the squelching noise of your pussy being filled with his cock. His hands had a tight grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as the pleasure surged through every nerve of his body, sweat beading around on his temples. Your arms could barely hold you up, quivering and risking to collapse under you causing you to put your head towards the seat, warm cheek against the slightly cold leather. With your back fully arched your ass perked up, Changbin hitting exactly the right place in this position, a small stream of drool hanging from the corner of your swollen lips. You were so close to your release, hanging on by a thread to not tip over the edge and be sent spiraling down an earth shaking orgasm. 

“C-changbin, I’m gonna f-fucking cum” you stutter, reaching your hands backwards to which he let go of your hair and instead grabbed your wrists, holding you in place and pushing you down onto his cock. Your voice was no longer a whimper but instead a scream, goosebumps erupting on your soft skin as you panted, Changbin viciously thrusting inside you and being fueled by your pleasured sounds, he got off by the fact that you felt good. You were so close. So close.

“QUICK!! FELIX FUCKING FAINTED” Jisung said, bursting through the door but immedietly regretting his decision as he yelled out into the room that was now filled with your yelp and the loud club music from outside. 

“For fuck sake Jisung! Knock!” Changbin growled at the boy, you trying to grab your clothes off the floor and desperately covering yourself as Jisung stod in the doorway with panicked eyes, flailing his arms around in an anxious state. He was more appalled by seeing Felix passed out than he was seeing Changbin fucking you from behind. 

“NO TIME FOR KNOCKING, JUST FUCKING MOVE” he said, signaling his hands to follow him. In a haste you put on your clothes that weren’t much more than a skirt and a tight shirt, oh and of course your sexy panties, you had leveled up from your previous looks that made you look like a distressed mother of 4. Now you knew when you were gonna pass out and you even teleported in the phonebooth instead of injuring your head against the wall as you fainted. Changbin did the same, putting on only his pants as he ran after Jisung, you following shortly after, scared about what you were gonna witness.

The main dance floor looked like it usually did. People high, drunk or both, dancing and singing their hearts out, falling over and tumbling down on the floor. The whole place reeked of straight liquor and the music was loud enough for anyone to go deaf. You held Changbin’s hand as he dragged you through the crowd, not letting his eyes go from Jisung’s figure that was leading the both of you to the back end of the club, pushing through people and muttering small apologies that couldn’t be heard by even yourself. When you got to the end of the big place you saw Felix, his back and head against the table as he was completely knocked out, his legs dangling from the end of the rectangular table. You climbed on top of the soft seatings of the booth, putting your cheek near his nose and mouth. You didn’t hear if he was breathing but you were assured as you felt his cold breath against your hot flesh, sighing in relief. 

“How is he?!” Jisung yelled, “is he dying?”

You shook your head, grabbing his limp wrist and putting your pointer and middle finger on the underside of his limb, his veins not visible in the dark lighting of the club. His pulse was stable, beating faintly. 

“He’ll be alright!” you yelled back, the concerned gazes of the other boys standing around the boy exhaling as they heard your words, Changbin going closer to Felix and putting his hand on his shoulder, shaking the boy and repeating his name over and over again but to no avail. Seungmin rubbed the palm of his hand against his exposed forehead as his hair was pushed back.

“I’ll stay here with him, Changbin fetch me a water bottle and,,, wait,,, why did he even faint in the first place?” he asked, the boys looking at each other until they landed on Jisung that looked distressed, his pinkish lips quivering. 

“Probably a nice concoction of no food and only alcohol” he said, peering down at his black boots, his hair flopping onto his face, too shy to meet the gazes of his friends as if he had done something wrong himself. Seungmin could only sigh, you patting Jisung on the back as you walked through the jumping crowd again, the song changing as you heard Seungmin say “get him something Changbin”, their voices fading into the beat as you walked with Jisung behind you. 

Jisung slammed the door as you two were back in the room that had only moments earlier been filled with helpless whimpers and pleas. You threw yourself on the wrinkly couch, looking away in shyness when remembering that Jisung had caught the two of you even if everyone knew that you guys fucked in that very same room whenever there was time and Changbin wasn’t standing in the bar. The young boy sat down on the dark floor, leaning his elbow against the seat of the sofa as his twinkling eyes met yours. 

“I,,, just don’t understand” he said, you tilting your head in wonder as he uttered those words.

“Don’t understand what Sungie?” you said, the walls almost vibrating from the bass of the song from outside. He sighed as he momentarily looked away from you. 

“Felix,,, like it’s so clear that he needs help, just over the last few months his cheeks have sunken in and his eyes are completely matte and lifeless” he said, his voice trembling as a lump of tears was stuck in his throat. 

“But aren’t you the same Jisung? You need help too, help to stop thinking that everyone is your responsibility. I understand that you want to help him,,, but you carrying everyone's emotional baggage has landed you here. Felix will get help by those that are capable of getting him that help, you aren’t Jisung.”

His eyes shot up at you, dark as his eyebrows furrowed, his jaw clenching in anger. He felt attacked, commenting on his actions usually made him feel offended. 

“I am capable of helping him. What about you then huh? You can’t even help your own boyfriend” he snarked, running his hand over his hair in frustration. You rolled your eyes at him, watching him as he bit the inside of his cheek. He needed to do that, he couldn’t tell you the fact that one day your boyfriend is just gonna disappear since he’s actually taking matters into his own hands and getting help. 

“Don’t say that Jisung, we both try our best,,, let’s not fight over something we can’t control” you say, your voice getting frail by the end of the sentence.

“Can’t control? We can, we can help each other!” he said, banging the palm of his hand against the warm leather of the couch, making you jump in fear. You dropped down on your knees, your eyes being on the same level as his as you looked at him, the young boy diverting his gaze immediately.

“Jisung, look at me.” You grabbed his other hand that was resting in his lap against the rough material of his jeans. “We try, that’s the best we can do. Change comes from within. Nobody can save us if we don’t save ourselves.” Jisung sighed loudly, swallowing harshly, the both of you flinching when somebody burst through the black door. Changbin was carrying Felix on his back, the male still passed out on his broad shoulders. Your boyfriend looked puzzled at the scene before him. His girlfriend holding hands with one of his closest friends, sitting close enough to feel his breath against her cheek, both looking like two helpless deers caught in headlights. He furrowed his eyebrows as he walked into the room, throwing Felix off his shoulder and positioning him into a semi-prone position in order to open the airways. You and Jisung stood up, looking at the blonde boy and how his eyelashes layed gently against his lower eyelid. Changbin looked at Felix for a while before turning to you with a serious expression. 

“So,,, what happened here?” he said to which you shrugged.

“Me and Jisung just talked,,, about Felix” you answered, Changbin uttering a little “oh” as his previous rather unfaithful suspicions were proven to be false. “There’s no need to worry, he’s breathing so he won’t be in any medical danger as of right now but somebody needs to keep an eye on him,,, in case something changes.” You smiled at him talking.

“Alright doctor Changbin” you said while giggling, hugging him and him wrapping his sturdy arms around you, looking at Jisung’s mellow expression, eyes brimming with tears as he sat down on his knees on the floor once again, pushing a lock of hair from Felix’s delicate face, cupping his cheek that was once plump but now gaunt. Changbin pulled away from your comforting embrace and patted Jisung on the shoulder, bending his knees to get closer to him. 

“Do you wanna keep an eye on him, Ji?” he asked to which the boy nodded, not answering with words, not even a gaze at the male that was talking to him. He turned around to look at you, pointing his chin towards the door, signaling for the two of you to get out and leave the two boys alone to which you nodded, following Changbin out and gently closing the door behind you by turning the knob and releasing it slowly. The music got louder and louder as you two walked in the long corridor before ending up on the main floor, the corridor going to the bar and you could only get onto the dance floor by exciting through the wooden gate of the bar. 

“I’ll go find the others, you should work!!” you yelled through the music and Changbin nodded, giving you a kiss on the lips before you exited through the gate, being careful to knock any of the liquor bottles on the walls over and causing a ruckus like you’d done once before, being black-out drunk and trying to hobble your way through to god knows where, accidentally swinging your arms towards the shelfs. Luckily everything restores itself in this universe.

People were doing their usual activities in all corners of the club, making out against a wall or jumping, spilling their drinks on the floor that Changbin would have to mop up afterwards when he steps in the sticky liquid that pressed up against ones shoe. It was impossible to see who was who in the dark room, the neon lights on the roof changing colors but not making it easier for you, especially not with the commotion around you, individuals bumping into each other. In the distance you saw a hand waving, a familiar hand that was decked out in maybe a thousand silver rings, all with intricate designs that could only be seen from up close. Next thing you see is Hyunjin jumping, the bedazzled hand belonging to the long haired blonde male that always made sure to use the most expensive perfume. You made your way over to him, the male smiling brightly as he sat down on the edge of the cubical sofa, the other males being around the table that Felix was lying unconscious on just a brief moment earlier. The table was filled with half empty beer bottles along with red glimmering packs of cigarettes that belonged to some of them. Hyunjin patted the seat next to him, scooting closer to Jeongin that was ruffling his slightly sweaty hair, putting the bottle green top against his lip and taking a sip, his adam's apple moving as he swallowed. 

Hyunjin was different, different from anyone else in this place. You’d expect him to have the best life imaginable due to his family background. His father was the CEO of an influential business and his mother being his fathers assistant, both living a lavish life and providing for their only son, Hyunjin. But no amount of wealth can buy happiness. You don’t know the entire story but what you have heard when he was drunk and barely able to speak is that he was bullied all throughout school, struggling with the pressure being put on him by his parents to become a businessman just like his father. It ate Hyunjin alive to everyday go to sleep and feel like a failure that wasn’t able to live up to his parents expectations. He wasn’t worth this lifestyle he thought as he mindlessly doodled on the edge of his college application papers, it was easier to end it. He felt like a coward, always taking the easy way out but that’s how he’d lived his entire life. Getting help wasn’t an option, it would bring shame upon the family if anyone found out that he went to therapy and besides, his family didn’t believe in mental illnesses, it was simply to “go on a run” to feel better. “Then why the fuck am I not feeling better? I’ve ran miles but my mind runs faster” he wrote in the small black notebook he kept in his bedside table, hiding it together with his cigarettes under piles of papers and books. That’s how he ended up here, being together in a little group consisting of Chan and Minho along with some other people that had already departed from the place he felt the safest. 

You gave a smile to Hyunjin, grabbing the beer bottle in front of him, earning a little “hey!” from him but you drank it anyway as you laughed at his reaction, the bitterness spreading throughout your mouth. You exhaled, putting the bottle down harshly, the loud sound being drowned out by the music. Hyunjin laughed along with you, he seemed kinda distant, his pupils dilated. With furrowed eyebrows you looked at the other boys that looked back at you in a confused manner. 

“Something wrong y/n?” Seungmin asked, his cheeks slightly red from the heat that was radiating off everybody in the room, the tension heightening the temperature. Your eyes landed on Minho who looked equally as dazed as Hyunjin, looking up at the ceiling as the crown of his head rested against the dark walls in an uncomfortable manner. 

“You guys definitely did something” you said to which Hyunjin laughed, now stealing Minho’s drink since he was completely immersed at how the colors changed. 

“Of course we did,,, if we were gonna do it, why not here?” he said, looking at you through hooded eyes, his gaze sharp as pin needles, the black smudged eyeliner around his eyes not making it easier to escape the way you drowned in them. It was true, here was the place where you could be yourself, do whatever you pleased and act reckless as long as you didn’t hurt anybody, a rule Minho found difficult. It’s not that he wanted to hurt people, it’s just that he couldn’t help himself. Something bad was gonna happen if he didn’t. So that’s what the switchblade was for, not to hurt anyone but just in case he needed to add another felony to his list. You didn’t even wanna know what substances that ran through his veins but you felt bad for him. He was a slave to his own thoughts, sometimes even his own actions. He had no other choice but to obey them, do everything that the voices whispered faintly into his ear, a serenade of revenge to everyone that has never believed in him, considered him a shame and neglected him. No, not him. His inner child. 

Seungmin grabbed the red carton of cigarettes, the crimson wrapper unfolding itself when he opened the lid and grabbed one of the deathsticks whose orange ends were looking up at him. He picked one up, putting it to his lips and patting down his sides in search for a lighter but to no avail. He sighed out of the corner of his mouth, gesturing towards Hyunjin by flicking his pointer finger upwards, the blonde boy reaching over to his pocket and retrieving a white lighter that he put on the glossy mahogany table and scooted across it, Seungmin grabbing it as it nearly fell to his feet. He thanked Hyunjin by lazily saluting with two fingers before igniting the cigarette, the deep purple fading out into a light orange at the tip of the flame, the smoke evaporating around Seungmin as he puffed, exhaling straight ahead of him, poor Jeongin beside him coughing. 

“What’s even the purpose of these?” Jeongin said, grabbing the packet and examining it closely, twisting and turning the small box.

“What’s the purpose of your life?” Seungmin answered with an evil laugh, you wanting to bend over the table and smack him across the face for talking like that to the youngest. Jeongin shrugged his shoulders, smirking at Seungmin.

“Touchè I guess” he said, a smile hiding his pain. “Can I get one?” he said as he nudged Seungmin on the shoulder, the boy already taking his second puff. Seungmin didn’t answer, simply placing the cigarettes and Hyunjin’s white lighter in front of him. You stared at Seungmin in disbelief for a moment before throwing yourself over Hyunjin’s lap, grabbing the two objects and clutching them tightly in your hand. Hyunjin flinched at the sudden commotion, all the boy’s eyes were on you, tilting their heads like confused puppies. 

“Don’t you even dare Yang Jeongin” you said, him looking at you with twinkling innocent eyes. He nodded and you turned your head back to Seungmin. “And you, no actually all of you, quit it” you said, a moment of silence flew by before all of them bursted out in laughter.

“fucking,,, tell that to your boyfriend first” Minho said, him finally awake from his trance “if you manage to get him to stop then we’re all with you y/n” he said, laughing, his two front teeth poking out like a rabbit. You sighed, looking at the four boys but noticing Chan was missing. 

“Where’s Chan?” you asked, Seungmin shrugging as he exhaled grey smoke again.

“He hasn’t arrived yet,, don’t know what he’s up to” he answered, putting the orange end to his plump lips, pink in color but this being impossible to see in the changing neon lighting. “I wonder how Lixie is doing,,,” he added with a sigh. Good you hoped, the last three months have been nothing but a downward spiral to hell for the boy, everyday the gleam from his eyes got duller and duller until they were matte with fatigue. You remember a distinct moment that happened in the first couple of weeks in the club, you still getting to know the peculiar characters that moved around in this place. Felix was sitting in the bar, you sitting right next to him, the whole conversation was difficult to hear due to the music and chatter from people but you guys made do. 

“You know that song? By Radiohead?” he said. You shrugged and shook your head.

“Which one?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink that was unfortunately made by another bartender, Changbin not being there yet. 

“That one where they sing ‘I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul’” he said with a giggle, grabbing his glass and taking a swig of the poison in his glass, decorated with lemons and limes. You laughed with him, not knowing what he meant, thinking he was just spewing random words at you from being intoxicated. 

“Yeah, what about it?” you said, the young boy’s smile fading away as he gulped, placing down the drink. 

“I don’t know,,, I often listen to it on the bus or home alone,,, it tells me something but I can’t place my finger on what exactly” he said with a loud sigh, resting his cheek on his hand that was bent against the dark wooden bar. 

“Isn’t it the lyrics?” you said, “the fact that you want to be perfect in every way?” Felix hummed for a minute before nodding his head slowly. 

“It’s not even that I want to be perfect because that’s what society taught me,,, it’s because I live in a false reality where I believe that people will love me and appreciate me more if i tweak everything” he blurted out, going silent and sipping his drink slowly. 

“I’m happy that you know that it’s false but,,, what’s stopping you?” you asked, looking at the boy whose eyes were gazing at the wooden stick inside his drink, stirring it over and over again. 

“Because,,, if I stop,,, I won’t be sick enough” 

The both of you got silent after he remarked those words. Felix got silent because he thought he’d said something wrong. You got silent because you knew how that felt, that someone was going through your struggles. 

“You don’t prove anything by that Felix. I k-know this is gonna sound stupid and you’ve heard it so many times but,,, just know that I love you no matter how you look. I’m happy that you’re here Lixie” 

You looked at him and his dark brown eyes met yours, glittering once again, rounded as if he’d heard the best news of his life. He opened his arms and you stood up on the floor, hugging him and squeezing him by the sides.

“I’m happy that you are here too y/n” he whispered in your ear, barely audible from the loud bumping of the music. You pulled off the hug and shimmied up the bar stool again, putting the transparent glass edge to your lips and feeling the liquor trickle down your throat. 

“I was thinking of getting those words tattooed on me but now that I think about it, I want those words tattooed on me but with a big red x over it.” You smiled together with him, his dimples being carved into those freckled cheeks along with his bleak eyeshadow, his lips a cherry tint. 

“You should.”

“Oh fuck-” you cursed as you woke up on your living room floor that was covered in dust and crumbs that was a trail all the way to the kitchen. You sighed every time you were back in reality, in the cursed world that wanted nothing else but to crush you under its fingertips. A patter was heard from outside, gentle raindrops decorating your windows as they were falling from the dusky skies. The rain was at least better you thought, in the sun you felt immense guilt for not being as happy as everyone around you, scrolling through your phone and seeing pictures of old classmates on trips and drinking out in the basking sun, wearing sundresses and hats. Being picturesque.

You made your own fun. Late wine nights and therapy appointments early in the morning where you get drilled with information that you could actually use to get better but you decide to cancel it all out. It was impossible to take in. Or maybe you wanted this now? Like Felix said, you wanted to remain sick enough even if there is no such thing. It used to be about not wanting to leave your comfort zone as odd as it sounds. You had struggled with your mental health for as long as you could remember and getting better would mean that you would have to make active changes in your life that at the moment didn’t seem appealing. But now it wasn’t about that. It was about Changbin. Getting better would mean that you would have to leave him, not only him but all the other friends you made at the club for the last months. They felt closer than family especially since you’d barely had one in the past. You wanted to stay by Changbin for forever but did you want to suffer for just as long?

Little did you know, Changbin didn’t. 

You stood up from the wooden floorboards, stepping closer to the balcony door and seeing the rain cover the streets, lonesome people walking with umbrellas and rain jackets through the storm, probably on their way home to a delicious home cooked meal, a comfortable bed and a stable mind. You only had one of those things but you, in contrast from before the club, didn’t get jealous when you saw those people down at the rainy street. You had your own happiness that was Changbin.

Every time you said his name your heart started racing, your knees almost bent underneath you as you walked back to the couch, no lights turned on in the entire odorous apartment. With a thump you fell with your back against the comforting material, once again being swallowed by a fort of pillows and clothes that you haven’t been bothered to put away. The tv display stood blank, your silhouette reflecting in the matte sheen of the screen, your face almost hanging low with boredom. What was there to do when you weren’t in Changbin’s secure arms? 

It was as if his name rolled off your tongue. Smooth as butter, sweet as syrup. You closed your eyes, eyelashes fluttering against your cheek, tickling the sensitive skin on your face. Underneath your lids pictures flashed by in bright colors, not from imagination but from memory. The pictures radiated their energy through your entire body, sending shivers down to the tips of your toes as you saw the faces of your best friends and boyfriend, their smiles creating red apples on their cheeks. 

You wondered how many of those smiles were fake. 

A wave of arousal shot through your body as remembered the events that took place before Jisung had a chance to ruin them, how Changbin grunted next to your ear, his hot breath teasing the shell of your ear as he whispered, the movements of his hips going from rolling to pounding, the room filling with the lewd noises of skin slapping against each other accompanied with your tiny whimpers, pleading him to make you cum. You couldn’t help but to rub your legs together, shifting in the grey sofa that was decorating your trash pile of a living room, the other decor pieces being empty bottles and white used tissues that were tiny houses to your tears. You peeked down quickly, seeing that you were still in your party clothes that consisted of a shirt and a short skirt that was sitting kinda lopsided on the base of your hips, hugging your skin tightly. With a rapid hand you removed the garment by unzipping it by the side, kicking the fabric towards the end of the couch with your feet that were bare, you managed to toss your sneakers away whilst you were deep in your imaginations. Except for the bright colors in your mind, the rest of the apartment was dark, not a single light being switched on. Your light source for many of your lonesome nights were the grey poles on which a bulbous light hung, a so-called street light. The blue cold light shone inside, deep dark shadows being casted on the walls by the trees that decorated the sidewalk. 

Lines started to blur between the real and the fake, not sure if you actually felt Changbin’s hands wrapped around your neck or if it was just yet another illusion your mind has decided to put forward. You could feel the warmth from his hands surging down your neck, soothing your heart in a comforting way. It was as if you were being held in a way that made your blood run south, loved and aroused at the same time. It was as if a ball of warmth bubbled inside you, encapsulating you in its aura of happiness and distraction, your hand teasing the the skin on your lower abdomen before it plunged beneath the small pair of cotton panties that had been violently pulled off by your boyfriend some time ago, exactly how much was something you couldn’t tell, the universe simply didn’t allow time. 

Time is an arrow. 

It always goes forward. 

Under the thin elastic your fingers started moving on their own, like they knew what to do, almost imitating what Changbin had done so many nights prior to this one on that murky couch. You couldn’t help but to wonder if he missed you right this moment. Was was he doing? What was he thinking? You wondered if he thought about you whenever he pleasured himself, if it was your name that echoed in the four empty walls of his broken down apartment whenever he came. The thought of his hand wrapped around his cock as he groaned made you sweat, the skin on the underside your knees sticking to each other as your knees were bent, soles flat against the frowning sofa. Automatically you spread your legs, one resting against the wallpapered surface as the other one hung out from the edge of the sofa. With your middle finger you felt the slippery surface, gathering your slick as you swiped up your finger, coating the sensitive bud in stickiness. You clenched around nothing, thinking about how Changbin whispered his praises in a sweet tone like a serenade.

“You’re doing so well y/n, fuck,,, you’re so pretty princess”

You nodded despite there being no one to see, small whimpers forcing their way out of your throat as two fingers circled your clit, spreading one pussy lip with a third finger, widening the area of contact. Your spine arched at anticipation, a faraway feeling approaching with quick strides as you squirmed your hips, butt digging into couch cushions as your gently pinched your slick-covered clit. Your hole was practically begging for more, velvety walls throbbing for pleasure that you didn’t mind giving, slowly inserting your middle finger, followed by a second finger, hissing at the initial stretch and getting used to the feeling, wiggling your fingers inside just like Changbin always does but his fingers filled you up better accompanied by the small marks he left all over your torso and tits, sucking on your delicate nipples with his wet tongue, leaving a trail of saliva as he licked around the valley of your tits, the ticklish feeling causing you to throw your head back. 

“f-faster binnie” you said into thin air, there being no one to answer your request except your fingers that started going faster in and out of your squelching hole, using your thumb to nudge on your clit, desperately trying to move it in circles and moaning as pleasure built up in the pit of your core. You licked your lips, coating them in a thin sheen of spit, imagining his soft lips pressing up against yours, his tongue coaxing yours as he licked your bottom lip, nibbling on it before slipping it into your mouth, the soft surface meeting yours, a languid kiss being exchanged as he panted into the kiss, you whining gently in between breaths. Your hair stood in a mess as you rubbed your head against the fluffy pillow under you, a couple of stray pieces sticking to your forehead that was covered in a lustre of sweat, reflecting in the small amount of light that was looming in the room together with you. Your mind blurred with lewd scenes with him, curving your fingers inside you in order to reach your g-spot and being startled by your own moan when you did, it simply felt too good, especially when thinking that it was his fingers that plunged into your wetness. 

“Just a little bit more y/n,, o-oh shit,,, f-fuck i’m gonna cum”

His voice ringed in your ears, it didn’t have to be loud to be memorable and make your head spin with pure amativeness. Your fingers started to hurt from how vigorously you were pumping them inside yourself, bringing yourself to the edge as you imagined that it was Changbin’s cock, twitching and begging from release, wishing he would cum inside you and paint your walls in his milky white cum, the hot liquid oozing out of your swollen pussy. Your clit throbbed, your breathing getting uneven between your parted lips, your hand being slightly restricted by the fabric of your underwear. 

“Cum for me baby”

It was an automatic response. Your hips convulsing upwards, high-pitched moans bouncing off the walls as you continued to tease your clit, pulling out your fingers and rubbed the swollen bud up and down into overstimulation until you it hurt, your eyes tightly squeezed, small droplets of tears teasing the corners of your shut orbs. The high washed over you, from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes, every body part rushing with adrenaline before coming down in a state of repose. Slowly you withdrew your hand from beneath the fabric, the elastic snapping gently against your skin, fingertips glistening with your juicy release that now also coated your panties as it rubbed against the inside fabric. You slowly opened your eyes, vision blurry before focusing correctly, seeing nothing but darkness and vague outlines of objects. Night had fallen. You sighed, you were alone.A part of you wished at Changbin had been there whenever your glittering doe-eyes sprung open, your plushy lips being met with his but alas you couldn’t get everything in life.

Except that you couldn’t even get anything. At all.

“Binnie!!!” you shouted as soon as you opened your eyes as you woke up on the floor, looking around confused as your voice echoed in the room. You rubbed your eyes, the familiar automated voice and its words still stuck in your head.

“Uh? Over here y/n”

You heard his voice, the sweet tune hitting your eardrums, you looked at the direction of the sound and noticed that you were lying on the main dance floor. No music. No people. You stood up with wobbly knees, looking around and being shone on by a spotlight on the ceiling, watching Changbin drying off a couple of glasses with a kitchen towel, a brown apron sitting snugly around his waist, another piece of useless fabric that hid his well-sculpted body. 

“W-why is there no one here? Are we glitching again?!” your voice panicked as your gaze was busy, landing everywhere from the meaningless neon green exit sign pointing to nowhere to the colorful transparent liquor bottles on the shelves behind your lover. Changbin let out a little snark as he put the glass down, throwing the cloth over his shoulder and leaning on the wooden bar counter.

“No y/n, sometimes many people are busy and that’s when you don’t teleport here,,, you know that already”

You let out a small “oh” in realization before walking over to the bar and throwing yourself into a chair lazily, tapping the table with your pointer finger twice, a quiet signal for help. The kind that alcohol provided. Changbin didn’t say anything, simply scooping some ice into a low glass with pretty carved out details at the bottom, the black haired boy filling up the glass with whiskey, the brown liquid seeping between the cubes of frozen water. It was oddly silent in the club, not from the fact that there wasn’t anyone else there but there was this awkward feeling between the two of you, as cold as the ice cubes that the champagne bottles were resting inside a iron bucket full of ice underneath the bar on one of the shelves. 

“So uhm,,, was everything alright yesterday?” he asked in a low voice, peering at you through hooded eyelids as he tilted the glass, pouring another liquor bottle and pouring the substance in. 

Memories of the night prior flashed past your eyelids causing you to almost choke on your saliva. Changbin looked at you suspiciously, furrowing his eyebrows as he put the glass on the coaster in front of you, watching you gulp down the poison. He had something on his mind, the words were basically danging off his pink lips but he hesitated, something stopped him every time he tried to open his jaw and let the words pour out in a puddle of word-vomit on the floor. The words were lodged in his throat like a boulder, he didn’t know how to say it.

“Something wrong binnie?” you asked with a confused expression, your eyes filled with concerned. What if something had happened in a universe you couldn’t even reach, the boy wandering alone with his concerns? 

You took another sip from the glass, frowning as the alcohol stung your tongue and descended down your esophagus like a ball of fire, observing the contents that you were drinking partly because you were interested in what concoction your boyfriend had made but mostly cause you didn’t want to look him in the eyes in this frigid atmosphere. He shook his head, giving you a non-verbal answer. 

You didn’t believe him. 

By the way his jaw clenched to the awkward posture as he stared at you, he had something to confess and you weren’t sure if you were ready for it, thinking that maybe it would be easier to not ask about it anymore and live in oblivion. 

“Come on~ I know you well enough to know that something isn’t quite right” you said, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, eyeing your boyfriends godly figure, practically drooling over him on the spot. 

“Hmm,,, y-yeah ok,, I do have something to say but,,, I’m not sure how to” he started, your heart starting to beat faster with each syllable he pronounced, thinking that this was the end of your world because he was indeed your entire world. The reason you still smiled.

“Just say it baby, I won’t be angry” you said but not sure if you could keep your promise. 

“I got a place at rehab” 

You started laughing sarcastically, the boy standing perplexed behind the counter. 

“Wh-what’s so funny?” he asked shortly after. 

“You obviously said no, right?”

Silence erupted throughout the establishment, your smile was wiped off your face as you waited for an answer but you felt the tears start bubbling up in your glossy eyes as the silence went on, brimming and coaxing to fall down onto your warm cheek, his expression was blank, a canvas without a paint. In a rage of fit you threw your glass at the nearest wall, the glass shattering in a million pieces just like your heart, impossible to glue together. 

The ice cubes melted on the floor, liquid splattered on the dark glossy floor. There was no saving the broken pieces, it was simply to throw it in the trash. You couldn’t blame Changbin for being startled, backing to the wall that displayed the bottles of alcohol, small lights above them causing the flasks to reflect tiny fractals.

“What the fuck do you mean Changbin, huh?!” you yelled at him, salty tears streaming down your cheeks, hanging off your quivering lips. He could only exhale loudly from his nose, his dusky complexion losing its color the more stressed he got. 

“No, what do you mean? Are you actually serious about letting me rot in my life and not take help when I’ve finally gotten it?” he said, his tone growing louder with each word, him practically growling like a feral wolf. You couldn’t believe the word coming out of his lying mouth. Rot in his life? Why? He had you now. You were all he needed, right?

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier then?” Your voice was expressionless, a string tinted red with betrayal laced in your tone. 

“I was scared.”You scoffed, feeling the frustration in the pit of your stomach like a heavy weight, tears glittering in the bright lights that were on currently, shining down on you as if another dimension had opened. 

One without Changbin. 

With dark eyes you looked at him, a dumbfounded smile causing the corners of your lips to turn upwards, tasting the salt of your sadness as a droplet rolled down and into your mouth. “

I never want to see you again Changbin”

“Don’t say that y/n, p-please don’t say that.” 

His voice was drowsy like he hadn’t slept in days, your theory being more believable as you saw the dark bags under his blank eyes. He had been worrying, worried for your reaction. He took off the apron and put the kitchen towel on the nearest surface before hurrying to exit out through the gate and took strides towards your standing figure but you distanced yourself every time he got closer. You felt yourself getting smaller and smaller as his shadow towered over you, his face not showing compassion but rather irritation. 

“GET AWAY!!” you screamed in a ear-deafening screech, him barely flinching as he had seen worse things in his life than his heartbroken girlfriend getting pressed up against a wall with dark streaks of makeup and tears staining her face, plagued by treachery that was brought upon by the only one she trusted in her life.

Maybe this was deeper than just your boyfriend leaving you. Maybe this was a silent cry to stay and not leave like your father once did. Sure, he was around in your childhood but that’s the thing; he was around, never actively invested in what happened in the life of his child. You didn’t like to look into it. Hell, you barely wanted to talk about it but you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was the reason as to why you had a difficult time with goodbyes. It replayed memories, memories you’d rather forget. Or wish you never had in the first place. 

“The fuck-” said a recognazible voice that belonged to Minho, the male staggering out of the toilets in a hungover haze, scratching his hair as he yawned.

“Huh,,, how long have you been there?” Changbin said, him turning his head to look at Minho whilst standing mere inches from you, sandwiching you between his body and the dark walls. 

“I have no idea,,, just woke up and heard a scream” he replied lazily, still not really registering the situation that was unfolding in front of his very own eyes. You glared at Changbin before pushing him by the shoulders, thinking you would make a big impact but him only losing his balance for a few seconds, with fierce steps you bolted to Minho, the boy sliding his hand down into his pocket the closer you got causing you to stop dead in the tracks. 

You’d rather be heartbroken than deceased. 

“Did you know about this? Did you know that this motherfucker was going to fucking rehab?!” you yelled hysterically towards the boy that picked up a packet of cigarettes instead of a switchblade. He smirked as he put a cigarette in the corner of his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you for a second throughout the entire process, almost hypnotizing you with his looks. 

“Yeah,,, we all knew” that devilish smirk only signaling that he liked the pain he saw in other people, the white lighter in his hands flicking and emitting an orange and purple flame that slowly burned the tip of the deadly stick. 

You wanted to scream on the top of your lungs, break every single one of the bottles on the shelves in a fit of rage before breaking Changbin’s heart, shatter it in pieces and step on it like glass even if it would make shards stick to your wounded and bloody feet. But that’s life. You can never hurt someone without getting hurt back. 

“And so you all decided to be on his side? To defend a liar was the best your stupid fucking head could come up with?” you couldn’t even filter your words, whatever came to your mind rolled off your tongue as smoothly as the words “i love you” once had. 

“Hey y/n! Don’t say that! He had nothing to do with it” Changbin roared, stepping closer with his heavy black boots that could probably smash someone against the concrete by the telephone booth where thousands of stray souls wandered every hour of the short 24 hours we humans have in a day. He put his hand on your arm but you shoved him away, freeing your hand from his grasp and yelling inaudible words at the boy. 

“And that’s why you don’t date a psycho, am I right Changbin?” Minho laughed, lodging the cigarette between his pointer- and middle finger, blowing the smoke towards you as a careless gesture. Changbin looked done, rolling his eyes at the other boy before shaking his head, his hair bouncing in a fluffy manner as he moved. 

“Not now Min” he answered simply, keeping his composure but you on the other hand were boiling with anger, feeling your heartbeat in your ears. You let out a half laughter filled with sarcasm.

“Somehow the real psycho has the audacity to say that to me, huh? Who the fuck do you guys think you are? You guys think it’s cool to live like this?” you said, your voice becoming frail at the end of your sentence, breaking as new tears weighed on your eyelashes and dropped down on the floor beneath you. 

“No we don’t y/n and that’s why Changbin is getting help. Don’t you see it? You are hurting him by keeping him here.”

Minho’s words stung more than a thousand needles piercing through your raw flesh. 

He was right.

The entire relationship rested on a foundation of suffering that you fed with repeatedly withdrawing from help that could make you blossom into the person you once were. Deep down you knew that this relationship was impossible, you knew it before you even fell for him but the thing is that you didn’t choose to fall in love, it happens. There’s a reason as to why it’s called ‘falling in love’, because once you’ve jumped you can’t expect to stand on the top of the cliff again. Only at the view from halfway down do you realize that maybe this wasn’t the right time and space. 

You looked at Changbin that held his hands out, wanting to hug you and make everything feel alright, like it was before and you couldn’t help but to melt at how his eyes rounded, twinkling by the thousands of lights around the room and reflecting in his teary eyes. With the arm of your sleeve you wiped off the tears, makeup rubbing off on the fabric but you couldn’t give less of a thought before Changbin wrapped his hands around you, tears falling at a rapid pace as you sobbed into the neck of your boyfriend, breathing in his musky scent that infiltrated your bloodstream and made your heart stop for just a brief moment before pounding harder than before, powered by longing. 

“I’m s-sorry Changbin” you said in between sobs, words coming out in broken syllables, it was difficult forming a sentence let alone an apology. Changbin shook his head as he put his hand on the back of your neck, descending down and rubbing your back soothingly.

“Don’t apologize y/n, you didn’t do anything wrong” His voice ran down your spine, the boy pulling away from the hug and holding you by the shoulders, looking deeply into your eyes as he spoke. 

“I love you and I will never forget you”

You nodded, your face in distress with tears and snot, puffy eyes looking back at him. 

“W-when are you leaving t-then?” you asked timidly to which Changbin responded by breaking eye contact.

“In two days.” You sighed, not sure if you should be sad. What kind of partner tells you that important of an announcement just two days prior? But you understood, he was just as scared as you. 

Scared of the unknown. Alcohol had been a part of his life for a long time, it was his comfort and now suddenly he needed to adapt to a life without it, a life in sobriety. You weren’t the only scared one. The both of you heard Minho picking up the shards of glass with his bare hands, throwing it in the trash as he smoked, not even needing to remove the cigarette from between his lips in order to exhale the smoke, grey clouds billowing out of the corner of his mouth and filling the area with the scent of over 70 harmful substances. 

In the distance you heard footsteps coming from the dark room that was pretty much the only private space in the building, Felix and Jisung walking out, their expressions changing from happy to confused upon seeing your face and Minho cleaning up. 

“W-what,,,” Jisung started but Minho put his pointer finger to his lips before removing the cigarette from his lips and mouthing to the younger boys.

“He told her”

Both Jisung and Felix nodded slowly, their eyes big as saucers as they mouthed a small “oh” back before casting a glance at the two of you, two bodies melting in a touch that could be the last one.

“What will I do without you Changbin?” you said, looking down at the ground. He sighed before smiling at you. 

“What you’ve always done y/n,,, fight for yourself because one day you will make it” he said, cupping your cheek in his hand and swiping his thumb across the tears on your cheek, the dampness remaining on the rough pads of his thumb. 

“B-but don’t worry y/n! It’s in two days,,, maybe I’ll be back tomorrow” he said, you seeing that the boys nodded their heads in the corners of your eyes. 

“Alright,,, I’ll trust you,,, I always do”

“You guys can go and I don’t know,,, talk in that other room,,, we’ll take care of stuff out here” Minho said, flicking the ashes off the end of the cigarette one last time before throwing it in the sink, the boy standing in the bar together with the the other two boys. You and Changbin nodded, making your way past them and entering the dark room that had now become a place where only memories live. With hesitance you sat down on the couch, Changbin doing the same. You glanced over at him, slowly tilting your head against his shoulder and exhaling loudly through your nose. 

The momentary silence wasn’t awkward. It was comforting. 

Silence was what this place needed, moments away from everything related to partying and drinking until your liver failed. 

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he said with a laugh, you giggling with him.

“Of course I do, it wasn’t even that long ago but,,, it feels like forever.” 

He nodded, glancing at your hand for a moment before grabbing it, his warm hand wrapping around your cold one, lacing his fingers with yours. 

“I don’t want you to leave binnie,,, t-this is unfair.” Tears started bubbling up in your throat again, your breathing getting unstable as your gaze was fixed on the ground. 

“I don’t want to leave either y/n but,,, what if we meet in the right dimension? What if that’s what happens? That when you,,, start loving yourself for who you are,,, maybe that’s when you meet the one that will continue to heal you?”

Changbin’s words made a lot of sense. Nobody knew what happened to the people that descended to the real world again. What adventures they were on or who they were loving at this point in time so maybe that did happen. It made you smile, your heart filled with hope, something you hadn’t felt since he said those doomed words earlier. You turned to him, his lips lingering dangerously close to yours to the point where you could feel his hot breath brushing up against the apples of your cheeks. He leaned in, attaching his lips on yours one last time, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear and holding you by the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the knuckles of your hand. You kissed him back, slipping your tongue into his mouth in a deep exchange of saliva intertwined with yearning. The kiss formed an even pace, you tilted your head to the side causing the kiss to get intense, his wet tongue gliding against yours, your pout swelling as he bit your bottom lip, blood rushing into it. He could almost feel yours eyelashes fluttering against the bridge of his nose. He pulled away, landing a final peck on your soft lips before nibbling the inside of his cheek in nervosity, unsure as to why he was nervous in the first place. Maybe the thought that he would never kiss you again. You put your hands around him, rubbing your dark tinted cheeks against his shirt that was luckily in a darker color as well. He smelled like home, like comfort.

A murky scent mixed with tobacco and ephemerality.

 You haven't seen Changbin since that day. 

“How have you been y/n?” said the woman sitting opposite you, tapping her pen against the A5 block of secrets that rested against a folder that has your name on the side, filled with results of various psychological tests. You shrugged your shoulders, looking out the window where the ivys growed over the glass.

“I’ve been alright,,, although I miss someone” you answered, your eyes meeting the curious ones of your psychologist that observed your body language, your foot shaking in the air as your legs were folded on top of each other. 

“Who do you miss y/n?” she asked. You thought about telling her the truth but then had you ever done that in this office?

“Doesn’t matter,,, Just someone” you answered shortly to which the lady nodded. 

“Longing is a very difficult feeling, sometimes there’s nothing you can do about it since the only thing that will cure it is seeing that person again but of course, that’s not always possible” she said, you observing the marbled pattern on the vinyl floor. You agreed, not knowing what else to do before she started talking about something else that was connected to your well-being, wondering how you are coping with still being on the hunt for a job and having your mental health to care about in the meanwhile. 

The session ended as it always does. By you walking out of the office with an orange post-it note where the next appointment was scheduled in messy writing and with a warm goodbye to your psychologist that was a nice person. It was just that you didn’t really care for her advice and you yet again felt horrible for not taking the help you got when other people in the world couldn’t afford the same experience. The wind hit you in the face as you exited out to reality, out from the solace of the office and the building that held countless of skin-crawling memories. You pulled your jacket closer to your body, walking with quick strides towards the convenience store in order to buy gum and something sweet that could stop the world from leaving a bitter taste in your mouth at all times. A bell above the door tinkled as you stepped into the store, the grey welcome mat being a soft surface to step on with your sneakers. You casted a glance at the staff, seeing the gum you always bought by the cash register and the back of a young man in a black jacket with a baseball cap, looking upwards at the cigarettes and talking to the cashier in a husky voice. You walked past aisles of various snacks and other necessities, hearing the man talking in a voice that made your head spin, sending you into a deja vu feeling.This voice, this very voice was familiar. 

“That one,, yeah,,, thanks! Oh,, just gonna grab something real quick” he said, his footsteps getting closer to you that were hunched over, looking for the banana milk on the lower shelves and squinting your eyes as tried to look further back to see if you missed a bottle by mistake. Your eyes lit up as you saw it, stretching out your hand but in that moment you didn’t feel the cool plastic layer of the yellow manufactured drink but instead a slightly warm hand that was bigger than yours, clad in a couple of silver rings. You quickly apologized and peered upwards, your eyes landing on a couple of dark hooded eyes that made your heart start to race. The lips were plump, a bit dusky in color from the cold weather. A sharp jaw that led to a prominent chin. A triangular nose that connected to a pair of strong bushy eyebrows. A face you had so longed to see. A hand you hadn’t held in what felt like an eternity. There the two of you were, holding the same bottle of banana milk in the flickering light of the store, the coldness emitting from the refrigerated shelves.

It was him.

It was Changbin. 

He was right. 

Only when one decided to heal was it destined for you to meet in a dimensions that was real. A dimension that didn’t consist of an odd phone number and a crimson telephone booth. A world away from the loud music and booze and instead entering a world that had earlier been dark but now got lighter, your tunnelvision ending and objects getting their color back. The world seemed real again. Alive like the way scent of a rose made its way down your lungs and into your blood, feeding the feeling of love from within.

You met him. 

In a different place, in a different time. But you met the same person.

The person you were destined to meet. 

Taglist ; @minholuvs @liz820​ @skztrashbag @lix-freckle3​ 

[v-thinks-on]

Wanna Know a Writer

Thank you very much to @sparrow-ink for the tag - I love doing these when I get the chance! Incidentally, this is also my 1001st post on Tumblr!

How many works do you have on AO3?

It looks like I have 116 right now, but it will be 117 tomorrow (with a short Batman/Superman fic)

What’s your total AO3 word count?

716,792 apparently... I’ve been writing like crazy lately and I still swear that can’t be right, but there you go

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

It looks like I’ve posted fic for 30 (including crossovers and fusions) and there may be more I haven’t posted, so not listing all of them. You can see the whole list here

Following @sparrow-ink‘s example, I’ll let my filesystem speak for itself:

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Language of Chess has been the undisputed champion for a while (Kirk and Spock flirt using the Vulcan language of chess)

The Old Family Farm is a more recent fic that came up from behind while I wasn’t looking (Clark Kent takes Bruce Wayne to meet his parents)

The Gift Giving Game was my K/S secret santa gift for Herenya_writes (Kirk and Spock stir up rumors as professors at Starfleet Academy)

A Hidden, Personal Thing (Spock offers to mind meld with Kirk)

Human, Vulcan, and Everything in Between (Spock is ace, Kirk is polyamorous, and it works well for them)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to respond to every comment because there’s nothing I like more than talking with people about my writing and the stories that inspire it! I’m more than happy to answer questions on here too, if anyone has any!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

So, these days I’m generally a firm believer in happy endings, but in the pre-AO3 days, I used to mostly write death!fic and a few highlights actually made it onto AO3:

The Death of Spock - Spock dies during the original five-year mission and Kirk is left to pick up the pieces

Only a Fool - Watson dies at Reichenbach and Holmes is left to pick up the pieces

Honorable mention: Devoted - the inevitable tragedy of Mary Watson (nee Morstan)

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

As it turns out, the other thing I used to write is crazy crossovers, many of which were never finished, let alone saw the light of day. I’ve dialed back on it (a little), but here are some highlights:

Spock in Wonderland

Millennium Death Note - currently in progress! (What if Light Yagami solved the Millennium Puzzle?)

The Mysterious Mr. Jeeves - Jeeves and Wooster x Everything, but I think the most outlandish one in there would have to be The Phantom of the Opera

Honorable mention: my old BBC Sherlock x Harry Potter - the writing isn’t great and the plot is a bit of a mess, but it will likely always be my most viewed fic

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Only a little bit and mostly just on FanFiction.net - there was one person offended that my big Star Trek TOS x TNG crossover was “secretly” Kirk/Spock. More often I get people who like most of my fics, but then get annoyed about Kirk being polyamorous or Spock being ace or don’t like how I decided to end something, which isn’t terribly helpful, but could be worse.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Nope, don’t read it, don’t write it, just not for me.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, thankfully.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I’m honored that people want to translate my stories into other languages (and make podfic of them)!

The first three chapters of Devoted (the tragedy of Mary Watson) are available in Chinese

Enough to Drive a Man to Madness (Mycroft puts up with Sherlock Holmes angsting about Dr. Watson) is available in Russian

Once Upon a Dream (Holmes and Watson dance) is available in Russian

The Appearance of Dorian Gray (Bertie Wooster meets Dorian Gray) has a podfic

And I think someone did a podfic of a scene from A Crazy Little Thing Called Love (the progression of Kirk and Spock’s relationship over The Original Series), but I can’t seem to find it right now

What’s your all time favorite ship?

My first and dearest will always be Holmes/Watson from the original Sherlock Holmes stories

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I’ve gotten to be pretty good at finishing things I want to write, but there’s this huge Disney crossover I started writing with a friend that is glorious and complicated and almost 1/3 of the way done despite being over 90k already. Whenever I think about it, I always think that, yes, I will finish it some day, even though my co-author has lost interest, but the truth is probably not... But who knows, maybe I’ll turn around and have it done for next year’s @wipbigbang!

What are your writing strengths?

I’ve discovered a secret talent for finishing what I start, which is nice - a combination of planning and just keeping at it, slow and steady.

I think I do a good job of capturing characters’ voices, whether in dialogue or narration, and it serves me particularly well when I’m trying to imitate a style - I’m especially proud of some of my Jeeves and Wooster. I can also do some nice flowery prose if put my mind to it.

What are your writing weaknesses?

For all of my love of pretty prose, it’s easy for me to forget to describe things, so my writing can end up fairly sparse. I also feel like I could get better at integrating romance and plot - the romance often ends up getting drowned out by everything else going on, which is especially frustrating because I’m usually writing it because of the romance.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

That’s a good question. Probably Death Note (my friends and I used to ship L/Light) - that’s the oldest fic I have on my computer, at least, but I used to write on paper, so there may be something even older there. The first fandom I posted anything for is Harry Potter (a next-gen OC fic about the daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange - it’s best not to ask). I also posted my first Holmes/Watson fic at about the same time (it’s pretty bad, but I tried).

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

I’m actually really happy with a couple of my somewhat recent longer fics:

Generations - my Kirk/Spock Star Trek: Generations fix-it

Bertie Solves a Mystery - Jeeves and Wooster get embroiled in a murder mystery and meet Hercule Poirot and Hastings (also Jeeves has a mysterious backstory)

tagging: I’m going to second @plaudiusplants and tag @the-z-part​ and @marlinspirkhall​ if you’d like to do it, along with anyone else who wants to go for it!

[waynedunlaptheorgandonor]

k i woke up to thirteen unread messages, so let’s just do a fucking blanket text post covering everything so that i can go curl up by the fire with my aus and pussy eating fics in peace, yeah?

spoilers under the cut

hi, yes, hello, i’m still chill and hype

“but diz,” you say into my ask box. “how can you still be hype when kang has clearly demolished everything we’ve worked so hard for?”

because she hasn’t.

“but aren’t you tired of kang doing all this crazy, inconsistent writing? aren’t you sick of her doing everything for the shock value and not being true to the characters?”

sigh.

y’all.

don’t come for my girl like that.

call me delusional if you want, but to me all of this fits perfectly within the same narrative, which has been leading to canon from the day she took the helm. 

i have already done a thousand and one breakdowns as to why carol getting with zeke was caryl-positive, so i’m not gonna go there again, but the leah thing is too.

“but diz--”

shh, i’m still talking. 

picture this: you are a lonely, lonely man who has gone through hell and back, and it took you years to open up to your found family, only for your best friend to explode and the love of your life to go marry a guy who probably worked at medieval times to pay for college, and now you’re all alone in the woods trying to figure out wtf to do with yourself. 

you tell yourself you can keep visiting your niece and her mom now and then, but that kind of sucks bc of the aforementioned best friend exploding, and also you and your niece’s mom had to murder a bunch of small children and that tends to be kind of traumatizing to remember, so it’s not the ideal situation

but at least you still have your girl, even if she is in an indefinite LARP game for the rest of her life. 

but!

then she says, “actually, i can’t come visit you much anymore, what with the whole community, and husband, and child thing,” 

and then you are actually Alone.

and it’s for the first time, because every time before that you at least had your brother, who might have been a piece of shit, but at least he was there. 

so you meet some chick on the road. you’re sad, no longer feel like you have a family (after it took you so long to get one that you actually loved), and you’re more alone than you have ever been, and you meet this chick who is a loner like you, and you’re wary at first. the two of you don’t trust each other, bc you don’t trust easy. but over time you start to build that trust, and she offers you companionship that you are so desperately in need of, and maybe you wouldn’t usually be into it, but given the Literally Everything Else going on, it’s like, why the fuck not? you have N O T H I N G left.

so she gives you an ultimatum--her or what little is left of your family. well, your family is scattered to the wind and being around them only hurts you more, and this person is offering you a chance for something new (and when things get rly bad, hasn’t your go-to move always been to run anyway?) so you say okay. you say you’ll go.

except nvm, she ditched you, lol, you’re all alone again! sucks to suck.

skip ahead, you’re back with your family, and your og girl has dumped the LARPer, and maybe things can be good again, except there’s a bunch of people going full hannibal lecter wearing other people’s faces on their own and murdering everyone, and your og girl is actually insane rn due to years’ worth of unresolved trauma, and you’re suddenly a dad, and you’re being asked to make nice with the guy who literally tortured you, and honestly? it’d be hard enough as is to trust again, but this whole situation is NOT HELPING. 

so by the time the war ends you are tired, and you are hurt, and you are wary, because you keep losing things that matter. and you got back the one person in the world who mattered the most, except she did some super questionable shit, and you’re having a hard time reconciling it, and finally you just Lose It, bc goddamnit, you’ve earned it, mkay? you are entitled to a little blow up. if she gets to literally blow shit up then the least you can do is yell a little, like damn.

but. 

she’s the one person in the world who matters most. a rebound fling over the course of a few months =/= ten years of being soulmates. you’ll forgive her, she’ll forgive you, and the two of you will ride off into the sunset together, almost as if you were suddenly in your own spin-off show. 

what a concept?

/fin/

“alright, but diz--”

OH MY GOD HOW DO YOU STILL HAVE OBJECTIONS?

listen. here is what daryl/leah teaches us:

-daryl is willing and capable of having intimate relationships

-that being said, daryl being in a relationship has been a Big Thing for everyone, regardless of who they ship him with, since s1, so if it was supposed to be The Most Important Relationship Ever to him, the juicy parts would not happen off screen. there’s a reason the sex is only implied. they’re not showing it until it’s the Real Thing

-we now know daryl has had sex in the past ten years, so maybe he’ll actually last more than six seconds when he bones down with carol! very good!

-this also teaches us that hoo buddy, y’all have some mixed morals when it comes to these characters. the “daryl would only be in a relationship if he rly loved them, so how could he possibly love carol still?” thing is like. dude. carol is MARRIED during this, and he doesn’t get to see her much anymore. is he supposed to just walk around jacking it while crying for the rest of his life? the man tried to move on, and the tragic thing is that he got screwed over. i do not think this is out of character at all. i think daryl fell in love with carol, she got married, he was lonely, tried to move on and convince himself he could be happy with this other chick (who might be rly cool, who knows??), and then he got his heart broken again, before it ever really healed to being with. the boy is a giant bleeding heart who is getting stomped on constantly, and y’all better stop yelling at him for trying to feel better or i’ll come for you. this is like carol having rebound sex with zeke. if you want your characters to be realistic then you have to let them do human things, holy shit

this is getting excessive, let’s tie it up.

the main takeaways here are:

-no it’s not out of character

-yes it fits the narrative, kang isn’t just throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks, it all has a purpose, which is why i’m totes fine with it

-leah might not actually die, which thank god, i thought it was douchey of them to kill off another woman for Man Pain. i’m glad i’ve been wrong about her and connie both

-oh yeah, connie...i have no new feelings on connie

-daryl now has sexual stamina, so we can all update our headcanons now

-“i can’t believe they end the episode on such a sore note! their friendship is almost destroyed, how will it ever recover??” ...how are you surprised? that was...that was literally the description of the episode, my dude. that one didn’t exactly come out of left-field. it’ll be okay, they’re gonna make up. hopefully through a bunch of hyperbolically tragic misadventures. it’ll be a good time, calm down

-there is a FUCKING SPIN-OFF coming, how can you think they won’t reconcile?

-actually it’d be super funny if they were just giving each other the silent treatment throughout the entire thing lmfao

-“have you seen that new caryl show?” “yeah, it’s fucking weird. there’s no dialogue??”

-anyway

-does it help if i said i secretly thought they might fuck the whole time, specifically for the reasons stated above, and i’ve been kinda into it since the promo but didn’t say so bc i didn’t want to get hanged? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-idk y’all, that’s all i got. drink up ig?

i just found out that i’m literally anemic, and y’all are still more exhausting than anything else. it’s okay to just like. enjoy things. i promise.

now if you’ll excuse me, i have aus to dive head-first into. i’m not gonna say a whole bunch else about shit unless it gets rly necessary. i think i will make this blog relentlessly positive out of spite, and will just post fics and shippy gifs. i have a photoshop free trial (thatigottomakeaberniememe), mb i’ll make sappy caryl gifs as practice and bombard you all with them. feel free to come by for cheering up, but i’m not gonna repeat myself six thousand times, either

stay hype, STAN KANG, and get daryl to call carol sweetheart 2k21,

-diz

[akaashisupremacy]

Job Wanted: Boyfriend

Summary: Makki is callous w/ his words. After a big fight, he knows he needs to make changes. Can he make things work before it’s too late? 

Notes: Right on time for Hanamki’s birthday!! In the fic it’s his actual bday too lol!! Inspired by hcs about Hanamaki’s toxic traits that lives in my mind rent free!

January Fic List || Masterlist || Read it on Ao3

Hanamaki  x reader  

genre: ANGST, lovers to exes to ??, pining, tw: toxic-ish relationship (wc: 1.9 k)

“It’s not my job to be your boyfriend.” Takahiro Hanamaki mutters with his arms crossed, “Stop trying to police what I have to say!”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. You knew it was over between you two then and there.

You met Makki while working in a soba restaurant. He was charismatic, smart and efficient. Whenever you two were on the same shift, he tried to make the work fun. You both started hanging out after work—indie films in the university theatre, library study sessions, walks home after work. Makki even traded shifts just to see you more often.

All you were asking from him was to be more sensitive. Enough was enough. Sure he liked you and you liked him, but compatibility was a separate thing altogether. He knew you were touchy about comments on your art, your looks and your confidence, but he just didn’t know when to shut up.

“You’re wearing that sweater really?”

“This piece looks okay, like subpar on a good day.”

If he doesn’t want to have to be careful with his words, then  you don’t want to have to be around him. You swiftly grab your things and walk out the door. When it finally sinks into him two seconds later, he stumbles onto the door apologizing. You refuse to hear any of it.

“I didn’t mean it-- ”

But fun hang outs and serious dating are two different things, and the end of your relationship proved just that.

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

Makki tries to apologize to you when he sees you, but nothing seems to work. Eventually he gives in and allows you both to drift apart—he stops catching you in the library and trading shifts, which was fine by you.

After a few months, Makki finds himself staring at his phone one fateful afternoon. He’s still debating whether to make the call or not. In the end, he shrugs his shoulders. There’s really nothing to lose.

When you see his name, you pick up because of your curiosity more than anything.

“To what do I owe this occasion?” you snort. You hear him repress a chuckle.

“Damn, I haven’t said anything yet and you’re hostile already.” he laughs. You threaten to put the phone down.

“Hey, on my last birthday you said that may all your wishes come true, right? Well, my next birthday is coming up and my wish is to spend the day with you.”

“I’m in Kyoto right now. You’re in Tokyo.” you point out. You are both on semestral break. Has he already forgotten that you spend your breaks with your grandmother in Kyoto?

“I’ll take the day off and I’ll come down to see you.” he holds his breath as he waits to hear your answer, “We haven’t hung out in a while.” he adds casually.

“Can’t you just spend it with someone else?” you sigh somewhat resigned, “The not hanging out part is on you. Don’t put that on me.”

You could hear him thoughtfully inhale on the phone before he replies, “No, I want to spend it with you. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see Kyoto.”

“I’m ending the call now.” you roll your eyes, unnerved by the whole conversation. The audacity of this man!

“I promise I won’t do anything or say anything dumb!” you hear him yell over the phone as you get ready to end the conversation.

“Sure.” You click the end call button.

———————————————————————

On his birthday, you do go out with him. You find yourself waiting at the Kyoto Central Station, wading through the crowds to find his light brown head searching intently for you. He smiles when he sees you. You feel a mixture of sadness and nerves. You’d never thought he’d be so callous with you when he first smiled at you like this.

If anything, today is little more than a break from work. You’re also determined to be so quiet to the point of cold to make the experience so awkward he’ll never want to come to you again.

“I really want to change.” is the first thing he says to you over doughnuts and coffee.

Makki can easily tell that you are still not back to your old self. Despite the strong smell of brewed coffee that pervades the Kyoto Central Station, you sit quietly on your seat distractedly eating a sandwich.

You almost pretend to not hear him. Instead you turn to him with a blank expression in your face and look away.

“I’m serious. I know I have a problem. You’re not the first person to leave me for the things I’ve said.” he adds.

“I’m sure the next person you date will appreciate that.” you mumble diplomatically.

“Don’t give up on me.” you hear his voice pleading, his eyes sincere and not their usual sleepy nonchalance.

You put down the donut and cross your arms, “I don’t owe you a second chance. You know that, right?”

“I’m really sorry—“

“Makki, I hate so many things about myself. I don’t need you to taunt or repeat them to me. You’re an above average friend at best, but you’re a terrible person to date. I can’t even call you my boyfriend because you you said it wasn’t your ‘job.’” you sigh deeply with your hand on your forehead, “Can you see why I’m not enthusiastic about you?”

Announcements left and right and the ceaseless shuffling of the busy station fill the voids of your conversation.

“So why spend the day with me?” he pauses, eyes wide with curiosity looking straight into yours.

“To prove a point to you. Even when you’ve made the effort to come down here, you’re finding it difficult to watch what you say. Do you find that sustainable?” you tilt your head inquiringly.

He nods, less confident than usual “I want it to be sustainable.” There was some uncertainty in his eyes.

“I can already see it, Makki. Two weeks of this and you’ll be ready to blow your top because you’ll be tired from having to be on edge all the time.”

“I’ve got to start somewhere, right? It’s a change of mindset I’m realizing, but it’s not impossible. I’ve been trying to be more careful and it’s been easier. I’m just a little tense because I’m around you today.” he says quietly, “I’m really trying. I promise.”

“Feels nice to be the one that’s not tense,” you let slip a smirk.

———————————————————————————————

At the end of the day, you’re back at the train station with Makki beside you. You’ve taken him to see the Golden Pavilion and its surrounding touristy streets. You stop by a bookstore and a shop for sweets. You buy a book, he buys mochi. Despite your coldness, Makki was intent on catching up with you. He wants to know what you’ve been up to, what movies you’ve been catching, what your grandmother’s inn is like. It’s difficult not to warm up to him.

“Can I kiss you goodbye?” he abruptly asks before heading to his platform. You’ve made your way back down to the center of the train station where all the schedule is displayed.

The first time Makki held your hand was in a train station in Tokyo. You were on your way back from a concert when he slipped his hand into yours in the busy platforms. You don’t pull away, instead you hold on tight. You remember pressing your head against his chest on the ride home, his chin resting on the top of your head. Neither of you said much. The companionship was more than enough. That moment seems so long ago.

“No.” you swiftly reply.

“Not even a forehead kiss?”

You firmly shook your head. You half expect him to insist and push, to say something about you being a prude and playing hard to get, but instead he just nods.

“Can I hold your hands? I want to hold you before I go.” Makki doesn’t murmur nor is he reticient. He speaks in his regular tone, extending his hands to meet your midway.

You hesitate at first then grudgingly agree. You reach out to hold him, your fingers lingering on each other’s barely interlaced.

“Let me know when you’re coming back to Tokyo. I can meet you at the train station and help you with your luggage.” he waves before turning his back. You watch him get lost in the crowd of the station.

After Makki leaves, you head back to the inn to help with the dinner service which is more crowded than usual. Your Obasan is grateful that you made it back.

Towards the end of dinner service, your phone rings incessantly. You curse and head outside of the kitchen to quickly answer the call. Of course, it’s from Hanamaki.

“You could’ve just texted.”

“I miss you already. I just wanted to hear your voice.” he says. His usual flirtatious tone is absent.

“Now that you’ve heard it, can you put it down? I need to go. Obasan needs my help.” you whisper hurriedly, “Now is a terrible time to call.”

“If you want to stop talking, you don’t need to drag your grandma into this.”

“I’m serious, she needs help washing the dishes. You can call later when we’re done with tonight’s service.” you chastise him, “We’re a little short staffed in the kitchen. You should know what it’s like.”

You rush back in to help wash the dishes as your Obasan brings more dirty trays of dishes. Momentarily you put Makki out of your mind. But when the inn becomes quiet again, you pull out your phone and stare at it.

Do you make the call again? After ten minutes of indecision, you give in and make the call.

Makki sounds slightly surprised on the other end of the line, “Done with dinner service?” He probably expected you to not follow through.

“Yeah, done for today.”

He clears his throat, “I slipped something into the book you bought. Did you see it yet?”

You put the phone down to reach for your bag. A thin white envelope is sandwiched between the first page and the cover. You open it up. He hears you unfolding the letter.

“Care to explain?” you ask with an eyebrow raised as you read through the lines. Hanamaki Takahiro sent you a resume…?

“It’s my application—“

“We don’t need another dishwasher here. Besides, you live too far away.” you cut him off.

“To date you.” he finishes. You’re too stunned to reply. You feel your heart skip a beat as you fumble at your phone.

“Don’t pass your judgement just yet.” he adds, “I know I have a lot to prove. I want it to be my job to love you and make you happy. Just know that.”

“...I’m not sure I want to give you a second chance.” you whisper, your voice inevitably cracking. You clutch the envelope a little too tightly, accidentally crumpling it.

Makki pauses before answering, “That’s up to you, but I-I’ll be here in case you do. Anyways, thanks for spending the day with me. I missed you a lot and I’d like to come back someday…if you can let me come over.”

You listen to him breathe in the other end of the line. You imagine him twiddling with a pen with one hand and his phone on the other.

“Goodnight, Makki.” you nod. You missed him too and you want him to come back. You don’t say yes or no, nor will you make promises. For now you let things hang in the balance.

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

If you liked my style of ansgt, you can check out another hq ansgt about Daichi here. 

Taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan @kaizumi @holaaaf @glxar @francxsca

If you wanna be added, DM or comment!! Don’t be shyyyy

[nightklok]

Kloktober Day 1 Prompt

Prompt: Favorite Character and OTP Pairing: Picklegail (Pickles the Drummer/Abigail Remeltindtdrinc) Title: The war is over and we are beginning Characters: Pickles the Drummer, Abigail Remeltindtdrinc, Eclair (cat), band members and charles are only mentioned Trigger Warnings: Very slight angst, very slight mention/discussion of trauma/PTSD. Tags: Some dark humor, mentioned trauma, discussion of trauma, fall, post galagtikon 2, hopeful/happy ending Summary: It's the first fall Pickles has realized he's lived through in years.

Author's Note: Yes this is...6 days late-But i still wanted to publish this anyway so enjoy :')

Read this fic on AO3 or read below!

The first day of fall fell on a Saturday.

And Pickles would realize it was the first time he had actually been aware of fall in years.

He couldn’t remember the last time he saw the leaves change or pumpkin picking or any of the fall activities he sparingly went to as a kid. He simply had no time, family, or desire to do any of those things as he grew older. He had the sudden moment of sadness that he had missed another fall but told himself fall was gonna come back next year and he’d just look at the leaves harder next fall. But he never did.

But now, he had the time. A lot of it. And a fresh perspective on life and just how wonderful living a quiet life was.

Getting to sleep in on a Saturday morning with the person he loved the most and having nothing else to do for the day was one of them. Normally, Abigail was the one who woke up earlier but for the weekend, it got to be the opposite. He could get up in an hour, make some breakfast and they could see about doing something together. Whether it’s going outside or staying in and watching something. But at the moment, he was content enough just sleeping.

But it wouldn’t last long sadly. Despite nothing important needing to be done for the day, he was woken up by the sound of meowing and a cat smacking his face.

Éclair, their beautiful cat they found outside a K-Mart, happened to like going on walks in the morning. And she was very persistent about her walks being exactly at 7:13 AM. It was 7:13 AM.

“C’mon, it’s Saturday,” He murmured as he pulled the blanket closer to his face, hoping that he could sleep for just a few more minutes.

But Éclair had no concept of time and would continue pawing at the sheets and when she began whining, he knew that his time sleeping in was already over. He didn’t want to wake her up and figured she deserved the extra hour of sleeping.

“Okay, okay, I’ll take you on a walk,” Pickles finally answered as he used a hand to gently push her away just so he could sit up. He was careful to not disturb Abigail but he saw her move and murmur something he couldn’t quite hear. He had to assume by the tone that she meant she was gonna do it. She always tried to even when he told her to sleep in on weekends.

“Just go back to sleep, babe, I’ll take care of it.” He answered quickly as he got out of bed but she was already sitting up.

“I’ll come with you.” She answered, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes., “Just give me a few minutes.”

There was no convincing otherwise and he was too tired himself to argue. He quickly snuck in a kiss before he got out of bed, “Alright, take your time.”

By the time he had thrown on some clothes and made himself look presentable enough, Abigail was already by the front door, kneeling down to leash Éclair. Despite them taking the same time to get ready, she looked like she had spent much more time doing it. Then again, she always looked beautiful to him regardless of how much time she spent.

He really did save the world to get to see today huh.

She stood up once she leashed the cat and turned to look at him with that small smile he always loved, “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” He answered as he made sure he put the house keys in his pocket before opening the door to let her out first before himself. Éclair already began wandering around the front lawn, as far as her leash would go.

They were hit by a cool breeze that gently swayed the trees surrounding them, causing some of the red and orange leaves to fall gracefully onto the ground. The trees weren’t entirely turning their leaves yet but the appearance was showing much more by the day. And each day only meant another normal day. The worst was behind them.

“You sure you don’t wanna get a jacket?” She asked.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Got my own body heat.” He answered before he pulled her slightly closer enough to feel her skin heat up by the touch, “Besides I know how you can warm me up if I get cold.”

She wanted to mention about the neighbors or anybody seeing them but there was no one around at the moment. It was just them enjoying the early morning fall, the cool breeze and quiet excitement for a new season that just begun.

“Well, are you cold now?” She asked as she pulled him a bit closer.

He didn’t say anything else but reached up to kiss her, feeling her warm lips as they pressed against his. It felt as compassionate as the other thousands of kisses they must’ve shared in their lifetime. Honestly, he could probably find the same feelings he felt kissing her when he got a first kiss; the excitement, anticipation and pure love that he got to kiss someone he loved.

Their kiss was interrupted when she felt her leash getting tugged by Éclair who had grown impatient of them. She sat as far as the leash would let her, looking up at them expectantly. Amused, they walked past their front lawn to the sidewalk but felt the leash being pulled once again. They turned around to find her sitting still, meowing impatiently.

“C’mon, wanna walk a bit more? No? Okay.” Pickles answered with a laugh as Abigail went to pick her up. Almost immediately, she climbed up on her shoulders as she always preferred.

Her idea of walking outside was to walk a few steps and one of them had to pick her up for the rest of the walk. Walking around a block required too much energy. Did they expect her to actually walk alongside them every morning? Yes. Did she never fulfill that dream? No. But they also fed into her routine and nature, it wasn’t just their house anymore after all.

There was no use in arguing with a stubborn cat. She had made her territory in Abigail’s shoulder and they simply had to go along with it. She adjusted the leash so the other end of it would hook onto the inner jacket pocket that had a small sewn in hole meant for earphones. Once she made sure that the leash was secure inside, she reached over to hold his hand who quickly took it.

They took the usual route around the block. Shoes crunched against freshly fallen leaves, the wind picked up slightly again causing the leaves around them to move gently against the wind to a new area. If Pumpkin Spice Lattes and Apple Cider weren’t a symbol that fall was approaching, it was the leaves.

Pickles did try to remember when he last fall. Was it when he was a kid? A teen, maybe? He always fled before fall approached somehow. Always ended up in an area where he could not see the seasons change and everything remained a stagnant season the whole time.

But there was nothing to run from anymore. He could stay and watch the seasons change and turn forever if he wanted to now. Is this what freedom really feels like?

“Do you wanna go grab some coffee at the coffee shop?” She asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He quickly snapped his attention back to her and nodded, “Yeah, actually, the one two blocks from here, right?”

“Yep.”

He knew she knew that something was on his mind but she thankfully didn’t say anything. She already knew enough that he would speak when he was ready and he was always thankful for being able to fill in the gaps when he couldn’t speak. And she would always be thankful when he knew what she meant to say when she could barely get a word. It was a secret language between the two that no one but them knew and it was one they were both incredibly fluent in.

The coffee shop was a mom-and-pop one located on the end of the corner. LGBT friendly (Did he ever find those kind of coffee shops growing up?) and even had a small corner of the area for younger kids to play with. It was one of the places that they always loved frequently going to-if they weren’t well known to the world, they would’ve been known pretty well to the baristas.

“I can take Éclair, you can go order for us.” Pickles said. There were seats outside and given the weather, it wouldn’t be so bad to just sit outside and drink coffee while enjoying nature.

“Alright. The usual?”

“Surprise me.”

Pickles managed to take Éclair off her shoulder and set her down when he found a seat with decent shade. He tied the leash to the pole of the table but she seemed uninterested in exploring and instead jumped on his lap, presumably to take a quick nap.

He checked his phone while he waited, trying to catch up on whatever missed emails and posts from friends he had missed. Admittedly, going from seeing his friends everyday to now once a week at most was one of the toughest things to shift to. From knowing everything that went on in their lives, his knowledge of their whereabouts now came from whatever they posted in the group chat or social media.

Toki’s selfie with Magnus over the Eiffel Tower during their backpacking in Europe route. Nathan’s blurry image of a kid playing with a gator from the alligator rescue/children’s daycare he had started with Rachel. Skwisgaar’s video of one of the songs he was working with Nathan. A prototype rollercoaster blueprint from Murderface for the Dethklok amusement parks he and Knubbler were in charge of. And Charles not sending a photo but reminding him through text about a meeting regarding his solo album.

It was a crazy feeling to have looking at the boys he had lived with for more than a decade suddenly doing their own things. Did he feel left out? Maybe things were moving too fast? Miss the old times? He didn’t really know.

He found himself staring at his screen for far too long until Abigail came back taking a seat in front of him, “They’ll be coming over in a few minutes.”

He set the phone down, “Alright, what’d you get me?”

“You did mention you wanted me to surprise, didn’t you?” She answered with a playful smile that was clear she wouldn’t go easy on him.

“C’mon, I gotta know if I’m allergic to it or not. Could very well be allergic to milk today and might not even know it.”

“Guess it’s up to you to find out then; I’m sure there’s an EpiPen somewhere.”

Of course, she wanted to ask what was wrong but she didn’t want to press him. She knew he would budge eventually, he always did, but it was just a matter of patience and hoping to catch him at the right time.

Eventually, the barista came with the tray of coffees and food she had ordered, including a puppuccino for Éclair who woke up and hopped down to get her treat when Abigail set it down to get everyone’s orders.

She set the pumpkin spiced coffee, cinnamon rolls and a breakfast sandwich in front of him. She had ordered the same pumpkin spice coffee and breakfast sandwich; she always tried to avoid desserts for breakfast but he quickly shoved in a cinnamon roll in her plate anyway, “Here it can be your cheat day.”

“But you made me macrons yesterday.” She pointed out.

“It was sugar-free. And you can’t just pass off on a warm cinnamon roll. It’s bad for the environment I saved.”

She contemplated not even long enough before agreeing. They were pretty good cinnamon rolls…, “Guess I’ll need to pay for your contributions. Alright, I’ll take it.”

Pickles grinned as he took a sip of the coffee. It was still hot but he refused to even express he burnt his tongue for the sake of looking cool, “Great, glad my hard work paid off.”

For as much as he joked around, he didn’t mention anything about what was bothering him for the rest of their breakfast.

He would mention it on the walk back home when it was Pickles’ turn to let Éclair lay on his shoulder and Abigail holding a bag of free treats that the baristas insisted they take home. A few desserts as payment for saving the world. It was well worth it.

“I forgot what fall was like.” Pickles finally said as he looked at her. He didn’t downplay his feelings by joking

“You did?” She asked.

“Yeah. It had been too long since I last saw leaves and everything else and whatever. I guess it’s making me realize how long I missed out on some things, y’know?”

She had to wonder how he even forgot about fall. Or the fact that his hair color always reminded her of it. It was the color of vibrant red autumn leaves, not quite ready to fall yet but when the sun hit it, it showed the intricate details and would even shine as bright as it sometimes. And how could she ever put that into the right words? Maybe it just wasn’t the right moment, “Nostalgia?”

“I-I guess it’s that. Yeah. Nostalgic for the old things I guess. I was too used to that life. And I’m very happy with you, I really am! I’m doing more of the things now than I did before, but it’s hard to just completely let go of the past.”

Of course, he thought she would get offended which is why he didn’t look at her. Here he was clinging to his past again like some spoiled brat. If only he didn’t open his mouth. He probably seemed so ungrateful-

But he was met instead with warm hands taking his and he looked up to a very understanding Abigail, “I understand. There’s some things I miss and feel nostalgic for too. I don’t expect you to not miss those things. These things just end up happening, it’s part of natural life.”

“I guess…it’s just a lot harder to adjust than I thought. I’m sorry if I’m just dumping this on you, though. I know that this hasn’t been easy for you either.”

It wasn’t easy when Abigail could barely sleep without getting horrific nightmares that he had stayed up most nights worrying about. It wasn’t easy when Pickles ended up getting horrific nightmares too when he came back home, and he had yet to tell her all that he dreamt about. Their future kids, grandkids even, and even the current neighborhood kids would ask for stories of their heroism. Do they even dare talk about the price that was paid for it?

It couldn’t even be said that they had overcome it. The nightmares were less frequent, yes, but they were there. All it took was one bad night to ruin a week or month even. The horrors of their past would most likely be there for the rest of their lives, looming over and ready to strike when things seemed to be better.

But they made it so far together too. What’s another mile anyway?

“It hasn’t been easy but we’re both getting there.” She paused her walking to look at him, “We made it so far together, after all. I don’t expect you to be okay the same way you don’t expect me to be okay either, right? I’m not gonna ask you to do anymore than you already are doing and what you’re doing is enough.”

“And if it’s not enough? God, what if I’m just fucking up right now? There’s no way I can just…I don’t even know what. It’s just terrifying to be falling down that dark path again.”

She watched as Éclair looked up to the leaves around them, eyes completely dilated to look at the world around her. A leaf would just brush past her, failed to be caught and it fell to the ground.

Of course the leaves would eventually be raked. Whatever wasn’t thrown out or burned would eventually become mulch for the soil. Would help provide for the soil when spring rolls around. Then everything will grow again. Everything will be okay.

“If we fall again, we start over and flourish.”

—

“What was your last memory with fall if you don’t mind my asking?” Abigail asked that evening. They sat in the living room couch, sharing a blanket as they watched Knives Out. It would quickly become a tradition for them to watch whatever fall-related movies there were just to get in the spirit.

He paused for a moment, before finally coming up with an answer, “I met you, didn’t I? We were at that fall event Cornickelson used to host. It was probably a few years before you became Dethklok’s music producer? But anyway, we were paired at the same table and I was probably awkward as fuck right then and there but you still wanted to talk to me. We went to the garden and we just ended up talking about everything. God, I felt like a teenager with their first crush when I was with you. I never got to say that your hair color reminded me of the leaves.”

[puckinghell]

Before You Go | Jacob Markstrom

Summary: Lyrics: “And I know it makes you laugh, if I say it first would you say it back? // I don’t know how to say I love you before you go” Words: 4.3k Note: my fave @danglesnipecelly​ wanted a Jacob fic and what K wants, K gets. So here it is! Excuse my sadness about the trade. Not proofread, we die like men. 

--

It’s the most cliché way of meeting someone.

Later, you wonder if your friends are even going to believe you when you tell them. You wouldn’t, if the roles were reversed; you’d make a joke about them watching too many romantic comedies. But you don’t even like romantic comedies, and yet here you are.

“This isn’t good,” the guy says, a frown on his face. He pushes the elevator button a few more times, and you nearly snap at him.

It’s not suddenly going to start working because you keep jamming on the buttons.

But, well, you’ve seen him a few times before: not enough times that you think he lives in your building but maybe someone he visits often. And he’s never been anything but nice, saying “good morning” and smiling at you, holding open the door, remaining completely unbothered when you spilled coffee over his very expensive looking shoes.

You don’t know his name, but he seems like a nice enough guy, so you don’t yell at him. He’s also really hot, but that has nothing to do with the fact that you don’t yell at him.

“I think we’re stuck,” he says. There’s a hint of an accent there, one that you can’t place.

“You think?” you repeat, dryly. You let your eyes travel to the little screen telling you what floor you’re on. It’s been saying ‘3’ for way too long.

“Fine.” The guy laughs. “I know we’re stuck. What I don’t know is what we’re going to do about it.”

“I’ve seen enough action movies to know that there’s no way we’re gonna climb out of here.” You shoot him a pointed look, fixing your gaze on his arms – which are massive. “Although, you might be able to. Me, not so much.”

“I wouldn’t leave you here,” the guy scoffs, and it’s almost annoying how genuine he seems about it.

“So then we wait, I guess.” You slide down the mirrored wall of the elevator. If you’re stuck here a while, you might as well sit down. The guy seems to agree, because he sits against the opposite wall.

“So what’s your name?” he asks, and you introduce yourself. He does, too: his name is Jacob, and he’s originally from Sweden, which explains the accent. But he lives in Vancouver now and one of his friends lives in this apartment building.

“Oh, Alex!” you exclaim, when he tells you his friend’s name. “He’s very nice. He helped me build a table once when I just moved in.”

It was an IKEA table, so it was only fair that the only Swedish guy you knew helped you build it. Although you suppose he’s no longer the only Swedish guy you know, now.

“I’ve seen you around many times,” Jacob says, after some gentle ribbing about Alex’ table building techniques. “Too many times to only now learn your name.”

It’s a feeling you recognize. Jacob’s voice is nice and calming, and you think it’s only his kind blue eyes that are keeping you from having a freakout about being stuck in an elevator.

“I guess if it’s meant to be, the universe will find a way for two strangers to get to know each other,” you tell him with a small smile. You’ve never believed in serendipity before, but if there ever was a time to start…

“So it’s all up to us now to see where it goes,” Jacob says.

And you suppose if you had to get stuck in an elevator you’re glad it’s with him.

--

If it was serendipity for you to meet, it’s fate how well you fit together.

Jacob is everything you could want in a partner. In fact, if someone had asked you to design your perfect partner, you probably would’ve come up to someone awfully close to him; the only exception being that he wouldn’t have a job that takes him away from you so often.

Dating has never been fun for you, before. Relationships as a whole as a can of worms you’ve never been tempted to open, but you’ve been seeing Jacob for a few months now and you can feel the clock ticking.

He’s not pressured you, hasn’t even mentioned it, but the thought weighs heavy on your mind: if you don’t soon put a name to what you have, you might lose it.

And that’s the last thing you want. Dating has never been fun except now it is, because dating Jacob is just like hanging out with your best friend, who is really hot and you also like kissing and having sex with. And relationships are scary but when you’re with him, it doesn’t feel like that.

Nothing feels scary, when you’re with him.

“So I’m leaving for the California trip tomorrow.” Jacob takes a sip of his drink. His eyes are glued on the movie you’ve been watching, even though it’s not a very good movie: you’ve lost your attention long ago.

“I know.” You know because you’ve put the Canucks schedule in your phone, but you don’t tell him that. That seems like something you maybe shouldn’t do. Like a girlfriend thing to do, and you’re not that.

“It’s gonna be a long one,” he continues. His voice is almost too casual, and you don’t buy it for a second.

You’re gonna miss him, too. But you don’t really know how to say that. Instead, you move a little closer, lay your head down on his shoulder. His arm is curled around your body and the weight of it is comforting.

And suddenly you can’t do it anymore. You feel too safe and comfortable and good to imagine Jacob coming home and not asking you over right away, and you know you have to talk to him if you want this to last.

And you do. God, you do.

“I actually kinda wanna talk about something,” you force yourself to say. Jacob veers up as if that’s exactly what he’s been waiting for; maybe it is. He surely knows you well enough.

He switches off the movie and turns halfway, so he’s facing you. It’s harder, that way, to speak, so you fix your gaze on your hands.

Jacob’s hand comes into view, as he carefully takes one of yours and laces his fingers through yours.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he hums, and you tell him. You don’t want to, but you do, because you can’t bottle it up any longer.

“I really like you. And I’ve been wanting to ask, or, talk about… What this is, between us. Or what you think it can be, I guess.”

Jacob’s voice displays only curiosity when he answers. “This is hard for you.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement, but you know there should be an explanation from you anyway. He deserves to step into this knowing what he’ll get, and it’s hard because there’s a chance he decides it’s not worth it.

That you’re not worth it, too hard and too messy and too many skeletons in the closet. It’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done, maybe, to open up to him like this.

But if it was ever the right time to roll the dice and try, now would be it.

“I’ve not had a lot of good, healthy relationships in my past to look back on,” you admit. “My parents had a really messy marriage until they got divorced, and my previous relationships have been somewhat of a shit show, if I can say that. So I think… It’s just kinda hard, to open myself up to that again.”

“I understand,” Jacob says softly, and you can tell from his voice that he means it. “But you think you wanna try?”

“Yes.” It’s not a hard question to answer. “Like I said, I really like you, and, well, I think what we have could be really special. So I wanna try.” You finally look up to send him a small smile. He smiles back, eyes filled with fondness and understanding.

“But you have to give me some time, okay?” you ask. “Allow me time to try. And to figure it out.”

“All the time in the world,” Jacob agrees easily, and when he leans in it’s not scary to kiss him, to feel his hands travel across your skin, the warmth of his mouth on yours. If anything, it feels right.

--

You’re already in bed when your phone buzzes, the expected FaceTime call coming through.

“Hi,” you smile, as soon as you answer. You know the smile probably doesn’t quite reach your eyes, not after the day you’ve had – but the connection is kinda blurry so hopefully Jacob won’t be able to tell.

Jacob frowns. “What’s wrong?”

Well. So far that idle hope.

“How did you know?” you huff, immediately letting the façade go. You were going to ask him about his game first, but now there’s no use. There’s no way he’ll wanna talk about that when he’s noticed your mood.

“I know you,” he answers easily, and that’s true.

Suddenly, your heart squeezes with how much you miss him. You wrap your arms around yourself, balancing the phone on your knees, and thread your fingers into the soft worn cotton of a shirt that definitely doesn’t belong to you.

Carolina is very far away, and you feel it when you look at the screen. It doesn’t feel the same, with Jacob’s face blurry and unable to feel the warmth of his skin.

“Hey,” Jacob says, softly. “Talk to me.”

He moves and you can see more of the environment behind him now, the hotel room bland and generic as most hotel rooms are. You wonder if he misses home when he’s there, or if he’s been around the world so much no place really feels like home. Maybe those generic hotel rooms are familiar to him like a home, too.

Vancouver feels like home to you, most of the time. But it’s not where you’re from and none of your family lives there, and that makes it hard sometimes.

“Is Vancouver your home?” you ask Jacob. The question probably comes out of nowhere but it doesn’t seem to faze him: at the very least he doesn’t show it.

“Yes,” he says. “Sweden is, too. I think I have many homes.” He cocks his head to the side, seemingly staring into your soul even all the way from Carolina. “Why?”

“I guess I just miss my family,” you tell him. “My sister broke up with her boyfriend and she’s really sad and I just wish I was there. We’ve been talking on the phone, but…”

“But it’s not the same,” Jacob hazards a guess, and, yeah, that’s pretty much what it comes down to.

“You know,” he continues, in a tone of voice that betrays nothing about the fact that he’s about to say something incredible, “Vancouver became a little more like home to me when I met you.”

In books and movies, they always talk about the butterflies in your stomach when you first realize you love someone. But it’s nothing like that, for you. It’s more like a tsunami of light flowing through your veins, lifting a heavy weight from your shoulders and replacing it with the comfort of a warm blanket.

And you wanna say it, say those three little words that mean so much.

“I…” you start.

“I loved him, Y/N,” your sister had said, just hours earlier. “How could someone I love hurt me so much?”

“I miss you.”

A tiny smile adorns Jacob’s face, almost like he knew what you were going to say anyway.

“Yeah,” he says, “I miss you, too.”

--

It has happened so many times that Jacob is starting to poke fun at you, a little bit.

“Don’t you just love sweet potatoes?” he’ll say, one eyebrow lifted and too much emphasis on the word love.

You know it’s stupid, okay. You know you’ve been with Jacob for way too long to still not have said those words. It’s a miracle, really, that he’s let you get away with it so long. Any other person would probably have long ago dumped you. Or at least gotten very mad.

And you don’t really know why it’s so hard for you. It’s not like you don’t love him. In fact, you love him with your whole heart, and every single day he does or says something to remind you of it. You’ve thought it at least a million times: God, I love you.

But something dark and twisted, deep inside your heart, tells you that it’ll only be true if you say it. If you say it, you open yourself up to the kinda hurt that’s come to everyone you know that has said it before.

Your parents, who got divorced. Your sister, who got her heart broken. Every single friend that’s called you crying about someone they loved. Every single previous heartbreak that’s left everlasting scars on your heart.

And it’s not like you really need to say it. Things are going well, with Jacob, and he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. Apart from his teasing remarks, he seems completely content.

Maybe he feels it when you kiss him, maybe he sees it in your eyes.

Sometimes, you come so close. So many times, you’ve almost said it. But every time you almost do, you don’t.

You think he notices, most of the time. A tiny smile will form on his face and sometimes he’ll even laugh out loud.

“But if I said it first, would you say it back?” he’ll ask sometimes.

“Of course I would,” you’ll say, but he never tries it, and you think that might be because he knows you’re lying.

--

And then the world gets turned upside down.

You guess you knew there was a pretty decent chance he wasn’t staying in Vancouver. But it was too painful to think about: every time you did, it nearly turned you dizzy and nauseous with worry.

If Jacob wasn’t staying in Vancouver, you’d have to think about what would happen to your relationship. And that wasn’t something you wanted to think about, because he became such a big part of your life you honestly don’t know what would become of you if he left.

But then you have to think about it, because it happened.

Calgary.

You’d never known one word could break your heart this much. And you’ve never hated one city as much as Calgary.

Almost in a daze, you make your way through Vancouver to go to his house. His house, that so much felt like yours before: it doesn’t anymore, and when you step inside you feel like a stranger in a familiar place.

Jacob appears in the hallway, having heard the click of the front door and your sneakers against the hardwood floor. His face is blank, devoid of any emotion, and you know that means he’s hurting.

He’s always smiling, usually, happy almost to a fault. He carries losses with great dignity, never complains, never gets angry or upset. He shakes things off like they slip away from his shoulders.

It’s something you’ve always admired about him, because things stick to you like you’re made of velcro.

This time, though, you can tell you’re not the only one hurting.

“I’m…” you start, but you cut yourself off. I’m sorry doesn’t seem like the right thing to say, and you don’t really know what else you could say.

Wordlessly, Jacob opens his arms, and you gratefully step into them, burying your face in his shoulder. It’s minutes before he speaks.

“At least it’s still in Canada?”

You can tell he’s trying to keep positive, as he always does. But there’s very little to be positive about, here. Calgary might be in Canada but it’s still so far away, and you wouldn’t see him for weeks on end…

“What about us?” you ask, words whispered against his shirt. It’s a surprise he hears you, but he does, and he pulls away immediately, frowning down at you.

“What do you mean?”

You swallow. It’s hard to get the words out but it’s something that needs to be talked about because his move could be imminent: you have no idea how long he’s planning to stay in Vancouver now that he doesn’t have to.

“What’s gonna happen to us if you’re not here?”

Jacob takes a step back, recoils like he’s been stung. It’s not immediately clear to you why he reacts like that, until he speaks.

“I wasn’t aware that anything had to happen to us.” His words are sharp and his face is still blank, but it’s the carefully constructed blank that tells you he’s hiding his true emotions.

You laugh, but it’s humorless. “You’re going to be in Calgary, Jacob. And I’m here.”

“I was gonna ask you to come.”

His words hit you like a tsunami, and for a second you’re rendered speechless. In that second, Jacob continues.

“I thought… We’ve been together for a while, you’ve said you’re not attached to Vancouver. You don’t like your job here. There’s no reason for you to stay here.”

And there’s a reason to go to Calgary, clearly. One very good reason.

But…

But if you go, and things go wrong, you’ll be in a foreign city with nobody. You don’t have friends there, you don’t have a job, or an apartment.

“Y/N.” Jacob’s voice is a little shaky. “Do you love me?”

There it is, the question that you wished to never answer. It lays between you like a heavy blanket of fog, blurring any connection there is.

For the first time, you’re not so certain about your future anymore.

Your future was supposed to be here, in Vancouver. You’d find a better job and in time, you and Jacob would move in together. He was supposed to be a Canuck forever and this would be where you’d raise your family. You’d get a dog, and a house with a garden.

And there’s no reason any of that couldn’t happen in Calgary, but. What if it didn’t? Suddenly you can only see yourself sitting on the floor of an empty, tiny studio in Calgary, snow outside, and nobody to talk to.

Apparently your silence has lasted too long, because Jacob speaks again, more forceful this time.

“Because if you love me, we can talk about this. We can figure something out. You could move with me now or later, or we could do long distance. We can make it work.” He pauses. “But if you don’t love me, maybe that’s just a waste of time.”

You love him. You love him with everything you have and everything you are. But there’s so many thoughts whirling through your brain, so many scenarios that could end so very badly.

And if you’re hesitating, maybe that means it’s not enough.

“I see.” Jacob takes another step back. Something calm has come over him now, a quiet resolve that the decision has been made. “In that case, please leave your key when you leave.”

And you open your mouth; you’ve gotta say it, you want to say it.

But Jacob’s footsteps are heavy as he retreats up the stairs and your feet are nailed to the floor. It’s impossible to move until at least ten minutes later, when you drag yourself outside.

The door closes behind you, the keys laying on the table in the hallway.

Tears are rolling down your cheeks, but you barely notice it. Nor do you notice the cold or the rain.

There’s so many things you don’t know, but if there was one thing you could’ve changed, you would figure out how to tell him you love him before he goes.

--

It’s been 4 days, 5 hours and 20 minutes since you left Jacob’s house and with it, his life.

Not that you’ve been counting. In fact, you’ve done everything you can to distract yourself from counting: eating ice cream, watching movies, calling your sister.

During one of those phone calls, she says something that pretty much shakes the ground you stand on.

“Just because you didn’t tell him you love him, it didn’t change much about how broken your heart is right now, did it?”

Of course, you told her everything: your sister is your rock, your best friend, the only person that knows all of your secrets.

“Uhm,” you say, eloquently, as you let the words sink in. She’s right.

Damn it.

Your whole relationship with Jacob, you’ve been worried about this. About heartache. Because from the very start, you knew how amazing he was, how precisely right for you. And losing him has always been the thing you were most scared of.

Sure, you were afraid to say those three words: but it was because you were convinced it would change things. Like something would shift inside you when you did, and somehow it would bind you to him more, ties that would tear in the most hurtful way when it ended.

But now it’s ended, and you’re hurt. You don’t think you could be more hurt, by anything in the world.

Including if you’d told him you love him, first.

And after everything he’s done for you, everything he’s put up with, after the way he so fearlessly loved you even when you refused to give him that back, he deserves to know.

“I’ve gotta go,” you tell your sister, and she laughs.

“Good luck, babe.”

It’s only two days until he leaves.

You probably shouldn’t know that, anymore. You lost the right to know those things when you didn’t tell him the one thing he needed to hear. But you couldn’t just let him go without at least knowing he was gone, so you’d texted Petey and he told you.

Not happily. You’re not surprised Petey is mad at you. He’s hurting too, probably, but not like you.

But then, that’s partly your own fault.

It’s weird, to knock on Jacob’s door. You haven’t done that in God knows how long, ever since he got you a key. You remember his grin when he handed it to you, shrugging his shoulders.

“It feels as much like your place as mine, by now.”

And it did used to feel like that, but not anymore. You wonder if it still even feels like Jacob’s: surely he’s been packing his stuff, maybe even already shipping it to Calgary.

You don’t get to think about it more, because the door opens.

Jacob looks… Well, he looks good because he’s too good looking to not look good, but he looks tired. Worn out, even: dark circles under his eyes and the blue orbs contain no trace of the sparkle you’re so used to. When he sees you, he frowns.

“Y/N?” he asks. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

It’s ridiculous: after all of this he shouldn’t be asking you what’s wrong, he shouldn’t be worried about you still. He should slam the door in your face or maybe yell at you some more.

But he doesn’t. He wouldn’t. Because he’s the best person there is and he loves you, and you’ve always known it but he hasn’t known the same in return, and..

“I love you.”

You blurt out the words before you can fully process it and you can tell that he wasn’t expecting it, either. His eyes widen and his mouth is a little slack, and for the first time since you’ve met him he looks completely at loss for words.

So you just keep talking.

“I was so scared to tell you that, because somehow I thought if I didn’t say it it wouldn’t hurt so much when it went wrong. All I’ve known is love going wrong, and I guess I thought if we didn’t call it that maybe that would stop it from hurting. But now it’s gone wrong anyway and it hurts so much and I realize it couldn’t hurt more, so I might as well say it.”

You take a deep breath.

“I guess this isn’t the right way to say it, or the right time. But I had to say it now because you’re leaving and I can’t have you leave without knowing. I had to say it before you go.”

Jacob looks at you, and suddenly he’s smiling. Despite everything, it’s enough to make you smile back.

“Now,” he says, “was that so scary?”

“Terrifying,” you admit. “So, I said it first.”

“I guess I’ve got to say it back?” Jacob hums, and then he’s stepping forward and kissing you.

Now you know what they mean in the movies and the books when they talk about butterflies.

“I love you.” He whispers the words against your lips between kisses. “I’ve been loving you. I will continue to love you.”

When he pulls away you take the opportunity to bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“I don’t want you to go to Calgary without me,” you mumble. It’s easier, now, to say it: what you’ve been thinking. What you’ve been wanting. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Jacob answers without even pausing to think. “You don’t have to. Remember what I said?”

“If I love you we’ll figure it out,” you remember, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks.

“So?”

“I love you,” you tell him, again, and you know you’re gonna tell him again and again and again and again.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” he promises.

And you believe him.

[brandyllyn]

NSFW Alphabet Poe Dameron

More of my work (and actual fics at AO3)

A= Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Poe is the King of Aftercare. Once he’s caught his breath he’ll wrap his whole body around you and stroke your back and hair. Or he goes to get a wet cloth to help clean you up. After one particularly fun night he managed to change the sheets while you were too boneless to move.

He just likes to hold you, to match his breathing to yours, to feel you relax into his arms.

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s always thought he had a very royal looking nose. He broke it once as a kid and was more upset that it might be permanently mis-shaped than he was by the pain.

He loves your hands. Well, he loves all of you and if you asked him he’d probably say you had beautiful breasts and then distract you for a while. But the truth is there is something about your hands. About your fingers gliding across his skin, the way they look when they’re clenching against him, or holding his cock …

Yeah, he loves your hands.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He’s not really turned on or off by cum if he’s being honest. Like, it’s a thing that happens as a result of all the other stuff going on. His biggest concern is always how you feel about it. Do you want / need to be cleaned up quickly?

However, there was a time, an hour or two after a quickie, when he saw you on your shift and just knew that you still had his cum on your thighs that he found himself so hard he had to sit down and lean over to avoid embarrassing himself.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you two ever spent any real time talking to each other, he used to think about you when he masturbated. He’d seen you a few times - across the hangar or in Command - and there was something about your smile. Your laugh. Your eyes. Maker, something about your whole body. When he’d gone to bed that night he hadn’t done it intentionally, but when he took his cock in his hand it was you that sprang into his mind and he couldn’t make you leave. So he’d sunk into it. Imagining your soft skin and how you might taste.

The fantasy ended up falling short of the reality.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Despite what the rumor mill says, Poe hasn’t actually been with all that many people. He had a steady boyfriend in his teenage years, a couple of hookups as a spice runner, and then he joined the Resistance and there just wasn’t time to really fool around. Also, by then he’d started to really want to find a connection with someone and that was really hard to do in the middle of a war.

What he lacks in experience he makes up for in attentiveness. He takes direction well and is incredibly attuned to your body. He wants to pleasure you and is willing to do almost anything to make that happen.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Sitting face to face. He loves when you’re riding him, when he has both hands free to touch you - but there is just something so intimate of having you in his lap. Of being able to touch whatever he wants, to kiss you while he rocks inside you.

His second favorite is literally any other position you two can think of.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

To your surprise, while he is goofy during foreplay a lot - once you’re both in the homestretch he’s hyper-focused on your pleasure. The jokes, the teasing, the humor all tend to fall away when it gets down to brass tacks. He just takes your pleasure so seriously. He studies you, learns you, listens intently to every single sound your body makes and responds to it. He can’t do that if he’s joking around.

Unless he’s edging you. Then he’s absolutely insufferable which only adds to the overall frustration. And he knows it.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Despite the thick eyebrows, mass of untamed curls, and permanent five o’clock shadow above the shoulders, he’s actually fairly hairless below. A nice trail of hair from his ribcage down to under his pants - something you just love running your fingers down and he’s more than happy to let you. 

Down low he is a mess. Look, as said above, despite all the rumors he really doesn’t have sex all that often. There’s just not time for it. And he never saw any reason to waste time down there when he could be reviewing mission logs or getting hours flying.

Once you two start seeing each other regularly he keeps things down below a lot tidier.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

One of the things Poe does, that you’ve never really experienced before, is that when he comes he doesn’t close his eyes. His jaw will drop, his brow furrow, but his eyes never close - staying locked on your face instead. He asks you to do the same sometimes, when you can, when you’re able to tell up from down at that point. He just loves the shared moment of connection - of knowing exactly who he’s holding in his arms and that all you can see in that moment is him.

For this reason, he’s not a big fan of positions where he can’t see your face. Maybe for a little while, they are fun, but he always wants to come from a position where he can see you.

Outside of bed, he’s always touching you. Soft touches as he walked by, a kiss on your shoulder when he thinks no one’s looking. And he whispers compliments to you. How beautiful you are, how clever, even sometimes a 'good job' delivered with a raised eyebrow in front of the entire Command. Those make you blush and scold him later so he only does it about once a week.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

For a long time his best friend had been his hand. He knows how to get himself off in under a minute. He would always prefer to get off with you - but when he’s away on missions or when your shifts aren’t lining up he’s more than willing to do the work for himself. 

He always thinks about you when he does though.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Poe has a competence kink a fucking planet wide. There is something about seeing you, in your element, that makes him want to throw you down and fuck your brains out. Once, he heard you use the word 'immiscible' during a Command briefing and had to leave the room before he embarrassed himself. 

You thought at first he had a praise kink but the reality is he just really loves hearing you tell him how much you love him. And if the thing you love in that moment is his body then that’s fine too. But the sound of your voice, saying his name, telling him how you want to be touched, or even just asking basic everyday questions sends shivers down his spine.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Call him basic but he likes a nice big bed with clean sheets. There’s something about stretching out with you, ducking his head under the covers, and just settling into bed that he loves. He’s not opposed to other places, certainly, but when he’s imagining the two of you it’s (pretty much) always in bed.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Laughter. Joy. There is something about the sound of your laughter, the sheer happiness that it encompasses, that makes him want to wrap you up in his body and never let you go. Seeing you smile, sharing a sideways smile with you - it takes everything to not throw you over his shoulder and put you back into his bed where you belong. Where you both belong.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Poe can be aggressive, but he’s not a dom. Not by nature anyway. If you wanted him to take control like that he could do it, but he’d be too worried about hurting you to really enjoy it. A sincere nix on anything that causes you pain - even if you were to assure him you’d enjoy it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He’s not going to say no to a blowjob. Ever. But his favorite thing to do is to get between your thighs and go down on you for as long as you’ll let him. It’s not really about making you come - although that’s an added bonus - it’s about just wrapping you up in the pleasure of it and keeping you there for as long as he can. The way your fingers feel when they thread through his hair, how he can actually feel your thigh muscles twitch next to his cheek… you’ve never done it but he’d stay down there for hours if you so much as hinted you wanted him to.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow. Achingly, annoyingly slow. 

Oh, he’ll fuck you hard if you ask. If you beg. But most of the time his motto seems to be 'slow and steady wins the race'.

He’s not wrong.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Because of the war, you two find yourselves engaging in quickies most of the time. In the morning before your shifts start, occasionally in a closet or other out of the way place where you’re sure that you won’t get caught. It’s not his preference. He likes to take his time, run his hands over your body. Honestly, you’ve had sex more times than he’s actually seen you fully naked and that thought annoys him. He really likes looking at you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Within reason. Poe is willing to do pretty much anything you ask for, but he’s very aware of both his rank and the overall mission you’re both here for. If he thinks it’s something that might cause people to lose faith/trust in him, or puts the Resistance at risk in any way he’s gonna give a flat no.

This is why you’ve never had sex in, on or near his X-Wing. The risk of getting caught - a blow to how his squad might see him - is too high. As well as the concern that once he’s got real memories to add to all of his fantasies he’ll never be able to fly straight again.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Poe could literally make a day of it. Just dip down into the sheets with you and only come up again when absolutely necessary. Use his fingers and his mouth and his body to make you come again and again and again until you beg for mercy.

All day, that is, until he gets inside of you. Once that happens he’s got ten, fifteen minutes tops. Usually far far less. There’s just something about how your body squeezes around his, how wet you get for him, that makes his control fly out the window.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Poe wishes sometimes he owned toys. It hadn’t really been a thing he’s thought was worth the trouble of lugging from station to station - especially considering until recently there was no one else to use them on - and he was perfectly happy with his own hand for himself. Now that he has you, he finds himself thinking of the fun the two of you might have with some more interesting accoutrements. He probably won’t broach the subject himself, but if you did you’d find yourself looking through a catalogue with him beside you before you had a chance to say "g- spot vibrator."

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Poe loves to tease. He likes to push you - likes to see your eyes narrow when he’s being flirtatious and teasing with his words. And then to immediately whisper something naughty that leaves you hot and bothered and angry. He likes the idea of you trying to go about your day wet and needy and wanting him. His absolute favorite moments are when you get him alone and just attack him. When he can laugh at your urgency and see how much higher he can drive you before you can come.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

From years in close proximity to other people in the fleet, sharing quarters with the squad, Poe learned how to be quiet from necessity. When he’s concentrating, when he’s reaching for an orgasm, you only know what he’s feeling from the speed of his breath and the occasional very soft moans.

But boy does he like to talk. When it’s just the two of you, and he knows you both won’t be overheard, he talks constantly through foreplay. Asking what you like, what you want, how you feel. When things are heating up, it often turns into quiet whispers. Short words or your name gasped under his breath.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

While he hasn’t been in that many relationships or had that many partners (No, really. Who has the time?) Poe is a fan of pretty much everyone. He’s not really bothered too much about gender or species - although he does have a preference for beings that are roughly mammalian females. That has more to do with really liking breasts than anything else.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

About six inches, uncut. Nothing amazing or worthy of comment other than the fact that it fits inside of you like it was made for exactly that.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Surprisingly, he’s generally not had a particularly high sex drive. He’s been too busy for years dealing with the First Order to think to much about sex - and finding a person he can share that with and it not become a big awkward deal has felt like too much work.

However, now that he’s found you, he finds he’s thinking about fucking you all the time. In the morning cuddled up to you from behind he considers waking you up with his tongue, at roll call he thinks about bending you over a piece of machinery, at briefings he imagines you’re in his lap or between his legs with your lips wrapped around him.

It’s frankly embarrassing. The only thing that would make it worse is if he knew exactly how often you were thinking the exact same thing. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

Poe is 10000% a cuddler. And he’s going to do everything he has to to be sure that you’re happy and content. But once that happens he’s out like a light. There’s just something about having you in his arms that makes him sleep the deepest sleeps of his entire life.

[starshine583]

For the soulmate thing, can you do k or b for felinette?

(Okay I have Too Many Thoughts for b- like, a whole fic long thoughts -so I’m just gonna do k for now lol hope you like it!)

Everyone has a soulmate. Everyone. No exceptions. It may be a romantic soulmate or it may be a platonic soulmate or it may be some other type of soulmate entirely, but everyone has at least one type of soulmate. However, finding a single soulmate in a world full of billions of people can be tricky. That’s why the gods bestowed mankind with a most thoughtful gift: the lock and key.

When a person is born, they are provided with a lock or a key that’s wrapped around a chain. Sometimes it is on the wrist, sometimes the neck, sometimes it wraps around one’s entire torso, and it is said that, once on, the chain cannot and will not be released until that person finds their other half. When they do find their other half, though, the person with the key will open the other’s lock with a satisfying *click* that will release their chains, and they will be newly free together.

At first, the idea sounds ludicrous. People with keys would be frantically running to try every lock, while people with locks would be trying to frantically find other keys to get the chains off. There would ultimately be more chaos than before when the world was trying to find soulmates without help.

Except there’s a catch.

When two soulmates start to get near each other, their lock and key will begin to act as magnets. The closer they get, the stronger the pull, and eventually, they’ll be running towards each other until one’s key slides perfectly into the other’s lock. Some rumors even talked about a few people getting dragged down the street by the force of the magnets.

Unfortunately, a certain Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng couldn’t attest to whether those rumors were true, because she hadn’t found her soulmate yet.

Oh, she’s tried everything. She’s worked overtime at the bakery to meet new customers, she’s idly walked around Paris for hours to see if the key would pull in a certain direction, and she’s tried forming deep bonds with everyone she knows in case that was a factor she didn’t know about. And yet, despite her desperate attempts, nothing’s worked. Her key continued to lay across her chest, unmoving and mocking. Was there something she was missing? Something she was doing wrong? Why couldn’t these things come with proper instructions?

Her parents told her to wait, that she would find her soulmate eventually, and perhaps that advice would be easier to follow.. had most of her classmates not found their soulmates already. Mylene found Ivan in kindergarten, Juleka and Rose found each other in first grade, Max found his soulmate at a tech lab, Alix and Kim found both of their soulmates around the same time during dares, Chloe found hers at a gala, and even Sabrina found hers a few years back. That left herself, Nathaniel, and Nino still waiting on soulmates, which she took a bit of comfort in. If she must wait endlessly for her other half, at least she wasn’t waiting alone.

But then Alya came along.

And Marc.

And Marinette suddenly felt much more isolated than before.

Everyone around her was happy and in love, and yet her key still refused to move. Her only solace at that point was the fact that Adrien hadn’t found his soulmate either.

Unfortunately, that also gave her another form of torture: hope. Hope that they would be soulmates somehow, that her key and his lock were simply lagging in action, and that someday Marinette would be able to be linked to that beautiful, sweet, sunshine boy for the rest of her life. 

Sadly, a hope like that only crushed her more when nothing ever happened between them. He sat in front of her everyday in class and talked with her all of the time, but her key continued to dangle around her neck. No tugging. No dragging. Just dangling.

One day she tried to throw it away, so frustrated and bitter towards the whole thing, but the chain didn’t break no matter what she did, which was honestly expected. The locks and keys wouldn’t be considered nearly as mystical if their chains could break off at the slightest bit of force. 

Annoyed and confused and worried, Marinette resigned herself to the fate she’d been given and went on with life, telling herself that her soulmate would come even though she didn’t quite believe it. She continued to speak with Adrien on the whim that her key would decide to work and busied herself with friends and work and Ladybug duties to avoid feeling the weight of the chain around her neck, and after a while, she started to feel okay. She didn’t think of her soulmate as much, or where or who they could possibly be. She simply lived her life and consciously ignored Chloe’s teasing towards her being “soulmate-less” or anything else related to soulmates. If life wouldn’t give her her other half, then that clearly wasn’t what she needed.. or at least that’s what she told herself. 

It was a few weeks into this mindset that her heart truly shattered from the pressure, but it wasn’t because of anything Chloe had said.

Adrien Agreste, the boy she’d been uselessly pining after for over a year, her supposed last string of hope, had found his soulmate, and it wasn’t her. It was another girl that Marinette didn’t even know, someone by the name of Kagami.

Marinette broke down that day. She’d managed to slip out of the classroom during the cheers and cries of congratulations and hide in the bathroom, and even now her chest ached from how hard she’d cried. A part of her felt guilty over it, since this was supposed to be a happy day for Adrien, but all Marinette could see was a cruel sentence suddenly pushed further onto her than before. A life without a soulmate, alone. She’d figured that if Adrien, the embodiment of perfection, could still be searching for his soulmate, then she had nothing to worry about. Now that he’s found his, though, she’s not sure what to do or where to go. Should she try to meet more people again? Or get used to a life of solitude? Why couldn’t her soulmate be close to her like everyone else? Why couldn’t her key just work!

It’s been about a week and a half since Adrien found his soulmate, and Marinette, still “soulmate-less”, found herself sitting in their usual classroom once again. The weight in her chest had gotten noticeably heavier, along with the chain around her neck, but she made an effort to ignore it, idly rubbing the key that was the source of her troubles as she waited for her other classmates to arrive.

“Did you see Adrien’s posts about London?” Alya asked excitedly next to her. She’d done her best to comfort Marinette in the last few days- as any good friend should -but in the end, they both realized that a conscious ignorance towards the matter would probably be best.

“No.” Marinette muttered. She hasn’t touched her phone in a while, specifically since Adrien mentioned taking Kagami to London to meet the rest of his family. “Why, did something happen?”

“Only him showing us how great the country is!” 

Alya slid her phone over to Marinette to show her a few pictures. Most of them were landscapes such as the Big Ben, the House of Parliament, and what she assumed was St. Paul’s Cathedral, but one had people in them, people that Marinette didn’t recognize. There was a girl on the left of Adrien with raven hair and brown eyes, clearly Kagami- and wasn’t it cruel irony that they both had the exact same hair color? So close, yet so far! -and then there was a boy on the right of Adrien. He had pale, blond hair that was combed to the side and pale eyes that almost appeared to be silver. His neutral expression highly contrasted the bright smiles on the faces of the couple next to him.

A sense of curiosity pricked in the back of Marinette’s mind, and she straightened to get a better look at the picture. “Who’s-”

The question caught in her throat no sooner than she started it as something lightly tugged on her neck. Her body tensed up, her mind reeling with the possibilities as she glanced down at her key. Did it really just move on its own? Or did the key simply shift on her chain as it had done a million times before? 

“Marinette?” Alya asked, concerned.

Marinette shook herself from her thoughts, mentally scolding herself for being silly. The key couldn’t have moved, because everyone in this class had their soulmates already and she was certain none of the other students at Dupont were her soulmate. The key probably shifted on the chain again, like usual.

“Sorry, I’m fine-”

Another tug, and Marinette gasped as she saw the key actually lift into the air. What was happening? Why was it moving now? She didn’t see anyone new around.

“Yo, Adrien!”

The girls’ attention turned to Nino- who was waving towards the door of the classroom -then to the doorway, where Adrien Agreste himself had just entered. Marinette had forgotten that he was returning today, but that was the farthest thing from her mind right now. She was much more engrossed in the fact that her key was tugging on her neck again, this time harder, more insistent. Whoever her soulmate was must be getting closer, but who could it be? Was someone new to the school? She didn’t hear about anyone transferring.

“How was your trip, man?” Nino asked as he met the blond at the door.

Adrien flashed him a bright smile. “It was great! Aunt Bridgette really like Kagami, and I actually brought someone back for you guys to mee-”

Marinette let out a yelp, accidentally interrupting Adrien’s story as the key abruptly jerked on her neck. It pulled her to her feet and almost dragged her over the desks as well, but she managed to gain enough control and follow the magnetic pull down the stairs.

Alya, along with a few other classmates, gasped and got to their feet as well. “Woah, Marinette! You’re about to find your soulmate, girl!”

Marinette let out an anxious squeak as she stumbled towards the door. She was about to find her soulmate? But how? Who would it be? It almost looked like the key was pulling her towards Adrien, but that wasn’t possible! Adrien already had a soulmate. Unless something really strange was happening-

The key practically flew forward now, taking Marinette with it, and poor Adrien didn’t look like he was going to have time to move. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face, already blurting out apologies for the collateral damage she was about to cause.

Her hands landed on someone’s chest, both parties grunting from the hit, and a distinct sound reached her ears, one she’d memorized from listening to too many youtube videos at night.

*Click*

Marinette’s eyes snapped open, her jaw dropping with shock. Was that what she thought it was?

She didn’t see the signature black shirt and white jacket of Adrien Agreste- the person she’d originally assumed running into -in front of her, but instead found her fists curled into the dark grey material of a vest.  It took a second more to realize that Adrien was actually standing next to her now, his eyes just as wide as hers. 

At the center of the mystery person’s chest was a lock, clear as day, and inside that lock was her key, fitting comfortably in the socket that it had forced itself into. This was… this was it. This was the miracle that people had told her about for fifteen years. Her soulmate was here. 

The chains slipped off of her neck, bringing a strange sense of weightlessness to that area, and tentatively, Marinette’s gaze trailed up to the face of the partner that fate had given her. 

Immediately, she was struck with recognition. The pale, blond hair sweeping across his features, the grey-ish eyes that she could now pinpoint as an icy, steely blue, the sharp eyebrows and facial features- this was the exact same person from Adrien’s pictures of London that she’d seen only a moment prior.

But who was he?

Alya grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her with an enormous squeal. “Girl!! You’ve done it! You’ve found your soulmate!!”

“I..” Marinette trailed off, at a loss for words. She had. She had done it. She’d found her soulmate at last. It’d been so long since she gave up on having one that the experience felt surreal, like a dream that was too good to be true. Please don’t be too good to be true.

“Adrien, are you going to introduce them or what! You said you brought this guy here to meet us, right?”

At Alya’s insistence, Adrien snapped out of his trance, and so did the boy in front of her, apparently, because he extended a hand to Marinette.

“Apologies, I.. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle.” He said sincerely, his voice soft yet steady.

A blush exploded across Marinette’s cheeks, and she couldn’t help flailing slightly before she took his hand. “O-Oh, uhm, yes. Nice to.. to meet you too.”

“Everyone,” Adrien spoke up, an ear-splitting grin now on his face, “This is my cousin, Felix Culpa. Felix, this is my wonderful friend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Marinette..” Felix muttered, as if he were testing the name on his tongue. Then he smiled. It was a small, quiet thing, not nearly as bright as Adrien’s, but it melted her heart faster than Adrien’s smile ever could. “That’s a beautiful name.”

“T-Thanks!” She squeaked out. “Y-You’re really beautiful too- er, I mean- wait, no-”

A chuckle tumbled from his lips, and she caught the faintest blush tinting his cheeks as he lifted her knuckles to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to them. “Thank you, but I’m surely nothing compared to you.”

Marinette’s blush deepened, but before she could decide whether to argue his pure radiance as a human being or thank him for his second compliment, the bell cut into their conversation.

“Oh!” Alya said. “You guys are totally sitting together. I’ll sit in the back if I have to.”

“Oh, Alya, you don’t have to-”

“Nope!” Alya insisted, already jumping up the stairs. “This is the greatest moment of your lives! You’re taking time to enjoy each other.”

Marinette supposed she could fix the seats herself by sitting with Alya in the back, but.. she really didn’t want to, especially when Felix slid his hand fully into hers as he stood next to her. Besides, if everyone was fine with it, why should she fight it?

“Mind if I join you for class?” Felix asked, a light note to his voice.

Marinette offered him a warm smile and squeezed his hand. “Nothing would make me happier.”

Fifteen years just to get a look at Felix Culpa..

It was definitely worth the wait.

(Send me a letter ask and I’ll do a thing!)