#the same friend I am having this conversation with is the same person who drew her as the onceler so. point proven I guess

[edmundspevensea]

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑

in which connor is left to pick up the pieces after losing y/n.

warnings; death (mentions suicide and mental health issues), connor having to grow up quickly, grief

based off of last words of a shooting star by mitski

all of this turbulence wasn't forecasted, apologies from the intercom

and i am relieved that i left my room tidy

they'll think of me fondly when they come for my things

Time does not stop for one person’s death. Nor does it stop for a million deaths. Time is a cold and cruel concept that remains hidden despite standing in the light. People forget that just because something breaks doesn’t mean that the rest of the world is affected by it.

Connor sat in the driver's seat of his 2008 Honda Civic, his eyes focusing on the neighborhood road in front of him. Christmas lights were shining brightly all around him, but the boy's heart and mind didn't reciprocate the brightness surrounding him. Instead, his soul was sad as he looked up from the road, his eyes meeting your childhood home. The same childhood home in which you and Connor first met.

A five year old Connor stood nervously at your doorstep, his light brown hair blowing mindlessly in the wind. His arms were loaded with a tray of cookies that his mom had made. Your family had recently moved to North Vancouver from what the Bedards presumed was the United States, seeing as an American flag was displayed above your garage. As your new next door neighbors, his mom took it upon herself to welcome you to the neighborhood, and there was no better way to do so than a five year old with cookies.

The door swung open and Connor was met with a woman, who he later learned was your mom, and you, his newfound best friend. From then on, you and Connor became inseparable.

The same childhood home in which you and Connor had late night conversations through cup phones.

Funnily enough, Connor soon learned that his bedroom was exactly across the way from yours. What began as small waves to each other when you both realized the other was in their room, quickly turned into both of you cracking your windows open to have full-fledged conversations with each other. As the years went by and you and Connor grew older, you decided that that wasn't enough, and brought it up with Connor that night before going to bed. The next morning, you woke up to a cup phone sitting on your bedroom desk, and a long piece of yarn attached to it. It didn't take long for you to discover that the cup lead to Connor's room. It did, however, take a little while to discover a note that Connor had left for you.

"you left your window open, so i figured there was no better time to do this. i spent all night finishing this - i even drew a dog on your cup because i know you like them so much! - connor".

The same childhood home in which you and Connor realized you loved each other.

Now teenagers, it was evident that there was something going on between you and Connor. However, it seemed as if everyone but the two of you were aware of it. Both his mom and dad and your mom and dad had sworn that the two of you were going to grow up and get married, and his sister always claimed that she would be the maid of honor, but both you and Connor swore that the two of you were only best friends, and that's all that you guys would ever be.

However, that all changed the morning of your 16th birthday. Connor had turned 16 a few months prior, and he spent the days leading up to it driving around town to acquire the decorations needed to decorate. The night before your 16th, you and Connor had planned a sleepover. Little did you know, however, that while you were fast asleep in one of Connor's Regina Pats t-shirts, he had spent another night wide awake for you, just to decorate his kitchen in order to surpise you.

When you woke up the next morning, Connor was nowhere to be found in his sleeping bag on the floor (the boy let you take his bed so you'd be more comfortable, and despite your protests, he insisted). Confused, you got out of bed, and were immediately hit with the soft sound of music and the crackling of bacon. You softly smiled to yourself as you made your way down the stairs, expecting to be met with Mrs. Bedard, but instead, you found Connor hunched over the stovetop, grilling the bacon.

His hair was disheveled and he was wearing his favorite Regina Pats hoodie, gray sweatpants adorning his legs. You stood there for a bit before making your presence known, snaking a hug around Connor's waist as you noticed all of the decorations around you, "Happy birthday, sunshine."

You let out a soft gasp as you took in the sight around you, your eyes admiring all of the work Connor had put in just for you. He smiled as your eyes twinkled in excitement, mentally celebrating to himself as he realized how much you loved everything, "Connor, you shouldn't have... this is amazing, thank you. I don't think anything can make this day better."

His smile grew even bigger, which he didn't know was even possible. As you went around the kitchen to admire the decorations up close, Connor went back to cooking the bacon. The random playlist he had on shuffled through a few songs, and soon landed on 'At Last' by Etta James. You grinned, heading over to Connor.

"Con, I think I have found something that can make this day better."

"And what is that?" "Dance with me."

Connor didn't protest. Instead, he turned around and placed one hand on your shoulder and the other on your waist, and the two of you began to slow dance around the kitchen to the soft voice of Etta James. Despite no words being exchanged between the two of you, both you and Connor could feel the love you had for each other. After all, love understands love - it needs no talk.

The same childhood home in which you eventually took your life.

Connor knew you were struggling. From the moment he had met you, he had the ability to read you like an open book. So when you became quieter shortly after your sweet sixteen, he became concerned. At first, you tried to blame it on stress from school and extracurriculars in an attempt to reassure him, but Connor could see right through you. He knew you were hurting, but what he didn't know was that you were never going to recover from this pain.

Although Connor wasn't home all the time, he would send you encouraging text messages every morning and would talk with you every night on the phone, for hours on end, though your cell phones couldn't compare to the cup phones that still hung between your guys' bedroom windows. He even asked his parents and Madi to keep a closer eye on you when he was gone.

He was in Regina when it happened. His parents had come to see him play against the Everett Silvertips, and were planning on staying for the weekend to catch up with him. His day was going great, and he didn’t think anything could have ruined it. That was until after the game, when he had tried to call you - multiple times - to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. Each and every time he called, he was met with your voicemail. A pit of concern was growing in his stomach, but he tried to settle it by convincing himself that you had fallen asleep and we’re okay. When he had gotten back to his apartment after the game, however, the worry in his stomach only grew when he saw his parents sitting on his couch, both teary-eyed.

“Connor…” he made eye contact with his mom, who could barely hold herself together. Somehow, he had put the pieces together - it was about Y/N, and it wasn’t good - but he still felt the need to ask about her before jumping to conclusions.

“Y/N’s fine, right? She’s just sleeping, or driving, which is why she’s not answering any of my calls?” Connor asked warily, his voice shaky. His mom only cried harder at her son’s question and his dad sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. Connor hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his eyes glassy, his head shaking in disbelief, “She’s not… she’s not dead, right? She can’t be.”

“She’s gone, Connor,” his dad replied, his heart breaking at the state his son was already in, “Her mom called us a bit ago. She committed suicide.”

“No!” Connor shouted, his mouth curving into an upward smile of pure shock, “You’re lying to me! Y/N’s not dead, she can’t be!” he pulled out his phone again and began to dial her phone number, “If I call her right now she’ll answer me. She was just taking a nap!”

Immediately, Connor’s mom got up to hug him and at that moment, he knew she was gone. His best friend, his love, the one person who knew him more than anyone else in the entire world, was gone. He dropped his phone and let out a blood-curdling scream, falling to his knees as his mom tried to keep up with him. His dad joined his wife and son on the floor as the the three Bedards grieved together, knowing they would never again get to see sweet and beautiful Y/N Y/L/N.

Your funeral had been the hardest part for Connor. There wasn't much crying during the actual procession, except from him. As your dad, his dad, Kent Johnson, Tanner Hayes, your cousin and him were carrying your casket down the aisle of the church, tears rolled down the young boy's lightly-freckled cheeks like a flowing waterfall.

During your actual burial, however, things were the exact opposite, Connor felt numb, and couldn't process that you were actually gone. However, the others realized that they would never, ever hear your voice again. They would never again get to see your smile, or hear your contagious laugh. Madi and Mrs. Bedard shook in each other's arms, trying their best to comfort one another. Your mom trembled as your dad rubbed her back softly. A group of your cousins all huddled together in a heartbreaking group hug. Connor’s dad really tried his best to hold it together for everybody else, but when he saw the casket being lowered into the ground, he broke. You had been like a daughter to him. He pretty much knew that his son was going to grow up to marry you. Mr. Bedard collapsed to the ground on his knees, his heart breaking more and more each second. But then there was Connor - absolutely no expression on his face whatsoever. He couldn't feel anything.

Here Connor was, sitting in his car a year later. The Blackhawks had given him a break to be with family during this time, specifically after Nick Foligno had seen how broken the kid was over the situation. He could see your mom and dad having dinner through the window, but he knew it wasn’t the same. They had left an empty chair, plate and silverware out on the table for every meal after you had left.

The cup phones were still hanging between his bedroom and yours. Connor didn’t have the heart to take them down - if they remained up, the two of you would still be connected in some way, and although that way wasn’t ideal, it was better than nothing.

The American flag was still up, but by now was joined by a Canadian one as well. Things were different now, but not for the better.

Connor reached over to his passenger seat, in which sat a gift-wrapped box. Your parents had given it to him on Christmas Day last year, explaining that it was the gift that you were going to give him that day. He thanked them kindly, but didn’t have the heart to open it. He needed some more time before he could face the memories of you again.

He was finally ready. Connor wiped off some dust particles from the year old wrapping paper before carefully moving to untie the bow of ribbon on top of the present - it was your signature move. When he managed to unwrap the wrapping paper and open the box, tears came to his eyes immediately.

A handmade blanket was revealed to him. In the very center, the fabric of his old Regina Pats t-shirt - the one you were wearing when you guys realized you loved each other - was revealed, and ‘Bedard - 98’ was written across. Another square of fabric was a piece of your baby blanket, on which your warm scent still lingered. Connor gripped the blanket close as if he was physically holding you in his arms, as if you were physically here with him.

For the first time in a year, Connor allowed himself to grieve. He missed you so much, and desperately wished you were back in his arms, but finally realized that the world goes on. Once again, time does not stop for one person’s death. Nor does it stop for a million deaths. Time is a cold and cruel concept that remains hidden despite standing in the light. People forget that just because something breaks doesn’t mean that the rest of the world is affected by it.

For awhile, Connor thought he could’ve saved her. He thought his love for her was enough to show her the beauty and goodness of the world which can so often be cruel. Connor loved Y/N in many ways, and the fact is that the blue-eyed boy could've loved her in an infinite number of ways, but really, he could've never loved her in a way that was enough to make her stay.

That’s just something Connor Bedard would have to live with for the rest of his life.

an; merry christmas and happy holidays i guess???

#nhl #connor bedard #connor bedard x reader #chicago blackhawks #kent johnson #nhl hockey #nhl x reader #nhl imagines #connor bedard imagine #connor bedard imagines #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagines #chicago blackhawks imagines #don’t be fooled i hate the h*wks but love connor #merry christmas i guess

[catscidr]

hi helloooo hope ure doing great !! could i pls req childe who constantly flirts with a shy reader who gets super duper flustered by it ???? childe + opposites attract + mutual pining lives rent free in my head >3>

ur in luck bc i AM indeed doing great!! mostly bc i wrote this. like oh GOD i love him he's so boyfriend agshnfga writing this made me giggle and kick my legs. was actually tweaking. im so weak for him sometimes DAMMIT ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, modern/college au, idiot in love x idiot in love, crack if you squint? childe and reader r just silly. only slightly proofread because i was too excited (sue me) includes: fem!reader, childe wc: 1k

It’s not like you didn’t want to be here, stuck between two very rowdy students cheering for their friends, because you were in the bleachers for the same reason anyways; to cheer on your own friend! But you’d prefer doing it without the constant shouts coming from the other students. 

Previously, Tartaglia had insisted (read: begged) that you come watch his soccer matches, even if some were just for practice. I play better when I know you’re in the stands, he said earlier before he left you to your own thoughts, walking away to change into his uniform. It had been maybe half an hour since then and yet you couldn’t shake the conversation from your head, not when he kept meeting your gaze from the soccer field, flashing you a bright smile as he ran for the ball.

Your relationship with the redhead was a confusing one. As one of the popular students, Tartaglia naturally always had his own group of (equally popular) friends around him but, recently, he’s been hanging out with you more often. Saying something along the lines of him needing to take after you to mellow out his loud personality in comparison to your introverted one. You’d argue that it wasn’t necessary, that his energy was one of the things that drew you to him ; and as much as he likes to come up with excuses to hang out with you without you bolting in the opposite direction, you know you’ll always fall for his boyish charm, no matter how shitty his excuse is. 

The sudden sound of shouts pulls you from your thoughts, a surprised yelp leaving your lips. Focusing your attention back on the field you watch as your friend gets engulfed by a group hug, the team cheering loudly- seems like in your daydream he managed to score a goal. The two guys next to you were standing up, cheering for them enthusiastically. 

Overwhelmed by the sheer energy radiating from them, you focus your attention back on Tartaglia. He meets your eyes, his smile widening even further if it were possible, and waves at you energetically. You wave back sheepishly, cheeks flushed. 

✧✧✧ 

“I told you I play better when you’re watching!” Tartaglia says with a teasing grin, lightly pushing your shoulder. You make a noise of surprise, covering it up with a cough as you raise your fist up to your mouth to hide your bashful expression. Whether he noticed the way you stiffened at his touch or not, he does a good job not showing it. “Did a whole hat trick thanks to you. Well, the soccer equivalent of it at least...” he continues sheepishly, mindlessly fiddling with the strap of his bag slung over his shoulder. 

“How does that even work, anyways? Usually, people feel more pressure when there’s a crowd watching them...” you argue quietly, matching his long strides as you walked together along campus to go back to the gym changing rooms. Most people that came to watch the match had already left, however you and Tartaglia had been stuck behind due to him getting stopped by friends and acquaintances. Which worked in your favor since you disliked dealing with large crowds. 

“Eh, I don’t care about other people. All I care about is having your pretty eyes on me,” he says with a wink. 

Your legs stop abruptly, a flush decorating your cheeks, gaze never leaving the floor as you try to get your heart to calm down. How can he say something like that so casually? Is he messing with you because he has ulterior motives or is he- 

“Heyheyhey, you doing alright over there? I didn’t break you, did I?” You hear Tartaglia calling your name, waving his hand in front of your face with a lighthearted chuckle. Pulling yourself out of your frozen state, you look up at the playful expression your friend wore, cheeks puffing out as you find yourself lacking a comeback. He notices your sullen frown and places a hand on your head, ruffling your hair playfully. 

“Oh come on, don’t sulk now!” the redhead whines, “that was tame. You and I both know I’m capable of saying much worse than that,” he declares confidently, deep blue eyes looking down at you with a playful grin. A grin that seemed to never leave his face, much to your displeasure- how were you supposed to pull yourself together when he looked like the human incarnation of the sun? 

“Don’t,” you mumble quietly, picking up the pace with your head hanging low, physically unable to face him anymore. Sure, you didn’t have the biggest group of friends and went out less than most people, but you were convinced he was shamelessly flirting with you. Why else would he be so close to you, relentlessly teasing you like this? Oh god, what if he’s like this with everyone? Maybe this is how he jokes around with his friends... Wait, speaking of Tartaglia, where did he- 

You bump into a hard surface. Opening your eyes, you’re met with a damp soccer tee, glistening muscles and freckled skin. Tilting your head up slowly, you’re met with your crush-friend-classmate-guy looking at you with raised brows and quirked up lips. He places one hand on his hip, observing your beet red face with glee. 

“I didn’t even do anything this time, princess. Everything okay?” the redhead asks with an airy chuckle. Oh god, you thought. Wish I walked into a wall instead. 

“Y-Yeah. Uh huh. Everything’s just peachy,” you respond with a thumbs up, the corners of your lips curling up into what you thought was a reassuring smile but seemed more like a nervous grimace to the soccer player. He didn’t buy your excuse. Instead of leaving it as it is, Tartaglia brings a hand up to his chin and looks up, dramatically faking a thought process. 

“Hmm... I wonder what you could have been so distracted by? Was it my arms? My charms? Or was it-” 

“Your body odor. You reek of sweat, go shower,” you squeak out, face burning as you scurry away from the source of your (delicious) torment, your heart running a marathon beneath your ribcage all the while Tartaglia laughs loudly in the hallway, speedwalking to catch up to you.

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #childe x fem!reader #childe x afab reader #tartaglia x fem!reader #tartaglia x afab reader #linked the definition to what a hat trick is bc idk if everyone knows what that is sgfngnfs

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for sending two final message to a guy who is ghosting me?

I have submitted something here about the same person a while ago (like last August).

I (21f) had a friend (22m) last year who, due to a series of miscommunications, thought that we were dating when that had never been established. The gist is that we met on tinder and kissed on a night out, but no conversations were ever had about actually dating. Because we'd met on a dating app and I'd kissed him he thought we were dating, I did not think that because we never discussed dating. It was stupid. I kissed someone else on a different night out - because I was single I didn't even think about it - and he was very upset. I know I should have communicated better. I was in the mindset of "if he wanted to, he would, we talk all the time." I get now that other people won't take the initiative so you've got to do it yourself.

There was a whole thing, we were staying friends, then months after he blew up at me out of the blue, accused me of trying to "psyche him out before exams" because i wished him good luck. He apologised for that. Over the summer he came to me with super personal traumas and I tried to help him through it. We'd met up a few times at the beginning of this academic year for coffee. We had another series of miscommunications because he thought I was mad at him when I wasn't and drew me into a 3 hour argument about whether I was mad. This wasn't a great relationship, I know that.

We were mid conversation in November and he just stopped replying. Zilch. Nothing. I know he's still alive cos he's been posting Instagram stories, but he's just not replying to me. I left it cos fuck him if he wants to play like that. by Christmas though I was a bit worried about him, so I texted him "Hey, I hope you're doing okay. Merry Christmas" on the 20th Dec. No reply. I left it. On New Year's day, I texted him "Hey, happy new year. If I've done something to upset you, I am really sorry. Hope you're well". I've sent nothing since.

I think I may be TA because he clearly does not want to talk to me and I don't want to harass him. I also think I may be TA to myself because this friendship is awful and I'm prolonging it like this.

However, I may not be TA because I think it's pretty normal to want to check up if someone is okay if they just stop replying mid conversation like that.

Idk

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[shhh-secret-time]

HIII could you do Kyle x reader where it's a soulmate au?? plsss and thank uuu

Anon you were so patient with me! Thank you! And thank you for requesting my favorite boy! I'm so down bad for the sweet red head.

Warning: Strong Language, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

Pairings: Kyle x GN!Reader

'Oh my god! I'm going to fucking kill him.'

The tips of your fingers traced the golden ink like sentence on your palm, watching as the cursive font danced across your skin. It happened every morning at eight on the dot, a new sentence would sketch itself into your skin. When it first happened, you thought maybe someone drew on you when you weren't paying attention, especially since the next day the words changed. But the font was beautiful and shimmered in the light, what pen could do something like that?

Later as the years went by you learned that apparently you had a soulmate, and these were their thoughts. Whoever they were scared you sometimes with the things they thought about, usually very violent thoughts. It made you wonder what type of person they were. I mean you were sure they wouldn't act on it; you've thought tons of things but that didn't mean you were a bad person. It almost made you wonder what your soulmate thought of your inner voice.

South Park was a small town, not many people chose to actually live in a town that was riddled with a backwater run down mentality. It was famous for all the wrong reasons, but that meant everyone kind of knew each other, or at the very least of each other. The kids you went to elementary with followed you to middle and you followed them to high school. Now here you were in community college sitting in the library with the few people you could call friends.

Bebe Steven's was the first person to call you a friend, so her friends became yours, adopting you into their little group. A close-knit group of people who cared about you, what more could you ask for?

"I can't do it anymore Wendy, please!" Speaking of the blonde, the poor girl was slumped over the table with her cheek pressed into the math textbook. Her bottom lip was poking out and if you didn't know her so well you would swear those crocodile tears were real.

"Bebe you barley passed the last test, and that's because you were copying off of Nicole!" Wendy sighed as she gave into the pitiful whine of her friend, reaching over to pat the top of her curls.

"I knoooow but can't we just have a little break? Pleaaaase! I need to spill some tea!" Bebe sprung up and you knew what was coming. Bebe had a secret weapon, the most powerful puppy eyes in South Park. Before Wendy could avert her eyes, she delivered the killing blow. "Please Wendy? Just ten minutes~ it's super hooooot tea~."

You smiled softly at the both of them, shooting Wendy a look of pity as you watched in real time her lose the internal battle. Wendy's shoulders slumped forward, and she finally smiled.

"Fine...ten minutes and then we're going back to work."

"Yes!" Bebe cheered as she threw her arms around Wendy, pulling her into a tight hug. "SO, guess who found their soulmate!"

You tensed up at the subject maybe without even realizing it, you pulled your sleeve over your palm and held it up to your mouth. You had a horrible habit of chewing on your bottom lip to keep yourself from protesting the conversation.

"Who?"

"Mercedes!"

"Like...waitress Mercedes?"

"Yeaaah! Ugh she's so lucky! I wanna find mine already! At least you're in the same boat I am." Pulling herself from Wendy, Bebe turned to look at you with a smile.

"Y... yeah. Wait Wendy is too, isn't she?" You muttered past your sleeve.

"No! Wendy already knows hers! She's just not doing anything about it!" Bebe sneered and crossed her arms under her chest, her lips pursed into a pout.

"But...why?"

"I just want to focus on me right now. School is important and I don't know, I've got time." Wendy replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

You stared at her in awe, there were times when you couldn't help but admire her. Wendy seemed like she had it all figured out, like she knew what she wanted from life and wasn't afraid to grab ahold of it.

Maybe you should take a page from her book, start doing things for you. The fear of your soulmate being some terrifying violent person shouldn't stop you from at least trying to find them.

It was as if the conversation was breathing life back into Bebe, she perked up and grinned at you. But when your eyes met hers all you could see was the mischief in them, if you didn't know better you'd swear it was excitement.

"Apparently the closer you get to your soulmate the words on your palm with change! You'll be able to tell what they're thinking in real time! Haaaave yours changed yet?" Bebe sung out, her hands reaching across the table to gentle take yours.

She flipped your hand over, so your palms were facing up, her beautiful done red nails seemed to contrast yours. She traced them across the font on your palm with a hum. "Or are you like Wendy and you're waiting? You've gotta know right?"

"N...no I don't. I've been-", you stopped and bit your bottom lip again, "... kind of afraid to find out who it is."

"What? Why?" Bebe took your hand and gave it a squeeze like she was trying to reassure you to keep going.

That's when you pulled your sleeve up the whole way so she could see the rest of the sentence. Their eyes widened and silence fell over the three of you. You kept your eyes on your lap as you let them read it so you missed Wendy's little head tilt. The words ringing in her ears like she could hear it. No, it couldn't be...could it?

"Well, they're just thoughts, right? It's not like whoever it is will actually do it! Come on hun you can't let that stop you! Just, like, pay extra close to your palm today! There might be something sweet on there if they're nearby!"

You furrowed your brows at that if they were nearby? Maybe it was a little harder to tell when everyone in the school wore gloves because of how cold it was, you included. After a few moments of debating between everything you nodded at her and decided you'd keep your gloves off today. With that Wendy's phone chimed letting your little group know that your ten minutes were up, and it was time to get back to studying, but now you were out of it. You couldn't focus on learning anything else but your palm, watching the font like if you blinked you'd miss it.

But nothing changed, the threat on your palm stayed for the rest of the study session. With a sigh you packed your things and got ready to leave the library, the girls hugging you tightly as they went their own way. Leaving into the halls of the school, passing past other students whose voices seemed to fade into the background. But despite your attempts to smother everyone else out, no one could really tune out South Park's famous boys. Stan and Kyle were standing by their lockers talking and for once it was Stan that seemed to be getting under Kyle's skin.

"Dude, this is the fourth time you've blown me off! Come on, we made these plans last week!"

"I know man, but the band needs me! We've got a gig coming up and we have to get more practice in! I'm sorry Kyle, I'll make it up to you!" Stan shot him an apologetic look.

Kyle sighed and simply rolled his eyes, "Sure dude, one of these days I'm going to cash in all of the times you said you'll make it up to me."

Stan let out a laugh and wrapped his arm around the taller man's neck bringing him down to his level. You smiled at the both of them, you didn't know Stan very well, but Kyle was always nice to you. You admired the fact that he always spoke his mind, whoever his soulmate was had to be the luckiest person on earth. Not only because of how sweet he was, but again he always spoke his mind, there was no guessing at what he was thinking. You peered down at your palm again and blinked in surprise, it had changed.

'He's lucky he's my best friend.'

Oh. Oh.

'Are they looking at me? Do I have something on my face?'

You could feel your heart rate pick up, eyes bouncing between your palm and Kyle. Your head was now on a swivel looking around as if the answers would emerge out of the many groups walking around. When Stan broke away from Kyle with his guitar on his back, the red head began putting his books away. There you stood, glued to this spot watching him with intense eyes. So, when he turned and saw your passionate gaze he couldn't help but flinch on the spot, but he couldn't tear his eyes from you.

Your palm changed again. You couldn't believe it. Just a minute ago you were telling your two best friends about how you were afraid to meet your soulmate and now here he was. This felt almost too cliche, like the universe was tired of you trying to run from it. And now here you were standing in the hall, a few steps away from someone who was supposed to be yours. Did he know? Probably not from how quiet you were and how you liked to keep to yourself. So now here you were with all that knowledge and nowhere to run.

'Their eyes are so pretty; I don't know why I've never noticed before.'

Was he trying to kill you? You felt the compliment go straight to your heart, making it speed up. Your face was turning red at his words, even if he didn't say them, you could almost hear them. You felt something in your chest tug you towards him, like your heart was leaping in his direction and demanding that you listen to it. Kyle watched as you made your way to where he was standing, moving through the halls like nothing else matters.

"Um...hey, is everything okay?" Kyle nervously looked down at you, he couldn't help wondering why his heart was racing so hard.

Sure, you were attractive, but that wasn't all you were. Sure, he really liked your laugh when he heard you talking with Bebe and Wendy, and he secretly wished he made you laugh like that. Sure, you had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, but he would never tell you that. How could he? What if you thought he was a freak and oh my god you're saying something and he's not paying attention.

"- so yeah, can you take your gloves off for me?"

"H-huh my gloves? Uh sure." Kyle shook himself out of his trance, he didn't know why you needed his gloves off but that was his fault for not paying attention.

As he removed his gloves you got a glance at his palm looking for any signs of words on his palm.

'I never realized how tall he is.' Those were your thoughts. Your thoughts were on his palm, and he doesn't even realize it yet.

"Did you need to borrow them? Are you cold?" He's asking you with such a soft voice, care laced in his tone.

"No no I just um okay this is going to sound really strange... b-but can you think of an animal for me?"

"An... animal? Like my favorite animal?"

"Sure. That works." You chuckled at the confusion on his face, brows furrowed together in deep thought which was exactly what you wanted.

'Fox.' That's cute.

"Your favorite animal is a fox?" You asked looking up from your palm with a smile.

"Huh but I... how did-" He stopped. The whole situation came crashing down onto him, his mouth opened to say something, but nothing would come out. So now he just looked like a fish gasping for air.

"Yeah I- wow this is it. I think you're my soul-mate Kyle." As you showed him your palm you almost had to laugh about how many times you've flashed it at people today.

Those deep forest green eyes of his watched the golden light on your palm swirl and change as his thoughts did. The tips of his ears turn red as he desperately tries to keep his thoughts under control, soulmate or not he didn't want to scare you off with stupid shit his brain comes up with.

"Is um...is your favorite animal on my palm too?" No. It wasn't.

'His eyes are like emeralds.'

"You think my eyes are like emeralds?"

"You think my smile is cute?" You shot back with a small smirk making him look away, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

Kyle and you stood in silence for a few moments, hearts racing and nervous shifting from foot to foot. "So, um...my weekend is free do you wanna grab a coffee?"

"I'd love to get coffee with you Kyle~" You let out a laugh, your hand coming up to cover your smile, but it was stopped by his.

The warmth of his hand beating back the chill of yours, they were softer than you thought they'd be. His thumb nervously rubs against your knuckles enjoying the way your hand felt in his, so much smaller but it fit so perfectly. Kyle smiled brightly at your response, a wave of relief washing over him and a breath he didn't know he was holding. He took the first step towards the door with you in tow, a soft glow between the both of you. Something deep inside of you felt complete, like pieces of a puzzle or links of a chain.

#fuck dude #this was so hard to write #for some reason #no not some reason #I wanted it to be good! #stan marsh #i do for you anon #and my boy #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #wendy testaburger #bebe stevens #south park x reader #south park fanfiction #sp fandom #x reader #reader insert #shhh its a secret #south park #request answered #anon ask #i love you guys #soulmates #We got an AO3 request next #soulmate au

[hannyoontify]

morning dew be damned - kim mingyu

member | mingyu x reader

genre | meet-cute, nonidol!au, strangers to lovers au, crack/humor?

word count | 1315 words

synopsis | why was morning dew romanticized in writings so much? all it did for you was make you slip and fall for a man you just met.

warnings | cursing, kkuma’s a bitch but also the best wingdog(?)

notes | I FINALLY. FUCKING. FINISHED. my first attempt EVER at a meet cute so pls bare with me if this sucks 🥲 i actually wrote this bc i saw this super cute guy at the park during my morning run the other day and i was like “i wonder what would happen if i actually had the balls to talk to him” and hence this fic was born LMAO i’m not fully satisfied with the result so i might rewrite it in the future but hope you enjoyed!!

It was the same every morning. At exactly 7:45 am, your alarm would go off and you would get ready to go running. You always made sure to wear the same hat. It was one of a kind, a custom made hat you made back in high school with your friends.

Your local park was perfect for morning runs. There was plenty of shade provided by large, looming trees, benches for resting, and a smooth, paved cement floor. Today’s weather was nice, rays of sunshine peeking through a few clouds as the sky and the rest of the world slowly began to wake up and greet the day.

Pulling on your headphones, you started a light jog as you made your way through the park when you noticed an unfamiliar figure sitting on your usual bench. You run so early in the morning, there are only a handful of people who you see regularly and the stranger was not one of them. Curious, you slowed down as you pulled off your headphones to see who it was.

Even from behind, you could tell that the stranger was tall. He had broad shoulders, and you could see his long legs outstretched in front of him. His heels were grounded on the floor, and he swung the rest of his feet side by side, the top of his shoes touching and making a soft click sound. You smiled, thinking that the action was quite unfitting for a man built like himself, and found it endearing.

“Excuse me, I-” You choked on your words the moment you saw the stranger’s face. When your eyes met, you felt your heart catch in your throat. The man sitting in front of you was definitely sculpted by the gods themselves; his sharp eyes twinkled as they looked into yours, and his lips and oh my god his jawline- How could someone be this attractive?

“Is everything alright?” The stranger asked. You mentally shook yourself out of the daze you were in, and smiled. Even his voice was attractive.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just-” You fumbled for your words, suddenly nervous because of the attractive man in front of you. “I’ve never seen you around before so I was wondering if you were new to the neighborhood or…”

He smiled. “Yeah! I’m new, my name’s Mingyu, by the way.” You shook his outstretched hand and returned his smile as you introduced yourself.

“Nice to meet you, [Name],” there was an awkward pause before he motioned to the empty spot next to him. “Would you like to sit down?”

You glanced down at your watch. You still had 9k steps to complete, but how could you say no to having a conversation with the most attractive man you’ve ever met in your life? “Sure.”

After taking a seat, you took off your baseball cap and set it down to the side before running a hand through your hair, trying to make yourself presentable.

“I like your hat. That’s a really cool design I’ve never seen before, where’d you get it?” He asked, a sweet attempt at starting a conversation.

“This old thing? Oh thank you, it’s actually custom made! When I was in high school, my friends and I saw this cool vintage shop where they personalize hats and shirts and stuff for you, so we all got matching hats. I was actually the one who drew the design,” You said, a hint of pride in your voice. You loved to talk about the story behind your hat, it was one of your favorite stories to tell.

Mingyu nodded and smiled. “That’s really cool. So I’m guessing you’re an artist?” 

“Kind of? I draw for fun, but I major in journalism,” You shrugged. “I’m taking a gap year right now because of finance stuff but I’m hoping to return this upcoming fall so I can get my master’s and get a stable job. What about you?” 

“Me?” Mingyu pointed to himself and you nodded. “Well, I’m a film major, and I recently started working as a producer for this upcoming film and- hey that dog just snatched your hat and is running away.”

You turned away and saw a white blur running away at high speed, with your navy baseball cap in its mouth. “KKUMA WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Before Mingyu could fully process what was happening, you bolted out of your seat and chased down the white, fluffy dog that was now almost on the other side of the park. Although he couldn’t make out what you were saying, he could definitely hear you screaming and yelling at the tiny dog.

Mingyu’s body moved on its own and he broke into a full sprint, his long legs allowing him to have longer, more powerful strides than your own. Soon enough, he passed you with ease and if you weren’t so out of breath, you would’ve laughed at how comical everything seemed. 

With extra force in your step, you jumped at Kkuma, preparing yourself to (gently) tackle her–but morning dew be damned. You silently cursed out every work of literature and its author that has ever romanticized the morning dew on blades of green grass as Kkuma easily jumped out of your grasp and you slid sideways–on your stomach–at least 3 feet before you stopped.

“GET THAT FUCKING DOG,” You yelled at no one in particular. Mingyu kept running, holding back a laugh as the white dog continued to sprint down the asphalt like it was nothing. You got back up quickly and caught up to Mingyu and you two continued to chase down Seungcheol’s dog.

This time, it was Mingyu’s turn to take a leap at the dog. Needless to say, it was a fruitless attempt and resulted in him rolling in the wet grass similar to you. And to his luck, he even got a couple blades of grass in his mouth. With a look of disgust, he spit out the vegetation and continued to run.

As you ran after the dog, you suddenly remembered why you liked to run so much. This was it. The thumping of your racing heartbeat in your ears, your erratic breathing and that rush of endorphins that you can almost feel in your system. 

Just as you thought were getting the hang of it, Kkuma abruptly paused and dropped the hat. She looked at you and Mingyu who were now doubled over, each trying to catch their breath, and barked. After a single bark, she ran to Seungcheol, who you could see waiting in the distance and you inwardly cursed out your friend and neighbor. 

Now that the runner’s high was wearing off, you felt exhausted. You collapsed on the floor and Mingyu followed your example, spreading out his limbs into a shape resembling a starfish. You felt a little lightheaded as you felt blood rush back into your head and you tried to even out your breathing.

“Is… is your hat okay?” Mingyu asked, still slightly out of breath. His random question had you giggling that soon turned into peals of laughter as you gripped your stomach because of how hard you were laughing. Mingyu joined in on your laughter, and soon, the two of you were just rolling in the grass, laughing your asses off.

You wipe your tears of joy away and glance at Mingyu, who’s looking up at the sky with a bright smile and the sight of him makes your cheeks heat up. And no, it wasn't from the weather or the workout you just had. The fast thumping in your chest seemed to speed up and you suddenly felt like floating, your heart soaring above the clouds. 

This definitely wasn’t because of your runner’s high. 

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

#hannyoontify.works #seventeen #svt #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #svt x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen mingyu #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu fluff #mingyu x y/n #mingyu oneshot #mingyu icons #mingyu au #mingyu seventeen #seventeen fic #svt fic #svt au #svt scenarios #svt x you #svt mingyu

[ruwriteshours]

MONSTERS IN MY ROOM (PART I) ⛧ L.JN

↝ pairing: lee jeno x fem! reader

↝ genre: mortal instrumental! au, angst, gore, urban fantasy, fluff, eventual smut (MINORS DNI)

↝ warning: mention of death of characters

↝ summary: You didn't know your usual habits would become a huge significant part of your life. With little memories of your past, you are forced to remember to find your missing mother with the help of Jeno, an immortal.

"Yeah, I know I wouldn't forget." You groaned, your hand clutching onto the phone as you moved it to the other side of your ear. "You've been talking about it since last week."

You could hear grumbling noise of complaint coming from Jongho at the other line. "Well, how am I suppose to know you'll follow through. Your mom's crazy."

"Well, my mom doesn't control my life." You began sketching on your notepad, your fingers tracing on the symbol you drew as you let out your usual monologue. "I'm three more months to eighteen. Plus, she won't know a thing." You whispered out the last part.

"Yeah, whatever 'Miss Independent'." You giggled. "Just don't get both of us in trouble."

"Oh, don't be such a wuss. She won't suspect a thing." You assured, before hanging up— not even giving Jongho the chance to retaliate.

Flipping through the pages of you sketchbook, you had realised how much your sudden habbit had gotten worse. Your book was occupied with the same drawings of the symbols. All of it being repeated.

Sighing under your breath, you walked out of your room to wash up. "Hey, sweetie!" Your mother's chirpy voice greeted you by the kitchen, preoccupied with her cooking. Muttering back a soft 'hey' as you walked away only to be stopped again by her voice calling out to you.

Whining, you turned around. "What is it?"

Turning off the stove, she looked up at you with her beaming smile. "I see you've gotten busy."

Glancing down at your hand, you could see the graphite ink of your pencil had painted your entire hand— smudging your clean shirt.

"Yeah, it's for a project." You lied, attempting to rub off the dirt.

Your mother only prodded further. "Well, tell me more then." She said excitedly. You laughed awkwardly as you gestured towards the bathroom. "I would love to, mom but I'm meeting Jongho soon." You excused.

"Oh," You could hear the tease in her voice. "Your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend!" You yelled out, a little too quickly. "He's a boy and he's my friend. He's my boy-space-friend." You explained, which only cause your mother to smile even more annoyingly. "Alright, sweetie. Have fun."

"He really isn't!" You began rushing to the bathroom to get ready. The last thing you heard was the gleeful laugh of your mother.

"Hey— woah." Startled by the sudden force being pulled on him as you hastily dragged Jongho out of your house. "What's the rush?"

"Don't want you to suffer by the wrath of my mom." You half-joked, still bothered by her comment. "Uh oh, what'd she say this time?" He laughed seeing your flustered expression.

"Nothing that concerns you." You grumbled, still holding onto his elbow to have him match your pace. He hummed, "Sure must be embarassing to have you this worked up."

"Shut up!" You hit his shoulder as it only fueled his humour, not finding your weak attack effective.

The walk towards the cafe was fairly short, your conversation with your best friend had always resulted in light bantering— not that you minded. Despite what everyone says about Jongho, (that he was someone who always plaster a cold exterior) you knew he had that warm light inside of him. His sense of humour and brightful personality was what made you want to get to know him more.

"Thanks a lot for doing this for me." Jongho spoke up. You smiled, "Don't go soft on me now, what are friends for?"

Oblivious, you didn't take notice on how Jongho's shoulder seem to slump— disappointed by your response. He was quick to cover up by bumping into your shoulder playfully, chuckling as you hit him back dramatically. Nearing to the destination, he walked up first to open the door. You didn't bother picking up on his gentleman act, having being used to his gesture.

"I'll get us a drink." He declared as the both of you found a seating. "Don't forg-" He was quick to interrupt you, though. "Forget to add in more whipped cream, got it."

With your order, he made his way to the queue. Your attention now being directed to the stage, listening to poetry slam— watching as the man stumble with his words, the beat of the drum not matching up to his speech. Letting out a sound of amusement, you turned your head to the tinted window— only to catch your attention at a certain symbol.

The same symbol you drew.

Without much though, you walked out of the cafe to take a closer look. Crossing the road carefully, you made your way to the open alley— observing excrutiatingly at the drawing. Your heart having picked up the sense of familiarity as your brain couldn't seem to remember. You didn't know you had taken so long outside until you heard Jongho's voice, followed by his hand holding onto your shoulder.

"Hey, why are you out here?" He asked, startling you out of your daze. Shrugging off, you could only utter, "I don't know."

He was about to question further when you turned to face him abruptly. "Let's go back." You grabbed his hand as you led him back to the cafe— thankfully, your seat was not being taken.

"Are you alright? You're being awfully quiet." He asked, noticing that you were in your head and was not paying attention to the event. You looked up at him with a small smile, "It's nothing, I'm just tired."

"Agony. Pain. Suffer." The voice of the performer acting out his scene.

"Tell me about it." He joked. "We'll finish up and go, you want another packet of sugar?" You nodded, "The brown one, please."

"Gotcha."

Watching him walk off, you let out a sigh of relief. You noticed a blonde-haired girl eyeing your best friend, a smile played on your lips as you observed the both of them exchanging greetings. You also couldn't help but notice that she kept staring at Jongho, obviously taking interest in him. Your heart soared, happy that your best friend had a chance to find someone. However, you were quick to assume when he walked away— rather quickly to your seat, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Why'd you leave so quick." He looked at you confused, "That girl you just talked to, she's totally into you."

He shrugged, not finding interest in the topic. "Not my type." You scoffed, "Oh please, you can go to her. I don't mind."

He scoffed back, "And leave you alone. No way." You groaned at his stubborness, "Act like that and you're gonna be single for life." You said jokingly, sprinkling the sugar onto your cup.

He didn't seem to take offense to your insult as he shrugged. "Maybe I'm saving myself for someone." You looked around dramatically, as if trying to search for who he was talking about. "Who?"

He didn't get to answer your question when the cheers and clapping sounds from the audience interrupted him, though you could see that he seemed relief to have avoided the topic altogether. Not soon after, the both of you joined in— acting as if you were listening to the awful speech.

The sky eventually went dark as the both of you took a detour, looking through every single local clubs that were available. As you past through every one of them, your eyes landed on the sign— with the same damn symbol on it. You turned towards Jongho as you pointed at the place. "Let's go here."

"Do you think it'll work?" Jongho asked incredulously.

"Of course it will."

Walking towards the entrance of the club, you were about to recite your script that you had prepared when the person behind the both of you cut through. His eyes were electric blue, hair spiked and his body covered in tattoos— all of which were random signs and symbols that had no meaning. "What an asshole." Jongho murmured.

Annoyed with the guy's rudeness, you looked up only to have an idea popped onto your head, "Actually, follow my lead." Ignoring his protest, you walked up to the bouncer with a confident facade as you pointed at the sign on top. "What does that symbol mean?"

Your question perked up the man that skipped ahead of you, turning around to look at you as he shared a look with the boucer. The man briefly whispered in his ear.

"What are you talking about?" Jongho harshly commented, his face panicking as he thought you had lost your mind. "Relax." You assured, focusing ahead as you watched the two men interact.

Not a moment after, the bouncer allowed the both of you inside. You let out a sigh of relief as you turned around to face Jongho with a smug smile.

"Did you went here without me before?" He asked in amusement.

The further you went inside the club, you squeezed your way through the crowds of drunkard people. Their bodies swaying to the side as the upbeat music echoed and flashing lights shining through the room. Jongho struggled to trail behind you, a look of discomfort takes over his face.

"Do you want a drink?" He asked— well shouted, as he was trying to overpower the loud music. You replied back with the same volume, "Yeah, but just water please!"

You looked around, your eyes catched a sight of the man who let you in the room. You were about to walk up to him, ready to ask him questions when his eyes looked behind you. Turning around, you caught sight on the most gorgeous woman in the room, her black hair swayed down her shoulders— the tight white dress complimented her curves, the tilted smirk of her lips as her sultry eyes bored onto the man.

Your eyes followed his movements, watching him walk towards the woman. You couldn't ignore the sudden feeling in the pit of your stomach, your feet following the both of them in the other area of the club— which is still in an open area, where everyone could see. You began to worry.

Something felt off.

Just as you predicted, the ring on the woman's fingers began slithering its way like a snake, transforming into a metal coil as it began wrapping itself on the man's neck. You gasped in shocked, completely in disbelief as you continued to watch the scene unfold.

The gurgling sound of the man struggling to gasp for air was spine-chilling. He clawed his hands around the metal coil but that only enrages the woman. The fury of the woman turned the colours of her eyes green as she balled her hands into fists— which made the material tightened around his throat. You looked around panicking as you noticed how the crowded room didn't seem to react at all at the murderous scene that was happening right in front of their faces, as if these people were invisible.

Shortly, a figure came in and began holding the man down— you watched helplessly as he was pleading for his life. Just then, another man came emerging through the crowd with his hood up, hiding his identity. You could only make out the black strands of his hair that was sticking out as he pulled out a weapon. His hand tracing along the lines of those threatening, sharp knife.

Without much thought, his knife sliced against the man's throat— completely decapitating his neck clean off. The blood began splattering everywhere, only now that you realised that the blood was black in colour as the fog escaped his body like acid. The sound of the man hissing in agony made you scream at the top of your lungs.

The three individuals hastily turned their heads towards the sound, seeing you in utter horror— from the way you covered your mouth as you teared up at the gruesome sight. The dead man was transformed into a horrifying parasite before it melted away into nothingness.

Your sudden screaming has also alerted the people in the room, who turned their heads towards you in confusion— not seeing the brutal death of the man. Your eyes dart towards the three people, their eyes staring back at yours. You could finally see the face of the hooded man. He was the last to fled the scene, taking a couple of steps closer towards you as his gaze was set at yours. His hooded eyes began to squint, as if trying to recognise you.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" Jongho was at your side in an instant, his hand grabbing onto your face to make you face him. You couldn't listen to his words, not when the fresh memory keeps repeating itself at the back of your head.

"I know what I saw." You rushed out of the club. "They killed that guy!" You repeated for what seemed to be the millionth time, still shaking from fear.

"Did you drink something, perhaps?" He asked, following your steps as he reached his hand out to call for a cab. "I heard that these people popped some stuff in the air to make sure we have a good time." He explained, trying to find some logical reasonings for your outbursts.

"Then how come you're not affected by it." You shot back, your makeup now smudged from the tears you let out previously— in a state complete mess. Thankfully a taxi came to a stop as the both of you hopped inside, his constant assurance only left you with more anxiety.

You knew what you saw.

After bidding your goodbye's, you were quick on your feet to make a beeline to your room— shutting your eyes in hopes to get some rests. Your vision clogged and your mind went black as you succummed to the darkness.

The morning after, groaning as you let out a stretch— rubbing your eyes but hissing at the sudden burning sensation that made your eyes water. Looking down, your hands were completely smudged with the ink of your pencil. In shock, you looked around your room as you gasped in horror. Papers were scattered across the floor, hung up and pasted on your cream textured walls. The same drawing accumulating in your room. You grabbed onto a couple and shoved it inside your bad, dashing out of your room as you made your way to the door.

However, you didn't make it far when the voice of your mother stopped you. "You went back late last night." Her usual nagging tone bugged you, not in the mood to get yelled at.

"I know, I'm sorry but I really have to go now." You pleaded, turning around to face your mother. Her eyes widened in shock seeing you in such a distress state.

The dark circles under your eyes are prominent as your hair flung in every direction. Despite the amount of sleep you had last night, it was as if you hadn't slept in days. "You can't leave."

You scowled in annoyance. "Yes, I can. I'm just going to hang out with Jongho, mom. It's fine." Your mother wasn't convinced, "So what? You're going to go off to him when you have problems, isn't that more of what you would do to a boyfriend." This time, you didn't detect any playfulness in her voice— it was as if she was hurt that you couldn't confide in her.

It was then that she realised that she needed to tell you the truth. Now. However, before she could utter a word— Jongho made his presence known as he stepped inside the house, which gave you the opportunity to fled, ignoring your mother's calls.

Showing the drawings to Jongho, you could only explain the events that had been happening as you watched his face contort to confusion— obviously not believing your spiel. Sitting at the cafe with eyes like a mad woman, it was difficult to convince Jongho. Ignoring his advice as you saw the same hooded man from the club, ignoring your train of thought. Your eyes widened in horror as you cowered away from his vision.

"What? What are you looking at?" Jongho asked exasperately as he began scouting around.

"Wait here." You said before running off, in hopes to finally get some answers— even if it killed you.

"Who the fuck are you?" You sneered nastily, shutting the back door that was leading you to an alley. The man chuckled at your rudeness.

"Lovely girl, aren't you?"

"This isn't funny! You killed someone, you're a murderer!" You accused, shouting at the man.

"I prefer to be called Jeno, actually." He stated as a matter-of-factly. "But I guess people who love to assume can call me that too."

"I know what I saw." You retorted.

"You think you know what you saw." He pointed at you, his eyes hardened.

Grabbing his hands to take a closer look at his tattoo, the same symbol being drawn on his hand— with shaking hands, you dug under your pockets to retrieve the drawing that you drew as you shoved it up to his face. "Why do I keep drawing this."

He hummed, taking the piece of paper as he observed it. "It's a mundane." He explained, as if there was no further explanation needed.

"What's a mundane?" You asked incredulously, prodding the man to continue. He looked down at you, his voice dropping an octave. "Someone that's from the human world."

"Well, if I'm not a human then what am I?"

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

©ruwriteshours

#jeno smut #lee jeno smut #jeno angst #jeno fluff #jeno imagines #kpop fanfic #nct fanfic #nct dream imagine #nct dream fanfic #lee jeno #lee jeno imagines #jeno fanfic

[nilufleur]

BEING HARUCHIYO'S CLOSE FRIEND / 29. 10. 2022

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sanzu haruchiyo, one of the most irritating, stubborn and difficult people one can meet. though he most of the time is an insufferable person theres people he enjoys being around with and people who enjoy his (overwhelming) presence aswell

at first it is easy to assume that he is not a trustworthy person, but haruchiyo is very devoted to people he cares about. hes basically a 'ride or die' for the people he loves

the things that draw him close to people are little characteristics that are often overlooked. he creates an image of someone's personality by just having small conversations here and there

the people he is close to are usually the people he has been friends with since a long time, childhood friends to be more precise. he is not afraid of meeting new people, he likes changes he likes seeing new faces but as i said, letting them get close to him is a different matter

so getting to the point, what drew haru close to you was your persona. honest, laid back and humourous. he has a strange sense of humor, he squeezes his sharp jokes in his sentences that often go unnoticed. he was slightly impressed when you laughed at them, since he thinks that 'only smart people get his jokes' (yes, he is an egomaniac)

after that he started to always say hi to you whenever he saw you. sometimes it was loud and audible and sometimes it was just a little smile while passing next to you, but he would always acknowledge your presence

haruchiyo has a creative mind and you got convinced of that more day by day when he would randomly show up and ask you the strangest question with no context, nod after hearing your reply and just go away

this little habit still continued after you two became very close friends. it was hard to understand him sometimes but it was also very fun to you to be in his chaotic presence

as a filmbro myself i am sensing that haru would definitely enjoy watching films. he would also invite you to movie marathons at the most absurd time something like

"theres 3 al pacino movies in a row at the cinema can we go?"

"haru its the final exams week and its currently 2am shut the fuck up and keep studying"

yes studying with him is a pain in the ass

he would always be the one to invite you to study at a cafe but end up getting nauseous from all the milkshakes he had just because 'he got tired from all the studying (he didnt study) and needed a treat' and throw up in the public restroom

he is lactose intolerant but acts like he isn't

it's hard being friends with him cause he is generally a very spontaneous person

but you got used to it so it doesn't surprise you anymore when he does stupid shit like showing up at your apartment drunk with a board game in his hands in the middle of the night

he loves board games but he sucks like he is so bad its actually painful to watch him play

haruchiyo would definitely force his best friend to get a matching tattoo with him. at least hes got good taste so the tattoos turn out pretty cool

and he would also pretend to be surprised whenever he saw your tattoo saying shit like "stfuuu omg we have the same tattoo!!♡" punk ass bitch

constantly gossiping and its honestly so fun to do it with him cause he always has to most out of pocket information about people

would definitely introduce you to his close friends circle and after meeting them he would ask you about what you thought of each one of them

hes actually annoying and has no clue about what privacy but we can ignore that cause he always bring you something to eat when he gets in your apartment without permission

would he be a jealous friend? possible. but i dont think he would be overly jealous or protective. only gets a little annoyed when you talk about "you guys' stuff" with someone else and act all hurt and dramatic so you would eventually apologise

he has a very good sense of style and would buy you random clothing piece so you could match with him. yes. he loves matching outfits it's his guilty pleasure

i can imagine this mf saying the most philosophical gut wrenching intelligent thing humanity has ever heard and and then just say "anyways i gottta pee"🗿

sleepovers but he always sleep in your bed and takes up all the space

he once threw out one of your sweaters bcs he didn't like it

"sanzu my dead grandma made that for me"

"but it looked ugly 😐"

cooking a recipe with him at 3am but you guys got distracted and ended up causing a mini-fire

he has all of the CDs of the cars movies and always say "he just like me fr" when lighting mqueen does that kachow thing

overall he would be a good friend i think. funny and spontaneous not very reliable but always trustworthy

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this was disguised sanzu slander if you coudnt tell

© nilufleur

#tokyo revengers #sanzu haruchiyo #haruchiyo akashi #tokyo revengers headcanons #manjiro sano #baji keisuke #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #ran haitani #rindou haitani

[aviatorzk]

Cadet at home (3)

Perhaps you think I was involved in this whole cadet thing a bit too much. Perhaps you find it hard to believe that an otherwise normal 14-year old would choose to put on a uniform on his day off, iron his own shirts and talk to his peers about nothing other than being a perfect cadet.

Perhaps you find it hard to believe that that same 14-year old would impose that same peculiar discipline on his younger brother – remove his cute t-shirts, punish him for a small irregularity in his appearance, encourage him to obey his corporal’s instructions to the letter, even it meant wearing a leather punishment harness.

Perhaps you think it’s all a bit weird (some Tumblr folks have suggested this).

You are right, of course.

It was weird.

That only became clear to me after we moved away from South East Asia, back to Europe, back to a world where literally no one wore uniform, and boys like me would only be seen in shirt and tie at funerals or weddings – and then very reluctantly. I made friends, after my 18th, with guys who didn’t know how to tie a tie and didn’t own one.

I used the word ‘pure’ now and then. That is what I felt like, at the time. The world around was messy; most of the kids in school were pretty stupid, obsessed with brands and F1 and watches, things I didn’t care about at all.

Our parents were diplomats, and they were professionally nice to people from countries doing unspeakable things – and they drew us in. I mentioned that we had to join receptions and garden parties and such, and we were expected to chat politely to anyone older than us.

I distinctly remember talking to a creepy representative of a creepy gulf state, the kind of place where people are flogged for having a blog, and where women can’t drive cars. I was the picture of polite respect: ‘Of course, Your Highness, you are entirely correct, a country must impose discipline, otherwise, how could it achieve sensible progress?’

So ‘pure’ meant: ‘just myself’, as in ‘I am distinct from the mess around me’. I noticed that other kids in my situation would take to smoking pot a lot – in their perfect school uniform, of course – or even drink (easy to get your hands on Dad’s stash). I didn’t do that. I became focused, precise, meticulous – I guess I do have the cadet discipline to thank for making me a well organised and efficient student.

I mentioned before that there was an element of revenge in all of that. I made my parents feel I liked them well enough, but I didn’t need them. And they felt it, or rather: my Dad did (my mother began to develop a successful affair with the bottle, at the time).

When we chatted, casually, in passing, I would always straighten up, put my hands behind my back. I would never end the conversation by myself, but wait for him to indicate that he had run out of things to say. I deliberately sabotaged his chumminess.

He felt my disapproval, my selfishness, a hint of accusation, but he didn’t care too much.

He was pleased that his boys would stand to attention when one of his pompous guests arrived. ‘Yes Sir. Thank you Sir. Third year cadet now, Sir. Very kind of you to ask, Sir. Best thing about cadets, Sir? Obedience, I think, Sir?’

I was aloof but loyal. I lent a hand serving drinks. People appreciated my clean disciplined appearance.

(Note the perfect crease in the sleeve, if you will)

I was meticulous in everything. I hated being sloppy. I was never late. I did my own chores. I cleaned my room, and I mean: everything. I made the bed, I cleaned the floor.

I loved polishing my shoes to absolute perfection. It was a zen-like process, I went completely ‘clear’ when I did that.

I only asked my parents for the right kind of clothes, the best quality cadet shirts they were willing to pay for, the best boots, the expensive boot polish.

By being an excellent student and a perfectly clean person my parents had no reason to complain and I could avoid them.

I was free from their interference, and so: free.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Wildest Dreams: Part 6

“Can I ask?” Her voice came from your bed, her hands tucked into her sweater and held against her knees as she sat cross-legged. “If you’re just going as friends, why are you putting so much effort into what you’re wearing?”

She was the omega who worked in the library, who spent most of her time with her nose between a book and her head down to remain as invisible as possible. You and she had met when you were pouring over medical books for a distinct and hard-to-diagnose disorder that you were writing a paper on.

She helped you not only find the book you were looking for but also helped you recover your research library code when you forgot it. A friendship was struck weeks before, and she was the first omega you thought of when you asked her for her help. She had come over as soon as she could, agreeing to listen to you as you spilled everything you could within the time you were given.

“I don’t know, I just…” You shrugged and tilted your head while looking at yourself in the reflection of the mirror. “I am irritated with them. I’m angry and I felt abandoned but part of me missed them. A huge part of me missed them, they were my best friends. But then I looked at their Instagrams -“

“-which were all taken with friends. Not their hookups. They told you they were only together right?” You glanced at her through the smooth and reflective surface, watching her as her fingers toyed with a few loose strings on her sweater, her head tucked and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

“B, you okay?” You questioned your friend.

You made a point of calling her bunny or B, the nickname she had grown up with in the same way you’d been called Omega Bean. It was a pet name that stuck, something you couldn’t shake and you felt like it suited her well. She was frightened at times, skittish and shy, which in part was one of the reasons behind the cutesy nickname.

Bunny suited her, it was a personification of her personality and you admired that.

“There’s this alpha who’s been coming to the library over and over again. I’ve never seen him before a few weeks ago and I think he might…” She bit down on her lip again, a nervous habit both of you seemed to share. “I mean alphas come through the library all the time, it’s not like there’s a rule that no alphas can come by but-“

“Is he making you uncomfortable? Are you uncomfortable with him being there? Because you can say something.” Your task of choosing what to wear was forgotten and replaced by the conversation with B. You drew yourself back to the bed and sat upon the mattress with her, taking the same position she had to fold your legs under you. There was a brief skiff of silence while she gathered her thoughts and then started unloading what was on her chest and mind.

“He’s a football player and he’s huge. I mean massive like he could squish me with one hand without even trying. He’s intense and when he comes into the library he always finds me, like almost immediately.” She raised her head and drew her hands over her thighs, anxiously rubbing them to clear her skin of any sweat. “I think his name is Ari..?”

“Ari…” Your eyebrows had become furrowed, your lips pursing while you started thinking and recalling any of the players you had seen just an hour or more before.

“He kind of scares me but just because he’s so big. He commented on the necklace I wear, and he wanted to know what the symbol meant.” Your eye dropped to the green jade charm hanging off a gold chain, and further to the charm that was nestled between the jade stone. “I told him that it’s a good luck charm, it’s meant to bring good fortune.”

“It sounds like he likes you like really likes you.” You beamed, excited for her even though your own experience with alphas was temporarily troubling. “B! This is exciting!”

“Do you think he actually does or is he just trying to…have fun?” She tilted her head, drawing her hands from her thighs to the front of her sweater, giving the front a quick tug. “He’s so tall and imposing, but his scent is addictive. Sort of.”

“I think he wants to get to know you, and if he just wanted to have fun and screw around you’d be able to tell. Alpha’s like that seemed to give off those vibes. Do you get those vibes from him?”

“He’s nice, he seems nice anyway.” She tapered off, drawing her gaze back toward the stack of books on your desk haphazardly set on the hard surface. Silence had temporarily come and had been broken again when she spoke and pointed toward one of the dresses you had thrown across the back of your chair.

“You should wear that dress, it’d look good on you.”

The place they wanted to go to was a few blocks off campus, nestled in between a little café and a hobby shop, both of which had been lit by vintage Edison lights centred in the bay windows. You had stopped before entering the diner, taking as much time as you needed to admire all the nicknacks set on shelves in the bay window of the hobby shop, analyzing and admiring the vintage-feeling toys or kits for building handmade items.

You were so enthralled by this place you’d never seen before that you allowed yourself to get distracted which in turn meant your focus was only broken by Steve’s voice. He had peered out of the door of the diner, holding onto the wood with one hand while the other had been busy waving you inside.

“Not ditching are you?” Steve teased when you slipped by him to enter the diner, his eyes following you until you were standing in the entrance.

It was amazing to see the décor of the diner that made you feel as if you were taking a step back in time to the early half of the century. From the entrance on, the entire diner was decorated with vintage lighting and seating, a remodelled early subway car was set in the middle of the place with steely barstools set before a unified table that stretched from one end of the car to the next.

You didn’t know what captivating detail you wanted to hyper-fixate on, it was all mesmerizing and you were rightfully enraptured by it all. When you expected to have dinner as friends, you didn’t think Steve and Bucky would’ve taken you someplace that was so amazing. You had half expected the place to be something ordinary, someplace that wasn’t as captivating as this.

“This is….wow.” The smile that formed on your face had been impossible to negate, and you weren’t aware of how Steve or Bucky were looking at you.

You had been completely oblivious to the feel of his hand on the small of your back and Bucky’s alluring and soft smile that crept on his face. You were oblivious to the two alpha’s, their scents and their reaction to how excited you were about this place. You hadn’t been aware of the way they were looking at you while you studied every inch of this eclectic and aged aesthetic restaurant they’d brought you to.

It was innate and telling, the way they were watching you with fascination, admiration and devotion. If only you could have been a fly on the wall overlooking the three of you then you would’ve been able to see the two alphas in a completely different light. If you could have been omniscient, you would have crumbled.

“This place is amazing.” Your admiration for this place was met with their own and it had bled into the gentle touch of Bucky’s hand resting against yours as he led you to the table.

“Knew you’d like it.” Steve had taken the place across from you in a booth, almost immediately reaching for Bucky’s hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

He tapped his fingertips against Bucky’s knuckles, the soft affection drawing a soft sigh from the alpha next to you. You were unable to stop yourself from turning your head to look at Bucky, your gaze settling over him in studiousness that had felt renewed and invigorated. You’d seen them around campus, you’d seen them at practice and on Instagram, but being so close to him had given you a better look at the beautiful boy.

You’d remained silent when you looked at Steve with the same intensity, your eyes committing every minute detail of his face to memory, not that it hadn’t already been engrained in your mind.

Steve and Bucky were both, easily, the most beautiful alphas you had ever seen, and your composure was slipping every minute you spent with them. Your fight, your internal battle to keep yourself at a distance, was becoming a double-edged sword that would either destroy you or ignite the fire of remembrance.

Were you going to retain your edge and keep them at a distance? Or were you going to give in and let yourself become consumed and overwhelmed by their projected comfort and warmth?

“We’re sorry we had to leave you.” Steve had drawn your attention to himself, the apology that fell from his tongue and lips had settled into your skin, becoming another harrowing crack in your defence. “We didn’t want to leave.”

“We didn’t have a choice.” Bucky leaned into you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “We would’ve never left you, Bean.”

“I know.” You dropped your eyes and chewed the inside of your cheek, the urge to cry hounding you as your chest grew tighter and your eyes had begun to water. “I know you didn’t want to, but it still-“

“I’m sorry, we’re sorry.” Bucky slipped his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against his side with just enough of a physically and emotionally charged catalyst to make you crumble.

Your hands fisted his shirt and your face was hidden in his chest, you had curled up as best as you could while in the booth. There was no end to your tears when you began to break down against him, as angry as you could’ve been, as hurt and bitter as you were, it was nearly impossible to ignore the way your body and hindbrain were screaming for them.

It was impossible to shut off the warmth that surged through you, and the feeling of absolute peace that had inflicted you when you pressed yourself against him. Being pressed against Bucky as you broke down, cried and simpered into his chest, was as natural as breathing. It was as natural and cathartic as your heart beating in your chest or your brain firing off neurons.

“We’re never going to leave you again.” Steve’s whispers had become a vow, his voice echoing a promise while Bucky smoothed down your hair and crooned softly to you while clinging to him. “We are never breaking apart, we’re together again.”

“We’re not leaving you, Omega Bean.”

Your shiver was noticed by both of them, it was impossible to let anything by the now. Their reaction was as closely timed to the second shiver that ran through you, and the weight of Bucky’s jacket across your shoulders produced a soft smile that tugged on your lips.

You slipped your arms through the sleeves of his jacket, and while your hands were obscured by the lengths you had still tightened the front around you. The three of you had left the restaurant a half hour ago and had begun walking back to campus, the idea of taking a cab or Uber was thrown out when you decided to spend more time with them.

“This doesn’t count as a date.” You bit the inside of your cheek, delivering the statement that made both alphas stop and look at you with matching expressions on their face. “I just thought you should know-“

Steve and Bucky had tilted their heads, almost like a set of Labrador puppies interested by the squeak of a toy, and it took all your composure to resist breaking into a grin at their confusion. There were staring at you in silence, every passing beat of quietude making their eyes narrow slightly until you broke and laughed under your breath.

“That’s not funny.” Steve’s lips formed a hard line, the pursing of his lips and the sternness in his voice producing another small laugh from you. “That was mean.”

“It was funny! You should’ve seen the look on your faces!” It felt natural and easy to joke with them as if nothing had come between you and no time had passed. “That’s not funny.”

You mocked Steve and chortled again, beaming when he huffed and rolled his eyes. He was trying, in vain, to hide his smirk or the overcoming surge of this scent that was rooted in excitement for the joking manner between you two. He had looked away to keep his composure, and while he had Bucky had steppe toward you with a small wrapped box.

He had stepped before you and turned over your hand, resting the box against your palm. He had closed your fingers around the wrapping paper. It was crooked and cockeyed with a bunch of tape holding it together, though you were more interested in the tag that had your name scrawled across the width.

“This is for me?” You questioned both of them, gaze flitting from one to the other as you stood beneath a street light. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Omega Bean, baby this is-“ Steve started, letting the endearment slip with a heft exhale and the furrow of his brows.

“-It’s not a courting gift.” Bucky had spoken over him, nervously drumming his fingers against his thighs. “I mean unless-“

“What is it?” You tore the paper from the box with eagerness, ignoring the two nervous alphas in favour of opening their gift and turning over the box.

The object fell into your hand and your fingers closed around the gift to keep it from slipping from your grasp. You tucked the empty box under your arm before you opened your palm and cast your gaze upon the handmade bracelet from daycare. The cheap plastic beads were coloured with Christmas and winter colours, added and strung along a piece of elastic, and in the middle of the bracelet were their initials written on a small wooden bead.

“You still have this?” You immediately slipped the bracelet on your right wrist, turning your wrist to the right and left to admire the beads. “I can’t believe you still have this!”

“It doesn’t have to be-“ Steve had attempted to reiterate his previous statement, not willing or wanting to push you past your limits.

“I love it,” you cut Steve off to step before Bucky, standing on your tippy toes to brush your lips against his in a soft, fleeting kiss, “this is incredible.”

You drew back from Bucky and stepped in front of Steve, led by your instincts and hindbrain. The kiss against his lips was just as soft and fleeting although he had quickly grabbed hold of your waist to prevent you from running. The kiss was deepened, every powerful feeling slamming into you all at once as his lips danced against your own. You were drawn away from him, pushed toward Bucky and his searing kiss that was just as addictive as Steve’s.

“We want to do so much with you.” Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he cupped your cheeks and breathed you in. “We missed you so damn much.”

“I missed you too.” You whispered back, your reply soft and tender. “I missed both of you.”

“Bean-“ Bucky had drawn his hand further down your cheek, speaking your nickname with a wavering voice.

“It’s okay, Bucky.” You kissed him softly, again, and then stepped away from him. “I would like a piggyback ride through-“

“Me first.” Steve stole you away from Bucky, crouching down to let you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. “Back to campus.”

Permanent Tags List: @jennmurawski13-writes @beardburnsupersoldiers @rebekahdawkins @supraveng @bookfrog242 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @loveitorleaveit20 @alexakeyloveloki @socalgem1124 @mogaruke @dreamlessinparis @frisky975 @dispatchvampire @hereforbuckyandsteve @jesgisborne @fairybnha3 @hallecarey1 @tang082646 @mrslokibarnesrogers @deputy-videogamer @posionivy0061 @loving-life-my-way @kaylamcd2000 @mercyy98 @rootcrop @whatinthestyles @slutforsteve @cornmousequeen @rededfoxy @yagurl-snow @glimmering-darling-dolly @patzammit @buckymydarlingangel @missusbarnes-rogers @andy-is-gay @nervousfandom @rileyloves5 @emi11ie @carelessreadersstuff @readingandwritingandreading @cynic-spirit @inkedaztec @gh0stgurl @cats-and-sheep @pono-pura-vida @seitmai @teambarnes72 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @miss-rebel-without-applause

#stucky x reader fluff #stucky x reader angst #stucky x reader smut #alpha!stucky x omega!Reader #alpha!stucky x omega!reader fluff #alpha!stucky x reader #football!alpha!stucky #football!steve rogers #football!alpha!bucky barnes #football #college football au #university au #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega #wildest dreams series #wildest dreams masterlist #wildest dreams #wildest dreams part 6

[coldhndss]

──★ ˙ ̟ Blue Lock Matchup No.4 @yae-mikko

Hello! Not gonna lie, I was kinda excited to write this since I am comically obsessed with the character I matched you with (I’ve started this straight after I finished the last one despite me being sleepy BUT here I am, and here it is!).

So unless the header hasn’t made it obvious enough, I’ve matched you with Nagi Seishiro!

―୨୧⋆  “...dependence on the situation and people. I am someone shy and reserved, I seem like someone cold (INFJ) but I am the least cold person in the world, so if I notice that the other person is shyer, I take the initiative.”

These of aspects of someones personality can either be the make or break of a friendship. If both people in a conversation are too shy to interact with each other, the convo will fall out and it’ll overall be pretty awkward. Seeing how Reo, someone extroverted and outgoing was able to drag the unwilling Nagi out of his shell, I think you’d be able to do the same!

With your ability to take the initiative if the other party is too shy, or in Nagi’s case, too quiet and unbothered, your friendship would definitely flourish. With him coming off as typically cold due to his demotivated and listless nature, and you being someone able to adapt to this easily, he may even feel at ease knowing someone like you isn’t overbearing and loud, and how you may even share the same demeanor as him at times. Though we don’t see it much in the manga, I feel as though Nagi has some unspoken loneliness to himself that isn't really mentioned. Meeting someone like you would definitely open up his view to the different types of people that are out there that he never really took the time to notice or appreciate.

I don’t really take by MBTI that much, I usually just use it to grasp a general view of someone personality for these types of things. Though in my opinion, the ‘feeling’ aspect of your MBTI would really help you to take in the things that he would leave unsaid and help you to understand how he’s really feeling inside, seeing as he doesn't usually show any sign of his emotions most of the time (I have a lot to say about this later!).

―୨୧⋆ ˚ “Mature, affectionate, empathetic, kind, intelligent, independent and I am the mother of my group of friends (and I love to pamper them)…”

These are some of the main aspects of your personality that drew me to match you to Nagi! Seeing as he isn’t usually the type of person to act for himself (pre-Blue Lock, and partially currently), he’d thrive by the side of someone who can look over him and push him to his potential. You being the mother of your group of friends (so cute!) is another thing that enhances my thoughts that you’d be a good match for Nagi. It’s kind of obvious that he sort of needs someone to take care of him and make sure he doesn’t laze and sleep around all day, and your affectionate nature would definitely enhance this. In a setting where the two of you are close school friends, this is how I imagine you would be:

I doubt Nagi sleeps in a lot seeing as he usually gets up to his alarms as we see in his manga, though you’d ring him each morning just to make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep while getting ready or anything like that. He’d thank you, saying he probably would fall asleep if it wasn’t for your calls, and convinces you to stay on the phone with him until you walk over to his house so the two of you can head to school together, claiming he might even fall asleep while walking. As surprising as it sounds, it's believable since it's Nagi. Seeing as he makes it known how he sees so many things a bother, food is no exclusion. Because of this, he doesn’t make any lunch for himself to eat at school since apparently eating bothers him too. You make sure he doesn’t make this a habit, and make food for him alongside yours the night before. He tries to distract you from the fact that he barely took five bites of it, by thanking you before placing the lid back on top, but you stop him and tell him to finish it, hinting that you won’t call him to keep him awake in the mornings anymore (the only reason this worries him is because he has a time limited game mission to complete during the time he wakes up to get ready for school). So, he ends up finishing the food despite him not being bothered to.

―୨୧⋆ ˚ “ I also defend all my loved ones with cape and swords, and I am brave and strong”.

Although we don’t get to see it much, we know that once Nagi gets heated about something, he actually gets mad. As surprising as it sounds, not everyone is like this with their loved ones. Some people simply brush it off, or don’t respond in fear of them being verbally attacked as well. For him to know that you’re there for him just as he is would definitely add an aspect of light to his dull view on some things. Although he doesn’t show it, he’d never let anyone make fun of you or tarnish your name behind your back. Seeing as he usually acts unbothered and uncaring of most things, no one would really think that he cares about being confronting for another person until they start to talk about you in front of him, needless to say, his tall and intimidating demeanour was enough to scare them off.

―୨୧⋆ ˚ “..I'm a normal girl, 1.60 cm, black/brown hair, brown eyes. I have chubby cheeks and my friends love to squish me (sometimes it hurts).”

With you being significantly shorter than Nagi (not to say that you’re short, it’s just in comparison to him). He’d see you as a cute little person that he should protect. Given that you also have chubby cheeks, as kids, I’d imagine that he’d enjoy squeezing your cheeks, saying that they’re soft and fluffy like marshmallows. Someone like him would definitely lift your confidence and make you feel better, even when you feel like nothing special (which you definitely are not!). He’s the type of person to say something really meaningful without even realising it until he sees you tear up (to which he still doesn’t realise that what he said had that much of an impact on you).

#this is currently unedited #so im sorry for any mistakes! #coldhandsss #writing #blue lock #fluff #anime #bllk #blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi fluff #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff

[astranite]

Protective is an Emotion

John and Virgil, with younger Tracies. This started off with me wanting to write John being the protective big brother and went from there. Might be a 2nd and 3rd chapter as there be ideas for them. Rather angsty so far but there shall be some hurt/comforting. John and Virgil are both autistic as I am always writing them that way tis just more obvious here.

Warnings for bullying.

---

John walked through the crowded school yard, head down, one hand tightly wrapped around the shoulder strap of his backpack. The cacophony of bodies and noise pressed in on him, the typical state of students at break time, rowdy, clamoring and far too numerous. 

He wouldn't have stopped usually, have kept pressing through until he got to the doors of the library and inside, where it was finally, thankfully quiet and he could breathe. But something caught his eye, an aberration in the pattern of swirling students and harried staff members. 

At the base of the concrete stairs leading to the art block building was a knot of students. It wasn't out of the ordinary for teenagers to gather there, half blocking the walkway for people who wanted to get past until a teacher inevitably told them off and then they inevitably returned to position as soon as said teacher was out of sight. But it still pinged in John’s brain as an important detail even before he quite realised. 

The teenagers looked to be a couple of grades below him. They formed a wall of bodies against the art building, intention all focused inward. John caught a glimpse of dark hair and flash of colourful canvas between them.

The final piece of the puzzle: Virgil had started attending the same highschool as Scott and John, beginning this week.

It could be fine, maybe it was fine, maybe the kids in Virgil’s grade would treat Virgil better than John’s supposed peers had ever done to him.

But John preferred hard evidence and he didn't put much stock in the good of humanity when it came to teenagers forced into close proximity by the mass education institution known as a school. 

Best case scenario, John could say hi and check in on Virgil, then leave him to hang out with his new friends without his weird ginger brother butting in on the conversation, and ask Virgil to tell him about them and how his day was on the bus home from school.

Worst case scenario? Well, that was why John was striding towards the group, chin up and shoulders back, doing his best to use his lanky height to get through the crowd and mimic Scott when he had something to prove. Because he was the big brother here and if there was the slightest chance Virgil needed him, that meant John was all the way in a heartbeat.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” John smiled, showing his teeth. 

Start nice, start friendly, better not to let them see a potential threat coming. If there needed to be a threat, which John sorely hoped there wouldn’t.

Several of the students jumped, whipped their heads around.

“Who’re you?” One challenged.

John made full eye contact with the teen. “I’m John Tracy.” 

The other boy looked away first. 

“We’re just talking. What’s your problem?” Another teen, closest to Virgil and pressing in on his personal space as Virgil leaned away added.

“Yeah, we’re talking,” A different student, John couldn't keep track of the faces. Then directed at Virgil: “Aren’t you going to tell us what you drew?”

They all looked to Virgil, like this was some kind of gotcha instead of an innocent question as John’s instincts screamed this was a trap.

He’d been here before. John swallowed hard.  They weren’t— It wasn’t— Appearances could be deceiving and some people didn't know when to stop because they liked the feeling of having power over others.

“Come on, give us an answer. Or is it music again, which is a sound that you hear?” A voice twisted to mocking.

Virgil was clutching his sketchbook and a canvas covered in vividly painted patterns to his chest. The concrete stairwell wall was up against his back, blocking off the exits as pleading brown eyes found John, lips mouthing his name. 

Virgil was scared, these teens were taunting him, even though there was nothing he would have done to deserve it, no one deserved it, especially not his kindest brother who wore his heart on his sleeve and wanted to help everyone. He wasn’t as strange or sharp-edged as John…

“Stop. Just stop,” John said. Blurted out, because he wished Scott was here, Scott would know what to do to fix this. John needed his big brother right now too.

One of the teens nudged Virgil in the ribs quicker than John could cross the circle to get to him. Virgil flinched and shrunk further inwards on himself, humming under his breath, the pitch rising. 

John saw red. He forced his way through the gathered teens to put himself between them and Virgil, protectiveness surging enough to take his breath away. He’d tear them apart with his teeth if that would make them leave Virgil alone. 

But it wouldn’t. And he wasn’t Scott, he was just John. He could calculate the forces involved better than he could throw a punch because he was too clumsy to be on the sports teams and didn't really want to be anyway, and he was tall like a plant that grew too fast without enough sun instead of tall and athletic, and he was only a year older than these kids no matter that he was in Scott’s grade, and he’d never won a fight when it was him because it had never ended.

Analysing variables was his language: a) he and Virgil would never win now if it came to fighting because bullies liked to outnumber you, b) getting himself suspended trying would only mean he wasn't there to protect Virgil and it would be another thing Scott would have to deal with dumped on his shoulders, and c) the smart option was to get out now.

The teens were between laughter at them and indignation, a volatile combination. Spilt rocket fuel in the school yard. 

John dropped any semblance left of the polite expression he’d been wearing. Gave the blank, emotionless, nothing look, because he knew it unnerved people even though it was just his normal face. Stared unblinkingly into the eyes of the teen directly in front of him, because apparently it was uncanny even when he didn’t mean it as a threat, the same intimidation of a barn yard cat eyeing up its prey. Somewhere that hurt but it was buried amongst John’s roiling emotions. He could use it though.

“We are going,” he stated flatly. He couldn’t think of anything else to say, the protagonists in John’s books always had a snappy line at this point except he didn’t.

He tried to give Virgil as much warning as he could, saying his name before seizing his hand.  

John broke the path, somewhat dragging Virgil with him even as he did his best to be gentle because he really didn't want to hurt his brother and he knew how scary it was, but getting away was more important right now. 

He pushed past the other students, shuddering when a grab was made at his arm and shaking it off. The boy in question loudly played what they’d done to Virgil like it was a big, friendly joke, like it wasn’t one hundred percent purposeful, couldn’t any Tracy just take a joke.

“Can’t even say anything about his own stupid drawing,” The same teen muttered to their retreating backs. 

By how Virgil’s grip went suddenly crushingly tight on his hand, John knew he had heard every word.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #john tracy #virgil tracy #autistic John Tracy #autistic Virgil Tracy #neurodivergent Tracies #astrawrite #goodnight i am tired adn need to do the sleep but have fic. why was this fic started new today with all the many wips? who knows? not me #yes i totally have a neurodivergent tracies agenda and im very happy with it and now just going all in with it

[gxdsfavgal]

Puppy Adoption

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Partner!Reader

Warnings: FLUFFFYYYYY little BLURB, I just wrote this very rushed because I thought it was cute lol

A/N: based on this tiktok https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRny1sHd/

-

-

I am a binge watcher. I love watching celebrity interviews even though I am surrounded by it in my personal life. But I have my own little favorites. It is something I look forward to every time I open YouTube. I hope to see a new upload of Buzzfeeds Puppy Interview.

I obsessed over the Chris Evans one, and even the Tom Holland one. After finding out that Drew was going to be in one for OBX, I screamed at the top of my lungs.

I begged for him to let me watch in the behind the scenes, and luckily it didn't take much begging.

So now here we are, the puppies in the crates as the cast talks to the producers on what they are doing and what type of questions are going to be asked.

I was in awe by all the tiny noses poking out through the grates of the cages, the little barks and howls. I am a dog person through and through.

Cats? Birds? Fishes? Never.

Before they filmed, the adoption manager and I had a conversation. We talked about how they are a non-profit organization and how they always have dogs of all ages to be fostered or adopted.

I was fortunate enough to snap a few pics for my Instagram story.

I didn't have pets growing up, but I kept a promise to myself that I would someday be a parent to a dog. I didn't care the breed, I just wanted to have a dog to love.

Drew on the other hand grew up around dogs, his family and his friends. He knows everything about them. He's always told me that we need to get a dog someday.

He promised me that we would get a puppy together on our second date, and I've held that promise to him.

I sat comfortably and excited in a chair behind the crew members of the Buzzfeed production team. The lights of the studio flashed "Filming In Progress", and everyone became silent.

-

Drew and the rest of the cast just finished up the Buzzfeed puppy interview. I was just in the behind the scenes trying to get some content for Drew's instagram.

"I literally cannot move" Drew whispered out as the film crew started wrapping up.

The puppy in his arms fully asleep, its head lolled back with little snores.

The OBX group was all in awe over Drew and the puppy.

"Come here." Drew asked of me, using his head to nod.

I walked past the camera and sat down on the floor next to Drew and Maddy, the other puppies coming to sniff me. I put out my hand so the pups can smell me, but also so I can lure one to hold.

"They are up for adoption right?" I asked the lady on the side who brought all of the dogs to the interview.

"Yep! Every single one of them." she smiled.

"Oh my god! I want all of them." I whispered as I held up the puppy I was holding.

"Same, I do need a travel buddy" Madelyn giggled as her chin was getting licked.

"Drew, it seems like that one is basically yours." I nodded my head towards the one in his arms.

"I wish I could make him ours." Drew petted the German Shepards head.

"Why not? We've been talking about getting a dog for months."

"I don't know, you think we should?" he asked me with a smile on his face, ready to commit to being a dog dad.

"I think you guys should do it." the lady spoke, trying to convince us to adopt.

"Wow, she's got great marketing skills." Bails said with a giggle as Austin laughed with.

"Ehh I don't know." Drew tilted his head back and forth.

"I think we should." I rested my head on Drew's shoulder, looking at the still sleeping puppy in his arms. "I think he adopted you actually."

"Do it! Do it!" the cast cheered as they made the dogs in their arms do little dances.

Drew and I's heads turned to each other, our eyes making immediate contact. We were both trying to decipher what the other one was saying.

We a little smile on his face and mine, we both did a little nod.

"We'll take him." I told the lady as I lightly booped the sleeping puppy nose.

#gxdsfavgals masterlist #drew starkey #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey obx #obx #obx drew #obx drew starkey #outerbanks #obx3 #drewseph

[writingonleaves]

like you were my closest friend - tyler seguin

pairing: tyler seguin x original female character

warnings: swearing, some angst, mostly fluff

word count: 4.1k

based on: "maroon" by taylor swift, title from that song as well

author's note: okay this isn't my favorite one because i think it's a bit rushed, but i thought i'd put it out anyways. would very much like to emphasize that this is fictional and i'm rooting for segs and his hot wife!! im a sucker for right person wrong time vibes and shit happening at weddings so here's a combo of that! also maroon is so seggy coded and you can't tell me otherwise

*****

Carmen Valez was 19 and stupid when she first met Tyler Seguin.

Working at a tattoo shop to make extra money while trying to put herself through college, she was cleaning up from her boss’s last scheduled appointment of the night when in came a group of rowdy guys. It wasn’t the first time a group of drunk guys came in looking for a tattoo. She had listened as her boss Ken came out and did his spiel and she heard laughter and some agreements so they couldn’t have been that drunk because her boss would’ve put up more of a fight.

When she first saw Tyler, she recognized him immediately. Growing up in Boston in a family of hockey lovers, how could she not recognize the rookie who had just won the Stanley Cup? As she turned the corner even more, she saw Brad Marchand and all she could think about was that she couldn't wait to tell her brothers and dad about this. 

Ken introduced her to the guys and asked her if she could set up some things. She waved in greeting and nodded, going in the back to gather the supplies needed. She tried to stifle a yawn as she re-sterilized the needles, but it didn’t work.

“Long night?”

She whipped around to see Tyler peeking in behind a curtain. “Are you looking for something?”

“The bathroom. But I think I found something much better.”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “Go to the end of the hall and it’s on your right.”

“Thanks,” he tilted his head to the side. “Are you the one who drew those flower designs that are hanging up in the hall?”

“I am. Ken asked me to draw some things so the shop wasn’t only filled with his designs.”

“You tattoo as well?”

“Oh, no way. That’s all Ken.” She shrugged. “I’ve designed some, but never physically tattooed them on someone. My hands are too shaky.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

He hummed and then went on his way to the bathroom as she finished gathering the supplies and went outside with them. 

Ken became the guy Tyler kept coming back to for his tattoos so she got to know him and despite his reputation as a partier and womanizer, she found him endearing, often making conversation with him during his longer sessions while Ken was working on him on the table and she was doing schoolwork or doodling in the front. 

It was a weird friendship because Tyler was rarely stationary in Boston and Carmen was attending Northeastern University and they really didn’t mix in any of the same circles but they kept coming back to each other. Their friendship developed to the point where he would come by on his nights off to her off-campus apartment with takeout and they would flick on a movie. He told her about his insecurities of having such a fantastic rookie year and then never amounting to anything else and she told him about her confusions of what she actually wanted to do with her communications degree. He talked about how hooking up with girls was easier than seeing if someone was only using him for his image and she talked about her view on relationships and how long distance never works. 

He would invite her to games and she’d come along sometimes, dragging her best friend along with her to TD Garden. She knew all about his lifestyle and how he’d hook up with girls left and right but when she was with him, she always only saw a 20 something year old boy who was thrust into stardom really quickly and who was fucking up like anybody else his age but being overly criticized for it because of his job. She didn’t really see him as anything more than a friend, truly. She could admit easily that he was objectively attractive and probably too charming for his own good, but she saw him as one of her dearest friends more than anything. 

(Even if she had the slightest feeling that she wanted to be more during those years, heart fluttering when he texted her to make sure she got home safe after late nights or winking at her and throwing her a puck at one of his games, causing her to grin like a middle school girl with a crush, she always pushed it away)

So when she was in the Cape celebrating the Fourth and news broke out that the Bruins had traded him to Dallas, she felt her heart drop. She ventured to a quieter area away from the celebrations and dialed his number. She wasn’t sure if he’d want to talk, but she couldn’t not call him to see if he was okay. 

From the sniffling on his end, despite what he said, she knew he wasn’t okay, and told him that when she was back in the city, she’d come around to his place with food, wine and hugs. 

The next week, when he opened the door, she dropped everything and just embraced him, holding him for several minutes as she tried to keep her tears in. She pulled away and just apologized for bringing some cheap rose that her roommate left at her apartment a couple of months ago instead of an actual nice bottle and he just laughed. She set up food from their favorite takeout place and they automatically went through all of these motions but with a sad feeling in the air. This night was going to be the last one of these, before he went back home the following weekend to Canada to spend the rest of his off season there and then head to Dallas. His apartment was already bare, having gotten started on moving out as soon as he had gotten the call.

She tried so, so hard not to cry as they put on Great British Bake Off and talked and somehow they started reflecting on numerous random moments and memories they had shared the last three years and they were both laughing as he complained about her almost spilling her wine like usual and she just threw her napkin at him. For the first time, he’s the one who splashed his wine on her t-shirt and he hiccuped and apologized and offered a shirt for her to change into and she waved him off, a blush on her cheeks either from the alcohol or from his proximity or both.

At one point, they ended up on the floor cuddling with his dogs and he asked how they even ended up there and she snorted, referencing the two bottles of rose they had downed and he had snorted and flashed her a stunning smile and her heart cracked a bit more. 

They were both dozing off on the couch — his arm thrown over her as she cuddled into his chest because they both had always been touchy when they were drunk — when he said something that would forever plague her memory. 

“I should’ve asked you to be mine.”

She blinked and shot up, looking down at him. “What?”

“I-I should’ve just asked you on a date. You could’ve been mine this whole time.”

“Tyler. You can’t say shit like that if you don’t mean it.”

“What makes you think I don’t mean it, Car?” He shot back, sitting up. “I know I’m drunk and I know I’m about to leave this city and maybe never see you again but of course I mean it.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears fell. “Tyler.”

“I don’t regret a single moment of our friendship. I just regret that I never told you how I felt until it was too late.”

“You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Stop trying to discount my words because I’m drunk,” he said sternly. “I love you as a friend, of course, but I-I love you as more too. For awhile now, I think. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same and again, I’m the dumbest guy alive for bringing this up tonight of all nights but I just…I had to tell you before I left.”

She put her head in her heads and started crying softly. “I love you too,” she admitted through her tears. “I-I just never said anything because I didn’t think you were looking for more. Jesus, I literally know two of the girls you’ve hooked up with the past year. Do you know how annoying and gross it is to hear about your performance in bed while I’m trying to cram last minute for an exam?”

He chuckled and she looked at him again and saw that there were tears running down his cheeks as well. “We’re both stupid, aren’t we?”

“We are.”

He looked up at the ceiling with quivering lips. “I’m not going to ask you for more, no matter how much I want to.”

She nodded vehemently and cupped his face with both her hands, wanting so bad to kiss his lips and using every part of her strength not to. “You’re going to be amazing in Dallas.” She brushed a falling tear and tried to give him a reassuring smile as his top lip quivered. “You’re going to become a lover of the heat and look amazing in green and start liking country music and I’m going to make fun of you for all of it.”

“But you’re not gonna be there.”

She swallowed with a small shrug. “Who knows? Maybe a job in Dallas will open up after I graduate.”

“You wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t let you. Your heart belongs to the Northeast.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” she weakly protested, slapping his arm and making him chuckle.

But he was right. And she hated that he was right.

She watched his eyes flit to her lips and she hoped that he was also fighting the urge as he placed a kiss on her forehead, which somehow was probably worse than if he had just kissed her. 

“I’m going to miss you so much.” He said, voice cracking at the edges. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, not being able to say it back because she didn’t want to completely break down. “Let’s get some sleep.”

That last night, they fell asleep on the couch like they had done numerous times before and he sent her off in the morning like he had done numerous times before, except this time she held onto him as tight as she could. Maybe if she kept hugging him, he wouldn’t have to go. 

But he had to. And he did. 

Carmen Valez was 22 when she saw Tyler Seguin again. 

After graduation, she had gotten a job in New York, and he was in town playing the Rangers. They had gone out to dinner and then to a bar for drinks and things fell back into place as they leaned in close to each other the whole night and she kissed him, bringing him back to her apartment. She woke up with marks on her collarbone and memories of his lips all over her body and cursed herself as she watched him peacefully sleep next to her because she was still in love with him. 

He had woken up with a soft but sad smile. “Has your view on long distance relationships changed?”

She bit her lip, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

He swallowed. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault you’re the easiest person to fall in love with. Can I ask one thing though?”

“Of course.”

“If your view does change, give me a call?”

“Tyler-”

“I’m serious. Whether it’s 10 days or 10 years from now, call me.”

A tear had slipped out from her eyes when he pulled her into his chest, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

Carmen Valez was 27 when she realized her view on long distance changed. And the first person she thought of was Tyler Seguin. 

They had kept in touch very sporadically throughout the years over text and had tried to meet up everytime he came to New York to play, but the contact became less and less as the years went on. She tried to pretend it didn’t hurt. She had no right to be hurt. He could live his life however he wanted.

She was going down to Dallas for one of her coworker’s weddings and was tempted to call Tyler to see if he was around — for the first time, she’d be where he was instead of the other way around — but she didn’t bother because it was the off season and she figured he was home in Canada. 

As she walked into the venue, she was shocked to see Tyler speaking to the bride’s grandma. She couldn’t help but smile at how gentle he was, soft smile on his face as he tucked the grandma’s hand into the crook of his elbow while leading her to her seat. He looked so handsome in his gray suit.

Gosh, he’s changed since they met in that tattoo parlor in Boston. They both have. But something about his smile makes her realize that almost nothing has changed at all.

When he sees her, she swears he lights up and her stomach flutters. She notices quickly that he’s a groomsman, if his matching suit with a couple of the other ushers indicates anything. He strolls up to her with his signature charming smile and she can’t help but roll her eyes. 

“Funny seeing you here.”

She scoffs, before stepping forward and hugging him tightly. “Hey Ty.”

“Hi Car.” He turns to her coworker with a stunning smile. “And hello Car’s friend. I’m Tyler. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Samantha. How do you two know each other?”

She exchanges a look with him, because it’s a long story. But she settles with, “Ran into him when he played in Boston and I went to college there, and he didn’t leave me alone.” The three of them laugh. 

“I’m assuming you both are here for the bride?”

“We are.”

He offers an arm to the both of them. “Follow me, ladies.” Carmen can tell Samantha is charmed as she rolls her eyes but grabs the crook of his elbow anyways.

After he escorts them to their seats, he has to bolt and just bids them farewell with a kiss on Carmen’s cheek and a promise to save her a dance later before ducking out of the church, presumably to help out with some behind the scenes stuff. 

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Samantha gives her a skeptical look. “We’ve been working together for two years and you failed to tell me that you know Tyler Seguin? You know I grew up a Stars fan.”

“It’s never come up.”

“Fair.” She blinks, looking for something in her coworker’s face. “You love him, don’t you?”

“What? No, of course-”

“Nice try. If your heart eyes hadn’t given you away, it was your response just now. You’ve always been a bad liar. What’s the story between you two?”

She sighs, staring at the front of the church at nothing in particular. “We met when I worked at a tattoo parlor in college and he came in and we became really good friends. He got traded to Dallas and then told me loved me on his last night in the city. Knew I didn’t believe in long distance at the time so didn’t ask for more. We slept together around a year later. My stance on long distance hadn’t changed. We’ve seen each other sporadically when I’m free and he’s in New York for a game, but not much recently.”

Samantha whistles. “Sounds like a lot.”

Carmen just snorts. She has no idea. 

“So you still love him.” 

Carmen just sighs. 

“I think he still might love you too.”

Carmen snorts, smoothing down her dress. “How could you possibly know that? You met him for maybe two minutes.”

“Maybe it’s the fact that we’re at a wedding and this could be a scene from a Hallmark movie, but I’m also pretty sure he also had heart eyes when he saw you.”

Carmen just hums, and Samantha drops it, as they shift to other safer topics. 

The ceremony is stunning and the bride is gorgeous and the groom is beaming, yet besides when the bride walked down the aisle, she can’t tear her eyes away from Tyler, standing at the front with a constant happy look on his face. As he walked down with an accompanying bridesmaid on his arm, he caught her eye and shot her a sly wink and she knows she blushed and she didn’t even try to hide it. 

The next time she caught him was well into the reception, after dinner had been eaten and the dance floor was starting to open up. She had just finished her drink before she felt a tap on her shoulder, looking up to see Tyler with an outstretched hand. 

“Dance with me?”

Without giving a verbal answer, she takes his hand and lets him lead her to the dance floor. She wraps her arms around his neck as his hands settle on her waist.

“You didn’t reach out to tell me you were gonna be in town.”

“I figured you’d be in Canada for the off-season.”

He hums, but he doesn’t buy the excuse. To be fair, she doesn’t either. “It’s really good to see you, Car.” He says, and she might be imagining him pulling her closer. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you.” 

He smirks and she feels like she’s 19 again. “I look beautiful?”

She rolls her eyes. “You do.” She says softly. “How have you been?”

And then they start catching up, and it’s so damn easy, as the conversation flows from hockey to her advertising job to their memories in Boston to their mutual friends who just got married to their families and it feels like he’s still on the Bruins and she’s still at Northeastern. At some point, they migrate from the dance floor to the empty-ish open bar and they’re still talking and she realizes how much she’s missed having him in his life. 

When she voices that out loud, his beaming smile dims the slightest. “God, I’ve missed you so much. Is this what I’ve been missing out on?”

“Don’t even start, Seguin.”

“What?”

“Blaming yourself or whatever you’re about to do. If we’re gonna blame someone, it’s all on me.”

Their first seconds of silence fall between them. “How has that been, by the way? You got a lucky guy back in New York waiting for you?”

She snorts. “Absolutely not. You? I hope I didn’t steal you away from a date or something.”

“Nah. No one for me.”

“Not at all?”

“None who have meant as much to me as you.”

She feels like her heart’s been sucker punched. Typical Tyler Seguin. Always going in for the kill. 

She switches topics. “I-I watched your Stanley Cup playoff run. You played really well. I’m sorry it wasn’t the result you guys wanted.”

“You watch my games?”

She swallows. Busted. “I try to whenever I can, even though I still feel like I’m betraying my Bruins when I do.”

He laughs, still a bit shocked. “I’m sure they’d forgive you. I was a Bruin, after all.”

She downs her drink and asks the bartender for a water. “I missed you,” she says quietly once the bartender is out of earshot. “And I always loved watching you play. Figured it was the next best thing.”

“You could’ve called. Or texted. I would’ve answered.”

She shakes her head. “That would’ve been unfair to you, especially with how I left things off.”

He chuckles, albeit sadly. “Carmen. I’m kinda weak when it comes to you. Always have been.”

She squeezes her eyes shut, a tear falling as she feels Tyler place a warm hand on her thigh over her maroon dress. “You give me way too much power.”

“I don’t think I could ever give you what you deserve, no matter how hard I try.”

Carmen wipes the tear away with a small smile. She pokes his chest. “How do you come up with this shit?”

He laughs, taking a sip of his beer, before his face settles into a more serious expression. “Can I ask you two questions, though? No bullshit. Just the truth.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Do you still love me?”

She nods at an embarrassingly fast pace.

He swallows. “Oh.”

She picks at her nails, suddenly unsure. “D-Do you still love me? It’s-it’s totally okay if you don’t. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to. It’s been years and we don’t really see each other much anymore and-”

“Of course I still love you.” She whips her head up to stare at him in shock. He runs a hand through his hair with a huff. 

She puts her hand over his that’s still resting on his thigh and interlaces their fingers together. “What’s your second question?”

“Do you still not believe in long distance?”

“I’ve been thinking…I think I’m open to trying it.”

His eyes flash in surprise as his lips turn up into a hopeful smile. “Really? You’re not fucking with me?”

“Since when have I ever lied to you, Ty?”

“Can I have a third question? And maybe a fourth?”

She rolls her eyes fondly, squealing a bit as he brings her stool even closer to him. “Was that it?”

“Smartass.” She nods at him to ask. “Would you want to try? With me?”

She swallows. “Yes.” She thinks he physically lights up, like a lightbulb with a new battery, but she holds a hand up. “But Tyler, things have changed. We’ve changed. Is this…is this really what you want? Am I really who you want?”

“I left Boston eight years ago in love with you. Here I am, eight years later in Dallas, still in love with you. Probably more in love with you, actually, which I didn’t think was possible.” He grabs her hands and lifts them to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “When do you head back to New York?”

She blinks at the abrupt change of subject. “Um, I’m actually in Dallas for another week for a work conference. So not until next Sunday.”

He grins. “Stay at mine then. Please.”

“Tyler-”

“I’ll have to head back to Canada for a couple weeks for things I can’t reschedule, but then, if you let me, I’d love to come to New York and spend some time with you until I have to come back to Dallas for pre-season.”

“Tyler, that’s…how are you so confident and sure about all of this?”

“Because it’s you,” he says. “And I love you. I’m not wasting this chance that you’ve given me.”

She bites her lip, trying to take it all in. “I’m going to need to grab my stuff from the hotel tonight.”

“Deal. I’ve only had like, two beers in the last three hours anyways. I can drive you.”

“You know that I’m not just going to…drop everything to come to Dallas, right? My job and my life is all in New York.”

“I’d be a dumbass to expect that. Your heart belongs to the Northeast.”

She smiles, momentarily flashing back to the last time he said those exact same words and how similar and different they are now. She leans forward and kisses him sweetly, like he’s coming home from a game, like she’s in the middle of cooking dinner, like they’ve been doing this all their lives. She then pulls him up and drags him back to the dance floor. 

“Would you have called me?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers into his chest, immediately knowing what he’s referencing. Eight years later and she still remembers that night like it was yesterday. “What if you were in a relationship or something? That would’ve been unfair to everyone.”

“I wouldn’t have been.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Because I’ve always loved you. At this point, I’m pretty sure that I always will.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. And as he presses a loving kiss on her forehead, she hopes he understands what she’s trying to thank him for — for coming into that tattoo shop all those years ago, for all the nights and memories in Boston that involved takeout and Netflix and endless fits of laughter, for always believing in her, for waiting for her and being understanding even when she broke his heart. 

For loving her.

“By the way,” Tyler says as he twirls her around, hands immediately attaching to her waist once she’s facing him again. “I always loved you in maroon.”

#k writes #hockey fanfiction #hockey fanfic #dallas stars #tyler seguin #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin blurb #hockey blurb #tyler seguin x oc

[gerec]

AU-gust 2023

16. Road Trip

Pairing(s): Cherik Warnings: N/A

Charles received the letter upon his arrival in Calais, which led him to believe that it had been sent before he even left England to begin his travels. Grinning, he thanked the porter for bringing his luggage, and agreed to meet his tutor Mr. Summers for a late dinner, before retiring to his room and unsealing the envelope.

Dearest Charles,

Yes, I did send this letter ahead of your arrival, as I knew you would take your time in Dover before making it across the Channel! Just know that you are missed already, as Tony’s attention span is dismal on a good day, and he is entirely insufferable without your slightly less irritating presence around to keep him in line.

(And no, he has still not forgiven his father for forbidding him to join you on the Grand Tour. I imagine dinners at the Stark household will be very chilly for the foreseeable future.)

In any case, I have made arrangements for a Mr. Erik Lehnsherr to meet you in Calais and interview as your translator and guide. The man is a bit taciturn but well-educated and well-travelled, and most importantly speaks French, German, Italian and Dutch. He comes highly recommended by Christian, who met him and took him on as a guide during his own tour three years ago.

But Emma, you say, will this man be good company on the road? And will he be easy on the eyes? While I cannot attest to the former, Christian assures me that he is quite handsome indeed, enough to meet even your high expectations. Most importantly, he shares the same worldly outlook on relationships as you do – and my dear brother of course – so I am certain you two will get along splendidly.

Do remember to write, as I suffer here in London without your charming presence at all the best parties. I will keep an eye on Raven and Dr. McCoy, and send details of their burgeoning relationship.

Yours,

Emma

----

Mr. Lehnsherr sent word the next day, and Charles was quick to agree to a meeting at the hotel. He invited Mr. Lehnsherr to join him for dinner, but the man declined, citing a previous engagement that sounded more like a contrived excuse. And while everything Emma said in her letter was true – he had travelled all over Europe, and was fluent in all the languages of the countries Charles planned to visit – he was also prickly and almost condescending, as though he didn’t quite approve of the frivolous nature of Charles’ travels. His answers, when asked after his family and where he called home, were distressingly vague and curt, and, as their conversation drew to a close, Charles could not imagine spending months on the road with this man, who proved even more infuriating than his two best friends back home.

Finally, after he’d had enough of Mr. Lehnsherr drinking his brandy and insulting England’s weather, he blurted, “Why do you even want this position? You clearly do not approve of my reasons for coming to the Continent, or even to care for my very person. This trip is a chance for me to open my eyes to the wider world, Mr. Lehnsherr, and I will not waste it at the side of someone who will hinder instead of help me.”

Mr. Lehnsherr smiled, perhaps the first genuine one of the evening and replied, “Would you welcome the truth, I wonder? Well, here it is Mr. Xavier. My work as an artist requires that I travel, and a position like this helps me with my expenses. And while I do not think you will learn anything truly meaningful and worthwhile on a trek of luxurious decadence through Europe, I am a quite capable guide, and will do an exceptional job in showing you exactly what you ask of me. Whether you choose anything beyond the attending fancy parties is entirely up to you, as is the way you choose to flaunt your privileged wealth.”

Charles was stunned, entirely unused to such harsh judgement from someone he’d met mere hours before. He bristled as Lehnsherr watched him with those steely blue eyes, sharp and accessing as though he were measuring Charles’ character and finding him lacking. Part of him wanted to send Lehnsherr away with a sound rebuke, and yet another, bigger part wanted desperately to prove him wrong; to show him that Charles was not merely a spoiled rich boy, and that he intended to use his position as heir to the Dukedom of Norfolk to better the lives of those in his care.

“I assure you that I did not take this journey on for the parties,” he countered, with just enough chill in his voice to make his affronted feelings known. “I welcome a thorough education, not just of the rich but of the poorest in the land, though, would you call it decadence if I wanted also to admire great art and learn about music and history to enrich my soul? Before I must be married off and swallowed whole by a life of duty and tradition?”

If anything, Lehnsherr’s smile only grew wider, and for the first time, he met Charles’ gaze with something like approval. “I would be happy to oblige you, Mr. Xavier, in whatever manner of decadence you wish to indulge.”

His cheeks flushed with heat at Lehnsherr words, and he remembered what Emma had intimated in her letter; that the man might share his proclivities for the same sex. He held his breath when Lehnsherr closed the distance and lightly brushed Charles’ cheek with his fingers, only exhaling when he grinned and then stepped away again.

“Well, Mr. Xavier,” Mr. Lehnsherr said, licking his lips as he took a slow sip from his glass of brandy, “do I have the job?”

Charles blinked, flushing again when he realized he’d been staring at Lehnsherr. He poured himself a refill, before turning to meet the man’s steady gaze.

“Yes. Mr. Lehnsherr. Be ready to leave the day after tomorrow.”

#cherik #gerec writes #au-gust 2023 #road trip #the grand tour #18th century #day 16

[2hoothoots]

First of all, congrats on destroying the BIG TOP! So to speak. (I'd ask if you could give it to me but they haven't invented that technology yet). Secondly, since you asked for Asks, what got you so into Norma as a character? I wanna compare and contrast. :V

hahaha THANK YOU! some day modern medicine will unlock the secret to equivalent exchange… some day

anyway, great ask because i Always have stuff to say about Norma. putting it under the cut for length (although to be fair, if you don’t want to see lengthy impassioned essays about Norma i’m not really sure why you’re following me in the first place)

first of all: i unapologetically like women who kinda suck. listen, okay, listen, i absolutely understand that the line between “fun to dislike” and “just obnoxious” is different for everyone but Norma falls entirely on the fun side for me. from her very first appearance, she’s so unnecessarily petty and snarky and competitive with this ten-year-old she literally just met, and i can’t lie i just find it incredibly entertaining. and also, y’know, i think she sucks but in a way that’s ultimately harmless and also so believable. she’s not a terrible person, she’s just a shitty teenager. i’m a Norma apologist, not in the “she did nothing wrong <3” way but the “yeah she’s mean but that’s what’s interesting about her” way. give me more female characters who are complicated and unlikable and make bad decisions!

secondly: she’s a shitty obnoxious know-it-all teenager, and boy, do i relate! maybe part of this is filling in the gaps and part of it is projection, but i look at her and i see someone with the compulsive need to “win” every conversation and prove they’re the smartest person in the room; someone who clings to their model student status because deep down they’re afraid it’s the only worthwhile trait they have, the single thing that makes them anything more than a useless waste of space with no friends and no redeeming qualities. characters who are jerks or bullies are really interesting to dive into for me, because there’s always something underneath that. Norma’s combination of annoying pretentiousness and deep insecurity is really compelling to me, and a lot of it is because i see my younger self in her. i feel like i really grok her as a character, and because of that i find her interesting to explore and write for!

thirdly, the big thing that drew me to her the same as it did the other interns was, ironically, their lack of screentime. PN2 has one too many ensemble casts, and individual development for some of the characters feels rushed, and i am first in line saying i wish we’d gotten more intern content. but what we did get was just enough to pull me in and hook me on the characters. the game left me wanting more, and honestly that’s what drove me to write so much fic of the intern cast in the first few months after release. they were so charming and felt so underutilised and i was desperate for more from them – and at the same time, because they had fairly little screentime they made a great starting point to develop further with headcanons and filling in the blanks and just turning them over in my head and imagining what could have been. what really gets my creative juices flowing is taking something from canon and building on it with my own stuff (which is also why i’ve gotten so invested in the future AU!), and the interns all have such strong concepts and starting points while also giving a lot of freedom to develop them and flex my own creative muscles.

like, i was thinking about why i never really got into the psychic 7 in the same way, and i think it does just come down to them being more fleshed-out characters in comparison. which feels so funny to say, haha – i love the old people’s club, they’re great, but i never latched onto them like i did the interns, and i think it’s because they don’t have the same fill-in-the-blanks potential. we get to learn about their backstories in pretty great detail, we get to explore 6/7 of their minds, and they all feel very succinctly developed but in a way that ties a bow pretty neatly on most of their characters. we learn so much less about any of the interns in comparison, but those unanswered questions just end up tickling my creative brain that much more. there’s a theory that people engage in transformative fanwork to give them the kind of engagement they didn’t get from the canon, and i think that’s definitely true here! maybe there’s an alternative universe out there where we got way more intern content and i never ended up writing any fics with them in, hahaha

#honestly? i don't even know if she's my /favourite/ intern #that would probably be adam #but she's definitely the one i find most interesting and most fun to write for #also i totally get why people dislike her but when i see people posting norma hate it's a straight-up instablock #like sorry you don't understand or appreciate flawed female characters. seems like a you problem #i should really draw her again. it's been too long. i miss my horrible swagless daughter #ask

[wilmerswaifuandlaifu]

There are bloggers and people out here causing OR there have been people and bloggers out here who have caused my best friend Issues/unecessary drama on this Illusionary app.

Let me tell you that She and I are the Buddha In this situation, and those bloggers/people who stirred up some unecessary Issues with the hope of provoking us (Remember that the wise/enlightened never gets provoked by any Illusionary words and any illsuonary PERSON, even If just for an example, the words and the person were real my respone would remain the same of course ♡♡♡.) Is the hinduist preist present in the true story that I've shared below:

Buddha, seated beneath the serene bodhi tree, graciously imparted his wisdom to a gathering of eager learners. Among them was a former Hindu priest, who, upon embracing Buddhism, drew the ire of a close friend deeply rooted in Hinduism. Enraged by the conversion, the priest stormed into Buddha's teaching space one day, unleashing a torrent of vile insults and curses upon the enlightened teacher.

Undisturbed by the priest's outburst, Buddha maintained his composed posture and, with a gentle smile, began to engage the agitated visitor.

Buddha: "Greetings, esteemed priest. In your temple, you offer hospitality to visiting guests, do you not?"

Priest: "Indeed, I do so with utmost reverence."

Buddha: "And if a guest declines the food you offer, what becomes of the uneaten meal?"

Priest: "The uneaten food becomes mine to consume."

Buddha: "Similarly, if a guest refuses the flowers you present, how do you handle the discarded blooms?"

Priest: "The flowers then become my possession to cherish."

Buddha: "And what of the spiritual treasures you bestow upon your guests? If they reject such gifts, what is your course of action?"

Priest: "Those gifts, if spurned, remain in my possession as well."

Buddha: "I have not accepted your curses and insults, for they do not belong to me. Instead, they rightfully belong to you. Keep them, as I have no use for such negativity in my heart. I have not said these words therefore I do not possess them like I have no other possessions."

I hope that every reader who took the time to read this post learned something from a little bit of the Buddha's wisdom, and I wish you all the best.

Be at peace and you'll never be bothered.

-Buddha 2500+ years ago.

My best friend has refrained from uttering those hurtful remarks: hence, none of those words rightfully belong to her. Those bloggers or individuals responsible for the dramatic and disrespectful comments are welcome to retain ownership of their words.

(P.S)( I've been taught this part of the Buddha's life and how he handled the sitaution, In the class that I am learning about buddhism right now.)

#buddhism #buddha #wisdom #wisdomofbuddha #the buddha #atman #enlightened #enlightenment #zen quotes #buddhist monk