Songfic - Blog Posts

twst song fic idea

so you guys know the ed Sheeran song ‘Photograph’. I can’t stop thinking about the ghost camera and if the pictures will still move in Yuu’s world. If so imagine a fox where it’s from both Yuu and the twst guy’s POV and their looking back at all the photographs took.

What da hail I got so busy 😭 I wanna write but school hit me like a truck I wanna finish that tetsuro fic😓😓😓😓 grbrgrgrggrgrr

req - hq characters (kuroo lol) saying 'i know, baby, i know' when babying/comforting yn. ervyabebwyrogbrw

please feel no rush/pressure for this and look after yourself :)

Ok igotchu pookie HWJSHAHAHS cuz I need it too. This one goes out to the girlies who crave academic validation 😋 (me)

Song: Mahal Kape Tayo — EJ Clarks, Tothapi

(this one is cute, it's basically "Love, let's go have some coffee" it's a very nice song comfort song and to just wind down to.)

Tags: hurt/comfort, being rejected from a school you really wanted to get into, still living with ur parents, your parents love him, fussy school systems, established relationship, fluff, lots of feels.

You sit down in front of your laptop in your room excitedly, squirming in your seat in anticipation waiting for the results of your college entrance test for your dream school. You studied really hard for those tests and made sure to maintain your GWA, and participate in extra curriculars so it'd look good in your admission application.

The portal finally loads, and you are prompted to enter your test ID to see if you were qualified for admission into your chosen programs.

Your heart sinks your eyes immediately lock onto the apology in the first line "We regret to inform you that after careful deliberation you have not met the standards set to be qualified for your chosen programs..." Something in you shattered, you did not qualify for even one program? "What...?"

You end up shutting off and closing the laptop before you have a chance to be sad about it, choosing not to process such news just yet. And the rest of the day ends up feeling like a fever dream. Just going through the motions, unwilling to accept what had just happened.

You snap out of your trance when your messages are being spammed by your boyfriend.

Tetsuro: Babe

Tetsuro: Baby

Tetsuro: Love

Tetsuro: I saw the post made by (insert university), and saw that the results just came out. How'd it go?

Tetsuro: I bet you passed for sure. Congratulations🥳

You decide not to beat around the bush and give it to him straight.

You: I didn't get in.

The chat bubble that signifies he's typing goes on and off, and finally stops for a while. Second turn into minutes, and you realize he went offline. (💀)

You wonder why he's taking so long. You lay in your bed moping, no tears yet, stuck between "I wanna break down and cry." and "I wanna do something about it."

Sure, you could send an appeal. But the thing is, the school, and programs you chose was highly competitive. What if you're met with yet another rejection?

After a while there's commotion that stirs outside your window, and you brush it off as your neighbors coming to have a chat with your parents. That is, until you hear your mother call out your name and say "Come outside! My son is here."

You sit in your bed confused, you think, Huh?? Duh, my brother lives with us what are you talking about? I see him all day everyday.

But you reluctantly get up and go see what she's talking about anyway. Upon leaving your room and exiting the house through the front door, you're surprised to see Tetsuro standing there with your parents holding a bouquet of flowers, and paper bags stuffed with goodies in one hand.

"Look *anak, he's been looking for you." Your mom chimes in mischievously, and gives you a shit eating grin, while your father only chuckles as he pats Tetsuro's back and reminds him "No funny business." before they turn around and head out to make a grocery run.

We bid my parents goodbye, then he steps forward and gives you a boyish smile, stretching his free arm out for you. "Hi... Sorry I didn't reply right away, I had to pick some stuff up."

You let out a sigh of relief and hug him "You scared me. Who does that?" He looks at you apologetically, as he wraps his arm around you. "I know, I'm really sorry. I was out to get these, — (motioning to the flowers) — and I wanted to get some extra stuff. Please let me make it up to you."

And you do. You nod into his chest, breaking away from the hug gently to lead him into the house and into the living room. "Sit down Tetsu, I'll get you somethi—" He interrupts, helping himself to our kitchen counter, placing down the flowers and paper bag. "No worries love, I got it. You've had a long day, just kick back and relax."

His words send a wave of warmth throughout your chest, finding comfort in him. You move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you whisper a small thank you into his shirt.

He smiles as he starts working on replacing the old flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter. He unwraps the new flowers, and arranges them, albeit a little messily, into the vase. You look over his shoulder, "It looks beautiful Tetsu." He smiles, giving it one last touch before setting it back to it's original spot. "I'm glad you think so." Your eyes follow his form as he goes to wash his hands before reaching into the paper bag to reveal...

"Now how does coffee and ice cream sound?" You can only giggle as he lifts up a whole tub of cookies and cream ice cream, and a jar of my favorite coffee. "That sounds like an amazing idea Tetsuro~"

He pulls a chair for me and he moves on to fix us our mugs of coffee the way we both like it. Setting my mug and a spoon down in front of me, and taking his seat beside me. "Here's your order miss~ And some ice cream, on the house." Rolling my eyes at his playful tone. "Gee thanks Tetsu..." He just chuckles and opens up the ice cream for the two of you as you dig in.

It's sweet really, how he put comfort before confronting the problem, allowing you to process what was going on. Patiently waiting for you to open up to him as to not overwhelm you.

"So... Do you want to talk about it?" There it is, the dreaded question. "About what?" "You know..." You know, and it stings really badly but you decide to play it down. "Tetsuro I'm okay. There are other universities..."

Tetsuro looks at you knowingly, but instead of speaking, he just pulls you into his embrace instead, in his embrace where you felt safe enough to be vulnerable. Through this simple action, he'd allowed you to acknowledge the squeeze in your heart when thinking about the joyous reaction of those accepted into their priority courses.

To feel your frustration, sadness, and even envy, as the weight of your own expectations crash down on you. "I worked so hard for this Tetsuro..." You sob into his chest, grasping at the fabric to anchor yourself. "All those late nights studying for the test, trying to maintain my GWA, all while participating in extra curriculars! I want nothing more than to be able to go there..." You bury yourself into his embrace, and he rubs your back.

"I know baby, I know." He pulls away to cup your cheeks, making eye contact. "I was there baby. I saw you, and I remember very clearly. There were times I had to remind you to sleep because you were up late studying." His eyes soften as he wipes your tears gently with his thumbs.

"Or to remind you to eat because you forgot about lunch while working for a project. Or walking you home because your training for contests didn't ent til 6pm and I didn't want you going home on your own that late."

"The thing is, I know for a fact that you are one of the most hardworking, — and not to mention, loveliest — students out there. So what if some automated university admission program can't see your worth then so what? Things won't always go the way we envision them, but I know you. I see you. And you are able to thrive no matter where you go."

His words were sincere. You could tell from the conviction in his eyes, and you can't help but crack a smile through your tears. "Damnit Tetsuro... I was trying to have an emotional moment just now... You sure know how to cheer me up."

Planting a chaste kiss on his lips, and leaning back into his embrace. "Thank you Tetsuro." The blush that takes over his face doesn't go unnoticed. "You're right. I'll thrive in whatever environment I'm put in. After all, it's the students that make the school. Not the other way around, right?"

"Hah~ you're absolutely correct. That's my girl. I'm always so proud of you. Now how about we finish this ice cream before it melts?" You both share a laugh, before going back to eating your ice cream. The coffee long gone cold, but the warmth he brings to your chest makes up for it.

You were so grateful to have him. Though the situation planted a bitter taste in your mouth, to be loved by him left an overpoweringly sweet aftertaste. Being loved by him is reminiscent of the warmth that meets your lips from drinking a good cup of coffee.

*anak, meaning my child

[Here's a little excerpt from the song that I really like! And the translation hehe]

Wag kang mag-alala, maupo ka lang. Pagtitimpla kita. Mahal kape tayo, ang ating paborito. Ang lasang 'di nagbabago, tamis at init ng pag-ibig ko, para sayo

Don't worry, just sit down, and I'll fix you a cup of coffee. My love, let's get some coffee, our favorite. The taste that doesn't change, the sweetness and warmth of my love for you.

HI MY LOVES I kinda went nuts on this one. HWJFKED sort of self indulgent??? Not beta-read btw. Point out whatever mistakes you see. Anw I was inspired by a post by a college applicant who got rejected by UP despite passing the UPCAT bc apparently her school wasn't well known, hence less credible, and had less graduates than public high schools. Ok bye ILY ALL

Coming soon~

(posting so you guys can hold me accountable LOL)

Tags: Fluff. College AU. Pining. Lighthearted jealousy. Reader is DOWN BAD. Delulu reader X Varsity player Tetsuro🥰

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.please tell him₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

In which...

You have been pining for him for so long because you're a wuss who doesn't know how to tell him 😡

The song follows a delulu girlie who's disgustingly in love with some guy to the point where she goes to the places he frequents just so he'll notice her. (Lowkey stalker HELP 💀)

"Paki sabi nalang sa kaniya na mahal ko siya", meaning "Please tell him that I love him" is sort of like her cry for help lol bc she really can't do it on her own.

Welcome to my Blog

About me (extension):

— I am currently 18

— I love OPM (Original Pinoy Music), and I love Tetsuro so I decided to make this blog to post my musically charged thoughts/fics

— Basically, I'm here to spread the OPM agenda

— I haven't formally written fics in years pls be nice

— I will write for other characters too, so it's not just Tetsuro.

— My fandoms include: Haikyuu, Twisted Wonderland, A3!, Spy X Family... Etc. (I really can't remember all of them dawg)

— I'll do my best to provide english TL to my songfics.

Request rules and guide:

— I'll write anything SFW, but I will not write NSFW.

— I'll reject requests if I want to cuz this is my blog lol.

— When making requests, you don't need to send a whole essay. Don't get me wrong, you can, but you can just send me a song and a character and I'll take care of it.

— Even if it's not OPM, or a song I don't know, I'll try to listen to it!

Hi! I requested the happier one and Bakugo please

Original ask:  Hi! Could I request a bnha x reader where the reader does a cover of Marshmellos Happier (like Alec Chambers) and it’s just super angsty

A/n: I’m so sorry for the weeks wait! I’ve been busy but I finally have time to write

Quirk: Slight super speed. You can go as fast as a cheetah if you really try but even that speed wears you out that if you do it for more than 2 minutes you pass out 

Genre/Warnings: attempted angst, break ups, (songfic)

WC: 1,181

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lately, I've been, I've been thinking I want you to be happier, I want you to be happier

“Where’s Y/N?” Mina asks as she noticed she saw everyone in the dorm but you. She looks around at her classmates, some she saw going to school and some eating breakfast, she’s seen everyone except you. The others shrug or give some response of confusion. The others look around and try texting you but you don’t text back. They assume your still in your dorm but you don’t answer when someone knocks. 

They catch Bakugou as he walks out the elevator and immediately go to ask him, “Have you seen Y/N?” 

When the morning comes When we see what we've become In the cold light of day we're a flame in the wind Not the fire that we've begun

The question processes in his mind, worry taking over. He was just about to apologize but now you were nowhere to be seen. He goes into a frenzy, checking every room, the kitchen, bathrooms and even laundry room but you weren’t in any. 

Then, he facepalms, the idea of checking in your own room going into his head. Relief washed over him at the thought of you oversleeping but it was taking over with the anxious idea of you not being there. 

He goes to your door and barges in, wanting to see you on the bed, your covers a mess around you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he is met with an empty room, devoid of any of your stuff. The furniture was gone, your clothes were gone, and the only trace of you he could find was the lingering scent of your shampoo. 

His eyes widened at the sight, only then he pulled out his phone to text you, pausing when he sees a video you sent him.

Every argument, every word we can't take back 'Cause with the all that has happened I think that we both know the way that this story ends

It was you, the message underneath saying how you couldn’t explain with your own words so you sang a song instead. The background was different, it wasn’t a dorm but it had some familiar stuff hung up on the walls. That’s when he realized, you were in your house back in America.

He plays the song only to have a flood of memories come back to him. He knows what youre trying to say, knowing what you were thinking of while listening. The same memories in his head.

It was of him, telling you how annoying you were the night before. How- 

“No one needs you in this school, and the only reason you were here is because of your daddy’s money. You aren’t even as fast as Iida and you get so tired too. Your quirk is useless and you combat skills are average, at best. No one even wants you here, the only one who’s willing to try is me and it’s even getting more difficult by the second!”

Then only for a minute I want to change my mind 'Cause this just don't feel right to me

You hesitate going on the private jet. For a second you want to go back, try again, but you know that your relationship with Bakugou has been deteriorating for a while now and you will never be able to pick it back up again. It will be weird without Bakugou and the other, sure, but you have to do this for your sake and theirs.

I wanna raise your spirits I want to see you smile but Know that means I'll have to leave

With one look back at Bakugou’s contact number, you decide not to call to rethink your decision and put it back in your pocket. You get on the jet, looking back at the city and catching sight of the school you thought had accepted you. They will be better off without you there anyway. Bakugou will be better off without you dragging him down, too.

Know that means I'll have to leave Lately, I've been, I've been thinking I want you to be happier, I want you to be happier

When the evening falls And I'm left there with my thoughts And the image of you being with someone else Well, that's eating me up inside

You didn’t like the idea of leaving Bakugou and to be honest he didn’t like it too. You two made it known that you didn’t want to see the other with someone else through your mutual acts of petty jealousy. As much as it hurt you to leave you knew he could grow more as a person and as a hero without you there. 

You didn’t know that he lied wake that night thinking of the fight you just had. He didn’t mean anything he said and he thought you knew that, but apparently you didn’t. You didn’t know how much he loved you, how you were the only one h could come to with problems. The only time he didn’t was when he blamed himself for what happened to All Might. You’ve tried to comfort him about it but was only able to scratch the surface of how much he was feeling.

That’s why he ignored you, he didn’t want to tell you how pathetic he thought of he was. That’s why you believed he lost interest. When you tried to pry and ask whats wrong, it always turned into a heated argument but that last one really did the job when he said you were annoying to try to get you to stop asking.

But we run our course, we pretend that we're okay Now if we jump together at least we can swim Far away from the wreck we made 

At the time, him distancing himself wasn’t such a big thing, you knew he needed space after what happened. You two still went on dates and spent time together but it gradually became shorter, he became more silent and talking to him proved to be more and more difficult. It had been a few months when you realized something was very wrong and you were hurt when you thought he fell out of love with you. You noticed that after one conversation that he felt more than what he had told you but you thought he would open up, but he didn’t. 

When he made it clear he didn’t want you to comfort him you knew that things weren’t gonna work out but you just tried to ignore it. Until you obviously couldn’t anymore

So I’ll go

You saw land beneath the aircraft you knew you were almost home

I’ll go

The jet had landed on the familiar place you grew up in

I will go, go, go

Your parents greeted you politely, as if you were just some guest

So I’ll go

You went up to your room, where a familiar keyboard lay

I’ll go

A surge of emotions came to you as you set up a camera

I will go, go, go

Lilith | Finnick Odair

Pairing: Finnick Odair x fem!reader (District 4!reader)

Summary: The life of a Victor took a big tool on you, but you're not alone.

Warning/s: +18!, angst, sex trafficking, forced prostitution, trauma, just a bit of fluff (maybe), a little bit of pinning, some curse words (one or two), mentions of sexual activities, light smut at the end (not to explicit, but it's there), possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Been obsessed with this song lately, so here you go. I can't believe I never wrote for Finnick, this is a crime. Also, I skipped some parts of the song.

I'm perfection when it comes to first impressions

Well, I romanticize and then I get to stressing

A big brain like I'm teaching it a lesson

Baby, it's a blessing, yeah

The music was too fucking loud.

Finnick found himself gently tugging at the edge of his, what felt like too tight, suit. He felt like he was walking on fire with every step that he took just so he could arrive to yet another party held at the Capitol. Everyone important was going to be there.

The rich, spoiled Capitol's elite who will be thirsting over every attractive Victor there, including him. Especially him.

Even president Snow will be there. He, who is the reason this is happening to almost half of the Victors. The ones who were here for a while like him and new toys who just won. Like you.

Finnick found himself shivering a little bit at the mere thought of the new District 4 female Victor. You, who just won your games by not drowning in the lake like the rest of the tributes that year. You were certainly lucky, Finnick told you that a lot. It was true, of course. You were lucky that you came from District 4 so you knew your way in the water. Otherwise, you would be a gonner.

Finnick felt his throat tightening and his stomach doing a flip once he remembered you. His tribute. His victor. His secret crush.

He knew that he reached for a glass of their finest alcohol a bit too fast, practically at the moment he showed up. God knows he'll need it in him once you show up.

And you did. You showed up in all of your glory.

Your hair was let down, slowly trailing behind you as you walked, clearly a fake smile placed on your gorgeous face. Finnick Odair knew that it was fake. It didn't reach your eyes. Plus you didn't have that glint in your eyes. The glint that you usually wore around the heartthrob from District 4. The dress that you wore was too much for him. It was long enough to be trailing behind you on the ground as you wore, but he felt like it left little to nothing to the imagination. The naked dress that you wore was no doubt beautiful, but it scared him so much that he had no choice but to drown the liquid in his glass all at once, leaving it empty.

"Odair." You suddenly appeared next to him, ordering yourself a drink, bartenders gaze lingering on you a bit to long for Finnick's liking.

"Stunning as always, (L/N)." He replied holding your gaze, the straight tequila still burning a little in his throat.

"You're not two bad yourself." You noticed the edge in his voice and a slight panic, maybe even a hint of regret in his eyes, as you had this conversation with your handsome mentor. "Luckily for them." You barely nodded your head in the direction of the Capitol's elite, nobody noticed it. But he did. Of course he did. He always does.

Finnick found himself once again drowning the hot alcohol from another glass as he felt the dread eating him alive. It was bad enough that he found himself in the situation that he was in, but Snow doing it to you too was simply too much.

And as he turned his head a little to look at the Capitol's elite he watched them looking at you and himself like the two District 4 Victors were a piece of meat. He knew at that moment that it was going to be a long night.

For both of you.

You got me thinking that I was too mean

Well, everything that I say I believe

Tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve and

Change like a season

Reason for nothing

I am disruptive

I've been corrupted

And by now I don't need a fucking introduction

I've been gone

'Cause I been on this road too long

It was a gloomy day at District 4. The wind was blowing the leaves around as it went, it was also touching the sea, the waves all over it. The lighting cracked somewhere in the distance, but it was loud enough to startle you.

You were sitting by the window of your house in the Victor's Village watching the gloomy clouds that piled up in the middle of the already dark sky mocking you.

Nature truly had a funny, mocking even, way of reflecting the life of the person.

The never-ending stream of tears continued to slide down both of your cheeks as your gace subconsciously traveled over to Finnick's house.

The light shirt that barely covered the rest of your body suddenly felt too tight. Your hair was a mess. It was blocking the way of you seeing the plate of fresh cookies that Mags gave you in the morning. They were delicious, you tried a few, but now they were just sitting untouched at the top of your kitchen counter.

Your gaze was still frozen onto Finnick's house as you thought of him.

You loved him so much you felt like your heart was going to explode.

Your thoughts were running a mile, your heart couldn't keep up with it. He was simply breathing, absolutely perfect. In a deeply sad way you understood why Snow was selling him. Who wouldn't want him? But your heart broke every time you thought of him like that.

A few days ago you saw him leaving his house, he had to leave the District to go to the Capitol to attend to some urgent matters. Yeah, right.

You had to hold your ground to not just run after him. Mags would kill you, you knew that for sure. She was already doing everything in her power to protect you both from the sex trafficking as much as she possibly could. But you knew that you would bring her and Annie in danger if you did anything reckless so you stayed put.

You stayed away from Finnick. As much as you could.

For a little while you stared to ignore him. It didn't work. He was pushing it and you exploded. You just wanted to keep him safe, as much as you could. That is why you did what you did.

That is why you told him that you love someone else. Even though for you there was no one else. You knew that Snow would punished all of you if he found out that you loved him. What he did to Finnick was already a nightmare scenario, a nightmare scenario that didn't avoid you.

You tried to sleep, but you had yet another nightmare about your time serving the needs of the wealthy people of the Capitol and you broke down.

Now as you longingly looked at the house of your love and as you cried you felt like you were suffocating.

As you lifted your arm to whipe away the tears stains on your cheek your shirt rose up a bit showcasing the bruises on your legs. A reminder that you were not good enough for anyone. Let alone a kind and gentle soul like Finnick was.

Now I'm wondering if I ever wanted to hold you

It never mattered if I owned you

'Cause you'd let anybody with a body control you

And you know it too

A knock on your door in the middle of the night startled you to no end. You rubbed your eyes a little bit, trying to get rid of the sleepiness that still lingered.

Your plain white T-shirt felt like another skin glued tightly to your body from the sweat in which you woke up from yet another horrifying nightmare that was caused by the memories from your time in the arena. You knew that it would haunt you forever.

You dragged your feet across the hard wooden floor in your new home. After what felt like an eternity, you finally reached the door. You placed your hand on the door handle, the coldness of it sending shivers down your spine as you opened the door.

You felt a gasp getting stuck in your throat as you saw the person standing right outside your door.

Finnick.

"You can't do this to me." Finnick said lowly, his tone dripping with agony and something else that you couldn't quite put a finger on. "How dare you say what you said?"

"Finnick..." you started to say. "I-"

"Do you not love me?" You felt yourself freeze as he said that.

He got a little closer to you. The shirt and jeans that he wore were completely soaked from the rain outside. The rain that the storm brought. You felt like you couldn't breathe. The only sound that reached your ears was the sound of the waves crashing onto the rocks by the coast.

"You- you now how I feel about you, Finnick." You stuttered out as you said it, feeling very self-conscious at that moment.

"I don't think that I do." He leaned his head down, the raindrops that took their place in his dirty blonde locks sliding down onto your face. "I poured my heart out to you."

"Finn-"

"I told you that I loved you." Finnick said, slowly backing you up against your own door. "Yet you said nothing back."

"I..." you stuttered, thankful for the darkness outside that covered up the blush that made itself known on your cheeks. "Finnick, I can't..."

"Just say something!" He grabbed your shoulder, rising his voice as he gripped you a little firmly, but not enough to hurt you as he shook you a little trying to get you to say something that will make sense. "If you don't love me back just say it. Break my heart so that I can finally know if all of this was worth it."

"I told you already." Your voice continued to shake even though you tried to appear calm. "You know how I feel about you."

"So you do love me after all."

"I told you. You know-"

"Why can't you just say that you love me." The look that Finnick gave you just continued to break your heart. His grip was stills tight as you spoke.

"I want to protect you, Finnick." You told him, your breath getting caught in your throat. "That's why I can't say anything."

"Than show it to me."

You got me feeling like I been too mean

And everything that I say I believe

Tuck a knife with my heart up my sleeve

And fuck like a demon

Do it like nothin'

I am disgustin'

I've been corrupted

And by now I don't need no help to be destructive

I've been gone

Yeah, I've been on this road too long

The raindrops continued to knock against the window of your bedroom, the moonlight that barely made itself present because of the thick dark clouds was the only sorce of light in your house expect for the fire that burned in your fireplace in the living room behind the closed doors.

Finnick hovered above you in the bed as the lightning cracked somewhere in the sky brought you comfort.

You were once again covered in a thin layer of sweat because of the intense heat not because of the fire, but because of the heat that Finnick was providing as he rocked slowly into you, reaching deeper that you thought was even possible.

Your hand scratched lightly on his back as he gripped your hips a little bit, staying on top of you while making sure that he doesn't crush you with his weight.

You could practically feel his hot breath near your face as he marked your neck relentlessly.

The only sound in your room were the ones that you two were making.

You reveled in his gasps and you were sure that he did the same with your continuous moans. His forehead leaned against yours, both of you trying to catch your breaths as you kept up the rhythm that Finnick set.

It was just the two of you. No people from the Capitol, no pressure. No constant praying eyes that were watching your every move. No one had to know about this but you two.

You were glad. Because you never felt safer in your entire life than at this moment, foreheads and lips pressed against each other, giving all of your love to each other.

One thing was for sure, you would kill anyone who used Finnick against his will... only if you could.

The more that you give away

The more that you have

More that you give away

More that you have

The more that you give away

The more that you have

The more that they take

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@randomgurl2326 @caroline-books @hellonheels-x @livingdead-reilly @thecrowdedstreetin1944

Peace | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader (fem!District12!Baird!reader)

Summary: Coriolanus Snow never thought that he would find peace, until he did.

Warning/s: Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, talk about death (reader is alive, don't worry), possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Inspired by one and only Taylor Swift.

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly the summer, it's clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

Coriolanus Snow could swear that the rustling of the grass beneath his shoes couldn't be louder as he walked in the Meadow.

However, even though he felt an odd irritation towards that, he felt good. He was finally able to get rid of his Peacekeeper white uniform which he replaced with a simple white shirt and some gray pants that he found. His dog tag was still hanging from around his neck. He forgot to take it off from all of the haste when he was trying to find you as fast as he possibly could once his shift ended for the day.

The wind was dancing gracefully across the leaves on the trees surrounding the always oh so peaceful Meadow just a little outside of the border of District 12.

District 12.

Coriolanus Snow was still a little bit doubtful when it came to the loser District.

He could remember his hated towards, well, everyone and everything when he found out that he was going to be deported for the Peacekeepers. He could still remember that empty feeling when he sat at, what seemed like, the most uncomfortable chair in the world as someone started to cut his blonde locks away.

He lost everything. Every hope for the better.

That is up until it was reported to him that he could chose any District in all of the Panem that he wished.

Coriolanus could've been deported to a nice, clean District like 1 or 2. Yet he chose the poorest District of all. The words "District 12" left his mouth without the second thought when the authorities asked him where he wanted to be deported. He didn't even speare one single thought as he said it.

He asked himself, why did he do it? The question wouldn't leave his mind. It haunted him every day. It clouded his ever racing mind.

Why did he do it?

Yet now, he finally spotted a figure sitting on a giant rock, playing the guitar while muttering the words as she tried to write yet another masterpiece that he was going to cherish forever.

Your hair was flowing around in the wind as your fingers graced the strings of your guitar that Coriolanus got for you from the Capitol.

He tried to stay as quiet as he possibly could. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn't want you to stop singing so he froze once he got close enough so he could listen to you for a bit.

Even the mockingjays on the trees seemed to quiet down as you played the guitar. They were soaking up every melody, every note that you decided to grace the word with.

"And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me"

Your melodic voice rang around the Meadow. So quiet yet so powerful. Graced with softness and pure care. He didn't deserve you. He knew that.

Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. The only thing that truly mattered was the fact that you were alive.

Every doubt he had racing, cursing, his mind vanished forevermore as he listened to you sing and play your guitar, when he saw you performing with the rest of the Covey, your family, the night after he got deported to 12.

Right now, nothing was more important to him than you. He didn't care about his deportation, about Dr. Gaul, about Highbottom.

Maybe he was clueless. Maybe it was his fault for letting himself feel vulnerable in this very moment in the Meadow outside of 12. Or maybe he was just young and dumb for finally letting his guard down... but he felt like there was hope for him at last. Because you were here. You were alive, and if he had to mess up his reputation and lose everything once more just so he could here the sweetest of melodies leaving your lips he was sure that he would do it.

"No, I could never give you peace"

But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade ocean wave blues come

All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Coriolanus felt himself freeze completely.

His brain nor his body was working anymore as he watched the screen along with the rest of his classmates that were chosen to be mentors for this year's tributes in the Hunger Games.

The scene was tough to watch. He wanted to look away yet he found himself unable to do so.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rip his eyes away from the screen that showed reaping the tribute he was supposed to mentor.

A girl from District 12.

He felt uneasy the moment he found out who he was supposed to be mentoring, he felt like his hope was lost. His hope for winning the Plinth Prize and repearing his reputation was ruined. He was ruined.

But now, as he watched you step in after your name was called out, he felt unfamiliar feeling of pure warmth growing and spreading in his chest, consuming him completely. The feeling was unknown, it made him feel weak. Out of control. He hated it.

Yet, as Coriolanus watched your hair bounce as you stepped out of the crowd in the middle of the square, he felt like he would fight the devil himself just so he could make sure that you were safe, that you were going to get out of the arena alive.

He watched your expression and your posture. You were trying to appear as calm and unbothered as possible. You were successful in your attempt, but he saw right through it.

Perhaps it was because he found himself in the similar position as he watched you or perhaps he simply observed a bit too closely.

Whatever it was, it did not prepare Coriolanus Snow for what was about to happen.

°

Why am I here? What am I doing?

These are the questions Coriolanus asked himself as he unintentionally, yet at the same time quite intentionally, tried to seek some warmth from his red Academy's uniform in his pathetic attempts to warm himself up a bit in the middle of a very cold night on his way over to the zoo where you were forced to stay before the games started.

The food wrapped in a handkerchief that had his father's initials on it started to feel too heavy in the pocket of his uniform.

Feeling the cold shiver run down his spine he realized that it's not from cold or from the fear of the Peacekeepers blocking his way over to you in the middle of the night. No. It was something else. Something he was aware of, but couldn't yet admit it to himself.

He watched every step he took so as to not startle you in the cage of the zoo.

As he got closer, he realized that he saw a figure in the dark leaned against the bars of the zoo's cage.

It was you, of course. You were looking up at the sky as your hair slightly flew around in the light, cold night's breeze.

At first he thought that his plan to play star-crossed lovers was a dumb call. That it was bad. Mentor falling desperately, hopelessly in love with his tribute was just madness and quite a desperate attempt to draw some good public's attention to give you a shot at surviving in the arena was quite pitiful, truly. Where was his head at, at that moment? Who would ever fall for that nonsense?

But as he saw how the people thrived for a tragic pair of star-crossed lovers and as he realized that good citizens of the Capitol loved a good tragic story, he came to a conclusion that maybe all of this was actually worth it.

More importantly, as he called out your name quietly as to not startle you and alert other tributes he figured that it was a right call after all.

Especially when, even tho a part of him didn't want to, as he came over to you on the other side of the bars, gave you food that he smuggled from the Academy, wiped your long lost tear as it streamed down your beautiful cheek, as he soked in your beauty, admired your gentil kindness and finally as he kissed you like he needs you more than an oxygen that he has to breath over the empty space in the middle of the bars, he wasn't really pretending after all.

Yet when it was time for him to go home just so his absence doesn't go noticed by grandma'am and Tigris, he asked you one thing that was bothering him, eating him alive. One thing that caused him absolute despair from the moment he met you.

"Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" He whispered in the darkness as he held his hand against your cheek like you were the most delicate rose.

Your integrity makes me seem small

You paint dreamscapes on the wall

I talk shit with my friends

It's like I'm wasting your honor

Coriolanus Snow was hurrying towars the room in the Capitol's Academy in which he will be able to monitor the games along with some of his classmates.

He had to stay at home to help his grandma'am much longer than the would've liked. He was in such a hurry that once he got to the door he literally pushed it open with full force.

He strolled down effortlessly over to his chair so he could look over you as he heard the voice of one and only Lucky Flickerman.

"Now that is an entrance I'm jealous of."

Coriolanus ignored him.

He sat down next to Sejanus Plinth as he reasted his head on his hand as soon as he did that, the look of pure stress overflow his features as his piercing blue eyes locked themselves on the screen watching you.

"I may be wrong." He heard the voice of Sejanus Plinth as he stared at the screen, not looking away. "But it seems to me that you actually, genuinely care about whether or not she makes it out alive."

Coriolanus felt himself freeze for a moment, but he quickly forced himself to gain his composure back.

"I don't-"

"Don't lie to me, Coryo."

He kept his mouth shut after that.

And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences

Sit with you in the trenches

Give you my wild, give you a child

Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

Is it enough?

Coriolanus Snow could still remember the feeling of slight cold breeze as he hoped off of the train in 12 for the first time ever.

His boots stepped right into mud and he closed his eyes for a moment in slight annoyance. What an amazing way to alive here and do the things he was ordered to do.

He gripped more tightly just in hope to gain more confidence that he could actually pull through with this.

He stepped forward, letting out a puf of breath to steady himself.

Just as he was about to step after the rest of the new recruits as the one who is last in line he heard something that he hoped he would hear again. A voice which belonged to the person for whom he decided to go to the poorest District, paying the last bit of money he owned.

"Coryo!" Your voice shouted and he turned around slowly, almost not believing that you're here.

You ran as fast as you could just to get to him as fast as possible.

Your hair was flying around as your ran, the back of your dress dragging itself after you. The lightness of your steps, the graceful way you carried yourself, your eyes, your lips, you.

You collided against him, throwing your hands around his neck as you gripped on his shoulders as tightly as you possibly could, afraid that he will disappear from your grasp once again.

You looked so out of place. You were like a finest, most beautiful rose of all, but that rose grew in the middle of the mud. It fascinated him.

He wrapped his arms around you instantly, gripping your body strongly yet at the same time gently as he brought you to his body even closer. You felt like if he pulled you any closer the two of you would become one person.

He hid his face into your neck, breathing in your flowery scent. It smelled like home. Home which he was forcefully ripped away from, but now he was finally able to return.

"How did you-? What-?" He stuttered, couldn't get the words out.

"Tigris told me you were about to become a Peacekeeper." You got out, still holding onto his arm, your gripp still tight, afraid of losing him again. "However, Sejanus told me that you would arrive to 12."

This took him a back a little.

"You spoke with Tigris?" He asked, his voice not hiding his utter, but non the less happy, shock.

"We wrote to each other." You answered with a smile. "She's amazing, truly."

He couldn't be happier at this moment, he was so happy that it scared him.

But maybe, as he watched your smile and took your hand into his, pressing your palms against each other, he realized that just maybe life in the poorest District won't be as bad as he was afraid.

But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west

I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best

But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

One thing was for sure, life after the games was not easy.

You would have nightmares. He didn't know about them, you wouldn't told him. That is up until the rest of your family met up with him on a picnic day.

You looked so tired, so pale, you weren't acting like your usual self. It scared him.

That's when Lucy Gray pulled him aside after she saw his worried gaze on you the entire day. What she told him ripped his heart and shattered every piece.

"She's screaming at night." Lucy Gray whispered just so you wouldn't catch them, not that you could, you were so tired you were barely awake. "She has nightmares about the arena."

When he later on confronted you about your nightmares just so he could help you somehow you broke down.

You told him that maybe it wasn't the best idea for him to be with her. You were sad a lot more often, the screaming because of nightmares and everything else haunted you.

Before you could say anything else, tho. He kissed you like he would die without you.

"You're safe with me." He mumbled against your lips. "We can have a future here together, that is if you will have me."

"Of course I will Coryo, but-"

"No but's, then, my love." He told you, taking the handkerchief out of nowhere as he wiped away your tears that continued to stream down your face.

"Here, away from every harm, away from the games... maybe I could finally give you peace."

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

->

->

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TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

Ona | Bojan Cvjetićanin

Pairing: Bojan Cvjetićanin x reader

Summary: Bojan wrote this song about you and preformed it at one of the bands concerts for the first time. Through the song he started to spill his feelings for you for the first time after your breakup and you have a few thoughts.

Warning/s: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, mention of mental breakdown, maybe one curse word, bad breakup.

Author's note: Here is one for out golden retriever beautiful boy. I hope that you enjoy this one! Feel free to send in requests if you want me to make something specific with him. Oh and, btw, here is the translation for this amazing song. Your welcome. 😉

It was so bright out there, it started to hurt your eyes a little bit. You were standing somewhere in the middle of the crowd watching the love of your love. The love of your life... that you decided to let go because you felt like you weren't good enough.

You were attending yet another Joker Out's concert, but it felt different this time. Maybe because Bojan and you weren't together anymore.

Joker Out was here, in Croatia's capital city of Zagreb. This was the next stop for their concert. This is where the two of you met. Right here in Zagreb on a hot, sunny day in a crowded city. In your hometown. In the breathing country where you were born and raised in.

So here you were. In your hometown where Joker Out was performing. The first time that you heard that they will be performing in Zagreb, it felt like someone punched you in the stomach. But then you felt something different, you felt the need to see him again. Even if he doesn't take a notice in you as you stood in the middle of the crowd that was dancing and singing along. So you decided to go.

The moment that they stepped onto the stage you felt like you would cry. You missed them all so much. You somehow found the strength deep in your soul to look at Bojan. And so you did. He was just so gorgeous. He looked even better then when he did on the day that you left him (Lana Del Rey anyone? No? Okay...). He still had long hair, he was tall and just oh, so handsome. You noticed one thing however, his playful and mesmerizing, so radiant, smile or his playful smirk wasn't pressed onto his face like it always was. It worried you, truly. You watched as they got in their possession and as Bojan took the microphone.

"So... for the first song I will be singing something that hasn't been released just yet." He spoke in Serbian (it's actually very similar to Croatian, you know?) as he watched the crowd go wild with excitement as they claped and shouted and screamed with pure joy, with pure excitement.

"This song is also very special to me." He said, his voice was deep as he looked down in what seems to be sadness.

"It's about a very special person about who, I hate to admit it, I didn't get over and I don't think that I ever will." He paused for a moment so he could take a deep breath so he could continue to speak. "I met her right here, actually. In the beautiful Zagreb a year ago and I can honestly say that I fell for her harder then I ever did for anyone." The crowd was cheering, screaming, in excitement as Bojan introduced Joker Out's unrelated song.

"This one is for her." He said as the rest of the bend slowly started to play the chords. You felt your last bit of your breath leave your lungs as you felt tears pricking in your eyes, your vision getting blurry. You couldn't move. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't think.

But once he met your eyes deep in the crowd, where you stood, just as he started to sing, you felt like you were going to collapse.

Hodam opet njenom ulicom

Brutalno se vuče otkad nisam više s njom

Stanem ispod njenog prozora

Jedna njena senka da me spasi očaja

Bojan was walking around the dark cornered alley in the middle of the night. It must have been midnight by now. As he walked, he could see his breath in the cold of the Zagreb's winter, cold night. As he watched his breath become visible in the cold, dark night, he found himself pulling his dark coat closer to himself. It was truly a good attempt to keep himself from freezing.

Before he knew it, he found himself walking along the familiar road. The road that he walked along too many times to count, but right now, he was all alone. He looked up so he could be met face to face with the moon. It was shining so brightly in the middle of the dark night's sky. It was staring right at him, it seemed like it was mocking him. It was mocking his heartbreak and his loneliness. It was mocking him.

Suddenly, as Bojan looked down, he felt like the last breath was knocked out of his lungs. You were skipping along the frozen road, your steps quickly increasing as you went towards your apartment.

He felt like a staker, even though he wasn't one. He slowely started to go after you, something was pulling him towards you. That invisible pull was there again, just like it first appeared when he saw you for the first time.

After a while, you finally came into your apartment. You leaned against the window with a heavy sigh. Bojan could see you from the street and as he watched you he felt like he was suffocating.

Bojan loved you. You know what? Scratch that. He loves you. He longs for you. He wants you to be safe and as he watched you quitly from down below, he once again exposed his pain for the Croatian girl to the moon. To the moon, to the darkes and the cold winter in the middle of the street.

Nisam ni zaslužio da završimo uživo

Jedna poruka i via more

Snegovi u avgustu sad po meni padaju

Dok tebe sunce greje, mi amore

It felt like it was a good day. Truly. Bojan and you went out to get lunch and to explore the city. You were just hanging out together and it felt so good to do it. However, all good things have to come to an end.

Bojan didn't expect it at all. It struck him like a bolt of lightning. Out of nowhere, just when you think the day is going to be beautiful, and it hit hard. Really hard. In fact, it hit so hard it hurt.

"I'm sorry, Bojan. I really don't want to do this, but I think it's for the best if we break up."

That was it. Bojan could still remember those words echoing in his mind even though you never said them out loud. You told him this through text messages and maybe that's why it hurts even more than it would if you told him that to his face.

You loved him so much. You still love him so much that it hurts. Joker Out was starting to be a big band that has so much potential, and with that came so much more fame. You just didn't want to be in the way. You felt like you weren't good enough for him. You felt like he could do, and deserves, so much better than you. You were so happy with him, in fact, you were happier than you have ever been. But you didn't want to be in the way. So you made a hard choice.

Nobody could ever know, nobody could ever describe the pain, suffering and all that misery that you felt that day. That miserable feeling you felt when you pressed that little "send" button on your phone. As you watched the message being sent, you cried so much that it felt like you were going to collapse. After that you cut all of the contacts with him.

It was for his own good, that's what you told yourself. It's what you always told yourself as you broke down in the middle of your bedroom floor.

Znaj, bebo, znaj

Celu noć sam plakao zbog tebe

Taj osećaj

Da za mene živo ti se jebe

Ubija me

Bojan felt like a part of his soul was ripped away from his body as he read that message over and over again. He cried so much it started to hurt. He has never felt this way before. He hated to admit it, but he has never loved anyone as much as he loves you. It was intoxicating, but most of all it was painful and infuriating.

It lasted too long. Jan didn't know what to do anymore. Bojan just kept on crying, he was crying for so long, in fact, it was already dark outside. Jan was afraid that something was going to happen to him if he doesn't do something. And quick. It looked like Bojan wasn't breathing anymore. His broken soul didn't allow him to take a break, even just so he could breathe.

So Jan panicked and before he knew it, he was calling you up. He watched Bojan from the other room as the grip on his phone tightened. He found himself silently begging you to pick up your damn phone and answer him.

And so you did. After the millionth ring and after about two hundred messages later. You picked up the phone.

Jan told you everything. You were crying before he called you and it took everything in your power to not break down while being on the phone call with Bojan's band mate and your friend. You were practically kicking yourself for your decision, but there wasn't much that you could do.

From that day on, Jan tried everything in his power to get you two to at least meet. And for the first time, in a very long time, he succeeded. He managed to convince you to come to their concert.

In the city where you met.

Znaj, bebo, znaj

Celu noć sam plakao zbog tebe

Taj osećaj

Da za mene živo ti se jebe

Ubija me

Ubija me

As Bojan sang the last few chords of the song, he never broke the eye contact. You felt a few tears betraying you as they ran down your cheeks. Before you knew it, you found yourself whispering the words for which you barely found the strength to say.

"Celu noć si plakao zbog mene." You said, practically out of breath. It felt like you were kicked in your stomach as he continued to hold your gaze. You felt more tears as you found yourself repeating the words you just said.

"Celu noć si plakao zbog mene..." You couldn't do this to yourself anymore. You couldn't do this to him anymore. It was too much. The pain and suffering was getting out of hand.

You had to fix this.

Gladiator | Jan Rozmanowski/Jann

Pairing: Jan Rozmanowski/Jann x reader (figure skater!reader)

Summary: People find it hard to believe that Jan wrote Gladiator for you and his relationship with you, but once they look in the lyrics a bit better it all makes sense.

Warning/s: swearing (twice, maybe three times), impaled smut, but not in detail, stress and pressure, possible grammar and spelling mistakes, but I really hope you will enjoy this one

Author's note: I didn't see any Jann imagines on here and we CAN NOT and WILL NOT have that... so I made one. I also kind of got inspired by the queen herself, Alexandra Trusova. Enjoy! (Requests are open)

Welcome to the party, say hi to everybody

Paid for by Martini, but they're sippin' on Bacardi

Body's more than just a flesh, you can sell it for success

What's your price what's your address? We can finish at my place

Sometimes it can get really hard. You were a famous figure skater and it meant that you had to give up a lot. Like a lot. You could make some friends, sure, but it will never last. Figure skating is truly a very competitive sport and it would mean that you had to go up against your friends most of the time. So yeah, it never ends well. One always gets hurt and, as selfish as this may sound, you always had to make sure that you wouldn't be the one to get hurt.

You kind of lost all of the interest about the party that you were attending right now. You just felt so tired from the late practice last night that you felt like you could easily doze off right here. You found yourself leaning against the bar corner as you drank the last drop of your Bacardi, even tho you paid for a Martini. However, when the bartender brought you the wrong drink you didn't want to be one of those people so you didn't tell him anything. Plus you really couldn't care less as long as you get a little alcohol in your system to try and wash away all of the shit that was currently going on. The preparations for the World Championship was truly killing you, eating you outside out.

As you ordered yourself a new round of Bacardi, you noticed the guy standing next to you.

You didn't really know what was it. The alcohol? Your fucked out drunk as fuck brain? Or perhaps it was the tiredness from the bone crushing training with zero percent of sleep? In any case, whatever it was, you noticed one thing. The guy was drop dead gorgeous, it surprised you that he was alone nursing a bunch of Margaritas. His hair was dirty blonde, almost brown. His eyes looked so tired, but they still held a beautiful kind of joy. He looked so tired, too. You noticed the way he was lightly gripping at the glass that he was probably a bit drunk, too. You also noticed that he was so freakishly tall. It all confused you. You thought that it was ridiculous. How can somebody be so bloody drop dead gorgeous?

Maybe it was alcohol after all because you suddenly got a wave of self encouragement and you found yourself slowly stepping towards him. Something was simply pulling you towards him. You simply felt like you need to get to know him. It surprised you. You weren't usually the one to step forward, it flooded you with nervousness. Plus, considering your occupation, you didn't really have much time to get yourself a boyfriend, but it felt like it would be nice. All you had to do entire day was wake up, eat if you have time, practice, quick break, more practice, shower, rihurse, eat, sleep. On Fridays you allowed yourself to get drunk just enough so you could forget it all, but you thought that it would be nice. You know?

To have someone who is not putting even more pressure on you, to always be there for you, no matter what. To encourage you, to be there for you, to cheer you on, to make you happy. Somebody who will be proud of you no matter what. Someone who will be there when the pressure and the expectations get to much. When you break down. Someone to hold you. To see you as you. To love you. And, weirdly enough, you felt this towards that unknown guy you just saw, but you didn't now that he was actually looking at you the entire night. Watching you drowning yourself in a drink that you didn't even order, but were to nice to say anything to the bartender. He was watching you perform for a bit, too. He found you very talented. Very gorgeous.

However, before you could make a few steps towards him, from the spot in which you were standing in, you were suddenly swarmed with the crowd.

It lasted long enough it seems like, you thought to yourself. It was just a matter of time before somebody would approach you. In the corner of your eye, you saw him smirking at you, his face saying "amusement". Your eyes met and he got up, to your surprise. People around you were yelling, dancing, drinking, the crowd stared to make small talk, but your eyes were still just on him. He knew it, too. He stopped walking when he reached the end of the crowd. Your eyes filled with realization and a bit of amusement. Once you finally said hello to everybody, you will reach the one you want to get to know the most right now. And so you started with the talk.

After a long while, you felt like you got hit by a truck. You were still talking, still drinking, still faking. Just as the last person finally went away and the last photo got taken, at that moment approached you the person you wanted the most. He ordered himself and you a Martini and you got to chit-chat.

"I must say." He began as the bartender placed two Martinis in front of you. "I feel so honored that you found time to talk to me."

"Yeah, sorry about that." You suddenly your cheeks felt hot and you realized that you were blushing.

"No, it's good. But I must say you look even more gorgeous when you blush." He gave you his signature smirk as he took another sip of his Martini. At that, you felt like your face was red as a tomato.

"By the way, I saw your performance in Amsterdam three days ago." He said and you couldn't help but to look up at him in surprise. God he was so tall. "Those two flips that you did... I can see that you are very skilled." He gave you another compliment as he took another sip of his Martini. You felt so honored, he had seen you perform, he thinks your skilled. Somehow it felt like a big commitment. Somehow, someway, his opinion mattered to you.

"Really?" You started, suddenly feeling very bold. "I thought that the part where I did that Cantilever was gonna be your favorite."

"Oh, trust me it is." He gave you a wink as he continued to talk. "It looked really good, darling." He said, his Polish accent coming on strong.

"Well, what can I say. It had to be good. However, sometimes, the body is more than just a flesh, but in many things you can sell it for success." You winked back at him as you said that. "But you have to have some talent, too."

Both him and you knew one thing, though. If you continued to drink as much as you do right now and talk the way you were talking right now, you will probably end up finishing this conversation at his place.

Ever been to Bali? I really need some sun

Such a shame 'bout that tsunami, I'll have to go to Cali

I can get you dressed, wrap your body in excess

Give them something to obsess over

It felt so good. You were talking about everything and about nothing. He told you that he wanted to visit an island called Bali, but a day before his flight he saw the news about the island being hit by a tsunami so he decided to go to Cali. He also told you that he was a professional song writer and a singer and that he wanted to make another song, but didn't really have an inspiration.

You were telling him about the struggle of your sport and that you felt like all of the weight of the expectations were slowly, but surely crushing down on you. But you also told him about the fun part of your job, the costumes, the song and choreography choice. You enjoyed that, he could tell so, too. From the way that you were talking about it, he felt like he could listen forever.

"My coach is putting so much pressure on me. It gets to much, sometimes. Like I'm not famous enough. It gets on my nerves so much sometimes. I can't even go to a grocery store, most of the time somebody will recognize me!"

You complained and he listened. He listened and gave his opinion and you knew that he felt the same and it hurt so much. You felt like you had fallen in love, it was ridiculous. But at the same time it wasn't.

After a while he pulled you towards the middle of the dance floor. You were laughing and dancing and singing along. You didn't feel this relaxed and this happy for a long time. It felt like drugs. You just couldn't get enough and you never wanted it to stop.

Jan placed his arms around your waist as you danced and just had fun. You pulled each other closer as you danced. You could smell his cologne as you hid your face in his neck. He smelled like the finest air, alcohol and cigarettes. It was a weird combination, but it was so comforting, you felt like you could only breathe that astonishing smell for the rest of your life. Pretty soon, you tangled your hands in his hair as he played with the edge of your dress.

"They are taking photos of us." You found yourself whispering in his ear. You could practically feel the smirk he directed to you.

"It's fine." Jan laughed a bit, amused. "A figure skater and a singer. That'll give them something to obsess over."

You'll love it when I give it to you, leave you wanting more

I know your addiction's attention, let's start a show

Is it everything and more than you were hoping for?

Show us something we ain't never seen before

Jan and you were dating for two months now, and you had to admit that it was the best relationship that you were ever in. It went so much better than you thought it would. He was your number 1 supporter and you were his. He came to your every performance just like you came to every gig he had. You were always cheering him on just like he always cheered you on.

You just got off the practice, you were supposed to have a few days off and you couldn't wait to go away. You couldn't wait to leave rehearsals for a while, to leave your coach for a while, to leave the public eye for a while. You just couldn't wait to go get out of the building and crash at Jan's place. As you got out of the rehearsal, the first person you saw was your gorgeous boyfriend.

The moment he saw you he gave you your water bottle and despite your protests took your bag and slang it over his shoulder. He put his arm around you and led you to the car as you drank your water. You couldn't wait to get to his house. And, boy, it was worth the wait.

The moment you walked in he had you pressed against the wall, kissing you passionately. You tangled your hands in his gorgeous hair as he mumbled "jump" against your mouth. You did just that. Jan's arms wrapped around your legs as he walked upstairs towards the bedroom.

He gently placed you down, his lips never in the wildest dreams leaving your lips. Jam continued to kiss you as both of you slowly got rid of your clothes. After you were both pressed against each other, skin to skin, he pulled away for a short while.

"You'll love it when I give it to you. I'll leave you wanting more." And that wasn't a threat, it was a promise.

Smash your competition, baby

Show us some good entertainment

Victory's your only payment

Gladiator, gladiator

You were so bloody nervous, you felt like you were about to throw up or explode or something. You were messing around with the end of the red costume you were wearing, a white jacket was slung over your shoulders to protect the costume.

Jan immediately noticed what was wrong and quickly brought you into a hug. He didn't say anything for a while, he was just slowly rocking you back and forth in his arms.

Jan felt you tighten your arms around him. You felt like crying. He knew it. He pulled you even closer, afraid that you would disappear or that a messy cloud of fear and anxiety that was hanging above your head would cover you completely. The smell of his cologne calmed you down a little bit, but you still felt like you would much rather just crowl into a hole and die.

"You can do this." Jan pulled away as he placed both of his hands on each side of your face. "You can land 5 quads, you can win the World Championship. I know you can." It seemed like his words of encouragement did little to settle down the nervous pit that was constantly, slowly, painfully growing inside of your stomach.

"But, what if I-?"

"Even if you don't." He gave you a look. "Even if you don't it will still be like you did. For me you did. For your whole country, for your family, for your friends it will be like you won."

You nodded your head slowly, nervousness calming down a little bit. He slowely copied your action and nodded his head, too. You gave him a smile, a silent "thank you" for slicing that into you.

"Now go out there and show them something they have never seen before." He said and you pulled him in a quick kiss before your coach called you.

"Thank you, Jan." You whispered before you left. Jan smiled as he watched you go, shining with pride as he walked away to get to his seat.

Welcome to the party, I know it's kinda funny

That everyone is acting like they know you personally

Just play along, be nice and all

You won't get far being on your own

Your makeup was a bit ruined, but it didn't matter because you did it! Everything that you were working on your whole life had come true. You won the World Championship and you made history by landing 5 quads.

You grabbed your trophy and took pictures with the girls who got 2nd and 3rd place. But there was this bubbling excitement in your chest. You just couldn't wait to get off of the platform and to celebrate your victory with the person who supported you the most. Jan.

The moment that you saw each other, you ran to one another and Jan lifted you from the ground as he kept spinning you around.

"I'm so proud of you, baby!" He said as he attacked you with kisses. "My world champion!"

Later on you walked into a celebration party. Everyone was chatting with you, congratulations were shot at you from miles away and everyone was talking to you like they truly know you. After a while, you called it quits and left with one arm wrapped around your trophy and with other arm wrapped around your greatest treasure.

"I find it kind of funny, you know." Jan spoke up as you walked towards the car with you. "Everyone was talking to us like they knew every single thing about us."

"I know. But you know what?" You tightened your arm around him as you gave him a light, tired smile. "You really should always be kind to everyone. On this world you can't do it all on your own. So thank you, Jan. For your support."

"Baby, you are my greatest prise."

Torna a casa | Thomas Raggi

Pairing: Thomas Raggi x reader

Summary: Song that was promised to his one and only that he met on a lonely day in park in Italy.

Warning/s: smoking and heartbreak, possible grammar and spelling mistakes (English is my second language, I'm sorry)

Author's note: as promised, here is the one for our favorite boy

(E/C) - eye color

(H/C) - hair color

Cammino per la mia città ed il vento soffia forte

Mi son lasciato tutto indietro e il Sole all'orizzonte

Vedo le case, da lontano, hanno chiuso le porte

Ma per fortuna ho la sua mano e le sue guance rosse

Lei mi ha raccolto da per terra coperto di spine

Coi morsi di mille serpenti, fermo per le spire

Non ha ascoltato quei bastardi e il loro maledire

Con uno sguardo mi ha convinto a prendere e partire

Che questo è un viaggio che nessuno prima d'ora ha fatto

Alice, le sue meraviglie e il Cappellaio Matto

Cammineremo per 'sta strada e non sarò mai stanco

Fino a che il tempo porterà sui tuoi capelli il bianco

Che mi è rimasto un foglio in mano e mezza sigaretta

Restiamo un po' di tempo ancora, tanto non c'è fretta

Che c'ho una frase scritta in testa ma non l'ho mai detta

Perché la vita, senza te, non può essere perfetta

It was silly, truly. How the two of you met.

You were still not quite used to Italy considering the fact that you moved there after just a few months. You were supposed to move for quite a short time anyways. One of your parents got a new job there for a year. After that year was up you were supposed to move back to your home country. You were walking along the park not far away from your new collage. It was fine, you were supposed to graduate this year.

Thomas was peacefully sitting on one of the benches, in the said park, as he played beautiful music with his guitar. It was truly peaceful. For now. The moment his eyes landed on you he knew that you were about to burn his normal days down. He continued to play, but he really wasn't focusing as much on his hand as he was before he saw you. Thomas quietly watched as you continued to walk around. Your school bag was slang over your shoulders, a bag that seemed to heavy now. Your eyeliner was slightly smudged under your hypnotic (E/C) eyes, but that was last of your worries. Thomas watched as your (H/C) hair was flying, somehow perfectly, behind your back. Your lips were so red that the darkest blood should be jealous.

You finally looked to your right and sat down on a wooden bench a few meters away from where Thomas was sitting still mindlessly playing some notes on his guitar. You took the bag off of your shoulder and ran your hands through your hair before you let out a small, quiet sigh. You learned against the bench and finally let yourself enjoy the slight spring breeze. God knows you deserved it. Thomas finally forced himself to look away from you. He was aware that your eyes were closed, but he was still afraid that you would somehow catch him staring at you and that you would walk away. So, instead of staring, he leaned his head down and continued to play.

As he began to play again, you felt yourself open your eyes. You looked around trying to locate where the music was coming from and after a while you finally found the sorce of it. You felt like your eyes were glued to Thomas the second that you saw him. His golden hair was falling slightly in front of his face as he was still struggling to find the right tone that was set in his magnificent mind. His gorgeous eyes were barely able to be seen, but you caught a glimpse of them and felt your breath leave your lungs before you could do anything to stop it from happening. You watched as his hands gripped the guitar's neck so tightly that his knuckles turned purely white. You saw the way his eyebrows frowned on his face as he tried to keep focus. You continued to curiously watch him try to find the right melodies for a while before he let the guitar go. He got himself a cigarette and lit it up. You could see some frustration as he lit the cigarette up, closing his gorgeous eyes in the process.

"It's not going very well, is it?" You asked him, smiling at him curiously. He lifted his head up in surprise and you swore that your heat stopped beating when his eyes tored into yours.

"It really isn't." Thomas laughed, nervously. He didn't expect you to speak to him. He thought that you wouldn't even notice him. He saw that you were in your own little world as he watched you sit down on that bench. He figured that you are too tired from school, at least you looked like you were, so he decided not to bother you. Besides, he didn't feel like he had courage to do so anyway.

"It's a shame, really." You gave him another smile as your eyes continued to linger on his handsome face. "I can tell that you are brilliant with the guitar, I just know it." You continued to spit compliments at him and he would like if he didn't feel himself get hot in his cheek area.

"Thank you." He shyly thanked you. "I just can't find any inspiration, seems like."

"Well you know what?" You spoke up again. "I'm new here in Italy. How about you play my tourist guide for a day and maybe you get some inspiration."

That's how it all started.

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che il freddo qua si fa sentire

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che non voglio più aspettare

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che il freddo qua si fa sentire

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che ho paura di sparire

Thomas enjoyed what was happening very much so. He continued to show you around Rome and he got to practice his English with you, because that was practically the only way for him to speak with you. As the two of you started to wonder the magnificent streets, you got to know each other better. Thomas told you that he's in a band with a girl named Victoria, and two guys Damiano and Ethan. He was the bands guitarist and he is currently working on a new song. You found that very interesting and exciting. Thomas found out that you moved here because of your parent's new temporary job and you go to college here, too. That news saddened him.

You weren't going to stay here for more than a year. You both knew that you guys just met, but there was something between you two. You felt it in the depth of your souls. You just knew that whatever was going on between the two of you, was something special. Something that, sadly, not a lot of people have. After that day, Thomas and you continued to go on relaxing walks through the random streets of Rome. You both enjoyed the sun on your skin and the slight breeze in your hair.

Anyone who walked on the same streets as you did could notice just how much in love the two of you were. Holding hands felt so natural that neither of you remember when exactly did you start doing it. Whenever Thomas arrived first for your walks he would hold his hand out for you to take and you did. It truly felt natural. Two people holding hands, laughing and smoking in the middle of the streets.

After a month, Thomas introduced you to Damiano, Victoria and Ethan. It was safe to say that they became like your family once they learned how good you are to Thomas. But they both knew what was coming. You leaving in a few months was unavoidable, it seems like. But neither Thomas nor you wanted to think about it just yet. You both just wanted to enjoy the other before the time runs out. And before you had to leave Italy. Thomas just wanted to stop time, to live in this moment until the end of times, maybe even longer. He didn't want to even imagine what it would be like. To not wait for your college classes to be over so the two of you could stroll around the lonely streets of Rome. To not feel the softness of your hand, of your blood-red lips. To not see your breathing smile. To not hear your melodic voice speaking the funniest jokes he has ever heard in his whole world. He was willing to give you his heart. He didn't care what you would do with hit. He didn't care if you broke it to billions of pieces and stepped on it or if you would cherish it like it was made out of the most fragile glass ever known to mankind. His heart didn't belong to him anymore. It belonged to you. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Yet he knew very well what was going to happen. He didn't care. Thomas knew that he would kill thousands if he had to, just so he could see you smile at him like you did since he met you. He had it bad. He knew that, but he also knew that nothing can prepare nor prevent the heartbreak that was coming for him.

E il cielo piano piano qua diventa trasparente

Il Sole illumina le debolezze della gente

Una lacrima salata bagna la mia guancia mentre

Lei con la mano mi accarezza in viso dolcemente

Col sangue sulle mani scalerò tutte le vette

Voglio arrivare dove l'occhio umano si interrompe

Per imparare a perdonare tutte le mie colpe

Perché anche gli angeli, a volte, han paura della morte

Che mi è rimasto un foglio in mano e mezza sigaretta

Corriamo via da chi c'ha troppa sete di vendetta

Da questa Terra ferma perché ormai la sento stretta

Ieri ero quiete perché oggi sarò la tempesta

Unfortunately, Thomas wasn't a God. He didn't have power to stop time. Even if it was just to be with you. He was powerless at this moment and he hated it with burning passion.

As he watched you pack the last of your belongings in a suitcase he realized just how much he hated his luck, how much he hated this fate, how much he hated his life. He realized how much he hated himself for being so powerless at this moment as he wasn't able to do anything to stop this from happening.

"That's the last of it." You finally broke the everlasting silence that was practically choking the walls of your room.

Thomas kept quiet and you finally looked at him. You saw glistening water sparkling in his eyes that met yours. It took you just about five seconds before you broke down in each other's embrace. You felt his arms gripping onto you like you are going to dissappear from his arms, but in reality, Thomas was afraid that if he let's you go he is going to dissappear out of sorrow. You buried your face in the neck of his shirt as you realized that your tears were leaving the wet stain on it. Not that you cared about that fact. You only cared about the fact that you were going to leave his comforting and warm embrace and that you were also powerless to stop it from happening. After the two of you calmed down a bit, or at least as much as your mutual heartbreak let you, Thomas spoke up first.

"I don't want you to leave." He told you for the billionth time today and you felt yourself break all over again from the pain in his voice.

"I don't want to leave either." You continued to endlessly sob. "But I have no choice and it's killing me."

Suddenly, Thomas gently grabbed your face. He was treating you like the most fragile glass, like the wind that he can't get the hold of, like the sweetest coincidence that was slowly destroying him inside out.

"I finished my song." Thomas tried to give you a smile. But it turned into a sad grimace. Not that you blamed him in any way. "The melody and everything. It's finally finished."

"It is?" You gave him a watery laugh through your sobs as you wiped his face clean from his own tears.

"Yes. I did." He confirmed to you. "I wrote it about you."

"You what?" You were shocked to say the least. He wrote a song. About you.

"You are my muse, amore. You are my only inspiration."

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che il freddo qua si fa sentire

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che non voglio più aspettare

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che il freddo qua si fa sentire

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che non voglio più

Prima di te ero solo un pazzo, ora lascia che ti racconti

Avevo una giacca sgualcita e portavo tagli sui polsi

Oggi mi sento benedetto e non trovo niente da aggiungere

Questa città si affaccerà quando ci vedrà giungere

Ero in bilico tra l'essere vittima, essere giudice

Era un brivido che porta la luce dentro le tenebre

E ti libera da queste catene splendenti, lucide

Ed il dubbio o no, se fossero morti oppure rinascite

The weather was cloudy. It was dark and everything smelled like it was going to rain at every moment. Thomas felt like that was mocking him. Truly. He shifted his eyes away from the sky back to your eyes. They were prettier, anyways.

"So this is it I guess. Isn't it?" He felt himself say it without even realizing it. He watches your eyes fill with tears, mirroring his own, and he watched your lips trying to give him a smile.

"I'm afraid that it is, Tom." You said and he felt like someone just killed his entire world. But nobody did. You were standing in front of him, thankfully safe. "I swear to God Tom, I will kick your ass if you don't send me the recording of the song you wrote." He found himself laughing with you like a mad person in front of the airport even though he felt like he wanted to scream, cry and tear everything apart.

"I will, amore mio. I will. I promise." Your flight was once again announced and you knew that you had to go. Without another word you kissed him passionately. You leaned your foreheads against each other and stood like that for a few moments, your eyes still closed.

"Ti amo, Thomas."

"Ti amo, l (Y/N)."

And with that you tured around and left to catch your plane, your suitcase stumbling behind you. Thomas kept standing in the same spot until your plane left his eyesight. Once you were truly gone, far up in the sky he turned around to leave the airport. As he walked away he felt himself whispering "Marlena, torna a casa".

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che il freddo qua si fa sentire

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che non voglio più aspettare

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che il freddo qua si fa sentire

Quindi Marlena torna a casa, che non voglio più sparire

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@randomgurl2326 @opal-rugger

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Timezone | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x female!reader

Summary: As Damiano and you are forced to be apart, you both slowly start to feel like you're loosing your mind.

Warning/s: Language (maybe like one curse word that is repeated two to three times), mention of smut (but not explicit), Google translate

Author's note: Here is another Damiano song imagine I hope you like it. I might make one with Thomas Raggi very soon 🤫

You're wearing my old clothes, but you, you wear it better

And every time I sew your face, the moon should be jealous

And I keep talking to the wall 'til he's a friend of mine

I call you every hour just to tell you that I'm loosing my mind

Now I know you're sleeping

Where I'm supposed to be in

Wish I could've stayed

Damiano has had enough. The fame felt too much and the videocalls, phone calls and messages weren't enough anymore. He was practically pulling his hair out as he continued to mindlessly walk around his hotel room. His completely empty hotel room. He looked at his perfectly made bed and at his perfectly sorted out clothes in the closet and Damiano was finally, officially done. He couldn't take this torture anymore.

He strolled mindlessly to the big window of his hotel room as his eyes roamed around the busy streets of LA. People were rushing everywhere and Damiano realized that they were completely obvious to his suffering. He thought it was unfair.

He roughly ripped the cigarette out of the back pocket of his jeans. As he went to light up the cigarette it begin to accur to him that sun was still shining brightly in the middle of the sky. He realized that the moon must be keeping company to his beloved. Not that you were probably enjoying the darkness that the moon swept in, he thought. You must be still deep in your sleep considering the fact that it was probably middle of the night where you were right now. As Damiano opened the window and stepped onto the balcony he let himself enjoy the bright rays of sunshine on his bare back. He blew the smoke out of his mouth and looked towards the sun. It was shining so bright that Damiano was pretty sure that it was mocking him. He knew that it was mocking him. The sun was pure reflection of his life right now. It was shining on him so brightly, but it also reminded him that you are not in the same position as he is right now. He was covered in sunshine yet you were bathing in moonlight. It wasn't fair.

With a sigh, he threw away the cigarette and returned to the room closing the window behind him. Empty room remained him not only of you, but also that his band mates were out right now. Damiano was pretty sure that they went out partly because of his constant whining about not being able to do more that to just see your gorgeous face over FaceTime. It wasn't his fault that he was whining about it constantly, he thought. Those calls were sometimes quite impractical, anyways. For one, he couldn't touch you. He could only watch your beauty from far away. He couldn't smell your sweet scent. Your shampoo. Your perfume that he sometimes liked to steel away just so that he could smell like you (it was fine you did it with his perfume, too). He knew that Vic, Thomas and Ethan were practically sick of him now because he was talking so much about you. Ethan thought that he looked like a tortured puppy whenever Damiano mentioned how much he misses you. You were talking to everyone on the band, too and Ethan knew that you were like that, too.

In fact, everyone got so worried for you two because as time went by and you two spend much more time away from one another it looked like you both started to not take as much care for your well-beings as you did before. Everyone saw how much this long distance affected both Damiano and you. Thomas barely stopped Vic from buying Damiano tickets back to Italy (you moved there with him) one hour before the show so he could see you.

Damiano was done. But he couldn't help himself. He just kept calling you when the moon is shining in LA, when some people were asleep like dead and some people were partying until they die. He just wanted to hear your voice yet he knew that everytime he calls you, you can hear desperation in his rough voice. Damiano was very well aware that he was slowly loosing his mind. Especially when it was night where you were and you were deep in your sleep. He didn't want to disturb you, so he somehow managed to gain some self control and not call you then. It was all right, though. You were loosing your mind, too.

He took one more look at his perfectly made up bed and knew what was missing.

If you two weren't apart, you would be sprawled out on the bed, bare back facing the door, hair messed up, face pressing into the pillows, deep in sleep after the passionate activities that him and you took part in the night before. His whole hotel room was mocking him. He knew that very well. All this torture... it took everything in his willpower to not run to the airport and never let you go from his arms.

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

So fuck that I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning

I'm coming home

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

"So how is the tour going?" Your slightly raspy voice asked him.

It was an early morning in Italy and you just woke up from your slumber. In fact, you were still in bed. On the other hand, Damiano has been awake for hours. It was still dark outside and he put his laptop outside on the balcony on the fresh LA air. God knows he needs it.

"It's good." Damiano told you. "It's good..." He repeated slowly as he finally blew out another little cloud of smoke from yet another cigarette.

The way he repeated his answer seemed like he was just trying to convince himself that everything was perfect, that everything was just the way he imagined it to be. But you knew better. You knew he was hiding something and you were pretty sure that you could guess what it was.

"What is wrong, amore?" You asked him and for a moment, when Damiano looked back from the night sky to the screen, he felt himself freeze.

He knows that you are beautiful, but the way that you smiled sadly at him and the way that one piece of your hair fell in front of your eyes, he was once again hit with the feeling of loneliness. It painted him greatly because even though he can se your breathing smile and hear your melodic voice, it wasn't the same. You weren't really there with him. For a bare moment he didn't say anything, you figured that that would happen. So you went on.

"I know when something is wrong." You told him and he started to deeply stare in your eyes, you felt like he was staring into your soul. It was truly curious considering the fact that you had a videocall. "Your eyes start to drop in a certain way. They get more serious." You continued, your voice softening with every word you said and he noticed that. He always does. Just like you always do, too.

"The tour is going amazing. Vic, Tom and Ethan are amazing like always. But you know what is wrong." Damiano took another hit from the cigarette and quickly blew another cloud of smoke out of his mouth. He started to smoke more. You noticed that fact after your 50th call this week. He started to smoke more then he usually does and you could partly guess why.

"You're right. I do know." You sighed as you rubbed your hands over your face. In return, he turned his concerned eyes back to you. "It's killing me, too. I feel like I can't do it anymore either." You admitted to him. He let his hand run through this hair as he put out the cigarette with his other hand. You could just watch how he smashed it in the ashtray angrily.

"I miss you so much it hurts." Damiano heard himself admit this to you for like the millionth time today. "I just want you to be back in my arms. I can't fucking do this anymore. I don't want to."

"Me neither."

Tomorrow I got another plane, I'm not gonna take it

Instead, I'm gonna fly straight to you, I'll pay double for the tickets

And I don't give a shit about the contracts that I signed

And they can say whatever, we'll be making love, I'm fucking you tonight

Now I know you're sleeping

Where I'm supposed to be in

Wish I could've stayed

Victoria, Thomas and Ethan watched Damiano with great concern as he continued to practically pull his hair out. Their manager just told them that they have to stay in LA for one more month. Not one more day. Not one more week. One more MONTH. Måneskin was supposed to leave in three days back to Italy, but the plan changed. This news added the fuel to the fire that was already actively burning. And that was enough for Damiano finally explode. The rest of the band barely stopped Damiano from nearly ripping the manager's head right of off his shoulders. Don't get him wrong. Damiano loved this tour and he loves his band more than anything. But he was supposed to finally go back in your arms and he was pretty sure that he never wanted to leave them, but his plans and hopes were now officially crushed, burned to the ground.

"Questo è tutto! Me ne sto andando! Non mi interessa nemmeno più questo. Voglio solo vederla per almeno un giorno." ["That's it! I'm leaving! I don't even care about this anymore. I just want to see her for at least a day."] He yelled out and Vic jumped up to her feet before she gave him a bone crushing hug. "Non posso più farlo, cazzo." ["I can't fucking do this anymore."] Damiano whispered as he gripped on Vic's hair. Victoria let her hand run down his back as she hugged him tightly. It painted her to see one of her best friends in this state. Suddenly, she let go of her, gripped Damiano's shoulders as she started to yell, too.

"Che cazzo stai aspettando?! Vai a trovarla per un giorno e dille che ci siamo salutati!" ["What the fuck are you waiting for?! Go and see her for a day and tell her that we said hello!"] Damiano looked at her in shock as Thomas and Ethan joined them, nodding.

"Sì! Amico, smettila di deprimerti e vai dalla tua signora." ["Yeah! Dude, stop moping around and go see your lady."] Thomas said. Thomas' confirmation along with Victoria's and Ethan's nodding was enough for Damiano to turn the entire hotel room upside down.

He pulled out his suitcase out of nowhere and started to pack. He was moving so fast and so much that the rest of the band thought that he's going to give them a headache. The point is, he didn't care what he put in in his suitcase. He packed just a few essential stuff, anyways. His mind was already with her, back in Italy, and it was the only thing that was important to him. It was safe to say that he was in and out before anyone could say anything else. And so, with one group hug and quickly exchanged "good bye"s and "have a safe flight"s, Damiano was off.

Practically running down the hall so he could get to the elevator and out of the hotel. He ran out on the busy street of LA and somehow managed to get a cab very quickly. He was extremely excited and kind of nervous. Damiano figured that he simply couldn't wait to get to the airport. The moment that the cab stopped, Damiano practically threw the cash at the driver and ran inside the airport, his suitcase stumbling behind him. Once he finally got into his flight he slumped down on his seat. He just couldn't wait do be home. And the waiting really paid off.

Damiano felt like his heart was going to burst its way out of his chest as he took a look at the building of your shared apartment. The flight was too long and he was just happy to be back. He knocked on the door after he went up the stairs and he was suddenly face to face with your sleepy eyes and your bright smile when you saw who was knocking on the door. Before any of you could get a word out you brought one another into a bone crushing hug. You started to cry in each other's embrace. You missed the way his arms were wrapped around you, you missed the way he always sounded so breathless when he joyfully laughed, you missed the way his eyes were shining, you missed him. He missed the way you smelled like the sweetest candy the way your eyes stared deep into his soul, he missed the feeling of your skin, he missed the beating of your heart. He missed you, too.

"You're home." You let out a soft sob as you hid your face in his shoulder, gripping on him tightly. You felt his arms tighten around you, too afraid to let you go, too afraid that either of you is going to dissappear.

"I am home. At last."

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If Not For You | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x reader

Summary: As Damiano goes away on the tour with his band mates he has to deal with leaving his home behind. You.

Warning/s: random couple making out, alcohol and that's about it.

Author's note: So English isn't my first language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes (I'm really trying). Also, I don't know Italian so if I wrote anything wrong Google translate is taking the blame. Enjoy!

(Y/E/C) - your eye color

"There'll be no summer

There'll be no spring

If not for this love of mine

Thrones without flowers

Bars with no drinks

If not for this love of mine

All this lights

All the parties would just fade out

Shut them down"

It was truly tortures. He was in LA, all alone. At least it felt like that. Snooping around the bars, in the middle of the night. Bars that were literally at every corner of the dark street he was walking on. Vic, Thomas and Ethan were off somewhere else. At some "dumb" party Damiano didn't bother to attend. It was a waste of time anyway. Not that he had a better way to waste it, anyhow.

It sickened him. Truly. Couples were holding hands everywhere. Whispering quietly to each other's ears and laughing at something that seemed like it was the funniest thing in the whole universe. Maybe it was. But he couldn't be bothered at the moment. Some guy and his girlfriend were making out in the middle of the dance floor in the middle of some random bar he walked in. He felt disgusted. Or at least he thought he was.

He walked up to the bartender, ordered a beer and walked off to the corner of the bar. He pushed through the dancing, yelling and laughing crowd so he could finally sit down at the empty table. Damiano sat down with a sigh. He was drowning his beer in silence. The party around him was wild, full of life and youth. He knew that he shouldn't be slouching like someone had died. But he knew that he couldn't help himself. He felt alone. On the band tour, on the parties, even in this bar as he looked at all the people dancing, being drunk and probably high, he felt alone.

Damiano pulled out his phone as he searched for your contact. It was an early morning in the country where you were. He thought that you must still be asleep. Perhaps he should be doing the same. But he didn't. Instead of sleeping in now empty hotel room, he wondered into some lousy LA party drinking his sorrows away. Even though he really doesn't even enjoy alcohol. But he didn't care about that at the moment. He just wanted to be back home. Back in Italy. Back with you at least if he couldn't be home. But you were his home. And he missed you. He wondered if you liked the flowers he send you. He wondered if you even got them yet. Suddenly, Damiano got up. Not caring about the party or the beer, not that he did before. He didn't even bother to acknowledge the couple that he bumped into on his way out of the bar. He couldn't be bothered that the guy was angrily yelling at him to watch up. No. All he cared about was calling you. And so he did.

"If not for you, I wouldn't sing anymore

(Da-ba-ra-ba-ra, ta-ta, da-ba-ra-ba-ra)

If not for you, I couldn't get off this floor

(Da-ba-ra-ba-ra, ta-pa)

If not for you, hell would be knockin' on my door

If not for you"

There were the moments when he felt like all of that fame was too much. Moments when he wondered if he should be doing this. Moments when he wondered was he even good enough for this. Moments when he wondered did he deserve all of the thing and people he has now. There were moments when he felt like breaking down. It was just before the tour. He was in the (Y/N)'s and his apartment alone. Or at least he thought that he was alone. Damiano was sitting on their bed. He hid his face in his head, gripping his hair. He felt a strong burning sensation in his eyes. He didn't let go. He thought that he shouldn't, that it's not worth it. He missed the sound of the door of the apartment opening, he missed his name being called out softly over and over again. Like a broken record player.

"Damiano." he lifted his head then. There she was. Holding the keys of the car in left hand and an empty luggage in her right hand. It belonged to him. He was supposed to be packing the last suitcase, but he wasn't. He left it in the middle of the hallway. He knew (Y/N) must have stumbled upon it and she brought it here. He couldn't keep his tears in anymore when he saw her slowly walking up to him. He smashed into her, pulling her against him tightly. He slipped his hand under his her shirt as he felt the warmth of her skin and smelled the sweetness of her perfume. It was almost like, if he had loosened his grip even a little bit, she would disappear. He knew he will have enough time to miss her for 2 months. He needed this comfort. He needed her in his arms for a little while longer because he knew that neither of them could know when they will see each other.

"Are you okay, amante [lover]." you asked him softly as both of you slowly lowered onto the cold floor. You felt him falling down so you went with him. You felt like that too, anyways. You were running your hands through his hair as you reasted your head on top of his. It was almost if he was squishing the life out of you, but you didn't care. He learned his head against your chest, focusing on your heartbeat.

"You know, if it wasn't for you I wouldn't sing anymore." he said and for a moment he left you speechless. You were about to say something when he interrupted you. You let him. "You are the reason I am here today. You are the reason I didn't give up. You are my motive, my inspiration for everything I do. Sei la mia musa [You are my muse]. Sei la mia ispirazione [You are my inspiration]."

As Damiano continued to clutch you to him, he felt something wet streaming down his hairline. He knew very well what it was. He was doing it, too.

"No more Nirvana

No Billy Jean

No dancin' if you were gone

How could I wake up

How could I sleep

How could I be someone

All those crowds

All the music would just fade out

Not a sound"

Damiano was gripping that microphone for his dear life, it seems like. He felt his throat being sore, but adrenaline was at its highest peek so it was all right. He could see in the corner of his eyes Vic and Thomas playing along with his singing. Ethan was also jamming away with his drums. The crowd in front of him was screaming, dancing, laughing, they were having fun. The band did to. You could fill the high spirit. But you could also feel that something was missing. Or rather someone. Damiano felt it deep in his being. Everyone was here. But there wasn't one person that should be. You. His eyes scanned the crowd. His wild, dark eyes searching in hope of finding your (Y/E/C) ones. He hoped, even though he felt like he shouldn't, that you would somehow be here. Even though you were thousands of miles away, he hoped that you would be there. He hoped that some miracle happened and that his lover would have her schedule cleared so she could come. Damiano hoped, even if you don't come to him, that you ate, drank. That you are taking care of yourself. He hoped with his whole being that you are alright and that he will see you again very soon. Otherwise, he might just come and get you himself.

Just as Damiano finished singing the last chords of their song his eyes unexpectedly found ones he missed so much. At that moment he felt like he was whole again. That the missing part of his sould was glued back to him again. And it was.

There you stood. Practically in front of Vic who was playing in front of the left side of the stage. You were standing next to Leo, looking at him. He felt like he was all alone there with you. Damiano felt like he was dreaming. But he wasn't. You were there. Just like he asked you when he called you three days ago. You were there, looking and smiling at him. Singing along with him. He knew that he was home at last.

->

->

->

TAGLIST

@opal-rugger

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!

♥️🍫Candy Hearts and Paper Flowers♥️🍫 (A Bunnydoll Fic)

ON WATTPAD AND AO3

Description:

Throughout her time in the Digital Circus, Ragatha has had to master it all. From twisted creatures to twisted traps to even dealing with annoying lengthy rabbit's shanagenes. Jax has always found a twisted joy in his time at the Digital Circus. That joy has a sweeter taste when a certain rag doll falls for his tricks and traps. Yet though it all she's pushed through, when the wacky ringmaster comes in with a new challenge, making them face more than wacky and crazy creatures of this world. Through candy heart songs and paper flower bouquets, through late-night talks to the moon and plays, they find more that there is more to this world than fears and tricks.

(This story was based around the song Candy Hearts and Paper Flowers from the Raggedy Ann and Andy: Musical Adventures. And I just built a story based around them performing this song) Wanna Read It??: You can read it on Wattpad or AO3

hey guys, remember the post i made two and a half hours ago about making a soukoku songfic (Feel Better by Penelope Scott) with Dazai's POV? well.. enjoy the 2k words!! edit: uploaded on ao3 and attached link!!

A nice pace—it was the best description Dazai could come up with whenever he asked himself to describe what sort of a life he was living now.

Not too slow like it was before joining the Detective Agency—he needed some action, but not as violent and urgent as his Port Mafia days.

But something prevented him from outright admitting that.

Sure, the usual hectic nature of the office was enough, and his co-workers were alright, but something felt off.

Dazai’s pen glided over the sheet, the ink melting into the page precisely as he directed the object to.

Precise. That was his life. Something he personally and perfectly curated it to. Of course, he was a genius, and with that came some useful methods to manipulate his surroundings to just what he preferred.

For some reason, he'd been doing the opposite as of late.

Likely to distance himself from the mafia. Obviously he continued to hide behind his mask, but his mannerisms were so much more genuine.

There was only one person he'd shown that side to before.

The grip on his pen tightened and his movements paused, making the ink pool over the specific spot and ruin the word that was previously placed.

His previous train of thought far gone, he shifted to a new line, and began to write, this time with less grace.

I don't wanna feel better

No one's ever gonna love me like that again

I don't wanna get over you

I wanna sit with you in bed

I don't wanna feel better

I'd give anything to miss you again

I don't wanna get over it

I wanna get under it instead

It felt as if his inner-consciousness was regularly at war with his brain. Thoughts of Hatrack somehow always seemed to invade and plague his mind.

Of course he could keep his mind hushed during the day and force himself to pay attention to work; but in the quiet confines of the night, however, the designated time he kept to truly tear his feelings and thoughts out as the room was darkened in solitude other than that lampshade…

The lampshade was nothing but a personification he created in his mind. The lampshade didn't actually care. No, the lampshade shouldn't care.

He hated that he wanted the lampshade to care, though.

…He was surprised at that particular thought. Was he healing like the lampshade told him so?

A book sits on top of clean and messy blankets

On a bed that fuckin' creaks at night when I get in it late

And late at night, I'm chugging Gatorade

And someone's breaking up when I crack up

Because I know I'll never know just what to say

Ever since he'd left the Port Mafia, all he had done was write. What else was there to do before joining the Agency?

So he wrote.

He filled out books with diary entries. Alongside keeping journals, he began to write poems.

Just like now.

He was honestly surprised how he hadn't done this earlier in his mafia days—it was so much easier to express his thoughts in writing than saying it out loud.

Of course he'd tried. He tried. He tried for him.

Eventually it's impossible to continue, even if the person deserves it.

I'm a communist, a terrorist, an MPDG thot

Or I'm a sad girl in a dorm room, living out the shady Christian plot of

Twilight or The Bible or The Lover by Duras

Or I'm just really fuckin' selfish and really fuckin' lost

It really felt as if he were in a reimagining of some cliché tragic romance, and only for him.

Surely Slug had forgotten all about him. And even if he hadn't, surely he'd have such an impression that, if Dazai’s name were brought up, he'd dismiss the topic with a scorn.

That certainly was the case. Dazai was never wrong in his calculations, after all.

…But, what did he think of that deduction?

But someone loved me, someone fucking loved me

Someone fucking loved me and I fuckin' loved them too

Goddamn it, I was worth something, I fuckin' learned something

I had my cake (I ate it, it ate me too and, God, no)

I don't wanna feel better

Some things always fascinated Dazai.

The fact that he could be the object of affection, for one.

Being so wasn't the same as respect; he had the respect of so many—Port Mafia members when he was still one, his co-workers in the Detective Agency, but to truly be the muse to one’s love and kindness?

His first thought would go to Odasaku. But that was familial.

His second thought made him wonder how he always managed to fucked things up.

We kept our liquor in a suitcase underneath my bed

And we drank it to go out or just stay in or to feel sad

But in a hot way, a way I'll fuckin' never have again

The sun has began to set

Of course Dazai and Slug knew each other as teenagers. And of course they’d drink anyway, because they'd done much more illegal shit than underage drinking.

Dazai drunk a lot. Alone, with his former friends, and even now with the adult members of the Agency—but nothing could meet the odd domesticity of him and Chibi cheering after a mission in his apartment.

Sometimes they drunk because of their shitty lives. Sometimes they drunk just because. Sometimes they drunk as an excuse to stay in his bedroom.

Sometimes they drunk to have something to blame as they awoke a day later in the bed unclothed.

The lamp flickered.

I'm a socialist, Marxist, libertarian slut

I am an awkward teenage virgin and I sort of kinda laugh a lot in bed

But other times, I cry or don't make noise at all

I'd give my life to have a room that feels that small

Dazai is known for his exaggerated expressions—it looked as if he wore his emotions on his sleeve.

It was all a mask, of course. Why would Dazai be that vulnerable voluntarily? Someone would have to force it out.

Someone had.

It felt as if it were yesterday, clinging onto his shirt and bunching it all up in his hands as Dazai buried his face into the shorter man’s neck at an awkward angle, sobbing uncontrollably.

Or sometimes they’d sit together in the comfortable silence.

It wasn't as if he didn't trust the Agency’s members and couldn't be as vulnerable with them because of it, but simply that only when all of them were combined did they equal to what he had with Chibi.

Would he really mind if he’d have to make a switch in spending time with him, than the ADA?

'Cause someone loved me, someone fucking loved me

Someone fucking loved me, I loved them too

Goddamn it, I was worth something, I fuckin' earned something

I have a right to die, a right to live, a right to choose, too

And God, no!

Of course I don't wanna feel better!

Can you fucking imagine?!

The concept of having a reason to live had always confused Dazai. It was possibly his biggest question in life which he usually never gave a second thought to.

Until, of course, the reason arrived. In full force.

Chibi’s reaction to Dazai simply staring at the vein he’d nicked too hard once—the frantic begging for Dazai to take things seriously, the panic in his eyes, a whole storm, not only in his irises, but visible on his face.

He sort of stopped.

He isn't aware why he doesn't go all out while trying out methods anymore.

…To think that blatantly false statement would mock his intellect, yet it was his own thought from his own mind.

He didn't need to think further, simply observing the pen going over the ruled lines in order.

No one's ever gonna love me like that again

I don't wanna get over it

I wanna rip the stars to shreds

I don't wanna feel better

Of course he'd had one night stands here and there in the aftermath of leaving the Mafia.

For him? It was good enough.

He knew it'd be fruitless to look for love, so obviously he wouldn't even bother trying.

Of course it hurt, of course it fuckin' hurt

It hurt like nothing in the world sometimes

That I was super scared, and we were all a train-wreck

And also somehow making it

I think I might've died there twice, and I would do it all again

Port Mafia had fucked him up.

No, to only write one sentence to describe what he had gone through would be an understatement.

The only reason he could even recognise that was because of a special few.

Slug, Odasaku, and now the Agency members. The Agency members who made him unknowingly recognise how easily an environment can be uncontrolling and non-manipulating.

But, despite the change in scenery, which was clearly doing wonders for his mental health—something felt wrong.

Off.

Sure, life at the mafia was terrible, but it felt home, because that was all Dazai knew once. And as the years passed upon his leaving, he came to the revelation that he'd go through with it all over again for him.

I'm a nihilist, a soldier, an OCD-machine

Or I'm a healthy baby-girl who traded sunshine for disease

But when my head hit my cheap pillow, I could tell I had a heart

And I wanna tear this fascist Milky Way apart

Being a weapon never bothered Dazai.

He never even had a reason to live, so when Mori came along, Dazai played his games.

Continuing his way of living with an attempt here and there—the usual. For him, the glass would always be half empty.

Or atleast supposed to.

Getting a reason to live is weird.

'Cause someone loved me, someone fuckin' loved me

All my filthy life I loved someone I barely knew

Goddamn it, I was worth something, I fuckin' learned something

And it felt better in my mouth than fresh warm food

Port Mafia was his entire life once.

And they were partners once.

For the important part of his life, Slug was all he knew. He knew and didn't at the same time.

Sure they told each other things, but it was always either the heaviest childhood trauma or an exchange of insults—no in between.

In spite of the insulting remarks, he felt so understood.

He actually felt as if he had worth.

It was a nice dynamic.

His frantic pace of writing practically turned to scribbles.

I guess I loved you, I guess I really loved you

All my filthy life I loved someone I barely knew

And now you're over there, and I'm way over here

What am I gonna do?

Guess he would admit it.

And he frankly, didn't care.

He didn't care that he'd lost his only chance. He didn't care if the one person who saw him for what he truly was, the one person who’d shown him love and affection in his own way, didn't care.

Good.

Chuuya would feel better without him.

He didn't care if Chuuya believed the opposite. He didn't care if Chuuya believed that having someone who cared about him would help him feel better.

If that truly were the case?

I don't wanna feel better

No one's ever gonna love me like that again

I don't wanna get over you

I wanna sit with you in bed

I don't wanna feel better

Somehow, his mind, his treacherous fucking mind, wanted the opposite. Not the calculating, rational one—no, the emotional one.

He wanted to get over him, he really did—but why would his hand write the opposite? Why did his subconscious steer his strokes in the other direction? Why had he done so the entire poem?

…He really did want to sit in bed with Chuuya one last time.

“Love Is Watching Someone Die”

Jibyeok x Death Cab For Cutie, ‘What Sarah Said’

An angsty Jibyeok songfic!

AO3 LINK

TAGS: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Songfic, Major Character Injury, Afterlife, S01E06 ‘Gganbu’, S01E08 ‘Front Man’

I would love comments and/or kudos if you feel like leaving them on AO3, here is fine too, it all makes my heart happy 💗

Currently rewriting a songfic that I made years ago about Cale and the Alcoholics™ (Bud, Cage, Taylor) partying

Is in Spanish but I can try write it in English, is not gonna be so good because I never took an English lesson in my life and a bot is helping me with the grammar lol

Somebody pls make a TYRUS version of this 😆😙💚🍋

Song mishaps chapter 2

Washing Machine Heart by Mitski

“Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart Baby, bang it up inside,” Lloyd felt like a useless child, Kim had to go through so much worse and here Lloyd was broken up over nothing. It was pathetic.

They had both been hurt and abandoned, but Kim had still been able to make something of himself. What had Lloyd done the second Kim disappeared ? He drank himself to death.

Sucho Sucho Sucho, with out him what was the point to life at all? At least his death had brought them back together.

Kim wasn’t a good person, Lloyd would be naive to think otherwise. No one does something for free. Kim was willing, able and had used everyone that had used him right back to his advantage.

It still hurt.

—- —- —-

A Baron, baroness, knight and student were huddled under the stair way. They weren’t spying. They weren’t! They just figured maybe if they stayed to talk a bit longer….and well it’s not like Javier had to sleep anway.

The baron hushed the families conversation in order to hear lloyd. He hadn’t … gotten around to talking to hi son yet.. Arcos didn’t even know where to start.

Lloyd’s voice carried out to them, “Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart

Baby, bang it up inside.”

They weren’t quite sure as to what a “washing machine” was. More than likely Lloyds new invention, understandably it probably will wash clothes. So why was Lloyd comparing his heart of all things to it.

Bang bang it up inside? Was Lloyd hurt ?

Javier’s teeth clenched, was Lloyd telling someone to hurt him? This stupid bastard.

—- —- —-

“I'm not wearing my usual lipstick

I thought maybe we would kiss tonight”

Kim laughed as Lloyd twirled, hair flouncing about. When’s the last time anyone kissed them? Kim should fix that.

—— —— —-

“I'm not wearing my usual lipstick

I thought maybe we would kiss tonight”

Javier “gently” but quietly placed his hands on to a nearby table. He was going crazy. First he was unable to find any man named Kim and now this. Kiss? Lloyd kissing some unknown man?! Never! As his knight it was Javier’s duty to keep Lloyd safe from any unsavory characters and if this song was any indication… Lloyd was willing to be hurt in exchange for love.

Or maybe already had been? Biting into his lower lip Javier racked his brain for clues. He read poetry, loved it even but he’d never heard any songs like Lloyd’s before.

Wait a fucking minute, lipstick??!?!

—- —- ——

“Baby will you kiss me already and” Kim felt giddy in a sad sort of way. He wanted to scoop Lloyd up and take care of him. Them. They were technically the same soul. Huh, does this count as self love? He surly doesn’t feel like he loves himself. He doesn’t particularly even like himself. Or was Kim just inherently selfish?

Kim had “meet” Lloyd early in life, his imaginary friend. His first friend, his first everything. The last good thing he had when his life was falling apart and he had picked up that damn book.

—- —- —-

“Baby will you kiss me already and…”

Arcos watched Javier’s face turn a bright pink as wood cracked. Well at least him and the family were in agreement they may have made mistakes but no one was going to get away with breaking his kids heart!

—— —- —-

“Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart

Baby, bang it up inside”

“Baby, though I've closed my eyes”

The barons family sighed as the heard Lloyd’s scratchy sweet voice grow tired. Arcos sighed they were definitely going to need at family meeting after this. Why did Lloyd never say he enjoyed singing? Inventing? Architecture?

Did he even know his own son at all?

—- —- —-

“I know who you pretend I am”

“I know who you pretend I am” Lloyd’s voice cracked, to be fair he’d never sang much before. Not in this body- his own body. Kims was always better for that sort of thing.

It stung, he drank and his family did nothing, he yelled and screamed and hurt and they assumed he was a brat instead of asking of listening. He died, he died and put Kim in the front seat. And they. Didn’t. Notice. Kim wasn’t even trying.

His mouth met the taste of salt as he sang on.

—- —- —-

“I know who you pretend I am”

“I know who you pretend I am”

Juliens lips pursed, he felt targeted despite this obviously being a love song. It would be lying if he said he had never pictured Javier as his older brother instead. They all had. That he hadn’t wished for it that he had never said it out loud. That he had never pretended Lloyd wasn’t his brother at all and thrown it in his face.

Gods he had thrown it in Lloyd’s face.

Julien waved off the guilt, this wasn’t about him. This was about someone who had played white his brothers heart. And he would never forgive them for it.

—- —- —-

“Do mi ti Why not me?”

“Why not me? Do mi ti”

“Why not me? Why not me? Do mi ti” Lloyd grit his teeth, why not me? What did I ever do that was so wrong? He knew he wasn’t what anyone in the estate wanted but he wasn’t horrible. He stayed out of everyone’s way. So why. Why not him? Why didn’t they care about him like… he knows he knows his parents love him. But never the way they do about Javier, Julien. Not like how they love Kim.

—- —- —-

“Do mi ti Why not me?”

“Why not me? Do mi ti”

“Why not me? Why not me?”

Julien sucked in a breath okay so maybe this song was impart about him. Them. Impart about them. All of them really.

Javier felt his head spin, why not him? Because he’s awful, stilling Javier stopped himself from immediately eye rolling. And why was that? Why was his first thought to disregard Lloyd’s feelings sure he had been a jerk in the past but …

But that’s not true something in his contours whispered. Was he really that bad a useless drunk sure but he never went out of his way to be cruel. Except to him, and that was only when they were kids. After the sword incident Lloyd had backed off and stuck to ignoring him. Ignoring everyone.

Javier had originally thought of it as pompous arrogance and him being a right brat but maybe it was something else all along?

—- —- —-

“Ppff hahaha Sorry sorry I don’t know what wrong with me,” Lloyd said as he wiped his tears away. Gods they hated crying. Gross

The family below felt a jagged stone hit their hearts.

Marabella wanted to run into Lloyd’s room and and… she was stuck to the ground as that same stone weighed her down. Nobody is perfect and Lloyd has his issues. Before and after his stint drinking but for Lloyd to think there was something wrong with him ??

She looked towards her husband and ended up focusing to the window behind him. New flowers and stone walkways. Out further to everything her son had built. Is this it? Is this why Lloyd’s been working himself to death, because he thinks he needs to in order to prove himself.

Her son, oh her son. He was crying, she can remember the last time he had well and truly loudly cried. He was ten they were going to have a picnic outside and garden. Javier tagged along with her and had sat in Lloyd’s usual seat, she remembers him making a huge fuss out of point at Javier and yelling until she scolded him. He stopped. He stopped sniffled and ran of crying without looking back.

He had stopped joining her for tea after that.

Julien caught his mothers shoulder as she doubles over to cry into her hands.

What? What happened?

Cale Anti-Hero

It wasn’t often that Cale found himself alone. There was always ‘something’ happening so it was totally reasonable that he wanted to take advantage of his new found free time. They had settled on singing; it had use to be Cales favorite pass time with his mother, he had not sang in years and for Kim it had been even longer. ….. they really should had been more careful.

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Ron stopped short of the mansions entryway, Hans and the kids rushing in only to quite. They had all planned to come home earlier today. Had no one told Cale?

Ron huffed, what was this puppy saying? Cale had matured so fast in such a short time, too fast even.

Midnights become my afternoons

Raon chuckled it was just like his human to sleep the whole day away if he could! Good thing Lemon gramps was here to wake him up!

When my depression works the graveyard shift

The wolf children stopped smiling turning to look at Lock, “What does that mean!”, “What’s wrong?”, “Hyung Lock haven’t you been taking care of him!”. Lock stilled beside Beacrox, no no this couldn’t be happening how could their savior, the man who took them in be so unhappy?

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

What did that mean, Cale had never killed anyone if anyone was to be haunted by ghost it should be me though Choi Han. Listening in from a different room in the house, having taken an entrance through the window instead of the door like a reasonable man.

I should not be left to my own devices

Alberu seconded that! Cale never does know when to leave shit alone. He’s been surprised to have gotten a call from Cales children only to be welcomed with the sound of beautiful singing. But Alberus’ stomach began to twist he had a bad feeling just where this was going.

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crises

Rosalyn started next to Alberu ready to teleport at a moments notice! Cheeks puffing in anger, just who on Earth would go to Cale demanding money? And enough to put Cale in crises… maybe this was before from when Cale use to be a trash drunk ? The lyrics did say “vices” after all hhhmmm

Tale as old as time

I wake up screaming from dreaming

The dragon and cats looked at each other in confusion, Cale loved sleep they definitely would have noticed if he had nightmares!

Ron closed his eyes and sighed, oh those nightmares after the first Countess had died. Was he the only one that ever knew about those? Not that he was of much help, Cale was nothing like his own son he still didn’t know how to confront or comfort him at all,

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

'Cause you got tired of my scheming

For the last time

Positively Everyone froze, what? Did Cale think that they would all just abandon him?

Deruth began to cry, he didn’t want to see this anymore. Who had decided to share such a thing with them in the first place? It never would had been Cale. That child never aloud himself to be so vulnerable in front of his family. In front of him. What kind of a father had he been?

The Henituse family could here Deruth crying but no one had any words to console him. After all wasn’t this there fault? They had made Cale feel so unloved and unwanted in his own home that he now believed that no one would stay with him if give the chance.

It's me

Hi!

I'm the problem, it's me

Cage was beginning to regret picking up the call from Cale kids right now. Taylor was utterly distraught and admittedly so was she. Cale was a good person! Their very own lucky charm!

At teatime

Everybody agrees

Basen felt ashamed. He remembered getting into verbal tirades with Cale the first few times his trashy behavior had started. He had told him to act better, for the family’s social reputation if nothing else! But just how many of those tea times included demeaning his brother as a part of the entertainment. And then he had just yelled at him and told him to go back to endure more. He was a horrible brother.

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

Pasetons face flushed a tad, he had considered Cale a bit vain actually. Not that he didn’t have a right to be! But did Cale perhaps not enjoy looking at himself? Did they perhaps have this in common?

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Antihero? But Cale was a hero! Sure he did unsavory things to reach his goals but.. but… did it perhaps bother Cale? He always did say he wanted a slacker life.

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby

And I'm a monster on the hill

If Violan had been less dignified or more hot tempered she would have thrown her teacup into the wall! Instead she rose from her seat to talk to her husband, no one no matter how noble was going to get away with making Cale feel uncomfortable in his own body! Violan smiled, no doubt Cales new body guard and vice captain Hilsmans knights would agree.

Too big to hang out

Slowly lurching toward your favorite city

On and Hong hissed! Yeah to save it!

Pierced through the heart but never killed

Something in Choi Han broke, Cales voice cracked as if he was crying. He never wanted to hear Cale cry, it hurt so much to not be able to do anything- he’d do anything.

Did you hear my covert narcissism

I might disguise as altruism

Like some kind of congressman

Alberu hummed at that, did Cale hate politics that much? What is this feeling ? Oh right guilt.

Tale as old as time

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

And life will lose all its meaning

For the last time

It's me

Hi!

I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)

At teatime

Everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Choi Han decided to join everyone else at the parlor, he couldn’t take this alone anymore.

I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money

She thinks I left them in the will

On and Hong were outraged! They would never love someone so despicable!

Meanwhile every adult was enraged! They would protect Cale and his little family - was that why Cale loved money?

The family gathers 'round and reads it

And then someone screams out

"He's laughing up at us from hell!"

Cage was bewildered why would Cale ever think he would go there? And didn’t Cale not believe in god?!?!

It's me

Hi!

No one knew what to do after the song ended, everybody in person or on call was as tense as a bow string. There were no words to break the tension.

Cale was beginning to play the piano again, oh dear god now what??!?!

luke castellan is chinese satellite by phoebe bridgers proof ‼️

little spoiler for the sea of monsters!!

younger luke, maybe pre or post- scar.

he wants to believe the gods are there and listening and that things are gonna be okay, but they aren’t. and he hates it.

while they’re up in olympus, he’s at camp. one of his best friends got turnt into a tree, there’s dozens of unclaimed children running around him, and the gods simply don’t care.

he feels nothing. but he wants to be wrong.

pre-kronos, but still at camp half-blood.

THIS BITCH IS SCREAMING AT THE EVANGELICALS. HE WILL NEVER BE THEIR VEGETABLE !!

luke cannot even trust anyone anymore. they’re all worshipping their parents as if they care, as if they’re protecting them. but they’re not; and if they are, then why isn’t hermes’ protecting him?

why did herme’s send him on a dumbass quest for no good reason, returning with a scar and a new complex? this is his fault, and luke will be damned if he ever lets himself become a pawn in the god’s game ever again.

post-kronos luke.

kronos is in his brain, and he knows he will never sleep peacefully again. gone are the comforting walls of the hermes cabin, the sound of his half siblings sleeping soundly beside him, the feel of his old bedsheets.

but despite the war in his head and the pit in his stomach, he still has a fraction of hope. hope that his dad is there.

it’s stupid and gullible- he knows is unrealistic. but if it wasn’t true, then how come hermes told percy, annabeth and tyson to speak some sense into him?

how come his dad tricked them into boarding princess andromeda? does he still care?

but then he remembers his poor mother. and he realises that it’s impossible.

Adrien Won't Go Speechless

(forgot the AO3 link)

Adrien desperately banged on the door of his padded cell. He needed to get out, but the nightmares were so intense, so surreal, so horrifying. Every couple of minutes, his mind would flash back to the desolate wasteland coated in the remains of Paris, holding the ashened corpse of Marinette and donning the unnerving white suit. He banged the door one last time before sliding to his knees and letting out a couple of tears. Plagg watched all of this from Adrien’s shoulder, a mix of pity and anger coursing through his mind. This was ridiculous! How could Gabriel do this to his own son! He had half a mind to atomize this entire building, but the power of the unsuppressed Cataclysm could destroy Adrien and Kagami along with it.

Suddenly, one of the walls to the room started to crumble. Plagg quickly jets to find somewhere to hide and Adrien looks at the weakening wall with concern. A fist made of smooth black crystal crashes through the wall, completely destroying it. Two blue feather daggers flew out of the resulting cloud of smoke at the speed of bullets, one of them impaling the camera in the upper corner, and the other impaling the camera in the middle of the alliance robot.

Recognizing the daggers, Adrien stood up and called, “Felix?” 

The cloud of smoke cleared as if on cue, revealing Argos stepping in through the hole. Behind him stepped a 9 foot tall humanoid figure made of smooth black crystal with no hair and a singular white eye on the center of its face. It wore what Adrien recognized as a gi similar to that of Su-Han’s, but blue and white instead of red and black. 

“Hello, cousin. I’m sure you’re happy to see me.” Argos said. 

Adrien looked at Argos with wary eyes as he asked, “What are you doing here?” As soon as the words left his mouth, the nightmare came back, bringing Adrien to his knees as he clutched his head. Argos rushed over to him and kneeled down next to him, putting an arm over his shoulder. “I’m here to get you and Kagami out of here.” Argos explained as he brought Adrien to his feet. 

Adrien began, “No, no I can’t go. Father-”

“Adrien, your father locked you here without a second thought. He took you away from your friends. He’s taken you away from your own true love. That man is despicable.” Argos scolded.

“You don’t know what he’ll do.” Adrien retorted.

Against all better judgment, Argos blurted out, “Adrien, your father is Monarch.”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he stuttered out, “W-what?”

The nightmares began intensifying again. Argos explained everything that’s been going on behind Adrien’s back, that his father has been the menace of Paris the entire time, that he’s the reason Nathalie is on her deathbed, that he’s been doing all of this to revive his mother, that an army of Miraclonized soldiers are attacking Ladybug at this very moment, and the one that shocked him the most, that he, Felix, and Kagami are sentimonsters. That’s why he felt like he could never disobey his father. That’s why he’s felt like a slave his entire life. 

Adrien’s eyes narrowed as he clenched his fist in anger. He tried to stand up but the nightmares intensified again. He looked at Argos and slid off his ring. He handed it to Argos and said, “Take thi-Take this to Ladybug.”

Argos asked, “What, why?” Before looking down at the ring and realizing what it was. Argos’ eyes widened as Plagg floated down next to Adrien and asked, “Kid?”

“I’m not strong enough to fight off these nightmares, but Ladybug is. I won’t be of any use out there or anywhere. I might as well stay here.” Adrien said.

Argos extended his hand to take the ring, but after a moment of hesitation, he changed his mind, instead closing Adrien’s hand around the ring and pushing it into his chest. “The world needs Chat Noir just as much as it needs Ladybug. I’m going to go get Kagami, but you need to fight the nightmares, you need to transform.” Argos said before turning to the sentimonster standing in the corner.

“Helio, follow me.” Argos said. The sentimonster nodded and the two began walking out of the room. Before the sentimonster left the room, it locked eyes with Adrien and gave him a supporting gaze with its singular eye. 

It then left the room, leaving Adrien and Plagg alone. Plagg said, “You heard him, Adrien. Transform. Please.” Adrien whimpered, “I’m sorry, Plagg, I ca-AAAAAAAAAAGH!” The nightmares got even more intense and surreal than they were before. Pain spread through the entirety of his head. He clutched his hair and closed his eyes, trying to bear the pain. Soon, it subsided and he opened his eyes to see that he was back in the wasteland, standing on the top of a building and looking down at the chaos. He saw himself kneeling down on the ground, holding the same ashened corpse. Confusion filled his mind as he looked to the right and saw a giant ripple of sea water making its way through Paris. 

Here comes a wave meant to wash me away, designed to start pulling me under. 

He watched the wave wash over the other him and coat the rest of the destroyed city.

Broken again, left with nothing to say, my voice drowned out in the thunder.

He blinked and found himself at the front steps of Francois Dupont. Adrien reeled back in shock as he watched himself running up the steps of the school. The other him stopped halfway and turned around to look at…Nathalie!? And then Adrien realized that this is one of his memories. As the familiar argument ensued, Adrien turned to see Master Fu laying on the ground. It felt good to see Fu again, he’d never even heard any more of Fu after Miracle Queen.

Try to resist, but I’m just isolated.

The other him ran down the stairs to go help Fu, and Adrien smiled. He was forever thankful for this moment. The moment that began the legacy of Chat Noir and granted him that small taste of freedom.

I can’t assist, so forget me and let me drown.

With another blink, he was taken to the front room of the mansion. His home. 

I wait in silence, hope on the horizon.

Adrien slowly trudged up the steps. He tried to feel the guard rail, but his hand just went right through it. He continued trudging as he looked at the picture of him and his father at the top of the steps. 

Let it be, don’t riot. It’s too late, just go lay there speechless. 

He walked towards his room door.

It’s paining, I feel my weak heart aching.

Adrien phases through his room door to spread his gaze across his wide and spacious bedroom. Many would’ve called this place heaven, but especially now, it and the rest of the mansion felt like another prison.

I hear her screams, m’lady. It’s my fate, so I’ll wait here speechless.

He blinked and found himself inside of the school. He saw another him walking to class with Nino, Marinette, and Alya walking with him.

Every order, arrangement, contract. 

Another blink and he was standing at the back of his full and lively classroom, watching the other his classmates talk excitedly. 

Said from the mouth of another. 

He slowly looked over the bright smiles of his classmates, and stopped when he saw the radiant shine of Marinette’s beautiful expression. 

Every scream from the selfishest quest.

He blinked and found himself in his father’s work room, facing the portrait of his mother.

To fruitlessly bring back my mother. 

He ran his hand across the painting.

Would she be proud of what he’s doing?

In the blink of an eye, he was taken to another memory, one of a much younger Adrien holding his mother’s hand while she laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling. 

Would she believe that this was for the best?

He was then transported to the top of another building, staring down at an undestroyed Paris. He looked to his left and saw Ladybug standing next to him. He looked down at his hands and realized he was Chat Noir. A cloud of smoke erupted from the bottom of the Eiffel tower and Ladybug started swinging towards it. A smile spread across Chat Noir’s face as he ran and leaped over the rooftops.

I can’t be silenced, can’t keep up this abiding.

He vaulted across the sky, feeling like he was walking on clouds.

Can’t tremble when he tries it. I will rise, no more crying speechless. Speechless!

He landed on the ground in the middle of a crowd of humanoid figures made of solid black energy. They rushed at him and started to battle them all.

So I’ll bleed, like those he came before me! I’m half of what the world needs! 

With one final attack, he knocked the last of the figures to the floor. The ground beneath him started to crumble.

Better late than to lay here speechless!

The ground crumbled, causing him to fall into a pitch black void. He twirled his staff above him to slow his descent. 

You can’t order me around, and I won’t back down and comply!

He landed on some invisible platform. 

I will take these rusted claws and cut these frayed and wethered ties!

Suddenly, all sound cut out as Chat Noir turned around and eyed a levitating blue string. It ran for miles and seemed to be connected to nothing, but something inside him knew what it was. It was a physical manifestation of the magical bond that linked him to his father, or rather, his father’s ring. His eyes narrowed as he held his hand up in the air and roared out, “Cataclysm!” 

Instead of the normal black bubbles, a solid mass of black energy formed in his palm. It grew, and twisted, and changed shape around his hand until it formed sharp claws radiating with destructive black light. He stared down the line swinging his claws at the string.

Hear the echoes screaming out!

The claws impacted the string and severed it completely. The moment the string was cut, Adrien was blasted back to real life. It felt like a myriad of strings had been detached from his body. All except one.

Plagg looked at Adrien with concern and anticipation. The young Agreste stood up, raised his fist in the air, and roared, “Plagg, Claws Out!” 

I won’t be silent! 

The kwami flew into the ring just as another Alliance robot rolled into the room. Green lightning crawled across his body, forming into his suit. Except it’s different from his normal suit. There are sharp silver accents over it, as well as thick black and neon green boots and gloves with clawed tips. His normal belt was replaced by what looked like a utility belt with a gold cat’s head shaped buckle, and attached to the back of this belt was a wider black rectangular tail-like attachment with a golden circle and neon green tassels at the end of it. 

Out there’s a life without you, and I’ll find it! It’s my fate, I won’t wait here speechless! Speechless!

Chat Noir raised his hand in the air and yelled, “Mega Cataclysm!” A pillar of black energy erupted from his hand, piercing through the ceiling. He lowered his hand, and the beam along with it. The beam acted as a sword as he pulled it in a circle and cut the building in half horizontally. 

I’m breaking, my freedom I’ll be taking, I’ll be there to help my lady! 

The top half of the building crumbled to debris. Chat Noir pulled out his staff and vaulted himself through the destroyed roof.

Cause I know that I won’t go speechless! All I know is I won’t go speechless! Speechless!

He vaulted into the skies as Argos and Kagami watched from the roof of a nearby building.

Shoto Todoroki x Fem!Reader - Need You Now - Songfic based on the song by Lady A

This is my first full on story/oneshot here so I hope the people of Tumblr like it! I always knew I wanted to do something angst-based as soon as I heard this song a while ago, but I had to make it angst to happy ending cuz I often feel so sad when I read stories that is just left after the angst. I need comfort!! I also wanted to do a reader story since that’s bascially all I read nowadays! I also decided to do female reader since that is what I am most comfortable with, so sorry if that is not your thing. Anyways, I hope this is good enough, I really tried with this one, so hope you all enjoy! <3

Info to know beforehand!! (Although you all already know this most likely!)

Y/N means Your Name (L/N means Last Name)

(e/c) means eye color

(h/c) means hair color

(s/c) means skin color

Texts is in italics

The room was dark. Lights were off except for in the connected kitchen and living room area. Y/N sat on the couch, dressed in sweatpants and a long-sleeved sweater belonging to her boyfriend, a bottle of wine standing on the table together with a half-full glass. Picture perfect memories were scattered all around the floor from the fight that happened a few hours earlier. Fight… was that the right word for it? Maybe argument was a more correct word? She didn’t care. Her mind was filled with thoughts and questions. Was it her fault? Or his? What did they argue about again? She didn’t quite remember, nor did she care. She just wanted to see her boyfriend again.

Teary (e/c) eyes all red from crying, looked up and scouted, seeing the empty room before her, the quiet feeling so foreign to her. She reached for her phone lying on the table, immediately opening it and opening the gallery app. Y/N looked through the pictures of them together: One from an amusement park date from three weeks ago, the pair eating churros while looking at the camera. Another picture from last year when they went on a cruise to celebrate their two year anniversary as a couple, the sun setting behind them while they held each other close. The tears were starting again, she couldn’t fight it anymore. She bailed her feelings out, screaming and crying, not caring who heard her. Y/N lifted her eyes after a while, tears continuing to stream down her face. She switched to the contacts app to see that he left a few messages that made her heart light.

Hi, how are you doing? I don’t know if you’ll see this message or if you want to, but if you do then please… call me. Please <3

Me again. Just wondering if you’re still angry with me, and if you are then I can’t blame you… I was a jerk for getting mad at you, no not a jerk... an asshole. I miss you… :(

Can we please forget this? I really miss you.... </3 Can I come back to the apartment? Or do you wanna come here? There aren't that many people here now… although I would love to be in your arms again </3 Please…? <3

The clock showed a quarter after one, and Y/N looked out the window of the apartment after reading the messages over and over, her (h/c) hair tousled with some strands hanging in front of her face. He wanted to apologize, so did she. He cared for her, and she knew that. It was just a stupid little argument that happened between, an argument that ended with him storming out of the door of their shared apartment going who knows where. He was most likely in the city. That didn’t matter right now though, because all she wanted was to see her lovely boyfriend again. She was all alone and she needed him now. That was it! She wiped her tears and texted him back:

Yes please… Come back! I need you now, here, in my arms again! <3 I don’t know how I can do this without you, I just… need you now <3

In the dark of the city, at a local bar sat Shoto Todoroki. In his hand was a shot glass with whiskey. He gripped it tight and poured it down in one go, the strong alcohol flowing down his throat. It was probably his third, maybe fourth glass of it, but that wasn’t the most important thought he had at the moment. His eyes were glued to the bar-table he sat by, the bartender cleaning some glasses on the other side by the corner. “Another shot of whiskey please.” Shoto’s voice came out as bland and emotionless. The bartender lifted his gaze from the glass he was cleaning to the boy across from him. “Of course sir. It will be your fifth shot this evening though, are you alright?” The bartender spoke in concern as he took the bottle and poured the amount in the glass Shoto still held in his hand. Shoto’s eyes narrowed in question: Was he alright? Is this really what he should be doing now, drinking his thoughts away? He let go of the glass and shoved it away from him, the liquid still in the glass. No, he should return to Y/N soon, this was ridiculous! Him drinking? That was so unlike him! He remembered though that his father used to drink after a difficult job at the agency, after a task that didn’t seem to reach a conclusion, or just after a general hard day. The thought angered Shoto. He was turning like his old man... great.

Shoto reached for his phone in his pocket and decided to check if she had responded to his messages. Maybe the three messages he sent was making him seem desperate? That was the last thing he wanted to do. He switched his gaze from the phone in his hand to the door of the establishment. Maybe she would walk through that door soon and surprise him, hug him and tell him that everything was ok. Sweep in the way like he remembered she did before. But no, she didn’t. It wouldn’t be that easy anyways. He returned to look at the phone when the message sound reached his ears. His eyes widened… she answered!

Yes please… Come back! I need you now, here, in my arms again! <3 I don’t know how I can do without you, I just… need you now <3

The simple message brought him so much joy and relief. He stood up from the bar-chair and handed the bartender some money plus tip. “Keep the change and I didn’t need the fifth shot anyways. Excuse me.” He grabbed his jacket and put it on in a hurry, scrambling out the door to get back to his girlfriend. “Ok then, have nice… night.” The bartender grabbed the money and watched as the two-toned hair boy went out the door, a smile on his face as he continued to clean the glasses.

Shoto ran as fast as he could back to the apartment where he knew you were. Luckily, the bar wasn’t that far away from the apartment complex you both lived in. He didn’t even think of calling a taxi, probably because he was a little drunk from the few whiskey shots he took. All he knew was that he needed to get back and reconcile with his lovely girlfriend and apologize for that stupid argument that caused this. What was it about again? He shook his head of the thought, the matter not being important anymore. He ran and ran, his lungs burning and his body begging for a little break, something that Shoto did not have the time for right now.

He reached the complex and decided to take the stairs rather than the elevator, the adrenaline in him kicking. The elevator would have been faster, but he didn’t think of anything other than seeing you again. Your beautiful (h/c) hair that he loved to brush his fingers through, your glowing (e/c) eyes he could stare at hours after hours, your magnificent (s/c) skin he loved to touch with his hands. After many flights of stairs his eyes started to tear up from the thought of seeing you again. Everyone who knew him knew that Shoto Todoroki didn’t cry. He always wore a calm expression, almost looking bored sometimes, but he never cried. He did now though, letting his eyes water. He blinked trying to push the tears back, but he couldn’t deny it any longer.

He now stood in front of the door to the apartment, trying to catch his breath. He lifted his hand and knocked three times. After a painfully long moment (at least to Shoto), the door opened wide and Shoto’s eyes widened when seeing you standing there looking up at him with red eyes. Oh no. He made you cry. That… he didn’t even think of that possibility. “I-eh…” Shoto couldn’t find the proper words. He had something planned out on the way to the apartment, but now he wasn’t able to say any of it! “Oh I…” Y/N was exactly the same. The words just didn’t want to come out. They both stared at each other, no one uttering a single word. Until Shoto decided to take a step forward and then another. Y/N in response took a step back and then another, as they both moved further into the apartment. When Shoto finally entered the apartment fully, he immediately closed the door behind him without looking away from Y/N. She waited for her boyfriend to make a move, and to her surprise and shock, he did just that.

Shoto’s hands took hold of Y/N’s face and she didn’t get the time to react in any way as he locked their lips together in a loving kiss, finally letting the tears he had in his eyes fall down his cheeks. Y/N’s eyes widened briefly before closing and letting her own tears cascade down her cheeks as well. The kiss felt warm and for Y/N it felt like all the sadness and anger from before faded away in an instant. It was almost like the kiss made light return into the room. And that light felt amazing for both of them!

They separated and looked each other in the eyes, (e/c) eyes staring lovingly at grey and cyan blue orbs. Both were left panting due to the intense kiss they just shared. “I am so sorry that I yelled at you, Y/N. I- I immediately regretted what I said. I love you so much, and I really appreciate you being in my life! I want you to know that!” Shoto’s voice came out so… broken, and Y/N immediately knew that he had been trying not to cry but eventually succumbed to the tears anyway. Y/N gave him a smile, eyes still teary from earlier. “I’m also very sorry. I love you so so much too! I love being with you every day, and I want you to know that you can come to me with your problems so that we can try to solve them together! Let’s do that next time, m‘kay, so that we can avoid fighting like we did now.?” Y/N moved her hands from her sides to grasp Shoto’s hands. His was so warm, ironically though since you would think his quirk would make one of them cold. But nevertheless it was such a comfortable feeling. Being here, with him, together again.

“It’s like you said: I literally don’t know how I can do without you. I need you… now and always.” Shoto declared with a soft smile playing on his lips. Y/N smiled back at him. “I feel the same, Sho!” She lunged at him and hugged him tight, with him immediately wrapping his arms around her returning the hug. “Want to chill on the couch, maybe watch a movie and cuddle?” Y/N asked, looking up at Shoto with still blank eyes. He looked down at her, smiled lovingly and gave a simple answer: “Yes.”

And that’s how you two ended up on the couch, a random movie playing in the background, while you and Shoto were lying together on the couch cuddling close. Your head was placed in his lap and he played with your hair with one hand while the other was holding yours, fingers intertwined. The movie was becoming the least important thing happening at the moment. You were busy showing your love and giving comfort to each other. “Are you even watching the movie, Sho?” You suddenly asked looking up at him. He answered with a shrug of his shoulders accompanied by “No not really. Are you though?” He looked down at the girl with a knowing grin. She smiled sheepishly and hid her face in his sweater before giving a very muffled answer “No.” He just chuckled at her action and continued to play with her hair. Y/N removed her face from his sweater and continued to lay comfortable in his hold. The comfortable silence took over again.

The hours passed and before you knew it, the movie was finished and was currently playing the end credits. On the couch was a passed out Shoto and Y/N, comfortably bundled together, their soft breaths being the only sound in the room. They were both fast asleep, but still they were holding hands, looking like neither wanted to let go. This was their comfort: Each other. Even fights like the one they had many hours ago wasn’t enough to seperate them for long. They knew they would apologize afterwards, because they knew their shared love was stronger than any harsh words thrown at each other previously. It was clear as day, that the love between Shoto Todoroki and Y/N L/N was a strong bond that was gonna last long into the future, even into future fights their love would bring them back again. Because they also knew that they needed each other, always.

Maroon | Alex Cabot x Casey Novak

Casey brings home flowers on a random afternoon, and it stirs up more feelings than either of them expect. Just a quiet moment between two people still figuring each other out. based on Maroon by Taylor Swift hurt/comfort, angst 5k wc

reupload, abandoned fic

The first rays of pale sunlight seeped through the windows of Alex Cabot’s loft, illuminating the incense ash that sprinkled across the oak floor.

Casey Novak, with her rumpled hair and wine-flushed cheeks, tucked her legs beneath her and knelt beside the record stand. She gently brushed the sandalwood from cardboard jackets: Rumors, Tusk, Mirage. Faint creases on sleeve corners told their own quiet stories of late‑night needle drops long before she’d moved in, long before Alex had made space for another toothbrush beside hers.

From across the rug, Alex tipped the soiled incense holder over the small trash bin, grimacing as the ash slid from the ceramic in a hush of gray. Her borrowed Harvard Law crewneck hung just past her thighs; every time she shifted her weight, Casey’s gaze caught on the swing of fabric, the easy way Alex occupied her own home—and now, somehow, Casey’s too.

They’d meant to review witness statements and crash early. Instead, Alex had put Fleetwood Mac on the turntable, and Casey cracked open some cheap‑ass screw‑top rosé. Everything after Blue Letter dissolved into laughter—burned popcorn, a debate over hearsay exceptions, Casey’s terrible impression of Judge Petrovsky that made Alex choke on wine and clutch her ribs.

Steam drifted from a single mug on the coffee table—the blonde’s jasmine tea. Casey had already stolen a sip, her lipstick print glowing a faint maroon on the rim beside Alex’s own. She lounged back against the couch, idly brushing her toes against the loose hem of Alex’s sweater, a slow, playful sweep that made the burgundy fabric sway and Alex glance down with a half-smirk.

“How’d we end up on the floor, anyway?”

Alex asked, voice still rough with sleep. Casey, knees drawn up and heels resting in Alex’s lap, tugged her hair down from its haphazard bun and let it encompass her shoulders. “Easy culprit,” she said, a lazy grin tugging at her mouth. “Your old roommate’s bargain-bin wine demolished our sense of time management.

Alex’s laugh was a quick, unguarded burst, sharp and melodic, filling the loft with the kind of warmth that made everything feel brighter. The sound bounced off the brick walls, then sank into Casey’s chest, stirring something she hadn’t realized had settled there. It was a sound she didn’t know she’d need this much. One she’d come to crave more than anything. Three weeks had passed since Casey moved in. Boxes were still haphazardly stacked in corners, a lone lamp perched on the dresser with no shade. But mornings like this, with Alex beside her, had a way of making everything feel rooted in place, as though they'd shared this space for years, not just weeks.

A faint draft slipped in from the fire escape. Smoke from the incense curled and spiraled, pale and gentle against the glass, wrapping the room in its quiet calm. For a few moments, they simply listened. The soft popping of vinyl static, the ticking radiator, the steady, almost shy rhythm of two heartbeats learning the same tempo. Outside, Manhattan kept its frantic pulse, taxis groaning across the wet pavement, but from up here, the noise felt decades away.

Alex reached for the kettle, poured a second mug, and handed it over. Their fingers grazed and Casey’s pulse thrummed, not with urgency but with a grounded certainty that surprised her.

“So,” Alex said, voice soft enough that it nearly blended with the crackle of the record, “when we finally unpack those boxes, where do you want your books?”

Casey leaned her head on Alex’s shoulder. “Somewhere close. I’m tired of looking for things I’ve already found.”

Outside the window, snow began to fall, the first flake landing on the wrought‑iron rail like a single note on an open staff. Inside, two women sat amid incense ash and album sleeves, finishing lukewarm tea and memorizing a silence that felt, for once, like home.

Two nights later, winter hovered indecisively above the city, unable to choose between sleet and snow. The courthouse steps were slick and gleaming when they stepped off the curb, breath visible in the cold.

“You didn’t even call,” Casey said, not looking at her. Her heels clicked down the sidewalk. 

Alex tried to catch her pace. “I was buried in witness prep, Casey. I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“You don’t even have to ignore me,” Casey shot back, then stopped, folding her arms tight across her chest. Her shirt was damp, her curls frizzing at the edges, and her voice came out low. “You just forget.”

The words landed like a slap. Casey wasn’t raising her voice, but that calm, steady tone was worse. Alex opened her mouth, closed it again. They stood in the glow of a streetlamp, faces half in shadow.

“I didn’t forget,” Alex finally said. “I just… lost track of time.”

“You always do.” Casey’s voice broke, just a little. “And I wait. And I forgive it. And I keep showing up.” She was calm, but underneath her voice was that quiet, brittle kind of sadness that never announced itself until it was already settling in.

Alex ducked into a bodega, the kind with flickering lights and a handwritten sign for oranges out front, without a word. When she came back, she had a bottle of wine (actual cork, not screw-top) cradled in her hands. “Come on,” she said. “Walk with me?”

Casey hesitated. Then, she stepped out of her heels and scooped them up by the straps. “Only if you promise not to talk about depositions.”

“I solemnly swear,” Alex said, and Casey gave her a tiny smile.

They walked under a dull streetlamp that made everything look a little more golden. Casey tipped her head back and gave a spin on the wet sidewalk, hair flying. “Tell me again why we don’t just quit and move to Barcelona.”

Alex laughed, startled and bright. “You don’t speak Spanish.”

“You do,” Casey teased, and twirled again, before handing the bottle back over. “Problem solved.”

A cab tore past, catching a puddle, Alex jolted to protect the wine, but the bottle tilted just enough to splash a crimson streak across Casey’s white blouse.

“Oh my god,” Casey gasped.

“Oh my god,” Alex echoed, horrified. “Casey, I am so sorry—”

“You spilled Rioja on the one thing in my wardrobe that didn’t already look like a crime scene,” Casey said dramatically, but her grin was spreading.

“I’ll replace it.”

“You can’t replace white-collar ugly,” Casey said, eyes dancing.

And then she started laughing. Real, unguarded, throw-your-head-back laughing. It bubbled out of her so easily that Alex couldn’t help joining in, half-doubled over with relief.

“I choose you,” Alex said between gasps, holding the wine like it was sacred. “Always. Even when I’m an idiot.”

“Especially when you’re an idiot,” Casey said, still breathless. “You’re kind of my favorite idiot.”

Then Alex tugged her closer, gingerly, because the wine bottle was still open, and Casey dropped her shoes and wrapped both arms around her neck. They swayed there, in the middle of the sidewalk, tipsy on nothing but each other.

No music. Just the soft rhythm of laughter, the spill of streetlight, and the way the world seemed briefly, wonderfully, theirs.

Casey dropped her bag. Too hard. Alex winced at the sound.

“You could’ve backed me up,” Casey said, not looking at her. “You didn’t have to cut me off like that.”

Alex, already toeing off her heels by the couch, sighed. “It wasn’t personal.”

“It never is with you.”

Alex turned slowly. “Excuse me?”

“You treat me like your intern. Like I’m lucky to even be in the room.” Casey’s voice cracked, too loud for the space between them, but still too small. Inferior.  “I’m not your assistant. I’m second chair. I earned that.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Alex snapped. “You think I asked to work with someone who—” She stopped. Bit the rest off and swallowed it down.

Casey stared. “Someone who what?”

Alex said nothing.

“Jesus,” Casey breathed. “You’re unbelievable.”

She shifted nervously. She knew she was getting ahead of herself but the words were coming out too fast for her mind to stop it. “You don’t even see it, do you? You walk into a room and everyone listens. You speak and people shut up. You don’t have to prove yourself every goddamn day.”

There it was. What Casey could never quite say out loud. The burden that loomed between them. A brick wall. That she felt like a shadow beside Alex. That even when they were laughing, touching, kissing, part of her never stopped wondering how long it would take for Alex to realize she could do better.

Alex crossed her arms, spine straight as a ruler. “You’re being emotional.”

That did it.

Casey’s eyes went glassy, but her jaw locked tight. Alex’s gaze flickered. Just for a second. But it was enough. Enough for Casey to see the wall slam into place behind her eyes. Cold. Controlled. Done.

“I love you,” Casey said, a last-ditch effort, her voice ragged. “But I’m tired of feeling like this. Like I’m chasing after someone who won’t even turn around.”

Alex blinked, but didn’t move. Didn’t answer. The silence pressed in so hard Casey thought it might crush her. She turned and stormed down the hall. And when she reached the bedroom, she didn’t hesitate, just slammed the door so hard it rattled the frame. Then came the sobs. Messy, awful ones, muffled into the sheets of their shared bed,

Out in the living room, Alex stared at the door for a long minute. Then she picked up her heels and her keys and walked out. Quiet. Composed. Like she hadn’t just left a wreck behind her.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

Crammed into the single‑stall bathroom at the office, whisper‑laughing like schoolgirls at a sleepover instead of two ADAs with open case files and coffee breath.

“Stop moving,” Casey hissed, blotting at Alex’s collarbone with a wet paper towel that wasn’t helping at all.

“I told you not to use teeth,” Alex whispered back, biting her lip to keep from laughing. Her button-down was already halfway open, revealing a smudged scarlet mark just peeking over the neckline.

“I didn’t use teeth,” Casey grinned. “Not exclusively.”

Alex glared but her lips twitched. “You’re a menace.”

The mirror caught the flush on both their faces, the way Alex leaned into Casey’s touch like it was gravity. Somewhere outside, footsteps echoed down the hall, but the moment stayed quiet, warm, dizzy with stolen time.

“We should probably get back,” Alex said, though she didn’t move.

Casey’s fingers brushed the mark one last time. “Too late. Everyone already saw your scandalous hickey. The entire floor knows you’re getting railed by your second chair.”

Alex snorted. “Jesus.”

“Don’t worry,” Casey murmured, eyes soft now. “I’ll make sure you win your next case. For…reputation’s sake.”

And Alex, against all her instincts, let herself laugh, really laugh, and pulled Casey in by her stupid tie.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

She didn’t even hear the front door close. Just the quiet afterward, thick and mean, like the apartment itself was holding its breath. She slid down the side of the bed until she hit the floor. Her coat was still buttoned, hair still pinned, makeup smudging with every wipe of her sleeve. Her sharp composure was gone, replaced with a mess of hiccupped sobs and red eyes, knees pulled up to her chest. 

There were no more hickeys now. No giggles. Just silence thick as grief and the echo of Alex’s voice saying nothing at all when it mattered. She’d cried herself sick and quiet, tucked under her blanket with the door still locked, but it hadn’t helped. The ache stayed put.

Why did it always feel like this with Alex? She wanted to be chosen. Wanted to be seen. She loved her. God, she loved her.

But she couldn’t keep bleeding just to prove it.

In another part of the city, Alex poured herself a drink she didn’t want, stared at a text she couldn’t send. She wanted to call. To say I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. Come home. 

Maybe she thought Casey needed space. Maybe she was punishing herself. Maybe she didn’t know how to be soft without breaking. She told herself she didn’t slam the door because she was composed. That she left because she needed space. Because Casey was being unfair.

The words echoed in her mind, muffled by the way her chest ached, tight and quiet. 

I love you.

She didn’t mean to hurt her. She never meant to. But closeness always came with edges. And love, real love, scared the hell out of her. Casey wanted all of her. But Alex didn’t know how to hand herself over without losing the pieces she spent years keeping safe.

Casey brought home flowers.

Not for any real reason. No anniversary, no apology (not officially, anyway), no big win in court. Just a gray, dreary afternoon that needed a splash of color. She’d stopped at the bodega on her way back from arraignments, half-frozen from the wind and tired in that deep, court-stenographer-in-your-brain kind of way. The bouquet wasn’t fancy, red blooms bunched together with a rubber band, wedged in a dented metal bucket near the checkout. They were the only ones that didn’t look half-dead. And they looked enough like roses from a distance.

She paid in crumpled singles, grabbed a chocolate bar for good measure, and walked the last few blocks to the loft with the flowers bundled tight in one arm. By the time she made it inside, her nose was pink, her coat smelled faintly of coffee, and her nerves had started creeping in.

Alex was on the couch, reading a magazine of some sort, hair twisted up and glasses sliding down her nose. Casey stood there for a beat, watching her. Then she cleared her throat, casual as she could manage.

“These’re for you,” she said, holding the bouquet out like she might backtrack if Alex didn’t reach fast enough.

Alex looked up, surprised. “Oh,” she said, setting the papers aside. “Thanks.”

Alex accepted them with a smile she hadn’t worn in days, something small and sincere and just for Casey, even if Casey didn’t look long enough to see it. She disappeared into the kitchen so fast Alex almost laughed.

She opened a cabinet with more force than necessary, pulled down the first glass thing that resembled a vase, and turned the tap on low. While trimming the stems, she caught sight of the little white sticker folded into the paper sleeve.

CARNATIONS — $6.99

Her fingers stilled. Just for a second.

Not roses. Carnations. Of course they were carnations. She stared at them a moment longer than she meant to, then peeled off the tag and tossed it in the trash like it hadn’t caught her off guard. She kept cutting, arranging. Pushed the thought away.

When she turned around, Alex was standing in the doorway, arms folded, expression unreadable but soft at the edges.

“You thought they were roses, didn’t you?” Alex said, quiet but not teasing. Just... knowing.

Casey’s answer was automatic denial. Of course it was.

“No,” she lied. “I mean—they’re red. Close enough.”

Alex didn’t press. She stepped forward and touched the petals instead. They were soft, full, bright red. Carnations or not, they were beautiful. So was the effort behind them. So was Casey, awkward, flushed, and pretending it didn’t matter.

What Casey didn’t know, what Alex would probably never say out loud, was that the flowers were already perfect. Not because they looked like roses, but because Casey thought they would pass for them and still brought them anyway.

“They’re pretty,” she said finally. “Really.”

Alex had spent so much of her life being measured, held up to standards, expected to be perfect. And Casey made her feel human. Not always in a gentle way. Sometimes it was clumsy or loud or full of missteps. But it was real. Messy and meaningful and real.

She looked at Casey, still holding the vase like a question, and felt her throat tighten.

You’re always trying so hard, she wanted to say. You don’t have to.

But the words didn’t come. Alex was good at holding her tongue. At silence. At taking up less space in the room so no one could accuse her of being too much.

She leaned in and kissed her temple, murmured a soft thank you that landed somewhere behind Casey’s ear.

It helped. A little. But even as she smiled and leaned into the warmth of it, Casey couldn’t stop thinking: I meant to bring you roses.

*******

Alex sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on her knees, hands clasped quietly. The carnations were in a mason jar on the windowsill now, catching the last of the city light. They looked brighter here. Or maybe it was just the way Casey kept glancing at them like they might vanish.

Alex hadn't said much. She rarely did when things mattered most. But her eyes kept drifting toward Casey, who was curled up on her own side of the bed, hoodie sleeves bunched in her fists, legs drawn up like a child. She wasn’t crying, not really, but there was a crease between her brows like she was waiting to be wrong again.

Alex hated that. Hated that Casey walked through the world like she always had something to prove, even to her. She didn’t know how to fix that. Not without screwing it up more.

Sometimes Alex forgot how new this all still was. How love looked different in Casey’s hands: louder, messier, wrapped in too many layers. Carnations she thought were roses. Apologies she never said but still brought home in paper-wrapped bundles from the corner store.

Alex had always admired Casey’s fire. But now it felt like that fire kept trying to prove it wasn’t a flicker. Like Casey believed she had to earn this every single day. To earn her every single day. She rubbed her thumb against the ring of condensation on her water glass and swallowed the quiet between them.

“I don’t care that they weren’t roses,” she said finally. Her voice came out lower than she meant it to, but steady. “You could’ve brought me a bouquet of bodega receipts and I still would’ve put them in water.”

Casey blinked, startled by the words, maybe even more by the softness in them.

Alex didn’t look away. “I know I don’t make this easy. I pull back when I shouldn’t. I go quiet when you need me loud.”

Her voice caught, but she kept going.

“But you try so hard, Casey. You always do. And I see it. Even when you think I don’t.”

Casey looked down, biting her lip like she didn’t believe it. Or didn’t know how to.

Alex reached over and took her hand. Just held it. No speech, no grand gesture. And for once, Alex let it be enough.

“I love you so much it scares me,” Casey said, voice barely above a whisper.

She wasn’t sure what she expected. Maybe silence, maybe some diplomatic half-answer. But Alex didn’t say anything. Instead, she stepped closer, close enough that Casey could smell her shampoo, faint bergamot and something darker. She reached out, fingertips brushing along Casey’s jaw like she was memorizing it. No rush. No sharp edges.

Then she knelt and pressed their foreheads together, slow and steady, like a promise.

Casey’s hands curled into Alex’s shirt without thinking, just needing something to hold. She blinked fast, trying not to cry again, and felt Alex’s arms come around her in that sure, quiet way, like she wasn’t going anywhere.

For a long moment, they just existed there. No more explaining, no apologies. Just breath and skin and closeness.

Alex’s thumb traced lazy circles between Casey’s shoulder blades. Casey exhaled into her neck, tension bleeding out one breath at a time. Everything loud had gone soft.

Outside, traffic rolled on. Inside, it was just them. A little fragile. But still together.

******

The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the radiator and the occasional creak of the old floorboards settling. Alex was asleep beside her, steady in the dark, one hand curled loosely near her chest. Casey lay on her side, staring at the ceiling, eyes burning.

She hadn’t meant to cry. Not again, not now. But it kept coming in slow, steady waves, a tight ache that knotted behind her ribs and refused to let go. She tried to breathe past it. Tried to think of something else—anything else—but her brain wouldn’t let her. It kept circling back to the courtroom, the look on Alex’s face when she cut her off, the way her voice had gone flat like Casey wasn’t even in the room.

She hated how easily it got to her. How small it made her feel. She’d earned second chair. She worked her ass off every day, stayed late, memorized every detail, and still, all it took was one sideways glance from Alex to make her question everything.

She didn’t even know if Alex realized what she did, how the little things added up. The corrections that didn’t need to be made. The praise that never came. The way she’d acted like Casey’s “I love you” was some kind of misstep, something to sidestep and forget.

Another tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away before it could hit the pillow.

Then, slowly, without thinking too much about it, she shifted closer. Not enough to wake Alex. Just enough to feel her warmth. Her legs brushed against Alex’s, and when she didn’t pull away, Casey tucked herself into the space between them, cheek pressed against her shoulder.

Alex didn’t stir. But her arm moved in her sleep, instinctive and loose, settling around Casey’s waist like it belonged there. Casey pressed her eyes shut and let the tears come, slow and silent. She breathed in the warmth of Alex’s skin, the steadiness of her.

It didn’t fix anything. It didn’t make the doubts go away. But for just a moment, wrapped up in the quiet, Casey let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she was wanted. It was enough. At least for tonight.

It wasn’t dramatic when Casey left. No slammed doors, no shouting into the hallway. Just quiet. The kind of quiet that wrapped around her shoulders and made her shiver, even though it wasn’t cold.

Alex was still at work. Probably hunched over her desk, pouring over motions and affidavits like nothing had ever been wrong. Like Casey wasn’t standing here with a trash bag full of skirts and sweaters she barely even liked, feeling like her whole chest was caving in. She moved slowly, like the apartment might notice she was leaving. Touched the back of the worn leather couch where they used to curl up with bad takeout and better wine. Let her fingers skim the chipped corner of the coffee table Alex kept meaning to fix. She wasn’t sure if she was saying goodbye to the space or the memories pressed into it. Maybe both.

The carnations had withered in their vase on the kitchen counter, petals crisping at the edges. Casey almost laughed when she saw them. She thought about tossing them in the trash but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she turned them gently toward the window, like maybe the light would give them a little more time. Time that she didn’t have to give. The box she carried smelled faintly like dust and fabric softener and the candle Alex hated but let her burn anyway. She shifted it higher against her hip, heart knocking hard against her ribs. It shouldn’t hurt this much. It shouldn’t feel like peeling skin from bone.

At the door, she hesitated. Her hand hovered over the handle like maybe there was still some invisible force that would pull her back in. Like Alex might magically appear in the doorway, sweaty from work, tossing her briefcase down and saying, Hey, where are you going? like it was nothing. Like it was fixable.

But Alex wasn’t here. She never was when Casey needed her most.

The spare key felt heavy in her palm. She tucked it under the mug by the door, the one they used to joke was their “communal change jar”, the one  Casey had bought for $2 at a garage sale their first month together. Neither of them had ever replaced it, even though it was ugly and the handle was cracked. It had survived somehow. Casey wasn’t sure they had. She pulled the strap of her backpack higher, wincing at the way the sharp familiarity twisted inside of her. 

Maybe if she had just looked at me, Casey thought. Maybe if I hadn't needed her to choose me out loud.

But the ‘maybes’ didn’t matter anymore. Not when the weight of being almost enough had already hollowed her out.

She opened the door. Paused once, just once, looking back at the place where her heart used to live.

The first time she’d walked out like this, she’d told herself it was survival. This time, she didn’t even know what it was. Just that she couldn’t stay somewhere she wasn’t wanted.

Then she pulled it shut behind her, careful, almost tender.

The lock clicked softly into place. Final.

And for the first time in a long time, Alex Cabot wouldn’t have anyone waiting for her when she came home.

************

She didn’t even remember the cab ride. One minute she was shutting the door behind her, and the next she was fumbling with keys outside the apartment she was supposed to have let go of months ago. She never canceled the lease. She told herself it was practical— just in case —but really, it was because somewhere deep down, she knew she might need somewhere to run.

The door stuck like it always did; she had to shove her shoulder against it. The place smelled stale, like dust and old memories, and she hated how familiar it still felt. The sagging couch was exactly where she left it. The crooked frame of a print she’d bought at a street fair tilted a little further to the left. Nothing had changed except her.

The second the door swung closed behind her, her body gave out. She sank to the floor, knees knocking against the hardwood, box abandoned at her side. It hit the ground with a dull thud and spilled open. Hoodies, leggings, the worn out softball Alex always teased her for, all of it just scattered across the floor like wreckage.

The first sob punched out of her so hard she doubled over.

It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t cinematic. It was ugly and raw and full of the kind of hurt that didn’t have words. She curled her arms around herself, gasping in these shallow, broken breaths that scraped her throat bloody. Her whole chest hurt, like her heart was clawing at her ribcage trying to get out.

She pressed her forehead to the floor and cried until she couldn’t tell where her body ended and the apartment began. She cried like she was emptying out everything she had left, every soft thing Alex had touched, every piece of her she hadn’t guarded closely enough.

How the hell did we lose sight of us again?

The words ran circles in her head, relentless. The thing was, Casey wasn’t even sure Alex ever had sight of them the way she did. Maybe Casey had been seeing something that was never really there. Maybe she loved harder than she was supposed to, needed more than Alex was ever willing to give. 

The sobs kept coming. She couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t stop feeling like the stupid carnations, too. A cheap, almost-right version of what Alex deserved. And the worst part was, even now, with her body wrung out and her heart shattered across this empty apartment floor, she still wanted her.

God, she still wanted her.

The tears eventually burned out, leaving Casey dry-mouthed and shaking on the floor. Her whole body felt too heavy to move, like gravity had gotten personal. She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her Harvard crewneck, but it didn’t help. Her cheeks were raw, her eyes swollen, and there was an ache in her chest that she couldn’t get rid of.

For a long time, she just lay there. Listening to the radiator click and hiss. Watching the ceiling blur and refocus as her breathing tried to settle into something human again. The floor was cold against her palms, and the ball rolled back and forth in slow arcs, tapping softly against the baseboard.

She thought about getting up, thought about finding a blanket, maybe even changing out of the clothes that still smelled like Alex's apartment. But the thought of moving, of doing anything , felt impossible.

So she stayed. Curled onto her side, knees tucked up like some kind of defense against the empty stretch of the room. The walls pulsed quietly around her, full of old laughter, old mornings, old Casey, the one who believed things would work out if she just tried hard enough. She wondered if that girl was still somewhere inside her, or if she’d finally cried her out tonight.

Her body ached in places that weren’t physical.

Sleep didn’t so much come for her as it dragged her under: messy, half-dreaming, tears still drying on her face.

And even in sleep, she reached for someone who wasn’t there.

THE MOMENT I KNEW

Ever since becoming Kuroo Tetsurou's girlfriend you knew what to expect. You understood how much he was working to provide for you and the life you two wanted. Most people would give up on a relationship like yours but you loved him and he loved you. 

It wasn't uncommon for him to show up late to dates. He would apologize over and over with a bouquet of flowers in hand and that smile that always says I'm right here. It made you smile and forgive him because you knew what you got into.

"He said he would be here," you thought, sighing and took a sip of your drink. 

You looked up at yourself in the mirror. The shade of red on your lips matched with your dress perfectly. You looked out at the sea of friends and family that were laughing and having a good time. You knew should join them but there was that one thing missing.

It was a couple hours later mingling with the guests and you just felt you couldn't do it anymore. You wanted to be alone and cry yourself to sleep. Feeling the tears at the corner of your eyes you walked down the hall.

You entered the bathroom and the door shuts. You turn to see Kenma and Bokuto standing in the bathroom with you. They probably knew something was up and followed you in here. You gripped the counter tight as you hung your head.

"Y/n? You alright?" Kenma asked.

You shook your head. You weren't okay because he isn't here yet. "He said he would be here," you said hopelessly.

As soon as the words came out of your mouth you started to cry and slid onto the bathroom floor. Bokuto and Kenma both rushed to your side to comfort you.

"He will be here. I know he's late but he will be here. He loves you and wouldn't miss this," Bokuto said.

You shook your head again and through shaky breaths you spoke.

"It's like everything is in slow motion for me. I bought this dress and put his favorite color on my lips and no one was impressed by it. They are all having a good time and asking about Tetsu and I have to keep lying for him."

You cry harder into Kenma's chest while Bokuto rubs your back. They knew how much this meant to you and he did promise to make it but they knew and you knew it too. He wasn't going to show.

Bokuto asked everyone to leave since it was getting late and you were tired. You fixed your makeup and saw off the guests including Bokuto and Kenma.

Standing alone in your apartment you look around and the gifts and garbage that littered the floor. You ignored all of it to take off your dress and wash away the day. Stepping out of the shower you hear the phone ringing. You knew exactly who it was.

"Hello?"

"Hey baby. I'm on my way."

"Don't bother," you said.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know how humiliating it was to have tears streaming down my face in front of everyone I knew because the one person I actually cared about coming to my birthday didn't show up?"

"I'm sorry I didn't make it," he said.

"Yeah. I'm sorry too. Goodbye Kuroo," you said and hug up the phone.

You put up with a lot with being his girlfriend. The long hours, missing dates, last minute business trips. But this was the moment you knew that you and Kuroo wouldn't last.