Deeper Sentence Starters

my brain: okay, if you aren't going to do any of the shitload of school work you have, you should at least work on that one fic you were supposed to finish months ago

my heart: I have!!!!! an idea!!!! for a new fic!!!!!

brain: wait did you not hear me??! you need to

heart: NEW FIC NEW FIC NEW FIC NEW

brain: you know you have literally x other half-complete

heart: NEEEEEEEEWWWWWW FFFFFFFFIIIIIIICCCCCC

me: *eternal screaming*

PROMPTS   FOR   THE   HEAVY   HEARTED

the burdened:

“  being alive is exhausting.  ”

“  i ruin everything i touch.  ”

“  no one ever helped me when i needed it.  so,  i just.  try to do my best to keep others from feeling that kind of loneliness.  ”

“  i feel like the pain is all i am anymore. ”

“  i wish i remembered anything other than loneliness.  ”

“  i’m not a particularly good person.  but sometimes i wish someone would think i am.  ”

“  i’m just always the one who gets left behind.  ”

“  i never seem to belong anywhere.  or to anyone.  ”  

“  i’m alone.  and it’s my own fault.  but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.  ”

“  i don’t know how to just live.  i constantly feel like i’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.  ”

“  i always expect people to hurt me.  because they usually do. ”

“  i don’t know how to let go of my trauma.  i don’t know what i am without it.   ”

“  it’s better if i’m alone.  i can’t hurt anyone if there’s no one close enough to get hit by the debris of my fuck ups.  ”

“  there are just too many people depending on me.  i can’t rest.  i can’t let them down.  ”

“  i don’t have anything or anyone left anymore.  ”

“  i’m not strong.  or brave.  i survive ‘cause there’s not really any other choice. ”

“  i tried to give up before.  but the universe just didn’t let me.  ”

“  i just want to be done.  i’m tired.  i’m so,  so fucking tired.  ”

“  i know it’s selfish.  but i wish someone would just take care of me.  ”

“  every time i start to feel like things are getting quieter and i can feel safe,  something bad always happens.  ”

“  i tend to love people more than they love me.  and it’s okay.  i don’t mind but…it can be lonely.  ”

“  i just don’t feel like my life makes any difference to anyone.  i’m just here.  ”

the comforter: 

“  hey,  look at me.  i’m listening.  you can tell me anything. ”

“   how can i help you feel less alone?  ”

“  i’m here and i’m not leaving or letting you change the subject.  now talk to me. ”

“  i know you feel like you’re alone and i’m not going to invalidate that.  but i can tell you that i’m here.  and i know there are people who want to care and help if you’ll let them.  ”

“  whatever it is you’re struggling with,  i want to help and it’s not going to make me look at you any different.  ”

“   i like having you around.  and not because of what you can do for me or give to me—  i like you.  i value you as a person.  ”

“   i just need you to know that you’ve never been ‘nobody’ to me.  you’ve never been nothing.  ”

“   you’re important to me.   you hear me?  you’re important.  and that’s never gonna change.   ”

“  i’m not going anywhere until you get some sleep.  ”

“  i want to take care of you.  please,  let me.  ”

“  no one is meant to be all alone.  that’s not how humans are built.  you don’t need to do all this on your own.   ”

“  you don’t deserve the bad things that happen to you.  you never did.  ”

“  i can’t promise you aren’t going to have any more hardship.  but i can promise i’m gonna be right here to get your through it. ”

“  you make a difference in my life.  i’m not just saying that.  it wouldn’t be the same without you here and i don’t want to find out what it’d be like to not have you around. ”

“  next time it gets this bad,  you call me okay?  now you just sit there and i’m gonna make you some tea and soup and we’re gonna talk this out. ”

“   is it getting bad again?  ”

“   you are so much stronger and braver than you think.  ”

#thankyouwoojin

forever and always, nine or none. woojin, thank you so much for everything you have given stays during your time in stray kids. we will always love and support you, and good luck with your future endeavors! take care, and you will always be one of the stars in my galaxy 💫

─── 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4.7k | content: fluff (i promise), slight insecurities, comfort, 5 times he says yes and 1 time he says no

notes: ok ok so guys !! i know i’ve been posting angst recently so i offer you comfort sae !! <3 this man has my entire heart so i’m just gonna embrace it hehe may or may not have been thinking of ‘daylight’ when i wrote this .

summary: the way sae loves you is beautiful. it’s nothing like you envisioned and something you never knew you needed.

“be my girlfriend, then, idiot.”

he’s handsome, seventeen.

even more handsome when he’s on the field, being the beast you know he is. he dribbles past everyone like they’re robots, like they’re snails. he gets into the penalty area and scores, and everyone in the stand cheers.

if there’s one common knowledge in your high school, it’s that itoshi sae is one of the world’s best soccer players.

maybe it’s no wonder that you’re holding a bag full of gifts for sae for valentines, being assistant manager for your school’s soccer team. it’s astounding how heavy this bag is. but you’ll know that in the end, whatever’s inside will likely get distributed between the entire team anyway, given how sae never accepts a single one.

“is it that time of the year again?” sae sighs, squirting water from his bottle into his mouth, towel hanging around his neck as he walks out of the locker room shirtless, fresh after a shower and hair all damp, sticking to the sides of his face.

still handsome.

“would it kill you to accept at least one of them?”

you expect one of his usual retorts—maybe a yes or a one of them could be poisonous. but instead, he grabs the bag from you, still frowning. “fine then,” he says, opening the bag and peering inside before he turns his gaze back onto you, “which one’s from you?”

the one with the purple post-it attached to sae’s favourite candy bar.

“i didn’t give you any, itoshi,” you lie, keeping your calm and crossing your arms. but sae cocks a brow because he doesn’t believe you. “really!”

“yeah, you sure about that?” sae’s tone takes a surprisingly gentle turn, and you find it hard to get used to. especially when it’s coupled with an amused expression.

“really, i’d die before giving anything to a grump like you.”

sae nods his head like he doesn’t believe you and starts rifling through the contents. he takes something out—a candy bar with a purple post-it attached to it. you can’t escape from him even if you tried.

“you’re the most irritating smart handsome guy i know, i hope you make it to the big leagues, i’ll never get tired of watching you play,” sae reads out loud, monotonously because it’s his way of mocking you. his gaze shifts from the note up to you, and he has his answer by your unwillingness to meet his eyes. “slick.”

“oh, shut up,” you tell him before turning on your heels and walking off.

“you want me so bad.”

“you wish, itoshi sae.”

“hey, take the rest of these away from me,” sae calls after you, referring to the big bag of valentines’ gifts you’d just left him with.

you turn around, walking backwards. “i’m not your girlfriend, itoshi, not my job!”

sae smirks. “be my girlfriend then, idiot.”

taken off guard, you fail to watch where you’re walking and fall over a broom, knocking several of the janitor’s stuff over. sae runs over, straight-faced while he holds his hand out to you.

“damn klutz,” he remarks as he pulls you up on your feet.

you’re thankful sae’s not the kind to make jokes like how he swept you off your feet, but the close proximity is making you giddy, in a good way, and you’re not sure you want to pass up on that.

“so?”

“so what, itoshi? and let me go,” you say, trying to pull away from him. he doesn’t let go though.

“say yes, then i’ll let go,” he tells you, and you can feel his breath fanning your lips and you’re sure he’s having a field day watching you get flustered.

“sure you want me, itoshi sae?” because a part of you finds that hard to believe, with the way he rejects other girls left and right and barely feels any remorse.

but what you don’t know is how different you are to him. if he dare say, special. maybe it’s the way you’ve always seemed like the stubborn kind, the kind of girl that refuses to ask for help but secretly wants to be protected. the kind of girl who can always help herself, but kill him if he thinks you’re someone who wouldn’t mind having someone to lean on.

maybe at some point, he started to want to be that person for you. no matter how many times you scream his name for not complying to schedules, no matter how many times you flip your hair against his face. you have everyone on the soccer team on a leash, and most of all sae.

that’s the first time he tells you—yes, he wants you.

“not even if you bribe me.”

at nineteen, sae’s serious about you.

it’s no secret that he’s devoted—you can feel it. because sae isn’t the type to profess his love every day, no. he’s the kind that shows it through his actions, through the way he automatically carries your shopping for you, through the way he always takes your side in public, through the way he looks at you whenever you’re talking.

you have no doubt about it. it doesn’t even cross your mind that he might stray. yeah, you have your priorities, and he has his. you’ll go after them, and he’ll go after his—there’s no reason why you can’t chase your dreams in parallel.

your parents think otherwise, though.

like some rather typical parents do, they’re sceptical; sae can see it in their eyes. the way they furrow their brows whenever you invite him to chime in during dinner, the way they ask investigative questions—things about his past history that even you never asked him.

“mom!” you’re fed up with their interrogation tactics, shooting a warning glare at your parents.

your mom and dad look at each other in resignation before resuming to quietly eat their dinner. you’re reluctant to leave sae alone at the dinner table with your parents while you help to wash up, but sae tells you he’ll be fine. because he will.

they’re humans. they’re like you, just older and less prettier. why should sae be scared?

as expected, the moment you turn the tap on, your parents jump on him.

“you know, she really likes you,” your mom tells him. “i can’t say the same for you, though.”

sae’s never navigated around conversations with parents. he doesn’t know the first thing about this. he’s just keeping his fingers crossed he doesn’t fuck up.

“you look like someone who has a lot of girls, itoshi,” your father chimes in before sae can speak up. “you have a lot of girls on the side?”

he could not be more wrong.

“none, sir.”

why does this effort feel much more than necessary?

“why y/n?” your mother jumps in, and for the first time tonight, sae spots a genuine curiosity in her eyes.

not the best question to ask someone who doesn’t even remotely talk about their feelings. sae finds himself stumped, but your mother is, fortunately, a nice person deep down.

“just tell me this,” she leans forward, and your father seems to relax a little bit, sinking back against his chair. none of you realise the tap’s turned off. “do you love her?”

that’s… premature, if sae has any say in it. and he thinks it’s criminal that he’s telling your mother before he even tells you, but he knows that not admitting it would likely cause a rift between you and them—not something he wants.

making you miserable? no thank you.

so he nods, “yes, i do.”

“you realise that—”

“sir, let me put it this way: you can’t force me to stay away from her, not even if you bribe me.”

from the kitchen, you smile as you listen. looks like you had nothing to worry about after all.

“they’re nothing compared to you.”

you love seeing sae living his dreams; love having front-row seats to his matches, love catching the fleeting glimpses he gives after he wins.

he’s twenty-one and thriving in the soccer scene, more than ever. world-famous and revered. the two of you are stronger than ever, still, because despite how sae looks, he’s much softer than people think.

when he’s running late from practice, he texts you the moment he can, tells you what’s up. when he has to cancel on you, he makes sure he makes it up to you. if he has soccer obligations on special occasions, he’ll let you know.

it’s funny thinking back to the days when you used to squabble with each other, to the days when everyone was tired of hearing you and sae argue.

not that that should be a problem now anymore—why? simple, because non-disclosure agreements are ass. but a highly recommended thing by his publicist; to protect his image, and then he told you not to take it personally because he’s asking all of sae’s close contacts to sign it too.

which didn’t take long.

it was mostly rin and his parents, and some other guys he used to know back in high school.

oh, and there’s you. apparently, you can’t divulge anything about being in a relationship with itoshi sae. so, as far as the world is concerned, he’s a bachelor.

“it’ll sell better,” was all the explanation his publicist offered.

sae had been against it, because why should he hide you from the world? and it’s stupid. but his publicist is smart, pointing out that you might get harassed online if his loyal fans find out. (to which sae begrudgingly agreed to, for the interim.)

it was fine, up to a point, but you’d never really considered how you’d feel seeing all these headlines of sae possibly being romantically linked with all these socialites and up-and-coming movie stars.

a part of you, the prideful part, is too stuck-up to ask your boyfriend for assurance. mainly because you think it’s stupid. sae constantly texts you when he’s not with you (as much as his schedule allows), and whenever he’s done for the day he goes back home and calls you if he can.

the other part of you, the lovestruck one, is afraid that maybe you can’t measure up to everyone else. that just maybe, you’re worlds apart and you’re not good enough.

usually you’d wait for sae to tell you he’s home, you’d let him rest his mind on the way back, but this time you’re impulsive and you’re dialing his number before you know it.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, picking up after just two rings. even he knows you don’t usually initiate the calls.

“um,” you stutter because you don’t actually know how to tell him you’re calling to ask for assurance. despite having been together for four years, you realise that neither of you have actually sat down and talked about feelings.

“babe, talk to me,” sae urges you, and you can hear him getting off the bus. he must have just reached his apartment complex. he must’ve been tired from an entire day of intensive bootcamp and here you are, calling him with your trivial matters.

“it’s nothing, sae, forget it.”

“wait, what—”

you hang up before he can say anything and quickly text him.

i’m feeling a little sick tonight, just going to rest early.

sae leaves you on read and you think you’ve fended him off.

you did not.

an hour later, he’s at your door, carrying all your favorite convenience store snacks and a worried expression.

“what is it?” he asks you. you’re a little too stunned to speak. sae lets himself in, placing the snacks on your dining table before he really looks at you, surveying your face. “what were you crying about?”

you suddenly feel stupid for thinking your puffy eyes wouldn’t give you away.

sae tips your chin up when you try to look down. “y/n, tell me,” and he sounds only concerned, and the guilt builds up inside you.

so you tell him—you tell him about your intrusive thoughts as he lets you lay against his chest on the couch. you tell him about your insecurities as he sits in silence and listens. you tell him that you think it’s stupid of you to think this and you’re beginning to think you’re an ass for keeping him up so late when he has training tomorrow morning.

but sae doesn’t feel that. not one bit.

“it’s not stupid,” he tells you, and if you’d been able to see his expression, you’d know that he can never look at anyone the same way he looks at you. “all those girls you’re worried about, they’re nothing compared to you.”

“really?” you sniffle, appreciating the fact that even though he’s horrible at talking emotions, he’s trying his best for you.

sae pulls some hair away from your face and you pull back to get a good look at him. “really, stupid.” you laugh and he laughs, and now you’re really feeling stupid because there’s no way sae would ever choose anyone else over you. would never dream of having any other option.

“promise?”

sae sighs, in that lovingly way he does. “yes, i promise,” and he means it—he’s never thought of being with anyone else. “i love you, don’t i?”

you nod, chuckling because yes, yes he does. and yes, you know that more than anyone. even if it has to be kept under wraps for now; there’s no cause for concern.

when you fall asleep on his chest and sae’s too cautious to wake you up, your mother wakes up to take some water and stumbles upon the sight. she greets sae with a nod and a smile, the softest one he’s seen so far.

“my daughter has good taste.”

“that’s a secret.”

sae’s only getting more and more famous as he gets older. a year later and he’s already garnering attention from everyone, with girls lining up to be a possible mrs itoshi.

you’re still unknown; hidden in the crevices, tucked between pieces of signed contracts. you’re dealing with it, it’s fine. it’s going great, only because you’ve learned to get used to it. it was either that or to call everything off, and you don’t want that.

it’s a friday night and sae’s away for another match, this time in london, and you’re watching post-game interviews on your screen while you finish your pack of chips.

they finally get to sae, throwing the normal obligatory questions like how he feels after winning the match, how he feels like being the man of the match. until they start asking personal questions like who he’d like to dedicate his win to.

he dodges the first few easily with vague answers. but then they get even more personal.

“so, itoshi, rumours have it that you’ve been in a long-term relationship now, is that true?”

you freeze up hearing the question, noticing how sae momentarily looks to the right before he rolls his eyes and turns back to the interviewer.

“maybe,” he answers, and you’re surprised. that’s the first time he’s probably not listened to his publicist.

“now who is this lucky lady?”

sae sighs, “that’s a secret.”

his interview ends there as he retreats back into the locker room, your phone vibrating almost immediately after.

one day i’m gonna show you off to everyone.

you smile as you type your response.

sure you want the whole world to know you belong to me?

you expect a retort about how it’s the other way around, but he does one better.

fuck yes.

“you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

you’re both comfortable, twenty-three and lounging in sae’s apartment, curled up in the couch, fingers intertwined and spending a lazy sunday in.

it’s right smack in the middle of his break and you’ve got him to yourself for four entire months. it’s been good, so good.

everyday you’re reminded of why you love him, of why he’s yours. the way he pulls you back against him in the mornings when you wake up. the way he says your name when he’s sleepy, the raspiness in his voice known only to you.

“hey, i’m heading out for a while,” he tells you, slipping on his slides and unlocking the door.

that’s how it usually goes; you’re still not allowed to admit to your relationship, even if sae has hinted at being in a committed relationship. what his publicist considers as minimising risks is that both of you shouldn’t be seen out in public together. that’s why you’re having fun nights out at odd hours and being romantic in private.

sae often just leaves in the middle of the day, some alone time and maybe get some groceries since you can’t let yourself be seen leaving his apartment. it’s not an ideal situation, but you’ll take it. the last thing you want to do is make his life harder.

while he’s gone, you do the chores—make the bed, defrost some chicken breasts, vacuum, maybe wash the laundry. he’s doing his best to learn the right way to do chores (because one time when you asked him to help vacuum he ended up vacuuming the bathroom too), but you find it’s easier if you just do them instead.

usually he comes back by now, takes about a half an hour because his apartment is nestled in the centre of town, surrounded by all the stores and amenities he could need. but you stare at the clock.

it’s been an hour and a half, what’s he up to?

sae doesn’t even respond when you text him. right as you’re about to call him, worried, you hear his keys jangling and the door opening.

you expected to find him carrying a huge bag of groceries with the amount of time he was gone, but he’s empty-handed and you’re starting to think maybe he was hounded by paparazzi.

“did you have trouble with some press?” you ask innocently, mop in your hand.

sae sighs, “fuck no, thank god.” he toes off his slides and tosses his keys on the dining table, taking his cap off and tousling his hair. his pretty pretty reddish brown locks.

“oh, then where’d you go?”

sae smirks at you this time, hiding something behind his back.

“what’re you up to, itoshi?”

he rolls his eyes because you only call him that when you’re afraid. “relax, baby,” he coos, inching closer to you and revealing what he’s holding.

sae’s holding up your keychain; a mini figurine of sae you got from one of the gift shops during his match. but you spot something that wasn’t there before—a key, painted black like the door to his apartment.

“sae?”

“this key’s yours.”

you blink at him, a little stupefied. “sae, did you get lost while trying to find the key copy place?”

sae clicks his tongue, annoyed. “shut up, do you want this or not?” by the way he’s all red, he did get lost.

you take the key from him, suppressing a grin. “aw thanks, now i can let myself in.”

sae sighs again, “i’m asking you to move in, stupid.”

“y-you want me to move in here?”

“yes.”

“like, you want to see my face everytime you wake up and before you go to bed?”

“yeah.”

“you want me to live here with you, together?”

“yes and if you ask anymore i’ll take it back.” because sae’s aware that you’re asking out of disbelief—he loves his alone time yet here he is, asking you to be with him whenever he’s back home. which isn’t that hard to believe for him; you’re the only one he’d ever want to be alone together with.

you giggle, “okay okay, roomie.”

sae only sighs. “you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

“i don’t want this anymore.”

it’s your fault, it’s all your fault.

sae’s publicist is at the house, screaming at the top of his lungs, and by sae’s unamused expression, he’s not having it. he’s just controlling himself so he doesn’t end up getting a lawsuit filed against him for employee abuse.

“who thinks it’s safe to go out wearing their boyfriend’s jersey, which isn’t even for sale yet by the way,” he rants, staring straight at you, “and go down and buy a birthday cake on his birthday and take it up to his apartment, all while knowing that the press is gonna be camping outside the complex?”

he makes you feel stupid.

sae steps in front of you, his broad shoulders the only thing making you feel safe from his publicist’s constant attack. “you yell at my girl one more time and you’re done,” sae threatens, managing to get his publicist to storm out of the house.

apparently, sae had a big endorsement deal all planned with the one stipulation being that he had to appear a bachelor up until the stunt was over. and now his publicist’s mad because that’s all down the drain and his commissions are gone.

“hey, you okay?” sae asks you, gently, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

you’re fine, you’ll get over it. it’s just what his publicist said that gets in your head.

it’s like you’re trying to ruin his deals.

being with a famous pro player comes with some form of caution, you know that right?

she’s just in the fucking way!

weeks pass and it’s not easier to drown out the voices. sae’s good at it, so he’s already moved past it, resumes work as per usual, assumes you’re okay too because of the multitude of times you insisted that you are.

but really? it’s fucking difficult.

if you thought you were insecure before everyone knew about you, it’s ten times worse now. while the majority of people are nice about it, saying wonderful stuff like how the two of you are so sweet and look so good together, there’s still so many people who shit on you.

wait, i thought he was with that model from that one shoot? damn, he got the short end of the stick with his gf lol

lmaooo what a downgrade from that other soccer star he was dating

@itosae you okay, dude? you blind or something?

there’s a lot more than that. a lot. some of them even found your account, messaged you directly and said some less-than-nice things.

you keep it all from sae, though. the last thing you need to do is distract him any further, especially when he has the champions’ league coming up.

“i’m fine, mom,” you say one night when your mother calls to check up on you. “i promise.”

you’re a bad daughter, keeping these from your mother who’s just concerned. she isn’t convinced, but she hangs up anyway afterwards, telling you to rest.

it’s easy for things to spiral when you keep them all to yourself. the voices in your head that belongs to sae’s disgruntled fans growing louder, drowning out the words of affection sae tells you everyday.

until one day you think you can’t take it anymore.

they’re all telling you that you’re not good enough, that you’re just a burden. his publicist is nowhere near your side, instead silently siding with the fans who berate you. sae’s oblivious to it all, you think, because he doesn’t do anything about it.

one day you’re just sitting side by side, watching a movie, sae’s arm around your shoulders, his fingers idly twirling your hair.

“sae, we need to talk.”

like the lover he is, he pauses the movie, adjusting himself to look at you. “yeah, what is it?” he’s smiling at you because he has no idea what’s coming.

and you know, you know if you tell him what you really think that it won’t work, so you put on your best game face. truth be told, you’d been building up to this moment anyway, purposely telling him you’d be busy whenever he’s back from his games just so you won’t spend time together. it was all to give him the illusion that you just weren’t interested anymore, no matter how fucked up that sounds.

“i don’t want this anymore.”

sae furrows his brows. “what? what’s this?”

you sigh, feigning frustration. “this, sae. us. i don’t want this anymore.”

“why not?”

“because i’m tired. i’m tired of dating someone who’s half here and half not, i’m tired of tolerating your stupid habits, i’m tired of being with you, sae.” you’re raising your voice, but sae doesn’t flinch. his expression doesn’t even change. you’re beginning to think you broke him, made him malfunction.

when sae doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“i want to break up.”

sae looks away from you, at the patch of rug on the floor beside him, jaw clenched. he blinks a few times before he looks back at you.

“no.”

now it’s your turn to be confused. “w-what?”

sae tilts his head to the side, concern etched in his expression. “i said no, y/n,” he repeats, sighing. he puts his forefinger under your chin, his thumb caressing the side of your face. “who are you trying to fool?”

“i-i mean what i said, sae.”

you’re in disbelief. you hate how he knows you better than anyone else, maybe better than yourself, and you’re beginning to realise no one can come close to sae for you.

“so you don’t love me anymore? don’t wanna be my girl anymore?” he asks, but it’s redundant because he knows the answers. “i love you, okay? and i’d be a shit boyfriend if i let you go like this.”

you’re speechless, so you don’t say a thing, just sit awkwardly in front of him while for the first time in his life, he resolves to being there for you.

“look, i don’t know what mean things people are saying online, but fuck them,” he tells you.

“sae, it’s not easy,” you sniffle.

“then talk to me, and stop shutting me out, you idiot,” he chastises, and you find yourself falling onto him. “i fired my publicist too, by the way. couldn’t stand him spouting shit about you even after i told him to shut the fuck up.”

you laugh at his exasperation, your chest somehow feeling lighter.

“and, do me a favor? ignore the mean comments, yeah?” sae tells you, softer this time. “i kinda don’t ever wanna lose you, so.” he has his head resting on top of yours, your fingers intertwined and your heart soaring.

until now, you’d thought it’d be easy to drive sae away. you thought if you’d been enough of a nuisance, an eyesore, that he’d just take your word for it and run, that he’d throw a fit and let you leave.

but he doesn’t.

sae stays. and he tells you to stay. because he doesn’t know much about laundry, or how to handle feelings, but what he knows is how to love you. he knows what you need and he knows what you’re thinking, even if he doesn’t necessarily tell you about it.

and sae is a bitch to the world. he’s not the friendliest to fans nor does he care about making friends or enemies.

but to you, he’s everything. he says no to either of you straying and he says yes to whatever you ask except when it doesn’t make sense and you never knew that this was the beauty of being with someone who wants you—in every sense of the word.

there’s a certain threshold to pass before you can see everything clearly. suddenly it’s like the mean voices are faded into the background, and suddenly sae’s love is all you hear, and nothing is blurred because now all you can think about is how even if the world fails you, sae never will.

“hey, sae?”

“mhm?”

“thank you.”

he smiles against your head and you can feel it. “i love you, stupid.”

and you love him; recognising your handwriting and sweeping you off your feet. you love him; braving your parents, living his dreams. you love him; protecting you and showing up at your door. you love him; bashful yearning and unwavering emotions.

so you kiss him in response, and that’s all he needs to know that you’re with him for life.

Betrayal & Regret Sentence Starters

“I told you not to get too close to me.” “From the day we met, I knew I’d hurt you eventually.” “I wish you never had trusted me.” “I told you to leave, but you didn’t. I gave you the chance!” “We were never friends. I’m so sorry.” “I did something terrible.” “It was inevitable, but I regretted it every step of the way.” “I’m mainly sorry that somewhere along the way, I started to care about you.” “I guess this is a lesson in not trusting people, right?” “How long?…Since the beginning.” “I wish I could just make a wish and become a better person.” “None if it was real, but I wish it was.” “Do you think I liked hurting you?” “I hurt people. It’s all I’m good at.” “I did it because I had to, not because I ever wanted to.” “I -did- care about you, I just had no other choice.” “You should have walked away when you had the chance.” “If we had never met, it would have saved us both some grief.” “I know it hurts, but I’m still glad we had the chance to know each other.” “Hurting you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” “I didn’t want it to be like this, but I had no control!” “I guess I’ve just never been a trustworthy person.” “I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to forgive me either.” “So? Aren’t you going to say something?” “If I tell you what I did, we’ll probably never see one another again.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?” “Why me? Of all people, why me?” “You planned this all from the beginning?” “I wanted so badly to think you were different.” “How could you lead me along like that?” “None of what we had was ever real, was it?” “So, our friendship didn’t mean anything to you?” “I would have done anything for you, but you’ve ruined all of that.” “All of the things I sacrificed for you didn’t mean a thing?” “I wish I had known when we met that you were such a vile person.” “If I could go back, I would just walk away.” “I forgive you, but I’m not going to forget what you did.” “No. I don’t accept your apology.” “After all your lies, how do I know you mean it when you say you’re sorry?” “I hope you realized what you did was cruel.” “I still care about you.” “Just tell me that your feelings towards me were genuine.” “What on earth is worth betraying someone who loves you?” “If you want to regain my trust, you have to earn it.” “Don’t just say you’re sorry. Show me that you’re sorry.”

this is stupid.

kuroo knows that better than anyone—knows that this is entirely unreasonable and entirely spur of the moment and entirely something he should not do—but you’re standing in the kitchen, covered in flour, and the words seem to fall from his lips as if they were always meant to be there.

“marry me,” he says, and he means it just as he did when he asked you yesterday as he kissed you goodbye, and just as he did the day before when you tripped down the stairs, and just as he would tomorrow if you said no.

but this time, as laughter spills from your lips, messy dough coating your cheeks, something stirs in him. something that he wouldn’t find yesterday and won’t find tomorrow and something that feels like hope, and delirium and you—and he thinks, if only for a second, that stupid isn’t even the word for it.

“you’re asking right now?” you raise a brow, motioning your fingers around your mess of a kitchen, and a silly little smile draws across his cheeks.

“i am.”

“i’m covered in flour,” you say.

and he grins, “yeah, and you should marry me.”

you shake your head, pulling your lips together, and you give him that look you always do; the ’maybe when we’re older and smarter and a little less prone to divorce’ look that he’s grown to dread.

because, yes, this is stupid—incredibly so—but he’s twenty-one and he’s pretty sure he’s never going to get much smarter than this and you share a bed every night without killing each other, so, really, why not?

he holds his hand in the air, waiting to insist on asking you again tomorrow, but you laugh—soft and bright and something that aches like home—and a little okay rolls off your lips.

“what?” his fingers stutter in front of him, voice tugging at the back of his throat, and you laugh.

“i said okay.”

“you’re kidding,” he says, a little too dumbfounded for his own good.

“now why would i do that?” you reply, a little tease catching your breath.

(oh, you must be trying to kill him now.)

“because i asked you to marry me.”

“you did.”

“and you said yes.” a breath spills from your throat—happy little laughter swirling between you.

“i did.”

and he doesn’t know whether to scream, or cry, or maybe throw up, but he does know that you just agreed to marry him, so all three sound like a solid approach.

“i’m in love with you,” he says, hands reaching for floured cheeks.

“well i would hope so.”

and he rolls his eyes, pulling you in—lips meeting yours with a clash of flour and warmth and a breath of anything but regret—and he’s sure that he’d be stupid every day of his life if it meant being with you.

Dialogue prompt

“Never in my life have I been more embarrassed to be seen with you, you imbecile.”

“Aww you love me, admit it.”

“That is highly debatable at the moment”

switch up your verbs (part one) ~

walked - hiked - moved - shuffled - toddled - sauntered - ambled - tiptoed - meandered - strolled

laughed - chortled - chuckled - giggled - snorted - guffawed - howled - snickered - shrieked

wanted - ached for - wished - craved - coveted - fancied - pined - aspired

ran - sprinted - galloped - scampered - bolted - trotted - dashed - raced - jogged

jumped - bounced - hopped - leapt - hurtled - vaulted - barged - bounded

phainon x f!reader. sfw ⏜ .𖥔 ݁₊ the moment he realizes he loves you.

Nearly half of Amphoreus would say that Phainon’s love for you bloomed slowly. A tender type of fondness that gradually became something more like affection over time. The other half, unsurprisingly so, insists that he fell hard — and fast. More similar to a sudden and clumsy descent into love that he only fell deeper and deeper into.

And then, there’s someone who thinks it’s neither.

“You still haven’t left to tell her?” Mydei asks a few feet away from him, arms crossed and body gently resting against the wall. He almost looks surprised to see him, having already expected to see the chamber vacant by now.

“Hm? Tell her what?”

He stands up straighter hearing this. “That you’re safe. She’d be the one worrying herself sick over something like this, right?”

The realization settles in his eyes within a second. He’s knocking on your door the very next — and when your eyes widen, sputtering his name in disbelief once before you’re rushing to squeeze him in a tearful embrace — another realization strikes him.

Your hearts are beside each other when he first realizes he loves you. It’s not that his love for you bloomed slowly, or that it randomly struck him in an instant. Rather, Mydei thinks it’s been there this entire time, hidden beneath the guise of fondness, the same way the sun is still present even behind a thick cloud.

“Uh oh. You’re not crying, are you?” His arms move to hold you tighter against his front before he’s rubbing up and down your back (a third realization then hits him: that it feels awfully natural to embrace each other in this way, and that he also doesn’t really like the idea of making you cry).

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you murmur into him, “of course I’d be crying. I’ve been worried sick this whole time.”

♡ CUTE LOCK SCREENS - FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

fluff, gn!reader

fushiguro megumi hasn’t let go of you for hours. the couch seems to be too comfortable to leave and you seem to be too cozy to let go of.

you’re sitting in between his legs, back against his chest as the tv is switched on with a cooking program on display. none of you could really care any less as you’re just cuddling, whispering words to one another that doesn’t have any meaning for anyone except you two.

he strokes your hand as he leans his head back against the cushion, smiling to himself just by having you this close. if anyone else would have seen him like this, he would not hear the end of it. but for now, he can only think about you and being able to hug you close to his chest.

he’s almost too lost in the moment to hear that you just received a notification on your phone, but as he glances down towards the table, he sees a picture of him with his eyes closed. it looks like he’s asleep but he can’t see more as your phone turns off as you haven’t touched it even after getting the notification. “am i your lock screen?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

your eyes widen as you didn’t even look towards your phone earlier, but he is right, he is your lock screen. it’s a picture he hasn’t seen of himself before, he was asleep when the picture was taken after all and you never dare to show the pictures you take of him as megumi never enjoys seeing himself on camera and would force you to delete the pictures.

“i-yes, yes you are. you weren’t meant to see that though,” you mumble, not wanting to look behind you to see his reaction, but he squeezes your hand even though his face is heating up, his cheeks slowly becoming pinker and pinker.

megumi scratches the back of his neck before brushing a hand through your hair. he can’t help but chuckle to himself as he looks down towards his own phone, taking it in his hands so he can switch it on and when he does, a smile spreads over your lips.

his lock screen is a picture of you smiling brightly into the camera. it’s a photo you’ve seen before, but you never expected him to put it as his lock screen so he could see it everyday.

you turn around slightly to look at him and he smiles softly before you place a kiss to his lips. he puts his hand over your cheek and looks at you fondly as the two of you pull away, just looking into each others eyes. “choose a better picture of me or i’ll take your phone and delete the picture,” he says as he kisses your lips again.