Title: All that you want but not what you need boy why p.4

Idol: Leehan (BOYNEXTDOOR)

You think about throwing out the photo. The one of him smiling at the goldfish tank. The one you tucked behind the mirror. It feels too raw now. Too much like proof of something real, and real things break. You know that. But you don’t. You keep it exactly where it is.

He doesn’t say the word until spring. You’re sitting on the curb behind the store. The sun's setting. Your apron is still on. You’re eating lukewarm kimbap from a plastic box, and he’s next to you, elbow brushing yours. “I think I’m in love with you,” he says. You choke on a piece of rice. He waits. Patient. Not dramatic. Not even looking at you when he says it. Like he’s just stating a fact. You stare straight ahead. At the dumpster. At the orange streaks in the sky. “Don’t say that,” you whisper. “Why not?” “Because it’s not fair.” He turns to you then. Really looks at you. “To who?” You don’t answer. You want to say to you, to me, to the part of me that keeps waiting for people to leave. Instead you just shake your head. “I’m not ready.” He nods once. Like he gets it. “Then I won’t say it again.” But he doesn’t leave.

You try to pull away after that. Not cruelly. Just slowly. A message you don’t answer here. A shift change you don’t mention there. A week where you “forget” to text back. He notices. You think he’ll ghost. That he’ll take the hint. But he doesn’t. He comes in on his day off. Buys fish food he doesn’t need. Waits by the counter while you scan it in silence. “You okay?” he asks. You nod. “Liar,” he says gently. You glance up. His expression is calm. Unbothered. Like he knows this part already. Like he planned for it. “I don’t know how to do this,” you admit. “Good. Me either.”

That night, you find yourself standing in front of your bathroom mirror. You look at your reflection like it belongs to someone else. Then you whisper, to no one: “Why do you even like me?” The version of you in the mirror doesn’t answer. You reach for your phone. Open the camera roll. The blurry photo of Leehan, arms flung wide, caught mid-sentence. He looks alive in it. You scroll to the photo you took of yourself. Your face is half shadowed. Eyes tired. But there's something different there. Something still standing.

A week passes. You don’t hear from him. You’re stocking the bottom shelf when you see his shoes. He crouches down, eye level with you. “Hey,” he says. “Hey.” You don’t know what else to say. So you sit there. In the aisle. With him. Quiet. Until you finally blurt it: “You should probably stop liking me.” He just raises an eyebrow. “You want me to?” You hesitate. “I don’t know.” “Then I probably won’t.”

The torn-tail clownfish dies that Friday. You find her floating before your shift even starts. You stare at the tank for too long. Long enough that the manager gently taps your shoulder. Leehan shows up later. Sees your face. Doesn’t ask. Just walks to the back, finds a net, helps you scoop her out. You bury her in the alley beside the store. No words. Just the two of you, kneeling in the dirt. You think you should say something but can’t. When you stand up, he brushes dirt from your sleeve. “We should name the next one,” he says. “Yeah.”

It doesn’t get easier all at once. But it does change. You still have bad days. Still vanish into bed for hours. Still doubt everything, especially yourself. But there are more photos now. You keep them in a shoebox under your bed. Him holding a bag of gravel. You in oversized sunglasses he dared you to wear. A Polaroid of your hands, not touching, just close. You’re not fixed. But you’re not alone, either. And for the first time in a long time, that feels like enough.

One day, months later, you come into work and find a note taped to the register. Just two words: Still here. You smile. You write back: Me too.

sweetest little thing ever, this is the kind of fic i love :(

i'm here.

tasm!peter parker x fem reader. | wc: 0.9k

warnings: none

tags: fluff, slight hurt/comfort, soft peter, he's just so lovely </3

a/n: just a little blurby blurb i wrote on the spot for my lovely pete! i've been in such a brainrot for him lately and i've been feeling pretty lonely myself so this is totally just something i wrote for my own comfort :3 hope you enjoy!

you feel lonely. you don't like it.

you've spent the better half of the day doing nothing, cycling through lying in bed to lying on the couch to lying on your carpeted floor and back again. you stare at the small heap of laundered clothes sitting in your armchair, your mind telling you that you should definitely fold them up and put them away—the same goes for the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, but you make no move to do either. if anything, you sink deeper into the plush of the carpet, if it were even possible, wishing for nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow you whole. the off-white ceiling and the steady running ceiling fan were friends welcome at first, but now you're beginning to get sick of it.

a chime somewhere off to your left takes you out of your hazy stupor, your fingers clamber mindlessly behind you till they wrap around your phone. the bright light is almost glaring when you bring it to your face.

you see bubbles in the corner where peter's typing, but then it disappears and doesn't come back. you stare at the screen for a few more minutes but peter doesn't respond anymore. a little odd; you let it linger in your thoughts for a moment but then you let it go. your best friend's not the one-liner type neither the left-on-read over text, but you know him well enough to know he means nothing ill about it. maybe he's just a little busy, he'll reply when he's able to and you won't hold anything against it.

you're back to brooding and sulking for a little while until you hear a quick but soft sequence of knocks on your door. you're not expecting any visitors soon, so you groan when you force yourself to get off the floor, sluggish in the way you pad over with your head hanging low.

you've barely opened the door a few inches when something peter-shaped comes barreling through it. messy brown hair, soft eyes, and a warm, cozy scent; all heart-achingly familiar to you as he stands in front of you. your boy. peter.

"hi," he greets you, arms wide open for you to step into. you take account of the two full plastic bags hanging from both his hands and the over-stuffed backpack slung across his shoulders; they must've been heavy, whatever the contents were, but he hugs you with ease as if they weighed nothing.

"hello, peter," you mumble into his shirt, rubbing your cheek against the soft material. his appearance was a surprise, but you're more than happy to welcome it. suddenly, your apartment doesn't seem as dull or as cold, and you realize quickly that it was his presence you were yearning for all day. of course it was, you've always felt a different kind of lonely whenever he wasn't in your space. "what're you doing here?"

peter shuffles the both of you further inside and nudges the door shut with his toe. he doesn't let you unwind your arms from around him as he puts his luggage down, shrugging off his coat and toeing off his shoes and hugging you right back. he's so warm you feel your cheeks starting to burn.

"you said you were lonely. i couldn't have that, so i came."

"but i thought you had work. and you were going to do some spidering right after."

"i did have work. i came after i clocked out and ran to the store to get some things, and i think new york can handle a night without me for now," peter's backed you both into your living room now, your leg bumps against the arm of your couch. he sits you down and wraps himself around you a little tighter, head finding home in the crook of your neck. a pleasant feeling bursts in your chest and spreads all the way down to your fingers and toes when you feel him relaxing, practically melting into you. his position couldn't have been comfortable—he’s near kneeling down on the floor, lanky legs awkwardly supporting half of the weight he isn’t leaning on you—but he doesn't seem to mind and it makes you miss him all over again.

"i missed you, bug," he beats you to saying it first, and you're glad it feels like he's read your mind. you've told him you were lonely over text, but he didn't exactly know how lonely. you'd been aching all day, aching for him, and having him near you like this now is almost enough to make you cry.

"i missed you too," you sigh, planting your face into his rumpled curls.

"'m sorry you were feeling lonely. i would've taken the day off and spent it with you if i knew." oh, how sweet. you shake your head, but you're smiling at the thought.

"it's okay, petey. i'm just glad you're here now." peter peels his face from your neck to stare at you. his gaze is sticky with affection. you don't think he's ever looked at you in a different way.

"i'm here now," he echoes, fingers squeezing at your waist. "so what'd you wanna do, sweet girl? dinner, movie marathon, board games? i could swing us if you wanna get some air. or do you just wanna lie and rot on your bed and cuddle all night?"

your cheeks pull as wide as his does. "cuddles sound nice."

he nods, serious and solemn like it’s his one sworn duty. "cuddles it is."

© mirouie ; do not copy, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

still here | fred g. weasley

The corridors of St. Mungo’s were quieter than usual, but there was still a hum of urgency in the air.

Since the war had ended, the hospital had been inundated with patients—some still recovering from physical wounds, others battling the mental scars left behind. You’d been working there for weeks now, throwing yourself into the chaos as a way to avoid the memories.

I'M SOBBING SO HARD DEADASS 😭😭😭 i haven't cried this much over a fanfic in so long, i'm so sad zsbsgabdsjdhashbzxhsj

the albatross || f.w.

summary: the albatross is the largest bird that can go years without landing; they spend their first 6 years of life flying over the ocean before coming to the land to mate. It is capable of traveling more than 10,000 miles in a single journey and circumnavigating the globe in 46 days. (he's been up in the air his whole life, but is finally able to land when he falls in love with you: alt, 4 times everyone noticed he loved you, 1 time you noticed he loved you too)

words: ~4.1k

warnings: TOOTH-ROOTTING FLUFF, CLICHE, your usual stuff yk 

a/n: i’ve had that snippet above stuck in my notes for a year now and never made anything of it and thought hey i should do something about it. so here were are. also i can’t resist doing the 3x1/4x1/5x1 trope. its so superior. ngl tho writers block hit me kinda hard with this one so i struggled to finish…sorry in advance for my writing, idk how i feel ab the way this turned out 

add yourself to my hp taglist here!

one 

You were looking forward to today’s Transfiguration lesson. 

Up until this point, McGonagall had you continue practicing nonverbal spells; having them carry over from sixth year because she wanted to emphasize their importance. In addition to that, you were set to start learning how to transfigure tortoises into trumpets. It was bound to be a loud but entertaining affair.

“I need you all to remember to focus,” she reminded at the start of class, “and please, refrain from playing your trumpets should you manage to successfully transform your tortoise—I’m looking at you, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley.”

“Aw, darn it,” you heard the twins chorus in defeat. 

“Now, you will first review what you have in your notes, then practice individually. You may begin.”

Clear Crystal Roses ⭑.ᐟ

𝓷ishimura 𝓻riki x 𝓻eader fluff ~ skinship ~ kissing ~ est. relationship ~ not proofread

𝒮ynopsis ~ bf! riki with an s/o who wears glasses. thats it. thats the post. send tweet

ℒ illy's note ~ have this draft while I, again, work on the next no one noticed update. Can you tell I didn't know how to end this drabble LMAO

────────────────── .✦

so cute!! as a glasses wearer, this is actually for me 😋😋

the law of unintended consequences. | jake sim (part one)

you are not supposed to be here.

you have zero qualifications in astrophysics, no background in quantum mechanics, and absolutely no business being inside one of the country’s top space research facilities.

but you’re just a desperate graduate looking for a job.

when you applied for an assistant role at a science institute – thinking it would involve scheduling meetings, filing paperwork, maybe even making coffee – you did not expect to end up working under a literal genius.

part two neowwwwww!! this is soooo well-written and soooo good 😣

im weak jnthe knees

HIS HAIR OHYNDNCIDDOAXSID!!!!&#&×;