#to me they sail together forever okay

[camembri]

every time I see people talking about post-canon one piece and about how the strawhats all go their separate ways it makes me want to start climbing walls and gnawing on the plaster!!!! what do you Mean the found family is going to split up... what do you mean they don't sail together forever... how else are they supposed to satisfy that itch under their skin... who else is meant to understand them... who else has seen their most agonizing moments and their best victories...

[wqnwoos]

You were once deeply and irrevocably in love with Kwon Soonyoung, and it’s incredibly hard to avoid that fact when he works literally two offices down from you. It’s even harder to avoid when you’re stuck in a broken elevator with him for hours, and he seems determined to dissect everything that went wrong three years ago.

as part of the don’t hate, litigate! collab hosted by the wonderful @haologram

⇢ pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader

⇢ genre: angst, fluff, exes!au, lawyer!au

⇢ wc: 5.6k

⇢ warnings: minor alcohol consumption, lots of flashbacks

⇢ a/n: early happy new year!! this is my gift to u all <3 thank u to @haologram for hosting this collab and for just being alive. and thank you SOO much to ally @lovetaroandtaemin and em @gyuswhore for beta'ing i appreciate u both endlessly 💗

SOMETIMES IT TRULY feels like God, or the stars in your skies, or whatever the hell is controlling your fate down on this measly earth, hates you.

Sometimes it truly feels like this indefinite being is determined to deal you the worst set of cards, and this – this trumps all. Being stuck in an elevator with your ex-boyfriend sounds like the beginning of a shitty romcom, except it’s not. It’s your life, and it’s been your life for the past eight minutes, since the metal box you stepped in ground to a creaky, noisy halt halfway between the sixth and seventh floor. 

And it takes eight minutes before Soonyoung sighs resignedly. “Are you just going to ignore me forever?” 

Forever, you think, is your least favourite word. There were a lot of things you thought you’d have forever, and one of them is standing right next to you.

You swallow thickly. Your reply comes measured and clipped. “For as long as possible.”

When he speaks next, you can hear the attempt at a forced smile in his tone. “Well, you kinda just failed.”

You stay silent. If anyone had told you five years ago that Kwon Soonyoung would be begging to talk to you and you’d be ignoring him, you would have called them crazy; and yet, here you are. Ignoring him like your sanity depends on it, because actually, it does. So for the past eight minutes – nine now, but who’s counting? – you’ve barely spoken a word. You’re both stuck; the recovery team can’t make it for two hours at least; and God hates you, basically.

Soonyoung’s trying to make the most of it, and you’re not letting him.

He says your name, ever so softly. “Really, though. How – how have you been?”

It’s weird, going from years of no contact to working together. It’s been a year since Soonyoung joined your company, but it hasn’t become any easier. Not when he’s such an open book, so fucking easy for you to read. Every time you cross paths, he gets this look in his eyes – sad puppy, you’ve nicknamed it. Now is no different.

“I’ve been okay,” you say finally, stiltedly. You’ve never been able to resist that face, and you’re pretty sure he knows it too. “What about you?”

The silence is painful, but the way he says fine stings a little bit more. You know when he’s lying, and he never used to do that to you.

“So…” He shifts his weight awkwardly, huffing out an uncomfortable laugh as he gazes intently at his shoes. “This is weird, right?”

You match him with an equally uncomfortable smile. “The weirdest.”

“Our longest conversation after forever,” he says. “But I wasn’t expecting it to go like this.”

You cock your head to the side, fixing him with a questioning gaze. All hopes of ignoring him are sailing out the hypothetical window. “How were you expecting it to go?”

Soonyoung looks up at you with one of those embarrassed, endearing smiles. “Better.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and then – “You know, Jeonghan calls you the one that got away.” 

He’s always had a habit of dropping things like that on you; things that leave you a little winded.

“That makes it sound like I escaped,” you say, with an ease you don’t feel.

Clearly, Soonyoung doesn’t feel it either — he exhales heavily. “Maybe you did. Escape, I mean.”

You snap your head towards him, eyes almost owlish in your surprise; “You’re not serious.” When he doesn’t say anything, you continue haphazardly, “Soonyoung, that’s not — there wasn’t anything to escape from.” 

Your ex-boyfriend looks miserable. Avoids eye contact, staring fixedly at his shoes with a dejected expression he can’t properly disguise; even throughout the three years of your relationship, you rarely saw him like this. He looks…

Heartbroken, your mind suggests.

“I’m serious,” you insist again, pushing the thought out of your mind. “You weren’t a bad boyfriend, Soonyoung.”

He snorts then. “Okay, we both know that isn’t true.”

“It is!” 

“If we had, like, a counter of who fucked up however many times, I would leave you in the dust.”

You don’t know how to tell him this might even be half of it. This weird pedestal he puts you on – it’s not even guilt-tripping. You’ve seen that, but never from him; Soonyoung just truly, sincerely feels bad. Whenever you look back on your relationship, which is more often than you’d care to admit, it’s plain as day. He truly, sincerely feels that he has never deserved you. Like you’re something out of this world, out of his world. 

“Wow.” Soonyoung huffs out the one word, and it’s half a laugh, half admiration. “You are so out of my league.”

“Stop,” you whine, pushing his shoulder lightly. “Don’t say stupid things like that.”

“Well, not everyone gets to date the prettiest girl in law school,” he retorts quickly, lifting his brows. “Not sure why I of all people get to, but thank you.”

“Stop it,” you repeat, rolling your eyes and fixing the tie he’s wearing. “You’re gorgeous and you know it. You should know it, at least.”

“Not just that!” he protests quickly. “I just mean… you’re so smart. And good. And kind, and funny, and — ”

“Ah, yes! Of course, Kwon Soonyoung, known famously for being mean and horrible and extremely unfunny,” you say sarcastically, before tugging his tie and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I choose my league, and you’re the only one in it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he murmurs, slightly breathless.

“Oh, shut up and kiss me.”

There were a lot of things that went wrong with you and Soonyoung. You’d started off wonderful: both of you bright, flaming, drawn to each other like magnets. You managed the stresses of law school, graduated together, and lined up jobs – jobs that were miles and miles from each other.`

There were lots of things that went wrong with you and Soonyoung, but if you had to pick one, it would be long distance.

“When did we stop trying?”

The question makes you snort. “What, you want a date and a time?”

Soonyoung smiles ruefully, but there’s nothing happy about it. It’s more of a painful grimace. That’s always been the way with you both: you deflect, he feels. He doesn’t hide the way you do, not from anyone. And for a few years, he was the only one who you didn’t hide from. 

Maybe that’s what has you opening your mouth again. “I could probably give you one. A date, I mean.”

Soonyoung hugs his knees to his chest, eyes searching your face. You can read him so well it physically makes you ache. The hint of uncertainty in his eyes, the twitching of his fingers – he’s nervous. He’s torn between wanting to know what you have to say and the strong sneaking premonition that it might hurt. “Go on,” he says finally, just as you knew he would. 

Honestly, you don’t have an exact date. Things fell apart slowly, and then all at once. A toppling tower – leaning, leaning, leaning, until it crashed. 

“There were probably a few things,” you say, softly. “My birthday, for a start.”

He winces reflexively. “That…” he begins, and then breathes out, shutting his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for that.”

“I mean, in the end, it wasn’t that big of a deal.” You’re not sure why you’re trying to reassure him, even if it's true. You forgave him almost immediately.

“Shit.” 

Soonyoung’s first eloquent word when he walks into the apartment only means you become sure of what you already suspected. He takes in the half-eaten cake on the table, candles blown out and tossed to the side, the scraps of wrapping paper littering the floor, the cards; you take in his face. And you know, as quick and as simple as that – he forgot. 

Some small part of you had been holding a sneaking hope that maybe this was just an elaborate attempt at a surprise. You’d told him once, months and months ago, that you didn’t think ignoring people on their birthday to surprise them later was a very nice thing to do. But you’d rather he forgot that than your entire birthday.

His eyes meet yours, both of you frozen to your places. Him at the doorway, you at the table. The distance between you isn’t more than a few metres, but suddenly it feels like an engulfing abyss. Still, even from the other side, you can feel the guilt pouring out of him. 

“Shit,” he says again, before rushing his words out. “Shit, baby, I’m so sorry.”

You haven’t cried all day. You haven’t let yourself, but this has your eyes brimming over before you can control it.

“I’m going to bed,” you say finally, hugging yourself tightly, making yourself smaller. The apartment is warm, but you suddenly feel freezing. And despite your best efforts, there’s a waver in your voice, verging on a crack. “I’m tired.” 

You glance over the remains of your birthday party, one that you plastered a fake, painful smile on the whole way through, and then you turn to leave. 

“Baby, wait,” he implores quickly, and takes a step towards you — you mirror it immediately with a step back, and it makes him pause, his expression falling even further. “Baby.”

“You’re not allowed to call me that.” Your voice is obviously shaking now. “Not today. Maybe — maybe tomorrow.”

Maybe tomorrow you’ll be able to hear his excuses, his promises, but today, you’re allowed to be upset. You’ll let yourself have today, at the very least.

He’d driven hours to see you that day, but he’d still forgotten why he was there. You hadn’t really celebrated your birthday before you met him. Soonyoung was the one who made it a big deal, back when you first started dating, and even now, there’s a sharp pang in your chest when you remember how hurt you were that day.

“You made up for it tenfold,” you remind him now, because it’s true. He made the rest of the week practically a utopia, once you banned him from apologising. And he’d been so busy at work, so incredibly tired the whole month before, and you could understand. Both that he upset you, and that it was an innocent mistake. And you’ve never seen more sincere apologies than those that came from Soonyoung.

He looks grim, shakes his head, but doesn’t say any more. Probably because you’ve had this conversation a few times already, both of you too stubborn to give in. 

“Keep going,” he says, then, looking at you head on. “What else?”

All of a sudden, you don’t want to talk about what else. All of a sudden, you’re annoyed with him, his stupid face, this stupid elevator. “Do we have to do this?” Your voice has switched from somewhat reassuring to harsh – for want of a better word, angry. It makes his brown eyes a little round with surprise, his mouth parting a little.

“What?”

“What else and what if have been on my mind for three years, Soonyoung,” you say acidly. “Forgive me if I don’t really want to talk about it to your face.”

Again, his mouth opens a little bit, stays open as he tries to form words. Until he gives up, seals his lips and nods. “Alright. Okay. That’s fine.”

“I know it’s fine!” you cry out, only more angry that he won’t argue back. You’re lawyers, it’s what you do. And just to be petty, you add — “Besides, I bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about this anyway.”

Finally, his passive poker face drops, and he looks a little confused. “My what?”

Immediately, you regret opening your mouth, but it’s too late to back down. “Your girlfriend. You know, that girl from accounting.”

“The girl fr— You mean Rachel?” Soonyoung gapes at you, and something in you bridles, until he continues. “Mrs Choi, who's married to her wife and adopting a kid next year?”

Well, now you feel stupid as fuck.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he continues, and if you weren’t afraid to look at him right now, you’d swear he was hiding a smirk.

“Whatever. I don’t care. Why are we even talking about this?” you snap, irritated and embarrassed.

He still sounds smug. “You brought it up.”

“You sit with her every lunch hour,” you mutter, heat creeping up your neck. “I just assumed.”

“Well, there’s nothing there. So don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried! I don’t care who you date, Soonyoung!”

He looks a little taken aback, blinking once or twice, cockiness gone without a trace. “Wow,” he says, finally. If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you wouldn’t notice the slight tremble in his voice. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name since — ”

He cuts himself off, but you complete the sentence in your head — three years ago. Three years since you packed up and walked out of his life. It feels like a decade ago; it feels like last week. You’d been so sure that you wouldn’t see his face again after that, that it was a decided end of a full four years of your life. Until last year, when he’d waltzed straight back into your life, this time at your workplace.

“This is the new hire.” Your boss is speaking, but you’re still finishing up the last sentence on the document you’re working on, and you listen absently as he fires a couple instructions — “Jeon, you’ll show him around. Filing system, get him logged on, the works.”

You look up then, to cast Wonwoo a knowing smile, because he always gets lumped with showing around the newbies, but halfway to making eye contact with your friend, you catch the familiar tilt of a jaw, the soft lines of a nose you know so well.

You’ve seen Soonyoung in a hundred people since you left him. You’re always looking over your shoulder at the bus stop, at the grocery store, at the library, finding a tiny piece of him in everyone and everything, a tiny piece that lodges itself tight and sharp into your throat until you take a second look, until you see unfamiliar eyes or too dark hair or shorter legs. Until you find something to make you swallow, exhale, and keep walking.

Now, your second look doesn’t yield anything unfamiliar. Except maybe his hair, gone from blonde to black, but everything else — everything else. It’s him, and he looks just as shocked to see you as you are to see him. There’s a heavy moment that seems only heavy to the two of you, everyone else still talking, the boss still giving instructions, but you and Soonyoung are looking at each other, dumbfounded, and all you can think about is the distinct taste of bile in your throat and the tie he’s wearing is the one you got him for his birthday.

Your initial plan is to avoid him. He foils that plan within two hours, cornering you in the break room, whispering urgently, “I had no idea you worked here, I swear I’m not, like, following you or – ”

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, and you just pin him with a blank stare. 

“I could quit.”

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the sentence. “I’m not so butthurt that I can’t be a professional.”

“Right,” Soonyoung nods, breathing out a little. His lips are chapped. He never used to wear lip balm, just used to borrow yours. You hate yourself a little for remembering that.

The memory almost makes your lips twist with an sardonic smile. “I was so pissed when you showed up here.”

You can see his half smile, rueful and charming, through your peripheral vision. “I felt so bad about it, you know. But you just seemed annoyed when I saw you in the break room, so I figured you weren’t… mad or upset or anything.”

“I went straight from the break room to cry in the bathroom for fifteen minutes,” you admit truthfully. “I had to tell Wonwoo I had curry for breakfast.”

“You cried?”

You scowl. “I’m not saying it to be pitied, Soonyoung. I’m just saying, I’m not, like, some heartless jerk with no feelings. Of course I was upset.”

“I know that,” he says quickly, vehemently. “Of course I know that.” He hesitates, and then continues, words practically inching out of him. “It’s not really my place to ask, but… you and Wonwoo… are you guys…?”

“You’re right,” you say, and press your cheek onto your knees to fix him with your eyes. “It’s not your business. But that’d be hypocritical of me, so… no. No, we’re just friends. I’m friends with his girlfriend too, Cam, she works at the plant shop down the road.”

Soonyoung tilts his head back, lets out one of those breathy laughs that aren’t really laughs. “It’s so weird that you have new friends now.”

“Thanks,” you say, dripping with sarcasm.

“Not like that! I just mean I’m so used to – like, it used to be our friends, you know what I mean?”

“Not since three years ago,” you say with false lightness, because when you lost Soonyoung, you lost the friends he brought you too. You catch the glint of pity in his eyes again, and scoff. “It’s not a big deal. They were your friends first.”

Frowning, he speaks again. “First doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter to them either. Seungkwan said you were the one who stopped answering their calls.”

It’s true, and the feeling still burns a little, because Seungkwan and Jeonghan had called so many times. Even Vernon called a couple times, and you weren’t even that close to him, but Soonyoung has always attracted good people. Like calls to like. Maybe that’s why you ended up leaving.

“I was trying to make it easier,” you say bluntly., “for them to choose you.”

Your ex-boyfriend clicks his tongue, rakes a hand through his dark hair. “It’s not about sides, ___, for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, it felt like it at the time, alright?” Your words come out louder than you mean them to, and you pause, trying to quell your defensiveness. 

Soonyoung raises his hands in half-hearted surrender. “Alright. Alright.”

Something in your stomach feels acidic. Leaning your head back against the cool wall of the elevator, you manage to meet his eyes apologetically. “How – how are they, though? Seungkwan and everyone?”

Graciously, he ignores your quick show of temper. “They’re good. Seungkwan’s working freelance photography now. Jeonghan still hates his job, but keeps getting promoted anyway.”

Jeonghan. You told him you thought you were going to break up before you even told Soonyoung. You wonder if he remembers it, because that night is seared into your memory – New Year’s Eve, three years ago.

You’re much drunker than you ever intended to be when you finally find a place to sit in the cramped apartment, waved over by a sympathetic looking Jeonghan. He pats your head affectionately as you groan. 

“Feeling alright?”

“No,” you say elaborately.

Jeonghan never pries, which is probably what makes people tell him everything. He only raises his eyebrows at you, a hint of scepticism toying with his smile.

You look away, eyes drawn immediately to your boyfriend, laughing in the middle of the kitchen. Throwing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut, looking so fucking happy; when you see him like this, your heart always feels so incredibly warm and so incredibly full. 

Except today, there’s something else intertwining it, something similar to dread, and it causes the faint smile on your face to fade a little.

Jeonghan sees it, of course, and when you look back at him, his eyebrows only raise higher. 

You sink further into that horrible, looming feeling. “Jeonghan.”

“___.”

“I think I’m going to break up with him this year.”

If you didn’t know Jeonghan as well as you do, you’d think the information hadn’t affected him at all; his features remain completely impassive, but you catch the flash of surprise in his eyes. He stays quiet for a long time, the silence between you filled with thumping bass and indistinct conversation, until finally, he asks the only question there is to ask. “Why?”

It’s ridiculous, how one word can bring you to the verge of tears. But that one word holds so much weight – why would you break up with him? Why would you, when you’ve pictured a future with him a thousand times over? 

Why would you leave the best thing that ever happened to you?

You blink back the tears, and Jeonghan waits.

His voice is soft, but you still hear him under the din of the party. “Is this about your birthday?”

You shake your head quickly. “No.” You stop. “Maybe. It’s – there’s just – little stupid things.”

“Little things add up,” Jeonghan says gently. You hate how he’s already understanding.

“Sometimes – ” You swallow thickly. “Sometimes I just feel so far away from him.”

You don’t have to explain that you don’t mean physically. Because that’s part of it, but it’s not all of it, but without you saying that, Jeonghan knows. You barely notice when he takes your plastic red cup from your hands, setting it on the table next to him. “And I know he loves me, and he’d never hurt me on purpose, and – he’s been so good to me, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan only hums, waits for you to continue. And you do, the alcohol only pushing more words out of your mouth. “The distance,” you say, “is killing us.” You rub furiously at your eyes. “No matter how hard we try, Jeonghan, it’s not working, and I feel like – I’m the only one who can see that. He’s ignoring it, but we can’t keep going like this.”

Jeonghan hesitates for a second, looking torn, more torn than you’ve ever seen him look. “Do you still love him?”

Tears blur your vision again, but don’t quite escape this time. “I don’t know how to stop.”

When you kiss Soonyoung after the countdown, your cheeks are wet.

“Long distance.”

“What?”

“You asked what else,” you say, picking at your nails. “I think it was the distance. I think that’s what – you know. Broke us up.”

Soonyoung has that look in his eyes, the one where he wants to argue but knows he’s going to lose, knows that you’re right. He breathes out, licks his lips and tries to speak. “We tried so hard.”

It’s not even a counter-argument. You agree with him, even. The two of you were brilliant at long distance, until you weren’t. Hours-long video calls, surprise weekend visits, staying over for the holidays, until it all started collapsing. Weekly movie nights kept getting postponed. Visits had to decrease in number. You were missing each other’s calls – if one of you wasn’t working late, the other always was. It was like the entire universe was working against you both, and suddenly, you felt like a burden rather than a lover, and Soonyoung would probably say the same. It’s hard not to feel that way, when you’re celebrating your anniversary over FaceTime and both of you keep dozing off while the other talks.

In a way, Soonyoung is right: you both tried so hard. In a way, he’s so wrong: neither of you tried hard enough.

Towards the end of it all, you were too tired to fight. Both of you were. The breakup was a quiet affair, mostly. You brought it up first, standing in the kitchen of Soonyoung’s apartment after realising you had no idea where he kept his cereal bowls.

“Soonyoung?”

“Babe, I told you, it’s the third cupboard from the left,” he calls, but he’s rounding the corner to his kitchen anyway. He stops in his tracks when he sees your face, smile fading, and for a second, time freezes.

“Soonyoung,” you say again, quieter.

And he knows. “Don’t,” he says, faintly, but there’s no weight behind it, because he knows.

Tears are already brimming your eyes, and you’re wrapping your arms around yourself, shaking your head. “I can’t,” you say, and you’re not sure what you mean. I can’t end it. I can’t keep going.

The picture before him is enough for Soonyoung, and any defence, any fight he still had in him (because he’s always been the more tenacious) drains. He gives in, same as you. 

“Okay,” he says, in a voice that’ll haunt you for years to come, a clashing harmony of gentle and damning. “Okay.”

You try to formulate words. You fail. All that you can say is “Soonyoung.” before you trail off. 

You don’t finish. He gives you a tired, forced smile, says something about, “We had a good run, didn’t we?”, but you’re too busy trying to wrench the tears back into your eyes to focus properly. Your efforts are in vain, of course, tears slipping down your cheeks hot and heavy, no matter how much you try to stop.

“I’m sorry,” you say tearfully, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t be sorry.”

After that, he only helps you load your bags into your car and says thank you when you give him the house keys. He does everything so quietly, so methodically, so defeatedly. It’s like he’s just lost a war he’s been fighting for far too long.

It turns out that in the end, four years can be reduced down to this: two cardboard boxes, three bin bags, and two broken hearts.

It’s your fault, in technical terms. You finished this. You’re the one who said the words, or almost said them, the one who spelled out what was so obviously ignored. More than once, because you’d tried this before, six months ago. Soonyoung was the one who fought back. He’d said no, of course, that first time. He’d said no with tears in his eyes, like it was a surprise to him, like he couldn’t see it the way you saw it — that you were on two very different paths. 

Soonyoung didn’t believe in following diverging paths, he believed in forcing yourself straight ahead hand-in-hand, come hell or high water. He believed in it, until he didn’t, and then he let you go.

When it’s time for you to leave, he accepts the hug you can’t help but fling on him just before you step in the car. Both of your arms around each other, fitting into place like you have a hundred times before, but so much tighter and so much briefer this time. Soonyoung clings to you like he’s never going to see you again, because he isn’t. You cling to him like this is the last time you’ll ever hug him, because it is.

And then both of you are pulling away, laughing awkwardly at the wet patch you’ve left on his shirt, and then you’re getting in your car and he’s waving you off and it’s over, just like that.

“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” There’s an acerbic quality to Soonyoung’s laugh as he continues. “We broke up because of distance, and here we fucking are.”

There’s a metre and a half between you two.

“Maybe it was a dumb reason,” you say. Voicing the thought that’s tormented you since the day you drove away. Because maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was a temporary rough patch, and if you’d stayed, if you’d fought a little more and a little longer, you’d still have Soonyoung.

But you didn’t, and you don’t.

There’s a heavy expression on Soonyoung’s face, a strange mix of anger and confusion and guilt. “Maybe,” he says, at last. There’s the vaguest trace of bitterness, the little tiny sting that reminds you again that you’re the one who called it quits. 

“It felt like the weight of the world at the time,” you say ashamedly, squeezing your eyes shut for a second.

Soonyoung takes the chance and scoots closer to you, sitting against the wall with you, shoulder-to-shoulder. (How easy it would be to just rest your head there, as you’ve done a thousand times before.) “It can’t have been easy,” he says, patting your hand with his own. Warm and familiar in its unfamiliarity, which is when you realise you’ve misread him, for once – he’s not bitter. He’s empathetic.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Soonyoung continues softly, rubbing his eyes, “but God, I wish you’d just talked to me. Actually — I wish we’d talked to each other.”

“Yes, well,” you say dryly, wondering if he’s going to catch your reference, “I’ve always had a problem with communication.”

He catches it; it makes him pause, lift up his head, give you a tiny smile.

It takes you a minute to register that the seat across from you has been occupied. When you do look up, you realise Soonyoung’s mouth has been moving since he sat down, and you haven’t heard a word of it. Also, somewhere between the class you guys shared two days ago and his presence in the library this morning, his hair’s gone from a discreet dark brown to a particularly indiscreet blond.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, taking out your earphones and setting down your pen. “What?”

“I said – do you have a problem with communication or something?” Despite the nature of his words, he’s practically beaming at you.

You blink at him, bewildered. “I mean… maybe? But — what?”

He holds up his phone. “Project,” he explains elaborately. “I’ve been texting, and I didn’t get a reply, and then I saw you over here, so I thought I’d ask.”

You frown, grabbing your phone. “I didn’t get any texts.”

Soonyoung mirrors your expression, tapping at his screen, and you’re struck by how much the blond suits him. As did the brown. As did the black he had a semester ago. Not that you’ve been keeping track, but it’s hard to not notice someone like Soonyoung. Even if the first time you talked to him was two days ago to organise the project you’ve been paired up for — you know him. Of him, at least.

He swivels his screen round to face you, showing you a contact with your name and what you quickly realise is almost your number. You smile a little awkwardly, tapping the last digit. “That’s meant to be a seven. You’ve got an eight.”

“Fuck,” he exhales, “that explains it. Who the hell have I been texting about litigation then?”

Something about his expression and his tone is so comical it makes you laugh, which surprises him a little – he glances up at you with a blatantly admiring smile, and he taps the edge of the desk. “Your eyes light up when you laugh, did you know?” And as quickly as he says it, he moves on, gesturing to your phone. “I’ll text you about the project, okay?”

He’s like a hurricane, and you’re trying your best to keep up. “Okay,” you agree confusedly, still hot-faced from the sudden compliment. “Yes. That’s — yes.”

As he gets up to leave again, he shoots you another one of those blinding, dazzling smiles, and sticks his hand out. “We’re friends now, right?”

His question sounds childishly sweet, and you can’t find it in yourself to do anything other than agree. 

Your one little reference sets you both off. You spend the next two hours talking and talking and talking, every other sentence beginning with “Remember when…”, as the two of you dredge up the long-buried memories of four long years spent together.

Soonyoung talks about the massive crush he had on you before you even got paired up for the project. You talk about how you never believed him, even when he did ask you out – it took three tries before you understood how serious he was. And then you remember the time Soonyoung sprinted from campus to his accommodation and back just to get you the calculator you forgot for your exam – and the time you both went to a frat party and ended up playing the most intense game of UNO in the bathroom with Vernon, which ended in a drunk Soonyoung trying to flush the cards down the toilet. 

He talks about the surprise party you threw for his birthday, and you talk about the time he tried to make you pancakes for National Girlfriend Day and failed horribly. You ate them anyway.

You don’t, however, talk about other things, even if you remember them. You remember Soonyoung kissing your forehead every morning he woke up next to you. You remember him buying your favourite flowers for your favourite vase every week. You remember coming home after a long day to food already delivered and paid for when he was working hours and hours away. You remember being so incredibly in love that it made you giddy and so in love it made you calm. And you don’t talk about it, just store it away somewhere as a reminder of what love is meant to feel like. If four years with Soonyoung brought you anything, it’s that: it taught you how to love and be loved.

When the recovery team finally arrives, you leave the elevator feeling like a new person. It doesn’t hurt when you look at Soonyoung anymore, there’s only a vague, warm fondness. And he can look you in the eye now, which he does. He smiles at you, sticks out his hand the same way he did all those years ago.

“We’re friends now, right?”

an / AHHH!!!!!! i know this fic is only like 5k but it took a lot out of me so i’d love to hear your thoughts. literally any thoughts. i wanted this fic to be longer but it happened this way and. what can i do. i may be the author but im NOT in control. it’s not a fic i’m 100% proud of but i think it’ll still hold a special place in my heart!!!! i love an angsty exes au.

anyway — this will be my last fic this year!!! see you all in 2025 and thank you so much for all the notes and all the reblogs and all the wonderful conversations this year i love you

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[cozage]

Congrats on 2k!!!!

For the request I was wondering if you could do the ASL boys confessing to their childhood friend that they've had a crush on:) and if it's not too much could you add shanks as well?? It's okay if not!

I love your writing it's the best just make sure you're taking care of yourself!! <3

A/N: Some of these are kind of subtle, but I think subtle is their way of confessing after that long :)  Characters: gn reader x Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Shanks CW: Marineford spoilers Total word count: 873

From Friends to Lovers

Ace

“She looks like your type,” you mumbled, nudging Ace. A girl at the end of the bar had been eyeing him all night. 

“And how do you know my type?” Ace asked, raising his eyebrow at you. He was slurring his words just slightly; enough for you to know he was drunk.

“Please. We’ve been friends forever, and we’ve sailed together for two years. I know what kind of girls you go for.” You laughed, pushing down the jealousy that churned in your stomach. 

“You must not,” Ace said, leaning his head against you. "I'll stay right where I am."

“Go talk to her,” you urged. “It’s not doing you any good being by my side.”

He frowned at you. “What do you mean? I’m already sitting next to the hottest person in the bar.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove. 

“I’m serious.” He had a newfound urgency in his voice. “You’re the only one for me. You’ve always been the only one for me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. There was no way he could be serious right now. He was drunk and stupid. 

He saw the bewilderment on your face and gave you a goofy grin. “Are you just now realizing I’m head over heels for you?! I thought I had made that obvious from day one!”

Sabo

You stared at the man before you, unsure how to react. He looked like Sabo. He definitely acted like Sabo. Even his name was Sabo. But it had to be a coincidence. 

“No,” you said. “Sabo died. Sabo died a long time ago.”

“There was this one winter day where we went sledding,” he said. “We raced Ace and Luffy down the hill a hundred times. They kept trying to beat us, but they never could. And then Dadan made us go inside and gave us hot chocolate and let us all sleep together in one big bed that night because it was so cold. I said it was the best day ever because we got to spend it together.”

Tears filled your eyes as he spoke. “You died,” you whispered again. 

You were talking to a ghost. You were afraid any moment you’d wake up and be left alone again. Just like when he had died. Just like when Ace had died, and Luffy had disappeared.

“I lost my memories from the head injury and was taken in by the Revolutionary Army. I only remembered after I saw the headlines about…” 

“Ace,” you whispered, tears spilling over. It still hurt to think about. 

“I’ll never leave you again,” he promised. “Come back with me to the Revolutionary Army. We’ll keep you safe. I want to hear about everything.”

“Sabo-”

“Please,” he begged. “I know I just remembered you, but my heart has ached every moment we’ve been apart. I just found you again and I’m starting to feel whole. Please-please don’t leave yet.”

Luffy

“Heeeeeeyyyyyyy!!!!” Luffys voice rang out from above you, and you instinctually braced yourself. 

He slammed into you, sending the both of you falling to the ground. You screamed out in glee as rubber arms wrapped around you, holding you tight. 

“It’s been a while, Luffy!” 

“I can’t believe it’s really you!” He shouted. “What are you doing here?”

“This is my home, idiot!” You laughed, trying to squirm out from under him. 

Moving away from his grip was proving to be quite difficult though, considering Luffy’s body weight was on top of you, his arms still tightly around you to prevent you from moving. 

“Your home was Windmill Village. I’ve missed you since you left.” 

Tears filled your eyes, and you suddenly enjoyed his closeness “I missed you too, Luffy.”

“Sail with me and my crew,” he said, pulling away slightly to look in your eyes, begging you with his big, dark eyes. “I want you to join me.”

You raised your eyebrow. “I have a life here, Luffy. I can’t-“

“Make a life with me!” He whined. “Come on!!”

“You still want to be King of the Pirates?” 

“I can only do it with you by my side.”

Shanks

A red-haired man sat down next to you in the bar, glancing your way. 

“Come here often?” he asked, sliding your favorite beer over to you. 

“Only in town for the week.” A smile danced across your lips. “My pain in the ass captain has us on a tight schedule.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his jolly laugh, the room brightening as his voice echoed through it. 

“He sounds like tough work,” Shanks said, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“He is!” You took a long drink of your beer. “I’ve been sailing with him my whole life, I think I would know.”

He smirked. “And you’re not tired of him yet?”

“Nah,” you chuckled. “I could never get tired of you.”

Your words caught up with your brain, and your cheeks turned a deep pink at the realization of what you had said. 

“Good, because I’ll never get tired of you either. ” Shanks gave you a softy, gentle smile and cupped your cheek with his hand. “So you’re stuck with me for the rest of time, okay? You’re all mine.”

“Of course, Captain.”

[chooppi]

♡ A LONG NIGHT - VINSMOKE SANJI

WARNINGS: fluff, gn!reader

WORD COUNT: 697

it is way past midnight as you’re looking at your boyfriend who is sound asleep. usually, he will always stay up and make sure you fall asleep first, but today was a long day and he could no longer keep his eyes open. if he knew about it, he would probably curse himself in the morning, he wouldn’t want to know that you were laying wide awake with your own thought while he slept comfortably.

his blonde hair is a mess as it’s covering half his face and even through the dark room, you can see his eyelashes resting against his cheeks.

one of his arms is holding you close to him by being wrapped around your waist, making it difficult for you to turn and find a more comfortable position, not wanting to wake him up.

life does become hectic at times, especially when you’re out sailing for a living and meet new people, both good and bad on different islands. having to cook dinner for the entire crew, sanji hasn’t been able to spend as much time with you as he would like.

if it wasn’t this late into the night, you wouldn’t be giving it extra thought, but your mind is wandering away into dangerous territory, overthinking.

the two of you are on the same boat all the time, even if you aren’t always right next to each other, you’re basically always in the same room. you’re always wandering around the islands together and always spend the night together, it isn’t impossible for him to grow tired of you, right?

after years of being crew mates and a couple, it wouldn’t surprise you at this point. there could be others that might be more interesting for him.

you shuffle slightly closer to him and bury your face into his chest, trying to get rid of the nagging thoughts, and feeling you moving in his arms, sanji slowly opens his eyes to find you still being awake.

“darling, are you not sleeping?” he mumbles while stretching slightly. his gaze moves towards you who is now looking back at him, eyes wide by hearing his voice. “can you not sleep?”

you shake your head and hear the sigh escape his lips. “you should’ve woken me up earlier, i could’ve made you something to eat or drink,” sanji whispers while placing one hand onto your cheek, rubbing it gently. “are you worrying about something?”

he kisses your forehead lightly while awaiting your answer. “i just hope we can be together forever,” you admit quietly. “i don’t want to lose you…”

sanji’s eyes widen at the sound of those words leaving your mouth, but he quickly composes himself and pulls you closer. “i don’t want to lose you either, baby. and you won’t lose me, i promise,” he leans his forehead against yours. “i’ll be your private chef for the rest of our lives, you don’t need to worry.”

you can’t help but smile when he says that, and you move as close to him as you possibly can, wrapping your arms around him tightly. “so you like having a private chef? i knew you were just with me for my cooking skills,” he tries to lighten the mood, knowing exactly how to make you feel better.

“don’t get full of yourself,” you roll your eyes at him, but sanji won’t let you say anything else as he finally presses his lips to yours. it’s not harsh, instead it’s soft and gentle while his hand stays resting on your warm cheek. “how can i not be full of myself when i somehow get to be your boyfriend?”

he begins brushing a hand through your hair. “but seriously, don’t doubt my love for you, ever. i’ll keep loving you for the rest of my life, i promise,” sanji whispers as your faces are only mere centimeters away from one another. “let’s try to sleep again, okay? and if you can’t fall asleep i’ll make you a snack and something to drink, okay?”

“that makes me not want to fall asleep.” “if you fall asleep you’ll get breakfast in bed, so shut those pretty eyes and get your beauty sleep.”

[g4rvez-r3id]

Let Me Stay

Ex! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer have gone back to normal, somewhat. But it only takes one conversation to ruin that all again. All you wanna do is stay, but he won’t let you.

Category: Angst

Warnings: not really a happy ending, established past relationship, maeve arc, mentions of death and suicide, takes place during 8x17 “The Gathering”, mentions of 8x17 events, spencer being a lil sad shit, crying, reader was in a past relationship before spencer, it’s just really sad, let me know if i missed anything! <3

Author’s Note: here is part two to “when you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light”! it’s short and sad 🤗 might make a part three???

part one

After helping Spencer, things were back to somewhat normal. You’d both bumped up from only talking on cases to the occasional small talk near the kitchenette or asking how each other’s days were going when you both were in the elevator on the way to the bullpen.

Everyone seemed to notice the change but hadn’t said anything to indicate that they knew. But then you’d heard Garcia gossiping about it in her office the other day to Morgan.

“Can you believe it? They’re finally talking again! Isn’t that great? Small talk can lead into something more! Maybe they’ll finally get together again and my ship will sail!” She’d fangirl and you shook your head with a small chuckle escaping your lips. (She was always so hell-bent that you two would eventually get back together).

Not that you didn’t agree with her, you always hoped you’d get somewhere with Spencer again. You just didn’t know when you could. He was still in mourning over Maeve and you knew he needed time to heal before dating again. You’d wait forever if you had to, unfortunately.

He still seemed quiet during most of the cases or would bury himself in his work to avoid feeling his feelings. And you couldn’t say you blamed him, because if it were you, you’d do the same thing. You have done the same thing. So, with understanding, you left him alone. And you were waiting for him to come to you.

And then you had that case in Minnesota. Your unsub was Peter Harper, he had stabbed women and pulled their tongues out pre-mortem. And you knew that him pulling the tongues out had some kind of significance to him. The disparate set of women victims was chosen at random until they discovered one connection between the women and it was that they all have a very strong on-line presence, their deaths telegraphed by stories in their own online blogs, messages or texts.

They’d finally found him at a public pool, ready to throw a woman in the pool and to wait for her to drown and when the team finally found him, he’d had a knife to his neck, ready to kill himself. You and JJ tried to talk him down off the ledge and told Peter he’d get help and that everything was gonna be okay. But then Reid had spoken up, telling him the truth and the total opposite from what you and JJ were saying.

Peter had killed himself shortly after that. And Reid walked off in frustration. You and JJ shared a look, wondering what the hell that was about.

You’d gone back to the office after filling out your paperwork. You were ready to go home, to relax and to wash the stench of this case off of you. And while you were packing up, you’d overheard Hotch and Reid’s conversation nearby. You knew Hotch was questioning his decision with telling Peter Harper the truth — that it wouldn’t get better, that it was gonna be hard to get help.

And when questioned about it, Reid’s answer was simple. “Well, Hotch, I thought the last time I was in a situation like this, I did exactly what I was supposed to. I told a perfect lie and that didn't work, so this time, in the hopes of saving someone's life, I tried something different.”

And then it was clear what this was about. Maeve. And you’d known that he still wasn’t over her. And of course, it really hadn’t been that long since she died, the wounds were still raw.

When you saw Reid abruptly leave the convo between him and Hotch and head towards the elevator, you knew to follow immediately. You’d worried a lot about him since what happened with Maeve. And you guessed that you just wanted him to be reassured that he had someone in his corner.

“Spencer,” You called in the parking garage and he’d turned around at the sound of your voice and could tell by his sigh that he was in no mood to talk with you but regardless he stopped.

“Look, I really don’t want to talk right now—” And you should’ve just left it at that. But you pushed, like you always do. Instead of walking away, you interrupted him. “I don’t care if you don’t wanna talk, but you know what you’re gonna do? You’re gonna listen.” Spencer crossed his arms, obviously in defense mode as you continued.

“Spencer, we have given you time. We have been there for you thick and thin and all we wanna do is help—” This time, he interrupts you. “Have you ever thought about the fact that maybe I don’t want your help? That maybe what I need is just a little bit of space?”

With that, he walked off.

And you’d officially had enough.

“Do you really think that you are the only person in the world who has lost someone?” You exclaimed and Spencer stopped in his tracks, his back still facing you. “Well, you are barking up the wrong tree because — newsflash, Spencer — you are not the only person who’s lost someone. When I lost—” You pause, not wanting to say his name. “I was… such a wreck.”

You gulp, deciding to continue, hoping your words were getting somewhere with him. “And you helped me, remember? I never would’ve gotten through that if you hadn’t of helped. And I pushed and pushed you away but you didn’t leave. You stayed. All I’m asking is to let me stay.” You walk over to Spencer and he looks down at the ground, avoiding your eyes as you choose to stand in front of him.

You bow your head, wanting to meet his eyes as you put a waiting hand on his soft cheek. You move his head to look at you. “So, let me stay.” He can see the tears forming in your eyes as you practically beg him. His eyes gaze over to your lips before quickly going back to your eyes.

“Please don’t shut me out when all I wanna do is help.” You tell him and instead of nodding and listening to you and asking you to stay, he walks away. Because if he stays any longer, he might kiss you. And you don’t deserve that. Not right now.

He walks away, leaving your heart in pieces and you in shambles. He chose his path, so you must take the same route and forget you’d ask him to let you stay.

[astralis-ortus]

[ preview ] don't like me less

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— even when i'm not everything you wanted, please don't like me less.

w.count → 0.2k [preview]; 1.3k [full story] genre → comfort, fluff warning → chan referred to as my christopher, baby, and babe; reader referred to as baby and babe; based on chan's bubble text♡ a.n → this post serves as a preview. full story could be obtained through here♡ ⋆ see masterlist

"have you ever gotten the ick while you're with me?"

chris' unexpected question of the night had resulted in the lines of disapproving frown between your eyebrows, and you need to made them known to him as you pulled away from your boyfriend's warm embrace under the duvet, pair of questioning eyes gazing right into his beautiful ones.

"the ick?" you reiterated, still unsure to why your boyfriend of two years is having this kind of thought, "what do you mean by that?"

for you, the past two years has been the best time of your life.

of course, saying things like 'it's a smooth sailing relationship' or 'we have never fought' would be a complete lie—you're just a human after all and so is chris, but past every ups and downs you've walked through together with your hand in his, you're certain forever wouldn't feel as long when you have chris right by your side.

"it's just—it's a silly thought, really," chris sighed, fingers lightly tracing shapes on the bare of your shoulder as he started to regret where his impulse has gotten him, "but i just… you know, i'm such a nerd."

the confusion in your eyes must have grown the more apparent, judging from the way chris immediately followed, "well, i mean, you once said it yourself that i really, really know my anime. i also game a lot, and i… i don't know, have you ever found it… icky, that i like those stuff?"

okay, now you're completely lost.

"what if i told you yes, i have?"

[ click here for the full story ]

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of my First Friend.

In this strange new world, nothing is certain—not even one’s safety.

But through it all, you were with me. Always by my side.

Please don’t leave me behind.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

"Grrr...! This stupid thing won't close," Grim complains. He fumbles with the buttons on his robes, which refuse to be secured.

"That's because you've got two left thumbs... or, more accurately, no thumbs at all," his human companion teases. They crouch down, gesturing for him. "Here, I'll help you."

"Myahaha, that's my minion!" Grim scrambles over on all fours—definitely not like a cat. He's far more dignified than some glorified house pet or familiar.

"You're going to get your clothes dirty if you walk around like that," they scold him lightly as they cinch his robes shut, then dusts him off. They pause, going in to adjust his waistband, then the angle of his cap. "There you go." "All set for your big day."

"Our big day," Grim corrects, nudging them on the cheek with his paw. "We're a 2-for-1 deal, remember?"

"Right. Me and the almighty Grim-sama," they reply with a laugh, poking his little nose.

An ear-splitting sob disrupts the intimate scene. Three ghosts in top hats and gray cloaks sail in—one small, one plump, one scrawny—all wailing.

"I can't believe this day's finally arrived!"

"Grimmy and Prefect, all grown up... Off to tackle Twisted Wonderland head-on..."

"WAAAAH, I'm gonna miss my living roomies!!"

"Hey, hey, what's with the empty nest syndrome, guys?" The prefect huddles with the ghosts. They cannot physically touch, but the same energy is there, their arms lingering where the ghosts’ bodies float.

“B-But…!”

“Don't worry. No matter the time or place, we'll carry the spirit of Ramshackle dorm with us wherever we go.“ They smile sympathetically. “That means you’ll always be with us! This world, this life… and into the next.”

"D-Do you really think friendships can last more than a lifetime?" one ghost asks through his tears.

"For sure. So please… Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened. Can you do that for us?”

“O-Okay,” the trio blubbers and sniffles.

“Geez, you’re all a buncha babies,” Grim sighs, paws on his hips. “C’mon, we’re supposed to be celebratin’ US today!! Like my minion said, let’s see some smiles, yeah?”

“We’ll come see you off at the ceremony the,” the small ghost suggests. The cheer is strained, like he is holding back a torrent of tears.

"The ceremony…” The prefect’s eyes go wide and panicked. “Oh crap, we're going to be late! The headmaster should already be starting his speech...!"

"Not a problem, leave it to this Grim-sama. A teleportation spell's easy as takin' a tuna can from a kitten!"

"Sorry, guys. Gotta run...! We'll see you there?"

Grim expertly clambers onto the prefect's neck, making himself comfortable as a boa on their shoulders. The magestone dangling from his neck lights up, and the duo are enveloped in its glow.

The last sight before they blip away are the ghosts, waving good-bye with wet eyes.

A blink later, the two are among a crowd of students in the same uniform as them. Long robes, graduation caps affixed to their heads. They're lined up behind a stage, the curtain stained the dark sapphire of a night sky and dotted with sparkling stars.

Crowley's voice drones from the other side, amplified by a microphone. A waiting crowd murmurs appreciatively as he crows on about hard work, congratulations, and new beginnings.

"See?" Grim winks at his minion. "What'd I tell ya? Anything’s a cinch with my magic~”

"Great going, archmage-in-the-making. You really saved our butts," they say, ruffling his fur. “Come to think of it, were running late for our first day too… and the sorting ceremony before that. I guess we’re destined to be tardy together, huh, Grim?”

"Heh, you got that right!" He bumped his tiny fist with his partner's. “Let’s keep at it, you ‘n me! Grim-sama and his loyal minion, together forever.”

"Oiiiii! Grim, Prefect!!"

"Oh, that’s..."

They glance up, finding a group of boys making their way toward them in the crowd. One with a heart etched onto his face, the other, a spade. A wolf beastman, another with reptilian eyes and slicked back hair, trailed by a smaller, delicate boy and an android with a head of blue flames. Old friends from the other dorms.

"There you are. We thought we'd missed you." Deuce calls out, looking relieved.

"Idiot, we wouldn’t have missed them—you worried for nothin’. They're first on the chopping block cuz they're sooo special." Ace rolls his eyes. "Lu~cky. You get to show off and hog the spotlight before anyone else does.”

"We um... wanted to come and say good luck," Epel offers. "It's a big deal to have made it this far. Starting a new life in an unfamiliar world and all, it's a lot."

"Thanks, everyone. I really couldn't have made it these past few years without your support."

"Ah-HEM!" Grim coughs.

"... And Grim," the prefect added, scratching him behind the ears.

"This is really it, then." Jack is blunt, his arms folded. "Our last chapter at Night Raven College."

"Hmph! Is that all you have to say?! Surely you can muster up more oomph than that!! Today is not just that--it is the start of the rest of our lives." Sebek straightens, looking rather proud.

"Hmm..." Ortho taps at his chin contemplatively. "You know what? When words are not enough to express ourselves, action may be the next best thing!"

"... Wait, what exactly are you suggesting?" Ace asks suspiciously, an eyebrow raised.

"A group hug! For one final sendoff."

Sebek is the first to protest, his voice cutting through loud and clear. "I refuse!! There is absolutely NO WAY I am engaging in physical intimacy with you humans!"

"Not so hot on the idea either."

Ace and Deuce warily stare at each other. "Not happening," they chorus at the same time.

"Well, if the others don't want to, then..." Epel trails off.

"Guys, shut up and group hug already," the prefect groans, throwing their arms around their friends. Reluctant grumbles round the group, but no one makes an active effort to peel away.

“GACK!!” Grim chokes out, crushed between everyone’s chests. When their bodies recede, he collapses, vision spinning, seeing stars.

“Hahah, looks like Grim got flattened like a pancake,” Ace jeers. “Still got it in ya to waltz on stage after that?”

“C-Can it!! Of course I do!” he snaps back.

The timing is opportune. Right then, Crowley’s speech reaches them, a summons.

“… We will now begin calling up our students to receive their diplomas, starting with Ramshackle Dorm.”

“Looks like that’s our cue, Grim.”

“Let’s get goin’!!”

The prefect steps back and passes one final look to their peers. People from many different places, many different backgrounds. United at last.

“Go.”

They do.

Clutching onto their graduation cap, the prefect races up the steps from the wings. Grim bounding along by their side. Every stride equal against the other’s.

Like shooting stars, they’ve come so far. They can’t go back to where they used to be.

When they emerge from the darkness, they’re hit with bright sunshine and stage lights. Spring is in full bloom, welcoming them with balmy weather and armfuls of flowers.

The headmaster beams from behind a podium, gesturing for them to approach. In his grasp, two scrolls secured with navy ribbons.

Their diplomas.

“Presenting Grim and the Prefect, our special students sharing the spot of Valedictorian.”

Grim squeals, soaked up the adoration. He waves at the audience, flashes silly poses for the cameras. The prefect laughs, prodding him along with their hands.

“Come on, let’s not stall the ceremony for everyone else.”

“One moment.”

A smallish figure blocks their path. It’s a young man with crimson hair and heart-shaped ahoge. He holds out his hand--and the prefect, stunned, takes it.

"Riddle-senpai. You've returned."

"Prefect. Grim." He politely greets them, shaking their hands in turn. "May the Queen of Hearts and her spirit of strictness guide you as you cross this threshold in life. Remain disciplined, and I know you will both achieve even greater things."

Riddle releases, and another seizes their hands. This shake is rougher, looser.

"Congrats, you survived four years at this place," Leona purrs. He wears less of a smile and more of a bemused smirk. "Persisted, like the King of Beasts did."

His duty done, he casually drops them. Azul elegantly ducks in, his grasp firm and tone professional.

"Fufu. What an honor it is to reunite like this. Your benevolence has done much to improve our dear Night Raven College. The Sea Witch would surely extol your generosity."

"Prefect, Grim!!"

Azul steps back with a bow, making space for the next person.

Kalim practically collides with them, excitedly yanking their hands up and down as he chatters. "So good to see you again!! Gahahah, you haven't changed a bit! I bet you're much wiser now though--maybe just as mindful as the Sorcerer of the Sands was!”

Behind him, someone clears their throat. Awareness hits him and Kalim gasps, letting go of the graduates.

"It takes considerable tenacity to arrive at this milestone,” Vil says, clasping the prefect and Grim’s hands in his own. Then, he smiles ever so slightly. “… Be proud, potatoes. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed by the Beautiful Queen.”

He steps aside, allowing a gloomy, hooded figure to replace him. Idia grimaces, shielding his eyes from the lights glaring down at him.

“Tch… Dragged me out here for this,” he mutters, keeping his clammy, pale hands shoved squarely into his hoodie pockets.

A pause—and Idia managed an anxious smile. “GG or whatever. I guess even an amateur can clear hard levels if they’re diligent enough. The King of the Underworld was a noob at one point too.”

(“Is that really the most encouraging thing you could muster?” Vil tuts from the sidelines.)

With that, Idia shuffles off, joining the other ex-dorm leaders.

“Nyahahah, it feels nice to be recognized~” Grim snickers.

“Well, I certainly hope you haven’t had your fill yet.”

A frigid touch comes upon the prefect and Grim’s hands. That voice, like sudden nightfall. They find themselves staring up at a colossal shadow with leering green eyes, scales studding their forehead.

"M-Myah?!” Grim’s fur stands on end.

“Even you came, Tsunotaro!!” the prefect gasps.

“I wouldn’t miss this ceremony for the world,” Malleus smoothly reassures them. “I wished to lend my support to my dear friends and send them off with my blessing.”

He raises his arms to the open sky. Bright blue, barely a cloud in it. Sunlight pouring down, framing the ceremony in a golden spotlight.

“The Thorn Fairy’s utmost value is nobility. As you of the new generation sally forth into the world, let your souls shine as noble and true as her own.“

Uproarious applause rises, cheering and clapping combining into one frantic melody. The flowers blush, swelling large and healthy with color. The sun itself seems to brighten too, the wind lifting in a joyous, effervescent song.

“Congratulations...!!”

“Waaaah, Tsunotaro made the whole world light up!” Grim cries, eyes sparkling. “Heheh, okay, that’s a pretty good one—but watch out cuz one day I’ll be one of the top 5 strongest, most charismatic mages too!”

“Fufufu. I look forward to that day.”

Malleus bends down, his lips puling back to reveal luminous teeth.

“May you never be apart,” he whispers, so quiet that no one hears. Then, more loudly, “Congratulations. I wish you all a happily ever after.”

“I dunno what you’re goin’ on about, but thanks for hypin’ us up!!” Grim grins from ear to ear. “Today’s definitely… the best day ever!”

“I’m glad of it.”

And may it remain that way, forevermore.

[4drianaaaa]

u should do hamzah and y/n meeting for the first time after being online “friends” and one thing leads to another if yk what i mean

ohhh ur a genius and I just know Hamzah would be so nervous and obnoxious AH

Skin 2 Skin | Hamzahthefantastic

cw; nsfw 18+ , & fem reader!

🤍: you looked at the window outside your Uber as you looked at the dusk sunset of the Toronto sky eager to finally meet the only person you came to this party/trip for, Hamzah

You and Hamzah have been friends since last year and would almost every night be on FaceTime or on call just listening to each others presence. You liked him a lot. And you’d often think about how things would be if you dated but obviously you always thought he just liked you as a friend and flirted with you just to not make him seem like an asshole. Obviously he likes you too.

He’d always space out to you yapping to him as his thoughts wondered into both of you living in the same apartment and him just wanting his hands all over you.

You anticipatedly hoped out of your Uber and into your hotel. You smooth sailed through the reservation desk as you entered what would be your new home for the next week. You finally got a message from the host making sure you got picked up and were in your room.

Half-a-hour later

You finished up your makeup and sprayed some perfume as you were now out the door into another Uber. This time the traffic caught up and you were gonna be a couple minutes late,

“Ya from here?” Your Uber driver questioned “hm, um no. Im just visiting friends!” You replied as he nodded his head “yeah the traffic gets bad here, especially in Toronto.” He added as you scoffed “I could tell”. After a couple small convos you finally made it to the house. You called Hamzah to walk you in the party.

“Hello? Are you okay? Are you here?” He yelled through the phone “yes I’m here- come outside it’s cold” you said as he hung up, you looked up as you saw him standing there. Your pupils expanded as you noticed how taller he was in person, how his curls laid perfectly around his hat, and how he would easily tower you. “Hamzah!” You exclaimed running towards him as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your waist carrying you off the ground because of the height difference “you’re so tall! You looked so short on camera” you teased as he pat your back “whatever” He rolled his eyes as his stomach fluttered with butterflies just talking to you in person “okay get off me now” you said jokingly as you pushed him off of you “you know you love me y/n” he smirked as you thanked the amount of blush on your cheeks was covering the actual heat radiating off of your face “okay let me meet Martin now, I’ve had enough of you” you followed him into the party.

After meeting Martin and Mandy and talking for what seemed forever you and Hamzah decided to leave the party a bit early and going to walk around the city a bit just to get to know it a bit better

“Why did you even come here?” He questioned “I don’t know I should have stayed at home huh?” You said sarcastically as he blew raspberry “just say you wanted to come see me” he smirked “this is not rizz” you laughed “oh you wanna see rizz?” He joked “NO” you walked away from him as he chased you and wrapping his arm around you

You agreed to meeting Peter at Hamzah’s apartment as well as stealing a jacket or two just to survive in the chilly Toronto weather, he unlocked his door as he opened the door for you. He showed you around his apartment as he led you to his room scanning through his hoodies.

You were now laid on his bed as one of your legs hung from the edge of his bed. You looked at how his fingers slid through the hoodies and how his figure was huge, you bit your lip at the things you’d do to him as you squeezed your legs together trying your best to achieve some sort of friction. You couldn’t help but call his name “Hamzah-“ he cut you off “I got these two” he said setting the hoodies beside you, you fought over the fact you just wanted to tell this man how you felt about him. How you enjoyed conversations with him and how you wished for this day to come and just confess your feelings “what’s wrong? Are you okay?” He questioned sitting beside you as you sat up “Hamzah, I don’t know if this will ruin us but- I really like you, like a lot” you looked at his pink lips as they spread into a smile “I’m glad Im not the only one- I like you too.” He placed his hand on your thigh that slowly rode up to your waist, you looked down at his hand and back to his eyes and lips

His lips crashed into yours as you felt yourself getting hotter by the minute

He slid his hand up to your waist as you placed your hand on the side of his face. Your small groans and moans made his pants grow tighter as your lips parted from each other, “I- wanna keep going? I can stop if you want.” He panted as you nodded your head as you nipped at the apple of his cheek “I really want you inside of me please Hamzah” you whispered into his ear as he laid back onto the headboard of his bed as you crawled on top of him feeling how hard he was just by making out with you “fuck- you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do this” he whimpered as you took off your top leaving you in your bra as he practically drooled “then show me” you smirked as he kissed your exposed chest leaving passionate hickies all over your neck and chest. His hands traveled all over your back as he unclipped your bra as his eyes immediately turned to yours asking for permission as you nodded. He kissed your exposed tits as his tongue swirled around your nipple as you felt your self grinding on his lap “fuck!” You yelled as his hands slithered to your neck lightly gripping it, you felt your panties get wet as you ran your fingers through his curls

He picked you up and threw you under him as he left a trail of kisses down to your button on your pants. You impatiently watched him take your pants off slowly as you just him inside you. He throw your pants leaving you in your soaked panties as you turned red from embarrassment “mf-so wet” he licked his lips as he kissed your inner thigh “please, please Hamzah!” You whined as he giggled as his hot breath teased you even more.

He slipped the side of your panties off as the cool air sent shivers through out your whole body as you gripped on to the sheets of his bed. “Fuck y/n, you look so pretty from m’ere” he smirked as he kissed your wet dripping cunt making you curse under your breath. This man was sending you to a whirlwind of lust. His mouth did pleasures on your pussy as you felt yourself coming all over his lips and nose. “You taste so sweet baby” he licked his lips once again as his lips intertwined with yours. You tugged at his shirt wanting it off as he swiftly took off his shirt as well, he fidgeted with his pants as he slid off his boxers as well. Your eyes widened at the length of his aching member contemplating how he was gonna go all in on you. He pumped his aching cock as his spilling tip fondled over your heated core “you tell me when to stop. I’ll go slow ‘kay?” He grunted as you nodded as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he slowly entered inside of you causing you to already almost come undone as he was halfway down “how’s that?” He panted as your mouth widened “keep going”.

He finally thrusted into you fully as you dug your nails onto his back, “holy shit!” Your moans filled the room as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. His lips laid on top of you as his groans vibrated. You felt your self already riding your high as you panted under him with every thrust. “Want me to keep doing baby? Yeah?” He groaned as you whined under him. As you finally adjusted to his size he decided to start going faster as he repeatedly hit your spot “fuck- oh my god yes please Hamzah! Fuck” you left scratches on to his back, “yes! Fuck Hamzah I’m gonna fucking come!” At this point you didn’t care about the neighbors and how loud you were. You were seeing stars. “Yes baby just come all over my fucking cock like you’ve always wanted to- yes” he panted.

You came undone all over him as you felt his warm seed inside of you. He panted as he kissed your forehead “you did so good, so good” he groaned as he pulled out as your mixed come spilled out of you “how did we get here” you laughed as you covered your face with a pillow as he laid beside you “I don’t know but I don’t regret it” he teased as he laid on your chest slowly dozing off.

-

[webslingingslasher]

hi! I love the way you write. could you do something in which peter thinks he has no chance with reader as himself so he flirts with her as spiderman but eventually she finds out

*cleaning out my inbox*

sitting in a lawn chair on the roof of your building, spider-man sitting on the ledge, swinging his legs as he spoke, you listened to his rambling about an old woman he helped today.

it's been the dozenth time you've met up and talked, caught by him one afternoon when you were hiding away. you'd been healthy friends since, mostly surface value and mostly him venting, but this time was different.

spider-man didn't get personal, and you understood why, but since he didn't, you didn't. spider-man is talking animatedly but all you can think about is peter parker, sometimes life just wasn't fair.

you were caught when you didn't laugh with him at a joke, he tilted his head, 'you're quiet today, you doin' alright?'

you shrug, you feel emotionally numb.

'stuff at school, it's dumb. everything is dumb.'

spider-man adjusts himself, 'wanna talk about it?'

'i don't know, have you...' you pause to collect your thoughts, clearing your throat you start again. 'have you ever tried to make a move on someone but, like, telepathically?'

'uhhh...'

'ugh, i don't know. like, hey, if i stare at you enough and say 'ask me out' on a loop in my head, they'll catch the hint and do it.'

spider-man thinks about it, 'i think my version of that would be hey, if i avoid eye contact and pretend you don't exist, maybe you'll get a crush on me and ask me out, or avoid me forever. i'm okay with either.'

you laugh, you feel like he opened up to you, and he's the city's hero, maybe you can open up too.

'well, mine's name is peter parker and i'm pretty sure he has no idea i exist. i mean, not that i've actually tried to talk to him before, because he seems very nice but he also makes me super nervous and i think i would lose all ability to speak.'

spider-man has wide eyes, 'so, yeah. i guess when he didn't notice me for the millionth time today it clicked that the ship has sailed and i have to move on. shit sucks, dude.'

'no! no, no, no, you can't give up! he likes you too! i mean, what if he likes you too?'

'he doesn't know i exist, it's fine.'

'he knows you exist! i'd put money on the line he was doing that thing where he pretends you don't exist because he thought he had no chance or knew he'd fumble the bag so he deemed asking you out worthless!'

your eyes narrowed, 'i'm worthless?'

spider-man clutched the sides of his mask, his voice coming out squeaky. 'you're such a girl! you only hear one thing!'

'you called me worthless.'

'no, i said that i thought i had no chance and embarrassing myself just to get rejected would be a terrible waste of my time.'

you should be more focused on his switch from third to first point of view, but you crossed your arms instead.

'so... i'm a waste of time?'

spider-man groans, it's dramatic. in one motion in tugs his mask off and peter parker revealed.

'you're not a waste of time,' he gestures between yourselves, hinting at all the hours you've spent together, 'obviously.'

'and i'd really, really like to take you on a date.'

you hum, 'is this the part where i avoid you forever?'

a shy smile, 'i hope not.'

[jammingjaem]

dream store

15. my music career is saved

PAIRING | lee haechan x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS | rising up in the music industry as a young songwriter and producer, you wouldn’t think that you’d get hired by sm entertainment and write a song for your favorite group. although there was one downfall: you don’t think making music makes you happy anymore. but the endearing and charismatic lee haechan has swept you off of your feet. and here you’re asking yourself— what are you waiting for in life?

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the han river, haechan and y/n sat side by side on the riverbank, watching the boats glide effortlessly across the water. the city lights reflected in the gentle ripples, creating a serene atmosphere around them. they had been there for two hours, lost in easy conversation and comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company.

for haechan, these moments with y/n were precious. he had been courting her for about three weeks now, ever since the release of "broken melodies," pouring his heart into both the music and his pursuit of her. each interaction, each smile exchanged, fueled his determination to win her over.

tonight felt different, though. with the tranquil setting of the river and the soft hum of the city in the background, haechan found himself hesitating. he had rehearsed the words countless times in his mind, but now that the moment was upon him, he couldn't shake the nervous flutter in his chest.

glancing sideways at y/n, he admired the way the city lights played across her features, casting her in a soft, ethereal glow. she seemed lost in thought, her eyes tracing the path of the boats as they sailed by. haechan took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do.

just as he opened his mouth to speak, y/n turned to him, her gaze meeting his. for a moment, they simply stared at each other, the unspoken tension hanging in the air between them. haechan's heart pounded in his chest, his words caught in his throat. but then, without warning, y/n broke into laughter, the sound light and melodious against the backdrop of the river. haechan blinked in surprise, his nerves momentarily forgotten as he watched her.

"something funny?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

y/n shook her head, still chuckling softly. "no, nothing. it's just... i can't believe you were about to ask me something, and then i looked at you, and you looked like you'd seen a ghost."

haechan felt a flush creep up his cheeks, embarrassment washing over him. he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "yeah, well... i guess i got a little nervous," he admitted, his voice tinged with self-deprecation.

y/n's laughter faded, and she regarded him with a warm smile, her eyes softening with affection. leaning closer, she rested her head against his shoulder, her hand finding his and intertwining their fingers together.

"it's okay, haechan," she said softly. "you don't have to be nervous around me. i already know what you were going to ask." haechan's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening in surprise. "you do?"

y/n nodded, her smile widening. "yeah. and the answer is yes." for a moment, haechan could only stare at her, disbelief washing over him in waves. but then, as her words sank in, a wide grin spread across his face, his heart soaring with joy.

"really?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. y/n nodded again, her gaze steady as she met his eyes. "really. i'd love to be your girlfriend, haechan."

haechan's heart swelled with happiness, and he couldn't help but pull her into a tight hug, holding her close as he whispered words of gratitude and affection into her ear. and as they sat together by the han river, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, haechan knew that this moment would be etched into his memory forever as the night he finally found the courage to ask y/n to be his.

as y/n leaned against haechan, she felt truly content. with him there, she rediscovered her love for making music come alive again. haechan didn't just win her heart; he brought back her passion, making her life feel whole and inspiring her every day. she was grateful for his love and the joy he brought into her life.

previous | masterlist

AUTHOR’S NOTE | she’s finished omg?? thank you guys for reading and staying until the end?

TAGLIST (closed.) | @celestialsluvrs @cosmicwintr @suzayaaa @polarisjisung @lovefolder @jinsoul-gf @fullsunahceah @renjunniex @wonkivrse @en-gelic @tywritesstuff @jenodreamer @haechansbbg @miyawwn @n0hyuck @222brainrot @ur-purin @dinonuguaegi @replayenthusiast @i6renj @giaccolo @nanawrlds @multifandomania @jeongintwt @luv4jeno @lelengerine @gomdojun @yeppietennie @jaeimjaemin @thisisnotjacinta @hugs2doie @mystverse @jjaeyuns @rksbae @x-jaehyunluvr-x @bunchofroses07 @darlingz99 @yv72s @lixizpixi @ggukkiedae @cupidsmoons

[ladyvertewithenvy]

Savanaclaw Headcanons

𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦

Genre: Romantic and/or Platonic

Characters Included: Jack Howl, Ruggie Bucchie, and Leona Kingscholar

Prompt: Just some headcanons I made originally for my little sister. They're revamped for a wider and mature audience.

Slight warning: My headcanons include a variety of song selections. Not all are appropriate. So listen to them at your own risk and choice.

(Edit: The orange ones were what my best friend recommended)

𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦

.°˖✧ Jack Howl ✧˖°.

𓃦 Relationships? Pfft! Never!..

(Yes he would, he’s a liar. Even the game admits that he’s a tsundere that can’t keep up with the bit. So let’s dissect that a little)

(According to Jack, wolf beastmen normally have one person that they consider their special someone. Only, because they mate for life and are never apart no matter what. Because Jack is confident that he will have that sort of life in the future, he’s not actively seeking someone.)

(In other words, he’s completely okay with the concept of love. He just doesn’t necessarily follow modern dating culture. Not only that, but he’s fine with no getting much romantic attention. Which means, hope you’re patient, because this is the slowest slow burn to ever slow burn)

𓃦 He’s a very sweet guy towards you.

An utter gentleman that does his best to make sure you’re happy, safe, and most of all comfortable around him. This isn’t how he looks up to Ruggie and treats him also like a higher up. This is different, because for his special someone, it’s more. Which is why he goes beyond the limit that he sets himself.

You’re thirsty and want a specific drink? He’ll sprint to Sam’s Shop (which just so happened to be on the other side at the academy) and hand it to you with a happy tail wagging. Do you need a hair tie? Well, he just Happened to have a scrunchie in his bag. Totally not because he bought a small scrunchie packet for you in case you forget yours. It’s raining and there’s a puddle? Well, he doesn’t have a jacket- so he’ll have to just throw himself on the puddle. That one was a bit of an exaggeration, but you get it. He’s not going to hide how much he cares about. Because he sees no reason to. You’re his forever.

𓃦 His nickname for you

He doesn’t like most flowers. Mostly because they’re usually too smelly and strong smells give him a headache. But he does like most plants, especially his cacti. His nickname for you could be flower. Because for him, it’s one of the few flowers worth protecting, and worth having so close.

𓃦 His love language(s)

His love languages are touch and words of affirmation. As much as he’ll deny he doesn’t enjoy it, it’s hard to believe anything he says when a good hug gets his tail wagging, you know?

𓃦 Part of the family? Of course!

While it may take a while for the two of you to get together, it's undeniable how inseparable you two have become.

Every summer, once you two are actually together, he’ll take you to his home to meet his family and go sailing with his little siblings. For him, it’s nice to have someone his age. It makes looking after his little siblings a lot easier.. Not to mention that it’s unapologetically domestic. Which makes his aspirations for a love like his family seem all the more reachable.

𓃦 Songs Jack could listen to:

✓ Whoomp (There it is!) by Tag Team

✓ Who Let the Dogs Out? By Baha Men

✓ Pump It! By The Black Eyed Peas

✓ My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark by Fall Out Boy

✓ Phoenix by Cailin Russo

✓ Enemy by Imagine Dragons

✓ Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

𓃦 Songs that make me think of Jack:

✓ Running with the wolves by Aurora

✓ White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes

✓ Does the Swallow Dream of Flying by Cosmo Sheldrake

✓ Run Boy Run by Woodkid

✓ Hope by NF

✓ Guillotine by Jon Bellium

✓ Out of My League by Fitz and The Tantrums

.°˖✧ Ruggie Bucchie ✧˖°.

𓃟 Love? Yeah sure, why not?

Ruggie’s not against the idea of a relationship, he just doesn���t see himself in one any time soon because of all the trouble on his plate.

He doesn’t have a lot of free time. And he can’t pay for others when going out, he can barely pay for himself. I mean, this is the same guy who uses Leona’s hand me downs for school. You take a guess how much cash he has in his pocket.

Can’t really buy flowers or chocolates for someone he might like. But that doesn’t mean he won’t try to charm your socks off.

Ideally, he would like to be with someone understanding of his financial troubles. And doesn’t expect to completely bend his back over for them. Afterall, a relationship is supposed to be a two way street, right? He may not always have time for you because of his jobs or side hustles, but that sure doesn’t mean he won’t try and be there for you.

So what if he can’t give you some shiny roses for your anniversary? He can find some wild flowers in a field and give you a pretty flower crown just for you. It’s the thought that counts, right?

All in all, he wants someone supportive. Someone equally fervent on their goals and willing to be a sorta partner in crime.

No one’s perfect. And hey, you may not fit the bill. But make him happy. That’s the most important thing… and maybe buy him some donuts on his birthday if you can.

𓃟 He’s your backup!

Ruggie once in a while helps do your makeup for ceremonies. He’s not the most professional, but he had a part time job for it once. He knows how difficult it can be to fix yourself up for events. He’ll carry any emergency makeup in his pockets or bag, since he knows you well enough that you might need a touch-up midway.

Things like that are stuff you really appreciate. Because it's not just makeup.

Sometimes it's snacks he made for when you're hungry (which you two are both definitely sharing). Sometimes he keeps your sunglasses for certain occasions.

In other words, if you're a little bit of the forgetful type, he's got you covered. Don't worry, he likes being helpful. And besides, you'll never be as bad as Leona when it comes to taking care of you.

Caring for you is a choice. And a choice he doesn't regret doing. You're worth the trouble, a lot more than you think.

𓃟 You’re his cheerleader!

He’ll happily admit that he enjoys it when you cheer him on during practices and games. It’s so different now that you’re around. Before, he played for the possibility of getting a scholarship, or getting noticed by any companies that are recruiting more players… but now he plays so you can cheer him…. AND because of money. So it’s a win/win!

𓃟 His nickname for you

Calls you deer on purpose. Because it sounds like dear, the affirmational pet name, and the animal. You’re not a lot like him. Much more of a goody two-shoes. He loves you all the same. It’s his nickname for you.

𓃟 He's kinda clingy

Hyenas are very clingy partners, especially the males (don’t hold me up on that). So, he’s openly pretty touchy. Holding your hand to walk you to class, hugging you after not seeing you all day. A lot of forehead kisses to assure you of things. But never too much. He cares about how you’re feeling more than anything. He’ll never push for anything more than what you want.

Speaking of touch, he despises it when you tug his tail. Please stop doing that. He knows it’s fluffy and stuff. You can brush, but enough with the pulling.

𓃟 His Love language(s)

His love language is acts of service and words of affirmation. He’s been told that he’s just a runt all his life. Forced to work twice as hard as the kids his age because he’s not privileged like everyone else. Sometimes a guy likes being told that he’s doing great. Or that he’s doing his best.

Acts of service is particularly his favorite because he doesn’t really have enough money to buy you most of the things you want. And any money he does receive from his jobs and side-gig is always used for his necessities. He barely has enough clothes for himself, let alone he has enough to buy you something you want..

He’s really grateful for the little things. When you fold his laundry, tend out the clothes, get in line for him at the cafeteria. You make the burden he carries a little easier. And he’s grateful for that.

Likewise, he does the same. Of course, you picked the worst tutor imaginable, but he does try his best to help you with homework. For you, he prefers preparing meals for you and ironing your uniforms in the morning. But this depends if you’re a morning person or not. If you’re a morning person instead, he’ll have your bed ready and your pajamas all picked out so that you can just slip them off and head straight to snoozing.

𓃟 Part of the family? Of course!

Once you two are together, he’s very happy to introduce you to his grandma. He knows that she’ll love you.

Sometimes he’ll wonder if his mom would love you just as much if she were alive. He doesn’t think about his parents often. But he knows that his relationship with you isn’t a regular one. I mean, who gives leftover quiches from scratch instead of flowers on dates? Still, he hopes he’s enough. That he’s doing enough for you. It would suck if he wasn’t. If there really was a wish that could come true from his heart… He’d wish for a high paying job, and for handmade bouquets to stop being so out of his budget.

𓃟 Songs Ruggie could listen to:

✓ Lose Yourself by Eminem

✓ Where this Flower Blooms by Tyler, The Creator

✓ Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar

✓ Fuck Da Police by Dr. Dre

✓ Cash In Cash Out by Pharell Williams, 21 Savage, Tyler, The Creator

✓ redrum by 21 Savage

✓ HISS by Megan Thee Stallion

𓃟 Songs that remind me of Ruggie:

✓ Prrrum by Cosculluela

✓ Arcangel: Bzrp Sessions Vol. 54

✓ Tango del Pecado by Calle 13

✓ Rompe by Daddy Yankee

✓ Delincuente by Tokischa, Anuel AA, Nengo Flow

✓ Soy una Gargola by Alex Gargolas, Randy

✓ Chambea by Bad Bunny

(Edit: My best friend and I have claimed him as the honorary latino in the group. Sorry not Sorry.)

.°˖✧ Leona Kingscholar ✧˖°.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Love? Ugh

This walking ball of sass barely has a single romantic bone in his body. If he can somehow find a way to kill the mood of a romantic night where all the stars are out, then yes, he kills his own chances at love because he probably thinks something stupid along the lines that he seldom deserves it.

Something like, what self-respecting lady (or gentleman or in-between) could ever want something as pathetic as him.

However, as self deprecating and difficult as this man can get, I don't think he's utterly against the concept. Simply apprehensive. It's not just a slow burn. It's a slow burn where you gotta learn how to make the damn candle first with this one.Not to mention that he's gonna be questioning for most of it once he realizes how much he softened up for you.

For Leona, you just need to be patient.He doesn't need to love himself first to love you. He just needs proof that your love for him won't disappear after the hard times. (In other words when he's being the most difficult)

He'll return that love in full once he sees it's worth of shot.

Just make him feel he's worth a sacrifice. And what better way than simply giving him your heart?

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ His nickname for you

If you’re shorter than him, he’s calling you little mouse. Not just because you’re shorter, but because of how much you meddle and have enough guts to seek him out the way you do. The nickname also stems from Aesop’s “A Lion and the Mouse”

The story is about a mouse that pleads for his life against a lion. The lion, being amused by the idea of a defenseless creature like the mouse helping, laughs at the idea and releases him. By the end of the fable, it’s the mouse that saves his life when he gets caught in a huntsman’s trap.

Leona sees this sort of relationship between you and him. Being able to spot each other in different situations. He may never verbally admit it so easily, but he does have a tender spot for you in that dumb rock in his chest he calls a heart. Which is why he gets annoyed if you’re ever too insecure of your own abilities. He knows what you’re capable of. So it’s irritating when you don’t.

“Really herbivore? This song and dance again? Hard to believe this is the same little mouse that helped in defeating me back in the Magical Shift tournament.”

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Not the nicest sharer

Despises sharing his food, but will act none the wiser when you sneak a bite from his plate. It’s gutsy. As long as you try to be discreet, he won’t tell.. Much. Just don't be surprised when he does the same with little apology.

It’s not just food either. He’s just very territorial with most things.

You of course are included. The moment he sees someone in his peripheral vision giving you enough of hard time that it’s causing a racket, then suddenly your problem is also his problem

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ You wanna scare him? Hah!

Good luck trying to scare this hardass. His senses are too sharp for that. So it’s really hard to actually get him scared. Leona’s capable of even sensing someone watching several clicks away. But, since it’s you, if you try to scare him… he might just act a little bit. Maybe a little jump or a twitch to give you motivation. Lions do that for their cubs so they can have more motivation to improve their skills for hunting. It’s basically what he’s doing so that you don’t get all sour with him… even if he thinks it’s really funny how mad you get about it.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Personal Space? Never heard of her (According to you)

He hates it when you’re interrupting his naps. Cats need their sleep, you know? Not to mention they’re incredibly territorial of where they go, so he’s not too keen on sharing his secret spots. The only time he’ll be quiet about it is when you really need him. Say you’re emotional and you need an ear to listen to your woes. He’ll be incredibly grouchy, but he’ll listen and give you the advice you need. Always…. And then ask you to get the heck out of his spot before Ruggie catches him.

Ironically though, if he’s feeling the mood, then he’s gonna invade your room and lay down without a single word. He likes your space. Because it’s you.

Still a hypocrite though.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ His Love Language(s)

His love language is quality time. Spending time together, playing chess, taking a nap, reading. That’s what he likes the most. As long as it’s together, he doesn’t mind all that much. He’s more of a listener than a talker anyways- just don’t go yapping for hours on end. He still has his short fuse, rest assure you. It’s just that he’s a bit more patient with you.

Speaking of love languages, he likes gift giving. Specifically giving you the gifts. Doesn’t really matter what it is. If you’ve mentioned something you like, he might be inclined to give it to you… if you deserve it. As if he’s going to spoil anyone rotten just because… But don’t be too surprised when you’re fatigued after a very long day of hard work and he “coincidentally” gave you your favorite snacks and drink.

“Do you gotta make a big deal out of everything herbivore? I’m just giving you something to eat so you can keep working. It’s called being a good leader”

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Songs Leona could listen to:

✓ Be Prepared from The Lion King (but this is canon soo.. yeah)

✓ Leona doesn’t seem much like the type to listen to music. He’s too in his own head to really do that. As long as it’s not too pitchy or annoying, he most likely won’t care. Just don’t make it so boring he’ll fall asleep.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ Songs that remind me of Leona:

✓ Inertia by AJR

✓ THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND by Bad Omens

✓ DEVILISH by Chase Atlantic

✓ Nothing’s New by Rio Romero

✓ You Fuckers Were Asking for This One by Rav

✓ Skin Deep Comedy by Milli

✓ Forever Ended Today (Max’s Song) by mid

𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃟 ₊˚⊹♡ 𓃦

Author's Note

To read more fanfics, go to my list of fanfics (plus information about my page) here

Making these hcs killed me inside. They were supposed to be posted in August. But the amount of errors I had writing this on Tumblr made me want to dispose of this post entirely.

Regardless, hope you like them. Don't take em too seriously ;w; especially the Ruggie ones.

More fics to come.

Buenas noches

[luna-writes-stuff]

As Long As It’s Not About Love, Dean Winchester

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Fluff

Word count: 2141

Tw: Brief mentions of injuries/blood, spoilers for all SPN seasons, you get a dog (no excuses). Dean struggles to say ‘I love you’. Some pining, but it’s all resolved. This was written in an hour and you can tell.

Summary: The three times Dean wants to say the L-word, but he can’t. And the one time he does.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“From the first time we touched with our eyes Only magic could take away my heart. I am always afraid for my heart.”

For as long as you’d known Dean, you knew he could never say the L-word. You had known this when you became friends and you had known this when you became a couple. It never seemed to bother you. Friends around you had thrown it around like a casual thing, but Dean seemed to attach more meaning than most to that word. He never outwardly discussed it with you, but you knew it bothered him at times. It never bothered you, though. No matter how long the two of you had been dating, you found peace with his reluctance.

Dean, however, did not. He loved you - he knew he did, which was exactly why it bothered him so much. If his feelings told him one thing, but his mouth couldn’t voice it, where would that leave him?

He had tried to tell you. Many, many times. But there was always something, or someone that would interfere. More often than not, that was his own conscious.

“So lay beside me now and tell me lies, sweet lies. As long as it's not about love.”

The first time he almost said it, had been a sheer moment of fear. Hunting halfgods sometimes appeared to be more challenging than you were originally led to believe. He and Sam had sprung the perfect trap: you and Dean would serve as easy bait as Sam would try to sneak from behind. But plans always worked better in theory.

The god had been aware of your scheme, and had set his very own trap, leaving Sam unconscious on the floor the second he had opened the back door. Neither you nor Dean had enough time to react before you were both on the floor.

When you awoke, all three of you had been tied to a chair, your wrists bound tightly together, almost restricting the blood flow. Dean remembered all too well how he had felt that day. The halfgod had loomed over your figure, taunting and threatening you, almost enjoying the way the Winchesters reacted.

From the back of your chair, you managed to clumsily reach Dean’s hand, clinging to it tightly. When he felt it shake within his own, he would have whispered any words to comfort you, but there hadn’t been much else he could besides show the same stone cold expression, not daring to let the god know he had been pushing all the right buttons.

“Shall we sail off the edge of the world? Fall forever and never look behind. But I must keep my heart from my mind.”

It was when you finally returned to the motel after slaying him, that reality began to dawn upon him. You had been frightened that day - mortified. And there was nothing either of you could do besides watching it happen.

When it took you longer than usual to get out of the bathroom, he had entered the room and found you upon the floor, your head in your hands as you silently wept out all the left-over stress. He had sat down on the floor beside you, not saying anything. His arms wrapped around you as he forced you into his hold, his embrace grounding you as you found yourself slowly coming back down to Earth.

The blood on his shirt was a rude interruption to your eyes. Where calmness had finally begun to settle in, you now found yourself reliving it again. Your sobs grew harder again as Dean began to gently shush you, his fingers tracing figures on your back.

Mumbles of desperation escaped you without full context, and - though he had no idea what you were saying - Dean knew you were trying to make everything make sense in your head. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” He muttered into your hair. “I…” His breath hitched slightly, a dawning feeling settling in his stomach.

He couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Lay beside me now and tell me lies. As long as it's not about love.”

The second time was after Dean came back from the post-apocalyptic dimension. You had stayed behind with Rowena, watching over Lucifer. Rowena had insisted she didn’t need the help, but Dean would rather have you safe in the bunker than possibly stuck in a world where angels ran haywire.

When Lucifer had shown up on the other side of the portal, his blood had almost run cold. First, he lost Sam - who eventually came back -, then Lucifer would be terrorising Jack, and to top it all off, the devil loved to boast about how terrified you were of him.

In truth, you had kept yourself standing for quite a while. You had almost gained his respect for it. But you were still a mortal, and you stood no chance against an archangel. Not even a fallen, half-fuelled one. Not when he was pissed.

Rowena had cast him out before he could deal any severe damage, so the words he had spoken to Dean had been nowhere close to the truth. He hadn’t gutted you, tortured you or put your head on a spike. Dean hadn’t truly believed all of his words either, but they chilled him to his core nonetheless. There was no easy way to check up on you; nothing would soothe him but perhaps his own mind. And it caused a terrible distraction to him in the whole escaping plan.

“Oh, the last time we touched with our eyes And the magic was stronger than the heart. Oh, I can't run away with my heart.”

When Dean finally resurfaced, he was met with your bloodied face, a hasty plaster just beneath your left eye. Confusion was evident on your face, but he dismissed it. The people behind him could be introduced later.

His bag immediately fell to the floor, a heavy sigh escaping him as he walked towards you in three long strides. His arms wrapped around you tightly, squeezing your back as his head fell in the crook of your neck.

“You’re safe,” He uttered, swallowing down the urge to let out a choked cry. “You’re alright.” His hands rose to your cheeks as you parted, his eyes staring into yours with relief. A comforting kiss was placed upon your lips as he revelled in the feeling of your warm hands covering his. You were alive - you were well.

“I…” Again, that dreadful feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. Your eyes showed empathy; you knew. He didn’t have to say it. He wanted to. He just couldn’t.

“I missed you so much.”

“So lay beside me now and tell me lies. As long as they're not about love.”

The third time was during Chuck’s impending doom situation. Worlds had already been destroyed, and you knew it was just a waiting game now until yours would be next. You had lived through apocalypses, dimensions and times, but impending doom had been your worst experience thus far. There was nothing you could do to stop it. Sam and Dean were adamant and stubborn, always ready to fight, but even now they began to see that perhaps, this truly had been the end.

“So, what’s next?” Sam sighed, multiple papers strewn on the table in front of him. You and Dean sat on the other side of him, a bored expression on both of your faces. “I hate to be the one to say this,” You sighed. “But I think acceptance is really all there is now.”

You felt Dean’s eyes turn to you. “Really?” “Yes, really, Dean.” You clarified. “We’re fighting God. We can’t win that one.” “We can’t just give up.” “Then, what do you suggest we do?” You shouted, all pent up frustration suddenly tumbling out. “Bring him a gift basket with a note ‘please, don’t kill us’? Maybe he’ll show some sympathy!” You rose from your seat, the chair falling on the floor behind you with your movement. “We’re going to die! The sooner we accept that, the better! Makes it a lot easier.” Though the last part was mumbled, you were sure the guys heard it too. You didn’t want them to respond to it. You turned around, heading out the library towards your room.

“Sweetheart, come on!” Dean called after you, also rising from his seat, but you had already disappeared. Sam cast him an apologetic glance. “Ah, save it.” His brother groaned, taking off after you.

“Shall we sail off the edge of the world Fall forever.”

A soft knock was heard on the door before the knob slowly turned. “Sweetheart?” “Leave it, Dean.” You groaned, curled up on the bed, which you had almost forgotten you shared. “No,” He answered, before the door closed. A moment of silence fell over the room before the bed slightly dipped behind you. A hand gently made its way to your shoulder, placing comfort there.

“How do you find any solace in all of this?” You muttered, hugging a pillow closer to you. “I don’t.” He answered honestly. “But we can’t afford to stop fighting. If I did, I would have been dead ten years ago.” “You were dead ten years ago.” You countered. A chuckle escaped him at your remark. You turned your head at the sound, showing him a faint smile.

“We’ll keep fighting,” He returned, his voice equally hushed. “Until we fall down. We don’t stop fighting until we stop breathing.” His hand lowered over your arm, finding your hand instead. As his fingers intertwined with yours, he gave you a pleading look: “Please, don’t stop fighting. If we can get five more days, I’d like to spend them with you.”

You let out a low scoff at that. Not in annoyance, but in agreement. You brought your hands up to your mouth, placing a light kiss on the back of Dean’s hand. “I love you, Dean.” You whispered against it, your eyes looking up to look into his. “You don’t have to say it back.”

“Take my heart away but, no You can't say words about love.”

When he finally managed to say it, he didn’t even think of it. Where he had once tried to find proper words for every situation, he had now come to accept things as they were.

When Jack had brought everything back, you and Dean decided to take off on your own. Sam wanted to leave the hunting life behind, and after everything the three of you had been through, you completely understood him. And to your surprise, so had Dean. Both of you had settled into a typical white fence house, the occasional demon traps hidden under doormats and salt lining every window. But besides that, you seemed to have found somewhat of a normal life.

Much to Dean’s demand, you had gotten a dog, caring for it as if it had been a child. Walks were always shared together, a great way for both of you to get some exercise without having to hunt everything that hadn’t seemed relatively normal.

“If the magic comes between us And we never meet again. Take a part of me away.”

And that was exactly how he had found himself in that situation. On a bench in a dog park, sitting directly next to you, your head on his shoulder. He never thought he’d find himself enjoying a simple life, but there he sat, watching his dog run with the others while both of you sat in blissful peace.

“I was thinking of going to that new steakhouse downtown tonight.” You mumbled, a faint smile on your face as you felt Dean’s shoulders shift slightly with his laughter. “Bought some pie for when we get home afterwards.”

“That sounds amazing,” He groaned. “Good,” You laughed, looking up at him. “Because I already made the reservation.” A fond smile crossed his face as he leaned his head against yours.

“God, I love you.”

Your body tensed simultaneously with his as his words were spoken. Lifting your head, you gave him a surprised look, unable to suppress the grin growing on your face. Dean copied your look, a low chuckle escaping him as he processed his words.

“I do,” He reassured. “I love you.” You laughed at that, your hands falling around his shoulders as you brought him in for a hug. “I love you.” He repeated between kisses placed on your collarbones. Then, he kept you at arms distance, unable to deny a second laugh. A firm kiss was placed upon your lips - one you gleefully returned. “I love you.” He spoke again, placing a second kiss on your forehead.

“God, I love you too, Dean Winchester.”

“'Cause maybe it's all about love, love.”

[todorokis-girl]

Getting back with your ex? - Suna Rintarou (pt 2, Final Part)

(Part 1) After a painful breakup and years apart, Y/N and Suna Rintarou are forced to work together again in the world of professional volleyball. When an unexpected injury and a work trip to Okinawa bring them closer, unresolved feelings and old wounds resurface. Amidst professional obligations and personal turmoil, they must navigate their complicated past and uncertain future. Can they overcome their history and find their way back to each other, or will the lingering pain keep them apart forever?

masterlist

“You’re a kid, you know that?” I look up from my computer and stare at a very angry Suna standing at my door. I raise my hand signalling him to stop, as I was in the middle of a meeting. He tensed his jaw and closed the door, standing very menicengly by the door. 

I took a shaky breath turning back to my meeting “Everything we’ve discussed sounds perfect, I currently have a bit of a situation with one of my players; if we could re schedule?” The man on the other side nooded “I will tell my secretary” 

“What do you want Suna, I have work to do” I turned to him at the door, attemting to keep the intimidation at bay. With Suna that was impossible, there was nothing more intimidating than his precence when he was angry. 

“What do I want? Nothing really, just kind of noticed I’m the only one with the privilage of having the teams sports promoter as my media manager also” I stared at him as he walked closeer to my desk and placing both his palms on the surface of it “any reason for that?” 

“I asked Kuroo to take over some of the interviews if he could”

“Some? Y/N I’m the only one having meetings with him! Don’t you think that affects *my* media presence?” 

“Since when do you even care about your media presence at all Suna? A couple of weeks ago you insisted no one cared about that stuff”

“Well I care now” 

“Look, Suna, it’s nothing personal. Kuroo is just trying to help lighten my workload. I get it, okay? I get that this is difficult for you, but I have to do what’s best for the team.”

“Is that what this is about? Or is it about us?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

“There is no ‘us,’ Suna,” I replied firmly, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “That ship sailed a long time ago.”

He scoffed, his eyes flashing with anger. “Is that what you really believe? Or are you just too scared to admit that maybe, just maybe, there’s still something between us?”

“What do you want from me Suna? I gave you my high school years, my fist college years and you had no time *me*, now, I don’t have time for *you*” I retorted, trying to keep my emotions in check. “It’s not about you. It’s about doing my job and making sure this team gets the media coverage they deserve.”

He shook his head, his jaw tensing. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it, then we’ll keep it strictly professional.”

“Good,” I said, my voice tight with frustration. “That’s what’s best for everyone.”

He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving me standing there with a mix of relief and regret. I knew I had hurt him, but I couldn’t let my personal feelings get in the way of my responsibilities. I was already allowing it to take mor ethan it should, and having to admit that I was more hurt than I was willing to admit, I was still into him, I missed and damn it; I loved him. The acceptance of all of it drove me further down my rabbit hole than it should’ve 

I couldn’t help but replay our conversation in my mind. Suna had always been able to get under my skin, and today was no different. His ability to read me, and affect me continued as strong as ever and I hated it, I wanted to be over him and I wanted all of these emotions gone. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings and emails, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that things between Suna and me were far from resolved. I knew we would have to find a way to work together, but I wasn’t sure how long we could keep up this façade of professionalism.

As I drove home that evening, the events of the day replayed in my mind like a relentless loop. The tension with Suna had left me emotionally drained, and I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the pit of my stomach.

The sun had already set by the time I pulled into my apartment complex. I parked the car and sat there for a moment, gathering my thoughts before stepping out into the cool evening air. I made my way up to my apartment, unlocking the door with a heavy sigh.

Inside, I dropped my bag on the floor and kicked off my shoes. The place was quiet and still, a stark contrast to the chaos of the day. I headed straight for the kitchen, where I poured myself a glass of water, trying to calm my nerves.

As I stood by the kitchen counter, staring out the window into the darkening sky, my mind raced with conflicting emotions. I couldn't deny that seeing Suna again had stirred up old feelings. The memories of our time together in high school and the pain of our breakup still haunted me.

It may sound pathetic, but I always though Suna would be the end for, we’d get married one day and be togther forever. Everyone though so, even Kita though we were perfect together; and even Kita was surprised when he saw the first couple of articles assuming that Suna had cheated on me. The dozens of calls I got from our old teammates and family was overwhelming and it was aconstant reminder and even pain to me that Suna didn’t think of me the way I thought of him. 

I wasn’t special to him, and I had given him everything I had. It had been 5 years since our breakup and here I was still drowning in it all. 

I heard my phone ring and picked it up withough checking the caller ID, when I want to speak I noticed I had been crying “Hello?”

“Y/N? You ok?” I heard Atsumu’s voice on the other side of the call and I allowed myself a subtle smile “Atsu, I’m ok, what’s up?”

“Osamu is over visiting and says he wants to see you, feel like seeing him? I said you see me every day, so you might not want to see him” 

“I always wanna see Osamu, why can’t he be the one of the team? who’s going?” There was a subtle silence before he continued 

“Just the three of us, Suna said he needed some alone time” 

“then sure, I miss Osamu” 

I arrived at the cafe where we agreed to meet, feeling a mixture of nerves and anticipation. Seeing Osamu and Atsumu always brought a sense of comfort and familiarity, especially after a tough day like today and especially when they were together. As I walked in, I spotted them sitting at a corner table, chatting and laughing. Osamu looked up and waved enthusiastically when he saw me, and I couldn’t help but smile.

I saw Atsumu every day, sure, but I hadn’t seen him standing with Osamu in forever. From seeing them everyday for 3 years, to ocassionally was not ideal. 

“Y/N!” Osamu called out, his voice warm and welcoming.

I made my way over to them, the tension from earlier starting to ease. Atsumu got up to greet me with a hug, and I squeezed him tightly.

“Hey, Atsu,” I said softly.

He pulled back and looked at me with concern. “Are you okay? You seemed a bit off on the phone.”

“I’m fine,” I replied, trying to sound convincing. “Just had a long day at work.”

Atsumu gave me a knowing look, but didn’t press further. Instead, he gestured for me to sit down. Osamu scooted over to make room for me, and I settled into the chair gratefully.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” Osamu said, his voice full of sincerity.

“You too, Osamu,” I replied with a smile.

We spent the next couple of hours catching up, talking about everything from work to our old volleyball days. Osamu and Atsumu had always been like family to me, and being around them felt like coming home.

After a while, Atsumu excused himself to go to the restroom, leaving me alone with Osamu. He glanced at me with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Y/N, is everything okay with you and Suna?” he asked gently.

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything that had happened that day. “It’s....”

Osamu nodded in understanding. “He’s a good guy, you know. Just a bit stubborn sometimes.”

I chuckled softly. “Tell me about it.”

“He cares about you, Y/N,” Osamu continued. “plus, not to convince you; but Suna wasn’t always happy with his decision anyway, I can’t tell you whyhe did it, but I can tell you he didn’t like it”

I shook my head, feeling conflicted. “It’s not that simple, Osamu. I had my life planned with him, my career choice included”

“Sometimes messy is worth fighting for, one of you is gonna break, and I’m afraid of what it’s gonna be” he said quietly.

Before I could respond, Atsumu returned to the table, breaking the moment. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and shared memories. As we said our goodbyes and I headed home, I couldn’t help but think about what Osamu had said.

Osamu’s words echoed in my mind as I drove home from the cafe, the streetlights blurring into streaks of light against the dark canvas of the night sky. His concern and insight had struck a nerve, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions I had been trying so hard to suppress. My thoughts were a tangled mess, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on them. I had to pack an overnight bag for tomorrow’s grueling schedule. The first half of the day would be spent at the office in the training area, and the second half would see me on a plane to Okinawa as a favor to Kuroo. He had roped me into getting the team to agree to an interview on a local radio show.

The next morning, my stride into the gym was anxious and hurried. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Suna and the upcoming trip. I had already spent most of the morning buried in paperwork and drafting meeting notes for Kuroo to use in my absence.

“Coach! I just wanted to let you know I’ll be out for the week.” My voice carried across the gym as I approached him.

He turned from his clipboard and looked at me, giving me a soft smile. “Where will you be going?”

I tightened my grip on my bag and sighed. “Okinawa, and I hate that I’m going to such a beautiful place for work.” He nodded in understanding.

“Well, have fun,” he said with a chuckle. I laughed too, but before I could reply, a loud sneaker squeak followed by a heavy thump echoed through the gym. When I turned around, I saw Suna on the floor, clutching his knee.

“Oh my god.” I rushed over to him. He was writhing in pain, and my heart sank. This was bad, really bad. “Where’s Iwaizumi? He’s usually around, right?”

“I think he’s having lunch.” The response came from somewhere behind me, and I glanced up, my anxiety clearly showing. “Can someone, anyone, call him?” I turned back to Suna, watching helplessly as he continued to move around.

“Stop moving.” My voice wavered as I rummaged through my bag. I had never abandoned the habit of carrying first aid supplies, bandages, and sports tape from my managing days. They always felt essential.

It was taking me too long to find what I needed, and Suna’s constant movement was making me frantic. “Suna, stop moving.”

He didn’t listen. He needed to listen, or it was going to get worse. “Any news on Iwa?”

“He hasn’t picked up.”

Frustration boiled over, and I dumped everything from my bag onto the gym floor, creating a chaotic mess. “Suna. Fucking. Stop. Moving! You’re going to make it worse!”

I took a shaky breath, trying to calm myself down. Finally, I spotted the bandages and first aid supplies. I turned back to Suna, who looked up at me with worry etched across his face. This had the potential to be a career-ending injury or just a stupid sprain. The 50/50 split wasn’t comforting at all.

“You’re so lucky I still carry these around.” I carefully moved his knee pad off and applied balm to his knee. “This might hurt. I’m just gonna wrap it for support until Iwaizumi gets here, okay?” He nodded, and I proceeded to wrap the bandage around his knee.

If this hurt too much, it would make me worry even more.

Other than a couple of hissing sounds, he seemed to be relatively comfortable, the pain subsiding slightly. I sat back, watching him sit up, his eyes locking onto mine. There was a mixture of pain, gratitude, and something else in his gaze.

“You’ll be fine. It seems like a sprain, but Iwa can confirm.” He nodded again, his eyes never leaving mine.

A heavy silence settled between us, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions. His hand reached out, brushing lightly against mine. The simple touch sent a shiver down my spine, a reminder of the unresolved feelings that hung between us.

“Y/N...” he started, his voice soft and tinged with hope and regret.

Before he could continue, the gym door swung open, and Iwaizumi hurried in, his expression turning serious when he saw Suna on the floor.

“What happened?” Iwaizumi asked, quickly moving to Suna’s side to assess the injury.

“He fell during practice. I think it’s just a sprain, but I wrapped it for support,” I explained, stepping back to give Iwaizumi space.

Iwaizumi nodded, his hands already at work, gently examining Suna’s knee. I watched anxiously, biting my lip as I waited for his verdict. After a few moments, Iwaizumi looked up at me, a small smile of reassurance on his face.

“You did a good job, Y/N. It’s just a sprain. He’ll need to rest and ice it, but he should be fine.”

Relief washed over me, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. Suna’s eyes met mine again, and I could see the gratitude in his gaze. As Iwaizumi helped him up and guided him to the bench, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a turning point for us.

“Thank you,” Suna said quietly, his voice sincere.

I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through me despite the tension of the situation. “Just take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” he promised, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

As I turned to leave, Suna’s voice stopped me. “Y/N, wait.”

I looked back, my heart pounding in my chest. “Yeah?”

“When will you be back?”

I hesitated, but then I replied. “Saturday. Why?”

“I just….be safe” I nodded and smiled “I will”

Suna’s eyes softened, and he smiled faintly. “and, Thank you.

His words lingered in the air as I made my way out of the gym, the emotions of the day weighing heavily on me. The thought of Suna’s vulnerability and the unspoken feelings between us stayed with me, making it hard to focus on the tasks at hand.

The flight to Okinawa was uneventful, but my mind was anything but calm. The beauty of the island, with its clear blue skies and turquoise waters, was lost on me as I navigated the business obligations that had brought me here. Interviews, meetings, and endless conversations filled my days, but my thoughts constantly drifted back to Suna.

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. As the plane touched down and I disembarked, I felt a mix of exhaustion and anticipation. I was eager to see Suna again, to see if the hope I had felt was real or just a fleeting moment.

Back in Tokyo, the evening was cool and crisp. I made my way to the gym, my heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. As I entered, I saw Suna sitting on the bench, his knee still wrapped but looking much better.

He looked up as I approached, a small smile forming on his lips. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I replied, feeling a rush of emotions.

“How was Okinawa?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes intense.

“Busy,” I admitted. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He stood up, his movements careful. “I’ve been thinking about you too. A lot.”

We stood there for a moment, the weight of our past and the uncertainty of our future hanging between us. Finally, Suna took a step closer, his eyes searching mine.

The gym was bustling with activity as the team prepared for their Saturday practice, a regular session that the coach believed was crucial for team building. I watched as Suna’s expression shifted from hopeful to resigned. The energy of the gym, usually so comforting and familiar, felt stifling now.

As I gathered my things, I couldn’t help but glance back at Suna. His eyes followed me, a mixture of longing and regret evident in his gaze. The silent tension between us was palpable, a reminder of all the unresolved emotions and unsaid words that hung heavy in the air.

Arriving home, I dropped my keys on the kitchen counter and stared out the window, my mind racing with thoughts of Suna and our complicated history. I walked over to the living room, sinking into the comfort of the couch. The events of the day replayed in my mind like a movie on repeat. Suna’s confession, his tender touch, and the raw vulnerability I had felt in that moment.

But along with those memories came the weight of reality. Our relationship had always been a rollercoaster ride of highs and lows. The love we shared was undeniable, but so were the challenges that had torn us apart.

I pulled out my phone and stared at Suna’s contact, my finger hovering over the call button. Should I reach out to him? Should I take that leap of faith and give us another chance?

A soft knock on the door made me jump. I opened my eyes to see Suna standing there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He looked uncertain, vulnerable, a side of him I hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Can we talk?” he asked softly.

I hesitated, my heart racing. But then I nodded, stepping aside to let him in. Suna walked in, his gaze searching mine as if seeking reassurance.

“Look, Y/N,” he began, his voice sincere. “I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for. But I needed you to know that...”

He paused, taking a deep breath.

“I still love you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never stopped.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the tears well up again. His words echoed the longing in my own heart, the ache of our shared history.

“I love you too, Suna,” I confessed, my voice breaking. “But it’s not that simple.”

He nodded, his expression pained yet understanding.

“I know,” he said softly. “I messed up. I made mistakes. But I want to make things right, Y/N. I want to try again, if you’ll let me.”

I looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability and hope reflected in them. Despite everything, despite the pain and the uncertainty, I knew that Suna was the one I wanted to fight for. Our love had never been easy, but it had always been worth it.

“I want to try too,” I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks. “But we have to take it slow, Suna. We have to be honest with each other.”

He nodded, stepping closer and pulling me into his arms. I melted against him, feeling the warmth and familiarity of his embrace.

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he promised, his voice filled with determination.

And in that moment, as we held each other in the quiet of my living room, I knew that no matter what lay ahead, we were finally on the path to healing, together.

“Then, I need you to tell me,” I said softly, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. He closed his eyes, already anticipating the question he knew I’d ask. “Why did you do this? Osamu and Atsumu are sure you didn’t want to, so why?”

Suna took a deep breath, his eyes opening to meet mine. They were filled with a mixture of regret and pain. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.

“It was a mistake,” he began, his voice heavy with remorse. “Back then, I was so focused on my career, on making a name for myself. I thought I needed to sacrifice everything else, including us, to succeed.”

I listened quietly, my heart aching as he continued.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “I thought that by letting you go, I was protecting you from the chaos and uncertainty of my life. But I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away, his expression one of deep sorrow.

“I didn’t realize until it was too late how much I was hurting you, and myself. I missed you every single day, but I was too stubborn, too proud to admit it. I didn’t want to face the reality that I had made the worst decision of my life.”

I reached out, taking his hand in mine. His grip tightened, as if he was afraid I would let go.

“Suna, I...” I struggled to find the right words. “I was devastated. I felt like I had lost everything. But hearing you say this, knowing that you regret it... it means a lot.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with determination. “I know I can’t change the past, but I want to make things right. I want to be with you, Y/N. I want to build a future together, if you’ll have me.”

I looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and hope there. Despite everything, despite the pain and the years apart, I still loved him. And I believed in second chances.

“We’ll take it one step at a time,” I said softly. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Suna pulled me into his arms again, holding me tightly as if afraid to let go. I could feel the steady beat of his heart against mine, a comforting reminder that we were both alive, both ready to face whatever came next.

For the first time in years, I felt a glimmer of hope. We had a long road ahead of us, but as long as we faced it together, I knew we could overcome anything.

In the quiet of my living room, wrapped in Suna’s embrace, I allowed myself to believe in the possibility of a new beginning.

[andromedathelovely]

hiii i saw ur list and before requesting i just wanted to tell u we have so many fandoms in common slay!!!

okay now abt requesting: may i ask hcs of sanji with a balkan s/o please?

character headcanons PT. 1☽｡⋆

sanji x balkan!reader headcanons

rating: any!

warnings: n/a

A/N: hiii!!!! omg yayyy!! (that means we have the best taste) also thank-you for requesting, i was so excited to research Balkan traditions and culture and I hope I did them justice! I tried to be vague when picking a specific country to research, i took inspiration for the readers 'hometown' more from the countries that bordered the sea (Croatia, Bulgaria, and Albania!) I also took a bit of Greek influence, since through my research of the Balkan Peninsula, Greece sometimes was included (but also sometimes not lol). I also wanted it to be more 'Mediterranean'/Beach-y since i think that it would fit very well in the One Piece world. this is more of a before the reader and sanji get together headcanon list, but I can make another post with more headcanons too! i focused a lot on the food side of Balkan Culture since... its Sanji. i also tried to cite my sources, a big sorry to Henry Cavill since i used wikipedia so very much. but please enjoy, anon!!

100% fell in love with you at first sight

like, immediately after meeting you he started following you around your small coastal village like a lost puppy dog

i personally think at first he would just stare at you, not in a creepy way, but an in-awe sort of way

then he would shamelessly flirt with you, (AKA a little bit of 'something sweet for someone sweet')

for sure making the rest of his crew groan in annoyance, and roll their eyes

i'd imagine the reason he and his crew were in your hometown in the first place, was to anchor down and collect more rations and materials for the trip to the Grand Line

eventually, after a week or so of being in your village, Luffy would invite you to join his crew

and since you've always wanted to travel the world, you said yes but maybe it was also because of a certain blonde-haired cook?

i'd imagine Sanji would always be looking out for you once you all set sail, always making sure you are safe and whatnot aboard the Going Merry

days would be hot, and nights would seem like forever, but sanji's flirty nature and the other's hilarious chemistry would entertain you

you would spend hours conversing with sanji, sitting along barrels on the deck, watching the dark waves crash along the side of the Going Merry, the moon reflecting upon the waters dark navy sheen

he's a smoker (hot oml) so he would probably pull out a smoke every once in a while, but if you didn't like the smell, he would immediately put it out, frantically exclaiming his many apologies

sanji would definitely notice how much you missed your home and would try to cook some of your favorites

with only some rations (but enough) he would make you a plentiful amount of Balkan snacks, meals, and desserts

he would absolutely make the best tarator soup for hot days onboard, or dolmas made of squash, tomatoes, or cabbage (anything that would stay preserved below deck) ((yumm omg))

(also omg stuffed peppers, i know realistically they wouldn't have fresh meat on board but guys, i love stuffed peppers and him making stuffed peppers would make him so much more attractive to me)

i think he would definitely promise to make more of your favorite foods, once you returned to land

after a while of knowing each other, i think he would confess his feelings to you first, probably tired of being constantly dismissed as you would think he was jokingly flirting with you

(i know it took a long time for a confession, but who doesn't love a bit of banter and a chase)

things would probably be pretty much the same as before, but now he would definitely be more protective and want to spend most of his time with you

after battles with rival pirates, he would instantly be by your side

"are you alright, my love?"

"yes, i'm okay."

"are you sure? 100% sure??"

he would be a very very worried lover

sorry, i totally made this food-centered, and not exactly sanji centered lolll. I'm hungry now, Balkan foods look divine! xoxo <3

[sungbeam]

𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

demon!ji changmin x reader

birthdays have never mattered to him—until it was yours.

1.7k words, fluff, supernatural/demon au, minimal swearing, est. relationship au, a night terrors hc

read night terrors / peruse the collection post

a/n: continuing to expand their story for my own sanity :') istg i will go back to writing their snarky banter at some point (i just like soft romance 🤕)

JI CHANGMIN HAD ALWAYS THOUGHT OF BIRTHDAYS as insignificant, trivial matters. Perhaps that was because that was how he was raised to think of them as; hardly anyone in Hell cared for such a frankly human celebration of life. Even when he ended up on the mortal plane, he never seemed to fully grasp the concept.

There were always, within the couple years he knew your sister, days she would refuse to take on a client or work if it was your birthday. It could be the end of the world, and she would turn an adventure down to be at your side to celebrate your birthday. Despite being gone from home so often, she never failed to remember.

Maybe that was part of the reason he was freaking out now.

“What's all this?” He asked to the room as he munched on a blueberry pancake from the kitchen. When he walked into the pack house for breakfast this morning, he'd been greeted by the sight of Kevin and Jacob working together to string a Happy Birthday banner in the foyer. Balloons and streamers dangled and dazzled about the stair banister and around the walls. Lily had even recruited the little ones to help make about a thousand and one cupcakes.

Kevin and Jacob's heads both snapped over to him. “You're shitting me, right?” Kevin asked. Atop the ladder he stood on, he placed a hand on his hip.

Changmin blinked. “I know it's someone's birthday; I can see it on the banner.” He threw his free hand in the direction of said item.

Kevin and Jacob exchanged looks with each other. Jacob was next to speak: “Changmin, do you seriously not know who's birthday it is?”

“No, am I supposed to?”

“Did you guys say Yn likes the firefly lanterns or the sparklers?” Juyeon waltzed in through the front door with his arms piled full of a smorgasbord of lighting arrangements. He nearly dropped one of the glass firefly lanterns (currently devoid of fireflies, luckily), and he just managed to fumble it between his fingers before it hit the ground and shattered.

Why would he ask what you…

The dots snapped together.

“Shit.”

The night had swelled into a symphony of merriment and mirth. The party everyone had thrown for you had sailed smoothly, with Eric and Haknyeon having dragged you back from your hike through the forest only to return to everyone's welcome and well wishes. Along with lovely songs, so much good company and food, and a massive cupcake with a candle staked in its frosting, the night simmered out with music and games in the town center as always.

But by the end, your energy was fizzled out, and you found yourself shoving your face into the mass of a familiar body.

His chuckle was warm as he cupped the back of your head, cradling you and pressing something sweet to the side of your head with his lips. “Tired, sweetheart?”

“Mmh,” you hummed, eyes fluttering closed. After a long day full of activity and energy, it was time to recharge. The two of you stood upon the inn's front porch where you usually shacked up when you weren't on the road for Changmin's job. At some point, you figured you would settle down somewhere more permanent, but there was a part of you that figured your counterpart's skin crawled at the idea of putting roots down somewhere.

Forever was permanent and long, but you were patient.

You heard him—felt him—clear his throat above you. “You—you’re not super tired, are you?” But as soon as he said that, he seemed to backpedal. “If you are, then it's okay. You need the rest.”

“What is it, Changmin?”

“It's nothing, I—”

You pulled back from him and arched a brow high. “Tell me.”

He winced to himself, cupping the back of his neck. You hadn't seen him so nervous before. “I—” he huffed as if he was working up the courage to say something, “Can I show you something?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said with a nod. You offered out your hand to him with a cheeky smile on your face. “Where to?”

Changmin's eyes darted from your face to your extended hand, then back up to your face. He slipped his hand into yours, fingers interlocking until your entwined hands hung between your bodies. “Upstairs,” he said, inclining his chin in toward the inn.

So upstairs, you ventured.

Instead of splitting yourselves up into two separate rooms like the very first time, you both shared a bedroom at the end of the second floor corridor. It wasn't like Changmin slept much anyway, so most nights you got free reign with bed space.

You didn't know why your heart began kicking up in speed as you approached the door. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary—no cliché rose petals strewn over the path, no candle light coming from beneath the door. You didn't expect anything of that sort from him, and frankly, you would have been suspicious if you ever witnessed something of that sort from him.

Changmin still hadn't said anything when you opened the door and let yourselves in. The bedroom was dark with only the light from the courtyard outside streaming through the slitted shutters on the window. There didn't seem to be anything new for him to show you here…

You sighed, letting go of his hand so you could massage your temples with the tips of your fingers. “I'm glad I didn't drink a lot tonight,” you mused, “I think I'm gonna need to train my tolerance back up again or something.”

“Yn,” he finally said, voice low.

You turned to face him, eyes wide as they adjusted to the darkness better. “Yeah?”

“It's on the nightstand.” Changmin shoved his hands into his pants pockets and if you weren't mistaken, there was a jittery energy about him.

“Right, okay.” A part of you became giddy at the thought that he got you something for your birthday—because that was what this was, right? Of course, you neither expected nor required something from him; you weren't even aware demons knew what a birthday celebration was.

Yet, you moved toward your side of the bed, leaning over to twist the lantern on to give the room a bit of warm light. Just as he said, there was something sitting on the nightstand beside your phone and the lamp.

Your heart stopped clean in your chest for a long second.

It was a ring.

There was no studded jewel at its apex; it was a band made of a dark material that gleamed like the color of mercury in the light. There seemed to be some kind of engraving on the side, but from where it sat, you couldn't make out exactly what it read.

You suddenly didn't know how to use your hands. Your fingers froze midair, unable to decide what to do with what sat there, waiting for you, calling out to you, for you.

“Changmin—” Your fingers miraculously managed to thaw and carefully pluck the ring into your grasp. You swiveled on your foot to face him, holding it up. He still stood where he'd been before like his feet were glued to the floor. “What… what is this?”

The organ in your chest hammered so hard against your chest that your ears were filled with the sound of rushing blood.

He swallowed. His dark irises flashed in the dim lantern light and you crossed the room to stand in front of him again. “It's—it’s a birthday present.” Changmin unconsciously scratched his bicep then gripped his arm. “I don't really know how birthday presents work, but you know, it seemed like an important thing, so it must call for something important in return,” he murmured, now cupping the back of his neck and trying to avoid your eyes.

It was interesting seeing him so flustered and grasping for an explanation.

“And I remembered that I—” When he raised his eyes to meet yours again, they searched your face. He lost his voice for a moment, all sense of thought. You still didn't know what he saw there to make him pause. A sigh fell from his lips. “When demons are born, they're given a naming ring,” he said quietly. “The stone used adjusts to the wearer's finger, so it can be worn all throughout their life. I guess it's kind of like a birthday celebration, just at the beginning of our lives.”

He motioned to the ring in your possession. “That's… that's mine. My name's in Latin on the side.”

Your thumb ran along the grooves carved into the stone, and though you didn't know Latin, you would commit the feel of his name to memory.

“Why are you giving this to me if it's so important to you, hm?” You asked softly.

“You're important to me.”

And if only every question between two people could be solved with so simple, yet so powerful an answer. You were positively devastated. “Oh, Changmin—”

He was quick to add, “If you don't want it and it's weird, then that's fine. I—”

“Changmin.”

“Yeah.”

“I love it. Thank you.”

“Oh.”

A smile curled itself onto your face and you saw it slowly reciprocate on his. You held up your hand, inspecting your fingers and wondering which you should wear it on. “Y'know,” you murmured, “Sena told me that the jewelry on each finger represents something.” You couldn't remember every one specifically, but you didn't have to doubt either of the ring fingers. Though this was no wedding ring, your right ring finger would do nicely.

“What does that one mean?” He asked quietly as you slid the band over your chosen digit. The stone was cool and smooth to the touch, and it seemed to fit exactly right, just as he said it would.

“Not really sure,” you confessed as he took your newly adorned hand into his. His thumb immediately went to feel his name curled around your finger. “Something that describes what you mean to me though.”

The light in Changmin's eyes was tender, warm, happy. He cupped the side of your face with his hand and brought his lips to your head, mouth lingering there for a second longer. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

a/n: it's not an engagement ring, so don't look at me like that. i'm Not Delusional, YOU ARE— (for those who need to know, the right ring finger is love and trust :'))

night terrors fic / collection

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101

[mimisempai]

It's just a risk to take 2/2

Chapter Summary

The long-awaited evening is here. Will the feelings held back for years finally be revealed?

Notes

A little Human AU of them getting together

On Ao3

Rating G - 3279 words

Chap 1

On the night of the ball, they had decided to go their separate ways and meet at the front door of the complex where the reception hall was located. 

Aziraphale paced back and forth, waiting, for of course he was so excited and nervous at the same time that he'd arrived almost half an hour early.

"Oh, that tall man with the red hair, isn't that Mrs. Crowley's son?"

"Oh yes, he looks just like her!"

Aziraphale stopped dead in his tracks and followed the direction the two old ladies in front of him were looking. His heart leapt at the sight of Crowley, and then again at the bright smile his friend gave him when their eyes met.

Then Crowley walked toward him, quickly closing the distance between them.

God, he had missed him.

It had only been a month, but still.

"Hey."

Despite missing Crowley, it was all he could think to say as he found himself face to face with his dear friend.

It had to be said that the other man's appearance would have taken the wind out of anyone's sails. Crowley was a sight to behold under normal circumstances, but in a tuxedo he was simply dazzling, even when covered by a coat that rested on his shoulders.

"It feels like it's been forever."

His friend's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and Aziraphale nodded.

"For me, too."

An unfamiliar expression crossed Crowley's face as he leaned in before saying, "Then I think the circumstances deserve more than a nod of the head, don't you?"

Aziraphale didn't have time to react as his friend leaned in closer and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

Okay. Now it was certain that Aziraphale would not survive the evening.

As Crowley straightened up, Aziraphale felt a slight burn where his lips had rested, but he didn't have time to think about it because his friend had grabbed his arm and was dragging him toward the entrance.

"I must say, I was pleasantly surprised that you accepted my invitation so easily."

Aziraphale chuckled softly.

"Not as surprised as I was at your invitation. Pleasantly surprised, of course." He smiled and received a sincere smile of relief in return. Perhaps he wasn't the only one with doubts.

"I think all this ridiculous fuss is our goal."

Crowley led Aziraphale to the glass doors that opened onto the reception hall. Aziraphale marveled at the decor, expecting the usual autumnal touches, but in fact it was all tastefully done, there was something enchanting about the decor, and it all served to give the atmosphere an intimate note, which was not to the bookseller's displeasure.

"Anthony, there you are. Welcome, Monsieur Fell."

Though in a different way, Crowley's mother was as beautiful as her son. Aziraphale shook her outstretched hand in greeting before saying, "Please call me Aziraphale, Mrs. Crowley."

"You are adorable, call me Lilith. You deserve it for being the one who brought that big idiot here."

"Mother!"

Aziraphale laughed slightly as Lilith added, "It really is a pleasure to see you both. Make yourselves at home."

She leaned over to Aziraphale and whispered in his ear, but so that Crowley could hear.

"I'm really infinitely grateful to you, because not only did you get him to come, but he's smiling."

"Aziraphale, would you like a drink?"

Crowley had interrupted his mother, pulling Aziraphale away before she could say the word. Which didn't keep him from feeling his mother's amused gaze on his back.

With a hand on Aziraphale's lower back, he pushed him toward the dining area. A waitress appeared and took their coats, and once they were near the buffet, sipping their appetizers, Aziraphale asked hesitantly, "Your mother calls you Anthony. I've never thought to ask you in all this time, but what would you prefer?"

"You want to call me Anthony?"

It was just like Crowley to answer one question with another, knowing that Aziraphale was afraid to ask him directly what he really wanted.

Aziraphale swallowed and then said quietly, "I would like to... Anthony."

He saw his friend gasp, but had no time to analyze the situation as his gaze was drawn to a group of old ladies who were watching them, murmuring and giggling.

Crowley, who had followed his gaze, leaned over and said, "These are friends from my mother's bridge club. She must have alerted her whole group to tell them I was coming and that I was coming with someone."

Aziraphale turned to him and, raising an eyebrow, said, "Is this really the first time... well, I mean that..."

"I've never had a relationship serious enough to introduce to my mother."

"Oh..."

Aziraphale raised his glass to his lips to compose himself, trying to ignore the storm of questions his friend's words had unleashed. Their eyes met for a long moment and Aziraphale searched desperately for something to say, but the spell was broken when someone nudged him awkwardly and he almost dropped his glass. 

Then Lilith's voice rose over the gathered crowd.

"Welcome, my friends, to the fifth edition of this Autumn Gala. As you all know, for the past five years this gala has raised funds for the local homeless shelter. Enjoy the music and dancing once our musicians arrive, and the little surprise that awaits us all as night falls. In the meantime, savor the banquet and the feast.

"I suggest we wait until the first wave has passed," Crowley whispered in Aziraphale's ear.

Trying to ignore the shiver that Crowley's breath on his neck had caused, Aziraphale readily accepted and let himself be pulled to one of the tables, which was in a quieter corner than the rest of the room. Once seated, they watched the people come and go, eager to enjoy the buffet, Crowley making Aziraphale laugh with his sarcastic comments about the people passing by.

Eventually, the crowd dwindled to a small line, and they both quietly filled their plates before returning to their table, eating while watching the other guests and chatting in the easy manner of two friends who had known each other for a long time. Lilith wandered between the tables, chatting with a small group here and there in perfect hostess fashion. At one point, she spotted them and made her way toward them, but one of her friends stopped her by whispering something, so she smiled briefly and simply waved from a distance.

The musicians arrived, and Aziraphale noted with astonishment that it was a full orchestra. Crowley chuckled at his stunned expression.

"For as long as I can remember, my mother has tended to do things big, no matter what the occasion."

Then, stealing a petit-four from Aziraphale's plate, he added, "Although this gala is far more entertaining than any I've attended."

Aziraphale couldn't help but retort, "It must be the company." 

"Absolutely."

Crowley's gaze was incredibly direct and open as he continued, "But I'm still surprised you didn't have anything planned, considering I caught you a bit off guard."

"Aside from nights at the Dirty Donkey with the girls and Muriel, I don't get out much. The theater once or twice, but that's about it."

"Alone?"

"Most of the time."

"Ah?"

"Is this an interrogation?"

Crowley replied sheepishly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

Aziraphale smiled and reassured him, placing a hand on his forearm, "I'm kidding. When I'm not alone, I'm with Muriel. Although now that they have a boyfriend, Eric, they come with me much less. And I don't blame them."

Aziraphale looked dreamy as he added, "It must be nice to have someone like that..."

Blushing slightly, he coughed before continuing, "Anyway, most of my evenings are spent in my armchair with a good book or some good music."

Once again he noticed a strange look on his friend's face, when suddenly his expression changed and he muttered, "Beware, trouble's coming."

Aziraphale followed his gaze and saw the reason for Crowley's words.

"Mr. Brown."

The bane of Whickber Street. And what Crowley didn't know, had been Aziraphale's bane for some time. Brown had invented every excuse to come into his bookshop, or to invite him to dinners and other appointments that Aziraphale had always managed to avoid.

"Aziraphale, what a pleasure to see you here."

Brown stood at their table, openly ignoring Crowley's presence as he continued, "May I invite you to dance?"

Aziraphale shook his head and replied coldly, "No, thank you," then turned his head back to Crowley, thinking the other would turn and leave, but Brown did not and continued as if nothing had happened.

"It's a shame to sit here and talk when there's this great orchestra."

Crowley intervened and said flatly, "Aziraphale obviously doesn't feel like dancing with you." 

The mustachioed man turned to him with a grin.

"What does that have to do with you, Mr. Crowley?"

Aziraphale, feeling the anger rising in him, replied, "It has everything to do with him. I'm here with Crowley. He invited me and I accepted. Because I wanted to be with him." 

On fire, Aziraphale didn't notice Crowley's surprised look. 

The other snorted, "Is that true? You expect me to believe that Crowley here is really your date? When you've turned down every single one of my invitations. How could he be any better?" 

Aziraphale stood and approached the man, hissing in a low voice, "He's billions of times better than you could ever dream; I don't care what you think. Just as I don't care about your invitations. But there is one thing you need to know, and that is that I will not hesitate to use some of my connections if you don't leave immediately. Like Crowley's mother, who's organizing this gala." 

The man opened his mouth to protest, but seeing the anger in Aziraphale's eyes, he decided to turn and walk away.

Aziraphale didn't take his eyes off him until he was sure he wasn't coming back, and it was a chuckle from Crowleyle that made him turn around. His irritation melted like snow in the sun at the sight of his friend's broad smile. 

He was about to sit back down when Crowley shook his head and stood up, holding out his hand, "Will you dance with me?"

Aziraphale took his friend's hand, a warmth building inside him as soon as their hands joined.

"With you? Of course."

Crowley led him to the center of the dance floor as the orchestra began a new piece.

In the distance, Lilith watched them enter the dance floor with a smile, and after a brief instruction to the conductor, the orchestra began to play a slow, romantic waltz.

Crowley, not fooled, murmured, "Mom..."

"Hm?"

Aziraphale lost his confused expression and forgot all about it the moment Crowley's hand came to rest on the small of his back, pressing him to his chest, while his other hand gripped Aziraphale's, intertwining their fingers as they began to turn gently to the rhythm of the soft music.

They twirled and twirled, one song and then another, and as one song followed another, they drew closer, Crowley's arms now wrapped around his waist and Aziraphale's around Crowley's neck. Every part of their bodies touched and their eyes were locked.

Aziraphale felt every fiber of his being react to the music and the feeling of Crowley so close, so real. Never in a million years would he have dared hope for this outside of a dream. Even better, the music clearly had the same effect on Crowley, who did nothing to create distance between them, but on the contrary, did everything to reduce it. 

Aziraphale smiled gently and dared to put his hands on Crowley's lower back and his head on his shoulder. The dance, such as it was, required no concentration or skill, so he closed his eyes and simply swayed in Crowley's arms, breathing in the warm, sensual scent of his skin where his neck met the collar of his shirt. He could feel his friend's heart beating steadily against his cheek and sighed with satisfaction, thinking that he wouldn't mind if they stayed like this forever. 

Unfortunately, Lilith's voice over the loudspeakers broke the spell.

"It's midnight, my friends. It's time."

“Time for what?” murmured Aziraphale, drowsy with contentment. He looked up at Crowley's face without removing his hands from his back, and saw a strange expression there again. His friend's lips were close to his face as he replied, "Fireworks, I suppose."

Crowley continued to hold him for a moment before slowly pulling away until Aziraphale's hands slid down his arms and landed on his hands, pulling him a little farther away.

Indeed, everyone headed for the large bay windows and the first shower of colorful rockets drew all eyes skyward with oohs and aahs of delight. Lilith had clearly outdone herself in impressing her guests, and the sky quickly filled with a thousand fleeting stars and deafening noise.

Aziraphale watched with wondering eyes as he felt a hand take his. Forgetting the spectacle outside, he turned to Crowley. His friend didn't bother to speak over the cheering and crackling and nodded to a slightly out of the way corner, a window embrasure hidden by heavy velvet curtains. Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley immediately pulled him by the hand to the spot he had just shown him. They stopped in the window embrasure, hidden by the curtains but illuminated by the glow of the fireworks they could see on the other side of the window, Aziraphale's hand still in Crowley's.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, whose face was very close. There was enough light to see his eyes, his gaze more intense than ever. Aziraphale's pulse quickened when Crowley didn't look away, and he held his breath when a hand came up to rest on his cheek.

Aziraphale couldn't help but whisper, "Are you going to kiss me?"

Crowley laughed slightly, his voice deep and sensual as he replied, "Yes, unless you stop me."

"Never."

That was all it took for Crowley to lean in gently until his lips brushed Aziraphale's, so softly that it sent Aziraphale into a kind of agony. A sweet agony.

The kiss quickly became more intense and lingered, their lips slowly getting to know each other.

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley's waist to press against him, erasing any hint of distance, and in response, Crowley parted Aziraphale's lips with a gentle flick of his tongue, deepening the kiss until there was nothing left but them.

Fireworks, music, crowds, lights - all had disappeared, leaving only them. 

When Crowley's mouth left his, Aziraphale whimpered, but the warm lips landed on his cheek, leaving a trail of searing kisses down his neck before returning to his half-open lips, which let out small gasps. 

"Anthony..."

"Say it again..."

"Anthony..."

As if starved by all those lost years, Crowley's lips picked up the whisper of his first name on Aziraphale's lips, leading to another kiss that lasted until they had no choice but to separate to catch their breath.

Between gasps, Crowley asked, "When did it start?" 

"For me? The first day. It was always there, but it just got stronger."

Crowley murmured, "So long. We're both idiots."

Aziraphale raised his hand and gently stroked his lover's cheek, "But we're here now, that's all that matters."

Anthony leaned his cheek into his lover's hand and nodded.

"Yes. It is."

Gradually, still entwined, they made contact with reality, sounds and light, but it was as if they weren't part of it.

Crowley asked in a playful tone, "This sounds cliché, but...your place or mine?" 

Aziraphale replied in the same tone, "It doesn't matter where, as long as we're both there."

"My place then. I'm the closest."

Aziraphale nodded and immediately Crowley took his hand and pulled him behind him, they quickly grabbed their coats under the astonished looks of the waitresses, the fireworks weren't over, the entrance was deserted and they could leave quietly without being noticed.

It would have taken them less than five minutes to get to Crowley's if they hadn't stopped every few seconds to take advantage of a darker corner to kiss. It was as if, now that they were both letting their desires run wild, it was impossible for them to control themselves. 

Arriving at Crowley's, Aziraphale hesitated slightly for the first time.

It hadn't even been an hour.

What if they ruined everything by rushing in?

What if...

A hand gripping his chin snapped him out of his spiral as Crowley said quietly, "We don't have to do anything tonight, or tomorrow, or even a week from now. In fact, I don't care what we do or when. I just don't want us to part tonight."

A sigh of relief escaped Aziraphale's lips as Crowley's thumb gently caressed his kiss-swollen lips.

"Neither do I. I don't want us to part tonight. But..."

"But?"

"If we could just slow down a little."

"Whatever you want, my angel."

"My angel?"

"You call me Anthony so I can call you my angel."

Aziraphale murmured, "Say it again."

"My angel."

"Again..."

Crowley smiled and leaned forward, murmuring against his lover's half-open lips, "My angel."

Then they said nothing more as he captured Aziraphale's lips in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate. They didn't know who moaned first as Aziraphale's tongue brushed along Crowley's lower lip, but it didn't matter. In the seconds that followed, their tongues intertwined in a wild, feverish dance, both finally giving free rein to the passion that had inhabited them for so long. 

When they had to pull away to catch their breath, Crowley bit Aziraphale's lip before gently releasing it. 

Forehead to forehead, they gasped for breath.

Then Aziraphale raised his hand and, tucking a lock of Crowley's hair behind his ear, said with a breath, "We've waited so long. I don't want to wait any longer. Take me to your bedroom now."

"Aziraphale, you-

"Yes." Then, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he said softly, "But only if you keep calling me your angel."

Crowley laughed, took his lover's hand, and they were both still laughing when he closed the bedroom door behind them.

The next morning, they awoke to each of their phones vibrating insistently on the nightstand.

With a synchronized sigh, they extricated themselves from each other and picked up the phones to read their messages.

"My mom asks me if I'm going to refuse to come to next year's gala now that I have a partner. Then she tells me to say hello."

"Give her my best. As for me, I have three messages, do you want to know?"

"Even if I say no, I know you'll read them to me anyway."

"Um, Muriel asks me if the evening was everything I hoped it would be, Maggie asks me to fill her in on all the details, and Nina...ahem..."

Crowley turned and then slid over Aziraphale, his elbows framing his face as he said teasingly, "You're making me very curious now, my angel."

Blushing, Aziraphale replied, "Nina asks if we broke the mattress..."

Crowley leaned over and, after planting a kiss on his lover's nose, said, "Answer her that we almost did."

Aziraphale's eyes widened, then they both laughed as he texted Nina exactly what Crowley had suggested. 

At the same time, at Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, the coffee shop on Whickber Street, Nina, phone in hand, threw her cleaning rag in the air and exclaimed, "They did it!"

Word spread like wildfire that the bookseller and his handsome, longtime friend were finally together.

The Whickber street gossips would have to find another target.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here