#It's been living rent free in my head for some time and I refuse to suffer alone anymore

[azuresins]

The Butler who polishes and minds the silver of the house is referred as the Silverman, or the 'Silver Butler.' The title of the series then becomes all the more clever... but I'm also angry because that means even the title by itself, is a Sebastian oriented pun. I think we all knew that it was right, but it's the extent of how clever it is, that makes me insane. My understanding is that 'Kuro' doesn't only refer to black as a shade, it refers to darkness, gloom, shadow, ect. It's a pun that's a tad too difficult to translate into english or explain properly in just a title alone... but I see it, Yana, I get it. If a Silver Butler minds the silver, then pray tell, what would Sebastian mind if he were called the Black Butler. The Butler who minds and manages the Darkness. ... (slamming my fist on my desk) It's so good. It's so clever. It's almost too clever. I simultaneously love it and hate it, forever.

[willowsnook]

When Love is Left Unspoken

max verstappen x reader

she isn't you i'd be insane not to love you

request from @formulaal

Pt. 2 here

"Alright, one more question from the chat," you said into your mic, scanning for a good one. One caught your eye, and you began reading it aloud before realizing it would reveal something from your past. “Would you choose a guy over your best friend?”

Laughing humorlessly, you looked into the camera with a tight smile. “Anyone who’s been here for a while knows how relevant that question is to my life. But my answer hasn’t changed: if you’re choosing a romantic partner over your best friend, you can get fucked. Thanks for tuning in, everyone. See you around.”

Logging off, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the kitchen to refill it. Checking your phone, you smiled at the stats from the stream—10k of your fans tuning in tonight was a big turnout. You’d gone viral on BookTok back in 2020, and now, your book podcast had a solid following. Normally, BookTok didn’t bring huge numbers, but thanks to your former best friend, your popularity had skyrocketed. As grateful as you were, his part in your success irritated you now.

Then a notification popped up on your screen, and you rolled your eyes.

MV: Nice stream.

You: Fuck off

MV: Glad I’m still living rent-free in your head.

You: Glad you got permission to text me.

You threw your phone down on the counter, boiling inside. Nobody got under your skin like he could, especially after 20 years of knowing exactly how to do it. Growing up, it hadn’t always been this way. At 10, you’d moved with your family to the Netherlands, right next door to the Verstappens. Max quickly became your best friend, your weekends spent watching him kart. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine things would end like this.

You met Kelly in 2018 at a race Max invited you to. Right away, you got weird vibes. She looked at Max like a toy she had to have. It was creepy, especially given the nine-year age gap. By 2019, they were dating, and she made it clear she didn’t like you, refusing to acknowledge your existence. That led to rocky times between you and Max; he always had excuses to avoid seeing you. When you were together, he seemed tense, as if being watched.

Everything fell apart in Australia 2021.

Flashback

Max invited you to the first race of the 2021 season, though you almost didn’t go. It felt obligatory, as if he invited you just because you’d never missed an opening race. You hadn’t seen him all winter, just exchanging quick holiday texts. Walking into the paddock, you felt a strange sense of finality, like this might be the last one.

Spotting Carmen outside Mercedes, you walked over and hugged her. As you stepped back, she looked worried.

“What’s up?”

She hesitated. “I thought you should know, Kelly’s been saying some nasty things about you around the paddock. No one believes her, but… I wanted you to know.”

“What is she saying?” you asked, heart sinking.

“She’s calling you pathetic, saying you’re still pining over your childhood crush and using Max to become an influencer,” she said softly, looking at you with sympathy.

“You’re joking,” you said, anger simmering. She shook her head.

“Can I be real with you?” She asked, and you nodded. “I love you and George loves you and honestly, everyone does. But I will accept not seeing you here anymore if you finally realize that Max is not being a good friend to you. And he hasn’t been for a long time.”

Eyes filling with tears, you let her words sink in. She was right, but admitting it was brutal. Maybe staying around him was just self-inflicted pain.

You found Max later, pulling him aside.

“I only have a few minutes, so make it quick,” he said, barely looking at you. Seeing him like this, you realized that the man in front of you wasn’t your best friend anymore.

“Your girlfriend’s telling people I’m a pathetic loser here to use you for fame,” you said, voice flat.

“I don’t believe that,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“Really?” you laughed bitterly. “You don’t believe that from your girlfriend—the one who’s disliked me since day one?”

“Seems like you have something to say, Y/N. Just say it,” he replied, finally looking at you.

“There was a time in my life where I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live without you. But now I’m living it. Have the past ten years been nothing to you? All it took was an older woman to bat her eyelashes at you and that was it?”

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off.

“I’m not going to stand here and tell you that we had a good run and that I wish you the best. Fuck you. Fuck you for choosing her over me and fuck you for even letting it have to be a choice. I hate you.”

End of Flashback

That was the last time you had spoken to him. There were no texts or calls after that; his life just went on like normal while you felt like you were dying inside. You had thrown yourself into your work after that and now had over a million followers and subscribers to your podcast. You’d stayed friends with Carmen but hadn’t returned to a race since that day. You had tried to block the memory of that day from your mind, but when you were low, one thing always resurfaced in your mind. Kelly was right about you pining after your childhood crush. You had been in love with Max back then. How could you not be?

Then Carmen invited you to the Austin GP, and after much persuasion, you finally agreed. Thanks to your online following, you flew down with her, officially a Mercedes guest. Wearing Mercedes colors felt like poetic justice.

When you entered the paddock, a wave of nostalgia and sadness hit you. But it disappeared as you saw familiar faces you’d missed over the years.

"Y/N!" Alex called, arms open. Hugging him, you sighed, realizing how much you’d missed everyone. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you admitted before greeting Lily, who gushed over your podcast and joked about being a guest. As you laughed with her, you noticed Alex subtly trying to block your view. Looking over, you saw Max walking by. He did a double take, but you turned back to Lily, ignoring his stare.

Later, as you waited for a coffee, you overheard Checo’s wife and Fernando’s girlfriend chatting.

“I heard Max and Kelly broke up,” Melissa said.

“Oh yeah, it’s been a few months,” Carola replied, shrugging. “Apparently, he was in love with someone else the whole time.”

You smirked. So Kelly finally experienced what it felt like to be second choice.

The race came and went, and you successfully avoided Max the entire weekend. You didn’t even think about the possibility of running into him when you accepted Carmen’s invitation to go out that night. George had actually wanted to go out, so you found yourself at a little country bar that night with what seemed to be the whole grid. You felt Max’s gaze the second you walked in, and you were doing a hell of a job ignoring him. Charles was trying to talk to him, looking confused between the two of you, but you didn’t care.

Ordering another gin and tonic you felt him come up next to you and you refused to look over.

“Put hers on mine,” Max said, handing over his card. You tried to leave, but he held out an arm to stop you.

“No ‘thank you’?” he teased, eyes intense.

You glared. “You can have it, then.”

“Stop being difficult,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You look good.”

“Can’t say the same about you,” you shot back, and his expression darkened.

He sighed. “Can we talk?”

“I said everything I needed to say three years ago. Have a good night.”

This time he let you go and you made your way back to Carmen who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You okay?” She asked, and you nodded.

A little while later, you were sitting at a table talking with Charles with Max hovering close by.

“Max, come sit down,” Charles slurred, and at this point, you were too tipsy to put up a fight about it. “Max is my best friend, ya know?”

“Ah yeah?” You asked head tilting. “Those words don’t mean much coming from him.”

Charles giggled, too drunk to understand what you meant and Max clenched his jaw looking at you.

“Insult me all you want schatje, as long as you’re talking to me I’ll take it,” he said and you didn’t say anything, just stared at him trying to figure out his angle.

“Is this the girl Kelly broke up with you over?” Charles asked and Max whipped his head towards him. “You always had a thing for her, so I told Alex that was my guess.”

Max’s face fell, and you froze. Shock turned into anger as you got up and stormed out. You felt Max following and soon he was in front of you, blocking your path.

“Come on,” he urged, leading you to a nearby park.

“Max, I don’t want to talk,” you said firmly, pulling away.

“I don’t care,” he replied, frustrated. “Tell me what I need to do to fix this.”

You laughed bitterly. “Crawling back because you got dumped? It’s too late.”

“It’s not like that.”

“You made your choice three years ago. Now live with it.”

“You want to know why we broke up?”

“I don’t really give a fuck,” you replied before turning to walk away.

“She isn’t you!” He yelled. Your legs stopped moving as your mind reeled.

Whirling on him you got into his face, “You don’t get to fucking say that to me. Not after all this time. Not after what you put me through. Not after you chose her over me. I was there the whole time Max. Me! I was there! It’s not my fault you didn’t realize that till I was gone.” 

“I realized it long before then,” he said softly, and you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. Tears were starting to fall, and you looked everywhere but him. 

“Then why?” You whispered, voice cracking. 

“Because I wasn’t good enough for you,” he said laughing sadly to himself. “The pressure was starting to cave in back then and I didn’t want you to see that. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“You were my best friend Max,” you said exasperated. “I would have done anything for you.” 

“It’s easy to see that now,” he said. “But then you were so full of life and starting your little videos that I didn’t want to disappoint you. She understood what I was going through, but I never stopped loving you.” 

“Then why did you still push me away?” 

“I had to do that so that I could try and move on. She knew and she hated that there wasn’t anything she could do to change how I felt about you. I knew what she was saying about you in the paddock, and I knew why she was saying it.” 

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and it felt like heartbreak all over again. “You knew and you let it happen. You are the worst person I’ve ever known Max Verstappen.”

He was crying now too and the two of you stood staring at one another not saying anything. 

“I would be insane not to love you,” he said softly and it made you cry harder. “So I will do whatever it takes for however long to make up for what I did.” 

He let you go again and you left him there, crying silently as you walked back to the hotel. So many emotions going through your mind paired with confusing feelings. 

Happiness for your 15-year-old self that has wanted to hear those words for so long. 

Sadness for your 21-year-old self reliving those memories. 

And anger at your 24-year-old self for considering letting him make it up to you. 

[predestinatos]

too cold | MV1 ⋆꙳❅ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

pairing: max verstappen x female!reader

summary: stormy weather leads to stormy thoughts about a years long friendship.

tags: best friends to lovers, soo cheesy, fluff, giddy max, super whipped for reader!!, wearing his sweater, just so much softness!

author's note: i dreamt about max for some reason and he's been living in my head rent free so... i had to let this out!! hope you like it. it's a short cute thing so..!

word count: 3.5k

warnings: -

It was cold and stormy that day. You had expected it, the forecasts all telling you the same thing, your hair completely tangled in itself as soon as you stepped out of the house into the car.

You planned it all, including getting there earlier, so you could spend as much time with Max as possible – you never skipped the pleasant silence of his presence at least once a week. What you hadn’t planned was for you two to get carried away with taking buzzfeed quizzes and personality tests to the point where it was dark outside, the storm more aggressive, more threatening, and more dangerous.

“Shit,” you muttered when the wind outside made the windows tremble with extreme force, their sound almost like a warning voice in the night. “How am I going home like this?” you asked yourself out loud, desperate and scared, as Max completed yet another ‘What’s Your Mental Age Based on Your Choice of Cutlery’ quiz. He glanced outside nonchalantly, almost carelessly, as if the question was ridiculously easy to answer, close to ironic.

Before going back to the seriousness of the questions at hand, he shrugged, shoulders going up and down in explicit tranquility. “You can stay over” he stated, his finger hovering over a weirdly shaped spoon that said ‘shit stirrer’ on its surface. You let out a breath that indicated his joke was funny yet not useful in the slightest given your current dilemma, to which he looked at you and laughed back, assuming you were amused at the choice of teaspoon he had just made.  “Max, I’m serious” you voiced your urgency and fear with those words. “Me too” he continued, eyes glued on the screen, yet slightly confused at your own comment.

At your audible sigh and attempt to get up from his bed, where you comfortably laid scrolling through your phone for options, he turned around from his chair which was facing the screen. “You’re not leaving” he said, in a concerned tone of a friend who refused to let you be consumed by the rapidly increasing rain. “I don’t understand what the matter is” he continued as he saw you searching through his room for your things, messily scattered on the floor, reminiscent of childhood times spent together.

You merely looked at him in response, the answer obvious to you but seemingly not to him, only hitting him hard in the face as a joke he couldn’t help but laugh at seconds later. “You always slept here” he said, astonished at your reluctance and apparent timidness. “Yeah, Max. When we were 11” you protested, tucking some hair behind your ear as you looked for your charger. “Plus, I don’t have a pajama, or spare underwear” your arms now crossed across your chest, mimicking his own, a baffled smile on his lips.

“You can wear one of my sweaters. And like, my boxers, or something” this made your mouth drop in ridiculous surprise, a fear in your eyes which he didn’t understand. “I’m serious! It’s better than you going out with this storm!” his arm pointed towards the window, the view outside a paid actor because a lightning appeared violently before both of you. With a winning grin, he finished his argument with a “C’mon I’ll let you choose the outfit.”

Opening the drawers, you let yourself take a look at the collection of multicolored sweaters organized neatly. Your eyes landed on a grey one, which looked a bit worn out but comfortable at the same time, its marks of usage being a testament to its quality. You grabbed it and noticed that it smelled like Max, like the years of friendship you two shared. “The boxers are in the other drawer” Max interrupted your thoughts, yet his indifferent air made you less awkward about this situation, almost like it was normal that this was happening, like you were both 10 again, popcorn being prepared in the small kitchen next door.

You let yourself randomly choose some of his underwear, trying your best not to look too much at it, knowing little to nothing about how to even begin choosing such a thing for yourself. The strong wind whistled outside, and Max’s fingers hit the keyboard, creating a soothing lullaby.

“I’m- uh-… going then” you said, making your way towards the bathroom as he happily nodded, the familiarity of the house being a known fact for both of you.

The truth was, Max missed you. A lot. He missed hanging out with you all night, watching really bad films and playing silly videogames, drinking some beers and enjoying yourselves. Lately, he hadn’t had the time to do all these things, let alone doing them with you, and even though he did not plan this storm in the slightest, he was glad for it. The rain came as a reminder that you two had a year long friendship you could still enjoy, the sound blending with the one coming from the bathroom as you turned on the shower.

Sleeping over only got weird given the fact that Max was a boy and you were a girl, but it shouldn’t have been like that. In his mind, nothing changed, and nothing should have to change – he still wanted you as close as he did when you two watched scary video compilations on youtube and spent all night hiding under the covers and whispering in an attempt to not ‘awake the big monster’.

He still wanted to spend time with you when you were 16 and started talking about how cute his friends were, asking him if they were single or not as you put a lollipop in your mouth and painted your nails in colorful amusement.

He still wanted you to sleep over even when his girlfriends told him they didn’t quite like the fact that he was so close with you, that he seemed to want to be with you more than with them, that he dropped everything as soon as you texted him a slightly unusual text.

And it was normal, and alright, because you were best friends, because you knew each other better than your own selves, because you’d recognize his laugh in the middle of a crowd even with noise cancelling headphones, and he would recognize the smile you made when you were flustered even if he was blindfolded.

It was also normal for him to smile to himself and feel the happiest he has felt in a while, because he missed you, and you were staying over and nothing would have felt better than knowing he had a night full of your presence.

Meanwhile, you stood in his all-too familiar shower, accepting the fact that he had no conditioner, and a shampoo would have to do for the night. Simultaneously, this made you reflect on the clear fact that he had probably had no stable, consistent, female presence in his life in a while. As the liquid dropped in your hand and you brought your hands to your hair, thoughts about previous relationships of his flooded your mind.

They never ended well, and the guilt you felt because of it was ever present. Max was the best friend you could’ve asked for, because he always picked you, no matter what. In fact, he gave it no thought nor justification, not to you or his previous relationships. He accepted the fact that you were his priority as a given, something so natural as breathing, as blood pumping through his veins. You couldn’t deny you did the same. Previous partners of yours weren’t too fond of his constant need to assess and approve of them, of how he was your emergency contact whenever anything happened, how you made sure you spent time with him at least once a week.

Feeling the foam forming on your scalp, you remembered the times where you two bathed together, the innocence of gone times flying through your head with fondness. Of course, you two grew, and while you never broke the bond that formed between you, it was also harder to continue certain traditions you maintained.

Your teenage years were filled with angst and some bickering over how uncomfortable he made your dates, or how all he did was talk about girls when you two were together. You used each other as diaries and confidantes, keeping secrets in a closed vault made of memories. Nothing really had changed besides your ages, and none of you were dating, or at least it did not seem like it.

As you washed your body with lavender scented soap, you realized this is what you were missing – the comfortability of being the most like yourself you could possibly be, alongside him.

Max stared at the “You Are 14 Years Old!” result on his computer, reading the in depth description on how that one fork gave his age away, when he heard your shout for his name coming from the now foggy bathroom, the place now looking more like Silent Hill or a liminal space. Removing one side of his headphones off, his voice echoed throughout the apartment “Yes?”, filled with softness and worry, a completely unknown care for you which wasn’t displayed by anyone else but him. Smiling to yourself, you replied, “do you seriously only own one bath towel?”

Removing both of his headphones off now, with realization hitting him and he jumped from his seat, he ran towards the drawer that possessed all the other towels he stored in organized fashion. “Shit! No! Sorry! I’m on my way!” he said urgently, grabbing one as he ran towards the bathroom, opening its door and popping only one arm in, his eyes facing the wall but also closed with affirming need to reassure you that he wasn’t looking, refused to look, would never even consider to do such a thing.

You pulled the fabric off his hand as you thanked him with a soft giggle, his previous nonchalant attitude vanishing upon the thought of seeing you naked – which you weren’t, and he would’ve realized this had he considered the fact that the bathroom possessed ONE towel, currently wrapped around your now wet body. Shivering with cold, you got yourself dry as fast as you could, while Max sat back down in his chair, cursing to himself at his clumsiness and lack of thought.

Examining yourself in the mirror as dried your hair off (after several minutes of looking for the hairdryer, not wanting to put Max through the whole ordeal of performing the biggest demonstration of respect towards one’s privacy ever witnessed) you noticed something you hadn’t before. This simple, yet incriminating item put into question your previous thoughts about Max’s lack of companionship in his home, your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth turning downwards at the thought that he was hiding something from you.

On the tiny little cup sitting on the sink, there were two toothbrushes. They were carefully put together in a magical arrangement of colors that indicated that one had to be able to tell them apart, like each had its own owner. Suddenly, the whole idea of sleeping over – hell, of wearing Max’s clothes – seemed ridiculously selfish. You had done it before, but you were adults now, and with adulthood came a sense of responsibility and respect that hit you in the face like a slap, the simple idea of an innocent sleepover with your best friend sounding absolutely childish and ridiculous.

“Max?” you called out again, a deep breath escaping your lungs as you sat down on the toilet seat, hair still slightly damp, towel still wrapped around your body upon your refusal to put his clothes on. “Yes?” he replied once again, a feeling of déjà vu invading your thoughts, a repetition of mere seconds before yet with rose tinted glasses off.

 “I think it’s best if I just go home,” you muttered, even though you hadn’t moved. Realistically, the idea of going out there terrified you, but perhaps not as much as staying over, given the current situation. Putting your underwear back on after showering felt dirty, but perhaps wearing his clean one after noticing another one’s presence in his room, his life, his thoughts, made you feel even dirtier.

“Come on, I bet your outfit looks amazing” he said jokingly, assuming you were embarrassed about your current look, trying to lighten up the mood with teasing reassurance. Getting up once again, he stood near the bathroom door, head close to it as if trying to listen to the fabric against your skin, some hint of your own amused presence. All he heard was silence, one so unbelievably loud he felt something off, something wrong. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice now more careful, more tender, and more concerned.

You only murmured in allowance, and noticed the doorknob turn as he stepped inside. “What’s up?” he asked, his eyes revealing deep concern with slight embarrassment over the painting you two were probably creating. Him, pajama pants and hoodie on, glasses now slightly foggy; you, with droplets falling down your hair as you looked down, hugging the towel tightly against your body. “I don’t want to cause any trouble” you said as you unconsciously looked back at the toothbrushes which now seemed to stare at you both accusingly, judgingly.

“Why would you- Oh,” he interrupted himself, his gaze following yours towards the same spot, his look going from confused to serious to utterly humored. “This?” he asked again, grabbing the small toothbrush from the cup, its cable a pretty yellow shade. “What’s your favorite color again?” he continued, waving the object in front of your face as you stared at it in confusion.

Looking up, you replied simply “yellow- oh,” it was your turn to interrupt yourself, now realizing how you had almost forgotten your childhood promise, yet surprised as well at the fact that he had kept it after all these years, the innocence of the act causing your heart to hurt slightly.

“It’s always been here. I mean, not the same one, obviously, but… a spare toothbrush” he explained, even though he did not have to, his hand playfully messing your hair before he headed bac towards the door. “Get dressed, silly. We have films to watch” his warm voice instructed you with tenderness before he closed the door behind him.

Stepping out of the bathroom, finally dry and dressed, you forced Max to close his eyes before looking at you. “Don’t make fun of me or I’ll leave” you threatened jokingly, as his eyes remained tightly shut with his hands in front of them dramatically. “I won’t I promise!” he claimed, yet he was already laughing, the sound of it reminding you of the years of togetherness you both shared.

“Okay, you can look” you finally gave your permission, as he took his hands off his face and blinked fast, the lights suddenly blinding him. At first, he just stared at you, expression absolutely unreadable. Then, he burst into laughter, apologizing as his giggles filled the bedroom. “I look ridiculous” you complained, the long sleeves covering your hands and flopping lazily as you did so. “No you look adorable!” he tried to protest, laughter insistent on making its way through his lips, his eyes shining with happy tears. “Adorably ridiculous” you continued, rolling your eyes and throwing yourself on the bed defeatedly, your head buried in his pillow, filled with the scent of him.

Knowing your mood would change soon, Max merely smiled to himself as he started putting a film on, the choice being the Twilight saga – easy to watch, entertaining, fun, and he could tease you about it constantly, pretending he didn’t enjoy it himself. Bags of jellybeans hit your head as he threw them towards you, in an attempt to wake you from your moody attitude. “C’mon grumpy I have beer” he poked you as he sat on the bed as well, pressing play and opening a bag which he waved in front of your face as you got up lazily.

“’I know what you are’ ‘Say it. Out loud. Say it!’ ‘Vampire’” you said the lines along with the film, echoing each and every intonation and expression. Popping a bear shaped jellybean in his mouth as he took another sip of his beer, Max interrupted your acting session by saying “can you imagine how awkward it would be if it was something else entirely and he would just be like… ‘uh no’” and laughing to himself. Your arm flew to his as you punched it angrily, despite the fact that you were giggling to yourself.

Something about getting you slightly on your nerves while also making you smile made Max feel almost at home, in a safe space without comparison, only available to him when you were around. He felt himself in a constant state of meditation whenever he was around you, his breathing naturally adjusting itself to match yours.

Instinctively, and not out of the ordinary for any of you, he grabbed your hand and played with it softly, his fingers feeling the soft texture of your skin and pinching it with playful tenderness. You never questioned it, and neither did he, this need you two had to display affection more than most friends did, the need to always be in some sort of contact with each other, to feel each other’s warmth and presence closely. Without taking his eyes off of the film, seemingly very intensely focused on Edward’s skin of a killer, he spoke up. “You don’t look ridiculous,” he said, as you held your gaze on the film, yet laughing at his comment, expecting a joke to be made about how what’s on the screen is way more embarrassing than you in his underwear. Yet he said something completely different. “You always look pretty. Very pretty” his voice was soft as he now looked at you, and you felt his gaze on your skin, your cheeks, your eyelashes, yet refused to look at him and face whatever was happening in that night.

The windows rattled once again, breaking the momentary spell that hovered in the room, hypnotizing both of you with the haze of uncertain feelings. You heard his breathing as well, heavy and nervous now, his heart racing and yours matching his, maybe because you were so deeply connected or maybe because your feelings and his were now the same shade of complexity.

 You wondered if this is why you had stopped sleep overs together. Perhaps it was the fear of facing the fact that things were not as simple and easy to brush off when the clock hit 3am and his hand was on his and your head on his shoulder and you had no intention of moving. And he shared these same thoughts, realizing how that letting go of you right now would probably be the worst thing that could happen, the scariest thought that could possibly cross his mind.

All this happened in fractions of second, too short for any of you to truly acknowledge what was happening, his voice interrupting both of your thoughts as he spoke once again, “obviously not as pretty as Edward Cullen but-“ to which you rolled your eyes and laughed. “I bet he’d look better in your sweatshirt” you said, another sip of beer falling on your lips.

“Impossible” he replied, a smile on his lips, his eyes finally meeting yours and then taking your whole appearance in, your cheeks blushing shyly at how attentively he looked at you, at how his gaze seemed so tender and soft. A sudden urgency to feel his lips on yours filled your thoughts with sheer intensity that terrified you. You hadn’t seen Max that way, hadn’t considered it nor question it before, not even when your dates and boyfriends accused you of things, not when your friends commented on how you looked at him. Yet in that exact moment, something shifted completely, perhaps stirred by the storm outside, perhaps because it simply felt right in that moment to feel wrong.

“Can I kiss you?” he suddenly asked. The innocence of the question made you giggle, the contrast between his soft and careful voice and his adult look with a week old stubble making you giddy and timid as you nodded.

His lips touched yours with caution, yet with undeniable fondness that made you question why this hadn’t happened before. You felt his smile in between the kiss, the satisfaction of finally breaking this unknown wall that had existed between you for so long, and which you remained so unaware about.

Pulling away, Max’s eyes stared into yours before moving to the screen, a satisfied smile on his now slightly redder than usual lips, your own face mimicking his. “Edward Cullen could never kiss as well as you” he whispered, earning himself another soft punch, followed by 3 more films worth of kissing.

[stark-ironman]

Separated

A/N: probably my longest fic yet haha. Honestly, I seen a video of Hugh literally picking up another woman in front of his wife at the time and this idea has been living in my head rent free for a few days now. I'm trying to get out of my writing slump. And no this is not proofread

Warnings: angst, jealously, mentions of pregnancy

"Y/N, love, I'm sorry. It honestly was all just for fun." Hugh tries to explain as you start packing your bag. "Fun? You call flirting and picking another woman up in front of me, fun? Smiling and touching her waist all while I had to stand there and keep a fake smile on my face!" You exclaim, looking at him with fiery eyes. "What did you expect me to do? If I said no then I would've been accused of calling her fat and my career would've taken a massive hit!" He raises his voice and throws his hands in the air.

Taking a deep breath, you try to suppress your anger as you look at him. "So, your career is more important than your marriage?" You ask, quietly. "No, I never said that." Hugh tries to reach out for you but you back away from him, crossing your arms over your stomach. "You embarrassed me in front of everybody. All those interviews you've done where you flirt with the hosts and picking that woman up tonight, you've embarrassed me for the last time. We have this argument just about every time you do an interview because of how you act on them, and this is the last time I stand here and feel embarrassed and unworthy of your love. I'm leaving and I don't want you following me. You want to flirt with every single woman in this world then fine, your wish has come true." You take your ring off and set it on the dresser, not once sparring a glance at Hugh as you grab your suitcase and quickly leaving the house.

You drive to the nearest hotel to check in, noticing some of Hugh's friends standing outside but you walk right past them, hearing them whisper amongst themselves as to why you're there, but you continue on to your room.

Once up to your room, you lock the door and immediately hop in the shower. Tears flow down your face as you think back to all the arguments you and Hugh have had over the past couple of years, especially when it comes to him having to flirt with every single woman he is around. You understand it comes with the job for fans and interviewers to flirt with him, but he refuses to set boundaries because it 'hurts his career' as he puts it.

You set a boundary with all the men who interview you or hang around you to not flirt or touch you inappropriately, especially after Hugh got over-jealous one time, and it never hurt your career any. Two years you have wondered why he does it but you can never figure out why. When he's with you, he is the happiest man in the whole world but the moment another woman flirts with him, it's like something flips inside and he turns into a different person, especially when he didn't used to be like this.

Hugh was absolutely crazy about you in the beginning. He wouldn't even glance at another woman but now it's like he craves the attention even though he gets all of yours.

Wiping your tears, you finish showering and get dressed, grabbing your phone as you lay on the bed. You see numerous text messages from your friends about a TMZ link so you look at it and are immediately shocked.

Y/N & Hugh Jackman Reportedly Separate.

Who the fuck told TMZ..

----

A few weeks later, you wake up the next morning to knocking at your door. Silently cursing to yourself, you open it to see Hugh standing there with bags under his eyes and his beard starting to grow out.

"I thought I told you to leave me alone?" You spit, going to shut the door but he stops it. "Please, can we just talk for a minute?" His voice is soft but hoarse, making you wonder if he's been drinking anything. "I told you the other night I was done talking. I've talked for years and you didn't want to listen then." You say trying to shut the door again.

"Y/N, please." He begs and you notice tears forming in his eyes, causing your heart to slightly break. "Five minutes, that's it." You step aside to let him in, shutting the door behind you.

The two of you stand in silence and you watch as he fidgets with his ring, one thing he does when he's nervous to calm him down. "How did you find me?" You ask even though you know the answer. "A couple friends texted me the night you left that you was here." He barely says, coughing a little.

You grab a bottle of water from the fridge, handing it to him as he whispers a thank you. He drinks it and you go sit on the couch, motioning for him to follow.

"I'm sorry," He starts, "I know I've hurt you for a while now and I never wanted to do that but looking back at what I've done, I understand what's wrong. I tried every interview to set a boundary but the interviewers always wait until im on camera to ask me to say or do certain things that if i say no, it makes me look bad. Even my management team said if I tell them no then my career is ruined. My career is no where near as important as you are but darling, I love what I do. I don't want to lose my career but I don't want to lose you either."

"Do you remember when we first got married and I done that interview with Jimmy, the one he was flirting the whole time and you got really pissed off?" He nods and you continue, "What's different about you being jealous versus me?" His head turns down and you know he's finally understanding where you're coming from.

"I'm really sorry." Hugh chokes out, letting the tears fall down his face this time. "I don't know if sorry is going to work this time." You quietly say. "I fucked up and I don't expect your forgiveness. I don't deserve your love or anything." Hugh stands up, heading towards the door and looks at you as he opens it.

"I'll go file for divorce today and have the papers sent by the end of the day." He says and walks out, leaving you by yourself with your thoughts.

Divorce?

You never mentioned wanting a divorce, you really just wanted separation so he could realize the mistakes he made. Which leaving your ring didn't help any and that was a heat of the moment type of thing but you figured he would have tried to fix things before running to a lawyer.

You decide to go out for a cup of coffee so you head to the nearest shop, sitting down in a isolated corner of the building as you scroll your phone, seeing all the news articles trying to pick apart yours and Hugh's relationship.

As you drink your coffee, you see a full flash from the corner of your eye and quickly stand up, heading out of the shop and running straight for the hotel.

"Y/N! Where's Hugh at? Why did you two split?" You hear several paps asking but you ignore them, running straight into the lobby and you're thankful this hotel doesn't allow cameras inside. You start walking towards the elevators, hearing the paps start up again as someone walks through and you turn around, seeing Hugh's assistant walk through the doors with some papers.

'Well that was fast.' You thought to yourself. "Mr. Jackman wanted me to bring these to you." He says handing you the papers.

Taking them out of his hand, you see the word divorce at the top of the paper and hand it back to the assistant. "Take them back and tell him I don't want them." You say giving them back. "But, Mr. Jackman told me to give them to you and make sure everything was in order before I brought them back." He tells you.

"Kid, I don't want the papers. If this is a big issue then call Hugh and tell him I don't want them. I'm going up to my room now so go ahead and do whatever else you need to do." You smile as you walk away, heading back up to your room.

The moment you walk inside, your phone starts going off so you answer it.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Why did you turn away the papers?" Hugh's confused voice fills the phone.

"If you would have given me a moment to talk, you would have known I never wanted a divorce. I wanted you to try to fix things with us before going that route because I do still love you." You sit on the couch, listening to him sigh.

"I'm the stupidest man on this entire planet. I should've let you tell me your feelings, I'm sorry." His voice cracks but you don't think he's crying, yet.

"I want to work on these things with you, Hugh, but I want you to be able to figure out what all you have to fix on your own." You tell him, looking out the window.

"I've already fired my management team for making me believe I couldn't set boundaries and I'm releasing a statement today announcing that I'm taking a long break from doing interviews until people can start respecting the limits I set." He shuffles around and a small smile form's on your face.

"You really did all of that?" You ask.

"I did and I'm going to do more. I want my best friend back home with me." He softly tells you causing your tears to well up as he continues, "Can I take you out tonight?"

"Hugh, don't you think it's too soon?" You ask but he stops you.

"If you think so then just tell me no."

You think about it and your mouth speaks before your brain can come up with a reason. "Let's do it."

"I'll be there at 6, darling." He says before hanging up.

You look at the time, noticing it's 4 now so you get up and start getting ready.

After getting ready, you hear a knock on the door so you look at the time, noticing Hugh shouldn't be here for a few more minutes and you open it to see one of his friends standing there.

"Can I help you? Did something happen to Hugh?" You ask, confused. "The only thing that happened to Hugh was he lost the most beautiful girl by flirting with every one else." The man says, lifting a hand up to your face but you smack it away. "Don't touch me." You tell him but he steps closer. "I know you've wanted me for a long time so don't sit here and act like that." His foot steps inside but he gets flung back into the wall and you look in shock as Hugh starts punching him.

You run up to him, placing your hand on his shoulders causing Hugh to relax against you but he stands up, holding your face in his hands. "Are you okay?" He quietly asks, eyes meeting yours. You nod and hug him.

"Come on, Hugh. You know she doesn't want you anymore." The guy says from the floor and he turns around to look at him. "She didn't want you either, mate, but you tried forcing your way into her room after she said no." Hugh snarls as he kicks the guy so you grab his hand and lead him inside, locking the door.

You grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet as you start bandaging his hand. "This is not how I wanted our first date to start out." He tells you with a chuckle. "First date, huh." You state, looking up at him to notice he shaved his beard off.

He nods, taking your hand in his as he looks at you with soft eyes that speak a thousand words. "We should go if we're going to make our reservation." Hugh says after a few minutes, causing you to straighten up and finish his hand. "Alright, your hand should be all better." "Thank you, love." He tells you as he stands up.

You both walk out of the room and head downstairs, seeing the paparazzi still standing outside. "Is it okay if I hold your hand?" He asks and you nod, interlacing your fingers with his as he leads you out. The cameras flash like crazy as Hugh leads you to his car and he helps you in before getting in on his side.

"I wish I knew who told the media about our separation." He grumbles after he's been driving for a few minutes. "When I arrived to the hotel that night, there was a group of your friends outside, one being the guy you beat up tonight." You tell him. "Well you don't have to worry, I'm getting a new phone tomorrow and cutting a lot of people off." Hugh says, glancing over at you.

"You don't have to do that." You look over at him to see him shaking his head. "No, I have to do it. They're nothing but trouble for me anyways." He continues driving until he gets to fancy restaurant, leading you inside and acting like the sweet and kind Hugh that you fell in love with originally.

----

After dinner, Hugh takes you back to the hotel but notices the paps are still outside. "Love, why don't you just come back home? I'll sleep in the guest room but I don't want you being harassed anymore." He tries to reason. You think about it especially since you're tired of staying here. "I need to get all of my stuff if I do." You tell him and he pulls his phone out, sending a quick text before driving off.

"My assistant will get it tonight so don't worry." You smile when he says that, reaching your hand over to grip his. Hugh's hand squeezes yours tightly and you see a smile work it's way onto his face.

The drive to the house is fairly quiet and when you get there, he grabs some clothes and goes to the guest room like he promised. You change into some comfier clothes and lay on the bed, tv playing in the background with the volume off, as you try to go to sleep but after hours of tossing and turning, you sigh and get up.

Walking through the house, you think of all the memories that are here and you zone out thinking of everything, noticing you're in front of Hugh's door so you knock quietly. He opens the door and you're met with his broad, shirtless chest and he looks at you with a smile but has a confused look on his face.

"Is something wrong?" He asks. "Can I stay with you? I can't sleep." You quietly say and he steps aside, letting you in. You both get in the bed and he turns the light back off as well try to go to sleep.

Turning over, you lay your head on his chest and he wraps his arm around you to hold you closer, causing you to fall asleep quickly for the first time in 3 weeks to the sound of his heartbeat.

-----

A few more weeks pass and things have gotten entirely better for the two of you. Hugh held up his promises and set boundaries for everybody and he made sure to put out a statement regarding his behavior during the interviews and taking accountability on his part, he even goes to therapy and takes you along with him every couple of days.

Which, a couple of days ago you woke up deathly sick and after Hugh left to get some medicine, you took a pregnancy test and found out you're pregnant so now you're getting ready to go to your ob to find out how far along you are. You just have to tell Hugh and hope this doesn't backtrack all the work you two have done over the past few weeks.

"Hey, love." Hugh says, walking in and kissing your cheek as you greet him back. Yes, cheek, you two haven't made it back to kissing each other yet but you're hoping it's soon.

"Do you feel like taking me to the doctor? I still feel a little queasy after these past few days." You tell him and he nods, wrapping his arms around you. "I wonder what could be going on. You're not running a fever or anything like that and it's honestly got me concerned." He softly says, pressing a hand against your forehead.

"That's actually what I want to talk to you about," You look up and see his eyes glimmer as he looks at you causing you to smile softly before continuing, "I took a test a couple days ago and found out... I'm pregnant." Hugh looks down at you and you see his face go through several emotions before a smile breaks out on his face.

"Are you serious?" He excitedly asks and you nod. Hugh hugs you tightly, kissing your forehead before leaning down and kissing you deeply, feeling the world around you stop when he does. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer, feeling his arms wrap around your waist as he lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

"Is this okay?" He whispers against your lips. "More than okay." You whisper back as both of your lips connect again, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip.

"Shit, we have an appointment to get to." You breathe out, pulling back slightly. He nods and holds you there, burying his face in your neck. "Just give me a minute." He tells you and that's when you feel his erection straining against his pants.

"I'm sorry, hon. I didn't mean to get you hard." You apologize, holding him close. "Trust me, love, it doesn't take much for me to get turned on by you but I'll be okay. I'm just glad to have you back in my arms again." He admits, kissing your shoulder softly.

Your fingers play with the hair on his neck as he holds you in silence.

"Let's go to my appointment and we can talk about where we're at now. Okay?" You say as he sets you down gently and he nods, following you out to the car.

Once to the ob's office, you're lead back and they give you a sheet to put over your lower half so they can do an ultrasound. Hugh grabs your hand, staring at you lovingly as the tech starts checking you. A heartbeat fills the room causing you both to look at the screen and tears to flow out your eyes. Hugh kisses your forehead softly, smiling down at you.

"Well. Mrs. Jackman, it looks like you are 8 weeks along and the baby has a pretty strong heartbeat. You should be able to find the gender out at the next appointment." She says handing you the pictures she took. You nod and Hugh leads you out, taking you home after setting up your next appointment.

Once home, you notice there's food laid out on the table and you look at Hugh, confused. "I had planned a surprise for you tonight but I forgot about it when you told me about the baby. I hope it's okay." Hugh says with a bit of uncertainty. "It's more than okay." You smile as he leads you to the table, pulling your chair back for you and helping you sit down.

You two eat dinner, joking and laughing with each other the whole time and it feels like your relationship feels normal again. "Y/N, I want you to know that I feel bad about upsetting you the way I did a few weeks ago and for the past couple of years and I'm thankful everyday that you've given me a second chance to prove that you're the only person I want. I never want to live my life again without you in it so will you please marry me, again?" He asks getting on one knee in front of you.

You nod, pulling him into a hug after he puts your ring back on and he grips you tightly. "I love you, hon." You say, feeling tears come after saying that to hugh after a month of not saying it. "I will love you forever, darling. I promise."

[jenosbigtoe]

so real on the "but i also really want alpha jeno in my guts" cause same 😩 his outfit on the bat is still living in my mind rent free

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: alpha!lee jeno x mate!reader

warnings: abo, unprotected sex, breeding, mating press, creampie, possessiveness

alpha!jeno is such a himbo.

you seriously wonder how long he’s survived without you by his side. he asks you the silliest questions, tilting his head and pouting his lip slightly as his eyebrows furrow in confusion. it’s the cutest sight to you, seeing this big muscular man act so clueless.

“why can’t we have just sex right now?”

“jen, your friends are literally in the living room and we are IN THE KITCHEN WITH NO DOORS.”

“okay but you’re my mate, they should understand right?”

and trust, he has an insane sex drive. he promises he’s never been this horny before he met you but now that you’re officially his, he gotta be inside you in some capacity at all times. you’re his mate duh, if he could crawl inside your skin he would.

you’ll be cuddling on the couch, watching a romcom, and he whispers “baby, can i stick the tip in? i’m so hard.”

you’ll be eating dinner at the dining table and his fingers gravitate to your thighs as he wordlessly cups your cunt under your underwear, mindlessly rubbing and pumping his fingers in and out of you.

and he would actually be so so sooo jealous of anything and everything that breathes and looks at you.

“oh so you like this stray kitten more than your mate alright how would you feel if i just ran away from home and became a stray too?”

“jen.”

he actually gets the most jealous when it comes to his friends being around you. he knows them too well, even if he trusts you and (to a certain extent) them.

“jaemin get the fuck away from my mate right now you absolute manwhore.”

“??bitch we’re literally just playing mario kart like 3 feet away from each other.”

“i don’t give a fuck she’s mine,” and pulls you into his lap to pout and snuggle you tightly, locking you in his massive biceps.

jeno is so silly as your mate but oh does he fuck you like no other.

his insane animal stamina has him going for hours after your legs have already become jelly and your mind fucked stupid from overstimulation.

“baby, you’re mine. my mate, my love. your body was made for me,” he would growl into your ear as he took you in mating press.

his thick heavy body would drive his cock so so deep inside your poor little pussy, you would be left sobbing.

“jen-jeno! s’deep,” you’d cry, hiding your face in your arms.

he’d grab your arms and pin them above your head, using his powerful hips to thrust so hard and so deep to keep you from squirming so much.

“ah. wanna see my mate as i fuck my pups into her. you’re doing so good, sweetheart.”

and he refuses to ever cum anywhere but deep inside your little cunt. “i don’t care if you’re on that stupid birth control bullshit, you’re gonna have my kids.”

[pugh-bug]

Flashing Lights

Art Donaldson x reader

If people like this I’ll write a part 2 and possibly some sub Art fics in the future. Challengers is all I can think about at the moment and this blonde man is living rent free in my brain.

——————————————————————

‘Come on come on, they can never have too many pictures taken of them!’

Your friend dragged you and your mediocre camera, quite forcefully, to Tashi Duncan’s party. It wasn’t just that you hadn’t been invited and that you weren’t remotely a tennis player it was that Ashley’s lame excuse of ‘they need more photographers’ was patently untrue. Everywhere you looked there were photographers with cameras that cost more than your yearly rent.

‘I’ll get us a drink wait here.’

You watched her confidently insert herself into the queue for the bar, in between endless posters of Tashi Duncan hoodies and Tashi Duncan headbands. If you hadn’t been such a feminist you might have felt a little sick from all the masturbatory self promotion.

In your idleness you decided to people watch. There were no less than a hundred people there already, all dressed elegantly with hair and makeup that no doubt took longer to do than the night would even last. You pulled at your tight dress. Flattering? Definitely. Comfortable? Absolutely not. Ashley had the tennis body, the Tashi Duncan confidence and skill but without the praise or queue of fans. You had your camera.

You hadn’t touched a tennis racket since you were ten years old. These people weren’t your peers they were your betters, including the snobby photographers and perhaps even including Ashely. At least she knew what ‘down the line’ meant.

‘Can we go?’ Your voice sounded bitter as Ashley handed you a cocktail. ‘I’ve got two photoshoots to edit for tomorrow and I don’t even like tennis! Why am I even here?’ As your friend defended her plan to ‘sleep with as many rich tennis players as possible’ your eyes wandered once again, this time landing on a man who needed no introduction.

‘Is that … Art Donaldson?’

It was him, smoking a cigarette by Patrick Zweig dressed for Summer. Fire and ice in the flesh. You suddenly felt the need to readjust your dress, your hair, your earrings. To fidget. To fidget and prepare for the chance he might look in your direction and see what he wanted.

‘Fuck me it’s Zweig.’

As Ashley launched into a thesis on why Patrick was the hottest man she’d ever seen, your eyes bored into the side of Art’s head. His curls fell so perfectly on his forehead but all you could find yourself imagining was messing them up. As your staring breached the line of too far, Ashley tapped your arm. ‘Think I should go talk to him? Flirt a bit? He’s a bit of a man whore, I’m pretty sure I could get him.’ Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the recipient of your staring began to move closer.

It only took a few moments for Art to reach yours and Ashley’s corner of refuge but his eyes never strayed from you. Zweig had followed him like a puppy and whilst you couldn’t have cared less where the brunette chose to stand, you could practically feel Ashley screaming in her head.

‘Aaliyah right? You basically murdered my friend out there yesterday.’ As Ashley corrected Patrick’s memory, you forced your eyes to look at anything that wasn’t Art’s knowing smirk in your direction. It didn’t work, in fact your refusal to make eye contact with the future star had made your feelings glaringly obvious.

You’d watched him play many times, instead of doing your own work, and although you found tennis a little boring the man had you riveted. The ease at which he hit the ball with such force, the little hand movements he’d do during a tie break and his cruel habit of taking his shirt off on hot days … you were hooked.

As he eyed your dress you wondered if he’d seen you, made note of just how many matches you’d been front and centre at. Maybe he knew you were an amateur photographer and perhaps his smirk was intended as a mockery of your being there. Art knew you didn’t belong at thee Tashi Duncan’s after party. You both knew it. He looked at you, finally as you’d lifted your gaze, and cocked his head slightly to the side.

‘So, you don’t like tennis?’

Shit.

‘Oh. You heard that.’

‘Yep.’

His voice was glazed with amusement as he sipped his cold beer, daring you to defend yourself.

‘Ashley was invited,’ you lied with little ease. ‘I’m here as her friend- well I guess also photographer but you all seem to have that covered.’ Both yours and Art’s eyes glanced at the gang of professionals taking Tashi’s photo. She was holding the shimmering trophy as if it was nothing of real value, she had the humble but proud smile down. Art clocked your jealous expression and raised an eyebrow. ‘Tashi not your favourite?’

‘She’s pretty amazing and she looks fucking beautiful tonight I can’t lie. I just, I guess I wish I was that talented.’

Despite her successful flirting to Patrick, Ashley heard your little, sad admission. Mentally you scolded yourself for letting Art see your vulnerable side. Instead of judgement he smiled.

‘Are you not the best at getting front row seats?’

He left off ‘at my matches’ but the point had been made loud and clear. You chose not to react and to ignore him completely. ‘Ashley?’ But when you turned your head to your friend you saw her mouth was occupied. Oh.

Art laughed at his best friend. ‘Seriously? You couldn’t go one night?’ No, Patrick couldn’t and he couldn’t find it in his horny heart to feel guilty for stealing your one friend and escape route from you. The pair, still connected by their lips, hurried away from the party and to some poor fucker’s bedroom. You were alone with Art Donaldson and the party that engulfed the two of you had began to die down.

‘I should go too-‘

‘Wanna go down to the beach with me?’

You couldn’t help but scoff audibly at his request. ‘You don’t even know my name.’

Art’s eyes practically gleamed with cheekiness as he moved towards you. ‘Then tell me.’

‘It’s Y/N.’

With a charming smile he repeated his offer. ‘Y/N… wanna go down to the beach with me?’

If a mind reader had been in attendance you’d have been mortified as your first thought was: Oh god have I even shaved?

The decision to take your heels off had been an impulsive one and an instant regret as you felt the brittle sand rub against your toes. Avoiding the broken glass, you walked into Art’s shoulder and quickly apologised. ‘You’re like a baby deer.’

You perched on the rock overlooking the water that moonlight reached. Art’s eyes were transfixed on you as your hair blew from your shoulders. Surely he was just bored and flirting for fun. But you hadn’t seen him speak to anyone except Patrick before approaching you.

‘What is it about photography?’ Art gestured to the camera you almost forgot you were still wearing around your neck.

‘What is it about tennis?’

Art lit his second cigarette, took a drag and smirked.

‘I’ll let you answer that.’

Much to his elation, your dress had begun to ride up but you hadn’t noticed. You simply dug your toes in the sand and smiled coyly at the blonde. But how to best handle this?

‘Watching you play tennis isn’t like watching other people play tennis.’

Art grinned, only for a moment, but you caught the ego boost in real time. He moved backwards in his chair, outstretching his long legs and looking up at you with keen interest and quiet amusement. ‘Go on.’

Your mind flashed back to his most recent match. His opponent had purposefully coughed every time it was Art’s turn to serve and instead of letting it distract him or doing it back Art had fired the ball, with force, by his head. It had been a warning, not a greatly subtle one but certainly great to watch. The shock on the boys face as he narrowly missed receiving a black eye had made you laugh and you suddenly remembered Art had beamed at you when you had.

‘You’re just really good at it.’

‘Try again.’

He wasn’t making this easy for you but that didn’t mean you had to shower him in compliments, not when he hadn’t so much as asked you your name until prompted. You watched him, completely settled and comfortable in Tashi Duncan’s deck hair and wondered if someone this confident and talented (and knew as much) could possibly be single… unless?

‘Are you and Patrick just friends?’

He twitched ever so slightly at your question before covering his shock with a chuckle.

‘Umm.. yes. Sorry to disappoint.’

You smiled, suddenly feeling more confident now that you’d put him on the spot for the first time that night.

‘Not disappointed.’

Seeing you at ease, seemingly with any answer he had to offer, Art relaxed into his chair again. A moment of silence passed as the two of you listened to the very end of the party above and the seas tumbling waves. The water was just beginning to reach the rock you’d been safely perching on. A sign to leave.

‘I think I should go back to my ho-AAA!’

You’d barely taken two steps before buried broken glass assaulted your feet.

‘Jesus fuck!’

‘Y/N!’

The pain shot through you from toe to head, it settled in between your eyebrows as you frowned, trying not to scream. Art’s face was a picture of panic. He couldn’t help but notice how much pain you were in from putting weight on your foot, which had just begun to bleed as a thought entered his head.

‘I’ll carry you.’

‘I think I can walk.’

You took a hesitant step further but your foot ,in an act of betrayal, buckled under the pain. Giving Art a look of defeat you sighed. ‘Yeah, I think you’re gonna have to.’

You thought it would feel strange, the man whom you’d been watching almost obsessively for months play a sport you despised carrying you to safety. It didn’t. It felt right. His strong arms flexed under your weight as he took confident but cautious steps to Tashi’s party. There wasn’t much left of it. In fact the only people still there were two photographers packing up their lighting equipment and they didn’t give you so much as a second glance.

‘Any chance you secretly are friends with Tashi?’ Art asked, his voice hopeful, hoping he could drop you off to safety. He pursed his lips when you shook your head. Another moment of silence passed through the two of you but this one was different. You craned your neck out to gage the distance before suggesting:

‘My hotel really isn’t far. A mile at most.’

Art smirked for a moment, forgetting what the actual circumstances were. Your foot had stopped bleeding but you didn’t feel like walking. In fact you were rather enjoying Art Donaldson: the knight in shining armour. It was a good look on him.

‘Uber?’

‘Think of it as a workout.’

It wasn’t the recreational workout Art had been hoping for that night but he did it. He carried you and your shoes to your hotel room. The receptionist barely reacted to your new person but of course what did she care? She was probably only concerned with what mess you’d leave the cleaners.

‘67, this is it.’

Art put you down, keeping his arm around your waist for support. He was a little flushed from the exertion and you were flushed from the pain, or perhaps just his wandering hand.

‘Do you want me to st-‘

‘I want you to stay.’ You interrupted him hurriedly, desperate for him to stay. In that moment you didn’t mind if he stayed to read the complimentary bible next to you or if he wanted to fuck you mercilessly in front of the bathroom mirror. You just wanted him close.

At your eagerness, Art smiled following you in. Your hotel room was not too messy for visitors but it certainly hadn’t been expecting any. For a moment you wondered how Ashley was getting on in her room down the hall and if she too had embarrassed herself in front of her favourite tennis player. Somewhat likely.

‘I think seeing as you’ve carried me bleeding you can see me in pyjamas. Give me one se-‘

You gestured to the bathroom and your dress, looking forward to getting out of it but Art shook his head. You froze. His face was one of sheer determination and unwavering confidence, not unlike the look he gave cocky opponents who needed humbling. He closed the gap between you until his chest was inches from yours but blocked by your camera. You took it off, not breaking eye contact, and placed it slowly on the desk behind you.

Just as you thought the only way to break the silence would be with a kiss, Art broke eye contact. ‘Do you have any antiseptic wipes? Anything to clean it?’ You felt your stomach unclench. ‘Yeah.’ Limping slightly, you fetched a packet from the bathroom sink and placed them in Art’s open palm. He gestured to the bed.

‘Sit.’

His order was polite but you felt compelled. Sitting on your own bed as if it was alien, you looked up at him waiting for the next.

‘Foot.’

Art got down on his knees. Your stomach flipped. With careful hands, he held your injured foot and inspected it. You’d never felt so exposed before, the way his eyes engaged with your wound as if it were more fascinating than any match he’d won. There was an unspoken rule for neither of you to speak as he cleaned you. It stung like a bitch but you only let out minor hisses in pain, barely audible to Art but not unnoticeable.

As he took out a plaster, seemingly from thin air, and applied it to your foot he said: ‘Before tonight,’ Ouch. You winced from the pressure he applied. ‘I’d seen you watching me.’ He didn’t look at you, only concentrating on his handiwork and causing you as little pain as possible.

‘Yeah I gathered from all the teasing.’

His voice grew suddenly lower. ‘I’m not talking about tennis matches.’

You were suddenly reminded of a not so distant memory. Ashley had stood you up for lunch, she’d found a better hot date, and you had been in the cafeteria alone. Art had been queuing in front of you, waiting for Patrick and you’d been in awe. What you hadn’t noticed was that he’d sensed your eyes burning holes into the back of his head long before he turned around. He had given you a passing look of recognition and slight amusement before finding his seat next to Patrick.

You imagined alongside that memory were hundreds others. Hundreds of days you’d stared at Art, watched how he span his apples before eating them and the line of his jaw when he drank water in oppressive heat. All the time he had known, you just hadn’t been as subtle as you thought.

‘Oh.’

Art gave you your foot back and sat on the bed beside you. For a moment you couldn’t bare to look at him, incase he disappeared and decided it was funnier to leave you hanging. Your foot was the least of your worries. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d really kissed someone, with feverish need, but you wanted to.

Noticing your inward battle, Art raised his hands almost in defeat. ‘I can leave.’ He meant it, there was no judgement. You turned to him, your eyes meeting his clouded with lust, and recognised that this was a man who needed to be wanted. He wanted to give and receive pleasure, not out of boredom but out of a clawing need for it. If you wanted him to leave then he’d leave but if you wanted him to stay then he’d make the most of it.

Your hand settled atop of his.

‘Don’t.’

Part 2

Masterlist

[chvoswxtch]

Court baby i've waiting for this moment! I have this idea for a fic living rent free in my head. Its Frank x fem!reader. They were in a very cozy and confy moment when the snap happened and reader was blipped! You could write how Frank deald with those five years and with reader coming back. With a lot of angst moments and flufly and maybe spicy after she comes back. I would love if you accept this request! Thank you, I love you ❤️

i'm not gonna lie to you, the blip is my least favorite marvel storyline, but I love you so I put myself and frank through it just for you 🖤

I would say sorry that i'm about to emotionally wreck you but in my defense, you did ask for this so...enjoy or don't

warning: swearing, mentions of blood, violence, guns, & alcohol, heavy angst, very brief allusion to suicide (blink and you miss it) word count: 4.1k

the blip.

A split second. That’s how quickly Frank lost you. He turned his back for a second to refill his mug of coffee, and when he turned back around, you had vanished seemingly into thin air. At first he thought maybe you had gone back into the bedroom to grab a sweater or something. It had been a bit chilly in the kitchen, and you were always cold. But then a few seconds turned into a few minutes, and Frank didn’t hear any shuffling or soft footsteps. He didn’t hear anything at all. The crisp silence had an icy sense of dread trickling down his spine, and when he didn’t hear your sweet voice responding to his cautious calls of your name, he went into a full blown panic.

You were gone.

Year One.

This wasn’t happening again. It couldn’t be. There was no way he had survived losing Maria and the kids just to find you, to let your endless patience and irrevocable empathy fill the gaping void in his chest, only to lose you too. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. Frank didn’t consider himself a good man; he was well aware of and acquainted with his demons. But he didn’t deserve this.

Did he?

It was forty-eight hours before anyone even knew what happened. One giant asshole snapped his fingers, and half the universe’s population ceased to exist. Frank had stopped believing in God a lifetime ago, and he certainly didn’t believe in aliens or otherworldly creatures. He had seen first hand during his time in the Marines that mankind was the real monster. But it didn’t matter that he didn’t believe in it, because it happened, and not even the fucking Avengers could stop it. Hell, half of them were gone too.

Two weeks after the snap, news broke that Thanos had been killed, and that the Infinity Stones were destroyed, but the remaining members of the Avengers were trying to come up with a way to bring everyone back. For months Frank was glued to every news outlet, frantically waiting for even the smallest of updates. Anything was something. He refused to believe that the snap was permanent. The Avengers were going to find a way to bring everyone back. They had to. 

Your pillowcase had stopped smelling like your shampoo, and Frank found himself using it and your body wash just to keep your scent on the sheets. He burned your favorite candles and read your favorite books. He wouldn’t stay gone longer than fifteen minutes in case you finally came home. He wanted to be there when you did. Frank kept himself busy with little projects around the house, things that you had mentioned changing or updating that he had promised he would get around to and never did. Frank swore to himself when you came home, things would be different. 

He would take that trip you wanted to go on. He’d take you to the shelter to pick out a dog like you had been talking about. Maybe you two would finally start a family. Whatever you wanted, he’d give you. He’d find a way to give you the goddamn moon and every single star in the sky if you wanted them. 

As soon as you came home.

But then a year went by, and nothing had changed. The anniversary of the snap came and went, and everyone seemed to give up hope on bringing everyone back, or they just decided to move on and accept that no one was coming back.

But Frank couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He refused to believe you were really gone.

Year Two.

The worst part about the snap was that Frank couldn’t collect his vengeance in blood like he had with his family. The one who took you from him was already dead, and even if he hadn’t been, Frank had no way of reaching him. Thanos was a Titan, someone who was revered as a God to those that followed him, and Frank was just a man. A man poisoned with rage and an insatiable thirst for revenge. So, he did what he was good at. He punished. Even though half the universe’s population was gone, that didn’t mean there weren’t still monsters left on Earth.

Frank killed without mercy or prejudice. There was no sin too harmless for his wrath. His fists collided with skin and bone until there was nothing left but ivory fragments tainted crimson and torn flesh. He didn’t stop, not even when his destructive blows caused his own knuckles to crack. It had gotten to the point where he hardly reached for a gun anymore unless he absolutely had to. He preferred to use his hands or serrated steel. He wanted to inflict every ounce of pain that he felt inside on whoever was stupid enough to get in his way.

It was like he wasn’t even mentally present anymore. His conscience had been shut off somehow, and all that was left was a relentless killing machine. Whenever he ran out of targets in the city, he moved on to hunt in the next one, and the next one, and the next one. He lived primarily out of his van, or whatever dingy motel he came across on the road. He hadn’t stepped foot in your home in almost a year. He couldn’t. It was haunted by your memory, and he couldn’t desecrate the home you two had made together with what he had become.

You would be ashamed of him. You would be disgusted and horrified by the things he had done. That thought echoed in his head as he watched the water continue to run red while he stood under the weak spray of the shower head. He didn’t know what town or even what state he was in. He didn’t know what day of the week it was, or what month it was. He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were gone, and he had nothing left.

Nothing left but the white hot fury that infected his veins and had him seeking out blood like water in the desert.

Year Three.

Frank couldn’t visit you, not like he could Maria and the kids. He couldn’t even have the closure of burying you, because there wasn’t a body. There was no final resting place for you, and he didn’t think that was fucking fair. Today was your birthday, and Frank had been drowning himself in whiskey trying to dilute the painful memories that played in his head like a haunting home movie. 

The angelic sound of your voice as you read him whatever book your nose was buried in that week, your fingers slipping through his dark tresses while he laid his head on your chest and listened in pure content. The feeling of your soft lips on his heated skin and delicate noises of pleasure as your bodies connected like they were made for each other. Your melodic laughter, the silkiness of your skin, slow dancing in the living room with the moon acting as a spotlight. 

All the words he never said. All the promises he didn’t get to keep. All the dreams that wouldn’t come true.

Somehow Frank found himself in a church. He couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in one. Maybe it was Sunday school back when his parents still forced him to go. He had stumbled in, his heavy boots thudding along the aisle, the only other sound coming from the amber liquid sloshing around in the half empty bottle in his hand. He stopped when he got to the front, looking up at the stained glass depictions of angels, until his weary eyes landed on the savior that was nailed to the giant cross.

Frank glared at him for several minutes before hurling the half empty bottle right at the head of the statue, causing a firework explosion of shimmering shards of glass to rain over the altar and various candles that had been lit for loved ones that had passed on. His rough voice boomed throughout the empty space.

“You son of a bitch! Why didn’t you take me, huh? Why not me? She ain’t never done a goddamn thing wrong. I’m the one you want. I’m the one that deserves it. I’m the goddamn killer here, huh? I’m the fuckin’ Punisher. So you bring her back, and you take me!”

Frank started grabbing bibles from the pews and hurling them at the statue with all his strength. In his inebriated state, some of them flew right past the statue and knocked over other small figurines and candlesticks. He let out a guttural war cry every time he threw a new one, and by the time he ran out of steam, he was panting heavily, and tears had formed in his eyes.

Dropping to his knees, he looked up at the melancholic face of the statue that matched his own, and he did something he hadn’t done in years. 

He prayed.

“Please. Please, just bring her back. I’ll take her place…I won’t fight…just…just bring her back. I’m beggin’ you…I’ll do whatever it takes, alright? Just…you can’t…you can’t do this to me again. You can’t. I may deserve it, but she don’t…okay so just…just…”

Frank was tired. Three years without you was too long. He hadn’t been able to find the peace that he had found after Maria and the kids. He spent a year waging war on everyone, and it did nothing. He spent the last few months drowning himself in booze, and it didn’t help. Nothing helped, and there was nothing to keep him going. You were gone, and you weren’t coming back, so what the hell was he still getting out of bed every morning for?

Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Frank pulled out a revolver and stared down at it. There was only one bullet in the chamber, and it wasn’t meant for anyone but him. If God wouldn’t bring you back, then he would go to you.

As soon as he cocked the hammer, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“You don’t wanna do that, Frank.”

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Frank squinted his blurry eyes before turning back around, shaking his head with a dry laugh.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. Half the goddamn universe gets wiped out, and I get stuck with the fuckin’ altar boy.”

“Frank-”

“Mind your fuckin’ business, Red. Just cause there’s only one bullet in this chamber don’t mean I won’t handle your ass.”

Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few cautious steps towards where Frank was on his knees in front of the altar.

“You’re drunk-”

“And you’re fuckin’ relentless. Go home.”

“Look, whoever you lost-”

“Whoever I lost? I lost everyone, Red!”

Matt didn’t flinch when Frank suddenly rose from his knees and stormed over towards him, his loud voice booming in the silence as they stood barely an inch apart. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, his lips pursed as he grit his teeth.

“You think you’re the only one that’s lost everyone you’ve ever cared about, Frank?”

“Then what the hell are you waitin’ on, huh? You too much of a fuckin’ pussy to do it yourself, huh? That it? You need me to do it for you?”

Matt carefully reached out to place his hand on Frank’s arm, lowering the gun that was in his hand while he spoke in a calm voice.

“I don’t want to die, Frank. And I don’t think you want to either. You just want the pain to stop. But if you do this, it’s permanent, and you’ll never know if she came back.”

Frank shook his head and blew a puff of hot air out of his lips, his dark brows scrunching up in pure annoyance and frustration.

“She ain’t comin’ back-”

“You don’t know that. She’s not dead, Frank. She’s lost. Maybe she’s with Karen and Foggy. Frank, someone came down from another planet and wiped out half the universe. Is it so crazy to think that could be undone?”

The anger that was simmering inside Frank from Matt’s intrusion seemed to be burning through the alcohol in his system, and Matt’s question was igniting a tiny ember of hope that Frank wasn’t prepared to tend to. His body physically deflated as he dropped his head between his broad shoulders. There was a heavy tide of tears on his bottom lash line threatening to flood at any moment.

“Don’t do that.”

“You have to have faith, Frank-“

“I don’t, Red.”

“I do.”

Frank didn’t know when Matt managed to slip the revolver from his grasp, but he didn’t feel the weight of a permanent decision in his palm anymore. Matt had planted a tiny seed of hope, and what if’s were taking over Frank’s brain like wild ivy. 

What if there was a chance you could come back? Matt had a point, you weren’t dead. Not really. Even if the probability of it happening was one in a million, didn’t Frank owe you the same unwavering patience you had always shown him?

“Look Frank, just…give me a year. One year to show you things can be different. If you still want to make that call in a year, I won’t stop you. I’ll leave you alone. But Frank…you’ve gotten through this once before. You can do this again. If not for yourself, just try for her.”

A year. A year was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Frank had already been without you for three years now. 

What was one more?

Year Four.

Matt’s apartment was fucking obnoxious due to that goddamn billboard across the street, but it was better than the shitty motels Frank had been staying in. He still couldn’t step foot in the home he had shared with you. It had been three years now, and even though he wasn’t fully convinced you could come back, he couldn’t let it go. Everything that was you was there, and if he sold the house, that meant every trace of you and your existence was gone.

Matt had one rule for Frank staying with him; no killing. For a week, Frank lounged on the couch trying to figure out what to do with himself. He would start to read a book, but could never get more than a few pages because he remembered how much you loved to read, and then he would get stuck staring at the pages while memories of you played on loop in his head. There wasn’t a TV because Matt didn’t have use for one, and Frank didn’t care to watch anything anyway. It didn’t take long for Frank to go stir crazy. He had never been good at staying idle.

While Matt was out making the world a better place, Frank had managed to find a construction job. Busting down walls all day long allowed him to get his pent up anger out while not breaking Matt’s golden rule. Most days it felt like Frank was on autopilot. He woke up, went to the job site, smashed a sledgehammer through a wall until his hands bled, came home, tried to sleep, inevitably had a nightmare about losing you, and laid on the couch staring blankly up at the ceiling until the sun rose.

Every single day was a repeat of the last until they started to blur together. Frank didn’t speak to anyone at the job sites. He didn’t speak to anyone at all. Between Matt’s busy court schedule and his nightly patrols, they didn’t see each other often, and even when they were home at the same time, Frank still hardly spoke to him. He wasn’t sleeping, he barely ate, and on the days he had off, he didn’t leave the couch. He felt like a hollow shell of the man he used to be.

Matt knew what he was going through. Hell, he had been there himself after the second time he lost Elektra. He knew what it felt like to lose the person you loved most in this world, and that had happened to Frank twice now. He did his best to be patient, but after four months, he couldn’t take it anymore. Matt was fortunate that he’d had people that helped him combat his depression to find his way back to himself, but Frank didn’t have a soul in his corner.

Except for Matt. 

And even though Frank wasn’t shy about not wanting Matt’s help, Matt didn’t care. Frank could be stubborn, but he didn’t have the energy or the drive to match Matt’s stubbornness, and Matt used that to his advantage. He was relentless in pushing Frank to participate in life again. He purposely antagonized Frank, even if it meant being reduced to a human punching bag, because that meant Frank was still in there somewhere.

Matt started small in getting him out of the apartment, like guilt tripping Frank into joining him on trips to the grocery store.

“You’re not gonna help your blind roommate get groceries? You know, a lot of items don’t come with braille labels. So when I die because I accidentally put bleach in my coffee instead of creamer, you have to say nice things about me at my funeral.”

“You don’t need labels, Red. You got that goddamn bloodhound nose. Would you stop lookin’ at me like that? Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine. Get your fuckin’ jacket and let’s go.”

After a while, he even managed to get Frank to join him at Fogwell’s from time to time.

“No wonder you became a goddamn lawyer. All you know how to do is fuckin’ argue, makes sense you made a livin’ outta it.”

“I’m not arguing, Frank. If we got in the ring, you would lose. That’s a fact. You don’t know how to box, you just know how to run at people and slam them into things. And you’re too bulky to move as fast as me. None of that is an argument, it’s a simple observation.”

“Why don’t you observe your ass in that ring so I can shut you the fuck up, Red.”

The more time they spent together, and the more Frank put in an effort to move forward one step at a time, the less empty he felt. The nightmares still came every so often, and there were days where the weight of your absence was too much for him to bear, but for the first time in four years, he didn’t feel so hopeless.

He could think about you without breaking down. He could see something that reminded him of you, and it warmed his heart instead of ripping it out. He had finally reached a point where he had slowly crawled out of the deep pit of grief that he had been digging for the past four years.

As much as he hated to admit it, Matt had helped him find a semblance of peace.

Year Five.

The sound of a dog barking caught Frank’s attention. He pulled his head out from under the hood of his truck, looking over at the grey and white pitbull that was standing a few feet away from the front door of the house you and Frank had lived in together that he’d finally moved back into six months ago. He glanced between the front door and the dog with his thick brows furrowed.

“What is it, Daisy?”

The dog turned her head when she heard Frank’s voice, the movement so fast it made her long velvet ears flop. She turned her attention back to the door and continued to bark. Something inside had caught her attention. Eyeing the front door warily, Frank rubbed his grease stained hands off on a small rag and walked over towards where Daisy was, kneeling down beside her to gently scratch that spot between her ears that she loved.

“Hey, shh shh shh. C’mon now, what’s got you so worked up, huh? What do you think is inside, huh? You smellin’ that-”

The sound of the front door opening caught Frank’s attention, and he instantly snapped his head in the direction of it. All of a sudden, his warm brown eyes went wide, and time seemed to freeze in that very moment. 

“Sweetheart?”

His quiet whisper was dripped in disbelief. There you were, looking exactly the same as the day you had vanished, looking between Frank and Daisy with an expression of surprise and perplexment.

“Frank?”

God, your voice. It had been five years since he had last heard it. That was all the confirmation he needed that this was real. You were real. You were really home. 

Without wasting a second, Frank stood and ran over towards you, tears filling up his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your frame and hugged you as tightly as physically possible. His heart was thrashing against his ribcage, and he was terrified this was just a vivid dream, but then he inhaled the scent of your shampoo intermingled with your perfume, felt your hands gently pressing against his back, and heard your soft angelic laughter.

“Frankie…baby…you’re crushing me.”

Frank pulled back only slightly, bringing his large hands up to cup your face to study your features, taking in every single inch of you. He caught the way you frowned softly, looking up at him in pure concern when thick tears streamed down his cheeks. You lifted your hand to delicately brush them away with the featherlight touch of your fingers.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re really here.”

“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be? Baby, why are you so upset?”

As you ran your hands through his long grown out curls, a crease of bewilderment nestled in between your brows when you took in his appearance.

“Wait…what happened to your hair? It was just short five seconds ago…and you didn’t have a beard. How…how did you do that? And when did we get a dog? Frank, what-”

Five seconds ago. 

Is that all it was for you? Frank could see the visible disorientation on your delicate features, and he had a lot of questions of his own, but right now nothing mattered but you. He leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every emotion he had felt in the past five years into it. He kissed you like the world could end at any moment, because for him it did the day you vanished.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and let out a deep exhale of relief.

“You…you were gone, sweetheart. You were gone a long time…a long goddamn time.”

“Gone? What-”

“I’ll explain everythin’, I promise. Just…just give me a minute, please. Just let me hold you for a minute, can you do that for me, baby? Please?”

Frank had always been able to read you like a book, and he could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t just confused. Hearing you had been gone for a long time infused you with a sense of panic and uncertainty. But you trusted Frank, and you knew whatever hard truth he was going to tell you, he wouldn’t let you go through it alone.

“Okay.”

As Frank embraced you again, you suddenly felt a pair of paws on your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the happy dog wagging its tail while looking between you and Frank. Reaching down, you gently pet the side of her face with a soft smile.

“Hi there, precious.”

“Daisy.”

Glancing up at Frank, your lips parted slightly when Frank told you her name. A soft smile covered his lips, the first smile to do so in five years. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear slowly.

“You always said if we got a dog and it was a girl, you wanted to name her Daisy.”

Tears welled up along your bottom lash line as you looked up at Frank, a gentle smile covering your lips. After a moment, you glanced away from Frank to look at Daisy again, letting out a soft laugh.

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Daisy.”

Frank gave your waist a light squeeze, leaning in to press a soft lingering kiss to your cheek.

“And we’ve been waitin’ a long time for you. Welcome home, sweetheart.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

[trainsinanime]

Is there a specific scientific term for what I'll call "harm construction", meaning "thinking of ways that something harms someone in order to condemn it"? There must be, right? I see it all the time and it's not new. Let me give some examples in random order.

One of the first cases where I really remember it was at least a decade ago, an online article by a British newspaper, about how an online store had put a pole dancing pole in their toys section. A bit of an embarrassing mistake but nothing more.

However, that article provided several quotes from a British couple who said they were very worried, because their kid could have seen that. It seems pretty clear that their kid did not, in fact, actually see it, but the newspaper treated their concern as if it was a genuine thing to worry about. It was utterly ridiculous.

A more recent example is a call-out ask I received a few months ago and, of course, immediately deleted, but it's still been living rent-free in my head since then, because it was so horribly bad. I'll not repeat the exact wording, but they were annoyed that their victim blog (which I don't follow and haven't for years, if ever, and they don't follow me) was annoying and sometimes said mean things. They very ineptly tried to explain that this might have been part of the reasons why someone else, completely unrelated, sent out hate messages to yet another person. That was the harm that was so big that it supposedly justified a targeted harassment campaign. (If you're the person who wrote that call-out ask, please rethink your life. You were only increasing the hate in the world, not making anything better. I suspect the sender wasn't anyone who actually follows me, but just in case).

The biggest and most prominent example of harm construction right now is of course all about trans people, bathrooms and school sports. Conservatives and TERFs alike need a reason to oppose the existence of trans people beyond "I personally find them weird", because saying that out loud gets them correctly branded as bigots. How do you turn "let's be really mean to a marginalised group" into a progressive cause? By saying that the existence of this group causes harm. The problem with that is that trans people existing does not actually cause any harm, it's literally fine.

So in an effort to construct harm after all, they have searched far and wide for something that trans people could even theoretically damage, and the only things they managed to come up with are "there might be someone with unexpected genitals behind that bathroom stall door" and "the sanctity of gender-segregated sports". If it weren't for their cultural and political power then it would almost be funny how little potential harm they managed to find and how much they have to amplify it. They're just another couple in the newspaper worried that their kid might potentially see a website.

If you look for it, harm construction is everywhere, because we all sort of agree on a surface level that dividing people into "normal, acceptable" and "weird, must be punished" isn't nice, but the instinct to punish people for being "weird" is still alive and well and many people refuse to question it.

At a completely different end, anytime someone uses the word "normalisation" about a fanfic on Ao3, that's another example. We all know making blorbos do weird things doesn't actually hurt anybody (assuming proper tagging and so on), but we still want to punish people who do it wrong. So we construct harm, by arguing that seeing something on Ao3 might "normalise" the thing and make it more likely that someone will do it in real life.

These examples are very different, at very different ends of almost all scales of power and cultural influence and meaning, but the core idea is always the same. So, yeah. There must be a better term for this.

[affableramen]

this idea has been living rent-free in my mind jealous!pantalone early stage of relationship, spy and criminal themes

Jealous!Pantalone was coming up with a plan to expose an evil merchant who had been plotting something big and cruel against Teyvat economy. This particular merchant abused power and destroyed many innocent lives. Yet the mastermind Pantalone is, he created a strategy to take over this nasty man’s plans and finally unveil his dirty business. Yet this whole plan had a big flaw - your involvement.

Pantalone, Tartaglia and Arlecchino were all at his desk while he was explaining the rules of the “game” he plotted against the merchant. At last, you enter the room but, good god—what are you wearing?

“I’ll be the bait.” In extraordinary clothes you shine like a precious diamond, and the glittery makeup makes your rounded eyes the centre of attention.

Arlecchino looks at you with approving and slightly proud look - what a bold move you’ve taken for the sake of Fatui’s secret mission. Tartaglia agreed too:

“She is the only one who can do it”, though his words sounded ambiguous and indefinite, Tartaglia coughed into his fist and explained, “I mean… She kind of seduced you too, Pantalone. I think she can work her charms on another merchant just fine.”

“And besides - it will be nothing more than just shallow flirt.” Arlecchino glared at Tartaglia who just could not shut his mouth in time.

Pantalone stopped writing and almost dropped his pen but gripped it immediately then.

“Absolutely not. We’re not doing it.”

He sounded more gloomy and grumpy than usual, not a hint from the familiar friendly-mannered and charming Harbinger.

Everyone stared at him like if he were an idiot.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Y/N won’t be the bait. I do not allow it, even if it is simply for mission purposes.”

“I will simply talk to the target and look pretty, nothing more nothing less”, you finally said, but that did little to convince Pantalone. He shook his head, the Knave and Childe fell silent.

“Are you jealous?” you crossed your arms.

“No.” Pantalone turned away and continued drawing the plan. “This task is extremely dangerous, I refuse Y/N’s involvement.”

“Yes, he obviously is. If I were him, I would feel jealous too”, said Arlecchino nonchalantly.

“Come on, give her a try, Pants. We don’t really have another choice. There should be a beautiful lady involved in such missions. As if someone would die of it!” He rolled his eyes.

Arlecchino gave you a smirk.

“What are you two blabbering about?!” Pantalone finally exploded. “I won’t let her go—not looking like…this!”

“Looking like…what exactly?” Arlecchino was not happy with his choice of words.

To shift the attention in some way and prevent a conflict you used the red lipstick and rubbed your lips together.

“Then it’s decided.”

This little action made Pantalone bite his own dehydrated lips as the sight of you was so intoxicating.

“Is that enough to charm our target?”

“Too much for some greedy old man.” Pantalone responded earlier than Tartaglia or Arlecchino could open their mouths.

“Relax.” You said to him silently.

“How am I supposed to—when you’re going to work your charms on another man?”

“We need it for a job. We need it to take the damn criminal down.”

Pantalone hit the desk with his fist furiously.

“Fuck the plan, I don’t want to sit and watch you flirt with an old jerk.”

Arlecchino and Tartaglia gave each other a knowing glance and left the room.

“You two decide it between yourselves.”

When everyone left Pantalone grabbed you by your hips and set you on top of his desk and kissed you in the lips passionately.

“Stop—come on—you’ll ruin my makeup!”

He only stopped for a second to look at your face again before proceeding to kiss you more anxious and desperate. After a while he pulled away, breathing heavily, like a pathetic jealous old man he is.

“You may flirt with the target but under one condition”, still gasping for breath profusely he says quietly, his fingers lingering on your shoulders as if he were discreetly trying to hug you.

“What is it, [Pantalone's real name]? What are you afraid of?”

One hand appeared on your cheek and he stroked it gently and affectionately.

“You’re going to seduce me later.”

“You’re unbelievable!” You chuckled under your breath. The audacity and bluntness of this man were insufferable. “But I promise to stay safe and come back to you after this all ends.”

[romanticintheory]

Okay but could u write something fluffy with soap. Tbh I feel like he'd be the best friend to lovers kinda thing.

AND YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT i love friends to lovers so much guys u don't understand :(

also, i realize now that this isn't super fluff-heavy!! apologies </3 i got carried away.

johnny "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

warnings: horrid scottish slang from a non-scot (i am sincerely sorry), my writing from 2 am on three hours of sleep (also sincerely sorry)

-

-best friend to lovers with soap except there wasn't really a specific moment you two become each other's. it just... kind of happened.

-growing up with him and supporting his dreams to be a soldier while he supported yours. the first time he came back from a mission, you were the first person he wanted to see once he was allowed back home.

-you used to fuss over any injuries he got from being himself as a little kid, and the worry only heightened when he'd come back from missions with real wounds.

-his mom would always have a cheeky smile seeing you two together. she never said it, but it was always hinted in the way she acted. she was always talking to johnny about how you were such an impressive and loyal young person, often doting on you and insisting you stay for dinner (which, of course, you couldn't refuse).

-the first time johnny started dating someone, it was hard for you to deal with, but it got easier the more it happened.

-what you didn't know was johnny would take it even worse whenever you told him you started dating someone. he'd act all proud and protective in a brotherly fashion, but behind closed doors he was scowling to himself without knowing why.

-one day, you're visiting him in his apartment after he had been away for a few months. you're strangely more subdued than usual, and of course he notices.

-"hey," he calls to you softly, a strange contrast to his usual loud self. "what's wrong?"

-"nothing, don't worry about it," you reassure him, fiddling with the little plushie he got you from his travels--one of the many trinkets he's gotten for you. he always says it's to make up for the fact that he won't be there to bother you in person, but it's actually because every precious little thing he sees reminds him of you.

-"ah ken you're lying," he tells you in a warning tone.

-"i got broken up with, is all," you admit, turning your head away from him.

-"what?" he booms incredulously. how could anyone leave you? "is he insane? after getting an apartment together?"

-"there was this girl from his work and, well, i don't know," you shrugged, fighting back the tears you thought had dried days ago. "he wants the apartment. i mean, he did pay for more of it so-"

-"come live with me."

-it was your turn to be in disbelief, turning your head to face him with a confused look on your face.

-"what?"

-"th' place is empty with me at work. no rent, 's away from yer stupid ex, and ye get to be around me," he added jokingly. you rolled your eyes, but how could you not take him up on his offer?

-from then on, you're living with your best friend and taking care of the place while he's away. if you're staying rent-free, the least you could do was try and be as neat as possible (he insisted it was okay with the place looked like it was lived in, but you refused).

-when he'd come back from his missions, he'd still shower you in little gifts he'd get along the way when possible. you always tried to have some kind of meal ready for him, too.

-"you're always cooking for us, a'm feeling like i should do it sometime," he says, already knowing the answer to that proposal.

-"absolutely not." (the one time you let him cook was when you were both in college. he caught a pan on fire, somehow.)

-"you hurt me!"

-"oh, please."

-eventually, the routine becomes more and more domestic to the two of you. soap's mother always calls out how you two are living like a married couple, but the both of you just laugh it off like neither of you have noticed.

-you eventually notice changes in johnny's gifts. it went from gag gifts and plushies to little pieces of jewelry or intricate pens. sometimes you even think you catch him staring at you, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. he hasn't mentioned being interested in anyone in a while, either.

-it all comes to a head when johnny doesn't come home the day he said he would. sure, it happened at times, but this was the longest amount of time he's been late.

-eventually, he finally walks through the door with too many injuries, a bruise on his lip, and walking with a rough limp.

-you tend to him immediately, of course, interrogating him on what his doctor told him he should do to take care of his healing wounds. the rest of the night goes just like how the others have gone, with you making sure he's fed, warm, and resting.

-by the time you're closing his window for him, you're absolutely exhausted. you had barely gotten any sleep because of johnny's delayed return. normally, you would've let him do more for himself, but the extent of his injuries was worrying you.

-"ye ken am alright, aye?" he asks you in that low, rich voice, searching your eyes for something other than worry and sleepiness. he's sitting up in his bed by the time you walk back to him (despite the fact that you told him to lay down).

-"you're injured. you came home late."

-"what? ye have no faith in me?" he mocks hurt, trying to put a smile on your face or at least get an exhale of amusement out of you, but you weren't in the mood. he could tell by the way you didn't respond and the permanent but subtle frown on your face.

-"i know you're good at your job, johnny," you finally say, ready to call it a night.

-"good. then ye know i'll always come back home to ye, aye?"

-you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, too tired to overthink about what he just said.

-"come here," he orders quietly, reaching out to you.

-gently, he coaxes you into laying next to him. the last time you ever slept in the same bed as johnny was when you two were kids. you were having a sleepover at his house with you in his bed and him on a spare mattress. you had a nightmare so bad it woke johnny up, but instead of brushing it off and making a joke of it, he jumped into bed with you and hugged you protectively. he said it was a good way to train for becoming a soldier, and you couldn't help but snort with laughter.

-just like back then, you had an easy time falling asleep in his arms, now.

-you woke up that morning well-rested and still encased in johnny's arms, which was impressive considering the fact that most times he sleeps in a position that looks like he flung himself across the bed.

-when he wakes up, you sit up with the intention getting breakfast up and running, but johnny doesn't like that idea.

-"johnny, it's almost eleven. we have to eat something," you chide, trying to get out of his impossibly strong grasp.

-"ye get all sad when am gone but yer trying to leave, now?"

-"well, i suppose if you're well enough to joke, you're well enough to clean the rest of the house and cook, yeah?"

-he lets go of you immediately in a comical fashion, and you have to catch yourself as you hurl out of bed from the built momentum of your escape. you look back at him with a seriously? look on your face as he laughs at your near fall.

-"doesn't that hurt?" you question him, remembering the bruise and cut near his lips and throat.

-"maybe a little," he admits. "kiss it better?"

-the grin on his face makes you think he was setting you up for that one. how could he be so confident?

-just like the times when his mother called you two a married couple, you laughed it off and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.

-that wasn't the only time johnny's behavior changed noticeably. now, his longing stares at you were more blatant than ever. he'd hold you by the waist if he was moving past you and even told someone flirting with him "oh, i've got someone at home," while he was on call with you on the other end.

-what more could you do than accept it? it wasn't like you didn't like it, anyway.

-one night, you're both in the dining room with you standing and him sitting down on a chair. his hands are on your waist with his legs on either side of you as you reapply a band-aid to his temple (something he could very well do on his own, but any excuse to be close to you, right?).

-as you finish putting it on, your attention draws itself to his lip nearly healed. gently ghosting your finger across the barely visible bruise, you murmur, "good to see this one's basically healed."

-"awe, but it isn't," he corrects you, a slight pout on his face.

-"it isn't?"

-"no, still hurts like hell." you should've seen this one coming. "kiss it better?"

-"that's the second time you've asked me," you were rolling your eyes as you withdrew your hand from his face, but he caught your hand in his.

-"am being serious, (n/n), only a kiss'll make it better," he insists, that damn smile back on his face.

-you couldn't help but wonder if he was actually being serious or just pulling your leg.

-"how could you be so sure?" you challenged him.

-"seen it in ma dreams." oh, that was a funny one.

-"you dream about kissing people to heal your wounds?" you ask through the remnants of your laughter, but he's still looking at you with that same far-off smile on his face.

-"no, just of you."

-there's a pause between the two of you as you process what he said.

-"oh."

-he squeezes your hand with an expectant look in his eyes, like he knew you were head over heels just as much as he was for you.

-you cleared your throat and tried to ignore the searing burning in your cheeks. "well, i guess if you dreamt it, it must be true," you tell him.

-he places his unoccupied hand under your chin and guides your face to his, but he doesn't close the gap. it was like he was waiting--making sure you really wanted to go through with this.

-but you do, so you press your lips to his and he lets go of your face to put his palm on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer toward him.

-later that night, when you're back in his arms watching your guys' favorite show and he's calling his mother to tell her the news, you can hear her shrieks of excitement coming through the phone.

-the only thing you don't hear is when she asks, "when's th' wedding?"

-"soon, hopefully," he looks at you leaning against him, head pressed against his shoulder and arm clinging to his like it was meant to be. "but there's no rush. a've waited this long, aye?"

[gloster]

FAVORITE FANFICS OF 2024

2024 is/will/already over....and dear gosh, this year really kicked my butt. Drained me dry. Did a number on me mentally, emotionally, and even my wallet took too many hits. But I live to see another day & enter another year.

As always, the things helped me get through this year was friends both fandom & IRL, good movies, good shows, good music from familiar favs with new albums to KPOP, and of course FANFICS.

Every year fanfic writers both familiar & new to me blow me away with their talent, their writing, their brilliance. And every year I always do this traditional post to give them their flowers. Hence, the reason for this sweet lil' post of mine.

This is a little Tumblr tradition I've been doing now for a whooping 6 years & I look forward to it every time. It's my own favorite of fanfic rec lists. I did ones for 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, & 2023 if you're interested.

Without further ado, here are my favs.

1). however wild by @sayesayes & @noxarcanaart (steddie)

Summary: Prince Steve has always been told to stay out of the forest. And he does… when he’s awake.

This story 🖤this story🖤 this story 🖤this story 🖤 This beautiful, beautiful, incredibly addicting dark jewel is the reason why I was sucked into the steddie fandom- the amazingness that is this story, the beautiful fanart done by @noxarcanaart, & my bestie @dreamydrarry who was determined to pull me into the steddie ship b/c she needed a friend to gush with.

Fun fact. I saved this story on my marked for later for my friend @dreamydrarry b/c this story sounded right up her alley. However, I was too intrigued, particularly thanks to the key word: fae. I love fae. That's one of my magical creatures to read about in fantasy, so whenever I see it mentioned in a story, I have to read. For this one, I decided to read it. And I've never been the same again.

This story was just a masterpiece. A pure masterpiece from beginning to end, living rent-free in my head where I keep thinking about it, Prince Steve being so gentle & brave, fae-Eddie being wicked one second and so devoted the next.

I purposefully delayed my reading because I didn't want it to end. And once I finished, I immediately hopped on to see what other steddie stories @sayesayes had.

Honorable mentions:

genius loci

Flight Risk

locust year

(there is) thunder in our hearts

girlskin

too good to be true

daddy talk series

2). you might have some bruises (and a few scars) by @newtonsheffield (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: Matrimony- Gentleman, 27, seeking eligible lady. Respectable income made from farming livestock and barley in Aubrey, Kent. Gentleman lives with, and provides for six younger siblings and is seeking a wife who would tend to their care and education first and foremost. Family is very important and as such would be willing to provide a living for the lady’s family should this be required. Please send responses through Mrs M Williams, Aubrey village. -Mr A E Bridgerton

OR

Dear Mr Bridgerton, I hope this letter finds both you and your family well as I know the end of Winter tends to lend itself to small children finding themselves unwell. I am writing with regards to the advertisement I noted in the newspaper this past Sunday. I am six and twenty and reside in Somerset, where I grew up, with my mother.

OR

Anthony is a handsome farmer in need of a mother for his younger siblings and no time for courting

OR

The marriage of convenience AU no one needed

Once upon a time, I used to despise marriage being used as a trope in stories from arranged marriages to marriages of convenience. As usual- fanfics came along and completely changed my mind. This story is an example of that. This story also made me more open-minded to farming and farmers in stories, which I never thought of before until I stumbled across this story.

@newtonsheffieldis that writer, especially for the kathony/kanthony fandom, feeding us well with the content and love the damn show refuses to give our favs.

Just when I think I can't love Kate & Anthony anymore, this story deepened my love 100000x fold.

Honorable mentions:

Cupboards

(I feel) the lavender haze creeping up on me

3). I know I've kissed you before (Can I try again) by @transmascsteveharrington (steddie)

Summary: “Still not graduated, Harrington?”

It’s something Eddie would have said teasingly when they were teens. Steve would have smacked him on the shoulder, affectionately calling him an asshole before being pulled into an apologetic kiss. But they are not teenagers anymore and Eddie’s voice lacks any of the warmth that used to be reserved for Steve. Now, it’s just loaded with resentment, which, yeah, is a fair reaction.

“I…eh…work here now,” Steve says lamely and points at his office door. “Guidance counselor.”

or: 14 years after his first big heartbreak, Steve's life is relatively stable. It's been two years since the tragic incident that led to him becoming Dustin's guardian, both of them slowly healing. He is doing amazing at his job and his social life is great. Of course, that's when a person from Steve's past has to come and shake everything up.

OH. MY. GOSH. THIS STORY-THIS STORY-THIS STORY-THIS STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Best way I can describe this story is the famous Lady Gaga meme: talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it.

Second chance romance is incredibly hard to do, which many try (particularly published authors) and very few can pull off. This story did it well where my heart was lifted, speared, crushed, sewed-up, & melted in an orderly fashion.

4). Living The Unknown Dream by @blushweddinggowns (steddie)

Summary: “How are you feeling?” Steve asked, all wide-eyed and caring.

Eddie gaped at him, fully aware that his entire face must be red. He was trying to form words, he really was, but Steve single handedly put the brakes on that.

Why was Steve Harrington holding his hand? Why was Steve Harrington calling him baby ?

Why did he kiss him, like it was the most natural thing in the world?

Only fanfic writers. Only fanfic writers can take tropes that usually don't tend to stick and turn them into brilliant stories. Amnesia trope is one I've grown to loathe after getting burnt- and incredibly frustrated by it- too many times in other stories. But with this one, I was too intrigued and oh how I fell. Oh how I was proven wrong. And I'm so happy for it.

Yet another story that just deepened my love for a ship that I already carried such deep love for, but then this story came along and it increased 1000000000x.

5). The Yellow Tulips of Texas by @folklauerate (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: Kate runs into a store to get out of the rain, and runs right into a southern gentleman.

(or Texas!Anthony and New Yorker!Kate fall in love)

“You should go,” He says, drawl somehow even stronger now, or is she imagining it? “Most beautiful place on God’s green earth.”

She snorts.

“You laugh now, but just you wait,” He says. “You’ll see, one day.”

“What makes you so sure I’ll go to Texas?”

She has a feeling she knows why he’s so sure, but she asks anyway.

He grins at her.

“A man just knows these things, honey.”

For y'all who didn't think you couldn't be anymore thirsty for Mr. Anthony Bridgerton/ Jonathon Bailey, BEHOLD *presents story in full gusto*. Be Prepared. This story will make you perch for him because 🥵🥵🥵

I do not care for age gap romances. I really don't. Most of what I read usually rub me the wrong way, but the way this one was done, I was greatly impressed. Partially because of their ages where Kate is in her mid-20s & Anthony in his 40s, which isn't too bad. Partially because the writer just knows their stuff and makes magic.

It's because of this story I started hunting for more age-gap romances.

Honorable mentions:

lost in your current like a priceless wine

The MILF in 2B

6). Come Away with Me by FloralUmbrella (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: Anthony and Kate whisk away on their honeymoon. An exploration into the world of intimacy and marriage ensues.

If you are like me, you weren't that particularly impressed with season 3 of Bridgerton for a number of reasons. Including the very very limited scenes of kathony/kanthony, and lack of attention they were given both on-and-off screen.

It's time like this when fanfic writers come through & deliver the content we so desperately need. This story gives us the honeymoon period we were denied in the show, where we see our fav just fall deeper and deeper in love while also learning more about each other.

7). When You Kiss Me (What A Lovely Way To Burn) by @femmequixotic (drarry)

Summary: A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough.

An oldie but such a good good goodie. Listen I will always advocate for older fanfics and giving them a chance because you can find some good treasures.

Nothing is more better than going to a story you've been saving forever and it ending up being so much better than expected. Confident Draco in drag, trying to bury the ghosts of his past. Harry stumbling across his club and needing an escape. It's so so so so good.

8). The Librarian by library_fireplace (drarry)

Summary: Draco Malfoy is a reference librarian at a small branch of Britain's wizarding public library system. Harry Potter needs help finding the romance section.

~*~

“Malfoy,” Potter said, slowly. “When did you read The Dragon Tamer?”

Draco felt himself turning pink, and then red. He hadn’t meant to give himself away quite that much, but he also knew that Potter suspected him of following his reading history. He had been found out for his snooping. “I —“ he stuttered embarrassingly, and wanted to melt away into the floor behind the desk. “A few weeks ago, now.”

“And how many romances had you read before that?” Potter pressed, now smirking again, knowingly this time, leaning forward with his arms crossed on the desk. Draco felt himself break out in a shiver that he hoped wouldn’t turn into a sweat.

“Er… None, I’m afraid,” he found himself admitting, even though he had really meant to lie.

“Draco,” Potter smiled. “Did you read it just because I had read it?”

Draco scoffed audibly, but very unconvincingly. “No!”

“I think you did.”

Books have the power to bring people together, even helping old rivals find common ground- and more- within the wonders that lay in their pages. Including some good old smutty smutty.

It's a tale as old as time. Stuffy librarian who believes in "fine literature" A hardcore, shameless romance reader who loves their smut and isn't afraid to show it. This story already was promising featuring Draco as a librarian who has a perfect system for organizing his books. But having Harry be a romance reader whose big stack intrigues Draco into reading, having him fall hard...it's PRICELESS.

9). blood is an aphrodisiac by @cuips-not-cute (steddie)

Summary: There’s a few things Eddie notices when he wakes up.

One, he bites his tongue. It hurts. Of course. The weird thing, though, is he doesn’t taste blood. But he knows he bit it hard and it’s throbbing behind his teeth. He tastes something, and his mouth feels wet but there’s no metallic flavor (metal. He likes metal. He’s remembering). It’s smoother. More earthy.

Two. He’s alone. Completely. No Dustin. Or Robin or Nancy or Steve or anyone.

Three. He’s sore. His whole body aches, his skin is thrumming with it. His neck especially, and his sides like where Steve was bitten, too.

Four. He’s got to blink a couple times to realize this one. Let his eyes adjust from the pitch black of being closed to the dim blue haze of the Upside Down. Yeah, that’s what he realizes. He’s still there.

Five. He’s fuckin’ starving.

In which Eddie wakes up with sharp teeth, Steve has a thing for tongue piercings, and it takes a while for them to figure out what all of that means.

I'm convinced this story was the starter behind the vampire/kas!Eddie fanart I be seeing. Like everytime I see vampire Eddie, I think of this story and the biggest smile spread across my face.

I binged this story. I read it in one sitting-and immediately wanted to go back to the beginning to read all over again. This story felt like one of those urban fantasies, where it's modern day, vampires exist, but they're integrated into modern world. Also despite the fangs and the blood thrist, vampirism has very little to do with the plot and is a stepping stone for these two getting together.

I just how Steve wasn't at all shy about his attraction and just want with it. Meanwhile Eddie is just like 😨🤯😶 I LOVE IT.

Honorable mention:

he could be brave

blinking red light

10). The Stutter and The Freak series by @lexirosewrites (steddie)

Summary: The Hellfire Club can collectively pinpoint the exact day that the formerly ruthless dungeon master known as Eddie “The Freak” Munson became soft. Mostly because it was the same day that Steve “The Stutter” Harrington started school at Hawkins High and became an unofficial member of HFC.

If there's another fanfic writer whose profile I've been devouring, it would be @lexirosewrites. And each one, I get more and more hooked. They have so many stories that I really adored, including the first honorable mentioned that tied with this one for top fav. But there's something about this one that gets me every time.

This one, Steve is such a sweet baby boy who deserved to be protected and Eddie immediately is like, BET, I accept that challenge. Quickly Steve is taken under Dustin's wing, taken into the Hellfire Club, and immediately captures Eddie's heart.

It's a comfort read.

Honorable mentions:

my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

Silver

Bandaids for the Heart

And now for the Honorable Mentions that were insanely good but due to time & length, couldn’t go into full depth:

Love You Like A Love Song series by eyesofshinigami (steddie; omegaverse steddie w/alpha Steve & omega Eddie, dissolving and switching norms in the ABO on its head, being so sappily in love)

awake for ever in a sweet unrest: california trail steddie by hesjustlikemefr (steddie; California trail, mid-1800s, alpha Eddie x omega Steve, mpreg, age gap w/older Eddie)

Nice & Quiet by nobetterlove (steddie; hard of hearing Steve, Steve slowly losing his hearing, Eddie & the gang helping him all the way)

you're mine, class president by orphan account (tododeku; based on the anime maid sama ft. flirtious shouto x shy izuku, peppered with so much cuteness)

For the Love of Football by olddarkmachine (sheith; football player shiro x loner-keith set in a 4-part college AU that's so much fun)

Hic sunt dracones by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation (steddie; fated mates w/dragon Eddie & prince Steve, delivered with such beautiful devotion and possessiveness that I gobbled up)

There you have it, folks. The fanfics that live rent-free in my head. The fanfics that helped make this year bearable. Done by the amazing writers who deserve all the praise, love, kudos, comments, and more. And whom I definitely will be checking out their future stuff in the future.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

[ink-n-shadow]

PARTY LIKE A ROCKSTAR

𝜗𝜚 the one where you're a rockstar and ghost is your bodyguard

𝜗𝜚 pairing: bodyguard!Simon "Ghost" Riley x rockstar!reader (link to all works in this au) 𝜗𝜚 cw: alternative universe (majority non-canon), strong language, maybe suggestive content (but i think that's a stretch) 𝜗𝜚 note: the way this au!headcanon has been living rent free inside of my head for weeks (might have to make this into a series o_O)

⤷ you were one of the biggest up-and-coming names in the music industry. that being said－you needed the best protection that could be offered.

⤷ enter ghost－an ex-british army soldier that your manager hired right after your first big break to take you to and from a local concert. he kept his face covered by some stupid skull mask and wore a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to expose the countless tattoos that swirled around his forearms.

⤷ ghost would refuse to tell you his real name too. but he was quiet, protective, intimidating, and really good at his job－so your manager kept him around.

⤷ now you were much more well known, meaning ghost's job of keeping you alive and away from grabbing hands or flashing pap lights only got more difficult. but at least the pay also increased.

⤷ while the conversations were brief and often short-lived, you both had grown to somewhat enjoy the constant presence of one another. even if you pushed ghost's buttons and tried to stretch out away from his grasp.

"Aye－fuck did I say about tryin' to leave the venue without me? You're gonna get yourself bloody murdered out there."

⤷ would most definitely have a pet name to call you instead of your real name/stage name

"I said get behind me, dove. How am I gonna protect your pretty little face from behind ya?"

⤷ ghost would most definitely sit in the security area or stage wings at your concerts just to watch you tear up the stage. he liked watching you do the thing you loved the most－performing. but again, he'd never admit how much he enjoyed it.

"Yeah, dove. I watched you out there tonight. What－you want me to give you a gold fuckin' star for your performance? It was 'lright, not the best I've ever seen."

⤷ he has definitely taken you home inebriated more times than he could count. and you definitely get handsy and flirty when you're not sober. but he always made sure you got home safe and sound.

"Aye! Keep your bloody hands to yourself－no, m'not holding your hand right now, dove. You're plastered...don't even know your own fuckin' name."

⤷ you were definitely a soft spot for ghost, but he'd never admit it. he barely admitted it to himself.

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[spacesapphi]

HES Trio Headcanons (the third)

That's right guys, another one (my brain is rotted). These three live in my head rent free

some the Shane ones are sad again, sorry

Elliott

-had a pet hermit crab as a kid, he's always been a friend of the crabs!

- prefers fancy, decorative candles to scented ones. The prettier the better!

- trying his best to make his room look like Howls from Howls Moving Castle. That clutter of beautiful trinkets is exactly what he wants for a setup

- loves wearing his hair in braids, but is terrible at doing braids on himself. He usually asks Leah

- Willy is like a father to him. His bio father was not a kind man, and Willy is everything he wished his father could be and more

- Willy taught him how to fish too, and he's actually pretty good at it!

- very into a "method acting" style of writing, as in he'll live like a character he's trying to write for a while until he feels like he can realistically interpret them in his writing

- faked a British accent for about a month in middle school because he thought it sounded very sophisticated and artsy

Harvey

- won't tell anyone, but he enjoys little Saturday morning cartoons now and then. It reminds him of the moments of joy he felt when he was little and he cherishes that

- tried to shave off his mustache once and seeing how he looked without it scared him so bad he vowed not to do it again. It looks so bad 😭💔

- wears that Ebenezer scrooge lookin nightgown and cap unironically, swears that it helps him sleep better

- lactose intolerant and has a gluten allergy. He doesn't like cheese and baked goods because of it, they make him really sick

- that being said, if u made/bought him gluten free stuff he would act like he owes his life to you

- once he was at the library at the same time Penny was tutoring the kids. It was during free reading time and Vincent told him he looked like a character in the book he was reading. It was Geronimo Stilton. Harvey has still not recovered from that

- really wanted siblings as a little kid but never had them, so he created an imaginary friend for himself and pretended to go on aviation missions with them

- has a lil gap between his front teeth, he gets a bit shy about it, but it's cute when he smiles and you can see it

Shane

- I changed my height headcanon, bro is 5'3 now

- his ENTIRE family is very short, his mom and Marnie are 5'0. Jas' parents were tall though so once she's older she's absolutely towering over Marnie and Shane

- had very long hair before taking in Jas. For many reasons, especially maintenance, he's kept it short since adopting her

- Him stealing food from Joja is a habit built from necessity, from the time before he moved back in with Marnie. He got to the point financially that he was often stealing food for him and Jas, because he was often forced to choose between groceries and paying rent.

- he's not a vegetarian, but he refuses to eat chicken specifically. Everytime he tries, he just can't bring himself to do it. He loves chickens too much

- even then, he still ate very little. Stealing was risky and he wanted to make sure Jas was given what she needed first. He always had her eat first, and would eat whatever she didn't, like crusts or veggies she didn't like. The night he moved back in with Marnie was the first time he had an actual meal in about a year

- After he starts recovery, he tries to be better friends with Penny given that she's Jas' teacher. She isn't very interested in being close with him, but he still tries to be friendly

- has an arsenal of dad jokes at the ready at any given moment, you are not prepared for how corny this man gets

- forever salty that LEWIS of all people is beating him on the junimo kart leaderboards

- He and Sam have a workplace besties kinda relationship. They still stay pretty good friends after Joja closes, Shane goes to all of his bands shows to show support

- the only festivals he really cares about are the egg festival, luau and Stardew valley fair. The rest he'll go to because it makes Jas and Marnie happy, but those three he has a passion for

[kalisburnerphone]

Amazing // Choi Seungcheol

Summary: Seungcheol doesn’t understand why she won’t let him take care of her when it’s all he wants to do. He has no idea how she found out about what he’s been doing every month for the past six months but he’s sure he can get her to agree with his logic.

Warnings: Idol!Seungcheol x OC!Solana, kinda one-sided situationship, a tiny bit suggestive,Seungcheol on his glucose guardian agenda, curve/plus-sized, foreigner!oc, Seungcheol calls her Sol, princess. I think that’s about it, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: This is part of an idolverse series that’ll be posted in non-chronological order. I’m not sure how many parts members will have but there might be instances of crossovers.Mingyu, Seungcheol and Minghao are the only ones that I have anything written/plotted for. I’m not promising frequent updates because I’m currently on an intensive training program before starting grad school but I have some free time starting Thursday so I’ll try to work on pieces during that time. I only just got back into posting my work in the kpop community after a break from it but I do enjoy anime as well so you may come across it on my dashboard. Lastly, I am absolute trash when it comes to titles and summaries so please bare with me in advance.

Solana and Seungcheol rarely argued and if they did, it was usually about the same thing; Seungcheol spending his money on her like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to do. And in his mind, it was. Seungcheol understood that she was more than capable of providing for and taking care of herself but he felt as though she shouldn’t have to with him around.

They’d met before he’d even acquired the amount of money he had today so he knew for a fact that it wasn’t why she was with him which is exactly why he spent it on her. Seungcheol in most instances believed that actions spoke louder than words and if he felt like buying his girlfriend’s entire shopping cart on her favorite jewelry site than that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

Usually Sol wouldn’t say anything because no matter how much she told him not to, he’d find a way to justify his actions and just do it once again. This time however, she refused to let him.

“Yah!! Choi Seungcheol!” She exclaimed as she entered her apartment. His head pops out from the kitchen where he’d been peeling tangerines when he hears her.

“What’d I do?” She only ever called him by his government name when she angry or irritated with him.

“Y’know what you did! I thought we agreed that you’d ease up on excessive amounts of spending that you do on me?”

“We did, I haven’t spent excessively on you since the last time you gave me an earful for buying everything in your cart from The Jade Jewelers. What’s this about?” He asks tangerines forgotten as he follows her to the living room area, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at her rummaging through her bag before pulling out a small pile of paper.

“You’re really going to play dumb with me right now? You haven’t been spending excessively? Then explain this.” She spits out pressing the printed sheets to his chest.

Seungcheol takes the papers from her hand, looking them over before ‘shit’ is whispered from his lips. “You weren’t supposed to find out about this.”

“Well, no shit Seungcheol. Explain yourself.” She snaps as she sits on the couch with her arms crossed and looking directly at him.

“How’d you find out?”

“That’s not important. I’ve been living here for six months and you’ve been paying my rent this entire time after I told you I didn’t like you spending excessively on me especially when it came to things that I’m capable of handling on my own.”

“I know you’re capable, I do, but just because you can do all these things for yourself doesn’t mean that you have to. I’m here and I’m willing, wanting to do these things for you but you won’t let me.Why can’t I do nice things for you?”

Because it makes this feel like it’s more than what it is. It’s what she wants to tell him because as much as Seungcheol acted like it wasn’t that big of a deal, it was to her. She’d constantly have to remind herself that they weren’t in a relationship. They hooked up whenever he had free time and him paying for her KTX ticket and accommodation in Seoul was as much as she said she’d allow him but Choi Seungcheol had a way of getting whatever he wanted.

“It’s not that you can’t do nice things for me, it’s just that you have a habit of behaving like a damn glucose guardian when it comes to expenses.”

“Okay, and? If I want to behave like your sugar daddy and pay and do everything for you then you should just let me. Think about it,” he says dropping in the space next to her wasting no time in pulling her onto his lap.

“I cover all your basic expenses and necessities and all you have to do is sit pretty and get that degree. Sounds like a win-win situation to me.”

“No. Now either fix it or I’m transferring the money to your account.”

“I’ll send it right back. Play with me if you want to.” He smirks at her.

“God, you’re so infuriating.” She huffs getting off his lap and moving down the hall to her bedroom.”

“Yahhhh, we weren’t finished yet.” She can hear him pouting as he follows behind her.

“Yes, we are because you’re going to do it again regardless of what I say right now.” She responses slipping off her jacket.

“Sollllllll, are you really that upset about it?” When she doesn’t reply, he wraps his arms around her waist and rests his head on her shoulder. “If I compromise with you, will you stop being upset with me and go back to calling me Cheol?”

“Does that compromise include you not paying all my bills?” She replies sarcastically.

“Watch it, princess. Don’t want that mouth getting you in trouble don’t you? I’ve already let you slide with the sass, don’t push it.” He speaks into her ear before lightly nipping at her neck.

“I’ll let you pay your phone bill and groceries but that’s it. Despite what you say I know you only moved out from the dorms this early because of me and to allow us more privacy. The least I can do is cover your rent and utilities, I can’t help it because that’s just who I am and you know this. Now, forgive me please?” 

Seungcheol asks spinning her around in his arms. She was just about an inch or two shorter than him so he didn’t have to do much to look her in the eyes. “I don’t want you mad at me on my last night before I leave.”

“Forgive me,” there’s a peck to her cheek followed by another until Seungcheol has pressed kisses all over her face and has her a giggling mess.

“Fine, fine,Cheolll.” She laughs trying to escape him but he’s not having it.

“I can’t hear you princess, what was that?” He teases as he grasps her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“I forgive you,” 

“And?” he encourages though he already knows that he’s gotten his way once again.

“I’ll let you take care of me even if it means putting my pride and independent nature aside and letting you pay my rent.” she sighs dramatically.

She’d never admit it but seeing Seungcheol be domestic had a tendency to do things to her. Things he’d never let her hear the end of if he knew. She’d seen a lot of different sides to Choi Seungcheol in the two years since they started all this but domesticated Seungcheol was her second favorite.

“Y’know what’s amazing?” He asks and she’s so busy staring at him that she misses the teasing lithe in his voice.

“Hmmm?” Her hands are draped over his shoulders, fingers playing in the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands around her waist resting on the curve of her ass as he leans in closer to her ear.

“We both know that I have no problem getting your pussy wet but when are you finally going to admit that me being all domesticated and taking care of you gets you all hot and bothered the same way it does to me? Hmmm?”

The way her breath hitches is enough to let him know that he’s right but he doesn’t act on it.

“C’mon, I cut fruit and we have new episodes to finish.” He says kissing her cheek as he leaves her standing in the bedroom like he didn’t just read her for filth. It takes a few seconds for her to recover but once she does she’s following behind him.

“Yah! Choi Seungcheol!”

[dustofthedailylife]

Lost And Found

-> Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Welt x (gn!) Reader

Summary: You meet your old childhood friend and crush again unexpectedly and feelings you thought you had long forgotten begin to resurface.

Tags: Fluff, Jarilo-VI story spoilers, childhood friends to lovers, Reader is implied to have known Welt when they were still young so they're about the same age here

A/N: I am on my knees begging for Welt to come home, and he refuses to come home, so I'm offering this fic as a sacrifice to the gacha gods. This is also my first HSR fic! Jing Yuan will probably be the next one I write something for... he is living rent-free in my head atm :3

You were standing in line at the street kiosk for a coffee-to-go and a granola bar. Like every morning before you headed to work. Or whatever your work was, now that the Stellaron was gone. There already had been a huge amount of layoffs lately and you expected that it wouldn’t be long anymore until they would lay you off as well.

It was cold today, nothing unusual on Jarilo-VI, but you felt like it had gotten warmer, even if it was still very minuscule and barely noticeable. 

One glance at today’s newspaper revealed yet another Stellaron headline. Nothing surprising.

Silvermane Guards push back on the Stellaron Corruption further. Supreme Guardian Bronya supports the underground with the delivery of rations and supplies.

You heard some strangers from afar had come here and managed to achieve, within a bit more than a week, what people on this planet failed to do for hundreds of years. Something you failed to help with as well, despite coming here for research on the topic yourself.

“Good morning!” The barista greeted you. “The usual?”

“The usual. Thank you.” You nodded with an honest smile. 

Once served and paid, you clutched your hands around the cup to warm your hands on the steaming hot liquid. 

The brew here could hardly be called coffee when comparing it to the one on Earth, but for what it was worth it made do. All it needed to achieve was giving you a small energy boost and some warmth after all.

Walking further down the street you spotted a lot of new faces. Ever since you’ve been here the underground had been sealed, now that it was back open it was definitely great to see the streets bustling with life again. It gave you hope that things would finally take a turn for the better on this planet. 

Maybe that meant it was time for you to leave soon as well. You had no concrete plans on where to go next yet. But essentially as always, you’d just go wherever the stars would carry you.

Lost in thought you didn’t notice how the person in front of you had stopped walking, causing you to bump into them and spill the entire cup of your tastebud-offending coffee over their coat and yourself. 

Just fantastic.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. It was my bad, I should have–”

You frantically took out a handkerchief and tried to dry the clothes of the man in front of you, until he suddenly took hold of your hand, forcing you to halt your ministrations.

At that moment he questioningly called your name.

Startled by the strange yet familiar voice, you flicked your eyes up to the face of the man you had just run into. And without a shadow of a doubt; it was him. 

His friendly brown eyes still exuded the same comforting warmth as they did all those years ago. Something you thought you’d never see again in this lifetime. Not after he left Earth.

“Welt?” You carefully inquired despite being sure that the man standing in front of you was him. Your childhood best friend. The boy you had the biggest, most mind-numbing, and toe-curling crush on back in the day.

“So it really is you!” He huffed in disbelief with a wide smile and an excited sparkle in his eyes. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

“Neither did I after you left…”

You paused for a moment to take in his features. He had become old, without a doubt, but he was still as handsome as you remembered. You dare say, it made him look even more handsome than he already was back in the day. Maturity certainly suited him.

“Let's get you a new coffee, shall we?” He points out after both you and he just stared at each other for what felt like an eternity without uttering a word. 

"Oh, uh. There is no need. It was my own fault for not paying attention and bumping into you.."

"Please, I insist! Even if it’s just for old times' sake. Although you might have to lead me to a Café since I'm unfamiliar with this city. If you still wish to take me with you in my coffee-stained state, that is…"

He looked at the mess on both his and your clothes before laughing.

But who were you to say no to an old friend? Who, after all this time, still seemed to effortlessly make your heart beat an octave higher.

"I have to warn you though. Don't expect too much from the coffee here. It tastes like hot dishwater at best."

"Well, maybe I like dishwater if I can enjoy it with an old friend?"

After you arrived at one of your favorite Cafés, he led you to one of the tables and pulled out a chair for you, waiting until you sat down. Flustered by the chivalrous gesture you avoided eye contact and waited until he sat down as well before looking at his face again.

Soon after, the conversation with him just kept flowing and it felt as if you hadn't been apart for even a day. Talking to him felt as natural and calming as you remember it. At the same time, it made you painfully aware of how much you had actually missed him.

"Hey, that reminds me, I haven't even asked yet, but what brings you here?"

"Oh, right. My crew and I were responsible for the Stellaron incident." He explained.

Figures. You could've expected that it was him who was responsible for resolving the crisis on this planet the moment you found him again.

“I’m not surprised.” You chuckled. “You mentioned a crew?”

“Yes. We travel together on the Astral Express to planets with Stellaron activity.”

“So you’re essentially the Guardians of the Galaxy?” You joke.

“Something like that.” He laughed as the corner of his eyes crinkled upwards. “Travelling feels great again. When Himeko found me–”

“Himeko?” You inquired a bit too quickly as soon as you felt a pang in your chest when he dropped the name. You tried to stop yourself from doing so but it seemed like finding your old friend again made feelings resurface you thought you had long buried and forgotten. Of course, he too had moved on with his life after so long. It would’ve surprised you if he wouldn’t have found a partner, especially with how handsome he was and still is.

“Is she your wife?” You carefully speculated while trying your hardest not to look hurt by the consideration that she might be.

“Who? Himeko? No… god, no. We’re just colleagues. Friends at most.”

A wave of relief washed over you. Was it stupid to be relieved that he wasn’t in any relationship just for your own selfish reasons? Most likely. It’s not like he’d stay here with you or take you with him all of a sudden. And you shouldn’t expect him to do so either.

Your subconscious feelings were hard to suppress though. No matter how hard you tried.

“What can I get you two lovebirds?” The waitress asked when she arrived at your table with a sweet smile.

“Oh, uh, we’re not–”

“I’ll take just a normal cup of coffee. Black, two pieces of sugar please.” Welt interrupted entirely unphased and not in any rush to correct the waitress about her wrong assumption of your relationship status. He smiled and threw you a glance out of the corner of his eyes as he spoke, seemingly amused by your probably undeniably flustered state.

With a heavily beating heart, you simply ordered the same as him while trying not to sound too out of breath. Not that you were capable of thinking about coffee when your mind was racing at the speed of light.

“I haven’t had the chance to tell you yet, that you look just as stunning as I remember.” He complimented as soon as the two were back alone. 

Was he trying to kill you?

“Oh, uhm.” You cleared your throat, feeling how your face had started to burn up. “Thank you. I could say the same about you.”

The wait for your coffee would be excruciatingly slow at this rate. Where were you supposed to look or what were you supposed to say now? 

Every ability to converse like a normal human being flew right out the window the moment he complimented you. Lucky for you he seemed to have enough to talk about, so he kept the conversation flowing by telling you about what he had been up to since you last saw each other.

“Anyway, that’s enough about me. What have you been up to all this time?”, he asked as soon as the waitress served your coffee.

“Oh… I actually came here for the Stellaron myself, so I’m basically jobless now thanks to you and your crew.” You chuckled as you took a sip from the coffee. The dark brown bitter liquid enveloped your tastebuds and made you cringe for a brief moment. You would never get used to the dishwater they dare to call coffee here.

“I’ll have to see where I’ll go now. I have no concrete plans or goals. But probably trying to find another planet that might need my help.” You ascertained after a brief pause.

“Why don’t you come with us?”

Taken aback by the unexpected and sudden proposal you started choking on your coffee as soon as he had finished speaking. Despite the butterflies that made themselves known in the pit of your stomach you couldn’t help but stare at him in disbelief. Simultaneously feeling both hope and old feelings started to bloom inside of your chest once more.

“I’m sorry. I know it might be quite a rash proposal. But it seems we share the same ideals and I thought you would be a great addition to the crew.” He paused and took a sip from his cup, awaiting your answer.

“I–I… Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll come with you.” You reply which elicited a smile and, what you assumed was, a quiet sigh of relief from him.

“I’m glad. There is so much I still wish to tell you.”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Okay here's one. I really dont think I'm the asshole but my ex sure does.

AITA for refusing to buy my partner a jar of pickles?

So this story has like, a little background and some confounding factors i think but i really could go both ways on whether i was the asshole.

Ill start with both my ex (21nb) and i (23f) had severe mental health issues and were working on treatment when we were together. Theyd been in and out of inpatient stays throughout our three year relationship. Towards the Day of Pickles, i had my first inpatient stay where i got help i desperately needed to keep myself safe. This happened to be about a week after my 23rd birthday, but about two and a half weeks before their 21st birthday.

Anyway, at that time i had just gotten out of the hospital and started a new job at Joanns Fabrics (i outlived that retail fucker and im proud of it). I had been unemployed for the previous year and a half because of the pandemic and so the retail job was really my saving grace to have some sort of income to buy gas and groceries. My parents let me live rent free with them in their basement but i spent a LOT of time essentially squatting at my ex's dorm because my situation with my parents was not great.

Now my ex was also being financially abused by their mom so they had a monthly "allowance" of 200$ (of their own money they made at their on campus job) and no access to their bank statements. So i spent a lot of my own money on gas and groceries for both of us, and anything we wanted to do for fun, like visit the city. Without an income, this was SUPER stressful for me and i spiraled pretty hard with feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness. Supporting two people, even minimal living expenses, on an income of exactly 0$ is the WORST.

Anyway, i got out of the hospital and pretty much immediately went back to picking up as many shifts as i could at work because id been on staff for all of two weeks before hospitalization. Knowing retail, i was probably on the precipice of losing hours or being fired altogether.

My ex wanted me to take time off to celebrate their 21st birthday (they didnt celebrate my birthday that year) and travel to see their family and drink etc. I got scheduled for an inconvenient time. I would have to miss their birthday if i didnt find someone to cover. I managed to switch shifts with another coworker who was nice enough to let me have her morning shift, so i was able to at least travel separately and be a little late to dinner.

The night of their birthday my ex wanted to get drunk and so we went to the liquor store. Now im generally pretty picky about alcohol but if i get anything special i always get enough to share. Mysteriously, no one ever offers to share the expense or pay me back. So with all of 150$ in my account, i purchased enough alcohol for myself and the rest of the party, and a bottle of (cheap af) liquor for myself. I was broke af until my next paycheck and was pretty much planning on giving up meals and staying at home because the commute to work was shorter and meant less gas.

My ex picked out a jar of boozy pickles and asked if i would get it for them for their birthday. I should note that with all the stress i was under i had found a birthday present for them but hadnt actually placed the order (was waiting to get paid). I also didnt lie to them about this and had told them that i hadnt gotten their birthday present yet. They were upset by this and told me they felt like i didnt care about them, to which i snapped and raised my voice a little.

I gave them a bit of a reality check. I told them in no uncertain terms that i was under a lot of stress, from nearly killing myself to being flat broke with little to no help from my family other than a conditional roof over my head, ordering their birthday present wasnt super high on my list of things to do and that i knew what i was going to get them and that i intended to order it as soon as i had the money to do so. After years of the sole attention being focused on keeping them alive, i needed some support and acting like i didnt care completely ignored EVERYTHING i did to keep us both afloat.They cried and played the victim as they tended to do and i was too stressed to do anything but be angry.

So when they asked for the pickles i told them no. I have NOTHING left in my bank account, and anything that was in my account was already allocated for something else.

They told me i was being selfish for buying myself alcohol on THEIR birthday, not even getting them a present, yelling at them, and then refusing to buy the one thing they asked for, especially after i refused to take off work the day before to hang out with them and their family. In front of our friends.

I told them that i was purchasing the alcohol for the whole party, that the present had slipped my mind, and that they were accusing me of not caring about them when i snapped. Then i walked out.

My bff went outside to help me cool down and i told him what was going on and how stressed i was and he said that he agreed with me, it was childish to expect me to pay for everything with no help from anyone and then act like im unreasonable for having to put limits on what i can purchase.

My ex ended up getting so pissed by all of this they broke up with me two days later, saying that their birthday was the final straw for them after I'd been so codependent and relying on them too much to survive.

I think its all ridiculous given all of the stress factors i was dealing with at the time. I feel like we're all entitled to the occasional emotional outburst/bouts of forgetfulness when we're stressed. But my ex seems to think im a selfish asshole. We've been no contact for the last two years so this isnt like a pressing concern or anything but it does make me roll my eyes occasionally.

So tumblr, aita?

(Btw im also much more financially stable now that I'm fully and properly medicated and away from them.)