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causenessus · 1 year ago

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Dating Them. | Haikyuu

inc. akaashi, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, sugawara, kageyama, kuroo

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied)

song recc: i got carried away and gave them all a song but i can't help myself so if u want another one, loverboy by a-wall

word count: 3105 words

summary: "what does dating them look like?"

i love them all sm <3 hopefully these all make sense!! tysm to @luvring for sending me down a deep retrograde with rex orange county whom i almost chose to link a song to for everyone but then narrowed it down to just oikawa <3 also almost put in we & us for akaashi but freaked out 💃 pls check out this post by her that inspired me!! it was so sweet

akaashi

even if my heart stops beating you're the only thing i need with me even if the earth starts shaking you're the only thing worth taking even if the sky's on fire got you here, it's alright

looks like little gifts and notes left for each other everywhere

lunches made for the other left in lockers and on desks with little love notes <3

tell me he wouldn’t end every note to you with a little " ♡ ᵕ̈ " i dare you

you both handwrite the notes because texts are for losers

unless ofc one of you is out of town and you’re separated

then there are good morning and goodnight and i miss you texts

ending with ୧⍤⃝💐 and ᴖ̈ emojis

you both are very busy people so you just try to make sure the other is taken care of and knows they’re loved until you guys see each other again <3

dates are always lovely with him but the best part of them is when you guys get to go home

when it’s late at night and one of you is between the legs of the other, laying against their chest as you both do your individual things or something together

since life is so hectic it’s nice to just have these quiet moments in each other's presence <3 all he needs is to be around you and he doesn’t need anything else

there's definitely so many intimate and domestic moments with him

getting home from games used to be one of the worst parts of playing volleyball but you’ve made him look forward to it

he loves to call or text you on the way home <3

if you’re able to stay at his house and be there when he gets home even better !!

you’re always taking care of him, making him something to eat or cleaning him up <3

how you guys started getting interested in each other?

I think at first sight you were curious about each other but one specific interaction sealed the deal <3

akaashi for sure knows so many random facts and how things work and most of the time when bokuto says something, it’s incorrect and akaashi will correct him <3

one afternoon when you three were together, bokuto was rambling about something he thought was impossible and threw a look towards akaashi, “and i don’t want to hear a ‘well, actually’ from you, there’s no way i'm wrong. if we're building things on earth that means more stuff on it and so it's getting heavier.”

akaashi only smiled, looking at his fingers as he played with them, “yes, but everything we're making those buildings out of already existed on the earth prior to–”

bokuto groaned, hands in his hair as he bent over, “no way! you know too much akaashi, I don’t even know if that’s a good thing or not”

you let out a small laugh at the exchange. you wanted to add something but your chest tightened with anxiety, fearing that it would reveal how you truly felt. however, it slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, “i actually like it, i think it’s really cool that you know so much, akaashi-san. i admire it.”

bokuto, still bent with his arms on his legs immediately turned his head towards you with sharp eyes and brows raised, a teasing smile on his face

akaashi, on the other hand, had turned slightly red, his lips stuck between wanting to smile and trying to play off the compliment as if it hadn’t made his heart stop for a second

you’re cheeks had also warmed, realizing that if bokuto immediately got it through his thick skull (with love ♡) there was no way akaashi hadn’t

since he’s quiet by nature, the sweetest thing for him is someone who will really listen to what he has to say and the fact that you found it interesting just topped it all off <3

bokuto

sweet talk everything you say it sounds like sweet talk to my ears

looks like seeing each other in the halls and he brightens up, the world literally getting brighter as he sees you and he can’t stop the wide smile that spreads across his face <3

i think what he really needs is someone that matches his energy. you might be a little calmer than him due to the fact that you’re not jumping up and down but you’re just as happy, a smile wide on your face, eyes wide and you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him as well

if you are able to, you always come to his matches and it makes a difference in his playing <3

ofc before dating he was just as amazing as a player but now that he gets to see you while doing what he loves, there’s so much energy and happiness that wells up in him he ends up jumping higher and being more vocal

without a doubt he’s always looking up to you in the stands before every rally

it makes your heart stir, too, whenever he makes eye contact with you and you can’t help but smile and cheer with all the love in the world whenever you both meet eyes

whenever he’s home from a match, you bet that he’s heading to you as soon as possible if you allow him to

loves to collapse on you, strong arms wrapped around your waist and he rests his head on your stomach, body between your legs

will fall asleep so fast if you run your hands through his hair, loves it if you just comb through it from the front, pushing it back as they slide to the back of his head and then move back to the front to run through the strands again

even better if you talk to him as you love on him while he’s resting on you

hugs you tighter when you praise him, letting out a small sigh as he relaxes

“you did so well today, kou. ‘m so proud of you,” you hum.

“you mean it, baby?” he mumbles, face still buried into your shirt.

“i mean it. i would never miss any of your games if i can help it for the world, love.”

the last thing he can get out is an “i love you so much" before his eyes fall shut

oikawa

girl, if you want it there’s no good reason not to love if you want it

looks like keeping him company even when it’s three in the morning <3

he’ll hold you close or have you on his lap, arms wrapped around you when he’s up at night watching other team’s volleyball matches

loves to talk you through the plays as well if you have any questions

will take the time to pause the video and point out anything <3

“see what they did here? they purposely left an opening in the block for the libero to cover. it corners the spiker either way,” he spoke softly, a small smile on his face as he explains the tactic to you.

“i think i understand. you guys have done that before too, right?” you nod, eyes focused on the screen as you lean to the side, resting your head on his shoulder

he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, “we have, pretty. i didn’t think you paid so much attention.”

“of course i do!” you pouted, tilting your head to look slightly on him.

he met your eyes with a teasing smile, “i’m only joking, princess. i see how hard you focus, you look super cute when you do, after all.”

you buried your face into his shoulder, too red to keep looking at him

you’re definitely a part of his squad (iwa, makki, matsu) even if you’re a grade below them

if you didn't already know them, he also definitely introduced you to the group as “his girl”

from then on out, you had four scary guard dogs should you ever need them <3

he’s glad to have someone so close to him that also gets along with his friends, so he’s happy as can be when you’re all hanging out

ofc also enjoys one on one time with u as seen above

after matches, you’re always loving on him, whether he won or lost

if he won, similar to bokuto, you’re praising him the whole way, pressing kisses to his forehead as he lays on you, completely content as he rests

if he lost, there’s no words exchanged between you two until he’s ready. it’s not that words will lead to anything bad, but you know what will help him. you know that for him, he’ll recover with time. after he’s thought about it, he’ll express all his feelings and emotions to you, so you only need to wait for him to be ready. in the meantime, you’ll love on him and make sure he takes care of himself. you’ll stay with him so that he knows he’s not alone and when he’s ready, you caress his face, softly wiping his eyes whenever they tear up and listen to anything he wants to say <3

iwaizumi

my baby here on earth showed me what my heart was worth so when it comes to be my turn could you shine it down here for her?

looks like giving you gifts everytime he sees you

probably actually started with you giving him gifts all the time first <3

def friends to lovers i can see it

when you started giving him gifts, it stirred something inside of him and his friends kept telling him that you definitely liked him back

he was still unsure tho bc we’re talking a man with a whole fan club and two other men who have nothing better to do but tease other people so how trustworthy is their advice really

but he wanted to be hopeful so he started getting you things too (credit to makki & matsu, best wingmen)

because your relationship with iwa was 100% friends to lovers, said wingmen + whatever oikawa is definitely supported you both and were trying to play cupid

makki and matsu helped iwa find out what you liked without making it obvious and since he was too nervous to ask you on his own

also tried to inconspicuously ask if you were interested in anyone in which you immediately turned red and hid your face

the two boys turned to each other with a smirk because they knew they were definitely right

they probably got you to plan a confession to iwa, swearing on their lives that iwa liked you back

(makki and co. also definitely found a way to listen to it all go down and probably even recorded it)

as soon as you guys start dating he’s all over you <3 probably beats you to buying something most of the time but you still try to buy him things as often as you can

i think he’d adore flowers from you <3 they’re some of the sweetest things you can get them

mad dog respects you as an extent of his respect of iwa

definitely lots of words of affirmation in your relationship too

after the spring high semifinals you were in his lap, letting him hide his face in the crook of your neck as his whole body shook

you rubbed the back of his head with one hand, the other placed on one of his arms which were wrapped around you,

“i just want you to know how proud i am of you, hajime. i could hear you everytime you brought up your team. you did so well. you taught them so much. you’re so observant, you’re so strong. i couldn’t be more proud of you, love.”

he tightened his hold on you, and you felt his tears on your neck. “i know. i know it hurts a lot, baby. i’m here for you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his head.

sugawara

she said i dressed in your favorite i bought two bottles of red unless you made reservations oh look, you thought all ahead

looks like mothering his flock of children with him and taking care of him after he has taken care of the rest <3

lots of resting on each other’s shoulders throughout the day bc you both are so tired

whenever you guys are on dates, his favorite parts are always the train ride back home, he loves the gentle rocking of the train that lulls you both to sleep as you lay on each other, there’s just something so safe and intimate about it

ofc he loves doing things with you and you both try to spoil each other rotten, surprising each other with gifts and dates

some of your favorite dates to go on are just walks around outside

you guys take turns finding different locations to travel to just so that you guys can admire the beauty together

can u imagine? two pretty people walking around in pretty nature?? it’s too much <3

he loves walking in the winter at night because most of the time you guys will get to see pretty lights too!!

and if u get cold he gets to give u his jacket so two birds w/ one stone

if he’s feeling generous he’ll invite one of the children to walk with you guys while looking at christmas lights

it’s different every time

one night it was hinata, bundled warm in jackets and bouncing around between you and suga

another night it was kageyama, as calm and collected as ever but he enjoyed looking at the lights with you guys

you definitely bought him hot chocolate bc you couldn’t handle the parental love bubbling in your heart for the boy

(mama y papa?--)

but you both were def alone on christmas night when he took you out to walk in the middle of the city, where pretty lights shined at every angle and in every direction <3

he can’t help but kiss you a lot whenever he sees your pretty lips

and you love to kiss his little beauty mark below his eye <3

whenever he’s playing in games, you’re always cheering the loudest

afterwards you’re always flooding him with compliments too once you’re both home or through text message if he’s on the bus ride back

“u always notice so much during matches!! whenever u get in you always have something to tell everyone it’s so cool :000”

“and when you spiked, love, you did so good. we were all freaking out in the stands bc you had just been shut down before and you still went through with it completely!!!”

he'll smile at your energetic messages before replying with his own,

“thank u thank u <3 i can only do so well because i have my own personal cheerleader”

“I’ll see you soon, ok? we’re almost back to school, i love you so much, angel”

if his teammates hadn't drilled it into his head already how much he meant to them, your messages alone would make it worth it <3

kageyama

i wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind... can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever?

looks like dates to the milk vending machine and walking together around school <3

he’s already waiting outside your class during breaks and when lunch starts

you step through the door and jump when you see him

“tobio? how are you already here? class just ended?”

“...do you wanna go to the vending machines with me?”

“did you leave early?”

he averts his eyes immediately, trying to think of an excuse but you just sigh to yourself and start to walk, “what am i going to do with you? let’s go before class starts.”

“i wanted to see you,” he mumbles, eyes lowered to the floor and his cheeks dusted pink as he follows after you

your eyes widen at the response and you almost trip over your feet before you smile and lean closer to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek

“i love you too, tobio.”

he’s another boy you’re constantly fighting with to pay for things

sometimes you’re racing to the machine because you’re so desperate to buy him something but there’s no way you’re winning against him even if he gives you a headstart

you work hard to take care of him, though, and you have your ways of getting back at him even if he ends up paying at the vending machine

he’s so horrible at taking care of himself, especially with the amount of times he stays late to practice with hinata

you started to sneak milk cartons and eventually meals into his bags so that he’ll at least be fed

definitely lots of study dates between you both as well, you’re singlehandedly carrying his grades rn

but it’s worth it when you see him on the court <3

he tends to look at you before every serve, and you can feel your heart buzz whenever he makes eye contact with you

seeing him work so hard in volleyball and have so much fun, you can’t help but fall in love with him all over again, and you’ll do anything you can to help him and make sure he can achieve his dreams <3

kuroo

you wanna go out, i wanna finish living you wanna get up, when i could just lay all day, with you

looks like showing up at your door whenever he feels like it either to take you out or to be at home with you <3

after the first time he insisted that he walk you home and you let him, he started visiting you more often

ofc you let him in everytime, you were glad he was the one making moves because you wanted to be around him more, you just didn’t know what to say

when you both started officially dating, you also obviously put in more effort to show that you appreciate him and love to be with him

but he’s always more than happy to be the one to come to you as long as he knows you enjoy it as much as he does

speaking of which he’d really do anything for you

if he’s not already there, you could ask him to at two in the morning and he’d be there as soon as he could <3

especially if you text him something like “i had a nightmare” or “i can’t sleep” he’s over there in a blink of an eye

“alright, princess. are we staying up or should i tire you out?”

🧍

😳

anyway

he’s making any excuse to be close to you

he’s probably helped you in a few subjects if you were struggling with the material

ofc in exchange for kisses <3

he’s surprised when you come to his games, i feel like he’s probably not used to having a lot of people come to cheer him on and he doesn’t want to bother you about having to come to gymnasiums to watch him

but you come of your own free will and it makes him smile, he’s more than ready to crush his opponents to show off for you <3

after games, you’re throwing yourself into his arms as soon as you get to him and he’ll catch you with just as much adrenaline and excitement running through his veins at the sight of you <3

#akaashi x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #sugawara x reader #kageyama x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcannons

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secretsofafangirll · 1 year ago

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you're still my favorite girl

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!oc

summary: in which chris and isabelle are childhood best friends, who have always had underlying romantic feelings for one another. when chris starts hanging around other girls, isabelle can't help but question their relationship.

tw: talk of insecurity, kind of soft!dom chris, sexual situations but no real smut. mention of fem!oc being "tiny". use of "ma'".

"Come on, Belle," Chris shoots his hand out for her wrist and pulls himself from the couch as she walks away, "You'll have fun, I promise. Madi's gonna be there, Matt and Nick are going. If you're not gonna go for yourself, at least go for them." He pleads staring down at her, fiddling with her fingers.

"No, Chris. I'm sorry, but I'm not going. The last time I went to a party, someone threw up on me and one of Madi's old friends called me ugly, so," She raises her brows at the boy, "I will be staying in the comfort of my bed for the night with Sam and Colby on my screen."

She starts to walk away but Chris reaches out for her again, this time wrapping an arm around her waist hand colliding with her stomach and pulling her back, "Chris!" She giggles as she stumbles, her back coming in contact with his chest.

"Just stay here, B. I'll want to be with you when I get home. Just curl up in my bed and steal my clothes like you always do, hm?" He tickles her ribs and flexes his bicep around her frame.

"Fine," She huffs, throwing her head back against his chest, "but I'm wearing that unicorn, rainbow bullshit hoodie." Putting a finger in the air, she pulls away from his body, and heads for his bedroom.

"Okay, then I'm gonna head over. Be safe. I'll lock the door behind me and don't answer unless it's me, Nick or Matt. Behave." He points and narrows his eyes at me.

"Yes, sir." She jokes, putting her hands behind her back and bowing at the man. His eyes glaze over momentarily and his cool guy act falters for a moment.

"Love you, Belle."

"I love you, Chris." She calls and makes way to his bedroom.

༺♰༻

It's been three and a half hours since Chris left and Isabelle has heard nothing but silence. Not one text or call. She called and texted him several times to ask when he's planning on getting home, as she's getting tired, but he hasn't responded to a single one.

She worries that something bad has happened to him but she knows that Nick and Matt would've called if anything went wrong. While Sam and Colby play quietly in the background of her thoughts, she chomps on her acrylic nails and stares off into space.

Anxious thoughts fill her mind and tiredness threatens to take over. What if he's hurt? What if something happened to Nick and Matt and Chris doesn't have time to tell me? What if Nick and Matt have no idea something is wrong with Chris and he's just suffering all alone with no one aware?

She knows this is the worst thing for her to be doing right now, so to distract herself, she hops out of his bed and saunters into the kitchen to get a glass of water. As she softly pads toward his bedroom door, she hears her phone vibrate against his nightstand. Immediately relief floods her chest and she turns on her heels to run back. She lunges for her phone and is only met with disappointment when she sees that it was just a stupid Instagram notification. But her heart drops when she sees it was Chris who caused the notification in the first place. So he has time to post on Instagram, but not to text his best friend back? Makes total sense!

She reluctantly clicks on the notification to open a story he posted. It's him with one of his other good friends in the influencer space, Paige. He has an arm draped over her shoulders while she curls into his side and blows a fake kiss at his smirking, smug face. The text on the photo reading, My day 1 #1 @paige.

An unfamiliar feeling washes over her. His day one number one? She thinks. What about me? I've known you since kindergarten.

She doesn't know how to describe this feeling. It was like her favorite toy being pried from her hands as a child. Or the spot on the best team in the world being given to someone else. Being given to someone better. Was it jealousy?

No way. She thinks. He's my best friend, I'm not jealous of someone who he's possibly romantically interested in. But when she taps on her profile and sees she also posted a story, she knows exactly what to expect. And boy is she jealous when she sees it.

Paige's post is a different picture. It's a picture of them, back to back. both with sunglasses pointing finger guns at the camera. Nothing's funny about the picture, but Isabelle can't help but laugh. Not at the way they look or the stupid sunglasses, but because Isabelle posted that exact picture of her and Chris not that long ago. She taps through a highlight dedicated to her best friends and two months ago, that exact pose pops up.

Rage courses through her veins. Jealousy and rage flow all throughout her body. You wanna steal my man and my posts? She thinks. And Chris wants to blatantly ignore my attempts to contact him but then be active on social media anyway? Go right ahead.

At this point, she doesn't want to call him or text him. She doesn't even really want to see him at all. Hell, she has half the mind to drive back to her own house and let him find his house empty. But she knows that isn't the right thing to do. So she stays put and tries her best to fall asleep in her best friend's bed.

༺♰༻

Isabella had fallen asleep. Comfortable and warm in Chris hoodie and in his bed. He slowly crept in the front door with Matt and Nick two hours later, careful not to wake the sleeping girl. He signaled with his hand for the two to keep it down as he walked in. Though suddenly, Nick dropped his phone and the smack echoed through the entire house.

Chris' head whips around to Nick with wide eyes "Dude," he whisper shouts, "Shut the fuck up."

Matt and Nick make it to their respective bedroom quickly and quietly, eager to go to sleep after such a long night. Chris, on the other hand, is eager to see his sweet best friend. He ever so carefully pushes down the door handle and cracks the door to see Isabelle sleeping so peacefully on his bed, drowning in his large hoodie she swore she would wear. Her soft breaths making her hair move with every exhale, her small hand resting on the pillow beside her head. He takes a moment to take in her beauty. He can't help it. Chris has always thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. With her long dark hair and piercing green eyes, he could never deny beauty like that, even if she's his best friend.

He tips toes to his closet and closes the door behind him to change. He peels off his shoes pants and shirts, stripping to his boxers. He doesn't have it in him to shower tonight. After forcing himself to socialize with people he didn't even really like that much, all he wants to do is cuddle with the one person he can never get tired of being around. He quietly exits his closet, grateful that his girl is still asleep. He creeps over to his side of the bed and slides in carefully next to her.

He scoots in closer to her and wraps an arm around her waist pulling her closer to him. He peels the hood from her head and places a loving kiss on the top of it. However, he feels her shift beside him and she pulls her body away from his altogether, leaving no part of her touching him at all, save for his hand which is still tacked on to her waist. When he doesn't take the hint, she reaches behind herself, grabs his hands, and roughly tosses it off of her body.

Chris' brows raise in shock at her rejection and when he reaches out for her again, she scoots even further away, almost falling off the bed.

"Belle," He whispers. No answer. "Belly," He tries again a little louder. Still nothing. "Isabelle," He speaks in a normal speaking voice and places a hand on her hip but she only shrugs him off again and doesn't answer. He props himself up on his elbow stretches his body over hers and turns on the light, "Isabelle Bianca Lavigne, if you don't tell me why you won't let me touch you right now, I swear to god B," He trails off, his voice stern and assertive.

Isabelle finally answers at this, her face bare of any makeup, only covered in sadness and mild insecurity and she turns to face him. His eyes soften slightly at her expression but he maintains composure and control of the situation. He's always had that power over her. And in a strange way, both of them like it more than they should.

"There's nothing to say, I'm just hot." She lies through her teeth, and turns back over.

"Bullshit," He scoffs, "You're in a thick ass sweatshirt, under my heavy ass comforter and turned my fan off. Plus, you're always freezing cold. So try again, Isabelle, and this time, don't lie to me."

"Okay, Chris, if you don't want me to lie," She spits and turns to face him, "I text you five times and I call you six. I leave four voicemails and I even call Matt and yet, I get nothing but radio fucking silence from everyone. Then, my phone buzzes and when I think it's my best friend finally texting me back, I see he's posting on Instagram instead. And not only that," She continues, looking around the room as if there are imaginary cameras around, "He's posting other girls, calling them his number ones, as if his, correct me if I'm wrong, best friend isn't worried sick in his bed, because he won't text her back. So, sue me, if I don't want you to touch me right now, as I'm not feeling very loved." She huffs, rolls back over and turns the light back off.

Chris sits, his mouth agape in silence. She can shut him up real damn fast, it seems. She's never said anything like that to him. He's around other girls all the time and she's never reacted like that before. He blows out a long breath before reaching for her body again. He drapes an arm over her waist and starts to pull her against him again.

She struggles against his strength again but he whispers her name over and over in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She gives in and relaxes in his grip, "There we go. Relax and let me talk to you, okay? And let me see that face, hm?" He pulls the hood from her head and turns the lamp on once again. There she is. He whispers to himself.

"Is this about Paige?" He questions, turning her onto her back and pulling her impossibly closer to his chest. He brushes her hair out of her face and behind her ear, his hand slipping under the hoodie and onto her bare stomach, his pinky slipping under the waistband of her panties; a habit he had made when she got comfortable enough to sleep without any pants on.

"Christopher," She groans slapping her hands over her face, "It's embarrassing."

"No," He grabs her wrists and pulls her hands from he face, "it's not. She's just a friend, I promise. She wanted to post those for some P.R. bullshit. I barely know her." He swears, looking into her innocent green eyes. His left hand plays with the hair on her forehead and his right hands still lies on her stomach and halfway in her underwear.

"You don't understand, Chris. I already have a hard time being your friend because of your fans. Sometimes I question if any of this is even worth it and then when I see shit like this, other women who just think you're young and sexy, claiming you and shit, it just makes me wonder if I'm really your best friend or if you just keep me around because you feel like you have to. There are so many women who could have, who should have you, but I feel like I'm just keeping you from being happy. Fuck, I mean, I react like this when someone just posts some bullshit about you. It's actually pathetic Chris. And not to mention, Paige is gorgeous. Like, the kind of beautiful you think is made up. Shes blonde and skinny and kind and social and successful, and everything I'm not. Just seeing you with her, looking so happy and so friendly and close. It made me want to tear my skin off, Chris. I've never felt like that before, and it's really scaring me."

Chris looks stunned next to her, his hand frozen on her head and on her waist. He closes his eyes and shakes is head, "Wait back up. One, fuck my fans and what they have to say about you. I love you more than I love any single one of them. Two, you are my best friends. Always have been. No other woman is ever gonna come between that. Third, sure Paige is pretty, but you. Oh, Belle, I call you princess for a reason. You are the most beautiful woman I have seen and I never want to hear you say you aren't, what was it, skinny, kind, social and successful ever again, do you understand?" He grabs her jaw and forces her face on his. She just stares into his eyes and nods like she's under a spell. "You are a goddess to me, Isabelle. If I have to get your name tattooed on my forehead and that promise burned into my skin for you to believe me, I will." He looks down into her eyes once more, his grip still strong on her chiseled jaw.

She leans into his warm body, his bare chest on display for her to touch. She flattens her hand against his left peck and stares into his blue eyes. His right hand moves to the small of her back, his pinky still in her panties. He presses her body into his, pushing her stomach into his groin. The two of them suddenly become very aware of two things: (1) The meaning of the conversation they just had. (2) The lack of clothing both of them have on. Chris clad only in his boxers and her in his sweatshirt with no shirt or bra and a pair of tiny lace panties.

"I don't just love you, Isabelle," He whispers, "I'm in love with you. You're my best girl, always have been. I can meet a thousand girls like Paige and you'll always be my favorite girl."

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that," She sighs, before stretching her neck to meet his, her nose brushing against his.

"God, Isabelle, you're gonna be the death of me", Chris breathes, before roughly pressing his lips against hers. He rolls himself onto his back, with his back pressed against the headboard. He grabs her hips and hoists her over his lap, allowing her to straddle his thighs. She places her hands on his shoulders as his hands roam her tiny body. The kiss is wild and wet as their tongues exchange saliva between them. Isabella involuntarily grinds her hips down into his, but Chris is too caught up in the kiss to notice.

"Tell me, ma', " He breaks the kiss and catches his breath, "Say it. Tell me you love me. I can't keep kissing you if I don't hear you say it."

She leans into his ear and blows a soft breath, causing his body to shudder, "I'm in love with you, Chris. I always have been."

With that, his hands squeeze her waist and his lips are back on hers. The kiss is rough and passionate and insanely sloppy. This time, when Isabelle swivels her hips on his, his breathe hitches and his hands shoot out to stop her, "Baby, baby." He pulls away form the kiss and the loss of suction sounds around the room, "You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you right now, but I'm too tired to fuck you how you deserve. I need you to answer me honestly Princess, will you be able to control yourself if I don't stop now?" He tilts his head. She bites her bottom lip and gives him guilty fuck me eyes, shaking her head. "So do I have to stop?" He questions one more time to be sure.

"I think so," She drops her hands from his shoulders and places them on his thighs behind her, her hips still moving slightly against his grip.

"That's okay. We can go to bed, I can hold you as much as I want. and in the morning, we can figure all of this out and if you're good, I'll fuck as hard and as good as my best girl deserves, how's that sound? Hm?" He questions, running his hands up her waist, teasingly tugging on her panties and letting them snap back every here and there.

"Fine, I guess." She gives in and flops over to her side, off of his lap, turning away from him.

"Ma' ," He chuckles softly, "I'm doing this for you, ya' know kid? I could fuck you right now, but it wouldn't be that good and you know that." He pulls her back over to face him and hikes her thigh over his lap and stomach as he lays down beside her, he head resting on his chest.

"Mhmmm" She hums annoyed and tired, lazily bucking her hips against his literal hip bone and groin.

"Settle, ma', " He whispers gripping her hip tightly and turning off the lamp. The two fall asleep, her hands curled up under her jaw and his hands roaming every inch of the body that will soon belong to him.

///

a/n: alright! how do we feel? i definitely got a little carried away and i'm not sure how i feel. let me know please! also, let me know if ya'll want a part 2.

like and reblog pls!!! i need my blog to grow....

all the love, she ☆

part 2 here!!!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x oc #chris sturniolo x fem!oc #childhood best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #fluff #angst with a happy ending #light angst #light smut #dom/sub #Spotify

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imagine-it-was-us · 8 days ago

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love me not pt. 1 || Carlos Sainz

Inspiration: Ravyn Lenae x Rex Orange County "Love me not"

Author's note: Okay. First of all. I just clicked with this song. On repeat for the last month. And of course, when I have an obsession like that, the next thing is "which one would suit this?" and it was Carlos. But second thing – I know nothing about the man. So of course, everything is pure fiction. Finally, I put the vote earlier, if I should split it in five chapters or post it whole. Let's meet in the middle – let's make it a trilogy.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x female reader

Warnings: mentions of nsfw, drinking, ghosting, toxic relationships.

Summary: They started as a spark – fast, reckless, impossible to ignore. One night turned into something more. But when love feels like a push and pull, when you only know how to leave before you're left… how do you stay?

Word count: 2k+

They say one of the hardest things to tell when you meet someone new is whether it's chemistry or compatibility. That slow-burn, meant-to-be magnetism, or just the thrill of something new pulling you in too fast.

Usually, one of the people involved is emotionally educated enough to catch it and point it out – to step back when needed, to draw the line between what’s fleeting and what’s real. But when two people who've never truly known what love feels like sense that first spark, things don’t burn slow. They ignite.

Carlos saw her before he knew he was looking. Somewhere between sipping a drink that cost too much and forcing a smile at another stiff conversation, his eyes landed on her across the room. It wasn’t dramatic. There was no slow-motion, no spotlight. Just... stillness.

She wasn’t even trying to be noticed. That was the worst part. Or maybe the best. She just existed in a way that made the space bend around her. Laughing too politely at some old man's joke, glass in hand, other arm crossed like she was holding herself up. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and that, somehow, made her more unforgettable.

Carlos wasn’t unfamiliar with attraction. That wasn’t new. He’d had his fair share of fast flames and blurry mornings. But this was different. This wasn’t lust. This was gravity.

She was the kind of person you feel before you understand why. The kind that forces you to notice the parts of yourself you usually keep hidden. And somehow, he knew that she wasn’t new to leaving wreckage behind. That she’d been wrecked, too. So when their eyes met across the noise, and she didn’t look away first, something shifted.

When she was in his hotel room hours later, pressing her body against his and tearing through the fabric of a shirt that cost more than most people’s rent, it felt like a win.

The sparks between them didn’t flicker. They crackled. Every movement was fast, impulsive, like they were trying to outrun something. Her fingers dug into his back with the same urgency as his grip at her waist. Like they weren’t sure whether they were trying to pull each other closer, or hold themselves together.

The room was full of heat, motion and unspoken things. Lips on skin. Hands grasping like they needed proof the other was real. Not love, nowhere near it. There were just two people trying to feel something intensely enough to matter.

Sex was great. Of course it was. But it wasn’t the sex that stayed with Carlos.It was after.

When the chaos died down and the air between them finally cooled, neither of them moved. They should’ve rolled away. Should’ve mumbled something about early calls or tight schedules. Should’ve treated it like every other late-night mistake dressed up in good lighting. But they didn’t.

Instead, she turned her head toward him, cheek pressed to the pillow, one leg still tangled with his. Her eyes were softer now, the armor slipping. And somehow, that unraveled him more than anything else.

They talked. At first, just the easy stuff – the chaotic rhythm of race weekends, the blur of airports and hotel lobbies, the strange loneliness of a life spent in motion. They joked about always packing too light or too much. The weird comfort of never fully unpacking anywhere.

But then it edged deeper. That kind of depth that sneaks up on you. She talked about the constant change. How her work kept her moving so much she forgot what a full closet looked like. How she’d gotten good at goodbyes, so good that hellos started to feel dangerous.

He told her about growing up in a world where performance came before presence. Where love felt conditional, like something earned with results, not freely given.

They both spoke like people who had grown up with absence. Who knew how to spot silence in a crowded room. Who had learned that being strong often just meant being alone, and surviving it. There were long pauses between their words, but they weren’t awkward. They were loaded.

He’d never talked like this with someone he’d just met. Hell, he barely talked like this with people he knew. She didn’t ask for more than what he gave, but she listened like it mattered. Like he mattered. And that stayed with him longer than the warmth of her skin. Longer than the press of her mouth on his. Longer than he wanted to admit.

They both had this look in their eyes, like they didn’t expect anyone to stay. Like they’d learned not to ask people to. And somewhere between his hand resting lightly on her hip and her voice barely above a whisper, something unspoken was built. Not a promise. Not even a beginning. Just a pause in the chaos. They fell asleep like that – pressed into each other, not out of passion, but out of a need to feel like someone was there.

When morning came, they didn’t rush. They exchanged numbers with tired smiles and half-laughed at the idea of keeping in touch. They both knew they’d see each other again. F1 was small, in its own strange way. He was a driver. She was behind the scenes, managing one of the big sponsors’ campaigns. Their paths would cross.

But still.

Neither of them reached out. Not because they didn’t want to. But because wanting to was unfamiliar territory. And when you’ve built your life around not needing anyone, desire feels like weakness.

So the number sat untouched. No message. No check-in. Just potential, quietly buried under habit. Because even if something felt different, acting like it meant something – that was a risk Carlos had never learned how to take.

And neither had she.

When someone crashed into him, he knew it was her before he saw her. Even though they’d hooked up almost a month ago, the scent of her perfume was stitched into his memory, woven in with the unforgettable, unexplainable moments they’d shared that night. She instinctively grabbed his arms to steady herself, sincere apologies spilling out before she even looked up and met the deep gaze of his dark brown eyes.

“Oh, Carlos. Hi”, she said calmly.

One might expect some unresolved tension after weeks of silence – the awkward kind that lingers in the air like smoke. But not between them. They were too used to being temporary in people’s lives. Too practiced in slipping in and out without a trace. So this unexpected encounter didn’t carry any hard feelings. Just a faint, charged curiosity.

“Well, it was bound to happen, no?” Carlos chuckled. They were working in the same environment; avoiding each other forever was impossible.

She smirked, brushing a crease from the front of his fireproof suit before stepping back, putting just enough space between them to make it feel professional.

“Yeah, I guess the universe had to throw me into you. Literally.”

He tilted his head, one corner of his mouth lifting. “You always crash into people you ghost?”

Her lips parted in mock offense, though a sliver of guilt flickered in her eyes. “Hey, I didn’t ghost. I… floated,” she muttered, the first excuse that came to mind.

The truth was, she had been thinking about him. Catching glimpses of him in the paddock during the last few GPs, stealing glances that never quite turned into anything more. But she was too stubborn to admit that one night left its mark. That it stayed with her longer than she thought it would.

Carlos laughed. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is now,” she shot back. “And for the record, you didn’t text either.”

He shrugged, hands sliding into the pockets of his race suit. “Didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

There was a beat of silence – not awkward, but full.

Carlos had wanted to. He’d stared at her number in his phone more than once, thumb hovering over the screen like it might burn him. But something in him pulled back, the same way it always did.

It wasn’t pride. He’d been down this road before – where something felt too good, too real, too much. And every time, the ending looked the same: someone wanting more than he knew how to give. So he’d simply learned to stay in control, keep people at just enough of a distance that they couldn’t see the whole mess underneath. The real attachment – that was the risk. And that was the one thing Carlos wasn’t willing to lose control. At least, not yet.

She knew she wouldn’t be getting a deeper answer than that, so she switched the topic — but kept the conversation alive.

“So, you racing angry or calm today?”

“Always calm.”

“Liar,” she said, and he loved how easily she called him out.

Carlos looked down, then back at her. “You staying for dinner after the GP?”

She hesitated just long enough to make it interesting. She liked that she could be unapologetically herself around him – teasing, bold, entirely unbothered. And the best part? He could take it. He didn’t flinch.

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether or not you’re still lying after the race.”

Now that fate had thrown them another shot, she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. She wanted more than half-answers this time. Even if the idea of letting someone close terrified her, she was ready to risk it, but only if he was willing to do the same.

Carlos smiled wider now, like she was already in his plans.

“I’ll drive honestly. You bring the wine.”

And just like that, they walked off in opposite directions, but the space between them had changed. It wasn’t distance anymore.

It was anticipation.

This time, they didn’t bail on each other. No vague texts. No unspoken hesitations. They showed up exactly as promised – on time, present, and willing. The so-called dinner never even made it past the idea of a table reservation. Instead, they wandered through quiet streets of the unfamiliar city, aimlessly but together, like people who weren’t looking for anything specific except more time in each other's company. Eventually, the night led them to a beach just outside the city. The sand was cold, the sea restless, but they stayed anyway, perched close on a weathered bench as the hours slipped past them.

And just like that first night, their walls came down like dominoes. The conversation wasn't forced. It spilled out naturally, full of ranting about the strange carousel of their lives, the constant travel, the loneliness of hotel rooms, and the exhaustion of pretending everything was fine. They swapped stories from their past, bruised memories that shaped who they were or the way they loved. There was no big moment, no dramatic declaration. But somewhere between her laughter in the dark and his quiet listening, they both stepped into something deeper. Without a question being asked, the decision to move forward – as something more – was made. It just happened.

One night turned into another, and another after that. Then came the GP weekends where they were no longer on opposite sides of the paddock – she stayed in his hotel room, and her coffee mug started showing up beside his toothbrush. She began texting him songs at odd hours, filled with lyrics that reminded her of things she didn’t know how to say out loud. He started sending pictures of the cities he passed through without her: skyline views, soft dawns through rain-blurred windows, little snapshots that quietly said “I wish you were here”. Her name wasn’t etched on his doorbell, but there was space for her in his closet in Monaco. There was a rhythm now, a new kind of normal. And maybe they weren’t saying it out loud, but they were building something. Letting each other in – slowly, imperfectly, completely.

So imagine her surprise when, one night, while partying with some of the other drivers in a packed Monte Carlo club, she saw his hands wrapped around somebody else.

next part

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cherrrydragon · 9 months ago

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➤ you need to be yourself (love someone for loving you instead of someone really cool)

← back to main masterlist

read it on ao3

SUMMARY ↳ Tim Drake and you, throughout the years. Growing up changes things, after all. You've always valued your independence, your ability to navigate life on your own terms. Yet, beneath that independence lies a yearning—for connection, for understanding. There’s a realization settling in—a realization that friendships, like all relationships, evolve and change as you get older. You've grown alongside Tim, but perhaps you've also outgrown some aspects of your dynamic. You’ve noticed the way his muscles flex when he stretches, the way his arms have gotten bigger and you’ve seen a glimpse of his toned stomach. He’s grown up, as seen by his body. But growing up doesn’t just change your body. It also changes your mind. pairing: tim drake x fem!reader warnings: reader gets grazed with a bullet, but i think thats it (other than the angst, that is) tags/notes: unrequited love but not actually unrequited love, hurt/comfort, angst w/ a happy ending, friends to lovers, this fic was inspired by Best Friend by Rex Orange County. wc: 6.9k

You first met Tim Drake at a gala.

Your parents had promised you ice cream if you behaved well. You didn’t want to go in the first place, but the promise of a sweet treat was too tempting for your little eight-year-old mind.

Dressed in your best clothes, you arrived at the grand event, feeling overwhelmed by the opulence and the throngs of well-dressed adults. You stuck close to your parents, clutching your mother’s hand tightly as you navigated the sea of guests.

While your parents mingled with other attendees, you found yourself near the dessert table, eyes wide with anticipation. Your father said not to try anything without permission, but he didn’t say from who. Now, you have to figure out who to ask and how to ask them. Words never came easily to you.

There’s a boy coming up to you. Maybe you can ask him. Maybe not, he looks like he’s your age. An adult would know better.

“Hi, I’m Tim,” he said, offering you a smile that seemed a little too mature for his age.

You introduced yourself shyly, still focused on the food. Tim seemed to sense your discomfort in the unfamiliar environment.

“Do you want to go somewhere less boring?” he asked, glancing around to ensure no adults were watching.

Nodding eagerly, you followed Tim through the maze of guests until you reached a quiet corner of the gala hall. There, hidden from the prying eyes of the adults, Tim produced a small bag of chocolates from his pockets.

“All the chocolates have weird stuff in them. These just have chocolate,” he explains, handing one to you.

You nibble on it gratefully, taking a seat with him on a nearby bench. The two of you chatted about school, favorite toys, and the best flavors of ice cream. Kid stuff, you know how it is. Tim tells you about his parents' business, about why their work is important and that they’d appreciate your parents’ support.

“You should tell your mom and dad about my mom and dads work,” he insists. To be honest, you weren’t paying all that much attention to what he had been saying, but you’ll tell your parents about it since he asked.

Your mom shakes her head when you tell her, muttering under her breath, “They’re making their son network?” You didn't quite understand what your mother meant at the time. You only remember wanting to share ice cream with him.

From that day on, your paths crossed frequently at various events. Tim quickly became one of your closest friends, someone who understood your quiet nature and often helped you navigate social situations. You find out you’ll attend the same school, which makes you happy.

You’ve never been one for friendships. You simply just prefer being alone, often labeled as ‘mysterious’ by your peers. But Tim has dutifully kept the title of your best friend for years now.

The thing is, you’re not sure you're his best friend.

Tim Drake has his friends, and all you have is him. There’s the pretty blonde, named Stephanie, the other pretty blonde, Cassie. The lively one named Bart, and the cool one named Conner. Sometimes Tim invites you to hang out with them, but you’re not stupid. You know there’s a disconnect between you and them. You feel like you're constantly missing something when you’re around them.

You stop hanging out with them, and eventually Tim stops asking. He must’ve noticed, though, since he starts coming over to your place every Friday for movie night.

At first, it’s a bit awkward. Tim brings over some of your favorite movies, trying to rekindle that old spark of friendship. You sit side by side on the couch, munching on popcorn and watching the screen, occasionally sharing a laugh or a comment.

As the weeks go by, you start to relax into this new routine. Tim is patient, never pushing you to talk more than you’re comfortable with. Sometimes, in the quiet moments between movies, he asks about your day, your thoughts, your dreams.

One Friday evening, after a particularly intense movie, Tim turns to you with a serious expression.

"I miss hanging out with you, you know," he admits quietly. "I know things have changed between us, but I still value our friendship a lot." He scratches the back of his neck. “I know I’ve been busy lately, but a lot of things have happened. Out of my control.”

You glance at him, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of you wants to explain why you pulled away, but another part just wants to enjoy this moment of peace with Tim. You nod slightly, not quite sure what to say.

Tim smiles softly, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder gently. "Thanks for letting me come over every week. It means a lot to me."

And just like that, the tension eases between you. You realize that maybe friendship doesn’t always have to fit into a predefined mold. Tim understands you in a way that no one else does, and you’re grateful for his presence in your life.

You try-out for the volleyball team. You make it.

It becomes a staple in your life. Your afternoons are filled with shoes squeaking on the gym floors and sore muscles. The practices, the games, the friendship with your teammates—it all starts to feel like a natural extension of who you are.

The friendship with your teammates.

They form a group chat, adding you in it of course. It stops being used only for practice announcements and starts being used as ‘life’ updates from your teammates. They gossip about who they like, who they dislike, their boy troubles. You don’t say much, but when they ask you for your opinion, you give it. Apparently, you give really good advice.

You’re sixteen when you realize you’re in love with Tim Drake.

You’re not sure how long exactly, but you know that you’ve craved his presence since you’ve met him.

Tim introduces you to his boyfriend, Bernard. He’s blond. You think Tim might have a thing for blondes.

You tell Tim this later, when Bernard leaves. He only shrugs.

You wonder why you didn’t realize when Tim dated Stephanie. Probably because they dated when you and Tim were estranged. Maybe the reason you two became so was because they dated. You don’t know.

You've always known Tim as your best friend, the person who understands you better than anyone else. But realizing you're in love with him changes everything. It's a mix of emotions—joy, fear, uncertainty. You start noticing things about Tim that you hadn't before—the way he smiles, the way he talks about his interests with such passion, the way he looks at you sometimes when he thinks you're not paying attention.

That last thing might be delusion on your part.

But Tim has Bernard now, and you respect that. You value your friendship with Tim too much to jeopardize it with your feelings. So, you bury your emotions deep down and try to focus on being the best friend you can be.

“What about you, [Name]?” asks Mina, libero of your team. Mina is notorious among your friends as the one with the most boy problems. You’d never say this out loud, but you think she doesn’t know that you don’t always need to be in a relationship.

“Any boy troubles?”

Your shoelaces can’t get tied fast enough. “No.” Because there’s not. Tim has his own boyfriend. There’s no you and him, apart from being you being his friend and him being your best friend.

Lilly, setter, gives you a playful nudge, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Come on, spill! There's gotta be someone you're crushing on."

You chuckle nervously, shaking your head. "Really, there's no one."

Your teammates exchange knowing glances, clearly not convinced. You've always been more reserved about your personal life compared to them. They respect your privacy, but sometimes they can't help but tease. You’ve come to realize that it’s just a friend thing.

Senior year is a calm year.

Most people describe it as the most stressful yet chill year of them all. Stressful, because after this life is going to be serious and suddenly you’re swamped with creating a resume and applying to colleges. Chill, because you can simply just not do all that, and barely show up at all.

Your parents want you to go to college, but assure you that if you don’t want to, you’ll always have a place at their company. Nepotism is a beautiful thing.

You think less of Tim and think more of making this volleyball season the best it can be. It’s your senior year after all, when better to go all out? You become the reason your team wins their games. The star ace.

During the final game of the season, Tim meets you out back, just before you have to go out on the court. He's holding a bouquet of flowers—violets and peonies. His smile is nervous, uncertain, but there's a warmth in his eyes that you've come to recognize as affection.

"Hey," he starts, handing you the bouquet. "I know this might be a weird time, but there's something I've been wanting to tell you."

Your heart skips a beat as you take the flowers, your mind racing with possibilities. Could this be...?

"I've been thinking a lot lately," Tim continues, his words coming out in a rush now. "About us, about our friendship. I realize I've been a bit... oblivious, maybe. And I just wanted to say that I really appreciate you, [Name]. More than anyone else in my life."

You feel a mix of emotions—hope, confusion, and a twinge of disappointment. You try to keep your expression neutral, not wanting to betray your feelings. You’re not sure what you were thinking. You should’ve known better.

You tentatively reach out to take the bouquet. It’s pretty. “You should’ve probably saved them for after the game.” It’s meant to be a joke, but you’ve never been too good at making those.

Tim chuckles softly, his nervousness easing a bit at your attempt at humor. "Maybe. I wanted to give them to you now.”

The bouquet feels heavy in your hands, the flowers vibrant and fragrant against your fingers. “Thank you.”

You play with all your might. Sweat beads at your temple as you leap in the air. It feels like flying. You play with a fierce determination, channeling your emotions into each move, each serve, and each spike.

You spot Tim in the crowd as you’re in the air. He's watching you intently, his eyes filled with pride and admiration. The game seems to blur around you as you lock eyes with him. You almost miss the winning point.

You're surrounded by your teammates, celebrating the victory, but your eyes search for Tim. He's waiting for you at the edge of the court, a proud smile on his face.

As you approach him, still breathless from the game, he envelops you in a hug. "You were amazing out there," he says sincerely, his voice filled with admiration.

"Thanks," you manage to reply, feeling a rush of emotions—pride, happiness, and a lingering uncertainty.

“I like seeing you do things you love.” He should stop saying things like that.

Tim wants to take you out to dinner to celebrate. You initially decline, and he looks a little confused by that.

“My coach said she’d take us out to eat if we won,” you explain.

“Oh,” he says.

“Don’t worry about what Coach said, [Name],” says Anne, captain, laying a firm hand on your shoulder. “Go spend time with your boyfriend. I’ll ask her to reschedule.”

“Tim’s not my–”

“That’s okay,” smiles Tim. It’s his showman smile. “I don’t want to keep [Name] from spending time with you.” He doesn’t deny that he’s your boyfriend. Why doesn’t he deny that he’s your boyfriend?

Anne grins, fierce and sharp. “Take her out to dinner.” And that’s that.

Tim keeps a friendly hand on your back as he guides you out. “Let's go to that place we talked about last week," he suggests, his voice almost as sweet as the victory that's just come to pass. "I promise it'll be worth it."

You're filled with a mix of emotions as you walk alongside Tim, still processing everything that's happened. The restaurant is cozy, with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Tim seems relaxed, chatting about the game, your performance, anything really. Tim’s always had a way of capturing your attention.

“Bernard and I broke up.” You almost don’t register the info, too focused on watching his face.

You furrow your brows. “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I did something?” he asks dryly.

“Have you met you?”

“Nothing happened.” He rolls his eyes. “It just didn’t work out.”

“Oh,” you reply softly, unsure how to respond to Tim’s revelation. You hadn’t expected he would talk about his relationship status, and would’ve preferred if he hadn’t. Tim continues to look at you, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you’re not sure what to say.

The atmosphere between you feels a bit heavier now, the weight of unspoken feelings lingering in the air. You've always valued your friendship with Tim above anything else, and while part of you feels a pang of sympathy for his breakup, another part wonders what it means for your relationship with him.

By the time dinner ends and you're walking back together, the tension that had briefly surfaced seems to have dissipated. Tim is back to his usual self, cracking jokes and teasing you playfully about your volleyball skills. You find yourself smiling, grateful for the comfort and familiarity of your friendship.

As you part ways for the night, Tim gives you a warm hug, holding onto you for just a moment longer than usual. "Thanks for tonight," he says sincerely, his voice quiet.

"Anytime," you reply softly, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "I'm glad we could hang out."

Tim nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he finally heads off. You watch him go, your mind swirling with thoughts and emotions that you're not quite ready to unpack yet.

In the days that follow, you notice subtle changes in your interactions with Tim. He is pulling you closer to him. He has taken you to more private places just to hang out. He seems more attentive, more considerate of your feelings and preferences. He makes an effort to spend more time with you, whether it's grabbing lunch together between classes or inviting you over for movie nights more frequently.

You feel a flutter of hope in your chest with each of these gestures, but you push it down. You know better.

Tim stops going to school for a while, and it feels like you're back to square one. Back to when he found better ways to spend his time, with others who are not you.

You meet a boy. He’s nice and he’s cute. You like him well enough, and he seems to genuinely enjoy your company. Your friends say that you guys are cute together.

He asks you on a date to a local cafe, and you agree. It's a pleasant afternoon, filled with easy conversation and laughter. He listens intently as you talk about your interests, your dreams for the future, and he shares his own aspirations with you. It feels comfortable, uncomplicated.

Comfortable and uncomplicated never last long for you.

“This is a goddamn robbery!”

Two warning shots go off, and people scramble out of their seats to cover. What kind of asshole robs a cafe? You hide under the table, mind scrambled by the sudden change of events. Your hands scramble to grab on to your date, for comfort or for reassurance you don’t know, but you don’t feel anything.

You see your date round the booth and run out of the door. He left you.

You’re left alone and bewildered, shaken by the sudden chaos. Your heart races, adrenaline pumping as you try to make sense of what just happened. Fucking asshole , he just left you!

“Put the gun down, sir.”

There’s someone in the doorway. You peek out from under the table, heart still racing, and see him—Red Robin. He’s a figure of black and red. His presence commands and reassures.

The robber hesitates, gun wavering slightly as he eyes Red Robin warily. It’s a stand-off, tense and uncertain.

“I said put the gun down,” Red Robin repeats calmly, stepping forward with measured confidence.

The robber takes slow steps to the side, gun pointed at the vigilante. Every step taken to get closer has the robber threatening to shoot. “Easy, just put it down and we can talk,” Red Robin continues, his voice steady and calm. The tension in the cafe is strong, everyone holding their breath as they watch the standoff unfold.

The robber’s hand shakes as he weighs his options, eyes darting between Red Robin and the patrons cowering behind tables. His legs carry him closer and closer. He’s.

He’s getting closer to you.

You try to move further under the table, but the robber lunges down and grabs your arm, twisting his and pulling you up. You yelp as there’s suddenly something cold pressed to your head.

“I’ll blast her brains out.”

"Let her go.” Red Robin's voice is suddenly deep and menacing.

The robber hesitates, glancing between you and Red Robin. He tightens his grip on your arm, causing you to wince in pain.

"Let her go now," Red Robin repeats, his tone firm and unwavering. Your breathing starts to pick up.

Suddenly, there's a blur of motion and a loud thud. The robber cries out in pain as he releases you, stumbling back from the force of impact. There’s a loud sound and suddenly there’s a searing pain in your side.

You whimper and stumble to the floor, holding your side. There’s a rush of movement around you as you crawl away. You hear sirens. The police are here. What good they were.

“Hey. Heyheyheyheyhey. It’s okay.” A hand removes yours and replaces it. You look at them. They’re covered in blood. “It’s just a graze. It’s okay.”

Red Robin is at your side muttering reassurances into your ear. You whimper when his hand applies pressure to your wound. He shushes you quietly. “You’re fine.”

Then his voice breaks. “You have to be.”

There’s a heavy thud of boots in your directions. “Red Robin.” It’s Batman, in all this terrifying and dramatic glory. Batman, with a quick glance at you, shifts his attention to the situation at hand. “She needs medical attention.”

Red Robin helps you sit up a little, keeping pressure on your wound while Batman assesses the situation. The cafe is now surrounded by police, and the robber is being apprehended. "Stay with me," Red Robin urges softly, his voice a comforting presence amidst the chaos. "You're going to be okay."

Paramedics arrive shortly after, quickly attending to your wound. Red Robin stays by your side, explaining what happened to the paramedics and keeping you calm. It’s strange, how easily you’re comforted by his presence.

You're taken to the hospital for treatment, where the doctors confirm that your injury is indeed just a graze. Your parents are the first to arrive, appearances rustled. Your mother sheds a tear, even after you tell her that it’s just a graze, that it could’ve been a lot worse. That makes her cry harder.

Your friends arrive next, rushing through the door. You ask how they found out what happened, and they say they were secretly watching your date from across the street. They ridicule your date, having saw how he ran away first thing. You can’t bring yourself to be irked with them.

No one else comes to visit.

You’re allowed to go back to school after a week. Tim is there, waiting by the entrance. He perks up when he sees you. You stop in your tracks as he makes his way over to you.

Tim embraces you in a hug, unexpectedly. You can’t bring your arms up to hug him back. He must notice, because he unwraps from you with a cough.

"...Hey," Tim says softly, his eyes searching yours. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?"

You nod, not being able to bring yourself to say anything. He nods as well. “That’s good.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Tim…” you sigh, finally. He perks up at your voice, looking at you earnestly.

“Do you want to go somewhere? The park? We don’t have to do anything, we can just. Sit. I don’t want you to pull your stitches or anything–”

“You weren’t even there.”

Tim shuts up, staring at you. You don’t look at him, perhaps afraid. You’ve never truly spoken your mind, preferring to simply deal with it and move on. But you… deserve better.

“I waited for you to come visit,” you whisper, looking down at your shoe. “But you never came. Did you even know?”

His hands hover in the air uselessly. “I. Of course I knew–”

“Then why didn’t you visit?” Your brows furrow. “Is that asking too much? For you to just, show up? While I’m sitting in the hospital because I barely missed being shot?”

“I was busy!”

“You’re always busy,” you groan.

Tim's expression tightens with guilt as he listens to your words, his usual composed demeanor faltering. He runs a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. "I know... I know it's not an excuse, but things have been crazy, and I... I should have been there for you. I'm really sorry."

“It’s the same thing everytime.”

“[Name]?”

“You’re not there. You apologize for not being there. I accept, we move on. And then it happens again.”

Tim's shoulders slump slightly, and he takes a moment before responding, his voice quieter now, tinged with regret. "I... I don't want it to be like that. I want to be there for you. I want to... I want to do better. You just… you don’t know what I have going on in my life.”

You glance up at him, meeting his gaze. His sincerity is evident, but so is his struggle with balancing his responsibilities. You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of frustration and a longing for understanding.

“I don’t know because you don’t tell me anything,” you mutter.

He takes a step closer, hesitant but determined to bridge the gap that has formed between you. “I’m sorry, but please. You're… you’re my best friend.”

You shake your head. “You’re my best friend. I’m just… convenient for you.”

Tim's expression softens, hurt flickering across his features before he shakes his head. “No. No, please don’t think that.”

“What else am I supposed to think?”

Tim's eyes search yours, pleading for understanding. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I... I know I've let you down. And I'm sorry for that. You mean more to me than just convenience. I don't always… know how to balance everything.”

His admission hangs in the air, vulnerable and raw. You feel a pang of sympathy mixed with frustration. Tim has always been your closest friend, but for a long time, it's felt like he's slipping away, caught up in his own world.

“Can you just,” you pause, feeling like your entire world just shifted on its axis. “Leave me alone?”

“...How long?” he croaks.

You hesitate, the weight of your words heavy on your chest. "I don't know, Tim. I just. I need some space right now."

He nods slowly, expression twisted with anguish. “Okay,” he says softly. “Whatever you want.”

You wanted him, but that’s not possible.

Tim stands there for a moment, as if searching for something else to say, but ultimately turns away. You watch him go, feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow.

Days pass, and Tim respects your request for space. The halls of school feel different without his constant presence, a reminder of the void left by his absence. You start spending time on rooftops at night. You find solace in the quiet, away from the complexities of school and relationships. The city lights spread out beneath you, casting a gentle glow on the world below.

You've always valued your independence, your ability to navigate life on your own terms. Yet, beneath that independence lies a yearning—for connection, for understanding.

There’s a realization settling in—a realization that friendships, like all relationships, evolve and change as you get older. You've grown alongside Tim, but perhaps you've also outgrown some aspects of your dynamic. You’ve noticed the way his muscles flex when he stretches, the way his arms have gotten bigger and you’ve seen a glimpse of his toned stomach. He’s grown up, as seen by his body.

But growing up doesn’t just change your body. It also changes your mind.

It changed the way you see Tim. He’s matured into a strong and confident person, and you can’t help but notice the way he holds himself now. He’s more than just your childhood friend—he’s become someone you admire for his determination and resilience. Yet, amidst this newfound admiration, there’s still a part of you that remembers the boy who used to share chocolates with you at galas, who understood your quiet nature and sat by you during movie nights.

You can try to move on. You can hang out with other people, but he’ll always be in the back of your mind. You know you miss him. Every time you see him at school, you feel a pang of longing, mixed with a hint of resentment.

“You shouldn’t be out so late.”

You don’t move your head from where it’s rested on your arms on top of the ledge. Footsteps echo closer, until a figure clad in red maneuvers himself to sit on top of the ledge. Red Robin has decided to pay you a visit. You hope he doesn’t think you’re up to no good.

It’s silent for a moment, only the sound of wind rustling and cars moving able to be heard. The vigilante coughs, fidgeting.

“...You didn’t tell me why you were out so late.”

“You didn’t ask,” you mutter, finger trailing the surface of the ledge.

“I guess I didn’t,” he chuckles awkwardly. He shifts, the dim glow from the city below casting a subdued light on his features. His suit blends with the shadows, making him seem almost ethereal against the night sky.

“It’s just that,” he pauses, straightening his shoulders once he seems to find his confidence. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out alone so late.”

You raise a brow at him, which makes him falter ever so slightly. “I’m on a rooftop. There’s no one else here.”

“I’m here,” he points out.

“You are,” you agree. “So now that you have me alone, are you gonna do something to me?”

He sputters, waving his hands. “No! No, God no. I promise. I help people, not–” he stops, hearing a sound. It’s your laughter. It’s nothing grand, but it’s genuine. The vigilante relaxes a gentle smile on his face as he takes you in.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, eyes closing. It’s pretty late. You could honestly fall asleep here. Red Robin lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his shoulders dropping in relief. “Bad joke.”

“No, no. It was good,” he assures. “You got me good.”

The moment stretches between you, filled with the easy silence of two people who have unknowingly shared many quiet moments together. Red Robin’s presence is both comforting and disconcerting.

A finger gently pokes you, stirring you awake. “Sleep at home, not here.”

You blink a few times, slowly lifting your head from your arms, feeling the cool breeze brush against your cheeks. Red Robin’s face is close, concern etched in his features. You yawn, stretching out your limbs and reluctantly pushing yourself up from the ledge.

“Are you not sleeping well?”

“No more than usual,” He offers a hand to help you stand, and you take it, feeling the strength in his grip. Once on your feet, you dust off your clothes and glance around the rooftop, a part of you reluctant to leave the serene view behind.

“Let me walk you home,” Red Robin offers, his voice gentle but firm.

“Sure.”

As you walk together, the city around you hums with a nocturnal life of its own. The streets are quieter, but not entirely deserted. Red Robin stays close, his presence reassuring. You steal glances at him. Something about him feels familiar. Maybe it’s just because he’s friendly.

When you turn back to thank him once you’re at your front door, he’s gone.

It becomes a routine, meeting him on that rooftop. Sometimes he doesn’t show, you feel eyes watching you when you’re walking back home. The days blend into nights, and you find yourself looking forward to those moments on the rooftop. The city feels different when you're up high, watching from a vantage point few ever see. It's a perspective that offers clarity, a place where the noise of everyday life fades into the background.

One evening, you arrive on the rooftop to find Red Robin already there, leaning against the ledge, gazing out at the city. He turns when he hears your approach, his expression softening.

“You’re early tonight,” he comments, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Needed some fresh air,” you reply, settling beside him. “And some company.”

He chuckles softly, the sound blending with the distant hum of the city. “Well, you’ve got both now.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that speaks volumes without needing words. You find yourself studying him, noticing the way his eyes reflect the city lights, the slight tension in his shoulders that eases the longer you sit together.

“Why do you come here?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence. His tone is curious.

“I like being alone,” is all you say.

He nods thoughtfully. “I get that. Sometimes it’s easier to think when you’re away from everything else.” He looks at you. “Surely you’re not lonely though, right?”

“Lonely?”

“Like…” he hesitates, “you have friends?”

“I do,” you hum, furrowing your brows. “But. I don’t know. The girls on my team are nice, but I don’t really feel all that connected to them.”

“Is there no one you feel connected to?”

“There was somebody, but,” you trail off, looking towards the skyline. “People change. I guess I just can’t keep up.”

Red Robin listens quietly, his gaze thoughtful. "Change can be hard," he agrees softly. "But it's also inevitable. We all grow, evolve... sometimes in different directions."

"Yeah," you murmur, staring out at the city lights. "I guess that's part of growing up."

He whistles slightly. “So, who was that somebody?” You raise a brow at him. “If you’re comfortable sharing, that is!”

“Didn’t take you for a gossip,” you mumble.

Red Robin laughs softly, the sound light and almost musical against the backdrop of the night. “It’s not gossip if I’m just listening.”

You consider his words, your gaze drifting back to the cityscape. “It was my best friend,” you admit quietly. “We grew up together, shared everything. But lately... things have changed. We’ve changed.” You sigh softly. “Sometimes I wonder if I did something wrong, or if it’s just... life.”

“I’m sure you did nothing wrong,” he whispers.

“I was in love with him. I think I still am.”

The admission hangs in the air between you, heavier than any silence that had come before. Red Robin shifts beside you, his posture suddenly more alert, more focused on your words.

"In love?" he repeats softly, as if testing the weight of the phrase.

“I kind of realized it when he introduced me to his then boyfriend. But by the time I understood my feelings, it felt too late. He has friends and big things happening for him, and all I have is him,” you mumble. “But I guess I don’t have him anymore.”

“He let me down so many times and I don’t even have it in me to be angry with him. I just wish he chose me.” You turn to face him.

Red Robin's expression is unreadable beneath his mask, but there's a softness in his eyes that wasn't there before. He listens intently, not interrupting your flow of words, allowing you to spill the feelings that have been bottled up for so long.

Your face turns sad. “But maybe I’m being selfish.”

Red Robin's hand moves slightly, as if he's about to reach out to you, but he stops himself, clenching it into a fist instead. "It's hard," he says gently. "Loving someone who doesn't see you the same way, or who can't be there for you like you need them to be."

You stare at him as he continues, “I know it can’t compare to what you felt, but I’ve been so upset for the longest because I couldn’t share this part of my life with you.” He gestures to himself. “I was angry I couldn’t share with you the crazy things that happen on patrol or rely on you to patch me up if things go bad.”

The fog in your head clears. You look at him in confusion. “What?”

“But I was also so scared of bringing you into this life. I didn’t know if you felt the same and I thought I would just be dragging you into something that wasn’t worth it.”

You blink, staring at Red Robin in shock as the realization dawns on you. The pieces start to fit together—the familiarity, the way he seemed to know you, the concern in his eyes.

“Tim?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he removes his mask, revealing the face of your childhood friend. Tim’s eyes are filled with vulnerability and a hint of fear, as if he’s terrified of what you might say next.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you for so long. I wanted to protect you, but I ended up hurting you instead.”

Your heart races as you take in his words, the weight of his confession settling over you. The anger, confusion, and longing that have been building up inside you finally find an outlet.

“I thought,” he pauses, finding the words, “if I stayed away, you would be safe. You’d find other people and you wouldn’t need me anymore.” He shakes his head. “But I couldn’t stay away. You weren’t selfish [Name]. I was.”

The night seems to stretch on, the air tense with unspoken words. You look at Tim, still grappling with the shock of his revelation. His vulnerability pierces through the stoic facade you’ve seen him wear as Red Robin. The weight of his confession hangs heavy between you, stirring emotions you’ve kept buried.

You get up and start walking away.

Tim winces and reaches out to you. “[Name]–”

You whirl around. “I told you to leave me alone ,” you snarl. “So you go and play nice with me in your stupid costume? You pity me or something?”

Tim's expression shifts, hurt flashing across his features before he schools it into a mask of determination. "No, it's not pity. I care about you, [Name]. I've always cared." His voice is earnest, pleading almost, as if he's trying to convey the depth of his feelings without fully exposing himself.

You start pacing. “God, everything I told you–”

“I was just worried about you–”

“I trusted you.” you whisper.

He looks up at you, his expression pained. “I know I messed up. I should have been honest with you from the beginning.”

“Yes, you should have,” you snap, the anger rising in you like a tidal wave. “You had no right to decide for me.”

“You’re right, it was wrong.”

“Wrong doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you retort, your voice trembling now with a mix of anger and hurt. “Tim, I thought you were my friend.”

“I am your friend,” he insists, his voice desperate now, pleading for you to understand. “I’ve always been your friend. I–”

“[Name],” he pleads. “I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the intensity of his confession crashing into you like a rogue wave. Tim stands before you, vulnerable and raw, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding, of forgiveness.

“That’s why I did the things that I did.” His hand reaches out to gently take yours. “Because I thought I wasn't enough for you, and I know I don’t deserve you, but I still love you.”

His hand, warm and trembling, rests gently over yours. The city lights cast a soft glow on his face, revealing the sincerity in his eyes. Your emotions churn in a tumultuous sea of anger, hurt, and disbelief, struggling to find their place amidst his confession.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The silence is thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Tim's gaze never wavers from yours, a mixture of hope and fear etched into his features.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I know.”

“I deserve better.”

“I know.”

You sigh deeply, head dropping. “Maybe it’s too late,” you say quietly, your voice wavering. “Maybe we’ve both changed too much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re so unfair,” you growl, eyes growing wet. “I was trying to move on, and then you just come and do this.”

Tim winces.

You run a hand down your face tiredly. “And I still love you. God. Maybe I hate myself just as much as I hate you.”

“Don’t say that about yourself–”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

You point both fingers at his face. “You. You owe me so much.”

He nods rapidly. “I’m talking months, years of making this up to me,” you say, eyes looking into his. “You’re gonna do anything I ask and tell me anything I want to know.”

“Whatever you want, pretty.”

You raise a brow. He purses his lips. “Sorry. You’re kind of hot right now.”

“I’m always hot.”

“You’re right, I apologize.”

You glance at Tim, your anger softening. Despite everything, his familiar charm still manages to tug at your heartstrings. You let out a resigned sigh, realizing that beneath the hurt and confusion, there's a part of you that still cares deeply for him.

Your hands cup his face. “I’m going to kiss you now. You don’t deserve it, but I want it. And this will be the only one you get for a while.”

Tim’s eyes widen, and he takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what’s about to happen. He places his hands on your waist, tightening when you don’t bat him off.

As you lean in, you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. Your lips meet his in a kiss that is both fierce and tender, a complex blend of longing and frustration. The contact is electrifying, igniting a myriad of feelings that have been pent up for too long. For a moment, the world around you fades, leaving just the two of you amidst the city lights and the quiet of the rooftop.

Tim responds with a desperateness that contrasts with the tenderness of your kiss. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid you might disappear. The kiss lingers, neither of you rushing to pull away, savoring the connection despite the turmoil that surrounds it.

Tim presses a few fleeting kisses as you pull away. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, not sounding sorry at all. “Who knows when you’ll let me kiss you again.”

“You’re such a loser. Why do I love you.”

His smile goes stupid. He shoves his face into your neck. “You love me.”

You sigh, leaning into his embrace despite yourself. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

The two of you stand on the rooftop, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city sprawled out beneath you. In that moment, amidst the complexities and uncertainties of life, you find a sense of peace—a realization that perhaps, despite the changes and challenges, some things are meant to endure.

“I’ll do right by you,” he vows.

You nod, feeling a bittersweet satisfaction. The process of healing and rebuilding trust will take time, but there’s a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, things can start to mend. You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence. “Let’s just take things one step at a time. I don’t want to rush this or force anything.”

Tim wraps his arms around you, his hold gentle but reassuring. “You won’t be. I want this bad. But whatever you want.”

Eventually, and hesitantly, Tim pulls away from you. “It’s late. Please let me take you home.”

He offers his hand, and you take it.

Tim struggles to let go of your hand as you open your front door. You compromise with a kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Tim.”

His face goes red. “Goodnight, [Name],” he replies, his voice carrying a note of hope and promise.

You close the door behind you, feeling a renewed sense of clarity. The complexities of your emotions are still there, but you have a newfound hope that things can be mended. The city outside continues its nocturnal dance, but up on the rooftop, amidst the shared moments and honest confessions, you’ve found a glimmer of possibility. And for now, that’s enough.

notes: tim only went up to you at that gala because of his parents, but his little 8 year old self saw a cutie and said fuck it we in this for life

#tim drake x reader #tim drake angst #tim drake fluff #dc x reader #red robin x reader

365 notes · View notes

moonysunrulytoast · 1 month ago

Text

situations that have happened in my friend group that are marauders & co coded part 1:

dorcas driving, evan passenger princess, sirius in the backseat

sirius: okay so you’re coming to mine?

dorcas: yes. did you call remus to let him know to meet us?

sirius: shit no one sec

sirius : *on the phone* hey i’m so sorry my love but we actually decided to meet at mine and not at the beach anymore

dorcas: *fake vomits*

remus: but i drove out here :((((

sirius: i know babe but ill see you very soon okay?

remus: okay.

sirius : love you!

remus: yeah. yeah. love you too. *hangs up*

cass: you know they aren’t dating?

evan: when will they learn?

cass: i don’t know, i really don’t. and the other one’s even more clueless than that one. no idea how. that one’s in denial but the other one doesn’t even realize there’s something to deny.

sirius: *coughs* ANYWAY so i’ll meet y’all at mine?

evan: YES sirius

sirius: cool. i was just checking

evan: we’re stopping by mine first though so i can drop off xeno’s bong

sirius: what happened to yours?

evan: broke it after barty and i broke up last. kinda crashed out.

sirius: riiiight. and remus and i are the complicated ones.

evan: never said you were complicated. just stupid. and blind.

sirius: OKAY anyway. *pats down pockets* do i have everything?

cass: looks like it.

sirius: bye! *runs across street to car*

sirius: *unlocks car, goes to pull up maps*

sirius: *realizes the lump in his pocket is box of cigarettes and not his phone*

sirius: shit. shit shit shit. i don’t know where i am. how am i gonna get home?

sirius: oh my god i’ve been using apple pay. i don’t have my wallet either. how will i LEAVE the parking garage???

sirius: *runs out and frantically searches for dorcas’s car…no one’s there*

sirius: well i guess this is my life now

sirius: *ransacks car for coins and finds $2.47*

sirius: well.. i can only hope for the best.

5 MINUTES LATER

sirius: parking was only $2??? this is fine!! i can find my way home! idk why i doubted myself.

FORTY FIVE MINUTES LATER

sirius: okay so i might be lost… none of these streets look familiar and… FUCK my gas’s gauge is on E and i don’t have gas money oh my god

(sirius parks at a nearby store and asks a girl for directions. she smiles at him and helps him out. he realizes he’s 25 miles away from home. on empty. in orange county. when he’s supposed to be in LA. he thanks her, goes back to his car, and kicks the wheel)

sirius: well.

sirius: we can only hope for the best now.

(sirius then spends the next 40 minutes bargaining with the universe to let the gas make it home- because he’s too pretty to be stuck on the side of the freeway at 10pm on a friday)

FORTY MINUTES LATER

(sirius speeds home and SOMEHOW runs out of gas right as he pulls into his driveway)

dorcas: HOLY SHIT WE THOUGHT WE LOST YOU. OH MY GOD.

sirius: how long have you been here?

evan: a little over an hour

dorcas: oh thank GOD you’re okay here we have james on the phone (dorcas hands her phone to sirius- who takes it urgently)

sirius: james???

james: what the fuck is going on??

sirius: i got lost. but im back!! no worries. you’re with lily right? helping her move her stuff?

james: yeah- they called me. you got lost again??? how??? you know what? i don’t wanna know. you’re okay?

sirius: yeah i’m okay prongs

james: okay see you later pads. love you

sirius: love you! *hands phone back to cass, notices remus*

sirius: oh when did you get here love?

remus: not long after they did- we’ve been hanging in cass’s car.

sirius: WELL LET ME TELL YOU IT HAS BEEN AN INTERESTING NIGHT

remus: (to cass, a fond smile breaking out on his face) what did i say?? there’s a story. there’s always a story.

sirius: well YEAH there was a story. i was MISSING

remus: (to sirius) you ran out of gas didn’t you

sirius: I RAN OUT OF- oh yeah i did. haha. how’d you know that?

remus: thought as much

cass: (to remus) you were… very spot on lupin

remus: (to cass) things always work out for him, but only after spiraling out of control. i don’t know how. he’s somehow the luckiest and least lucky person i know.

cass: (to sirius) …. i called everyone.

sirius: shit. everyone??? oh god.

cass: reg might have freaked out and almost left work to find you

sirius: oh god. you called reg??? he’s gonna lecture me when he gets home.

remus: yeah. he will. if it helps i did tell them not to

sirius: damn it. he’s gonna be so mad. this is the second time i’ve gotten lost this year. it doesn’t help we were hanging out without him- he can be so territorial with you guys

remus: he asked if you were drinking

sirius: (aghast) WELL! I NEVER!! how dare he??? i got lost because im dumb not because i’m crazy

evan: we smoked a spliff on the street ten minutes before we left

sirius: shut UP rosier

remus : *smirks* sounds about right

sirius: i was NOT high!!

remus: why was your gas so low in the first place?

sirius: i was late to the hangout- planned on getting gas on the way back

cass: GOD you’re ridiculous

sirius: well how was i supposed to- wait, why’d you call prongs?

evan: we thought he’d know your phone password- then maybe we could track your keys and find you.

cass: your keys are tracked right? since you lose everything all the time?

sirius: oh my god i didn’t even think of that

evan: on that same note- why didn’t you call your own phone?

sirius: what?

evan: you could’ve called your phone with someone elses? then we could’ve come found you??

sirius: oh. oh i didn’t think of that

cass: hoW did you not think of that???

sirius: i asked to use someone’s apple maps!!

cass: you- you asked-? but you didn’t? okay. from the beginning- what happened???

sirius: well let me tell you- follow me we’ll go inside.

———————————————————————

How the rest of the night went is below (it’s less interesting, just was kind of domestic and oddly on brand so i thought i’d tell you how it went down)

(sirius unlocks the door and plugs in the lights while he continues telling his story ~dramatically~. when he finishes the whole group laughs about it for a bit before evan starts looking antsy.)

evan: alright we better go. if i get home too late barty gets grumpy

sirius: oh?

evan: yeah. he’s secretly kind of a brat

cass: it’s not a secret

evan: *sighing dramatically* take me home?

cass: of course. *cass turns to sirius as she stands up from the couch* we’ll hang again soon for sure

evan: yeah *evan nods at sirius* you’re actually pretty cool black, when you’re not getting lost in the middle of nowhere that is

sirius: (huffing) okay yeah yeah ha ha get out of my house

cass: (to remus, ignoring sirius completely) always good to see you remus *cass smiles warmly*

remus: you too cass

evan: yeah- nice to see you again lupin

(remus nods and sirius walks them out)

remus: so… just us again i guess

sirius: it does always seem to end up this way huh?

remus: yeah- funny that

sirius: (smirking) i heard you went birding earlier *sirius shakes his head at remus fondly* how was your-

(peter all of the sudden rushes through the door, singing a tune softly to himself)

peter: oh hey guys! oh- moony! i didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight!

remus: when am i not here?

sirius: (to remus, indignant) hey! that’s not fair! it’s been at least a week since you were last here. not since you picked me up from the airport last saturday!

remus: yeah. wild that. a full week. who’d have thought it possible? *remus smiles at sirius fondly*

peter: ahem. *peter clears his throat as he shucks off his shoes at the door* well! i’m just getting back from a show. actually, if you two want to come by and see me do some standup soon i’m performing next tuesday! neither of you have seen my set yet.

sirius: (to remus) ooooh he’s funny *sirius wiggles his eyebrows and peter rolls his eyes. remus fights back a smile*

remus: tuesday you say?

sirius: (to peter in a singsong voice) we’ll have to seeeee

peter: *snorts* okay well if you two decide to drive to new mexico or something tonight let me know. don’t wanna be left out of your tomfoolery.

sirius: tomfoolery?? us??? *sirius gasps, clutching his chest and peter rolls his eyes again*

peter: oh please.

remus: (to sirius) he’s got a point you know. you and i are a dangerous team. always ready to run off.

sirius: i suppose.

peter: whatever- just keep me posted if you do go anywhere *peter goes upstairs*

sirius: (to remus) my room?

remus: your room.

(sirius and remus follow peter upstairs and lay on sirius’s bed facing each other & talking for two hours before the front door opens and shuts again)

remus: okay so what would you say makes a bad person a bad person? like what’s the line?

sirius: oh so we’re going ethics now oka-

(reg knocks on the open door and stands in the doorway of sirius’s room)

reg: so you got lost. again.

sirius: (pulling away a bit from remus and sitting up) oh! reg! yeahhh. it’s okay though! it’s actually a really funny story-

reg: i had to go on break

sirius: what do you mean?

reg: i told my coworkers you were missing and then had to go on break

sirius: awe reg you do care

reg: no i don’t

sirius: (singsong voice) you were worried about me!

reg: i was WORRIED that i was going to have to file a missing person’s report.

sirius: whatever you say-

remus: (sitting up and sensing a pointless argument) it was fine though! everything worked out.

sirius: yeah!

(reg looks at each of them for a moment before sighing, resigned)

reg: you wouldn’t believe the night i’ve had

remus: oh?

reg: (undoing his tie) the event tonight was INSANE. a catholic school parents’ event. we’ve never sold that much alcohol in one night. AND it was only mary and i at the bar!

sirius: oh wow

reg: right? and the whole time dedalius *sirius mouths “his manager” to remus while reg keeps going* was just WATCHING US, only interrupting ONCE to ask if we need help the useless bastard. so naturally i asked him if he could cut some limes since we didn’t have a barback and get this, when he cut the limes he brought ALL of them to the upstairs bar with emmaline and gilderoy. left none for us.

sirius: that’s annoying. intense night huh?

reg: so many little things. it was just so IRRITATING. now it’s 1am and i have the be BACK at the event space at 9am. ugh i need to sleep

remus: damn reg- i hope you sleep well at least!

reg: oh i won’t be sleeping

sirius: (to remus) he never sleeps (whispering) insomnia

reg: (unimpressed) well if you guys want to smoke outside i’m gonna go do that.

sirius: nah i don’t think so

remus: ahh no not today

reg: okay. well. come join me if you want.

(reg walks away. there’s the sound of a screen door opening and closing in the background)

remus: hey- at least the lecture was brief

sirius: (fondly staring out of his door) he’s a hateful little guy isn’t he?

remus: yeah. he is

sirius: ANYWAY (starts up past conversation)

FIVE MINUTES LATER

sirius: so in a way the answer is, as many other answers to ethical questions are, “it depends” and that’s-

(reg walks up and leans against the wall for a moment before stepping forward, interrupting sirius)

reg: so neither of you came out to sit with me.

sirius: *sirius is visibly startled before pouting* it’s colddd reg. and you didn’t Ask us to!

remus: (to reg) wait i didn’t realize you wanted us to sit with you. thought you were just being polite.

sirius: *snorts* reg?? polite?? hah!

reg: (to sirius) are you quite finished?

(sirius smiles sheepishly and reg looks at him for a moment before looking to remus and speaking)

reg: (raising an eyebrow) you two sure have been spending a lot of time together

sirius: (reddens slightly) haha yeah

remus: yeah, we have *remus smiles like this delights him, unaware of sirius’s embarrassment*

reg: (somehow both amused and annoyed- something only sirius can pull off with him) it’s just….we were gonna do that puzzle together remember? the big one downstairs? i found a frame for it so we could glue it down.

sirius: oh my god yeah! *sirius feigns interest for remus’s & reg’s sakes* i completely forgot about that!

remus: that sounds great! i’ve been wanting to puzzle

reg: (feigning disinterest) well i’ve just been waiting for you guys to ask about it. since you’re always doing something together these days.

sirius: (face noticeably more red this time) hah ha yeah

remus: (unbothered) so when are you free??

reg: i’ll text you. night.

sirius: good night reggie!!

remus: night reg!

(regulus backs out and swiftly walks away. shutting his bedroom door behind him. remus and sirius lay back down and talk facing each other, hands under their cheeks for two more hours)

remus: (yawning) i should really go home

sirius: yeah it’s pretty late. there’s a lot going on tomorrow. lily’s moving out of state officially

remus: oh shit i bet james is freaked

sirius: yeah. i’m staying with him tomorrow night to make sure he’s okay

remus: that’s… that’s good. that’ll be good.

remus: (cautiously) do you think it’s hurting reg’s feelings? you moving out of here and in with prongs now that lily’s going to grad school?

sirius: maybe. but i really think he’ll like the new roommate i found, pandora. they have a lot of similar interests and she’s… different. i think they’ll fit together. plus we need some space i think- we tend to suffocate each other a bit. i have a good feeling about it.

(they walk down to the front door together)

remus: well… i’ll see you monday!

sirius: yeah :) definitely. thank you so much for that by the way

remus: of course! i’m actually kind of looking forward to it

sirius: (bemused) oh really? you’re looking forward to helping me move?

remus: (quietly) maybe.

remus: (a little embarrassed) i’m excited to drive the big truck okay? is that a crime?

(remus and sirius look at each other for a moment. sirius shakes his head and smiles going in to hug remus. remus hugs back)

remus: (a little awkwardly) i have to uhh leave now. to go home

sirius: (chuckling) yeah. you do that.

remus: (walking backward) right.

sirius: (smiling softly again) goodnight moony :) *sirius closes the door*

remus: (quietly) good night pads.

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curiositymemes · 1 year ago

Text

STICK SEASON: WE'LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER.

taken from the 2023 album by noah kahan. trigger warnings for mental illness, trauma, medication, references to suicide, and the exquisite agony of life in rural new england. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

northern attitude.

how you been?

you settled down?

you feelin’ right?

you feelin’ proud?

you settle in to routine.

what does it mean?

i’m not how you hoped.

you’re gettin’ lost.

scared to live, scared to die.

you’re feelin’ lost.

stick season.

you must’ve had yourself a change of heart.

now i am stuck between my anger and the blame that i can’t face.

it’s half my fault, but i just like to play the victim.

i’ll dream each night of some version of you that i might not have but i did not lose.

i thought that if i piled something good on all my bad i could cancel out the darkness i inherited from dad.

i miss the way you laugh.

you once called me forever now you still can’t call me back.

that’ll have to do.

my other half was you.

i hope this pain’s just passin’ through, but i doubt it.

all my love.

how have things been?

well, love, now that you mention it.

i’m sayin’ too much, but you know how it gets out here.

now i know your name, but not who you are.

it’s all okay, there ain’t a drop of bad blood.

you got all my love.

if you need me, dear, i’m the same as i was.

what i’d give to have you out of me.

i still recall how the leather in your car feels.

and at the end of it all, i just hope that your scars heal.

i swear i was scared to death.

i smiled stupid the whole way home.

you said, ‘i’ll never let you go.’

she calls me back.

there was heaven in your eyes.

everything’s alright.

look at me and don’t you lie.

don’t you hold your head up high.

for bullshit, i do not have time.

do you lie awake restless?

why am i so obsessive?

this town’s the same as you left it.

the radio is taunting me.

i don’t get much sleep most nights.

i’m seeing you in every dream.

if only i could fall asleep.

i’ll love you when the oceans dry.

i was too afraid of living life in your footsteps.

come over.

it was there when we got here, will be there when we leave.

you won’t have to guess who they’re speakin’ about.

i’m in the process of clearin’ out cobwebs.

i was takin’ the wrong meds; feels good to be sad.

my house is just barely big enough for my family.

my mouth was designed for my foot to fit in it.

i promise you, darlin’.

you won’t ever go back.

i know that it ain’t much.

i know that it ain’t cool.

you don’t have to tell the other kids at school.

someday i’m gonna be somebody people want.

new perspective.

makin’ me nostalgic.

we were kids; but that don’t make this less hard.

if i could fly i doubt i’d even do it.

i’d probably get high and crash or somethin’ stupid.

gave me your word.

i can’t pronounce it.

no thing so sure that i can’t learn to doubt it.

everywhere, everything.

would we survive in a horror movie?

we trust everyone we meet.

we’re littered with scars from our preteens.

i wanna love you ‘til we’re food for the worms to eat.

‘til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours.

i know every route in this county.

maybe that ain’t such a bad thing.

i’ll tell you where not to speed.

it’s been a long year.

orange juice.

honey, come over.

it’s yours if you want it.

we’re just glad you could visit.

feels like i’ve been ready for you to come home for so long.

i didn’t think to ask you where you’d gone.

why’d you go?

my heart has changed and my soul has changed.

you just asked me to hold you.

it made you a stranger and it filled you with anger.

my life has changed.

the world has changed.

don’t you find it strange that you just went ahead and carried on?

are we all just pullin’ you down?

strawberry wine.

darling, speak to me.

don’t you say a word.

you thought you were cursed?

i’m in love with every song you’ve ever heard.

if i could lose you, i would.

all the time we used to have.

the things i miss but know are never coming back.

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft.

growing sideways.

finally found some middle ground.

i said, ‘i’m cured.’

i divvied up my anger into thirty separate parts.

i’m still angry at my parents for what their parents did to them.

it’s a start.

but i ignore things and i move sideways ‘til i forget what i felt in the first place.

i know there are worse ways to stay alive.

everyone’s growing and everyone’s healthy.

if my engine works perfect on empty, i guess i’ll drive.

i forgot my medication, fell into a manic high.

now i’m sufferin’ in style.

why is pain so damn impatient? ain’t like it’s got a place to be.

if all my time was wasted, i don’t mind.

i’ll watch it go.

it’s better to die numb than feel it all.

halloween.

the dawn isn’t here, the sun hasn’t rose.

they got money to make and children back home.

i worry for you, you worry for me.

the bridges have long since been burnt.

i’m leavin’ this town and i’m changin’ my address.

i know that you’ll come if you want.

i’m losin’ myself.

i’m seein’ my life on a screen.

i know that you fear that i’m wicked and weary.

i know that you’re fearin’ the end.

i only tell the truth when i’m sure that i’m lyin’.

homesick.

are you bored yet?

the weather ain’t been bad if you’re into masochistic bullshit.

this place is such great motivation for anyone tryna move the fuck away from hibernation.

time moves so damn slow i swear i feel my organs failing.

i stopped caring ‘bout a month ago, since then it’s been smooth sailing.

i would leave if only i could find a reason.

i got dreams, but i cant make myself believe them.

i’ll spend the rest of my life with what could have been.

i will die in the house that i grew up in.

i’m homesick.

still.

i don’t wanna say goodbye.

it only falls into place when you’re fallin’ to pieces.

you miss something that you can’t place but you can’t deny it.

you can’t stay here.

it’s hard to face and it feels too ugly.

it’s like i’m still here with you.

can i fix what is broken?

the view between villages (extended).

for a minute, the world seems so simple.

i am not scared of death.

i’ve got dreams again.

there is meanin’ on earth.

i feel so far from it.

it’s all washin’ over me.

i’m angry again.

the things that i lost here, the people i knew.

they got me surrounded for a mile or two.

i found a town big enough for anything i want.

i’m not a city girl, by any means.

it still has a lot of meaning to me.

i grew up there.

your needs, my needs.

you ain’t gotta tell me what it means.

i promise to be there this time. alright?

you were a work of art.

that’s the hardest part.

i’m naming the stars in the sky after you.

dial drunk.

i promised to forget you.

i ain’t takin’ any fault.

am i half the man i used to be? i doubt it.

forget about it, whatever.

it’s all the same anyways.

i ain’t proud of all the punches that i’ve thrown.

for the shame of being young, drunk, and alone.

i gave your name as my emergency phone call.

i’d die for you.

from charmin’ to alarmin’ in seconds.

i’ll let the pain metastasize.

i beg you, sir, just let me call.

let’s wait, i swear she’ll call me back.

son, are you a danger to yourself?

fuck that, sir.

son, why do you do this to yourself?

paul revere.

this place had a heartbeat in its day.

nothin’ was the same.

it just ain’t that simple, it never was.

one day i’m gonna cut it clear.

i’m not from around here.

i’ll leave before the road crew’s out.

i’ll turn up the music and i’ll forget.

i’m not ready to let go yet.

i’ll just pretend i didn’t hear.

it’s typical, i fear.

folks just disappear.

if i could leave, i would’ve already left.

no complaints.

i thought i had something and that’s the same as having something.

i get mad at nothing.

i pull no punches, then feel bad for months.

thought i was raised better, tried to fake better.

now the weight of the world ain’t so bad.

i saw the end, it looks just like the middle.

i filled the hole in my head with prescription medication.

who am i to complain?

now the pain’s different. It still exists, it just escapes different.

yes, i’m young and living dreams.

i’m in love with being noticed and afraid of being seen.

call your mom.

oh, you’re spiralin’ again.

don’t you cancel any plans.

stayed on the line with you the entire night ‘til you let it out and let it in.

don’t let this darkness fool you.

i’ll drive all night.

i’ll call your mom.

oh, dear, don’t be discouraged.

i’ve been exactly where you are.

if you could see yourself like this.

you’dve never tried it.

stayed on the line with you the entire night ‘til you told me that you had to go.

throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason.

don’t wanna drive another mile wonderin’ if you’re breathin’.

won’t you stay with me?

you’re gonna go far.

this is good land, or at least it was.

it takes a strong hand and a sound mind.

it makes me smile to know when things get hard, you’ll be far from here.

pack up your car.

put a hand to your heart.

say whatever you feel.

be wherever you are.

we ain’t angry at you, love.

you’re the greatest thing we’ve lost.

the birds will still sing.

we’ll be waiting for you, love.

we’ll all be here forever.

we spent so long just getting by.

that’s the thing about survival; who the hell likes livin’ just to die?

you told me you would make a difference.

it won’t be by your own volition if you step foot outside this town.

it’s all we’ve had for always.

you’re gonna go far.

if you wanna go far, then you gotta go far.

forever.

let’s drive for no reason.

you look fine in the evening.

honey, it’s starting to storm.

used to wish i meant anything to anywhere, to anyone.

i’m glad i get forever to see where you end.

i won’t be alone for the rest of my life.

i’ll meet a girl in the heat of july.

i’ll tell her so she knows.

i’m broke, but i’m real rich in my head.

when i hold her close, i might loosen my grip, but i won’t ever let her go.

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britt-kageryuu · 4 months ago

Text

Leo is playing Geoguesser on stream.

Though because of technical difficulties with the 3D models, he's using 2.5D cartoony Red Eared Slider model.

The chat is trying to give their input, but Leo knows that chat can't always be trusted with this game.

"Okay, I may not be as big a plant guy as Dee, but those trees look like they might be from ..." Leo brings up the map, "Right around here!" He moves the mouse around a spot, and clicks to make a guess.

And he's only off be 50 miles.

"Ha! Nailed It!" Leo shouts while the game loads the next area.

It's obviously in a big city somewhere, though not very clear at first.

"Wait! I know where this is!!" Leo says while he starts to move around, and looks at some close by buildings, "This is in the LES of Manhattan! Like I know that hotdog cart! Pretty good if a bit pricey."

Leo keeps moving around talking about somethings in the area.

"So if I go back to the start point," Leo does this, and opens the map to zoom in on a very specific spot on the map, "It's right here, not to far from that one roller rink. Cool place really."

After he puts in the guess it shows he was spot on with the "guess".

The chat was going a bit nuts with amazement.

The next location came up. It was a suburban area.

Leo moved the around abit.

"Hmm. Looks like a generic suburb that would be the backdrop of a nice sitcom in the early 2000s. Oh a trash bin." He tries zooming in on the bin. "Does that say 'Orange County' as in Florida, or California?"

Leo takes a few minutes to move around before doing a coin flip. The correct location was not the one he chose.

"Drat. Well then again I remember this kind of thing happening with us. Like we didn't realize there was another street with the exact same address as our home, like 50 miles south of here." Leo explains as he looks around the new location, "Long story short, we almost went the very wrong way to get home once, because that location was closer in the GPS than our home."

Leo pulls up the map to place a guess, and he's pretty close to the correct location, again.

"Gonna switch it up. Anyone want to challenge me in Geoguesser? I'll open a lobby. First come first serve." Leo says as he sets up the multiplayer/VRs mode of the game.

The 'lobby' filled quick, and the game started.

Many lost to Leo, and his odd knowledge of where some random places in the world are.

Leo secretly thinking, 'If only they knew I accidentally sent myself here way to many times~'

---------------------

Masterpost

Watched a few people play Geoguesser who were like "Oh, I've been here before! It's this place south of that city!" Or something similar.

And with Rise Leo's portal training, he probably went so many places that he would probably be pretty good at Geoguesser.

#VTurtles!#rottmnt au #tmnt au #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt leo #rise leonardo #rise leo #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2018 #rise tmnt #rise of the tmnt #vturtles!#rottmnt fanfic

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safetypinned · 6 months ago

Text

@bansheeslain || halloween aesthetic prompts || accepting!

smoke curling into the sky on the horizon

booted feet rest on cool grass. sat upon a blanket on top of the biggest hill he could find--tall trees with their leaves dozens of hues of red, yellow, orange, brown stretch towards the cloudless sky full of millions of bright, twinkling stars. a round, huge moon shines bright in the dark. enough that their colors can be made out even in the night. he's never been one for celebrating halloween. chalks it up to thinking it's sorta dumb. or for kids. most of the time. that's all it takes for people to pry. though he might get a ribbing or two from the true enthusiasts he had as friends throughout the years. goes far deeper than that. those closest to him know..

..when they were kids, dean always tried to get him in some sorta costume. even if it was a hotel room sheet he could con out of a kind, empathetic desk lady (or take directly from the bed itself) with a couple holes cut for eyes. get him out trick-or-treating. anything to throw them into some normalcy this time of year. even if the light of fake enthusiasm never reached either one of their eyes. they pretended. for each other. because that's what brothers do.

tonight, though? he's enjoying himself. warm cider in green thermoses with their metal lids you can use as cups. a blanket slung around both their shoulders. pumpkin treats and cinnamon apples with brown sugar he put together himself. kept warm inside their container til he made them both a bowl and offered eileen hers. in the distance? the town's pumpkin patch is having it's county famous fireworks show. smoke coils up into the sky. but splashes of bright colors explode here, there, all over. once it starts.

"thanks for coming with me," he murmurs--head turned so he can smile thankfully down at her. sam's chest is warm. so's his face. "don't know if this is your thing or not." sam signs the words he knows. makes a promise, in his head, to figure out the ones he doesn't. but he thought, maybe, they could try and make it something for them to enjoy. god knows they've earned it.

#featuring: eileen leahy (bansheeslain)#bansheeslain #thEM!#we are made from the sharpest things you'd say. (chapter ii)

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mrssoapmactavish · 1 year ago

Text

maneater - chapter one

"if you're in it for love, you ain't gonna get too far"

this is the 'first' part of the andromeda series! still working on an official title for it all, but when it's set in stone, that'll be how you can easily find these works :)

mdni at all times! ageless/empty blogs are not welcome here!!

steve harrington had always had a bit of a thing for the emotionally distant women, even if no one would dare point it out to the boy. maybe it's the abandonment from his parents, but it's most definitely not the healthiest thing in the world for him, in fact more often than not leaving him heartbroken, such is the case with the last 'girlfriend' he'd had, nancy wheeler.

after barb's disappearance, she had gone from interested like the sweet, naive schoolgirl falling head-first for the captain of the basketball team like his parents would've hoped for him– if they were actually around, mind you– to detached, then eventually very obviously palling around with jonathan byers.

after accepting the fact that nancy was never really his to begin with– and accepting the heart-aching sting of unrequited love, another emptiness in his life that swallows him whole with loneliness– things had mostly re-stabilized. he was back to hating classes, having tommy and carol still chirping in his ear like nothing had happened. like him and tommy didn't get into a fight last year around this time, before steve had been back into the endless cycle of girls throwing themselves at him, basketball, and feeling oh so alone.

and now, lo and behold, the year he's bound to graduate and he's been applying to colleges and universities left and right, he saw billy hargrove and his two sisters.

sure, he already had a bone to pick with billy himself– the kid had the whole bad-boy thing going on, all the girls that hadn't had a chance to get swayed or swooned over king steve were utterly enamored– but he was pretty indifferent about the young redhead, knowing that the kids would eventually have something to say and he'd get an earful secondhand from nancy.

no, his interest was in the dirty blonde in the leather jacket with cherry-red lips and a furrow in her brows.

she'd been cold and detached when he had first approached her. fine, cool, he totally gets it. but seeing the way billy had given him the nastiest side-eye for greeting his sibling? it lit a fire in him, something he hadn't really felt for a while, and seeing her in his first class of the day stoked it, the flames licking within him, even if he can feel the sting of guilt knowing that this new student is just as interesting to him as nancy had been.

his eyes were locked on her, even as he pretended to laugh along with whatever stupid jest tommy had made that had carol smacking his shoulder and lecturing him, and the way she shifted her balance from foot to foot in front of the class as the insufferable chem teacher continues to ask her about herself.

"we moved from orange county. me, my brother, our half-sister, step-mom and our dad." her tone is full of boredom; she'd rather be anywhere but here, he can feel it coming off of her in waves, but his curious mind swirls at all the possibilities of what she'd rather be doing.

the thought of the girl in a cheerleading uniform just didn't fit. no, she's not the type of girl to spell out a cheer, to shake those ruffled pompoms and get the crowd roaring with excitement. nor was she the sports type; the idea of seeing her in short volleyball shorts is being filed away for later, though, don't get him wrong.

no, the first thought that comes to his head about what she would be doing is something steve harrington would've avoided a year ago.

it's strange to him; he'd never been a big fan of heavier music, always preferring catchy, danceable songs about love, parties, and other light topics, but he could close his eyes now and hear music blasting from an amplifier. she's the type to smell like vanilla and cinnamon, mostly to cover the smell of nicotine from sharing a pack with that ratty brother of hers.

the longer he watches her clash against the teachers' attempt to integrate the outsider into the class community, the more he can imagine of her. the type to drink beer at a party, to hang around whatever friends her brother had because the girls bore her with their chatty nature and mindless gossip.

as much as he wants nothing to do with the 'hargrove' name, he'd give up as many practices as possible to get so much as a glimpse into this girls personal life.

watching the girl walk with confidence but no real anger in her gait to the back of the class, sitting herself down at a table with no other students to be left the hell alone, steve finds himself staring down at his watch. he could swing skipping practice today, maybe, just to see if she'd talk to him more.

"this kinda looks like your old girlfriend, hahaha!" - scotty, evil dead (1981)

steve is, quite honestly, indifferent about the fact that he didn't choose to just skip basketball practice today. on the downside, hargrove is here, smirking and snide and really just giving far too much sass, making him seem like a scrawny kid who only got called the captain of the team because he was king steve.

he'd be absolutely fuming and ready to bitch and moan about this all afternoon and evening to anyone who'll listen– tommy, probably, and try to tone it down a bit more when he's around nancy later– if there wasn't a certain cherry-lipped blonde sitting on the stands, flipping through some boring, keep-you-busy magazine.

sure, he knows the girl won't talk much with him, but it means that the very least he can do is focus more on the game, if only to selfishly hope he'll catch her eye and at least be talked to more than a scowled out greeting. he's dying to talk to someone who doesn't know him as the same prick he was throughout highschool, he's realized.

someone who doesn't, hasn't, or never will associate him with that horrid label of king steve. maybe someone who'll look at him, what he does hanging around the school and occasionally chauffering around some of the kids, and see someone interesting. valuable. worth her time.

too bad his train of thought distracts him from keeping his footing, because it makes it much easier for billy to knock him off his feet, leaving steve to slam down against the scuffed gym floor. now that's embarrassing, he thinks to himself, what a way to make a first impression.

he's not sure whether or not billy had seen the glances towards his sister, he assumes it's the reason for the abrupt shove to the ground, especially in a no-contact sport like basketball. one thing he's very well aware of, however, is the pair of eyes on him from high up in the stands, watching his movements. it makes part of him feel elated; the idea of finally catching her attention, even if it's just because of a loud noise and a human concern for pain, sends a ripple of excitement through his veins.

steve is helped up to his feet, but not before billy mutters something he doesn't quite catch or process right away. "should've planted your feet," the californian mutters, then continuing on with the game like nothing had happened, the jeering and taunts continuing.

steve is no fool; knows that billy hargrove is aiming to dethrone him as king of hawkins high.

a year ago, that might have irked him. his popularity was all that kept his facade together, the glue that kept steve harrington from being exposed as a kid, desparately seeking meaningful connection, something he'd never gotten from his parents. he doesn't like seeking external validation, but because he'd never truly gotten it unconditionally from his parents, he knows it's what he needs to survive. and christ, what's so wrong with him that he doesn't deserve even a single attaboy?

but now? now that he and nancy have been slowly falling apart and he's having to face the fact that he's lost his first love, who he's been turning around for, reforming from his old ways for? now that tommy hagan and carol perkins are only faking friendship with steve, all because steve wouldn't let them call nancy a whore for hanging around jonathan byers?

he couldn't care less. as long as he has something to keep his mind off of the loneliness that seeps into his bones, a reason to stay as far away from his empty home as possible, a reason to come to school every day.. he's alright. at least, he hopes he is.

as he puts on the facade of not being affected or rattled by this entire revelation from the floor of the hawkins high basketball court, he notices that billy hargrove's sister watches intently from the stands, no longer bored and flipping through her magazine to occupy her idle hands and mind.

it's strange, how even just that brings a smile to his face.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things s2 #andromeda st fic #andromeda st #andromeda series #steve harrington x hargrove!reader #cherry hargrove #steve harrington x reader slowburn #billy hargrove #archers 18+ emporium

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dtyfp2 · 19 days ago

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Worthy

Evermore

“You cannot ignore the boy forever,” Alanna says as she opens the door to your room. She invites herself in, sitting across from you on the bed as she offers you half of her orange.

“I am not ignoring him,” you answer plainly as you close your book.

“You have been, but it’s alright, this is a big change for you. You should know, he’s fitting in well with the other warders, Maksim likes him, says he fights well,” Alanna tells you as you lean back into your pillows.

“That was a quick thaw,” you scoff, remembering that Maksim was ready to kill him only 1 month ago when he first joined you all.

“Have you had any visions lately, are they bothering you?” She asks you softly.

“No, but it’s not like I can ever remember them,” you answer back, only half telling the truth. But you had insisted upon it for so long, the others either believed you or left you to your secrets-for now at least.

You had returned to the tower only a few days ago, but you had barely said two words to Aemon since he joined you. To his credit, Aemon did not push but, you could feel him stare at you when you weren’t looking, he stared even when you did-unabashedly.

“He is quite handsome, don’t you think?” Alanna teases, and you can feel your cheeks go red in embarrassment.

“Alanna, I am not going to talk about boys with you!”

———————————

You mull over Alanna’s words after she leaves. She was right, you were ignoring Aemon. During your journey, you busied yourself with the ring, and once you came home you busied yourself with the library-rereading anything you could find about the last Sun Summoner, though there was scarcely anything.

You told yourself that no one asked him to come, but you knew your soul was drawn to him. You could feel it through your visions, could practically see it through them.

With a sigh, you gather your things and head to the Warder’s quarters.

You find Aemon training with some others in the center, it’s all in good fun but he has a few cuts and bruises. The warders have shed their tops to cool down and Aemon is no different. You try not to stare as you motion for him to follow you, which he does. He follows a few steps behind as you lead him outside, where there are less ears, where the wind sings in your eats, and besides…you like it in the garden.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been ignoring you, I’ve been…busy,” you start off as you sit on some grass.

“I’m okay waiting,” he says simply as he sits across from you.

“Why did you follow us for so long before?” You ask.

“I have been training to be your Soldat Sol since I was old enough to hold a blade, but I didn’t want to follow you blindly. I wanted to see if you were worthy of following,” he answers easily, as if he were an open book ready for your questions.

“And?” You ask, subconsciously sitting up straighter at his judgement.

“And…you visited the sick in every village you visited, you were kind even when the people weren’t. You are a good person, Sankta, and I am happy to serve you for you, not just because of some power you have,” he explains.

“You don’t have to…my name is Gael, you can call me Gael,” you tell him, feeling awkward at all the formality he used.

“Gael then,” he nods, as if he’s feeling the way your name feels on his lips. You don’t quite mind the way it sounds.

“Where are you from?” You ask him next.

“The Two Rivers, a little county called Emond’s Field,” he smiles softly, as if remembering the town.

“That’s where Manetheran once stood, isn’t it?” You ask, recalling the stories you had read as a girl. It was one of your favourites.

“Perhaps. They say the old blood runs deep in the people there,” he says easily as he lies down on the grass, closing his eyes as the sun shines on him.

“Does it?” You ask him curiously.

“I think so,” he chuckles as he peaks an eye open at you.

“What else do you know of the Sun Summoner?” You ask him, leaning closer subconsciously as you await his answer.

“I know that the last Sun Summoner was the most powerful female Aes Sedai during the age of legends, rivalling the Dragon in strength. She had her Soldat Sol, soldiers of the sun, who spread her word and peace, my family descended from the original Soldat Sol. I know that my family has waited for her soul to be born again, passing down her ring to remind each generation of their solemn oath and duty. I’m afraid I don’t know much more,” he tells you as he glances down at the ring you wear.

“You keep saying that this is your duty…but it doesn’t sound like you have much choice in it. You don’t have to stay, Aemon, you can go and be whoever you want to be, I won’t hold you to anything,” you tell him, suddenly feeling guilty that he has practically dedicated his entire life to you and you…were not ready to accept him, nor did you know if you’d ever be.

“I know, Gael, I am here because I want to be here. I believe in you, I want to follow you-“

“You barely know me,” you cut him off, still feeling awkward.

“Perhaps, but we will get to know each other,” he says as he leans up on one elbow. You decide to stop arguing with him, you couldn’t tell him what to do. You had told him to go if he wants to go, come if he wants to come…he could make his own decisions now.

“What makes you the Sun Summoner anyway? How are you different than any of the other women here?” He asks you as he sits back up.

“There are 5 weaves every Aes Sedai can conjure-air, water, fire, spirit, and earth…” you begin to explain, conjuring singular strands of each element.

“I have a 6th weave, one of light itself. It is stronger than the other 5, but I’m still learning how to use it properly,” you tell him, the weaves disappearing as you finish. He nods in understanding, seemingly satisfied his curiosity.

“Do you have a family, people you left behind to come here?” You ask him. He sighs as he lies back down, as if debating his answer.

“My mother died when I was a boy, sweating fever. My father…he was sick before I left. I wanted to wait until he got better to leave, but he was insistent I go. He always had an ear out for rumours about the Sun Summoner, we heard the slightest rumour out of one of the villages you visited where you healed someone, and he said I should go…because it was our family’s duty, and that our duty was bigger than him,” he answers softly.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. You could read in between the lines, hear what he hadn’t said-his father was now dead, and he with him when he passed.

“It’s not your fault,” Aemon says simply, his eyes still closed as the sun beats down on him.

“What about you? Where is your family?” He asks.

“Gone too, trolloc attack on our little village…if you could even call it that. I first touched the one power during that attack, it’s how they found me when I was a girl. They brought me here and I have been here ever since. The women here have raised me, loved me even, their warders played with me…and I love them back. Some I’m closer to than others, of course, but they have all watched me grow up, healed my scraps and bruises, helped me if I needed it,” you tell him, unusually open, so open you wonder if you have blabbered on too much. You wonder if it’s because he is Soldat Sol.

His eyes had opened as he looked at you while you spoke. Somewhere, sometime while you spoke, he had taken your hand in his. He offers you a soft smile as he squeezes your hand.

You try to hide your blush as you pull back your hand. You rarely had playmates your own age, let alone a boy.

“We should go back inside, I still have some chores to do,” you tell him as you stand, fluffing out your modest gown as you do.

“I will help you then, what is it you must do,” he asks as he also gets up, trailing after you as you walk away.

“You cannot help me, Aemon, it would be unbecoming if it looked like I was receiving special treatment,” you laugh as you tell him.

“But you are the sun summoner, you should have special treatment,” he says, as if it were really that simple.

“Special treatment got me out of this tower where you found me. Every Aes Sedai goes through her chores when she first comes to the White Tower and I will be no different,” you explain to him as you both enter the tower again.

“Thank you for offering though,” you say genuinely as you turn to face him, so not to completely shut him down.

“Will you find me again tomorrow then? We can continue talking in the gardens if you’d like,” he asks, grabbing your hand to stop you before you could disappear away.

You consider it, though you don’t immediately pull your hand away.

“If I have time,” you relent. Your answer seems to please him, because he smiles a sweet smile. It’s a smile you swore you’ve seen before, in this life or the last.

“Of course, my lady, only if your time permits,” he nods, almost mockingly.

You pull your hand back and continue walking away, not able to help your own smile. You look back once, only to find he watches you go, and offer him a small wave before turning the corner.

The next day, you make such an obvious effort to finish your chores that Alanna notes she hasn’t seen a more dedicated novice in all her years.

#wheel of time #the wheel of time oc #the wheel of time imagines #wheel of time oc

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 28 days ago

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Bad Habits [Chapter One] The Rest [Billy Loomis]

A/n: Welcome to Bad Habits, a Scream AU. The story takes place twenty-one years after the events of the first movie. As stated, it's an AU, so I wrote Billy alive. Please be patient with me. It takes me forever to update. Please enjoy. The image I'm using of him is from Jericho.

Warning(s): OC, alternate universe, Billy being Billy, town dynamics, flirting, derogatory terms, town lore, drama, exs.

No Minors Allowed!!

The first time Eden Andersen saw Luke Jameson, whom she would later know as Billy Loomis, was in the fall of 2017.

It was a warm October in Lorraine's Rest, two weeks shy of Halloween. The temperature typically cooled down considerably around the end of the month, not unusual for middle Tennessee on account of the dry humidity. It was pleasant but did not feel much like fall. Even so, Eden had a strong love for October.

It was the time for vibrant fall colors: warm hues of red, orange, yellow, and brown. And tradition.

The town of Lorraine's Rest hosted an annual celebration each year on Main Street in the yard at the Historic Alder County Courthouse—Saturday of the weekend before, if Halloween fell on a weekday. Everyone came out to celebrate.

However, one resident of The Rest spurned the festival on account of the inrush of outsiders from neighboring counties. Marjorie Whittaker, a local who argued for the sake of it, was screwy and ill-bred. One reason Eden tried to steer clear of her whenever she came around. She did not know the reason, but the grammar had it out for her.

A month ago, she showed up at Eden's part-time job. She worked as an assistant at the Arbor County Public Library. Perhaps it was a coincidence, though she doubted it. One thing was certain: she could not avoid Marjorie and her condemnatory stare.

In the afternoon, on the eighteenth, the same day that Eden met Billy Loomis, she was alone with the old bat in the reading room. Her nose was buried in Felix Blackwell's Stolen Tongues, but despite her best efforts to focus on the novel, she couldn't. It felt to her like a spotlight had been turned on her. She was uneasy. Eden tightened her jaw, peering over the countertop of the information desk that was epoxied with newspapers dating back to 1808 when the Lorraine's Rest Tribune was first printed. The bane of her existence was seated in a cushy office chair in front of a Dell desktop.

Marjorie Whittiker was not even trying to hide the fact that she was staring. Eden could see her withered face etched with wrinkles through the gap between computers two and three. She stopped only when Eden raised a curious brow as if to say, "Can I help you with something?"

Reluctantly, Marjorie returned to whatever she was doing. She came in every Monday and Wednesday to use the computer, even though she bleated about them from time to time, how technology had changed the world for the worse. According to her login, on the main computer, she had less than fifteen minutes left; fifteen minutes, and Eden would not have to see her again until next week.

Thank goodness.

Eden sat back in her chair, attempting to finish the sentence she left off on, but to no avail. She was restless now, thanks to Marjorie. Her leg bounced like a bobber under the table. She set aside Stolen Tongues and then stood, stretching her back. There were more important things that she could do, she reckoned; things she was putting off. Like shelving the books.

The cart was not filled to capacity, but it needed to be emptied. Victoria Hayes, the librarian, would scold her ass if Eden waited until the shift was nearly over again. For the next ten minutes, she shelved them, putting the books away in their proper place.

Eden was in the children's section when she heard the brass handbell on her desk chime. A sign next to it instructed those who needed help to use it. She assumed Marjorie wanted an extension, so to avoid a conflict, she pushed the cart to the side and hurried back, passing paintings on the walls of Winnie-the-Pooh, the Berenstain Bears, and other classic children's book characters.

At her desk, however, was someone else, a man in his late thirties whom she had never seen before.

"Can I help you?" Asked Eden. Once she walked around the backside of the desk to her chair, she got a better look at him.

He stood tall, swathed in a green T-shirt and a beige Wenven jacket. His features were slightly rugged, with a mix of boyish charm and intensity. Eden could not deny that he was handsome. She fidgeted under his keen stare, waiting for him to answer.

"I'd like to use the computer," he said.

Eden frowned. She knew the answer, but she had to ask anyway.

"Do you have a library card?"

"Unfortunately, no," the stranger retorted. He ran a hand through the front of his short dark hair, then wet his lips. "It'll only be for a minute. I just got into town a few days ago, and I don't yet have a computer."

As much as she wanted to help him, Eden couldn't. He was not the only person to walk through the door in need of a computer. The ones like him were just passing through and told her the same excuse, but the rules were rules for a reason. It was a shame.

"I'm so sorry. If you have a cell phone, there is a McDonald's down the road. They provide free Wi-Fi," Eden explained. She pointed toward Dixon Springs Highway. "It's barely a mile that way. You can't miss it."

The man with the keen eyes tilted his head and raised his shoulders.

"I don't have a cell phone either."

Eden did not know what she could do for him. She felt guilty. Normally, she would wish those without a card the best and then watch them leave, either in irritation or disappointment that she could not do more, but there was something familiar in his eyes, a look of defeat and sorrow, that preyed on her sympathetic nature.

"Only for a minute, you promise?"

"Cross my heart," the stranger retorted with a coy grin, running a finger across his chest.

It was a good thing that Victoria had an appointment today at Arbor County Motors. She would be mad, especially after Eden opted to let the stranger use her library card information. She motioned for him to follow her, taking him into the computer section. It was nothing impressive; two rolls of five devices back to back. On one side were desktops, and on the other, laptops.

Eden considered asking him what his preference was but assumed that he would not mind either way. The stranger slipped down into an office chair in front of an older model laptop.

“With the high school getting new computers in September, we might get to update these.” Eden was not obligated to make excuses for the library's old computers, but in this case, she felt like she had to.

The stranger said nothing in reply, most likely not interested. Eden stooped forward and ran her finger over the touchpad. The screen flashed onto the login page with the words Arbor County Library at the top. She swiftly typed in her username and PIN number, information on her card that, at this point, she could put in blindfolded. The screen flashed again, then opened up to a generic blue background image with the Google Chrome icon in the upper left corner.

"You're all set," Eden said.

She leaned back and caught the stranger staring at her ass. Eden was not even mad; she wore leggings and an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt to work today.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?” Turning her backside away from him, she crossed her arms over her chest.

He grinned, having no shame. “Luke. My name is Luke.” A practiced lie. Billy Loomis wet his lips, then rested his hands on the chair's arms.

There was no ring on his finger, Eden noted.

“And no. I'm all set.”

Eden hummed, then turned to walk back to her desk. His husky voice cut through the silence like a thunderclap.

“Don't I get to know your name, too?”

She peered over her shoulder, a little taken aback by his blatant flirting. It took her a moment to answer, though Marjorie, who shushed her, rudely interrupted her.

Billy glanced at the woman, displeased, then diverted his eyes to Eden, raising a curious brow. She merely grinned and teasingly raised a finger to her lips. He snorted, eyes on her ass again as she walked away.

–

Eden returned to the children's section to finish emptying the cart. She barely got two books shelved before the handbell chimed again. With a huff of annoyance, she ignored it for a moment to shelve Crockett Johnson's Harold and the Purple Crayon. But like a persistent mosquito, the ones that plagued the banks of the Red Creek River that cut through Lorraine's Rest, the chiming carried on.

“I swear. I'll choke her ass out if she's the one doing it.” She, being Marjorie.

Eden set aside the cart a little too roughly and stormed back to her desk. Who she saw standing there flipped her mood on its head. Jodi Buckner, her friend since fifth grade.

Hair the color of copper fell down her back and shoulders, accented by the emerald green button-down she wore. As soon as she saw Eden, a warm smile flickered across her face. The coral lipstick she had on complemented the green, a testament to just how vibrant Jodi was.

And then she opened her mouth.

“Hey, slut. You don't get in any hurry, do you?”

Jodi meant no harm. She traded barbs with Eden all the time; it was just the type of person she was, open-spirited. And Eden took no offense. She would do anything for her best friend, and she damn well knew that Jodi would do the same.

“I thought you were Marjorie,” Eden admitted in a whisper.

Jodi frowned, an expression that marred her delicate features.

“I thought that was her who nearly took me out at the door. You want me to scratch her eyes out next time I see her?” Jodi raised her hand, flexing her fingers to bare her black-based gold-painted nails, then hissed like an angry cat.

Eden did not even know that she left. Her attention drifted over to the vacant computer. There was no wrinkled face between the gaps, no judgmental eyes staring at her. A weight had lifted from her shoulders.

Eden snorted. “I don't think I can pull her off you.”

Again, she whispered an action that made Jodi turn up her eyes.

“Stop doing that. You make me feel like I'm back in Saint Michael's again.��

Listening to her, you might not think she was once raised to be Catholic, but her parents were strict believers. Jodi attended St. Michael's Parish in Beckton, a city forty-three miles northwest of Lorraine's Rest, before she moved, attending public school in the fifth grade. That's where Eden first met her.

“We're in a library,” Jodi was reminded.

She raised her arm. “There's no one here. School is out, and I know the hicks around here don't read.”

Eden motioned behind the redhead to Billy Loomis, the man she knew as Luke. Jodi peered over her shoulder, then whistled.

“He's kind of hot from this angle.”

Jodi was anything but quiet.

Eden swore her face was on fire, and to make matters worse, Billy spared them a glance, having heard. She watched Jodi wiggle her fingers at him, and then slowly, Billy did the same. It was embarrassing.

“Stop flirting. If Sunshine finds out, he'll be heartbroken.”

Sunshine was Jodi's current boyfriend. Russell Williams. He was a ray of sunshine contained in an optimistic man with a strong jawline and chiseled abs. She had a hard time keeping a relationship, self-sabotaging them at every turn in fear of inevitably messing them up. Russell was good for her. Eden liked him.

Jodi turned, sticking out her tongue.

“I'll behave.”

“You don't know the meaning,” retorted Eden. She quickly changed the subject. “What brings you here anyway?”

As though a light bulb had gone off in her head, Jodi retrieved her cell phone from the back pocket of her skinny jeans. A soft glow brightened her eyes as her fingers swiftly slid across the screen. Eden stared in boredom at the pink ghosted case on the back until a series of Facebook messages were shoved into her face. The name, she scowled at.

Below she read in bad text:

Did Eden block me? I tried to message her, but her account is gone.

The message was from Lance McKeehan, her ex, set to Pale-Faced Bitch Ass in Jodi's contact list. The picture of him had been changed to a selfie of him smiling at the camera in a holier-than-thou kind of way with his cherry red Dodge Charger in the background. He was clean-shaven, giving the appearance that he was much younger than thirty-nine. Eden hated how good he looked in a retro-printed button-down.

Yesterday she blocked him for good, something that she should have done two months ago when they broke up.

It's odd that he's asking around about me. I was always the one to message him.

Eden wondered what he wanted. She read down further, cracking a grin at what Jodi replied.

I can see her profile just fine. That must mean you got the axe.

If it's not asking much. I know you're busy screwing up another of your relationships. Tell Eden to contact me.

The messages ended there. Eden tightened her jaw. Who was he to insult her friend and then make demands? She felt like she was back in high school again, dealing with more childish drama.

“I won't tell you what to do, but I'd advise blocking him. He's gonna keep messaging you otherwise, and you don't deserve the stress.”

Jodi grinned. “I live to put assholes like him in their place.”

As much as Eden wished that Jodi would take her advice, she could not deny her the pleasure.

“Just be careful,” retorted Eden with a look of worry in her eyes.

“Aww, I love you too,” Jodi cooed. She placed a comforting hand on Eden's shoulder. “But I'm a big girl, boo. You don't have to worry about me.”

Eden surely hoped so.

From the corner of her eye, she caught movement. Billy stood and pushed the office chair in. She assumed that he would just leave, but as he walked towards them, hands hidden in the pockets of his Wenven jacket, her stomach tightened. Eden forced a smile as he approached.

“Did you get done what you needed to?”

Billy hummed. “Thanks. I hope it won't get you in trouble.”

Eden hoped too. It shouldn't, so long as Victoria didn't find out. The curious look that Jodi gave her as though she were missing something significant made her nearly snort. She knew there would be questions afterward.

“It was one time. Nothing to worry about.”

Billy gave her a coy smile. “Have a good one.” He turned his brown eyes to Jodi, lifted his hand from his pocket, and playfully wiggled his fingers in a wave at her. Then he left.

As soon as the door closed behind him, the questions started.

“Am I missing something?” Jodi asked.

Eden grinned and turned up her eyes. “If you're so desperate to know, then you can help me put away the rest of the books in the cart while we chat.”

“Fair enough.” Jodi retorted.

She was going to be upset when Eden finished. There was nothing to share. Luke was a stranger, nothing more. She honestly doubted that she would ever see him again.

She was wrong.

#oc #scream fandom #billy loomis x oc #scream au #billy loomis #scream fanfiction #ghostface x oc #alternate universe

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fallen-in-love-suggestion · 11 days ago

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ugh there's this guy I like and. grr he's so cute and talented and smart and funny... he just makes me feel good when I'm around him, yknow? hes that type of person, he just lights up the room with his smile i-

We're like, kinda friends? but he's also fairly popular in theater in our school so he knows a lot of people (and we're only freshmen!) sometimes i wonder if he actually sees us as friends? like, he knows so many people so am i just another person he's sort of aquainted with? idkkk

oh we have theater class together as well, and ive helped him memorize his lines for our class play! I dont think he has any idea how much i value that time with him. I mean, out of all our friends in that class he chose me! me!!!

ughh the most annoying thing is that he's straight... i love him so much but he'll never know and we can never work out.... I cant do this man there are so few people in our school that are actually cool like him.. my friends sometimes joke how I chose the only straight person in all of theater to crush on and its genuinely true.

another annoying thing is Im greyromantic, which means i dont feel romantic attraction like this that often. what if hes the only person ill ever like like this? what if ive wasted my chance at a relationship on a guy who cant even like me back?

ugh sorry this is kinda venty but i have a lot of feelings ive been crushing on this guy since like october (i cant believe its been 6 months already)

Also, i saw a while ago there were song recs, i would like to add one for specifically theater crushes, "Never Acting at All" by Melina KB and "Best Friend" by Rex Orange County

You mentioned you were in freshman year, I know that year for me at least came with a lot of self-discovery and exploration. I don't want to assume anything about anyone, but you never know what someone might surprise you with. People change all the time. I know I certainly did in my freshman year.

I do think you should try hanging out with him more! Use theater as a way to hang out with him more and go from there! See what else y'all have in common! Do you like the same bands? Same foods? Does he have any pets? Things like that to get to know him on a deeper level. Maybe after a while you could drop hints you like him and tell him how you feel.

You could also go the direct approach and just tell him how you feel. That is also an option. I'm not a big fan of it, personally, but I know for some it works.

Either way, I don't think your wasting any time. You're in high school. You have your whole life ahead of you to find the one. I'm not gray-romantic, but I don't believe this would be your only chance at love if he doesn't reciprocate your feelings. But, you do have to tell him you like him to fully know.

I really hope this helps. I believe in you!

Also, I love those songs!! Thank you for sharing!!

#ask #advice #anonymous #love suggestion #falling in love #crush suggestion #suggestion blog #songs

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celestialmazer · 4 months ago

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Harvey Guillén Brings His “Big and Short” Bombshell Style to the Red Carpet

The ‘What We Do in the Shadows’ actor may only have just recently courted attention for a hot run of looks (the Met Gala, the Oscars), but he’s always been a clothes horse: “I’m like Ariana Grande: I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it.”

BY MIKEY O'CONNELL JUNE 17, 2023 10:00AM

Source: https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/lifestyle/style/harvey-guillen-red-carpet-style-1235514713/

Harvey Guillén was photographed June 2 at PMC Studios in Los Angeles. He’s wearing a shirt by Daniel Velasco, who also designed the actor’s tux-inspired 2002 Emmys outfit featuring a sheer, blue pussy-bow shirt. PHOTOGRAPHED BY YASARA GUNAWARDENA

Harvey Guillén always loved to get dressed up. He cannot say the same of shopping. “Going to the mall was so hard,” says the What We Do in the Shadows star. “Somebody made a meme of what it is to be a person of size going shopping with your friends. Everyone else is like, ‘I got this cute outfit, I got this cute top, I got these cute jeans.’ Meanwhile I’m like, ‘I got this cute bracelet.’ “

Some brands and retailers have gotten better at catering to plus-size customers, but the evolution remains slow-going. Fortunately for the 33-year-old queer actor, a real sartorial standout with a string of buzzy 2023 red carpet looks, he’s now courting the attention of major labels, though not all of them are able to deliver. “They love him and want to work with him, but they are working with limited sample sizes and limited resources,” says stylist Michael Fusco. “It’s not a challenge for people to want to work with us, it’s the execution part.”

Christian Siriano is one who’s handled the execution. In March, Guillén became the first man to don a plus-size look from the designer at the Academy Awards. The pair collaborated again on a pink tweed suit for the Met Gala, a sly “fuck you” to event inspiration (and well-documented sizeist) Karl Lagerfeld. “Christian just knows how to make Harvey look great and elongate his lines,” adds Fusco. “It’s just magic.”

Even without Siriano on speed dial, Guillén is prepared for his increasingly public life thanks to a not-insignificant collection of clothing — his L.A. home boasts two full walk-in closets and four racks for overflow. A few of those looks will no doubt be sported on the Orange County native’s near-endless promotional circuit for Shadows (season five premieres July 13 on FX), DC feature Blue Beetle (in theaters Aug. 18) and a deep slate that includes recently announced New Line thriller Companion, among many other projects on deck.

You’ve had a lot of major red carpet moments this year. Is there a look you’d consider a favorite?

This year has just been back-to-back-to-back. The Oscars started that. We made so many best-dressed lists. Christian had designed for Billy Porter before, but never has he designed for a plus-size guy — so it was nice to collaborate with him on something that was new and had never been done before. The Met Gala was great. They were obviously honoring Karl Lagerfeld, but you also have to represent yourself. So I wore pink. Karl was known for not liking pink. I like loads of things that he didn’t approve of.

PHOTOGRAPHED BY YASARA GUNAWARDENA

How would you describe your first experience at the Met Gala?

I got to walk the carpet before I hosted the night for E! I’d never really put on that hat before. Maybe next time I’ll just go and do the carpet and enjoy the event. It was really cool to watch everyone come in, but it was also very exhausting to be out there in an outfit, all night, talking to people.

Working in even the most basic tuxedo can be exhausting.

Yeah! You’re just wearing Louis Vuittons, and these shoes are meant for being walked on and taking pictures — not running up the hill for hours and hours on end. I can’t even imagine it wearing heels. There’s no way I could do that for eight hours.

I’ve seen you at a couple of events wearing semi-sheer tops. Even with fashion’s easing of older gender norms, that takes confidence. Were you always so adventurous, or is this a recent development?

I’ve always been one to take risks; I just never had the opportunity to do so. It’s already hard to be confident in your own body, especially in this industry. So, if you’re going to do something, then do it full out. And then there are the people who comment, like, “Oh my God, you’re so confident in that.” Yeah, I want to feel my best in what I’m wearing. Why wouldn’t I wear a sheer top? People are just like, “Wow …” They usually assume that people who are a plus size want to cover up, not show off any skin or curves. I do the opposite. I want to show my curves. I want to show a little peekaboo. The sheer is fun.

Harvey Guillén was photographed June 2 at PMC Studios in Los Angeles. PHOTOGRAPHED BY YASARA GUNAWARDENA

What is your everyday style?

For the day, a T-shirt and jeans will be just fine. Obviously, you’re not going to wear a Christian Siriano gown to pick up bread. But I like to play with old stuff. My place in L.A. has four racks of clothes on top of two walk-in closets that are already full. I’ve collected so many pieces over the years that I’ve probably only ever worn once. I can’t bring myself to get rid of them. I have pieces I haven’t worn that are ready to go for an event. I’m like Ariana Grande: I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it. Because it’s hard to find stuff in your size! So when I find something I like, I don’t double-guess it. In the past, I’d be like, “I’ll get it later.” Then it’s gone!

The clothes that we put off buying haunt us for years.

To this day, there are these shoes that I think about. I was in Germany and thought, “It’s fine, I’m sure I can get them online.” Nope! Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I’ll wake up in a cold sweat of regret. “No! The shoes!”

PHOTOGRAPHED BY YASARA GUNAWARDENA

When you’re at the mall, what do you gravitate toward?

When I do a movie or something, the costume designers will call, and it’s always the same conversation: “Where do you shop for your clothes?” Which is so interesting to me because I was like, “Where do you shop for everyone’s clothes?” The difference is they know that question is loaded because a lot of designers or stores only go to a certain size. It isn’t as easy, and then that becomes their struggle. You’d be surprised how many times I’m like, “See, the struggle is real.” I had one costume designer who gave up. They were like, “Can you just bring some of your own clothes?”

Dior’s pre-fall 2023 show in Cairo. COURTESY OF DIOR

If you have the clothes, that means they’re out there.

You can find it! You can find clothes in a size that fits everyone; you have to search. For me, the easy go-to is ASOS. They’re reliable when it comes to a big selection of sizes — and they deliver overnight — so I do ASOS a lot. I remember spending whole afternoons at the mall just looking for clothes. You find something that you like, but then they don’t make sizes past a large or an XL. They don’t think that people who are our size are fashionable. They think you’ll be content shopping at Big & Tall — which is fine if you want to shop there, but it’s very limited. Big & Tall is for someone who’s big and tall. … “tall” being the key word. I’m big and short. There should be a shop called Big & Short. (Laughs.) The average body is not a size zero, so it’s surprising to me how the fashion industry keeps pushing that idea. The average person wants to look fashionable. But that’s aspirational living, right?

“Since he’s become a badass, we tuck his pants into his boots and roll up his sleeves,” Guillén says of his Shadows character. RUSS MARTIN/FX

And, like any other industry, they want to make money. So it doesn’t make sense to ignore such a significant portion of the market.

It’s always surprising when you see, like, “Well, the sales are low this year.” Why? Sales will go through the roof if you just added two more sizes to your collection — or at least another three sizes on top of that. There’s money out there that people want to spend. It’s like in Pretty Woman. I want to walk in like Julia Roberts with a bunch of bags and say, “I came in yesterday, and you didn’t have my size. Big mistake. Huge.” I have money to spend, but you don’t get my money because you didn’t think I was worth making a garment for my body.

“I like playing with the idea of what’s gender-normal or gender-neutral,” says Guillén of his fondness for sheer items, like this Christian Siriano look for Vanity Fair’s 2023 Oscar party. JOHN SHEARER/WIREIMAGE

How would you describe your discussions with the Shadows costume designer about the aesthetic of your character, Guillermo?

Laura Montgomery, who won the Emmy for costume design, is amazing. She and I get together at the beginning of the season. Because we know what the year’s going to be like for the character, we sprinkle in something new. In season one, he’s more buttoned up. He’s almost suffocating in his own clothing. In season two, he relaxes a little bit. He unbuttons the top button. If you look at pictures of every season, he slowly starts to become the version of who he’s supposed to be — to the point where, in season four, he’s wearing Versace. It’s in a non-fashionable way, of course. That’s just what he thinks people with money should look like.

Who are your own style icons?

There are classic icons that never go away — both male and female. Audrey Hepburn is iconic. But I like the new ideas of fashion. When you look at Maluma and Bad Bunny, they’re oozing confidence, right? Maluma, even offstage, looks amazing in the shirt because he’s wearing it in a way that he’s living his best life. And I strive to do that myself. I could wear a potato sack, but I’d wear it with such confidence that people are like, “I want a potato sack.”

Interview edited for length and clarity.

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