#I’m so excited they’re coming back to me

[housecow]

seeing you outright mention you have death feedism tendencies is like a shotgun to the chest (positive)

i have a medical phobia that’s somehow twisted itself into death feedism ngl. also, evil feeders. 😳

someone hellbent on keeping me as fat as possible for as long as they can—knowing what cocktail of drugs keeps my heart pumping, dumbing me down and keeping me pliant with edibles hidden in my food, waking me up every few hours for feedings and funnel sessions instead of letting me sleep so the weight piles on faster than it should..

somewhere deep down i know it’s not good for me. maybe my feeder tells me about all the health problems i have while the feeding tube is in my mouth and i can barely think, but i can’t focus on what they’re saying without getting overwhelmed. if i don’t remember later, it doesn’t really matter, right?

maybe occasionally i’d “come to my senses,” during a lull in the feedings. when my feeder is busy and away for a while, after i’ve made my way through a small mountain of snacks and the mini fridge (full of shakes laced with THC to keep me docile) is just out of reach. maybe i’d try to get up, only to collapse back down because my knee problems finally caught up to me and fuck, it hurts to even try to walk. maybe then i’d finally take a look at where i am, how i’ve given up my life for someone’s (and my own, let’s be real) sick pleasure.

i’d have to deal with that realization for a while. maybe i’d start to cry, unable to handle the reality. eventually, though, my feeder would come back. they’d find me in this state and console me, getting the funnel ready because they can hear my stomach rumbling and it’s been too long since i’ve eaten. they’ll coo into my ear about how it’s all okay, how i asked for this and it’s what we both want.

they’d give my belly a shake, grasping the lowest roll in their hands and enjoying the way it makes my entire body wobble. they’d press a kiss onto the vast expanse of fat above my belly button, an area they were so excited to see expand under their care. they’d struggle a bit to lift one of my tits, eager to see how my breath hitches at the thought of their mouth on me. these are all distractions. they’ve mastered this game of manipulation and there’s no way i’d be able to find my way out of their control. their touch, the food they offer me, even those moments when i’m not high or in a haze of fullness and pleasure, were meant to further ensnare me and ensure i’m theirs for as long as i live.

my health, my life, is in my feeder’s hands. they know what’s best. as long as i keep eating, keep taking the pills they hand me, keep ignoring how hard it is to move and breathe, it will all be fine. or, that’s what i’d tell myself.

[goldsainz]

# CS55 — WELCOME HOME !

MASTERLIST !

REQUEST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ the f1 season has ended, which means carlos can finally relax with his family.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ none!

003. NOTE !

✯ dad fics are my comfort zone (and angst too) they’re so cute and fun to write, which means if you want to request them i’m gonna write them sooner rather than later 🙌

word count : 618

Carlos let out a heavy sigh as he stepped through the front door of your home in Monaco, exhaustion weighing on his shoulders.

The F1 season had finally ended. Another year of relentless travel, intense competition, and grueling races. He loved it, but right now, all he wanted was to be home. To be with you and your little boy.

Before he could even call out, the sound of tiny, fast-moving footsteps echoed through the house.

“¡Papá!” A little voice squealed.

He barely had time to brace himself before a blur of curly brown hair and chubby little arms crashed into his legs. He laughed, dropping his bags and scooping up his three-year-old son, Santiago—his Santi.

“Mi niño,” Carlos murmured, hugging him tightly. “You got even bigger while I was away, huh?”

Santi pulled back slightly, his face lit up with pure excitement. “Mamá said we have surprise for you!” he announced proudly.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, amused. “A surprise?”

That’s when you appeared in the doorway, arms crossed with a playful smile on your lips. “Welcome home, baby,” you said softly.

Carlos’ eyes softened instantly. “Cariño,”

You walked over, placing a hand on his cheek before pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “Come on,” you whispered against them. “Your welcome home treatment is waiting.”

Carlos let Santi down, who immediately grabbed his hand and started tugging him toward the living room. The first thing he noticed was the fort—pillows, blankets, and fairy lights all set up in a cozy little corner. Next to it was a tray with his favorite snacks, a bottle of wine, and a tiny juice box for Santi.

“Fort night!” Santi announced proudly, clapping his hands.

Carlos turned to you, grinning. “You built a fort?”

“Santi insisted,” you said with a shrug. “And I figured it was the best way to get you to actually rest.”

Carlos chuckled as he let himself be dragged to the couch. He sat down, pulling Santi onto his lap while you settled beside them, leaning against his side. It was warm, soft, and peaceful—the complete opposite to the chaos of an F1 season.

As Santi curled up against his chest, Carlos ran a gentle hand through his son’s hair, glancing down at him. “Did you take good care of Mamá while I was gone?”

Santi nodded seriously. “I helped cook! And I washed my hands a lot. And I gave Mamá hugs.”

Carlos shot you an amused look. “All very important responsibilities.”

“Very,” you agreed, laughing softly.

Santi suddenly sat up, his eyes wide. “Oh! Almost forgot!” He scrambled out of Carlos’s lap and waddled over to the little side table, grabbing a piece of paper before running back. “Me and Mamá made this.”

Carlos took the drawing from his tiny hands, his heart swelling as he looked at it. It was a messy but adorable crayon drawing of the three of you; Carlos in his red racing suit, you holding Santi’s hand, and a big yellow sun smiling in the sky.

“For you,” Santi said shyly.

Carlos felt a lump in his throat as he hugged Santi close, pressing a kiss to his curly hair. “This is the best gift ever, Santi. Thank you.”

Your son beamed, snuggling deeper into his arms.

You reached for Carlos’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I know how much you give all year long, amor,” you murmured. “So this weekend? No stress. No alarms. Just us taking care of you.”

Carlos exhaled deeply, feeling every last bit of exhaustion finally fade. He kissed your forehead before leaning back, Santi nestled against his chest, the soft glow of the fairy lights around you.

“Best off-season ever,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Love at first sight - Sirius Black

summary: lily's sister who goes to beauxbatons throws the party of the summer which sparks likely friendships, and an even likelier romance. wc: 2.3k

Lily came into the Great Hall the same way she always did: a determined look on her face, chin lifted up confidently, carrying overflowing papers in her arms, but something was different. Those paper she carried? They weren’t filled with head girl applications or polished assignments, no, they were party invitations.

She sat at her usual seat, and as per usual, the marauders ruffled through her papers. “Party invitations?” Whispered Sirius excitedly, as though it was something secret. Lily puffed her chest out “Y/n’s throwing a party, and encouraged me to extend the invitations to some Hogwarts students.” James cleared his throat to stop himself from choking on his tea. “I’m sorry? Your parents are letting you throw a party? The same two people who didn’t let you come over to Marlene’s tea party?” Lily grinned widely. “Well, y/n only comes home during the summers. I’m there every winter and spring break , so she kind of has a way with our parents. All she had to say was ‘this is our last summer before we graduate’ and she had them.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Marlene cut in, her face lighting up, “If this is y/n’s party, does this mean it’s going to be filled with sexy french kids?” Lily nodded happily, sharing a look with the other marauders. It was going to be the party of the year.

You and Lily were the epitome of opposites. You’d engrossed yourself in getting to know all the kids in the neighborhood and quickly because friends with your french neighbour, while Lily only befriended one — Severus. By force of being around the young boy, you’d learned his language, his language which quickly became your own. Whilst you and Lily had your own friends, no one was closer to you both than each other. You were twins, not only blood brothers but best friends. Due to your linguistic talent, you’d not only received a letter from Hogwarts on your eleventh birthday, but from Beauxbatons too. Petunia, ever so jealous of your relationship and your magic, had duped your parents into sending you away.

Petunia had ran off crying, locked in her room alone until she formed the plan of the century to break your relationship with your twin apart. “Well, they’re always together. Isn’t it better for them to learn how to live apart from each other?” And your parents had fallen for her trick. Now, you only saw each other during the summers, and your relationship was stronger than ever. But things would soon change.

The only thing Lily heard of for the rest of the day was this party. Who was she inviting? How many people would be there? “Sirius, it’s not my party. I don’t know the details. All I’ve been told is that I have these invitations to give out to people.” Sirius stared at the front of the boldly decorated invitation on the top of the pile which read in a glittery font ‘No invite, no entry!’ He ran a rough estimate in his mind and decided there had to be at least seventy invitations in the stack of papers. “Can I help give them out?”

Lily and Sirius had proudly made up a list of who to invite, or not to invite, the rest of the marauders eventually gathering around to put in their own two cents. When the invitations had been given out, Lily returned to her dorm whilst the marauders all sat in front of the black lake, soaking up the limited sun rays whilst staring at their own invitations. “This is some high end decor.” Commented Remus, turning his invitation in his hands. The fonts had been carefully chosen, and a textured disco ball sat in the centre of the page. “Yeah, according to Lily, y/n loooves to party.” Marlene added, laying on her back. “I’m excited to meet her,” started James “She sounds fun, and we barely ever hear about her from Lily.”

Sirius hummed, gears turning in his brain. “Lily said they’re nothing alike.” He recalls. It was true. You and Lily weren’t only opposites in terms of personality, but looks too. Despite being twins, you had taken all of your father’s genes while Lily took after your mother. No one ever believed you when you said you were twins, let alone siblings.

The party was nearly an entire month later. The marauders found themselves outside an ordinary muggle house, glancing at each other nervously. Had they arrived too early? Marlene glanced down at her invitation, ensuring that they were there right on time. A knock on the door and they were waiting. The door slammed open and they were met with you, a bright smile on your face and a tray in the other with an array of pink and blue jell-o shots. You weren’t the only thing that welcomed them, but the loud roar of noise from inside the house blasted them too. Remus cocked an eyebrow, thinking ‘That’s one mean silencing charm.’ “Grab a drink you guys!” You called, holding the door open with your foot as you moved to the side for them to come in. You introduced yourself over the noise, clueless to the mesmerised eyes following you.

Sirius let himself be dragged into the house by Remus, though his eyes followed you as you escaped into the backyard. Lily had been right, you weren’t nothing alike. You wore fishnets under your small denim shorts, your top exposing more than just midriff. He gulped, trying not to be caught staring at your breasts when you turned around, instead moving his gaze to the endless jewellery you wore.

Sirius heard himself gasp — apparently the french like to be early. The party in the backyard was lit, he finally noticed, with groups of people already playing beer pong, dancing to the music, and even exchanging light conversation. Lily ran to join them, trying to properly introduce you to her friends, but you were running back to the door as the bell rung once more.  Apparently everyone arrived at once, because a crowd of people suddenly flooded the living room. A mix of elegant french and fast english chatter filled the air, and Sirius saw Marlene’s jaw drop, already picking the girl she was going to spend the rest of the night flirting with. Just as Lily was about to catch you, you jumped onto the coffee table, pointing your wand to your neck with an amplification charm.

“Okay, listen up everyone!” You called out, and from within the crowd, Sirius caught your eye, his muscular arms thrown over two of his friends' shoulders. You hadn’t properly noticed him when he walked in, but now? You shook the thought out of your head. “We have about 200 wizards in this house. A house that you can tell is in a muggle neighbourhood! Now, my silencing charm may be great, but it doesn’t hide magical activity! So if we can keep the magic down to a minimum and get the party up to a maximum that would be great! Where’s my music!?” And suddenly the music roared to life. Sirius shoved to the front of the crowd, offering you a hand to help you down from the coffee table. You felt your stomach jump at his offer, the light reflecting off his silver jewellery. Instead of taking Sirius’s hand, you wrapped your arms around his neck, swinging your legs off the table. Sirius snaked his arms around your waist without missing a beat, spinning you around so you let out a joyous laugh. “And who might you be?” You asked, running your hands down his chest before letting them hang by your sides.

Sirius curtseyed, miming saluting you with a hat whilst very poshly saying “Sirius Black, at your service.” You giggled, putting both your hands on his bicep. “Hey, you met Sirius!” Lily cut in, bumping you with her hip. You met her eyes, and they glinted with mischief. She most definitely knew how attracted you were to Sirius in that moment. “Come meet the others!” She didn’t give you time to respond, instead tugging you away from the curly haired boy. You waved at him, yelling “I’ll see you later!” and then “Shut up” to Lily when you turned around. You didn’t have to look at her to know she was smiling like the cheshire cat.

James was the first to bring you into a hug, his hands respectfully patting your back. You turned to look at Lily, nodding in approval. Your introductions with Remus and Marlene were quick, witty comments given by each of them before Marlene so boldly asked “Hey, is that cute brunette over there into girls?” You laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Sweetheart, you’re going to have to be more specific, but for you? Anyone would be into girls.” Simple to say, Marlene turned bright red, and not because of the warmth the alcohol had given her.

When Sirius returned to the group, you were already gone, dancing with your friends. He threw his arms around James’s shoulders, resting his head on his best friends’s shoulder. “James, we’re going to be brothers in law!” The boy barked out a laugh, pushing Sirius away to look at him properly. “I’m in love with her James.” Remus laughed, slapping a hand on Sirius’s back. “Well what are you going to do about it buddy?” He asked, sharing an amused glance with James. “I’m going to convince her to come to Hogwarts. Wait! First, I’m going to make her fall in love with me!” Sirius frowned at his two friends’ loud laughs, muttering something like “I’ll show you.” But he didn’t have the chance to come find you in the crowd, because two pairs of hands were placed upon his shoulders, and you appeared, saying “Come dance with me.”

Sirius almost passed out at your offer, blindly following you onto the dance floor and missing the surprised look Remus and James shot each other. Apparently, you wouldn't need much convincing to fall for Sirius. Sirius took your hand, spinning you around, and you looking him up, looking around as though it would hide the bite of your lip. Sirius’s jeans were just tight enough around the crotch, and low waisted enough that every time he raised his arms too high, a sliver of his abdomen would show as his top would ride up. You spun around in Sirius’s arms, pressing your back against his chest. His hands trailed down to your hips, tugging them closer to his own. You giggled, moving your body alongside the music. Sirius groaned, whispering the lyrics in your ear, his hot breath hitting your sweaty skin.

The next time Sirius groaned, it wasn’t out of enjoyment, it was because someone had called out your name. “Viens avec nous? Just une cigarette!” (Come with us? Just one cigarette!) You had laughed at your friend’s words, shaking your head. “Non, il est trop beau, je ne veux pas le quitter!” (No, he’s so gorgeous, I don’t want to leave him!) Sirius hummed as you turned around in his arms, putting both your hands on his chest. “Come outside with me! Somewhere we can talk!” You grinned, sliding both your hands down in his, and letting him drag you outside.

You let Sirius guide you to a less crowded side of your garden, where you could people watch without being disturbed. You pushed Sirius against the wall of your backyard, watching as his eyebrows flew upwards in surprise. “So, Mr. Black, what would you like to discuss?” Sirius felt his heart surge, its pace quickening by the second, and he was sure you could feel it under your fingertips too. “Go out with me.” He heard himself blurt, and his eyes went wide at his own question. You laughed, looking around. “Aren’t we out right now?” The silence he left you with made you giggle, leaning your head forward on his chest. “I’m just joking.” Sirius shoulders slumped down in relief, hands loosely gripping your hips.

“I don’t want this to just be a little party flirt. I want to really get to know you. You… you seem cool.” You pressed yourself onto your tip toes, leaning forward to softly kiss Sirius. He sighed as you pulled away, chasing the kiss softly, but you refused to reconnect your lips. “I’d really like that.” Sirius smiled widely, pulling you flat against his body. “And hey, who knows, maybe you can show me around Hogwarts?” Sirius nodded, replying with “Yeah of- wait, what?” You straightened your back, cocking your head to the side. “Yeah, I’m moving to Hogwarts next year. Mum and dad finally had enough of me being so far away.” You interrupted yourself with your own laugh, pushing yourself off of him and looking around. “That’s what this is! My goodbye slash welcome party. Didn’t Lily tell you?” Sirius shook his head, stepping closer to you. “Well since I’ll be seeing more of you, can I properly kiss you now?”

Nodding at Sirius, you let him tug you closer to him, bringing you into a passionate kiss. You gasped at the force of his kiss, letting Sirius slide his tongue into your mouth. Moaning softly, you brought your hands up to cup Sirius’s face, pushing your body even deeper into his. “Oh my!” You pulled away from Sirius harshly, stumbling away from him. “I mean, I knew you guys had something going on, but I didn’t know it was going on.” You felt your face flush at Lily’s words, and heard Sirius cry out from behind you “Why didn’t you tell us she’s joining next year!?” James, from next to Lily, turned to face her, surprise overtaking his features. “I wanted to see how you guys got along before telling anyone!”

Remus approached the four of you, tipsily mumbling “Marlene has a roster of like three girls right now, and I just overheard some guy saying he wants to jump in the lake. I didn’t know there was a lake.” Remus stood silently, finally taking in the scene in front of him.

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

taglist:

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe

[bbyhee]

You know that feeling when you find a new story so good and realise it’s not yet completed so now you’re stuck waiting around for the next update and then you’re gonna go back and re-read all the other chapters like a maniac, yeah.. this is the one for me.

Came across this today and I AM HOOKED. Their dynamic in this is chefs kiss. The plot is so freaking good I am literally in the edge of my seat, reader is a badass and I’m so here for it. Doesn’t take anyone’s bullshit even from a fine ass like Jay (let’s be real, I would fold) the way they’re able to picture themselves on both sides and see where all the other members are coming from and not invalidate how they feel is SO GOOD. I know they’ve cracked through Jay now 🫣

Also, Sunoo causing the distraction had me DYING. Asking the guy to take it out for him so he could pee 😭 PLEASE.

So so so so excited to read what else you have in store for us, you have gained yourself a new follower ❤️

SAFE & SOUND — enhypen (m)

Navigating one year post-apocalypse, when the dead began to walk and the living proved to be no better, you decide that trust is a luxury you can no longer afford. But after a run-in with a group of seven peculiar survivors, you learn that there are bigger problems than just the undead roaming the streets. You also start to wonder if there’s more to survival than simply staying alive.

word count: as of recent update — 34.4k

genre: dystopian, post-apocalyptic survival, horror/thriller, slow burn, ANGST

status: ongoing (15/01/25 – )

warnings: depictions of graphic violence, blood, death, and loss, horror themes, descriptions of gore, killing, weaponry use, survivor guilt, trauma bonding, morally gray characters/ideologies, and basically anything and everything that comes with a zombie apocalypse. readers' discretion is advised. please click out if you have a weak heart, I MEAN IT.

disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. If any context is similar to any other stories, it's either inspired (in which credit will be given) or just a coincidence. the characters' personalities, words, actions and thoughts do not represent them in real life. any resemblance to any real life events or person, present or past, are purely coincidental. i apologise in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

notes from nat: some plot points and zombies are inspired by the walking dead franchise. also inspired by safe & sound—mother swift's soundtrack for the hunger games. actually lowkey want to kms for writing this.

taglist. open! comment, send ask or submit form to be added!

part 1 - rotten

part 2 - warmth

part 3 - whispers

part 4 - tba (releases on 01/02)

part 5 - tba

part 6 - tba

Copyright© 2025 thatfeelinwhenyou All Rights Reserved

[bqstqnbruin]

Always the Bridesmaid

I'm interrupting my regularly scheduled programming (again)(please read this series) with a fic that I came up with when I was writing a happy ending for @laurenairay, which, considering that is weird for me, I had to balance out the universe with this fic instead.

This is reader insert and for the most part the reader is gender neutral, but does present societally more feminine (mention of doing their hair and makeup, wearing a dress).

Have fun!

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, I was mean to Quinn

WC: 5528

______________

You were always told falling in love with someone would take every part of your heart and have you give it to someone else. Falling in love was supposed to be a whirlwind of joy, sadness, anxiety, excitement, fear, happiness, pain, and bliss. Your parents made you believe that loving someone meant your life would change, hopefully for the better, and you would be able to share your life with someone who wasn’t supposed to leave. 

He told you he was taking you out for dinner, to be ready when he got home. You knew you were going to one of the fancier restaurants in town, taking special care to do your hair so not a strand was out of place, do your makeup just the way you liked it, and wearing your favorite outfit that you took the time to steam the wrinkles out of so that you didn’t look like you had spent the entire day rotting on the couch, even though you did.

You knew what he was going to ask.

____________________

“What are you doing right now?” Quinn’s head pokes through your bedroom window, your boyfriend climbing into your room, trying not to laugh as he struggles to bend the right way to make it through without getting hurt.

You turn the page in your book, not bothering to look up. “I’m in the middle of taking over Poland,” you deadpan as he makes his way over to your bed, plopping himself down at your feet. “One day, you’re going to break your leg or something doing that.”

Quinn’s bedroom in your respective family’s lake house’s was opposite yours, allowing the two of you to see what the other was doing whenever the curtains were open. Since you were younger, that was your signal to each other that they could come over. You thought it would involve using the front doors, but Quinn took it as an excuse to truly act like a twelve year old, despite being older than that, and makeshift a ladder from the tree that was right there. 

He grinned at you, leaning against the wall and starting to fiddle with the fringe of the blanket sitting at the foot of your bed. “I want to go do something.”

“We haven’t even been here for seventy two hours and I’m pretty sure you’ve been active for seventy of them.”

“Please,” he whines, leaning over so that his body is parallel with yours. You try to ignore him as you attempt to focus on your book, feeling his eyes practically pierce your shin. “I want to go for a walk.”

“If you can scale the side of this house, I’m sure you can do that just fine.”

“I want company.”

“You have two brothers.”

“They’re asleep.”

“We both know if either of them wanted something from you, they would not hesitate to wake you up.” 

“But I want you to come with me.” You put your bookmark in to save your space, giving him an unimpressed look. “Please? How often do we get to do things where it’s just us?” He takes your hand in his, the calluses on his hands from using his stick in his driveway back home without his gloves surprisingly soothing to you. You roll your eyes, Quinn nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder as you can’t help but smile.

You pull him off the bed, your book all but forgotten, Quinn trailing you like a love-sick puppy.

____________________

You got ready way earlier than you needed to be, anxiously pacing around your apartment you shared with him. You could see him in every corner; it was his apartment first that you had eventually moved into. The furniture was all his, the decorations that were there were chosen by someone he paid rather than the two of you picking it out yourselves like you wanted, even the books in the bookcases weren’t ones you picked; half of them were just for show, those coffee table books on topics you didn’t care about, but looked impressive to those who didn’t know either of you. 

____________________

“This is how you decorate?”

You roll your eyes at him as he flops on your bed. As usual, Quinn was being no help to anything, but it was your first time being with each other since you left for college. “I’m going to be here for a year, why do more?”

“You don’t even have a picture of us in here.” He sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap. He kisses the top of your head, you letting your eyes flutter closed as you exhale against him, curled into his chest.

“My roommate keeps bringing guys back,” you tell him. “Four of them would see a picture of you and ask me to send you their highlights.” Quinn burst out laughing, throwing his head back and sending a shiver through your body. You missed hearing him in person, being with him and being able to touch him. 

You missed him. 

You pull away from him slightly to kiss him, his hands tightening, bunching up your shirt in his fists. Thank god your roommate was away this weekend.

“Leave room for Jesus,” one of your friends barges in, Quinn practically launching you off him. You could feel the heat rush to your face, convinced it was visible from space by the smirk on the intruder's face. “Party tonight at Kappa house.”

You exchange a look with Quinn, trying to get a read on his face before looking back at your friend. “Ok?”

“Are you two coming?”

Quinn shrugs, leaning back on your bed, the hem of his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin that made  your heart race. That stupid smirk on his face told you his answer. “Sure.” 

Your friend squeals, launching into talking about you borrowing clothing, getting ready, making sure all three of you look as fantastic as possible for what was all, apparently, your first college frat party. 

Two hours later, you were in a different room down the hall, pre-gaming, cringing as your friend thrust a shot of rosé wine into your hand, immediately following it up with raspberry vodka. You nearly gagged after downing the combination that never should have existed, looking at the disgusted look on Quinn’s face that mirrored your own. “I wish I never drank that,” he sputters out, sticking his tongue out as if the air around him would get rid of whatever that lingering taste was. 

“I’m never drinking vodka again.”

Quinn shrugs. “You never liked it much anyway.” You look at him for a second, not sure if you were unable to see the connection he was trying to make because you genuinely didn’t know, or if the horrible alcohol was somehow already fogging your brain. “Remember a few summers ago when some of our hockey friends came up to visit? They brought vodka and you hated it.”

“Was that the night I fell asleep in your bed and your parents freaked out when they found us?”

“It was the night you fell asleep in the bathtub with Jack, actually.”

You cringe, biting your bottom lip, wishing that he hadn’t brought that night up. Nothing happened between you and his brother, but it was easy to see why Quinn was annoyed at the sight of the two of you. Actually, you remember telling him nothing happened, because nothing did. So why did he get mad at it? “Why would you bring that up?” 

Quinn shrugs, turning his attention to the group of guys cheering on another as he shotgun a can of beer. “Just made me think of it.” 

____________________

He texted you that he was downstairs, ready to pick you up, just as you agreed he would do that morning. He was late coming back from practice, letting you know that he took the time to get ready at the practice facility so he wouldn’t have to come up and do it. 

You felt yourself exhale, the anxiety in your chest dissipating ever so slightly. Him being downstairs gave you more time before you had to see him.

You didn’t want to see him.

____________________

“I want to see you, though.” 

You roll your eyes, thankful that Quinn called you instead of Facetimed you, knowing he would get upset over your reaction. You were having this conversation for the fifth time now, Quinn begging you to come see him when you told him it wasn’t possible. “I have four exams this week and I have a job interview. I need to be here.” 

“Where’s the job?”

You hesitate for a second, trying to figure out if you should lie or not. “New Jersey.” Quinn doesn’t say anything. “Q?”

“I thought you were applying for jobs here?”

“I am,” you say quickly, “But I need a job after graduation, regardless of where it is. I can’t move to Vancouver if I don’t have a job, too.” 

“I can take care of both of us.” 

You let out a loud sigh, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes. “I don’t want you to have to ‘take care of me,’ Quinn, I can do it myself.” 

“That doesn’t mean you have to.”

“And what happens if we break up?” you snap. “What happens when you and I aren’t together anymore and I have nothing because you controlled everything? I’ll have no job, no experience, nothing to fall back on and I’m screwed.”

Quinn doesn’t say anything for too long, your heartbeat getting faster with every second he was silent. You didn’t know you were afraid of that. “You think we’re going to break up?” he finally asks, his voice barely audible. 

“Quinn,” you start.

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re right. You don’t want to bank on us being together forever.”

“Quinn,” you try again.

“Hey, I have to head to the arena, and you have to study. I’ll talk to you later.” 

The line goes silent before you can say anything else. You check the time, taking into account the time difference. You knew Quinn’s game-day schedule. He still had two more hours before he had to leave. 

____________________

You get downstairs, seeing your boyfriend leaning against his car. He was in a suit, one you hadn’t seen before. He bought a new one for tonight. It fit him well; you could see the curve of every part of his body, every crevice that you knew by heart, everything that was stashed in his pockets outlined. You could see the box in his pant pocket. 

He was looking down at his phone, a lock of his hair falling into his eye without even hearing you coming towards him. That sight of him used to make your heart skip a beat. 

He finally looks up, the grin on his face growing with every step you took towards him. He shoves his phone in his pocket, pulling you in for a kiss. His arms wrapped around you, his lips pressed to yours, you praying he doesn’t notice the slight sweat you felt forming over your entire body. 

He opens the car door for you, running around to get into the driver seat and take you into the city.

“You are gorgeous,” he breathes out, his hand resting on your thigh as he drives.

____________________

You stare at your phone, praying that someone would email you or call you. If you watched your phone enough, you could will them into getting back to you, right?

“You’re next,” your cousin’s hand finds your shoulder, making you jump out of your skin. “God, ok.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, putting your phone down and getting in the makeup chair. The person your cousin hired to do the bridal party makeup was talking to you about what you wanted, you barely paying attention while your mind wandered, trying not to be rude and check your notifications every time your phone screen lit up. 

“What’s with you?”

You look to your left, the makeup artist turning your head back toward them. “I’m supposed to be hearing back from that job,” you tell her.

“So why do you look like you want to throw up?”

You hesitate, a text from Quinn showing up on your screen to let you know that he was almost ready to head to the wedding venue. 

“Because it’s my dream job, but,” your voice trails off. She eyes you, the look on her face burning a hole in the side of your face. “It’s not in Vancouver.”

She nods. “So it’s not near Quinn.” 

“It’s in New Jersey.” 

“Are you going to take it if you get it?”

You exhale. The job was everything you wanted; in the field you studied in college, in a great place where you didn’t have to spend what felt like millions on rent, the people seemed great, the benefits were perfect.

It was just in the wrong country. 

“You know what? You’ve just graduated, we’re getting ready for my wedding, and your boyfriend is out there probably thinking about the day that this is the two of you, instead. Relax.” 

Before you could give an answer, it was time for you to get your hair done, your cousin being whisked away by the photographer to start getting some pictures taken. You didn’t even have an answer. 

Your phone buzzes, another text from Quinn, a new email in your inbox. 

You don’t check it, your thoughts lost in the whirlwind that became getting ready to join your cousin to walk down the aisle to who was supposed to be the love of her life. 

The bridal party ahead of you starts to enter, your cousin behind you pacing while the music continues to play. She calmed you down before when she was the one who was supposed to be anxious. What could you do now? 

You walk forward, the aisle seeming much longer than it did during the rehearsal dinner considering you were now in much higher heels, with makeup that you hoped wasn’t running down your face from the heat you felt. 

You catch Quinn sitting by himself, the smile on his face making your heart skip a beat. 

You felt yourself calm down, all the worries you had melting away as you headed toward the altar. 

You wanted to be walking toward him, to see him waiting for you, ready to tell everyone you cared about that you wanted to be together forever.

The entire wedding went by in a blur, your conscience focused entirely on you picturing yourself with Quinn standing at the altar.

When you finally get the chance to check your phone on the way to the reception, the email notification sits on your screen, unanswered. You open the app, your heart racing. 

‘Good morning, we are pleased to offer you the position…” 

____________________

The two of you fall into mundane conversation once you’re seated. He had asked for a table away from everyone, off to the side where the two of you had privacy, just as the two of you had liked it. You felt awkward being in the middle of any restaurant; he hated having people stare at him because they were sure they knew who he was and spent the entire time gaping at him once they realized who he was.

He asks about your day, about your job. 

You relay to him the events of the day, just as you did every single day the two of you had time to sit down and eat together. It was the same conversation every time, yet he seemed to love to hear about it. 

“I remember when I was excited about this job.”

“Do you still want to quit?” 

____________________

“How do we manage this?” Quinn’s voice comes through your phone, an exasperated plea. 

You hesitate, trying to figure out what to say. “I have no clue,” you admit. “Do we try long distance?”

Quinn sighs, the sound of his car starting up in the background. “We’ve been doing that for the last four years. Do we really want to keep doing it like this?”

Silence comes from you again, this conversation going exactly how you thought it would; neither of you sure what you wanted to do. 

Your dream job made you an offer that you couldn’t refuse. Your boyfriend was on the other side of the continent in another country. You couldn’t do both.

“It’s that or we aren’t together anymore.”

“Are you sure you want to take this job?” Quinn’s voice cuts you off before you can say more.

“Quinn.” 

“Is this job this important to you? Did you try to look for something near here?”

“You know that it is and you know that I did,” you reply, your tone getting defensive. “I’m supposed to be meeting my friends tonight and I still need to get ready,” you lie to him, giving yourself the best out you could. “I’ll talk to you later.” 

You pace around your apartment, pulling up the email chain with the offer letter attached. It was everything you could want. It just wasn’t close enough to the person you wanted. 

You end up falling asleep on your couch, waking up in pain from the angle you somehow thought was comfortable the night before, with someone pounding on the door to be let in. Your phone starts buzzing, your brain barely functioning to register anything other than the time, almost noon.

“I’m coming, calm down,” you rasp, hoping the banging would subside. “Quinn?”

“I can’t have this conversation with you over the phone,” he barges in, pushing past you. 

“How did you get here?” 

“I took the first flight out.” He sits down on the couch you were just asleep on, making no comment of your obviously disheveled state. “We can’t break up. I love you and I don’t want us to break up.” 

You sit down next to him. “I love you, too.”

“Do you want to break up?” he asks, panic in his voice. You study him for a second, knowing that the silence you were giving him wasn’t settling him in any way. He was clearly exhausted; his skin was more pale than normal, his hair poking in every direction possible. The bags under his eyes were darker than you had ever seen him, and you’ve seen him after he pulled an all nighter for a final, running only on energy drinks, french fries, and pure hope that he would pass the exam that morning. 

“I don’t want to,” you start, your voice trailing off. “But, Quinn, this job.”

“Marry me.”

You jolt back. “What?”

“Marry me. Don’t worry about the job. You don’t have to worry about anything. I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me.”

“Quinn,” you scoff, a laugh bubbling into your voice. “We can’t get married.”

____________________

“You could easily find a job somewhere else, though, right? If you wanted to?” he asks.

You nod. “But it was already overwhelming trying to figure everything out when I first started. Do I really want to do that again?”

____________________

“How are you settling in?” Quinn’s question made your heart ache, the first time you’re talking to him since you moved only able to be a few minutes over Facetime. “Has Jack helped you?”

You let out a laugh. “You know he’s only helped eat my food.” Quinn’s laugh matches yours, a tightness in your chest at the sound. “I miss you.”

Quinn lets out a sigh, closing his eyes. “I miss you, too.” Both of you stare at each other in silence for a moment, you looking away to pretend to continue unpacking. You were still trying to find everything in the boxes you hastily packed up, the start date your job provided you only giving you a week to pack and find a new place. Everything was in unlabelled boxes and just thrown together, meaning you were finding multiple pairs of underwear mixed into a box of dishes and books. “I wish we didn’t have to break up.”

You feel a sob creeping up your throat, the same sentiment you had being verbalized by the one person you wished didn’t feel the same. If this were a clean break, everything would be so much easier. If it were a clean break it would be easier to get over and move on. If it were a clean break, then you wouldn’t have what you were sure was a permanent pit in your stomach telling you that this was the wrong choice.

Before you can answer, someone knocks on your door. “Um, I’m gonna go. I think that’s Jack or Luke. They said they were going to come and help today.”

“Tell them to behave.”

You force a smirk through the tears that were brimming in your eyes. “We know they won’t.” You say your goodbyes, the tears finally falling down your cheeks when you open your door. “Oh, Nico,” you sniffle, Jack and Luke’s teammate standing in your doorway without the two boys who were supposed to be there. 

Nico’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong?” he takes a small step towards you, gently resting his hands on your arms. His attempt at comfort sends a shiver through your body, the attempt to hide your physical recoiling at his touch unsuccessful. It wasn’t one of disgust, it was more out of shock. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” you tell him, tugging his sleeve to pull him into your apartment. “I’m just,” you hesitate. Telling an attractive guy that you were crying over your ex seemed like a bad idea. Especially when that ex is the brother of two of this guy's closest friends. “I’m overwhelmed from unpacking.” 

Nico nods, looking around at the mess of boxes that are cluttered in what is supposed to be your living room. “When was the last time you ate?”

You stop and think, checking your phone to see it was closer to dinner than any other normal meal time. “Yesterday?”

  “Come on.” Nico holds out his hand to you, ignoring the uncertain look on your face. “Jack and Luke asked me to come because they’re doing god knows what, and we both know dealing with them when you’re hungry is going to end up with one of them dangling from that window by their sock.”

You can’t help but laugh knowing that you and Quinn have done something like that to Luke when you were younger over the summer. There’s a reason there’s now a small balcony outside Quinn’s window. The thought of you and Quinn makes your heart hurt again, the threat of tears coming back.

“Hey,” Nico’s voice goes soft, pulling you into a hug. You melt into him, the comfort of his cologne making you exhale. “Whatever it is, you’ll be ok.” 

____________________

“Remember that one wedding we went to, one of your college friends?” he reaches across the table to take your hand, his voice shaking as he abruptly changes the subject. He waits for you to nod. “Do you think about what it would be for us to get married?”

As soon as you hear the words starting to form in his mouth, you grab your water with your free hand, gulping it down to give yourself time. “Um, yeah,” you lie.

____________________

“Jack, you fucking idiot,” you scold him, grabbing the napkins and trying to get as much red wine off your white shirt as you could. It’s your fault, really. You’ve known Jack long enough to know how dangerous of a color it is to wear around him. 

“I’ll grab you something to wear,” Nico mumbles, glaring at his teammate. He heads to his room, the base of his neck turning bright red as he walks away. 

Jack looks sorry, giving you a puppy-dog pout that you were all too used to from your childhood. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter. Nico comes back with a sweatshirt, a Devils logo and the number 13 on the breast for you to throw on while you’re here. He plants a kiss on the side of your head once you pull it on, sitting down next to you. 

The rest of the night passes by, Jack spilling two more drinks all over Nico’s table that made Nico send his teammate home.

You settle in his bed, letting out an exhale as you sink into the soft mattress. Nico comes into his room, your shirt in hand. He tried his best to get the stain out.

“I think it’s a lost cause,” he tells you, tossing the shirt into his hamper. “I’ll see if the cleaners can get it out when I bring my suits in next time.” 

“I know better than to wear white around a Hughes brother,” you joke, Nico climbing in next to you and pulling you close.

You hear him sigh, tucking his arm under his head as he lays down. “Do you still miss him?”

The silence between you two is palpable. You never talk about your past with Quinn, awkwardly dancing around the subject whenever he inevitably gets brought up. You weren’t completely over him, but how could you tell your boyfriend that? You lived here, Quinn was in Vancouver. “I miss my friendship with him.”

It wasn’t totally a lie. Even before you started dating Quinn, he was your best friend. Now, you could barely talk to each other. 

“I get that,” you hear him say, not without you noticing the strangled tone in his voice.

Your phone buzzes, Jack tagging you and Nico in a story from your dinner, captioning it ‘taken moments before disaster (myself) struck.’ You can’t help by laugh, showing Nico the post. He smiles, the two of you taking in the photo. The way Nico looks at you makes your heart flutter. He loves you. You know he does. And you do love him. 

You look at the time, the late hour making you groan. “Ugh, fuck.” 

“What?”

“I’m only going to get, like, three hours of sleep if I want to make it home in time to get ready for work.”

“Why don’t you move in here?” Your head whips to him, feeling a pain in your neck, trying to hide your wince so that Nico doesn’t think you hate his idea. “I mean, you spend more time sleeping here than you do at your actual place.”

“Are you serious?”

Nico smiles, pulling you in for a kiss. “Of course.”

You mirror his smile. “Yeah.”

You eventually fall asleep, an excited feeling about a new chapter in yours and Nico’s relationship keeping you awake. 

When your alarm finally goes off, you let out a groan, Nico stirring beside you as he wakes up with you, despite not needing to. You see a text on your phone, sent not long after you went to bed.

It was from Quinn.

‘Does he at least make you happy?’

____________________

Nico is clearly nervous, his free hand rubbing against his thigh. You can feel the sweat forming on his hand in yours. “We’ve been together for how many years now? Three?” You nod. “I love you.” 

____________________

Every time Vancouver came to play in New Jersey, Ellen and Jim insist on you joining them to watch the game. They think of you like a daughter, despite the hopes of you actually joining their family dwindling down to nothing with every year that passes by with you staying in New Jersey.

Of you staying with Nico rather than Quinn. 

It doesn’t get easier any time you see Quinn. According to a drunken Jack, Quinn still loves you. You know you love Nico, but can you also still have feelings for Quinn? 

The Hughes parents weren’t there yet, you sitting alone as the two teams come out onto the ice for warmups. You see Quinn, the sight of him making your heart skip a beat, even after all these years of falling in love with Nico. He looks like he’s zoning out while skating in a circle around nothing, his stick in both his hands parallel with the ice. You know him well enough to know that this is how way of focusing, reviewing everything he could remember about the game tapes he had spent the last few days studying, as if this weren’t the third time this season he was playing against his brothers.

Against your boyfriend. 

The three brothers meet at center ice, taking a picture as they did before every game, the tradition somehow never losing its magic and never getting skipped over no matter how many meetings the two teams had. You feel your anxiety go up when Nico skates over and joins them, the smile on Nico’s face not being matched in the slightest by Quinn. 

The last time you saw Quinn, it was like you were two strangers who were forced together by accident, rather than being two people who grew up with each other, who knew everything about each other. His sentences and comments to you were short, his eyes never meeting yours.The only thing he said that really mattered to you was him telling you he wasn’t sure he would ever stop loving you.

You didn’t remember how that even came up.You had been talking about the wedding you were in, one of your friends from college getting married a few months before yours and Quinn’s last meeting. Quinn was invited, but, according to Jack, he couldn’t get himself to go once he saw you were in the wedding party. 

Your phone buzzes, a text from your boss. You can’t help but let out a groan, knowing that nothing good could come of him texting you on a Friday night when he knew you were at the game.

You skim the message, hoping that it was something that you could ignore for a few hours until you and Nico got home that night. One word catches your eye, causing you to choke on the sharp breath you took in. 

‘Vancouver’ is right there, your boss telling you that there was an opening in your company’s office there, that you would be perfect for it, that you would get a higher salary, a relocation fee, the company would take care of everything you needed to have you move to Canada.

You would be near Quinn. 

You let your boss know that you would think about it, reminding him that you were out with your friends at the game, just as you told him that morning. He sends back a simple thumbs up, as if that was a good enough reaction to letting you know that your dream job just got better. 

The Hughes finally join you right as the anthems begin, pulling you in for hugs. The game begins, your attention anywhere by the actual game. You were facing the ice, but your mind was back to your phone. During the intermissions, you’re completely anti-social, looking at the application your boss sent you that you would need to fill out. He was right, you were perfect for the job.

The game ends, you heading down with the parents to see the guys, Quinn the first one out. He talks to his parents, you awkwardly standing off to the side. 

He finally acknowledges you when his brothers come out of their locker room.

“So, how are you?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground. 

“Good. You?”

“Good. How’s the job?”

“Good,” you let out. “There’s an opening in our Vancouver office,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Quinn’s eyes light up, the smile on his face one that you hadn’t seen from him in a while. It made you smile. “Really? Are you going to take it?”

You sigh, the smile melting from your face. “I’m not sure yet. I would have to move. I would have to figure out Visa’s and everything. I would have to figure out things with,” your voice trails off, both of you knowing what you meant without you saying it. “Nico.”

Your boyfriend appears behind Quinn, a sudden panic coursing through you. You remember the idea of being away from Quinn tearing you apart inside, the thought making you sick. The idea of being away from Nico didn’t have that same effect. 

____________________

“Will you marry me?” He asks, the look on his face hopeful and nervous while he waits for your answer. 

You hesitate, knowing that he was panicking, hating that you made him feel that way. Your phone buzzes with a text from your boss before you can answer, your eyes flicking down to the screen. ‘Still interested in Vancouver?’ You hadn’t told Nico you applied for the job. You told yourself you didn’t want it that much but that it wouldn’t hurt to apply. Seeing Quinn keping coming up in your mind each time you lied to yourself, how you would be back in the same city as him. 

You still love Quinn.

“No.” 

[sugarcubeindulgent]

coming undone | pete dinunzio x f!reader

synopsis. you confront pete about his sudden distance after you say three cursed words. what follows isn't exactly what you expected or wanted.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ contents. hurt w/ no comfort. misogyny? heavy angst. swearing. insecurities. pete has issues. violence if you squint. established relationship.

The corridor smells like various cheap colognes, cigarettes, and bubblegum toothpaste. Avoiding the mess along the carpeted corridor, you’re peeling stickers off of your face and fixing your hair after the mandatory attack of affection and greetings from Pete’s larger than life family. You smell like his mother and his closest older brother now, a mix of paprika and cheap Ax body spray that smells almost too masculine.

But you don’t mind, really you can’t seem to care as you walk towards the room with the bright and cliché “DANGER! ZOMBIES AHEAD” sign.

You’re such a bundle of anxiety and nerves that you’ve chewed the inside of your cheek to shreds. Not even during arguments do you dread seeing Pete so much, but you can’t stand it anymore.

Not bothering to knock when you hear the loud rock music on the other side of the door, not as loud as the noise of the full house, you enter a bit cautiously. Immediately the heavy smell of pot hits your nose, your eyebrows twitch and you expel a breath while your eyes fall to Pete laying on top of his made bed and staring up at the ceiling. By the clean look of his room his mom must’ve forced him to clean it recently, still there are some clothes tossed about the carpet.

He’s lying on his bag, hands folded behind his messy dark hair as he seems to almost be glaring up at the Avenged Sevenfold poster on his ceiling surrounded by various other geeky, horror, rock and metal posters and magazine cut-outs. In a gray hoodie and baggy denim pants, his dirty shoes are on the bed. The music is even louder now that you’re in his room, despite knowing how much it annoys him you walk over to the stereo on his dresser beside the television playing The Mist. When the music shuts off he sighs.

“Ma I said I–” Pete immediately shuts up and his unibrow raises when his dark eyes meet yours. He blinks and you can see the shift in him as you’ve seen it for the past four days. Instead of being excited, that stupid boyish grin spreading on his acne-scarred and acne-blotted face – instead he seems to tense up and he looks away while pushing off his bed. “Uh, babe, what’re you doin’ here?”,he asks while you nervously tighten your hands at the straps of your crossbody bag.

Looking at Pete, you’re doing your best to not show your worry or burden, smiling a bit and walking over to where he sits on the edge of his bed now. “Uhm I don’t know, I wanted to see you.” You know prolonging it will only make your stomach hurt more, it’ll only make you want to chicken out of a serious conversation. So you clear your throat and gesture a hand between the two of you before it returns to the strap of your bag as if they’re two magnets. “I wanted to – no, I–I think we should talk.”

Pete immediately sours in the face and he exhales deeply with a shake of his head. “If you say you’re pregnant I’m blowin’ my brains out.”,he says. You can tell he’s joking by the way his unibrow raises and there’s a hint of a smile on his face. That’s a good sign, it makes you smile and you laugh while walking over closer a bit tentatively.

“Believe me, if that were the case I would’ve blown mine out first.”,you joke back. Pete laughs and shakes his head. Another good sign. You relax a bit while you sit down next to him. Holding your bag on your lap, your eyes flicker to him and your expression grows a bit more serious. Before you decide to voice what’s really bothering you, you decide to give him a chance to wave away your worries before the conversation has to get too serious. “You’ve just…you’ve been weird lately. Not the good kind. I know you keep telling me nothing’s wrong but…I mean…” You suddenly can’t seem to finish your sentence, only looking at him with a frown.

That smile on his face falls, he licks his lips he’s peeled the skin off of so many times they’re scabbing again. Looking along your features, his unibrow furrows and his lips part to speak but when he looks into your eyes he looks away. “Nothing’s wrong, babe. Did’ya come here to ask that shit again?”,he laughs it off but you deflate and your hands sting in his dismissive attitude. It’s always difficult to talk seriously with Pete, but this seems like it may be the most difficult.

You can’t stand it. Truly. Ripping the bandaid off, you reach out and hold his cheek to force his eyes to you. “You’ve been weird since I–” You hesitate, it hurts. But you continue ripping it off. “Since I told you I loved you.” Immediately Pete pulls from you and stands with a sharp exhale, you watch his back with a hurt in your chest but you keep your firm expression of worry and confusion.

“Christ, I–I told you I just been a bit occupied–why d’you gotta think something’s–”

“Because you’ve never acted like this with me.”,you interrupt Pete, standing up after you toss your bag onto the floor beside your sneakers. Your boyfriend furrows his unibrow tightly and he shakes his head while looking down at his sneaker rubbing into a bong water stain on the carpet. “You’ve been blowing me off and–and any time I call or message you’re always all short worded. I mean even fucking Bill has noticed how you’ve been acting. I’m not stupid, Pete.”

It seemed to have switched in your head and throat, words spilled out. They spilled out after being kept in your chest for so long, the heat of hurt in your stomach heating up the bottle of words to push out of your mouth. And Pete seems to immediately stiffen when they hit the stale air of his bedroom illuminated in warm light by a lamp in the corner.

He shakes his head, running a hand over his dark hair. “No that–that ain’t–” When he tries to deny it, it only seems to irritate and hurt you more. Your eyebrows sew up and you walk closer to him.

“A-Are – Do you think I’m gonna be mad if you don’t feel the same?”,you ask him with eyes trying to look into his but he keeps averting his gaze while clenching his jaw, his hands fisted in the pockets of his hoodie. “I-It’s okay, Pete. I know you…I know you already struggle with being sweet verbally, with being a typical boyfriend. It’s okay if you don’t love me, but I-I took the risk. You don’t need to, I didn’t expect–”

“Well why the fuck did you say it then?”,snaps Pete in a quiet manner with a toss of his hand. You blink, flinching at his harsh tone and the angry look in his face as his dark eyes meet yours. Inhaling deeply, seemingly trying to calm himself when he registers your surprise, he continues a bit less harsh yet still too sharp for you to not be hurt. “I-I–mean we had ‘a good thing going, you know? Then what?”,he scoffs and grins in a humorless way,”We’re just smokin’ at the fuckin’ park and you tell me that shit?”

Frowning at him, you blink as a stinging sensation takes your eyes and a lump begins to form in your throat. You didn’t want this. Fuck. No. You’re not going to cry. Inhaling shakily, your eyebrows furrow as hurt and anger war in your entire body that’s since grown to feel like T.V static.

“You don’t have to be a fucking jerk about it, Pete.”,you snap at him, your arms cross firmly over your chest and your hands grip your biceps tightly. You shake your head while looking into his angry expression with your own, his eyes flicker away after a moment but you continue. “I-I’m sorry if I made things weird or – or if I made you feel any pressure but I was just expressing myself. Why are you so mad? I don’t get it–”

Once more, he interrupts you, angry in a way that confuses and hurts you. “Because I didn’t wanna hear that bullshit!”,he shouts this time. You inhale sharply, holding your breath while looking into his eyes. Pete looks along your features then he exhales hotly, nostrils flaring a bit. “The last thing I wanted was for you to tell me you fuckin’–” His jaw clenches when he shuts up immediately and you look at him while you feel tears brim your lashline. “You don’t. Alright? I know you don’t, so I can’t figure out why the fuck you said it.”

Your eyes widen and you reach out, your hand gently cups his cheek. “What? You think I said that just to fucking say it? Pete, I love–” Pete grabs your wrist tightly, pulling it off his face as if you burn him. His grip is tight, the kind of tight grip he uses when you’re both fooling around. Not with anger in his face.

“Shut the fuck up.”,he hisses, roughly shoving you back by the arm,”Get out. I don’t wanna talk about this shit anymore.”

Pete passes you and you inhale shakily, warm tears roll down your cheeks to gather beneath your chin and you quickly wipe them away. You’re so confused. Is he mad because he doesn’t believe you? You turn around and he’s holding out your bag to you, you look at his face, his dark eyes burning down into the carpet.

You take your bag and set it on the carpet before you grab his hand and step closer to him. “Pete, I promise I’m–I’m not trying to trick you. I’m not lying. I love you.”,you breathe out, holding his hand between yours. Pete looks into your face, his lips pressing thin and his dark eyes flickering between yours. For a moment, he almost seems to ease up when he follows a tear that escapes down your cheek. But then he immediately tenses up and yanks his hand away.

Silently, he walks over to his stereo. You hurt and you watch him. When the loud music comes on again, you’re unsure what to do to convince him. Regardless of if he believes you or not your arm hurts and he’s being a dickhead. You’re angry and hurt and maybe even guilty and yet he seems to only be angry. Why are you suffering more than him? You were the honest one. Stomping over to his dresser, you slam your hand on the button and the music stops.

“You–”

“Why do you believe I don’t love you?”,you look at Pete.

He looks at you incredulous. Then he slams his hand on the stereo. Loud music deafens when you slam your hand against it.

“Answer me. You don’t get to be an asshole because you can’t handle what I say.”,you breathe out,”I love you. I deserve to know why you don’t believe me.”

Pete flinches at those three words. He looks at the stereo, his jaw tenses and his expression continues to harden but soften into feelings too quick in passing for you to identify. His mouth opens, then it shuts. Then he shakes his head and looks you in the eye. “Because I don’t love you, that’s why. Is that what you wanted, huh?”,he asks, raising his unibrow at you.

Your lips part and your heart feels like it’s been punched. You blink and Pete tilts his head, his jaw clenching and his adam’s apple bobbing hard with a rough swallow. Pressing your lips, you shake your head. “You’re being mean.”,you simply breathe, like you’re a child. Pete scoffs and he shakes his head, getting in your face.

“What? You said you wouldn’t care if I didn’t, right? Well I don’t – do you care? Because you look like you’re gonna fuckin’ cry.”,he says harshly, practically sneering,”Is it not what you wanted to hear? Huh?” Of course you wouldn’t care if he didn’t feel the same because at least you love him. But he didn’t have to act this way, to make you hurt and to be so blunt about it. To hurt you and not care as he got in your face.

You want to say something, insult him and argue back. But you can’t. You feel awful and pathetic because you simply can’t say anything. Instead, you smack your hand on the stereo and you walk over to your bag. Loud music blasts in your ears and you snatch up your bag. Tugging it on your shoulder, you reach into your bag and roughly toss Pete’s portable CD player at the wall. “What the fuck!”,comes muffled under the music. You glare at Pete and you look down.

Snatching off the Bride of Frankenstein keychain from your zipper, you toss it at his face. He winces and you stomp over to the door. It slams behind you and you hear it open again when you’re walking down the corridor.

“Yeah, yeah!”,Pete shouts,”You’re just a fuckin’ liar like every other pair ‘a tits. Well I don’t need that shit, I don’t need you! Fuck you!” His voice is distant by the time you’re rushing down the steps, wiping at your cheeks furiously.

You feel like a fucking idiot.

[kenyuukissme]

three points ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ w/ rensuke kunigami

pairing :: kunigami x gn!reader

warnings :: not proofread ; pre wc!kuni ; possibly ooc kuni ; swearing ; self indulgent ; petnames ("baby") ; shitty ending

wc :: 891

three goals. that’s all he needed to get his phone back.

okay, look. teenagers and their phones, we all know they’re here for soccer but he needs to keep in touch with you. and this last goal, he’ll take it even if it means he has to steal it from isagi.

well, its not like isagi has what he does.

a loving partner, waiting back at home. he promised to keep in touch as much as he could, so winning back his phone is the first step.

just thirty seconds of this match left, and kunigami can steal this goal. fuck isagi, this is his game now. a swift shift and before isagi, the team and even he knows it, he’s scored that last goal.

wait. what?

“GOOAALLLLL!!!!” the team shouts in unison, jumping onto kunigami. everything they say following is a blur. all he can focus is on hearing your voice tonight, reading your texts and seeing your face.

after the match, the usual unwinding and whatnot is finished and kunigami finds himself waiting in front of ego’s office. he’s replayed this moment in his head so many times, he just needs to exchange his goals for his phone. its not difficult. so why is he hesitating?

no. it’s for you. he can’t hesitate. he needs you in a way that threatens his will to become the world’s best striker.

he knocks on ego’s office door. “excuse me. may i exchange my goals for my phone?” he awkwardly asks, and ego deadpans. the tall man sighs deeply, rolling his eyes. “you kids come for soccer and your damn phones.” he mutters, throwing kunigami his phone. kunigami bows slightly, turning to leave as fast as he can.

to talk to you, and to get away from that freak… you can choose which was more urgent in that moment.

he hurries back to his room, but he quickly notices his roommates are… well, in the room. and they’re immediately teasing him about talking to his partner right away. so, to avoid their crazy comments, he decides to find a practice field that isn’t being used.

in the corner of the large practice field, he takes a seat against the tall wall and unlocks his phone.

oh, how he’s waited for this moment. he opens your and his chat on messages, looking at the messages you sent him for every day since this moment. you promised to send him them, even if lack of reply was discouraging. even if neither of you knew when he’d be able to read and answer them. for many reasons, really.

but losing feelings for each other wasn’t one.

he spends a dedicated amount of time to reading through each of your messages heart reacting and decides to leave replying for now. he presses the voice call button, he wants to cherish the moment properly.

he waits. one ring. two rings. three rings. fo-

“ren!!” your voice breaks the anxiety-inducing rings. and god, how he missed it.

“[name].” his voice almost smiles as much as his lips. after a few moments of back and forth “is this real??” and giggling with tears at the brink of your eyes, you finally calm down. it seems you were with your friends at the moment he called, so you excuse yourself into another room.

“how’ve you been? i missed you so much.” you can barely form a proper sentence, the rush and excitement turning into biter sweetness. or rather, melancholy.

“i’ve been good. would’ve been better i got to bring you with me.” he pauses, smiling to himself, almost in a love sick way. “and i know, baby. i know. i missed you too.”

hearing him talk, and not lowering his voice in a bashful way. hearing him proudly admit to you that he missed you.

the tears came on their own.

he hears your breath catch in your throat, like before you cry. and that’s when he presses the button that changes voice call to a video call.

“don’t cry, i’m here now.” you accept the video call switch, wiping the tears that threaten to fall, even before they fall. but seeing his face — after long hours, days, weeks, even months — of yearning to even hear his voice.

it does something, y’know?

with a singular expression he makes, along with a very subtle head tilt… its almost as if he was telling you to let it out. let yourself cry, let yourself feel what you’ve held back since the moment he left. let yourself cry into the comfort of his charming little smile, even if its a little sad.

so you spend the next few minutes crying, words mixed with sobs and jumbled up with hiccups. watching you cry would’ve made him cry, but you… you’re his precious lover. he wouldn’t make you watch him cry. so he whispers sweet nothings, despite being alone in such a big field.

well, not alone, ‘cause you’re with him. on call, in spirit. may his phone be taken away, that’s unknown. but he knows regardless of if you can talk daily, hourly or even once a month.

you’ll forever be in his heart.

a/n :: kuni my love <3 first time writing for him, sorry if its ooc and the ending's shit 😞

taglist :: open [ask to be added]

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

© kenyuukissme 2025

{do not copy, translate, steal, modify or repost without permission}

[lovesodakid]

shadows of the dark

matt sturniolo x reader

1 3

summary : growing up in the ‘middle of nowhere’ small town in lochcliff, colorado, stories were heard of multiple strange disappearances, murders, animal attacks, and more. when you were younger, you never paid attention to that stuff. now at the age of 17 it’s all you ever hear about. what happens when you realize those ‘stories’ you heard growing up, may not just be scary fairytales people tell their kids.

warning ⚠️ : contains mature themes, smut, gore (nothing insane), angst, etc. this warning is for all chapters.

(this does take some inspiration from tvd!)

chapter 2 : history & new kids

the sound of loud clapping causing the commotion of the students to quiet down as the assuming new teacher strides into the classroom. her black heels clicking across the white tiled floor below her.

“good morning everyone! i’m mrs. johnson, im so excited to work with you guys this year and welcome to your junior year of high school!” she exclaims enthusiastically.

“now why don’t we start with-”

she’s cut off by the sound of the classroom door opening, the hinges making an ear-raping scream cutting through the silence of the enclosed room.

“is this the language arts room?” the husky voice questions.

my eyes trail from mrs. johnson over towards the mysterious man in the doorway. starting at his pants, which are a pair of blue denim baggy jeans, his black shirt being halfway covered by the black leather jacket he’s paired it with.

until i catch a glimpse of his face. the same face we passed earlier this morning in the car. it’s almost as if he can sense me looking at him when that very second, his eyes snap over to mine. his blue piercing irises gazing into mine. his stare so distinct, i feel as though he can read every thought in my brain. i swear i even see his lips curving into a small smirk.

“yes! welcome! take a seat wherever you want, what’s your name first?” mrs. johnson’s voice interrupting whatever hypnotic state i was just in.

my eyes immediately shooting down to my desk in front of me, nervously picking at the wood.

“matthew. matthew sturniolo.” i hear his biker boots clatter against the floor, coming right beside me until he comes to a short lived halt. my body recognizing the feeling of his stare on the top of my head, until he continues his stride to a few seats behind me to my right.

“sturniolo?” she questions. “sturniolo as in…carmilla sturniolo?”

the sound of rough chuckles coming from behind me, causing my nerves to shiver. i’m not quite sure what kind of effect he has over myself, but i don’t know if i like it either. “yes ma’am.”

the town of lochcliff has its ‘respected’ family names. the blackwell’s, the whitlocks, steven’s, and more. they’re known to have helped in the founding of the town around 150 years ago. the sturniolo’s being one of those family’s. although, it has been rumored that 20 years ago, the last of the sturniolo bloodline was brutally murdered on his way to work one morning. but his body was never found, hence - rumors.

carmilla sturniolo was the first woman to ever be apart of the city hall’s council. back then, it wasn’t as easily as it is today for a woman to get a job like that. carmilla’s name has been passed around from mouth to mouth for years. her, going down in the towns historical records.

she was also rumored to have been murdered. or attacked by animals some say. no one really knows the full truth on what happened to carmilla sturniolo on that fateful night of october 21st 1898.

“well, it is so lovely to meet you matthew. i hope you will enjoy my class.” mrs. johnson says as she gives him a warm smile. “okay now, back to what you can expect this year.”

-

“have you seen that christopher sturniolo guy?” jayde’s enthusiasm laced voice asks from beside me.

the rest of first period, and then the whole of my second and third periods went by in a blur. as jayde and i now sit in our free period in her car in the schools parking lot, debriefing on how our days have been so far.

“no, his name is matthew.” i correct her as i take a handful of cheez itz i got out of the vending machine.

she quickly shakes her head back and forth. “no his name is christopher. he’s new. he’s a total babe and snack. dark brown hair, bright blue eyes. literally the epitome of my type.” she exhales.

my eyebrows crease i stare at her, clear confusion taking over my features.

“there’s a guy who looks exactly the way you described in my first period. and his last name is sturniolo, but his name is matthew.”

she begins…giggling?

“oh my god! what if they’re twins!” she shoots up excitedly.

“don’t you think it’s a little strange that these two guys - whom have the same last name that no one has even heard of anyone having in years, just..come out of nowhere?” i question her.

i watch her shrug, a strand of her black hair falling off of her shoulder as she does so. “not really. probably just moved away forever ago and just decided not to tell anyone, then move back.”

i slowly nod my head in agreement. “yeah maybe.” i grab another handful of the cheesy and salty snack, throwing them into my mouth.

“oh my god! look! there he is!” she shouts as she points to the entrance of the building.

i watch as a guy who looks eerily similar to matthew walking out. but instead of wearing blue jeans with a leather jacket - he’s wearing a plain white shirt with grey sweatpants and a beanie on.

i squint my eyes trying to get a better look at him, same facial features and all. minuscule differences here and there but overall, they look exactly alike.

i continue my staring at the strange man until i see the big blue doors open again behind him, this time, 2 more boys joining him on the sidewalk right outside the building.

matthew.

and another guy who looks like them?

“y/n! what the fuck? there’s three of them!” jayde’s voice screaming happily as she watches the same scene in front of us.

three?

a/n : sorry this is kind of short! i wanted to hurry and write the second part for funsies and cause im bored. hope this is okay😭 lmk if you like it !!

[quintessenceofdust88]

fuck it friday

(it hasn't been Friday for me for the last 25 minutes but let's pretend I'm on time, can we? thank youu also I gotta be honest that I almost didn't post this one cause imposter syndrome hit hard, but then my angel @laundryandtaxesworld helped me out and I decided to give it a shot. So thank you Viaaa, ily ♥♥♥) Tagged by @911coded and @unhingedangstaddict, thank you lovelies! ♥ This is the beginning of priest Tommy AU, sooo I hope you'll like it! I'm excited to see where it goes:

Buck loves LA, but he hates days like this one, where it feels like the whole city is a greenhouse. The heat is sticky and humid, clinging to his skin and making him sweat in his uniform. All he wants is a cold shower and a minute to breathe. And, okay, maybe a cold beer wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Instead, he’s crammed in the back of the 118 fire engine, heading to San Pedro for one more call. And Buck loves his job, he does, but they’ve been on back-to-back calls for the last three hours. 

“Christ, I feel like I’m gonna melt” He whines, and Eddie smirks at him from the front seat (he had won rock paper scissors fair and square, the bastard), pushing his sunglasses up his nose. His Texas-raised ass does just fine with this horrible weather, and Buck hates him for it. 

“Yeah? Better start working hard to go to heaven then, cause you would not survive the eternal flames” He quips. Buck crosses his arms, too stubborn to let himself be influenced by the collective chuckle.

“I already work hard to go to heaven, don’t I? Saving lives and stuff” He says with a shrug, absolutely not pouting, thank you very much.. 

“I don’t know, Buckaroo.” Chim says, a playful smirk on his face. “When was the last time you set foot in a church? That’s supposed to be a big deal for the guy upstairs”

“Well, if that’s the dealbreaker, we’re all screwed” Hen says dryly, even though she doesn’t look particularly concerned. “Except for Cap, of course.”

Bobby chuckles from the driver’s seat, taking a turn to the right and stopping the truck. 

“Well, here’s your chance to make up for it” He says, and Buck comes down from the engine to find out they pulled up to a small stone-walled church. 

The doors are open, and most people are outside or at the very back of the church, chatting agitatedly, their eyes widened as most people when they find themselves witnesses to a 911-level emergency. It’s a sizable crowd, he thinks, considering it’s a Wednesday afternoon (which, as far as his Episcopalian-raised knowledge goes, is not a church day). 

As they rush up the church’s steps, he notices half of the crowd are the usual elderly ladies, but half of it are people around their 20s and 30s, and a few teens, which surprises Buck. They’re all whispering fiercely to each other and keep stealing glances inside the church. One of the ladies approaches them, relief clear in her eyes. 

“Oh, thank God you got here so fast!” She says, wringing her hands together. “It’s Mrs. Bellini, you see, she has low blood pressure, and this weather…”

“Ma’am” Bobby cuts her off as gently as possible. “Were you the one who called 911?”

“No, it was father Kinard.” She clarifies, leading them inside. “He’s already tended to her forehead, but he didn’t want to risk moving her until you arrived to check her situation.”

The church is relatively small, but the ceiling is high, and their footsteps echo against the walls. It’s a lot cooler inside, and Buck lets out an involuntary sigh of relief as they get out of the intense sunlight.

The woman leads them to one of the front pews, where they find another lady who’s sitting down, looking pale and sheepish. There's a white gaze pressed against her forehead, and a small red stain seems to have formed against it. Sitting by her side is a man dressed in white robes, a green-colored long scarf-looking thingy around his neck. 

He stands up when they approach, and Buck’s taken aback, because he’s ridiculously tall; a little taller than Buck, even, and that’s no easy feat. His features are sharp, a jawbone that could probably cut through glass, and he has a cleft on his chin (why did Buck notice that, he wonders? Is it weird to notice a priest has a cleft?). He’s looking at them with widened blue eyes that are filled with concern.

--

Np (like at all bc I know it's Saturday or almost SAturday for most of y'all) tagging @laundryandtaxesworld @bidisasterevankinard @typicalopposite @mmso-notlikethat @fairytalegonewronga03 @rosyhoneydew and whoever else would like to join!!

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

I saw your post about still wanting requests, so here is one. Sirius Black and fem!reader with the prompt 7. “Have some fun for once!” and angst. They’re out of Hogwarts already. Reader is introverted and scared of what others will think if she does something that puts attention on her, even the smallest things. When Sirius and their other friends want to do something one day, she’s inclined to say no to. And then he says the prompt and it actually hurts her because she knows that she should be more fun (of course she doesn’t need to be, but she feels like it). And then fluff. They’re not a couple yet, but Sirius is in love with her and she also with him

Fun

sirius black x reader - fun

word count: 1.5k

summary: y/n already struggles with feeling like she isn’t/can’t have fun so when a certain someone pressures her, she breaks down

warnings: allusions to social anxiety

a/n: since i have chronic social anxiety and depression…this was based on an interaction i’ve had with a past bf before i had meds lol

     The flat was dimly lit when Sirius Black knocked on the door. He rocked on his heels, hands in his pockets, trying to shake the jittery excitement coursing through him. Sirius wasn’t one for nerves—confidence practically radiated off him—but this was different. It wasn’t just another party tonight. It was an opportunity to convince her to step out of her comfort zone.

     Y/N opened the door after a moment, her eyes widening at the sight of him. She looked as she always did—quietly beautiful, her gaze gentle but guarded, like she wasn’t sure if she should invite him in or continue standing in the doorway.

     “Evening,” Sirius said, his trademark grin spreading across his face. He leaned casually against the doorframe, though inside, his heart was doing an impatient drumbeat.

     “Sirius,” Y/N greeted softly, her voice just above a whisper. “What… brings you here?”

     “Well, I was just in the neighborhood,” Sirius began, clearly lying, “and I thought, you know, maybe I’d check in on my favorite recluse.”

     Her lips twitched at the corners—a tiny smile, but one that quickly faded as she stepped aside to let him in. Sirius strode into the small, cozy flat, glancing around at the stacks of books, the neatly arranged furniture, and the single cup of tea abandoned on the coffee table. It was so her. Warm, quiet, and comforting.

     “Let me guess,” he said, turning to face her. “You were planning to spend the night with that thrilling book, weren’t you?” He gestured toward the novel sitting on the armrest of the couch.

     Y/N crossed her arms, her gaze flickering to the book and then back to him. “Is that a problem?”

     “Not at all,” Sirius replied, though his grin widened. “But I’ve got a better idea.”

     She tilted her head, already wary. “What kind of idea?”

     “A party.”

     Her face fell immediately. “Oh.”

     “Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that,” Sirius said, stepping closer to her. “It’s going to be fun. James and Remus are coming, and so’s Lily. You’ll know people there. It’s not like I’m dragging you to some den of strangers.”

     Y/N hesitated, her fingers twisting the hem of her sweater. “I don’t know, Sirius…”

     “You don’t know?” He raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “What’s there to not know? You get dressed up, we go there, we have a laugh, and you get to see just how terrible James is at dancing. It’s a win-win!”

     “I just…” she started, then trailed off, her words faltering. “I’m not really good at… parties. Or crowds. Or… people.”

     Sirius sighed, though not unkindly. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and looked at her with those piercing gray eyes. “Y/N, you’re brilliant. You know that, right? You’re smart, you’re kind, and I swear you’re funny when you let yourself relax.”

     She bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I just don’t think tonight’s the right night.”

     “Why not?”

     “I just…” Y/N fumbled for an excuse, her mind racing. “I’m tired. And I’ve got work in the morning. And—”

     “And nothing,” Sirius interrupted, his grin returning. “You’re always tired, you always have work, and yet you somehow manage to keep a perfectly tidy flat and read a hundred books a year. You’ve got time for this.”

     “Sirius—”

     “Have some fun for once!” he teased, throwing his hands up. “You can’t stay cooped up in here forever, you know.”

     That did it.

     The teasing lilt in his voice, the casual way he brushed off her hesitations—it hit a nerve she hadn’t realized was so raw. Y/N blinked, her throat tightening as her chest grew heavy. I’m trying, she thought, though the words didn’t come out right away.

     Her hands clenched at her sides as tears stung the corners of her eyes. She hated this. Hated how easily her emotions betrayed her. Hated how hard it was to just… be normal.

     Sirius noticed the shift immediately. His teasing smirk faded as he took a step closer to her, concern etched across his face.

     “Y/N?”

     “I’m trying,” she managed to say, her voice cracking slightly. She quickly turned her head, brushing away the tears that had escaped before he could see them.

     “Woah, woah—hey.” Sirius’s voice softened as he reached for her, his hands landing gently on her shoulders. “I was just joking. I didn’t mean it like that.”

     She didn’t respond, keeping her gaze fixed somewhere over his shoulder.

     “You’re fun,” he said earnestly, his grip tightening just slightly. “You know that, right? You’re so much fun.”

     Before she could protest, he pulled her into a hug.

     Sirius held her tightly, his arms wrapping around her in a comforting embrace. He felt her shoulders tremble, the weight of her sobs pressing against him, and he wished he could take it all away—every ounce of self-doubt, every bit of pain that made her feel so small.

     "I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity. "I didn’t mean to upset you. I shouldn’t have said that."

     His hand moved to the back of her head, gently holding her there as he whispered the words over and over again. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m really sorry."

     Y/N didn’t speak at first, the tears flowing freely now, staining his shirt. She wasn’t sure why the sudden vulnerability felt so heavy—why his words, meant in jest, had caused such an emotional response. Maybe it was the fact that she already felt invisible in the world, like she was always the one standing in the background, watching others live their lives. And now here was Sirius, someone she admired and trusted, someone who had been nothing but kind to her, inadvertently reminding her that she couldn’t just be a part of it all.

     The gentle, rhythmic pressure of his hand on her back was the only thing that kept her grounded as she let out a shaky breath. It felt both comforting and overwhelming, and as much as she wanted to pull away, part of her needed the closeness.

     Sirius pulled back just a little, enough to see her face. His hands gently cupped her cheeks, his thumb swiping across the dampness beneath her eyes. His gaze softened as he wiped the tears away, his heart aching at the sight of her so fragile, so open in front of him.

     "Hey," he whispered, his voice almost a soft rasp. "You don’t have to cry."

     She shook her head, not trusting her voice yet. Sirius gave her a small, understanding smile and let his hand fall to his side.

    "You know we don’t have to go to that party, right?" he said quietly, looking at her with such earnestness that she felt the weight of his words. "If you don’t want to, we won’t."

     Y/N glanced up at him, her eyes still red from crying but clearer now, as though she was coming back to herself. There was something in his gaze, something soft and patient, that made her believe him. He wouldn’t force her to go. He wouldn’t push her to do anything she didn’t want to do.

     She took a steadying breath, then nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke. "I... I want you to stay here. If you’re okay with that."

    Sirius’s heart swelled at her words, a warm feeling flooding through him. He smiled, a genuine, relieved smile that lit up his face. He reached up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

     "I would love that," he said, his voice full of affection. "I’ll stay as long as you want. We can do whatever you feel like doing—no crowds, no parties, just us."

     She met his gaze, a small but grateful smile tugging at her lips, and for the first time that evening, she felt a sense of calm settle over her.

     Sirius stepped back. "So, what do you say? You still up for tea and a good book, or is there something else you’d rather do?"

     Y/N wiped her face with the back of her hand, chuckling softly despite herself. "Tea sounds perfect."

     "Tea it is," Sirius said, his voice light and teasing once more, though the care behind it was unmistakable.

     As they moved toward the kitchen, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a weight lift off her shoulders. It wasn’t just about the party or the social expectations. It was about being seen, about having someone there who genuinely cared.

     Sirius may have teased her about stepping out of her comfort zone, but in that moment, she felt like she was exactly where she needed to be—with him, in her space, free to be herself.

[flowerchild28]

On tour

Louis Tomlinson imagine

Warnings: fluff

1.4k

"I'm so sorry I haven’t posted much lately, but I have a few stories lined up that I'll be sharing this week! I also finally have some time to work on your requests, so feel free to send them in. For now, here's the story based on the survey I posted a few months ago—I hope you enjoy it!"

The lights of Paris sparkled like a sea of fireflies beneath the night sky as the Faith in the Future Tour made its grand stop in the City of Light. The Eiffel Tower stood tall in the distance, its golden glow casting a warm halo over the Seine. Louis Tomlinson’s tour bus had just pulled up to the Accor Arena, and the hum of the crowd was already palpable even from backstage. Louis loved this part of the journey—the pre-show buzz, the adrenaline, and the thought that tonight, he’d leave another piece of himself on stage.

By his side, as she had been throughout the entire tour, was Y/N. She wasn’t just Louis’s partner; she was his anchor, his best friend, and the person who brought a calm sense of normalcy to the often chaotic world of touring. Y/N had been an integral part of the journey, not just as emotional support but as someone who genuinely loved experiencing every moment with him.

The two had arrived in Paris late the night before, exhausted but exhilarated. Louis had insisted on a quick walk along the Seine before calling it a night, despite Y/N’s playful complaints about her sore feet. He had pulled her close, kissed her cheek, and said, “You’ll thank me for this tomorrow.”

Now, backstage at the Accor Arena, Y/N sat cross-legged on the couch in Louis’s dressing room, fiddling with her camera. She loved documenting the tour—not for social media or any grand purpose, but for the little scrapbook she’d started when the tour began. It was filled with candid shots of Louis, the crew, the fans, and the breathtaking cities they visited. Tonight, she planned to capture the magic of Paris.

Louis walked in, already dressed in his tour outfit: a sleek black jacket and his signature trousers. His eyes lit up when he saw her.

“Still playing paparazzi, are you?” he teased, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

“Someone has to document this chaos,” Y/N replied with a grin, tilting the camera to snap a picture of him mid-smirk. “And you look too good not to capture.”

He chuckled, sitting beside her. “You ready for tonight?”

Y/N nodded, her excitement matching his. She had been to every show so far, and yet, each one felt like the first. “Are you ready?” she asked, nudging him gently.

“Always,” Louis replied, his voice steady with determination. “But tonight… tonight feels special. Paris always does.”

Just then, Oli, Louis’s best friend and trusted confidant, popped his head into the dressing room. “You two lovebirds ready? Max says five minutes till go-time. The crowd’s insane tonight.”

Louis grinned. “We’re ready. And don’t call us lovebirds.”

Oli laughed, stepping inside. “Fine. Dynamic duo, then. Seriously, though, Y/N, how are you holding up? It’s got to be exhausting keeping up with this one.”

“Hey!” Louis protested, feigning offense.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “I’m doing fine. Louis makes it easy… most of the time.” She shot him a teasing look.

“I heard that,” Louis said, smirking. He turned to Oli. “What about you? You’ve been running around like mad today.”

“Yeah, but it’s worth it,” Oli replied. “The setup looks amazing, and the crowd… mate, they’re already singing your name.”

Louis’s expression softened. “They never fail to amaze me. Honestly, it’s them that keep me going.”

Oli nodded. “Well, let’s make sure they get a show they’ll never forget. See you out there.”

As Oli left, Louis turned back to Y/N, giving her hand a squeeze. “Come on. Let’s make some memories.”

The arena was electric. Thousands of fans waved their phones in the air, their screens illuminating the space like a galaxy of stars. Y/N stood at the side of the stage, her camera in hand, as Louis stepped into the spotlight. The roar of the crowd was deafening, a wave of love and excitement crashing over him.

The opening chords of “The Greatest” filled the air, and Louis launched into the performance with all the energy he had. Y/N couldn’t help but beam with pride. He was in his element, connecting with the crowd in a way that felt both intimate and powerful. She snapped photo after photo, capturing his every movement, every smile, every moment of pure joy.

Between songs, Louis spoke to the crowd, his accent thick and endearing. “Paris! You lot are incredible tonight,” he said, earning an ear-splitting cheer. “This city always feels like magic to me. Maybe it’s the lights, maybe it’s the love. Either way, let’s make this a night we won’t forget.”

Y/N’s heart swelled. She knew how much this meant to him. Louis’s fans were his world, and he gave them everything he had, night after night. It was one of the things she admired most about him.

As the show progressed, Y/N found herself lost in the music. She sang along to every word, danced along with the crowd, and cheered louder than anyone else. Louis caught her eye more than once, sending her a wink or a playful grin that made her cheeks flush. He even dedicated a song to her, his voice softening as he said, “This one’s for someone who makes every day on this tour better than the last.”

When the final notes of “Silver Tongues” rang out, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Louis bowed, his gratitude evident in the way he held his hand over his heart. As he walked off stage, he headed straight for Y/N, his face flushed and his hair damp with sweat.

“How was that?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

“You were incredible,” Y/N said, throwing her arms around him. “You always are.”

Oli appeared behind them, clapping Louis on the back. “Absolutely smashed it, mate. The energy tonight was next level.”

“Thanks, man,” Louis said, smiling. “And thanks for everything you do. Couldn’t do it without you.”

“You’d be lost without me,” Oli joked, earning a laugh from both Louis and Y/N.

After the show, the crew had planned a small celebration at a nearby rooftop bar overlooking the Eiffel Tower. Paris deserved a proper toast, after all. Louis, Y/N, and Oli arrived together, the cool night air brushing against their skin.

The rooftop was stunning, adorned with twinkling lights and offering a breathtaking view of the city. The Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance, a beacon of romance and wonder. Louis and Y/N found a quiet corner, while Oli mingled with the crew.

Louis poured them each a glass of champagne, handing one to Y/N. “To Paris,” he said, raising his glass.

“To Paris,” she echoed, clinking her glass against his.

They sipped their drinks in comfortable silence, taking in the beauty around them. Y/N couldn’t help but snap a few more photos, capturing the way the city lights reflected in Louis’s eyes. He laughed, playfully swatting at her camera.

“You’re relentless,” he teased.

“And you love it,” she shot back, sticking out her tongue.

Louis’s expression softened. “Yeah, I do.”

Oli wandered over, holding a plate of desserts. “You two look disgustingly cute, you know that?” he said, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I’ve got profiteroles. Anyone want some?”

Y/N laughed. “Always.”

They spent the rest of the evening talking, laughing, and soaking in the magic of Paris. As the night wore on, Louis took Y/N’s hand and led her to the edge of the rooftop. The Eiffel Tower loomed before them, its lights shimmering like diamonds.

“Dance with me,” he said suddenly, setting his glass down.

Y/N blinked. “Here? Now?”

“Why not?” Louis grinned, pulling her close. “No music, no crowd. Just us.”

She laughed but didn’t protest, letting him wrap his arms around her. They swayed gently, the world around them fading away. It didn’t matter that there was no music; the rhythm of their hearts was enough.

For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in Paris, the only two people in the world. Louis leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Y/N’s lips.

“Thank you for being my constant,” he whispered. “Through all of this.”

Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes, but she smiled. “Always,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

The night stretched on, the city’s magic wrapping around them like a warm embrace. As they stood there, dancing under the Parisian sky, Y/N realized that this—the music, the love, the adventure—was the kind of memory they’d hold onto forever. And in that moment, it felt like the Faith in the Future Tour was just as much a journey of the heart as it was a celebration of music.

[iztarshi]

Viktor observations (S1, Act 2)

Heimerdinger says that it’s short notice when he asks Jayce to give the speech and Jayce invites him to the lab that afternoon for a demonstration. But Progress Day appears to already be in, well, progress before Heimerdinger visits the lab which makes the notice very short indeed. He seems to have informed Jayce that morning of a speech to be given in the evening.

Not entirely related to anything in a scene, but I wonder how much Mel was behind the hexgates being the focus of Jayce and Viktor’s efforts? She gets a line in season 2 where she refers to having “built this city for my family” and the hexgates are very much in line with her goals of making Piltover into a place her mother would consider worth something. No Mel hate, but the goals she started with were not altruistic.

*

Jayce and Viktor are nervous about the demonstration for Heimerdinger, but they’re also really enjoying themselves giving it. They’re so theatrical. Viktor enjoying showing off the claw makes me sad that he hates being in front of an audience so much. He’s comfortable enough with Heimerdinger that he’s having fun and he and Jayce do an equal amount of the talking.

Poor Viktor, he’s distraught at the suggestion they might not be able to get these things into production for another decade, presumably because he knows he’s dying even if he doesn’t yet know how fast. But unless he already knows it’s going to be very fast, the choices aren’t actually between rushing this into production with less than a day’s notice or not getting it done during his lifetime. Presumably they had a plan for releasing this before Progress Day was even suggested?

Jayce gesturing Viktor back to stop him arguing with Heimerdinger is also interesting, mostly because it’s a precursor to the much more peremptory gesture later in front of the council. I think it’s mostly a “you’re not going to do our cause any good by arguing right now” gesture but it does give Jayce a sort of leadership role that he gets to decide that. Which is not so much what their roles were before the timeskip.

Jayce handles the question of whether to reveal their new tech during the speech extremely badly. He goes to Mel clearly hoping she’ll tell him not to do the reveal because then it will be her fault Viktor is disappointed and not his. Which, due to how ridiculously tight this schedule is, means he runs out of time to have the talk with Viktor he should have had, where he tells Viktor he’s not comfortable announcing this without Heimerdinger’s approval. I… actually mostly think this shouldn’t be announced and I’m surprised Mel was in favour, sending giant gauntlets and laser claws to Zaun would not help anything nor would announcing they’re about to. And the stabilised gems are easy to steal, which would itself be a reason not to announce them (somehow Jinx manages to steal one even without it being announced). But Jayce should not be making this decision without Viktor’s involvement.

*

The backstage scene is a great example of efficient storytelling as it gives us an insight into Viktor’s relationship with publicity. We’ve already seen that he’s being sidelined. It’s Jayce on the posters, Jayce who’s been asked to give the speech, Jayce who is being introduced to people by Cassandra as the mind behind hextech. This gives us the other side of the story.

We see how miserably nervous Viktor is when he’s thinks he is going to have to do the address, and they linger long enough to make sure we know. Jayce suggests they could both go up and Viktor ruefully says no because he doesn’t want to be in front of the crowd. But then we end with Jayce’s “Man of Progress” coffee cup coming down and covering Viktor up, so he does feel left out. I don’t think Viktor resents Jayce for it - the only thing he’s upset with Jayce for here is for nearly not being there to take the spotlight - but he might resent his own fear.

Dammit, Viktor is excited to handle the backstage special effects and Jayce pulls the rug from under him. That he resents.

*

Jayce gesturing Viktor to stay put when he tries to stand in front of the council is interesting mostly because Viktor obeys. From Jayce it’s intended protectively, they’re in trouble and he’d like attention to remain focused on him as long as that’s the case. For Viktor it’s interesting he remains quiet while Jayce suggests suspending all hextech operations even though he looks devastated at the idea.

*

Jayce and Viktor fighting about Jayce’s new position as a councillor is so…

On the one hand they’re arguing about Jayce’s duty to protect Piltover vs Viktor’s desire to help people, and while Viktor’s easier to sympathise with Jayce isn’t entirely wrong to think they have a responsibility to clean up a mess caused by hextech.

On the other hand they’re arguing about Jayce spending his time stamping out smuggling which isn’t even related to the theft of the hexgem vs Viktor being upset they didn’t announce giant boxing gloves and laser claws, which just makes both of them look dumb.

On the third hand Viktor’s arguing about Jayce stopping their work on hextech now when he’s dying and needs all the time he has and Jayce doesn’t know this so has no idea what they’re arguing about.

Jayce ignoring Viktor to talk to Marcus is one of those moments where I don’t think Viktor is actually ignored for more than a few minutes, but considering how sick he is and that he coughs blood without Jayce noticing it certainly felt a lot worse for him.

We get the first hint of the mysticism around Viktor’s storyline as spilling blood in the hexgate causes him to have a vision. I’m presuming this is because of the wildrune. I’m not sure whether it targeted Viktor or whether he was the first person to bleed into the hexgate.

*

I forgot that not only did Viktor immediately build something he’d seen in a vision he straight up told Jayce that’s what he was doing. Jayce is somewhat baffled, and worried about it shooting explosive beams, but mostly supportive.

*

I do not know what to make of the sextech scene. It’s. In the context of the whole show the golden starry sky we’re seeing in the background appears to be the Arcane itself, or at least the version of it Viktor was interacting with as the Herald. And Mel is a mage, so she might be having magic sex? Or it might be thematically about seduction, in which case that’s not very fair to Mel, but Jayce and Viktor are headed down paths that aren’t good for them and Mel is leading Jayce down his while the hexcore/wildrune/Arcane itself seems to be leading Viktor.

*

We never learn how long the doctors said Viktor had left to live. Viktor acts like the answer is days but I’m not sure how plausible that would be especially since he doesn’t stay in the hospital. Maybe it was a case of knowing he wouldn’t survive another collapse like that but not knowing when it would happen?

*

It’s touching that Heimerdinger both knows where to find Viktor when Viktor is unhappy and cares enough to try and comfort him, but he’s also the worst person to try to comfort a dying and frightened human. I don’t think yordles are as immortal in Arcane as they are in LoL (Heimerdinger refers to not being sure Ekko would turn up even in his “extraordinarily long life” in season 2) but they’re close enough Heimerdinger doesn’t really understand this.

Viktor, though, is surprisingly open with Heimerdinger about his own fears and regrets. Maybe because Heimerdinger’s grief isn’t overwhelming, he’s used to seeing humans die before him, or because Heimerdinger has been in something of a paternal role to Viktor. But even though Heimerdinger is at least nominally in charge of both topside and undercity, Viktor never seems to resent him for anything at all. Seems to admire him, really. “What haven’t you got to show for your remarkable life?” isn’t something you’d say to someone you thought had done badly. Heimerdinger remains one of only two people (the other being Jayce) that Viktor really seems comfortable with and he’s not even this open with Jayce.

*

Viktor testing the hexcore on plants even though the first organic matter it responded to was blood is sweet. Also probably safer, considering the plants grow enormous and strange and then die, but really I think Viktor just didn’t want to hurt anything. Especially after Rio.

“It could be the key to augmenting physiology, extending life…” “Curing you.”

Aah. I note the things Viktor is talking about are things that would apply to him, things he does want to do to himself, but he also doesn’t say that until Jayce does.

Knowing that Viktor’s dying does bring Jayce back to the lab now that he knows this is urgent (it’s been less than a week since he was made councillor, I don’t think he realised Viktor needed him not to take any time away). Unfortunately other things start happening pretty soon after this.

*

Oh, I have questions about what Heimerdinger has seen. My guess is the Rune Wars and the hexcore is somehow close to being an artificial World Rune. But I’ve seen people more familiar with LoL than me theorise something to do with the Void. He’s right is the thing, but we do not get the details. Also, how is Viktor different from before? He hasn’t altered himself yet, so was the hexcore assimilating his blood or him touching it enough to change something?

Poor Viktor, I guess this is the first time in a sequence someone he loves decides he needs to be sacrificed for the sake of Piltover and/or the world. He’s so stunned by Heimerdinger wanting to destroy the hexcore.

Jayce ís immediately protective and it’s him more than Viktor that Heimerdinger is angry with.

“You do what you have to, I need to get ready.” “For what?”

I can’t get over how baffled Viktor is by Jayce saying he needs to get ready. He really doesn’t know what for. Jayce knows, Jayce knows immediately he’s going to have to overthrow the government to save Viktor’s life. Does Viktor not really believe Heimerdinger would destroy the hexcore and sentence him to death? Or is he just too distant from politics to see what this is going to require?

[s-darling-art]

DANA AND JASON

[weirdglassthing]

Frost gently headbutting Gricko for his attention or "grooming" Gricko's hair with his tounge. Take your pick

Grimmorning content and everybody cheered

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

"Did I ever tell you about my Omega casino run in with the Blue Suns, Eclipse, and the Blood Pack Vorcha mafia? Five thousand credits and a bottle of whiskey?"

Ft. Staff Cmdr. Kaidan Alenko, Operations Chief Ashley Williams, Zaeed Massani, & Seven. Dominik Shepard. Phoebus. MIRA'S MORE CANON ME1.5 "Are you Phoebus?" AKA: Pt. 1 of some of what happens between ME1 and ME2 with the Vorcha mafia storyline. :) Mass Effect: Legendary Edition (2021)

[coconut530]

BITTERSWEET REUNIONS