#don't have it memorized as i would if it even seemed to belong to One Character much less winston specifically

[unproduciblesmackdown]

cool '90s kid at the desktop computer nodding & thumbs upping the camera anytime i realize "that internet search of mine was similar enough to one on billions' handcrafted list of Kill Yourself If These Are Your Searches, Imagine"

[stylesispunk]

"Is God watching our eyes burn?"

Not outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Two best friends are falling in love. What could have gone wrong?

w.c: 6k

warnings: angst as always. No proofreading.

a/n: I wrote this during the afternoon, so please don't hurt my feelings. I hope you like it, though. It has the potential for a second part. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated.💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Falling in love with your best friend. What a typical beginning or an ending of a story.

From your eyes you could see people describing their partner as their soulmates, their other half, and their best friends.

What are the odds of you falling in love with yours? How? when he had never seen you with those loving eyes you witnessed in others.

Joel loved you. That wasn’t in doubt but he had loved you as a brother loved a sister, as a friend loved his friend.

And that's why you were simply that. Best friends.

You watched him as he spoke, hands moving animatedly as he shared some story or other, and you smiled and laughed at all the right moments. Still, there was a part of you that was miles away, caught in a daydream where he was looking at you, just once, the way people looked at their person.

It wasn’t something you’d wanted to feel. For years, Joel had been your rock. You knew each other in ways no one else did, inside jokes, old scars, even that soft corner of his heart that few others got to see. He’d been the one person you could count on, even when things got messy, and you never wanted to risk that. But somewhere along the way, the little moments started to change. His hand on your shoulder, his smile in the morning, his laugh when he caught you dancing alone in the kitchen, all those things that had once been innocent had started to mean something else.

You used to feel safe around him. Now, every word, every glance, every touch was charged with a question he couldn’t hear, and it scared you. You kept asking yourself, When did it happen? How did it happen? It was like a puzzle you couldn’t solve. One minute, you were friends; the next, you were wondering what his hand would feel like if it held yours just a little longer.

He had found his way inside you. You didn’t mean it sexually, but spiritually. It felt like him and his bared hand ripped the skin off your chest and took your most precious belonging. Your heart.

From that day on, it felt like your breathed for him. That you belonged to him. To his breath, to his thoughts, to his gaze. Every time he wasn’t looking at you, you felt your heart tearing apart.

It was maddening, really, how much you had come to need him, how each of his smiles, each of his laughs, felt like something you couldn’t live without. You’d catch yourself watching him, memorizing the lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders relaxed when he was with you, how his voice softened when he talked about something he loved. You’d watch him in the little moments when he didn’t know you were looking, like when he was lost in thought, eyes drifting away as he tapped his fingers against his knee.

But you were losing your hold on yourself, inch by inch. You knew it every time he walked into the room and your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat as if he was the most important person in the world. And he was. At some point, he’d become everything. And you could do nothing about it.

It felt like you breathed for him.

The more you tried to keep those feelings quiet, the louder they seemed to get. There were nights when you’d lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the ache of his absence like a weight pressing down on you. It was terrifying to know that you belonged to him in a way that he’d never understand. You belonged to his laugh, his gaze, the casual touches he’d give that left their mark on you long after he’d pulled away.

And you had came to understand why your relationships never worked out.

And why all his flings and lover weren’t very fond of you.

It all made sense now, why every other relationship you’d tried felt hollow, why every time someone else held you, it felt like a betrayal. You had always been searching for something that could fill the space Joel left behind, something that could compare to the feeling of being with him. And no one ever measured up. No one could make you feel the way he did with just a look, just a laugh, or a soft touch on your shoulder.

His girlfriends must have sensed it, too—the subtle pull that kept you by his side, the way he’d cancel plans with them if you needed him, the way he always looked for you in a crowded room. They saw what you tried to keep hidden. They could see that in some quiet, unspoken way, you were always there, between them and him.

But you also knew he was far away from healing from his last heartbreak. And you knew that when he kissed you like he mean it, he was looking out for comfort from you, the person who always was there.

And you gave in.

You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t let it happen. You told yourself a hundred times that you could be his friend, his rock, without crossing that line. But when he showed up at your door late one night, shoulders slumped and eyes tired, the air felt different. He looked worn down, like he’d been carrying too much for too long, and all he wanted was relief, a place where he didn’t have to pretend to be okay.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, his voice low and raw, and you knew what that meant, knew it had to do with the last woman who’d walked out of his life, leaving him with wounds that hadn’t yet healed. You’d listened to him, night after night, as he talked through the pain, the trust he’d put in her, the hopes he’d had that had all fallen apart. And though every word cut deep, you were there, steady as ever, offering him comfort, reassurance.

So when he stepped closer, when his hand reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face, you felt your own resolve crumbling. You could tell yourself all you wanted that this wasn’t real, that it wasn’t the way you’d dreamed it. But the truth was, his touch set you on fire, made you feel like you’d been waiting for this moment forever.

He leaned in, his face inches from yours, and you could see the flicker of need in his eyes, the desperation. You knew he was reaching for you to fill a void, to ease a hurt that still felt fresh, and maybe it was wrong, maybe you were both vulnerable, but in that moment, you didn’t care. You wanted to be the person he needed, even if it was only for a night, even if he was looking at you through the lens of heartbreak and loss. Because the way his gaze softened, the way he touched you, it was everything you’d been longing for, even if it came from his own need to feel whole again.

So you let him. You let him take that step, let his lips press against yours, let him hold you close as if you were the only one who could fix the pieces left broken. It wasn’t the love you’d dreamed of, but it was real in its own way, a moment where you belonged to each other, even if he would never see it that way.

And as he kissed you, as he held you close, you knew you’d regret it in the morning, that you’d feel the ache of him slipping away once the moment passed.

But that never happened.

Instead, everything between you and Joel shifted that night, as if a door that had always been locked was suddenly wide open. You had thought it would be one moment, a single night where you could pretend that his touch was a promise, that his kisses meant as much to him as they did to you. But he didn’t let you go, didn’t pull back into that safe distance of friendship once the night had passed. Instead, he lingered, stayed close, as if he was finding something in you he hadn’t expected, as if he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

The next morning, you’d braced yourself, heart pounding as you turned to face him, expecting to see the hesitation, the discomfort. But instead, you found him watching you, his expression soft, almost vulnerable, as he reached for you again. “Hey,” he murmured, and his hand found yours, fingers intertwining with a certainty that left you breathless.

And from there, it didn’t stop.

Joel didn’t hesitate, didn’t second-guess the leap you both had taken. In the weeks that followed, it was as if he had been waiting just as long, holding back feelings he hadn’t even realized he had. He wasn’t careful, wasn’t cautious; he didn’t linger in that unsure space between friendship and something more. Instead, he was all in, crossing every line with a steadiness that left you dizzy.

It only took him two months to raise the bar, to show you what it was like to be truly wanted. He’d come over with flowers in hand like it was nothing, his face breaking into a grin when you’d open the door, as if the sight of you made everything right. He’d brush hair from your face, a little slower than he used to, letting his fingers linger on your cheek, his gaze holding a warmth you’d once only dreamed of. There was no hesitation in his touches now, no holding back. He’d pull you close on a crowded street, run his fingers down your arm as you laughed over breakfast, hold you just because you were there. With Joel, you never had to wonder if you were enough.

And you found yourself slipping into those roles, playing the parts of the lovers you’d once watched from a distance. You both did, almost instinctively. At first, it felt strange, like you were walking on a stage, wearing someone else’s life. You’d spend your days together, trying to believe it was real, that the Joel who laughed into your shoulder and kissed you in the middle of a conversation was yours.

The first time he told you he’d fallen for you, it was casual, thrown in like he’d said it a thousand times before, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even in the warmth of his love, in the softness of his gaze when he looked at you, there was always a flicker of something else, something he couldn’t quite hide. A shadow that lingered behind his smile, a sadness that clung to him no matter how hard he tried to bury it. You could see it in the quiet moments, when the laughter faded, and he’d look at you as if he was searching for something, as if he was afraid of losing you even while you were right there in his arms.

It hurt to see that sadness in him, knowing you couldn’t reach it, couldn’t pull him fully into the light. You’d watch him sometimes, catch him lost in thought, his eyes distant, and wonder if he was thinking of his past—of the scars he’d carried from those who had left him, the pieces of himself he’d lost along the way. There were nights when he’d hold you close, his grip a little tighter, as if you were an anchor keeping him grounded, and you’d feel the weight of that sadness, as if he was trying to drown it in the warmth between you.

One evening, after a quiet dinner, you both sat on the couch, his arm around you, fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. The glow of the lamplight softened everything around you, casting shadows that danced across his face. You could see the sadness there, deeper tonight, almost heavy enough to spill over. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Joel,” you whispered, reaching up to brush your fingers along his jaw, hoping to ease the ache you saw in him. “What is it?”

He looked down, his thumb moving over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles, as if he was gathering his thoughts. “Sometimes, I think about… how lucky I am to have you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “And it scares me. Because I’ve lost things before. People. And… I don’t ever want that to happen with us. I don’t want to wake up and find out this was just… I don’t know, a dream.”

You felt your heart twist, aching for him, for the years he’d spent holding onto pain he couldn’t let go of. And yet, you also understood. You’d been best friends for so long, and even in love, you could sense that he was still trying to protect himself, to guard that broken part of him that he feared would shatter if he let himself believe too much, hope too much.

So you held his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with a steady resolve. “I’m not going anywhere, Joel. I’m here, and I want to be here. Whatever shadows you carry, I’ll be here to help you face them. I love you, all of you. Even the parts that hurt.”

His eyes softened, and he looked at you like you were something he didn’t deserve, something precious he’d stumbled upon and was still afraid to hold too tightly. But then, he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes as he let himself breathe, let himself feel the weight of your words.

But you knew, just as he did, that there was a part of him still haunted by her—by the girl he’d lost, the one who followed him like a ghost he could never quite shake. She lingered in the quiet corners of his mind, a memory that wouldn’t fade, an echo that haunted him even when he was wrapped in your arms. You could feel it in the way he held you sometimes, as if he was clinging to the present but couldn’t fully leave the past behind.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you. You knew he did; you could feel it in every touch, in every whispered word. But there was a part of him still lost in a place you couldn’t reach, tethered to memories you could never truly understand. He didn’t talk about her, didn’t bring her up, and you never pushed him to. Still, you sensed the weight of her shadow in his silences, in the moments when his gaze grew distant, as though he was looking right through you to someone who wasn’t there.

It was a strange thing, learning to share him with a memory, a ghost that still lived somewhere deep inside him. You’d told yourself you could handle it, that you could be patient, that one day he’d let go of her completely. But some nights, when you caught him staring into the distance with that quiet sadness in his eyes, you felt a pang of jealousy—not for her, but for the part of him she still held captive.

In those moments, you couldn’t help but wonder if she would always be there, lingering just beyond the reach of what you and Joel were building together. If he’d ever truly be able to let go, to give himself over to this love without the pull of that past, that echo.

"Sometimes, it feels like I’m not really here," you said, voice tight with a vulnerability you’d tried to keep hidden. "Like you’re looking past me—to her."

Joel’s eyes flicked up, surprised by the intensity in your voice. He shifted, as if he wasn’t quite sure where this was coming from, but the sadness you’d seen in him so many times was still there, familiar and frustrating. "That’s not fair," he murmured, his tone soft but guarded. "You know it’s not like that."

“Then what is it like, Joel?” you demanded, feeling a pang of guilt even as the words escaped. “Because every time you get that look in your eyes, every time you drift off… it’s her, isn’t it?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, weary. “She was a part of my life. I can’t just erase that.”

"And what about us?” you shot back, the words sharper than you intended. “Do I always have to share you with her? Am I ever going to be enough, or am I just supposed to be okay with half of you?”

Joel’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, his face shadowed. “You don’t understand,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then help me understand, Joel,” you pleaded, your voice cracking. “I’ve tried. I’ve been patient, I’ve given you space, but it’s like… it’s like there’s this wall between us that I can’t get past. And I don’t know if I ever will.”

He looked back at you then, his gaze heavy with something unreadable. “It’s not about you,” he said, frustration seeping into his tone. “This is my burden, my past. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

“But it does mean you’re not all here,” you replied, the words trembling with pain. “And I can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever be.”

There was a long, aching silence as your words hung in the air. Joel looked away, his face set in a hard line, and for a moment, you felt a wave of regret, of fear that maybe you’d pushed too far. But you needed him to hear it. Needed him to understand how much it hurt to be constantly measured against a memory, to feel like you were always fighting to pull him into the present.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and raw. “I’m trying. But it’s not that simple. You think I don’t want to let go? You think I don’t want to be… whole?”

The vulnerability in his voice was almost too much, cutting through your anger and leaving you feeling exposed. You could see how much he wanted to give you what you deserved, how he hated the way he was bound to a past he couldn’t change. And yet, part of you still felt that ache, that longing for a love that wasn’t haunted by shadows.

“I don’t want to be your second choice, Joel,” you whispered, feeling the tears rise, though you tried to blink them away. “I don’t want to keep feeling like I’m… not enough.”

Joel reached for you then, his hand finding yours, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re not my second choice,” he said softly, his voice barely holding together. “You’re the one here, the one I want. I just… sometimes, I don’t know how to shake the past. I don’t know how to make it stop hurting.”

You looked down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch grounding you even as you felt the weight of his words settle heavy on your heart. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words reassure you, but the doubt lingered, a painful reminder of the distance that still stretched between you.

“I know you’re trying, Joel,” you said quietly. “But I know better than to wait for you back here.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you prepared to say the words you’d kept buried for too long. “I mean… I can’t keep standing on the sidelines, hoping one day you’ll be fully here. I can’t be the one waiting for you to decide if you’re ready to move on.” You paused, watching as his face registered the meaning of your words, a flicker of fear crossing his eyes. “I love you, Joel. But I can’t keep giving all of myself if you’re not ready to do the same.”

He looked at you, the silence stretching between you, and you could see the conflict etched into his expression. “You think I don’t want that?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You think I don’t wish every day that I could leave all that behind?”

“I know you do,” you replied, feeling your own voice tremble. “But wishing isn’t enough. I need to know that you’re here, that this—us—isn’t just you trying to fill some empty space.”

He took a step closer, his hand tightening around yours. “You’re not just filling a space, not to me,” he insisted, his voice filled with a rawness you rarely saw. “But… I don’t know how to give you more when there’s still a part of me that’s… trapped there.”

You nodded, a painful understanding settling over you. “I know. And maybe that’s something you have to work through—without me.”

His grip loosened, and you felt the weight of your words sink in, the realization in his eyes piercing. He opened his mouth to argue, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he looked at you, the anguish plain on his face, and you knew he understood. This wasn’t what you wanted, wasn’t the ending you’d dreamed of, but you also knew it was the only way forward.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said finally, his voice barely a whisper.

“And I don’t want to lose you either, Joel,” you replied, your own voice choked with emotion. “But I can’t lose myself waiting for you to be ready.” You paused, your own breath shaking. “I’ve breaking my own heart for years already. I can’t do it anymore” you confessed, the truth spilling out in a rush, leaving you feeling exposed. The words hung in the air, heavy with all the unspoken feelings that had built up between you over time. You had spent so long convincing yourself that you could wait, that love would be enough to bridge the gap, but now it felt like the dam had finally burst.

He flinched, his expression twisting with a mix of regret and sorrow. “I didn’t realize…” His voice trailed off, the weight of your admission hitting him like a freight train.

“I never wanted to hurt you. You’ve always been my best friend, and now you’re so much more. I just thought… I thought we had time.”

You shook your head, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Time is what I don’t have, Joel. I’ve given so much of myself to this, to us, and I thought it would be enough. But now, standing here, I see it’s not just about love.”

He swallowed hard, the realization dawning on him. “You’re right. I need to figure this out. I can’t just keep pretending it’s all okay when it’s not.”

The truth of his words cut through you, leaving a raw ache in your chest. You wanted him to be free, to find that peace, but the thought of stepping away felt like tearing off a bandage that had just begun to heal. “I care about you, Joel. I always will. But I need to put myself first for once.”

“Please don’t go,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to lose you. You’re the best part of my life.”

You could see the pain in his eyes, and it nearly broke you. “I need space,” you whispered, barely able to hold it together. “I was brave enough when I let you in. I need to find out who I am without you being my everything. Maybe one day, we can find our way back to each other. But right now… I just can’t.”

The weight of your words hung in the air between you, heavy with the uncharted territory of separation. You could see the flicker of panic in Joel’s eyes, the realization that he might lose the one person who understood him the most. But you knew that this was necessary—for both of you.

He opened his mouth, searching for the right words, but they wouldn’t come. Instead, he simply stood there, helpless, as you took a step back. “I don’t want to lose you,” he repeated, the raw vulnerability in his voice piercing through you. “You’re the only one who knows me like this, who gets me. What if… what if we can find a way to work through this together?”

Your heart twisted at the thought, but you had to be strong. “I don’t think I can be what you need right now,” you said softly. “And you deserve to heal without me holding you back. I’ve become a crutch, Joel, and I don’t want to be that. You need to find yourself again, without the ghost of her and without me. We both do.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration mixing with despair. “I don’t want to face the world without you by my side. You make everything better, you know? I can’t imagine not having you here.”

You felt a tear escape, rolling down your cheek as you realized how much you would miss him too. “I know. But..It’s really a shame we caught each at a bad time,” you said, the words tasting bittersweet on your tongue. The reality of it all hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. You had both wanted more, but life had a way of complicating things, of intertwining your paths at the wrong moments.

Joel looked at you, his expression shifting as if he were grappling with the same sentiment.

I wish things could be different. I wish I could turn back time and be in a place where I could give you everything you deserve.”

The ache in your chest deepened. “Me too,” you admitted softly. “But wishing won’t change anything. I can’t keep hoping that one day you’ll wake up and be ready to love me the way I need to be loved. You need to find your way first, Joel.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of your words pressed down on him. “I know. I just… I don’t want to lose you in the process. I don’t want this to be the end for us.”

“It doesn’t have to be the end,” you said, feeling a flicker of hope amid the sorrow. “Maybe when you heal, I’ll be there still waiting, but now I have to free myself from you.”

“It doesn’t have to be the end,” you said, feeling a flicker of hope amid the sorrow. “Maybe when you heal, I’ll still be there waiting, but right now, I have to free myself from you.”

His brow furrowed as he took in your words, and you could see the conflict within him, a part of him wanting to fight against the inevitable. “Free yourself from me? That sounds so final,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “What if I need you?”

“It’s not about what you need right now, Joel,” you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “It’s about what I need too. I’ve spent too long being your comfort, your escape from pain, and I’ve lost sight of who I am in the process. I need to find myself again, separate from you and your memories.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you raised a hand, cutting him off gently. “I care about you deeply. I always will. But I can’t be your crutch. I can’t let my happiness depend on your healing. It’s unfair to both of us.”

The silence that followed was heavy, a shared understanding lingering in the air. You could see the flicker of realization in his eyes, the understanding that your decision was not just about him—it was about you reclaiming your own life, your own identity.

“I just wish…” he began, his voice trailing off.

“I know,” you interrupted softly. “I wish too. But wishing isn’t enough. We both deserve to find our own paths, even if it’s hard. Even if it hurts.”

He nodded slowly, the understanding settling in, and you felt a pang of sorrow for the love that had been, but also a glimmer of hope for what could be.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of what you were about to say. “Before I go, I want you to know something important,” you said, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “I don’t think of you as a bad guy for reaching out to me when you needed comfort. You were kind to me, and you opened your heart in ways I never expected. It’s okay to seek solace in the people who care about you. Just like you were there for me, I was always there for you, and I don’t regret that.”

His eyes met yours, vulnerability shining through the sadness. “I didn’t mean to put you in this position,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said softly, a tear escaping as you fought to keep your emotions in check. “And I don’t blame you. We were both trying to find our way, and sometimes, it’s messy. I’m not angry with you for needing me, or for those moments we shared. I just need to prioritize myself now.”

He nodded, the understanding settling deeper between you. “I just wish things could be different. I wish I could give you everything you deserve.”

“I wish that too,” you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of what could have been. “But I need to find out who I am beyond us. We both deserve that.”

You took a step back, feeling the distance grow between you, both physical and emotional. “I’m going to take some time for myself. I need to breathe, to figure out what I want. I hope you do the same.”

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of what you were about to say. “Before I go, I want you to know something important,” you said, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “I don’t think of you as a bad guy for reaching out to me when you needed comfort. You were kind to me, and you opened your heart in ways I never expected. It’s okay to seek solace in the people who care about you. Just like you were there for me, I was always there for you, and I don’t regret that.”

His eyes met yours, vulnerability shining through the sadness. “I didn’t mean to put you in this position,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said softly, a tear escaping as you fought to keep your emotions in check. “And I don’t blame you. We were both trying to find our way, and sometimes, it’s messy. I’m not angry with you for needing me, or for those moments we shared. I just need to prioritize myself now.”

He nodded, the understanding settling deeper between you. “I just wish things could be different. I wish I could give you everything you deserve.”

“I wish that too,” you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of what could have been. “But I need to find out who I am beyond us. We both deserve that.”

You took a step back, feeling the distance grow between you, both physical and emotional. “I’m going to take some time for myself. I need to breathe, to figure out what I want. I hope you do the same.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you raised a hand again, cutting him off gently. “Let’s not prolong this. It’s hard enough as it is. Just know that I care about you, and I always will. You’ve been an important part of my life.”

With one last lingering look, you turned to leave, each step feeling heavier than the last. The door behind you closed with a soft click, sealing away the warmth of what you once shared and leaving behind a bittersweet ache in your chest. You took a deep breath as you stepped into the world outside.

A world without Joel and you crossing paths again.

Five years later, you stood in front of the mirror, your heart racing as you adjusted the veil that framed your face. The reflection staring back at you was beautiful, but it felt like a stranger wearing a mask. The dress hugged your body in all the right places, the delicate lace and flowing fabric crafted with love, but it couldn’t hide the uncertainty churning inside you.

As you applied the final touches of makeup, you could hear the soft hum of voices filtering through the closed door. Friends and family gathered outside, their excited chatter mingling with the gentle music playing in the background. They were all waiting for you, eager to celebrate a love that was supposed to be yours. Yet, as the minutes ticked away, a feeling of pressure weighed heavily on your chest, a sense of urgency that made you question everything.

You thought about the man waiting for you at the altar, a kind and caring soul who had been there for you in ways you had never expected. He loved you deeply, and you admired him for it. But as you glanced at your reflection, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Was this truly love? Or were you just filling a void left by someone else?

And then there was Joel. The memories of him flooded your mind like a bittersweet wave. The moments you shared, the laughter and the pain, the way he had opened your heart and left you wanting more. You hadn’t seen him in years, and yet he lingered in your thoughts, a ghost of what could have been. The ache for him had faded, but it had never truly disappeared. You had always wondered if you could love someone else as deeply as you had loved him.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, ready to face the music outside. As you turned toward the door, your heart pounded louder, each beat echoing your uncertainty. Just then, a firm grip on your wrist stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need to talk to you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the world around you fading away as you stared into his eyes, those deep, expressive eyes that had once held your heart captive. Everything you had thought you’d left behind rushed back in an instant, and for a moment, you were both suspended in time—two souls that had once been so close, now standing on the precipice of an unknown future.

“Joel,” you breathed, the weight of his presence crashing over you. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you,” he replied, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to show how serious he was. “I know this is crazy, but I couldn’t let you walk down that aisle without telling you how I feel.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken words, memories swirling like ghosts in the space around you. You could feel the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders, and as you glanced back at the mirror, you caught a glimpse of the reflection you had tried to ignore. It was a moment of reckoning, one that could change everything.

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny: First official chapter

The busy hospital was on its last leg. Nurses and interns were scattered, running around like mice.

Sounds of trauma care patients and emergency care patients alarms were constantly ringing.

In the midst of it all, one calm collected doctor cared tenderly for each patient.

He, was Danny Fenton, who used to be known for having two crazy ghost enthusiasts for parents. He still loved his parents despite how hard it was growing up as half ghost.

Jazz had told them a long time ago and they had ignored it for the most part. Like that side of him didn't exist.

It had hurt at the time but Danny had managed to move past it. After successfully securing his position as ghost king (on accident) he put his newfound authority to good use making the ghosts swear a vow to behave.

A ghost vow is a big deal, which is why Danny swore a vow in return acknowledging them, if ever a ghost were in danger he would help them.

After the lack of ghost attacks Danny found he had next to nothing to do. His only hobby outside of playing video games had been ghost fighting. He hadn't realized how used to it he had gotten.

Danny hadn't even picked the college he wanted to go to yet.

Danny approached the Nasty Burger, his last refuge.

That's when he noticed a man who seemed a little out of it. The man stumbled making Danny wonder if he was drunk.

Danny turned to go inside when the man collapsed. Danny rushed over to the man and rolled him on his back. He checked for a pulse but couldn't find one.

Of course he wasn't exactly medically trained.

Danny dialed nine-one-one and started to perform CPR as best he could.

He explained to the operator clearly the situation and the ambulance came in no time.

Later that night Danny was processing the events in his head and instead of feeling scared or nervous he felt excited.

He was thrilled to have something to get his blood pumping again. Which is why he applied for med school. He studied hard, using all the time he had to memorize all the medical information that he could.

After graduation he interned at Amity Parks local hospital before moving up his position to resident.

Only a week after getting his new position he was forced to leave the hospital. It was closing because of a lack of funding.

"Please sir! What about the staff or the patients?"

The head of the medical board shook his head.

"Dr. Fenton, this hospital runs on little to nothing to begin with, we are lucky to have even made it this far. The patients will be transfered and the staff, relocated"

Danny furrowed his brows in concern.

"Don't worry Dr. Fenton, your quite literally the best we've seen walk these halls, your sure to get a good recommendation"

Danny clenched his fist.

"What are my options?" He asked.

The board looked at his sheet, flipping several until he found the right one on his clipboard.

"You said you wanted to work at a busy hospital right?"

Danny nodded yes.

"There aren't too many around here, the busiest hospital I can think of belongs to a crime ridden city a bit far  from here." He said.

"Gotham City"

Danny's breath hitched. He had heard about Gotham before. It was notorious for its villains.

Despite that, it was alluring.

"There! Send me to Gothams hospital!" He said suddenly and eagerly.

"Okay, if you say so. Do us all a favor and survive alright"

Danny laughed, "sure, I'll do my best. No promises though"

Just like that Danny packed up moved to Gotham.

He had little time to research Gotham before hand but he had heard several mutters in passing of a place called Crime Alley, a strange nickname for sure.

Danny was sure that this place would either be completely clean due to police intervention or incredibly overrun.

Danny signed a lease at the Shirley Apartments.

"Are you sure about this young man" the desk lady asked him.

He smiled kindly.

"Yes I am, I've heard the rumors and have weighed the risk. In the end it might be helpful to know just how my patients love to receive the injuries they do"

The lady sighed.

"That's right, you said your a doctor. Be careful out there, any talent in Gotham is either warped by a villain or destroyed"

Danny was a little startled by the warning, apparently there was even more to Gotham than he knew.

"I'm sorry I forgot to ask for your name"

"Didn't give one, in Gotham it's best to remain anonymous"

Danny blinked a little surprised.

"It's that dangerous, well I'll take your word for it then, thank you miss" he said as he took the key from her.

He had been able to store the old car his dad had given to him in a locked garage. He wasn't sure how well it would hold up but there was only so much he could do against humans.

Ghost powers had little, of any, effect on humans when it came to offense. Defensively they were pretty great to have.

He had only brought five boxes with him, no furniture. Back in Amity he had been busy studying and had brushed aside buying furniture.

Unfortunately that meant he had no bed.

Danny was glad to have found a beaten up wardrobe. It was missing it's doors and was leaning to the side, even so Danny was able to fix it and hang his clothes up in it.

He grabbed one of the boxes and smiled warmly when he saw a Fenton Emergency pack inside.

His mom must've stuffed it there when he was looking, lucky for him it had a sleeping bag.

An air mattress would've been nice too, but it's the thought that counts.

Danny safely stored his two favorite pictures. One of him with his family and one with his friends.

They were hidden just in case someone decided to break in, not that there would be much to find anyway but it never hurt to be careful.

Danny went to sleep soon after despite the sounds of the city.

Danny woke up feeling refreshed. He grabbed his bags and hopped in his car.

Danny hadn't realized how busy Gothams hospital actually was. Danny pulled into Gotham General and as soon as he was in his scrubs and coat he was dragged into the frey.

"We need a doctor over here!" Someone called just as Danny had finished with a patient.

Despite having to run around all day Danny wasn't tired, his ghost half supplied him energy after his human side ran dry.

All in all Danny first day on the job was hectic and he had worked for fourteen hours.

Once he was back in his apartment Danny set up a table that he had pre ordered online.

Then he got to work. According to his knowledge, most of his patients had suffered from some kind of attack or other.

Most of the heavy hitters were villains named Joker, Penguin and two face.

The riddler was taken care of, Poison Ivy had been rehabilitated and Harley Quinn had broken free from Jokers choke hold on her.

There was also the less obvious villains, like the business man lex Luther.

Lex Luther was shady at best, while no one could get hard evidence on him most people knew to be wary.

But just being informed didn't stop them from falling into his traps.

Lately Bruce had done official business with Lex Luther, which made him a suspicious person whom Danny had decided to keep tabs on, he was wary of the rich and for good reasons.

The cork board above Danny table has a litter of documents and pictured pined by red string. The players who were out of the game were crossed off.

Then there were the vigilantes. A few of them had been known to be rough, a necessary violence.

Still they seemed to have little awareness of what their little battles did to other people. Because many people came in for minor injuries due to being caught in the crossfire.

Which meant Danny had to find a way to keep everybody in line so patients would decrease in number. Danny let himself sleep for four hours before returning to the hospital.

"Oh my gosh, Doctor Fenton is still here" one nurse whispered. It had been a full day and half, Danny was running on his ghost half that seemed to keep replenishing itself due to the toxic air of Gotham. A positive side effect.

"How does he never get tired?"

"Maybe he's superhuman" one girl cracked. They noticed as he rushed by them to get to another patient.

"He's quite handsome too" one said wistfully, "but who wants a husband that works all the time"

Danny noticed the next patient seemed tense and he kept screaming for his daughter.

Danny whispered in the man's ear and put a hand on his forehead. He had used a ghost technique he learned from Nocturne and the man calmed down.

The other doctors were impressed as they worked to care for the man's injuries.

Finally the head of the unit noticed Danny and after reviewing his chart had forced him to go home.

"I don't feel fatigued at all sir, I promise I am not compromised. I can care for the patients"

The head wasn't having any of it.

"Above all your health is just as important as the patients we care for. For them to get healthy, you have to be healthy. Go home Dr.Fenton, you can come back after you get at least ten hours of sleep."

Danny wanted to argue but he knew the head was right.

"Yes sir" he said before changing into civilian clothes and leaving the hospital.

Now that he was out of a hospital setting things like hunger started to appear.

Maybe he had been to focused to notice how hungry he had been.

Danny blearily noticed a fast food place. His instincts told him the food would be greasy and way too unhealthy.

Mmm, comfort food.

The nostalgia fought with his doctoral instincts and won. All Danny wanted was to sit in a booth and eat some greasy food.

Danny ordered the double cheeseburger with bacon with a side of ten pieces chicken nuggets and large order of fries.

Waiting, even for five minutes, was starting to make Danny ravenous. As soon as he got his food he sat down and started gorging himself.

It was pretty good food for a little fast food place in the world's worst city.

Danny liked the tenderness and crispiness of the burger, the cheese was melted just right too.

Danny dipped his nuggets in sweet n' sour sauce while fighting the urge to kick his legs like a happy little kid.

As Danny left the restraint he saw an alert on his phone for a villain attack and rushed to the scene.

To his satisfaction the culprits were already being hauled away in police custody. They were just small fries, not of them appeared connected to a big player, so Danny was free to shut them out of his mind.

Which is exactly what he did. Danny drove back to his apartment and let out a sigh of relief.

That's when he noticed his door was slightly ajar.

His guard was up immediately. Danny stepped inside cautiously. He was relieved when everything appeared untouched but the scare had sent him a trip to get stronger locks.

On his way back to his car from the store he heard sound of a glass bottle breaking in a nearby alley. It was small alley, from what Danny could tell it was also a dead end alley.

Taking a risk Danny stepped in and chills went down his spine when he heard labored breathing.

Danny rushed over and froze at what he saw.

[h2llish]

⁀➷ ˖ tough love

notes ─── we love rollo <3 so this is my contribution to @cloudcountry 's event!

ROLLO FLAMME ─── if you don't care, you're not sure anyone will.

warnings ☆ fluff, some comfort, can be read platonic or romantic, gender neutral, reader is not yuu, playful teasing, lowercase intended, takes place after the event btw

the sky had become dashed with yellows and pinks as the sun began to set, and many of your peers began to retire from the rush of class. you would've liked to join them, but like clockwork, your routine left you climbing the belltower as the time on your watch struck six, with your books abandoned at the bottom for you to come back to. (if anyone stumbled across your belongings, they knew to leave it be, far too used to the routine of you and their president.)

you believe you had come to recognize every miniscule difference in the planks with how often you'd climb them, navigating the corners like your body had memorized every turn. and perhaps it has, since you've been climbing the belltower for more than a year every day to meet him at the top.

"there they are!"

you smiled and tilted your head respectfully as you reached the top of the tower, greeting the gargoyles that lived with the bell. they'd come to recognize your face, knowing you by name, and always waiting for you to reach the top at the same time, every day. ─ you'd only ever been late once, when you hadn't been aware of the quicker passage to the top. but since then, you'd always be there, even when you fell ill with a cold, or found it difficult to walk after a bad bout of food poisoning (specific, perhaps, but it did happen, and yet you still came at the exact time in which you promised you would. even if that did lead you to receiving a long scolding).

one of the gargoyles, who had always been more talkative, and seemed much older compared to the rest, waited to gesture over to the bell, where you could just barely see someone sitting on the other side. "we're especially quiet today."

"is that so." you sighed, gripping the bag on your shoulder with a lazy shrug, nodding at the gargoyle in your thanks.

rollo hardly batted an eye when you took up spot beside him, setting the bag down safely, and leaning back on your hands with an exaggerated sigh. "you know, having to climb all these stairs every day, gets exhausting." you said ─ a jab, you always made sure to poke at him. it was a test, something you've done since you were kids. you'd learned that his reactions to your jokes always told you how he was feeling, how open he was to talk to you.

"then stop climbing every day." he replied, rolling his eyes but not giving you the satisfaction of a glance your way.

you gasped, as dramatic as he'd known you to be, "but this is my time where i have you all to myself! i'm offended you'd say such a thing!"

"you're ridiculous."

"says the guy who is brooding all alone here in a tower." you snickered, and he finally looked at you, sending you a glare. but you hardly felt any anger behind it; at least not at you. ─ the anger you were used to seeing since the incident was always directed elsewhere, stewing, grieving.

"i'm not brooding." he scowled, and you raised your eyebrows, as if challenging that claim.

"sure you're not." you clicked your tongue and grinned.

he was talkative today, expressive ─ a rare occurrence with him. you'd consider it your lucky day if you didn't know he's only ever like this when his guard is down because he's simply too tired to keep it up. he's known you since you were small, you'd been there since the start of it all, and yet he still found it so difficult to relax. ─ you knew why, and you grieved for him when he could not.

he went silent, a scoff his final jab at your teasing, turning his head back out to the city that the bell overlooked, watching over it like a knight to its queen. the same city you can still vividly remember being covered in flickering flowers that drained you of the magic you built up if only to be at his side when he got into the college. ─ you remember being in the dorms, attending to any students who might need your help. and you remember when they started to fall unconscious. you remember looking outside as the flowers spread, until you too, went dark, only to wake sometime later with the mission of finding rollo to make sure he was okay. (he was, and you think you know why.)

"are you hungry?" you asked, crossing your legs and leaning forward.

"no."

"liar." you quickly rebutted, turning your head to him with narrowed eyes, "you didn't eat lunch."

"and how do you know that?"

"i know everything, my dear rollo." ─ you always made sure he was taking care of himself, always there to support even when he remained oblivious to it. you remember making that promise to yourself as a kid, to look out for him when no one else would, when he didn't know how to grieve, and he scowled and cursed at every mage that crossed your sight.

you grabbed the bag at your side and reached into it, pulling out sandwiches and bottles of water, "i brought you something to eat." you held it out to him with a look that told him he had to take it. he did, and he didn't need to say thank you because you knew that when tomorrow comes, he'll have your favorite pastry waiting for you, like he always did when you make sure to care of him where he lacked. "i would've cooked for you, but alas, i simply had no time."

"thank the stars." he sassed, and you would've gasped in surprise if you hadn't been expecting. ─ he really was so talkative today, lucky you.

"we are still sitting at the top of the tower."

"your threats have no effect on me." he scoffed, before taking a bite of the unwrapped sandwich.

you snorted and glared at him with faux annoyance, "see if i ever come back here."

a side glance as he chewed, before he jabbed back, "what happened to having me all to yourself?"

"i can manage."

"you're much too terrible at lying."

he's right, but you think that applies only when it came to your care for him.

and you know it will be the same tomorrow. ─ just as your watch strikes six, when the sky is painted with yellows and pinks as the sun begins to set, and many of your peers begin to retire from the rush of class. and although you would like to join them, you'd still find yourself at the belltower, like clockwork, with your books waiting for you to return to them, and a bag on your shoulder with sandwiches inside because you'd know he'd probably forget to eat lunch. and you'd find something else to jab at him about, to see how he's feeling, and know what he needs you to be.

because you made a promise to care for him, because you're not sure anyone else will.

do not repost, translate, copy, or run my writing through an ai

[mypoisonedvine]

I’m gonna be honest I don’t even know if this is how you send one of those little request thingy but I couldn’t stop thinking about soft dom!William Killick teasing wife!reader in public/semi-public 🤭 honestly you could write anything and I’d go feral

oh you're so sick for this I love you omfg

warnings: SMUT!! GO AWAY MINORS!!, dom william being sweet but controlling/possessive, semi public stuff of course, a little choking, housewife kink and sliiiight misogyny (definitely period accurate but also in a horny way)

"You'd let me, wouldn't you?" he taunted. "You'd let me take you right here, show them all who you belong to... like a good little wife."

You shivered, nodding as he reached up with one hand to wrap his fingers around your neck-- but the other was still between your legs, under your dress, making you whimper and look anxiously around the corner in case someone walked in. You should've known he had an ulterior motive when he suggested throwing a dinner party... William liked to keep to himself, stay in with you-- he wasn't especially social. But clearly, he had a use for bringing all your friends here... he wanted an audience, it seemed.

"You'd let me bend you over right here?" he pressed again, petting you more roughly through your panties as you arched your back, pressing your shoulders against his chest as he whispered in your ear. "Claim you, breed you--?"

"Yes, yes," you panted, "I would, William, you know I would..."

"But do you want me to?" he smirked, kissing your neck until your knees nearly buckled.

You weren't sure how to answer that. Your heart was racing with nervousness and your gut seemed to sink even just imagining someone catching you two like this. And yet, it made heat pool between your legs-- it made you throb, more desperate for him than ever. You absolutely loved belonging to him, being his 'good little wife' as he called you so often-- and you loved having him for yourself as well, so it made you a little scared to imagine anyone seeing the intimate moments that you shared with him. But knowing that no one would deny it then-- that they would be so crudely convinced you were absolutely William's property? It was certainly a tempting offer.

"I-I don't think anyone would come to our dinner parties anymore," you choked out instead of a true answer, and his laugh made you whimper just from how deep and dark and lovely it sounded; he slipped his fingers inside your panties, finally, both of you groaning as his rough fingertips slid easily through your soaked folds.

"I think some of them would be eager to come back," he whispered, "I think some of those men would kill to see you getting fucked. Don't you see how they look at you?"

You shook your head, reaching down to hold onto William's wrist as rubbed your clit just a bit too harshly.

"They want you, darling," he growled, "but they can't have you. You're mine, my precious wife--"

"Yours," you agreed in a low moan, thighs quivering as he touched you exactly the way he knew would get you to the edge fastest every time-- you loved how he had your body memorized, expertly turning you into his desperate, needy pet whenever he wanted. He could act jealous all he wanted, but you knew he craved the attention you received just as much as he despised it. Some days he wanted to keep you locked up in the house and never let another man look at you, spoiling you with his own affection instead; other days, he wanted to take you out just to show you off, flaunting you as his prize... this was apparently one of those days.

"I can do whatever I please with you," he reminded you as you purred and rocked your hips, moaning in agreement. "You're my wife, this is my home-- if I want to take you here and now, I will. No one can stop me."

You still didn't really think he would do it, though; you gasped when he tugged your panties down suddenly, pulling up the bottom of your dress and pushing you down by your shoulders so you were bent over before him. "William!" you yelped, "what if someone--"

"They won't come looking unless they hear you," he warned, "so just try to keep quiet."

But he'd opened his trousers in a moment and shoved himself into you roughly-- his pace was sudden and ruthless, and you had no time to adjust and nothing to hold onto. You knew he was going to do his best to make you as loud as possible, probably even order you to shout his name... and you, being his good little wife, were going to obey.

[lazywriters-blog]

I just had a thought!!

What if Lyney had a one-night stand with his darling after meeting her on his magic show, It's just mutual attraction, and his darling is pleasing to the eye, who could blame him for getting a little caught up in the moment talking with her and they're making eye contact for so long! Surely, she's attracted to him as he is to her. The next thing he does is kiss her hand, flatter her with compliments, and close the distance between them, he's making the first move and displaying his interest clear as day.

Lynette isn't around, and since he's stopped you from leaving and you've stayed and nobody is around in the opera house, it's just you both. You don't seem revolted and you retort by flirting back, subtly but to him, it's crystal clear. He's a master at picking up the smallest non-verbal signs so his insights are reliable. Caressing her cheek and then holding her chin he's about to test his theory, leaning over to steal a kiss. That leads to something more than an innocent touch of lips, the back rooms are safe from prying eyes and ears, and they could spend the night in hiding.

The next morning, she's gone and so her belongings in her absence are nothing but lingering cold from the night they relished in the dark, he should have known not to dwell on it too much but he couldn't help it when he went on a random search for her after a week, Lynette doesn't know, he hadn't told her anything. Perhaps, she would be better suited to find her or even know something.

Then, came the heartbreak, not because she already had a significant one, no, she seemed to ignore him when he approached her, and maybe she was just a little shy after their night together, he understands, he's kind of nervous as well. So, his solution, pester her till she couldn't dismiss him anymore, It worked however, she was irritated and he was not. Wasn't their night memorable? Didn't it feel like they had known each other forever and how the dark lasted long and each minute felt like hours? He's not desperate, he just wants to know her better.

She's against the idea, for seemingly no reason.

He backs off, only for a little while. He's been wanting to see her in the crowd once more, and this time, they could spend it more peacefully. Unfortunately, for him no matter how much he conceals it to himself, she's no longer interested.

He knows how to rekindle it again. He just needs to be alone with her, gift her a rainbow rose, kiss her cheek, and maybe pull out a ring to see her reaction. All in good fun, he's testing the waters so he can remain afloat. Love is hard to find after all.

If that doesn't work, he could try other methods. There's plenty he could do, hypnosis, nothing has been off the table for him.

When he finally does get the moment to be alone with her, dragging her away from the leaving crowd had been complicated but worth it, She's seated before him and they have the room to themselves and it doesn't matter if she wants to leave because he's locked the door and himself inside the room with her.

He couldn't let misunderstanding or anything that's been going on with them fester like rotting flesh. He needs answers and affection.

Starting with his usual mannerisms and cheery nature he breaks the ice and takes off his hat, observing her inch by inch and letting her know they had to spend some time alone, besides it's healthy for any budding relationship to have time devoted to them.

"Did you like my show? I especially planned the last trick for you, did you grasp the meaning behind it?"

he smiles, and though he doesn't show it, it's his last attempt at recovering their connection from sinking.

"You should drink the tea, it's not poisoned if that's what you are thinking." he chins with a grin.

Leaving her alone was not a desirable outcome, last thing he wanted to hear was her testament to being locked in the room with him, he's not keeping her there without her consent. She wants to stay and talk, with him, it's been so long since they've talked.

Noticing tell-tale signs of aggression was concerning and he's not all that strong if she manages a harsh hit, however, he is evasive. He has some experience while she does not.

"Go on, drink it. It's safe, I promise you."

He is maintaining eye contact with her, getting her to trust him again should not be this hard but she's smart enough to pretend and not drink a sip.

He hates to admit it, he has gotten himself charmed.

[kalims]

⊹ㅤfor you | equestrian club

premise. in an annual tournament they scoured the crowd for a sight of their favorite person. once they saw you—they knew. and the moment they win, it would dedicated to you.

note. this is gonna be a little series I guess? next is basketball club lol but I'll probs work on 'kiss your bestfriend' for scarabia before that

riddle rosehearts

resolve to win is basically rock hard once he saw you in the crowd cheering so loud that he knew you were gonna lose your voice the day after. if riddle wasn't confident he was gonna win he certainly is now.

if he didn't he doesn't know how he's gonna recover from the embarrassment.

I mean of course he's a little pressured now knowing that you're watching so the stakes are a little higher than usual. on the opposing horse, the other person is probably equally confused and mortified by the change of look in his eyes 😰

it's sharper, and definitely most focused. if they didn't know any better, riddle would definitely do anything to snatch that win.

he's torn. like, lowkey; fuck morals and the rules I will run over this sign to get a short cut. cause he really wants to impress you but figured it's a less,,, modest way of doing it.

the other is like normal riddle; how could I ever think about breaking the rules 😡

suprise suprise. his demeanor alone intimidated his opponents and threw them off so he won!

there's over 3 awards from tournaments like these in his dorm but he can't but feel like this one was more memorable than ever.

surpassing his usual limits. it's all because of you, because you pushed him over his bounds this win is for you. he thinks. riddle smiles with his cheeks.

to celebrate... shouldn't he take you out tonight haha...

ㅤ

silver

despite being a little woozy on a horse, silver proves to be a strong contender. lowkey pissing off his enemies with how little regard he seemed to give the competition.

I mean man just looked fresh out of a nap on that goddamn horse!

even though silver looks like he's trying his best (of which you know he is.) comparing him to his teammates would result in silver landing a close second in regards to focus. riddle of course first, he's taking it seriously. sebek on the other hand is confident enough in his abilities to know he's gonna win, therefore he doesn't really care.

silver? well he's just in the silver lining (ha, ha.)

though all the sleep seems to have left him the moment he catches your eyes in the crowd. there's quite literally hundreds of other people and even you don't know how he saw you. he just did, silver admits you have some kind of pull to you that he can't rid of.

which he of course doesn't wanna sever! he's just saying.

even from a little distance you can see his beautiful eyes sparkle in recognition and joy. hell, it's one of the moments you've seen silver express himself even if it isn't verbally. his lips quirk up, his eyes grow a little bit wider and his shoulders square up higher.

as much as silver would just love to relish in his happiness he had a competition to win.

(oh god he had a competition to win! and you're literally in the stands.)

with more fervor anyone's seen in a while it's like his horse understands his sentiment because it quite literally makes a loud 'neigh' battle, war cry of sort and zoom past everyone else.

silver doesn't even approach the stage because once he crosses the line he casually leaps off and jogs towards you. completely disregarding the host in hand with a trophy and medal that would have rightfully belonged to him.

why would he? the only embodiment of his win is right over there. (you.)

ㅤ

sebek zigvolt

of course the statement a few bullets I made over this one is not to underestimate the unmistakable fact that sebek does take the competition more seriously than he let's on.

in terms of focus he just gets distracted but he's going for the win.

but.

out of everyone sebek is most confident in the fact that he'll win. not because the equestrian of NRC has won plenty of times in the past, but because of the fact that it means that as a fae, he'll be representing briar valley in a way.

and in a way he's representing malleus draconia and sebek would never do anything to shame the young master. because all of his wins are dedicated to his glory.

but as many wins he's dedicated to the young lord he can never seem to catch him in the crowd.

sebek does not hold that fact against him. never, because he knows the hassle of being a heir to a kingdom and if attending his competitions meant stealing away the young lords precious time then he won't care. (though sebek believes that his master's faith will be with him without a physical form.) besides, lilia is there and that's all he needs.

he would like to convince himself that when he sees you he bubbles in what he called 'annoyance'. (later on lilia tells him how pleasantly surprised he was with a giggle.) he grips the bridle tighter with an increasingly warming face.

the onlookers spare him a weird look once they realize his tightly contorted face.

what in gods name are you doing here?! sebek never invited you!

agh whatever! he doesn't have time to ponder about a human out of all things. if he wastes it then he'll lose right here and then. sebek doesn't question the sudden burst of energy that accompanies his core but immediately huffs proudly when he crosses first, riddle passing by a few seconds later and sparing him an acknowledgement of a nod.

(interesting. in equestrian sebek has never gotten that much precise control over the path of his horse, which meant versus riddle he never won.) except this time apparently. riddle wonders what changed.

sebek doesn't spare you an action of a turn because he can hear you with his glorious ears from the fae lineage. he casts you a smirk. "did you see me? that is the glory of briar valley," he says simply. "and we do not need your support to win," he adds even though it was not needed.

you raise a brow. "we?"

"yes! were you not cheering for silver and rosehearts just now?" he shakes his head at you. oh this idiot.

"sebek," you say seriously with a laugh. "I went here for you, silly,"

oh.

oh.

steam comically pours out of sebek's ears as he bursts into a fit of splutters and denial. for the first time sebek is flabbergasted by the fact that someone came to cheer him on besides lilia and his admittedly huge signs.

point is you were here and for a moment sebek forgot about his constant wonders of malleus' whereabouts. because you were here.

for once sebek thinks he's won something not in the face of his master nor home. he flushes with a furious look on his face. it isn't so bad...

yes it is!! a part of his mind replies.

notes. OK OK so last song reccs post I had was quite a long time ago so here I am :)) these are more calming songs to listen to but definitely bangers

not proofread

[bvidzsoo]

Love made me crazy...

❅Boyfriend!Jongho❅

TW: mentions of a panic attack, and just an overload of fluff and delulu lol

Word count: 2,5k

A/N: Uh...hi? I don't want to talk about it, okay? I don't know what's happening to me because I keep writing and writing when I have so many other things to do, it's maddening. But this is solely Jongho's fault: 1. he keeps bias wrecking me, and I love this man so much that I can barely contain myself at this point; 2. he just had to mention the first snow fall in Korea man...; 3. I love Choi Jongho. Anyways, this is a small scenario/drabble, I don't even know what to call it. I hope you all enjoy it and leave feedback, I really appreciate it! Happy reading!

            There was something about winter time that you didn’t particularly like. Perhaps it was the sun going down too fast, coating the world into darkness at 5 pm already, or perhaps it was the cold which never seemed to go away, seeping into your bones, making it a constant reminder that you handled warmth and summer a lot better. But then there were also things you absolutely loved about winter: the cozy clothes you could wear, the hot chocolate with marshmallows you could frequently enjoy, the Christmas Carols which became annoying once the holiday was over, the joy and excitement you felt wrapping up presents and then opening yours, the possibility to go skating on a warmer day, the relief of entering a warm place after being out in the cold for too long, and the snow. The snow was your number one favorite. You couldn’t wait for it to finally fall, the first snow holding a deeper significance. If you were with your lover while the first snow fell, that meant eternal love and a lifetime spent together. The thought alone could make you giggle and you muffled your mouth with the paw of you thick sweater, having gotten off track while studying. The holidays were right around the corner and winter break would soon start, you wanted to get some homework done before you’d be on your merry way, and what better place to do that at other than your university’s library? The studious ambiance helped focusing on your task at hand, feeling determined to finish your assignment in cultural studies. It was a subject you weren’t fond of and found it hard to sit yourself down and proceed with the assignment, but after all of your friends have handed in theirs, you realized the deadline was dangerously nearing, and so, you finally committed yourself to doing it. If it weren’t for the library and all the other hard-working students, you probably would have given up after half an hour. But now, three hours later, you stood proudly, and admittedly quite tiredly, as you stretched in your seat, a grin on your lips. It was almost 7 pm, the library would be closing in just an hour. You only had to write the conclusion for your assignment, but that was something you could do in the comfort of your room too, so, you grabbed the two books you have used for research, and stood, turning to walk to place them back on their respective shelves. One section wasn’t far from your desk as you quickly found where the book belonged to, having memorized the shelf and two other books you have taken them from beside. Then came the last book, which was more towards the back of the library, where the lights were dimmer in order to save up some costs since no students sat around there. You turned to the left, walking down between two large bookcases, eyes narrowed at the titles of the books. Your vision was slightly blurry as your eyes hurt from having stared at your laptop for three hours without a break. You realized you had turned onto the wrong row, so you went to check out the next one, successfully finding the empty spot where your book belonged. You cheered very quietly, pushing the book back to its place, just as you felt hands on your waist, squeezing. You yelped loudly, grateful that you were in the back and not bothering anyone, as you quickly turned around, slightly terrified by who would sneak up on you like that, but your heartbeats slightly calmed at the familiar face of your boyfriend.

“Jongho!” You whisper-shouted as you lightly slapped your boyfriend’s chest, his lips pulling up into an adorable grin, cheeks puffing up and eyes twinkling with amusement, “You scared me!”

“I thought my girlfriend would be more aware of her surroundings,” Jongho teased as he ruffled your hair, making you pout, “Especially when a handsome man like myself was trailing her—”

“Ey, Jongho, now you’re just asking for—” You tsked as you narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend, who slightly stepped closer, making you walk into the shelves behind you.

“Asking for a what?” He asked cheekily, making your heartbeat pick up again. Jongho and you had been dating for two months now and you knew you should have gotten used to his antics, his shameless flirting and playfulness, but you could never quite do so. He always said something which took you off guard or made you a blushing and stuttering mess. Like right now, as he jut his lips out and made kissy faces, teasing you as you pretended to be annoyed, desperately trying not to giggle.

“Who’s the one asking for a kiss now?” You teased back, but only blushed more when Jongho smirked, leaning closer, your noses almost touching.

“I can’t help myself when my girlfriend is so cute.” You would’ve rolled your eyes but Jongho’s soft lips were pressed against yours, making your eyes close as your arms went around his shoulders, pulling him into yourself. Jongho’s hands wrapped around your middle, smiling into the kiss as your lips assaulted his eagerly, having missed him all day long. He had classes early in the morning and then he had to attend his swimming classes, his tournament was soon coming up, he had to train hard. You didn’t even agree to meet up today, but his presence was more than welcomed as you had been thinking about him all day. Your lips moved softly against each other, kisses drawn out and slow, Jongho taking his time in tasting you and the hot white chocolate you had drank not too long ago—you had to sneak that into the library, but what the librarian doesn’t know about won’t hurt her. You revealed in Jongho’s comforting arms, his honey like cologne sweet and familiar. He felt like home, like that cozy place you’d frequent because you grew to love it and made you feel safe, protected from the cold outside world. That’s how Jongho made you feel like, safe, and like you could conquer the whole world with him by your side. He was the sweetest person you had the luck of meeting and far the most loving person in your life. He was so easy to love, your heart felt full as your lips moved together, breathing in each other, wrapped up in your own world before Jongho slightly pulled back, seemingly breathless. It made you chuckle as you cradled his cheek and rubbed his flushed soft skin with your thumb, not even trying to fight off the huge smile on your lips.

“I missed you.” You couldn’t help but giggle as you allowed the confession to slip past your lips, and Jongho’s face lit up even more as his cheeks flushed a darker shade of red, lips pouting as he looked down embarrassed, but still nuzzled his face into your hand. Sometimes he made you wonder how you survived his cuteness without having a heart attack yet.

“I missed you too, how was your day?” Jongho asked as he raised his head up again, and kissed your cheeks slowly, slightly distracting you from what you were about to say.

“Way too long without you by my side, but—” You giggled as Jongho bit your cheek lightly, “I finally managed to do my social studies assignment!”

Jongho hummed and pulled away to be able to look into your eyes, “Finally, I thought I’d have to tie you to a chair myself and force you to do it.”

You snickered and lightly punched his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his neck again as you pressed a quick kiss against his cherry red lips, “And how was your day?”

“Productive and practical,” Jongho said confidently, eyes glinting with mischief, “I have mastered how to keep you out of my thoughts, you won’t be able to bother me anymore when you’re not with me.”

You gasped dramatically and tried to step away from Jongho, but his arms tightened around you as he grinned, fingers flexing against your sides, threatening to tickle you, “Don’t pout like that. If I keep thinking about you only I will lose in the tournament, and then I’ll be really sad.”

“You won’t lose, Jongho, you’re phenomenal, I’ve seen you compete before.” You encouraged him with a fond smile, having seen him competing before. It’s actually how you got to know of the existence of Choi Jongho. Your best friend had been a big swimmer until an awful injury, which led her to now enjoying going to swimming competitions, cheering for her once fellow teammates and rivals. Apparently, Jongho and her used to train under the same coach, so when she heard that Jongho went to the same university as the two of you while maintaining his swimmer career, she was exhilarated to go and see him compete. And, of course, she dragged you with herself, trying to convince you why you should also pick up a few swimming lessons as you couldn’t swim very well. The match seemed to be quite interesting, but you found yourself bored throughout the half of it, having to excuse yourself to the bathroom. On your way back is when you ran into Jongho, quite literally, as he came stumbling out of the men’s restroom. He seemed to have trouble breathing and when you noticed he couldn’t really form coherent sentences, it became obvious by his lack of breathing pattern that he was having a panic attack. Your best friend having those quite often, you were familiar with the process, and you managed in helping Jongho calm down, only to find out that he got proposed to join the national swimming team. Since he was already nervous from the current match, and that combined with the shocking news he had just gotten it lead to him feeling overwhelmed, which then lead to a breakdown. After you were sure he was feeling fine, the two of you parted ways and you went back to my best friend, explaining why you came back later than expected. And much to your surprise, after the event was over, your best friend forced you to wait with her for her long-time friend, only to introduce you to the guy you had helped with his panic attack, Choi Jongho. You seemed to run into each other quite frequently at university after that, and after a few in passing quick conversations, Jongho asked for your number, which you gladly gave to him. That was probably the best decision of your life.

“What would I do without your support…” Jongho mumbled to himself before he pecked your lips and stepped back, offering his hand for you to take, “Are you hungry? Want to grab some dinner on our way home?”

“I’m a bit tired, if you don’t mind, we could just hang out at my place instead of eating out.” You said as your fingers interlaced and the two of you took off towards your table. Jongho wore an ankle long dark brown coat, his black ripped jeans peeking through as he walked.

“That’s fine by me,” Jongho answered quietly with a smile, “how do you feel about some Chinese take-out?”

You grinned as you nodded your head at him, “That would be lovely.”

            After gathering your things and placing them in your backpack, Jongho and you were off towards the Chinese take-out place, hands clasped together, and noses hidden behind your thick scarves. Jongho talked about his day, told you about meeting his new coach and instantly taking a liking to him. He mentioned how Hongjoong got the call too and would be joining their team, leaving Jongho ecstatic that his best friend would be once again by his side not just out of water, but in water too. He knew you wouldn’t see each other for a month as he’d be touring the country very soon, so very enthusiastically he showed you the calendar on his phone and what plans he had made for the two of you for the remaining days of the month, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible. You couldn’t help but tear up a bit at how attentive and caring he was, pecking his cheek lightly despite Jongho hating PDA; he didn’t exactly complain as he turned his head and stole a swift kiss, making you giggle. Just as you crossed the road, the Chinese restaurant a few steps in front of you, something wet fell on your cheek. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up, dreading the thought of rain as you hadn’t brought an umbrella with yourself, and by the looks of it, Jongho didn’t have one either. Jongho noticed how you had stopped moving and he turned around, eyebrows raised as he gazed at you curiously, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared up at the dark cloudy sky, white specks helter-skelter falling from the darkness above. Your eyes widened as more wet spots fell on your face and you raised your free hand up high, opening your palm to catch the small snowflakes. Jongho’s eyes wandered around in surprise as he took in the sudden snowfall, fingers tightening around yours. It was the first snowfall of the year. Upon realizing this, your lips pulled up into a huge grin and you beamed up at Jongho as his eyes found yours. That gummy smile which you loved so much was back on his face and he gently tugged on your joined hands, pulling you into his chest.

“Would you look at that,” He muttered with amusement; however his eyes were filled with fondness, “The first snowfall of the year.”

“Just when I was walking with my boyfriend, how convenient.” You chuckled as your nose scrunched up and you leaned in, kissing the corner of your boyfriend’s lips.

“You know what this means…” Jongho trailed off, grinning as the snow continued to fall around the two of you, wrapping the world into a white blanket.

“I do, Jongho.” You whispered, suddenly feeling shy as your boyfriend cooed at you.

“I suppose you’ll be stuck with me forever now.” He said quite smugly, shrugging nonchalantly as he made you laugh, content about the prospect of having to live his life with you by his side.

“Wouldn’t want to have it any other way,” You brought your joined hands inside your jacket’s pocket, fingers having frozen by now, “I love you, Jongho.”

“And I love you too, pookie.” The nickname made you burst into laughter, but you pulled Jongho into a hug, burying your head into the comfort of his neck, the inside of his scarf warm against your skin. Your nose was freezing and Jongho yelped when he felt it pressing against his hot skin, making you chuckle. But he didn’t pull away as he patted the snow out of your hair, feeling content.

“Let’s go inside before we turn into statues.” He mumbled close to your ear and you nodded, agreeing with him. The moment might’ve felt magical, but you fancied knowing your body wouldn’t freeze over. With your hands still intertwined, you hurried inside the Chinese take-out place, giggling as Jongho ruffled his hair, making it stick out in odd places.

Yes, perhaps there were no coincidences. You could totally imagine living your life with this one lovable human being.

Masterlist (divider)

[warpedpuppeteer]

Please watch

https://x.com/bucksdaylight/status/1800876967061008885?s=46

Okay this damn video. A couple of things.

It's canon that Buck baked cookies for Christopher's class?? Buck has gotten Chris ready for school. Buck has cooked meals for both Eddie and Chris multiple times. Buck has helped Chris with his homework. Buck takes Chris out all the time. Buck has given him life advice. We don't see Henren or Athena and Michael doing those things daily either does that mean they're not the parents? 🧍🏽

I don't know why they think Chris calling Buck 'dad' would in any way or form take away the importance of Eddie being his biological dad. This person seems to think someone can only have one dad in their lives. Step-parents exist? Queer parents?? Foster parents?? They're not any less because they're not your biological father? Some biological fathers don't even deserve to be a father.

They also seem to think you're only a parent if you both do the exact same things for a kid, which is not true at all. Parents have different roles they play and different sets of responsibilities. One parent will be more into the emotional aspect and the other might handle day-to-day things. One parent might have a career that doesn't allow them to spend as much time with their kids as the other. Yeah, some parents might share all the same responsibilities but mostly they don't! This is so common in ANY family. You're not less of a parent if you don't make breakfast for your kid to school lol.

When you tell someone "there's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you", in this world, that is beyond any fun uncle territory. That is a co-parent.

Chris ran to Buck first when he was mad at his own dad. Chris most likely has Buck's address memorized because he called Uber. Chris didn't want to talk to Eddie but was willing to talk to Buck.

I'm convinced people like these watch a completely different show than the rest of us because Buck's involvement in the Diaz family is NOT just as a fun uncle. The Will itself is the biggest proof (despite their clown ass dismissing it). You don't name the 'fun uncle' as a legal guardian. You will choose someone who you know will step into the role of a parent for your child; someone who will take over all of your responsibilities as a parent in case something happens to you. If you wanna' see what a fun uncle looks like then look at Chim with Denny. Look at Buck with Jee-Yun. That's fun uncle.

You don't have to be romantically involved to be a co-parent but the fact that they're saying even if they date he won't ever be Chris' dad?? Reeks of homophobia and hetero normative bs if you ask me.

Also I hope the last episode was a slap to their face because 'fun uncles' don't get that involved in family matters. Eddie's parents didn't even ask why Buck was there 🤷🏽

They can say whatever they want but it doesn't negate canon. Buck is co-parenting with Eddie. Buck will never be the dad that is Eddie because that belongs to Eddie, true. But he can be another dad to Chris and it doesn't make him any less of a parent for that.

[deonsx]

Yandere Crush

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya

Content: hate, obsession, manipulated, slang conversations pm!chuuya, pm!dazai x Reader, angst

Story: You've had one night with the man you love for years but now he's obsessed with you

Dazai Osamu

Dazai Osamu, the head of the Mafia, who uses people, manipulates them and then throws them away but you are addicted to it you like to serve him with everything, is it an obsession?

You're just giving the man you love anything he wants..

But you will never have a real love life with him, he made fun of you, it was just for one night and he didn't even look at you after that night

You shouldn't have... even though you knew what he did to other women, you couldn't help but succumb to his charms There was no going back now, you couldn't be with him the same as before, you rotted in him cruel hands

What happened that night you repressed your memories?

You were at osamu's office that day and you were presenting the documents to him You were nervous enough because of this evening, your friends had arranged a "blind date" for you, of course you didn't like it, but you thought it wouldn't hurt to try

Your eyes were dull, you didn't even look at the man sitting in front of you out of distraction. you were done for today because you gave the documents you were just an assistant

You pushed your feet back from the desk in the office, and didn't forget to say "good day" before heading for the door. Just then, you felt a coldness behind you, before you had time to turn around, a hand touched your shoulder. silence dominated the room

"You seem to have forgotten something" you already memorized the face of the man behind you unresponsive face squinted eyes dark irises. "You're my assistant, you're an item I have" your brows furrowed "the thing you own?" the sound of breathing played in your ears scary..

Your boss knows everything, follows your every step, doubts whether you will betray or not, the eyes know and see you You turned towards him and he quickly pushed you against the wall and his fingers twitched around your throat. You had trouble breathing but you didn't cut your sight "You know me, I don't like to share, I'm selfish"

"B-breath" he grin widened and he flexed his fingers to give you room to breathe. his face got closer to you now you could define your face better Brunette skin tone dry lips Brown hazel eyes and bandages

He approached you and kissed you like he was really hungry, why couldn't you find the strength to resist him? What was stopping you? dreams? Fear?

When you back kissed him, the rope in your hand snapped and you were dragged into an irreversible mistake. you did it to yourself "now tell me" he asked out of breath "who do you belong to?" you didn't answer you didn't want to talk but when he grabbed her hair and pulled it slowly you spoke "Yours..”

Good times greeted you later in the night, you didn't resist him because you wanted him and now you were here listening to him sleep with another woman in front of your office door

You knew this would happen and you chose this pain over just one night of happiness..

Chuuya Nakahara

After a dreamy night last night, you looked at nakahara chuu, your boss, who was lying next to you in bed, were you a one-night stand for him? Most likely yes, he has never had a serious relationship so far, your eyes wandered around the hotel room

You dressed and left the room before Chuuya woke up, you didn't want to feel like a whore, you quickly went to your own house, your eyes were filled with tears, you don't even have a job now, it's always been like this

A few days passed, you were staying at your friend's house, you didn't want to go to your own house, you didn't want him to find you, in fact, you didn't even think he would call you

That evening, at the insistence of your friend, you decided to go to the bar. You put on a red wine-colored dress and finally left the house

"Come on, let's get a little distracted when you're in a bad mood these days!" Your friend spoke to you, "Look at that guy over there, he's looking at you with his eyes"

Your eyes turned to the man your friend was pointing at, you gasped "Chuuya-san.." your steps backed down, You ran out of the bar without letting your friend speak

As soon as you came out, you looked around and quickly walked into an alley, held your breath, "please...don't see me" you spoke in a whisper, "Why are you running, my dear?" When you turned your back, you saw the red-haired man with a grin on his face

"Oh I-" "shhh my beautiful assistant" his hands tangled in your hair, his fingers lingered in the curls of your hair "I couldn't find my woman when I woke up in the morning? why is that?" eyes closed and waiting for an answer

"I-I just didn't want to be a one night stand…” His head tilted slightly, his eyes looked into his eyes, you quickly averted your eyes,"Look into my eyes" you looked at him again

He grabbed your chin "shouldn't I decide that? What dreams of me do you have in that little head of yours?” His eyes narrowed again, an unknown rivalry formed in his eyes and he pulled you from your chin and locked you in his deep kiss

We Are 100! We're actually more than that but it's been a while before I wrote this(like 20 hours), I'm very undecided about whether to do an event or not

Request Are Open

[all-pacas]

I saw some of your posts saying how observant and clever Chase is,while also being a "dumb whore". I feel like this is the right place to say that I don't find his "ditzy slut" moments funny in isolation,without taking his cunning,calculating traits into account. If Chase is just a "himbo",it takes away the shock value(not to mention I've seen way funnier "simple dumbasses" than "isolated Chase moments"). On the other hand,a guy who can clearly think on his feet making terrible mistakes that could be avoided by a bit of common sense is a recipe for hilarious "wtf?" moments. Like,I've seen you deduce stuff with striking accuracy with minimal information,how did you come with such an inane conclusion? It's what they call "high intelligence,low wisdom".

Also,I saw a post of you saying Foreman is "book-smarter" than Chase,while the latter is more observant and a "people-person",besides having more "improvising" skills. This is certainly interesting,considering their backgrounds(Foreman was raised in the hood,had some involvement with gangs;whereas Chase was a rich brat with many opportunities. One would think their skillsets would be inverted,lol)

Even before I finished reading this comment, I was planning on making a "he's a high in/low wisdom," so thanks for making that joke for me, lol.

The thing is, Chase is legitimately very lazy. Or like. He works hard and he's very good at his job, but I think it's interesting that both his specialties are… obviously to be a doctor you have to be smart, but he has very hands on specialties. His job isn't to memorize and know everything about auto-immune diseases, his job is to be great at cutting people open and fixing them. Again, I am well aware surgeons and intensive care takes a lot of knowledge! But it's interesting to me, you know? He definitely comes off as less cerebral.

And he's deeply unambitious. He spends half the show in a fellowship, a training program, because he's more comfortable there. Cameron and Foreman have a subplot about writing articles; we never hear anything about Chase doing the same. House literally has to fire Chase to get him off the team. Where Foreman is always desperately trying to prove himself and be the best doctor in the room, and where Cameron is honestly also deeply competitive and demands respect, Chase… we joke about him being spineless, he is spineless, but also he never really seems to mind it. He doesn't care. He does not seem offended Foreman keeps getting put in charge, nor does he really want it for himself. He has the most seniority of the fellows, but never plays it up; he's fine where he is. And I think that's where his 'laziness' comes in. He just… doesn't try very hard. Very rich kid of him, tbh. He coasts whenever possible.

Meanwhile Foreman is a huge perfectionist, and has a huge inferiority complex. He is the first to tell everyone he had perfect grades (he tells Chase a time or two), went to top schools, has a perfect resume, because Foreman derives a lot of his self worth from being able to say that: if he's the best, no one can say he doesn't belong. I think it's because of his background that he's like this: he's a Black man from a Bad Neighborhood and has a Record and he's absolutely aware what that makes him in the eyes of others. He can't afford to be like Chase — Chase can get away with being lazy and unambitious because he's a rich, good looking, white guy (and foreign, at that — but the good kind of foreign, who speaks English as a first language and comes from a rich and successful family). If Foreman acted like Chase — like he didn't give a shit about his career, like he was just working for House for the hell of it — it would look different. It would feel different. Foreman is a perfectionist and has an inferiority complex because his whole life the world has told him he's not as good, he's doomed to "turn out" bad, he won't and can't amount to anything because of who he is. Cameron is assertive and ambitious and gets really touchy when people underestimate or overlook her, because she's sensitive and kind and weak (Foreman himself tells Cameron he thinks she needs to "toughen up"), and so she also constantly has to prove herself, and that she can be a Good Doctor And Leader while still being compassionate and soft. Again, Chase doesn't have to worry about any of this. He can be unambitious and easy-going about his career, because it doesn't really matter to him in the same way. He doesn't have to be the best student or get the best marks and have the best record. He has very little to prove.

And in a way, Chase is in the same kind of perception trap as the others. Not to suggest he has it soooo much worse than Foreman, but because he's a Rich Good Looking Dude, you kind of expect him to be a nepobaby. You kind of expect him to be useless and underqualified and shallow. To coast on his looks and to not have brains and have no idea how to manage in the Real World. It's definitely how Foreman sees Chase — he says as much, and lowkey hates him for it, and fair enough — but again what's interesting to me is where it isn't quite true. Chase is brilliant, when he cares enough to try. His apathy is learned, not born from an easy life; he comes off as cool and easy-going but holds grudges and resentments and trauma about two inches down. He's afraid of rejection and trying and failing, and so stays in his comfort zones. But where Foreman spends all his time and energy trying to prove the entire world wrong, to fight every automatic perception of who he is as a person, Chase leans in to his own facade. I actually think that S8 Foreman is a pretty happy person. I think S8 Chase, Chase MD in House's office, is at least 70% miserable.

[notthesomefather]

Prayer Writing: My Process

Why do I write prayers?

I write prayers mainly for two reasons. The first reason I would write a prayer is that I feel compelled to put in a little extra effort for a deity whose presence has either recently aided me or that I appreciate in general. The second reason I would write a prayer would be to have something repeatable that I can memorize and recite mentally or verbally at more impromptu moments (one example was when I came upon a statue of Odin in the forest, I wanted to have something to say that felt a bit elevated and worded my sentiments more precisely than if I'd come up with something on the spot).

When do I write prayers?

I write when I feel compelled for the reasons I mentioned above. I used to write one prayer a week, and I think that was good practice initially to get into the habit and develop my voice, but a strict schedule is not the structure I currently need.

To whom do I write prayers?

As I mentioned above, my prayers can be very targeted (either toward deities who have blessed me with recent or substantial aid or toward deities with whom I have a stronger bond). I also write more general prayers, usually ones of gratitude, intended for all the gods and disir who would hear them. I don't worry about ensuring each deity gets the same number or type of prayer as I've found when a deity wants to be honored, they will let you know. It's been my experience that some gods demand or appreciate formal acts of worship (such as prayers or rituals in their honor) more than others.

How do I write prayers?

This is the big question, isn't it? This is likely not the answer some folks were looking for but: it truly depends. I used to experiment with strict rules or structures within my prayers, including syllable count, rhymes, etc., but I've found that the god(s) I'm hoping to honor will guide the nature of the prayer. I've found that some gods appreciate a looser approach that is more raw and less "prettied up." In contrast, others seem to appreciate the time and effort of my making the prayer fit a more intentional, poetic structure (for example, Saga and Odin seem like they belong in the latter category, while Thor and Hel seem to appreciate intent more than content). One method of prayer-writing I found helpful to get started was utilizing the number nine. I would write nine lines (three sections with three lines per section), and each line would contain nine syllables--I wouldn't stress about rhyming if I were already using this structure, but if I could, I would try to make the last line of each section rhyme as a bonus.

TLDR: I advise trying out different structures to find your voice and see what feels right and remembering that even gods who may eventually prefer "fancier" prayers/rituals always appreciate your intent no matter how the prayer is written. And remember, prayers do not have to be written at all--this is just a method of worship I enjoy and feel benefits my practice. Your prayers are appreciated whether they are impromptu, sung, danced, drawn, written, thought silently, or any other form of expression.

[asirensrage]

Profane - Mitsuya Takashi x Reader Oneshot

Title: Profane Rating: Mature Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Pairing: Mitsuya Takashi x Reader Warnings: Non-descriptive smut? Nothing explicit. I don't think there are any major warnings in this one... Word count: ~700 Summary: You meet Mitsuya by accident.

Notes: I really love this fic. Like, I've reread it a thousand times and shared it with a bunch of people already lol. Inspired by the poem PROFANE by Ashe Vernon and I listened to Heat Waves by Glass Animals on repeat as I wrote it. I promise you don't need to know the fandom or character to understand this. I just really love it and I hope you do too.

You meet Mitsuya by accident. 

A chance encounter at a party that you’re only attending because the invite came from a friend of a friend and you felt like you hadn’t seen any of your friends in ages. They were all supposed to be there. Instead, you find yourself getting pushed by accident as you pass the dance floor and it’s enough to make you stumble. You don’t fall though. He catches you by your elbows, keeping you steady and helping you back on your feet. His gaze is soft, kind in comparison to the sharp glare that you send back to whoever knocked you over. 

You thank him for the assistance, and he promises that it was no trouble. You’re easier to catch than his sisters. That sparks a conversation since he’s removing his hands but not stepping back and you’re curious to see if he’s as soft as he looks. There’s something about him that draws you in, even as you’re tempted to step back, teeth snagging on his throat if he gets too close. He doesn’t though, letting you set the tone. 

By the time the party finishes, you’ve exchanged numbers and you leave wondering if maybe you shouldn’t have. You don’t expect him to text or call. 

He does. He tells you to call him Takashi. 

---

You’re abrasive and snap at times when you feel cornered, but he rarely seems to let it dissuade him. He waits, as patient as someone trying to woo a feral cat into their embrace, and you find yourself stepping closer with every interaction. He doesn’t press, doesn’t demand, and you think that you could ruin him. That you’ll break the best parts and lay waste to the remains. He whispers praises into your skin and you can’t help but laugh, teasing him with the attempts before you retreat. You don’t want to set a match to see him burn to embers and try to leave him. 

There is steel behind the softness. 

He has taken care to ease you into him and when you try to run, he pulls you back. He smiles as you snarl, unfettered in the way he presses his mouth against yours. You thought you would break him, but the man holding you is stronger than you realize. He isn’t one to let you run, to let you ruin what he has carefully crafted between you two. 

He shows you what it means to worship. The way he carefully undresses you, as though you are something to cherish in your unwrapping. You think that the longer you stay, the more layers you peel back and start to understand. There is a difference between softness and fragility and he proves to you that he can bear the weight you carry. 

He sets himself between your thighs, leaving marks as he carefully lays a trail with his mouth. His fingers carve a path that only he knows, memorizing the dips and curves of your skin, the places that make your breath hitch and what draws you out. He wants to burn the sounds he pulls from you into his memory. You feared you would leave him in ashes but you have him on his knees as he teaches you what it means to trust and fall in return. 

His moans draw out your own, eager to follow where he gladly leads. He fits with ease, the two of you connected in more ways than just one. You’ve never done anything to earn yourself the look you see in his eyes, but he whispers his praises and you’re inclined to believe. There’s no laughing in return when he feels like he belongs. You dig your teeth into him but he holds your throat with promise, keeping you steady as you both break. He is determined that you only call his name as he murmurs yours like a prayer. You’ve never felt more free than in this moment, here with him and the promises he makes as he kisses you.  

He holds you as softly as you can breathe. You think he might have taken your heart along with your speech, but when you tell him he simply smiles. You’ve had his first, he tells you. It’s only fair. 

---

gen taglist: @raith-way @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @themaradwrites @kingsmakers @far-shores

[0heartangel0]

Pt 2: Alice Hiragi's High-School And Earning Trust

Okay, let's fast-forward a bit to after the thieves successfully infiltrate Alice's castle, but can't get inside her birdcage due to this invisible door being in the way. Touching it reveals a voice taunting and being rude to Alice. The voice sounds like it belongs to a high-school girl. With the help of Sophia, they conclude that in order get rid of this door, they have to find the place linked to where these voices came from. They realize that it's a school, so go back to the real world in search for the high-school Alice Hiiragi used to go to.

However, Futaba, despite being the tech-wiz, can't seem to find any info regarding her high-school, almost as if someone intentionally wiped it off the face of the web.

Oh, no! How on Earth are they gonna get out of this one? If only there was some random guy working for the government, who just so happened to have the very information they're looking for, just strolling around here, willing to give up said information!

Well, look who it is! The thieves are once again up in arms about Zenkichi’s mere presence, with Yusuke even calling him a "shady detective." The funniest bit about that is that the part of the title that bothers Zenkichi is the "detective" part, and seemingly missed the shady part, until last minute:

(Bizarre how just last night, he would be all smug about being called shady in an optional dialogue, but now, he's very worried about coming across as such. Weird.)

He's here to offer information regarding where Alice Hiragi went to high-school - the exact information you need right now at this convenient moment!

Wait a sec-

What the actual-

But that doesn't even answer my question!

Oh.

Well. Okay then. He wins that one, I ain't gonna argue.

Anyway, since any info on Alice prior to her career is seemingly non-existent, seems only reasonable to happily take some off the hands of an equally reasonable PubSec offic-

Oof. Well, that didn't go so well.

Haru reminds Zenkichi once again of her least favorite kinds of people (him), which gets him to realize out-loud that if he's gonna get anywhere with them, he's gotta earn their trust. And with that, he reveals that she was their "senpai" (except for Yusuke. We needed that cleared up, apparently). As soon as he drops this info, he giddily tells them:

Except, they don't?

He gave them the information with no strings attached. In fact, he was able to even drop them information because he realized he needed to earn their trust, since they never wanted his info due to being a shady cop.

And yet, he makes it so they just miraculously owe him now that he has given them his very useful intel that he worked so hard to retrieve! And wait a second-

According to an optional line of dialogue, it's implied that he only *just* found out about the high-school thing that they needed so desperately. He even offers to go back to HQ to retrieve the information they might need on her. But, he somehow already knows which school she went to, off the cuff. How? How is that the first thing that sticks to your mind upon looking at her file? We know he has been at least looking into her, especially considering he approached them with the whole Alice interview, but everything? Is he just really good at memorizing things and/or is he really just that thorough with his investigating? I should probably stop there, or we'd be here all day.

The scene concludes with the thieves realizing the police seem to also be suspicious of Alice, considering he already had info on her (so I AM right, but still doesn't answer why he just remembered such an odd and seemingly irrelevant piece of info on her), and that they might have to reluctantly trust Zenkichi in what he says (even though they really shouldn't).

We don't see Zenkichi again, till a blink-and-you'll miss-it moment during the Shibuya calling card, where he's seen among the crowd watching the whole thing unfold. We get a few close-up shots of him, but one that stood out was the final shot, where we only get a side profile of his face below the eyes, showing him smirking:

my theory is that it's him realizing that his plan is working. I mentioned this "plan" before in the first part, but never specified it. All I'll say for now, is that he's gonna get the thieves to finally accept his deal, whether they want to, or not.

This will be further elaborated in part 3, where all is revealed!

Pt. 1

Pt. 3

Pt. 4

[ghostaholics]

I had a dream about your enemies with benefits ghost x reader where the reader had a cryptic pregnancy. She kinda just doubled over in pain randomly and BOOM. Baby.

HE'S A LETHAL PERFECTIONIST TO THE CORE: rigid expectations impressed upon everyone; it's what makes him a first-rate soldier – grit factor and an appetite for excellence in everything he does.

(The thing is, Ghost doesn't make mistakes.

Of course, there's a first time for everything.)

It's chaos walking in Bangladesh, guerrilla warfare against an AQ cell weaseled away in Dhaka because the shiteheads have business with the organized crime bosses here. It's a city jam-packed with civilians, innocent lives. No open-fire allowed. A place like this means guerrilla warfare. Hit-and-run tactics. God knows he's not trying to start an international incident by blowing up half the bloody capital.

Cloak-and-dagger: they're picked off one-by-one. It takes a full day. A mess to be cleaned up, and he does it exceptionally well.

Ghost doesn't get any reports outside of the mission until he relays his total kill count.

"Good work," Laswell radios in. "We need you on the first flight to Oslo."

He lets out a slow exhale while jumping into the driver's seat of the vehicle he commandeered a couple blocks over. Time to make his way to the airport, then. They need his back-up. He knows what that means. But he's not going to think about the fact that the rest of the One-Four-One are there for a completely different ops and whether things have gone south if they're calling him in. He was supposed to be their fallback plan. "Everything solid?"

"It's Mav."

His grip around the steering wheel tightens. If he starts speeding through the streets, then he doesn't notice, too tuned in to the conversation at hand. "Fill me in."

"Landed herself in the hospital."

Again? Christ. It's the second visit in six months. He was there for the first one. Damn near had to stop the bloody doctors from calling out her time of death. Fuckin' tossers.

"What's the damage?"

"Well—"

"Alive?"

"Yes," she says quickly.

"Then quit beating around the bush. The hell's wrong with her?"

"All in one piece. Just get here when you can."

Right, so no helpful answers from the Station Chief. And Ghost tries to contact the others, but gets the same fucking silence. Not Price, not Gaz, not even Soap who always answers just to take every opportunity over the comms to blather about anything and everything in real time. He's not sure why he's being kept in the dark like this, but it's definitely putting him on edge.

The only other message he receives from Laswell: Oslo University Hospital. He'd combed the website for information in between stoplights. It'll do, he supposes. Their services don't seem subpar, which at any rate sounds far better than fucking Moscow; he still gets sick thinking about it.

So he checks in, gets his visitor badge. It's a whole ordeal that takes a lot longer than he likes. They tell him what floor, what room. That's the Gyneacology and Obstetrics Wing. He triple-checks, making sure nothing gets lots in translation; doesn't sound right to him, but he'll tear up the place later if they gave him the wrong directions. He memorized the hospital layout already; it'll take him approximately three minutes utilizing the right staircase, or seven minutes if he wants to take his sweet-fucking-time with the elevators.

"Our gift shop is around the corner," they tell him in a thick Norwegian accent before he makes his exit.

Odd.

She doesn't like flowers or cards or sentimental things anyways. Calls them impractical. Would rather hoard his jackets or other belongings of his that she finds useful, so the gift shop would be a waste.

When Ghost finally gets to where he needs to be, 2 minutes and 45 seconds later (skipped every other step just to shave off time), he finds everyone sans Mav waiting outside the room. It's not a happy reunion, despite Soap's grin. Everyone's intact, nobody's dead or anything that would excuse their silence during his trip from Bangladesh. Ghost is extremely unimpressed with their lack of communication and promises that he'll deal with their sorry arses later before shoving his way through the door.

—only to be met with the sight of her sitting up in bed, a tiny newborn bundled in her arms.

... whose fucking baby is that?

And when his eyes snap up to hers, she's glaring at him with a positively seething look that could kill.

[llamamamarisen92]

Grief in Waterdeep - Madness part 2

TW: scary, ghosts, death, loss, grief, madness

Part 1 here:

For the next few months he obsessed over the text. Taking the time to memorize the spells and understand what would be required of him. The spell would require four thousand souls. Four thousand in exchange for one. The idea disturbed him at first. But if he were honest, he would let the entire world burn if it allowed him even just one more moment in her arms.

He heard someone knocking at his door. He refused all company since Helena's death. He was deeply annoyed that anyone would interrupt his work. The knocking continued. He got up and walked down to his towers entrance. He opened the door and there was no one there.

"Hello?" He walked into the night air. It had been the first time he'd been outside for months. An apparition appeared at the end of the walk way. The vision of his dead wife startling him. Her ghost was covered in blood from the waist down. Her long dark hair clinging wetly to her body. Eyes that were once the warmest chocolate brown now gray and vacant. A piercing wail fell from her lips. Eyes wide he saw her ghost floating away towards their small grove. He followed her wailing form, desperate not to lose sight of her. The apparition disappeared and then reappeared in front of the mausoleum that now held his wife's body. He walked over and fell to his knees. His wails now intertwined with her ghost's.

Something else whispered from behind him. A voice that sounded like a thousand souls trapped under water. "She is suffering." A chill ran down his spine. "Save her from the darkness. Can't you see she's trying to get out?" A vision filled his mind. A vision of his wife trapped in the mausoleum, unable to escape. He seemed to step outside of his body. He watched himself rush to the mausoleum and throw the door open. He barely recognized himself. The vision of a gaunt wizard who had clearly not eaten much. He looked like a true wizard now with his greying hair and beard grown so long.

He watched the image of a desperate man clawing at the ground where his wife's body was buried. "Such beauty belongs above the ground." The strange voice whispered into his mind.

Gale shook his head, trying to shake the trance he was in. But he was held firmly in it's tight grip.

"Oh great wizard. Surely you crave the power to bring her back. To feel her soft skin against yours. To hold her for eternity." He allowed the voice to seduce him. Hope stirring in him. Tendrils of madness wrapping around his mind. He didn't need to answer. Closing his eyes as he allowed the strange power to engulf him.

When he opened his eyes, it was no longer night time. He was covered in mud, his fingers split and bleeding from clawing at the ground. Looking down he saw her uncovered coffin. A grin spread across his face. A strange sinister laughter coming from deep inside him. He would have his wife again. No matter the cost.

I don't know where this is going, but I am obsessed with Gale having a villain arc after losing Tav. This has been cooking in my brain and it's very much a WIP but I need to put it somewhere in the world.