#i feel like my whole life is just one of those dreams where you're trying to run away from something but you dont move at all

[babygirlcowboy]

God gives his toughest battles (trying not to kill yourself for literally no reason) to his weakest soldiers (me)

[runningthroughthegarden]

dumb young love

1.9k words, summary: when art leaves you in the dust for tashi, a part of you breaks. after an argument art realizes how desperately in love he is with you.

request from @fangirlinc :)

you had gone and done the one thing everyone had warned you not to do. you had fallen in love with your best friend. i mean how could you not? he was handsome, charming, talented, funny, everything you could want in a man and more. you both had such bright futures ahead of you and just loved being in each others company. which is why you never felt the need to profess your love to him. but lately you've been rethinking this choice. 

you obviously knew how close art and patrick were, i mean you guys all practically grew up with each other. this dynamic never really bothered you, why would it? that all changed once tashi came into the picture. 

you had been there, at the match where it all started. you had come to support them like you always had, but within those few days something had shifted and you had no idea why. suddenly the boys were ditching you to go to a party you didn't even know they cared about. 

they had come back to you the next day, raving about how amazing tashi was and the night they spent together. you noticed a glint in art’s eye that wasn't there before, and you tried your hardest to suppress the jealousy you were feeling. 

that day, when patrick won the match, you couldn't help but feel relieved that art would remain yours just for a little longer. what you didn't realize is that art didnt care if patrick was with tashi, because he was still head over heels for her.

 

“hey are we gonna have dinner tonight?” you ask, throwing another tennis ball over the net.

“yeah, just gotta get back to my room and shower” art replies, hitting back the ball with a distraught look on his face. 

“is it tashi?” you sigh.

“what? no-no. i'm just stressed about my next match” he replies, walking over to the bench. 

“you're art donaldson. you’re never stressed about a match. c'mon just tell me” you say as you walk over to him. 

“its just. patrick called and all he can fucking talk about is how amazing tashi is. and then i walk around campus and all i hear is how amazing tashi is. no matter what i do i can’t escape her.” he confesses, putting his head in his hands.

“i can’t imagine you ever wanting to escape her” you reply, letting out a forced laugh. 

“what?” 

“cmon art, from the day you lost that match it’s like your entire world changed or something. i mean all of a sudden your whole life revolves around this girl” you scoff. 

“y/n i really don’t need this shit from you, i’ll see you later” he scoffs, picking up his bag and leaving the court. 

“art!” you call out, only for him to leave you there alone.

standing there you think back to when everything was fine. how art would link his pinky with yours as you walked. the way he would call you everyday when he had to travel for matches. the nights you spent in his dorm trying to cram week's worth of studying into one night. the way he would so effortlessly plant kisses to your forehead. the moments you thought he might actually be in love with you. but now all you had were those memories. 

 

before you knew it, all art was doing was hanging out and helping tashi train. he had been your training partner first, so it hurt like hell to be left in the dust. you decided to try and let it go and focus on winning your matches. your most important match was coming up and you couldn't let your silly love life get in the way. the one person you had always dreamed of being coached by was going to be at your match. so you knew you had to train like crazy to get to work with them. 

a part of you was hoping maybe art would see how amazing your match would be, and finally start paying attention to you again. but you knew you were holding onto false hope. 

 

the day of your match had finally come, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. this was such an important moment for your career and you couldn't shake those nerves. but you knew seeing art up in the stands would give you the boost of confidence you needed. 

the first set was about to start and you still didn’t see art in the stands. you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought that he might not show up. he would never do that to you. right? 

the first set had started and for a moment, the world around you started to fade. you may have hated tashi, but man was she right about tennis. you were performing flawlessly and you knew all the hard work was finally going to pay off. 

after winning your first set, you go back to your seat, taking a breather and still scanning the crowd for art. he was still nowhere to be found and you could feel your sadness turning into anger. deciding to use that as fuel, you prepare yourself for your next set. the rest of the game goes flawlessly and you know this is the best you have ever played. 

hitting the winning point, you stand in shock as cheers come from the stands. thanking your opponent you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face. that is until you spot art in the stands. you could feel all the anger and resentment you suppressed fighting to be released. this had been your best game yet, and there art was, to ruin it.

packing up your bag, you felt a presence behind you. all spectators and coaches were long gone so you knew exactly who was behind you. turning around to face art, you push past him not wanting to hear a word he has to say. 

“y/n please i-” art calls out, quickly catching up with you.

“you what art?!” you yell, turning around to face him.

“you forgot? you had homework? you lost track of time? oh better yet, maybe you were with tashi?” you continue, looking up at him. you could feel hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

he stays silent and thats all the answer you need. 

“oh my god you were” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“please just let me explain” art pleads, a look of desperation you’d never seen before. 

“today was the most important day to me. and i really thought that as my best friend you would at least care a little more. but i know where your priorities lay. and i'm done fighting for a spot i’ll never get” you say as tears quickly spill onto your cheeks. 

art’s hand reaches up to brush away your tears, but you step back. 

“stay the fuck away from me art” you choke out, quickly walking back to your room. 

 

the next few days were hell. spending each day crying in your bed, you had lost not only the love of your life but your best friend. you had gotten a call offering to be coached by someone you could only ever dream of working with. you should’ve felt happy, ecstatic even, but the last conversation you had with art was still ringing through your head. he had called you far too many times and texted you even more. but you had ignored every single one. the first day he came knocking on your door, but gave up after an hour of waiting. the apology flowers he had sent you sat on your desk. you had no idea what you were going to do. until, you got a text from patrick. 

patrick 

hi love, art told me about what happened im sorry. 

y/n

hi, you don’t have to apologize for him being stupid

patrick

do you want to hang out today? try to get your mind off of him

y/n 

actually i would love to

patrick 

meet me outside at 2

getting ready to see patrick was a highlight from these past few days. while you were enjoying your sulking you knew you had to get out at some point. going out to the courtyard, you see patrick sitting on a picnic blanket. your favorite foods and snacks were neatly laid next to him. you felt yourself genuinely smiling for the first time in a really long time. you spent the next hour eating your favorite meal and laughing at stupid shit with patrick. although your heart still hurt, you could feel your spirits rising. 

“thank you for this patrick, it’s all so lovely” you smile. 

“of course i’ll always be here for you” he gleams, pushing away the hair around your face and leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“what the fuck?!” 

you would recognize that voice anywhere. 

“art what are you doing here?” patrick stands up to face him. 

“oh i dont know maybe i go to school here? what the fuck are you doing here patrick?!” he replies, getting closer to patrick. 

“seriously y/n? you run off to patrick?” he questions, obviously distraught but you can't seem to place why. 

“hey you don’t get to blame her for this” patrick replies. 

“oh fuck off patrick would you let her speak” 

grabbing arts hand, you quickly lead him away from the public spectacle this was all becoming. 

“what the hell is wrong with you art?” you yell, shutting your room door. 

“i mean, you completely forgot about me for some other girl and now you're mad at me? none of this makes sense, you broke my heart. you don't get to be angry.” you continue, feeling tears brim your eyes. 

he paces for a second, running his hands through the curls you missed so much. 

“im in love with you” he stops, looking down at you. 

it felt like you were dreaming, like you were imagining the words that just came out of his mouth. 

“i always have been. i've just been so stupid about it. when tashi came around i threw myself at her because i thought there was no way you would ever feel that way towards me. and i know i fucked up by doing that, i really really fucked up. but when i picture my life i see you, i've only ever seen you. and seeing you with patrick, i was scared i lost you. i'm sorry y/n, i really am. i would do anything to take it back.” he confesses. 

“you’re so stupid!” you yell, pushing his shoulders. 

“ive been in love with you for like, forever!” you look up at him, confused as to how he never realized. 

“really?” he asks, pure shock all over his face. 

“yes! i thought it was obvious” you frown. 

before you knew it he was holding your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips. in that moment everything felt right, like the stars had aligned. 

“y’know i'm still mad at you” you look up at him, placing your hands over his. 

“trust me, i will do everything to make it up to you. i'm just glad you're finally mine” he couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face as he kissed you again. 

[netegf]

Hate It When You Leave

pairing: f!reader x rafe cameron

plot: you are trying to cope with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with your best friend. he's trying to cope with the fact that you don't go after the things you want... including him.

warnings: 18+, best friends to lovers trope, use of Y/N, mentions of alcohol and past drug use, non-graphic references to violence, some angst & jealousy, fluff and smut (public sex, teasing, oral female receiving)

word count: 6.5 k

There are parts about wearing your heart on your sleeve that no one ever talks about.

For instance, that it's hard to fix your face when the threads keeping that heart together feel like they're getting tugged, cut, and re-bunched into an ugly knot. 

The water bottle you're holding hardly has any life left. Even Kelce comments as much when he rounds his kitchen island, limbs swinging and loose thanks to the red Solo cup in his hand. He takes one look at the tight smile on your lips and tilts his head to the side, fingers twitching upward to your chin as he turns your head to face him. 

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asks, voice a little slurred, but thick with concern.

That was Kelce. Polarizingly good at getting to what someone was hiding underneath. 

But appearances went a long way for him. And he was so agreeable, it made him easy to lie to. Especially when he and Topper had practically begged you to come to this party, his first one since graduating college. Everyone would be there, he'd said.

And he was right, they were. 

"Nothing, Kels, it's just my stomach being a little funny." You tell him with a renewed sense of enthusiasm. You gaze at him warmly and quirk a brow, smiling genuinely. "How do you always know?"

"We've known each other our whole lives!" He barks in a laugh. "There's nothing I don't know about you."

You feel your heart squeeze again, like there's a too-tight belt around it. But you humour him with a sweet giggle and convinced nod, and it's all Kelce needs before he's walking away to mingle with another. 

How shocked he'd be to know that there was something you were hiding. 

You keep the water bottle you're holding close to your body as if it would fall straight out of your hands otherwise. When you watch the brunette seated next to Rafe on the couch squeeze his bicep again, you think it might just fall anyway. 

Some things don't change. 

The sun goes up and down. The moon makes a nightly appearance. Kelce never dresses for the weather. Topper claims everyone else is cheating when he loses. 

You love Rafe Cameron.

"Fucking sucks, doesn't it?" A voice rings next to you.

You slowly turn your head from where you're sitting on the kitchen island to see a familiar face lounging on one of the high-chairs. 

Topper, apparently, had always had an inkling. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Top." You grumble, casting your eyes away from the blonde protagonist of most of your dreams. Some of your nightmares, too. 

You watch as Topper rolls his eyes without so much as glancing at you, a small scoff escaping his lips. He takes a hearty sip from his cup of brown liquid. Tracking his eye-line, you're unsurprised to find that he's staring wistfully at the very same blonde's sister. 

Sarah Cameron is dancing in the corner of the room with John B., her boyfriend. 

A Pogue at a Kook party... the thought still makes you skeptical.

Not because you didn't like John B., or more accurately, like him for Sarah. But because a few short years ago, all this seemed entirely impossible.

Nonetheless, Sarah was important to all of you. 

And, like she'd said, Rafe listened to you better than he did anyone else.

When you explained to him how smitten his sister was with the boy, and considering how their relationship had endured far past those murmurings of 'young love' to, what was at this point, years together, he'd begun to understand that John B. wasn't going anywhere. 

Much to Topper's devastation. 

He promised he was over her, and he dated like it, too. But there were those moments where he had a few drinks in him and it made you think otherwise. 

"Oh, okay. My fault." Topper replies sarcastically, downing what's left in his cup and finally turning away from the couple he's burning holes through. "I thought we were being honest."

"I am being honest."

He glances at you sharply. 

"Uh huh. Hey, don't freak out, but, your nose is like, growing really long. Never seen anything like it before. It's like in that movie! What's it called, again? Puppet boy? No, that can't be right..."

"Very funny, Topper." You say dryly, but the hint of a smile on your lips sells you out and he chuckles next to you. 

"I was thinking Pinocchio." He fake recalls, nudging your elbow. 

This time, you laugh with your chest, and when you lift your head up to take it all in again, your eyes meet familiar blue ones from across Kelce's living room.

By now, you know how to mediate the warmth that blooms at the base of your spine and consumes you completely. 

There's a comfortable silence between the two of you before Topper starts speaking again. 

"You know he would do anything for you, right?" 

You chew on your bottom lip, still holding eye contact with Rafe who gives you a crooked smile. The girl next to him leans in to whisper something in his ear. He keeps looking at you. 

"Yeah, I know." You mumble half-heartedly. "I just feel like I might need to cut my losses at this point." 

Topper frowns for a moment, then stands up from his seat. 

"Well, you suit yourself." He pinches your cheek affectionately. "Because I, for one, want to crash and burn."

You snort at Topper's words and just as quickly watch him round the kitchen counter to grab another drink. 

Preoccupied with the way he extends that gesture to you, fixing some gross concoction of different sodas for you to sip on, a shiver rolls over your skin when it feels like Rafe's smouldering eyes are still lighting a fire on your face. 

Aron Andersen is a douche, but he means well. 

At least, that's the excuse you aways placate Rafe with when Aron inevitably runs his mouth, the blonde's fists tightening nearly every time in conjunction.

Typically, you opt for the pacifist approach because blood is a bitch to clean, Rafe whines when you clean him up with saline, and frankly, Aron isn't worth it.

But tonight, he seems to enjoy testing your threshold for patience like no one else before him. 

You suppose he's not entirely to blame. Kelce makes his drinks strong, and half of Figure 8 is sucking up all the oxygen in the room.

Maybe that was why Rafe had almost swung on John B. only a few minutes prior, claiming the younger man was feeding his sister lies about him. Perhaps it was just one of those nights. 

Still, you sigh when Aron drunkenly makes his way over to your new spot in the backyard, and press your lips tight together when he shoves a beer in your direction.  

"I'm not drinking tonight, Aron." You tell him plainly. 

Aron haphazardly plops down into the lounge chair next to you with his glossy, red eyes narrowing.

He grudgingly pulls the beer back from you and takes a sip that pools around the sides of his mouth, then drains down his throat slow and loud. 

"That sucks. You're more fun when you do." He scoffs.

Your mouth falls open as the words leave his lips, head spinning to meet his annoyed gaze. The faraway look in his eyes makes you gulp.

In no particular mood to be berated, you have half a mind to scoff back and get up to leave. But there's something about the way he speaks completely unadulterated that keeps your body locked in place.

Like you're dying to know what someone really thinks of you.

"Why not?" He presses, gesturing with his finger accusingly. 

"I'm driving."

He continues to stare at you blankly.

"I'm driving." You reiterate, irritation seeping into your tone. "And drunk driving is illegal, Aron. You do know that, right?"

Unintentionally, your eyes flicker to a slightly rowdy and staggering Topper across the room. Aron zeroes in on that and rolls his eyes emphatically. 

"Now it makes sense. You're taking your boyfriends home." He pitches the word in a scornful taunt, squinting over your shoulder. "Where is Cameron, anyway?"

You feel your heartbeat rage in your chest, tongue numb and mind in disarray. 

"Don't be a dick, Aron. They're my friends." You bristle. But he seems unfazed, lazily quirking an eyebrow. 

"Please don't tell me you're that stupid, Y/N. Friends?" He laughs obnoxiously. "I get you're in love with the guy, but you run around for them like a maid. You ask me, the least you should be getting out of it is a good fuck."

Your fingers twitch at your side as you shoot up from your seat, really and truly considering that pouring his beer over his head might be the best option.

Given that Aron routinely takes up two parking spots to park his Range Rover and cheats on his girlfriends, you think it might be a long time coming. 

His words hurt for more than one reason. Of course, because he'd sooner die than recognize that you very much could maintain a healthy, platonic, and meaningful relationship with your friends of over a decade.

But also because, when it came to Rafe, he was goading you with a kind of intimacy you knew you'd never be able to access. At least not in the way you wanted. 

When a firm hand grips Aron's shoulder strongly and whips his body around, you soon realize you don't have to resort to such a physical display. 

While it was true that Rafe's face didn't make him look particularly kind, he'd only been seriously pissed off, to the point that his stomach felt like caving in on itself, a few times. Like in those months right after he'd graduated high school and felt like a big question mark. Every time his dad looked at him disapprovingly, it affirmed that sinking feeling in him, and he learned that he sometimes articulated his sadness in anger.

These days when he's mad, he mulls the feeling over a few times in the interest of scraping for another feeling underneath. 

Now, though, all Rafe feels when he meets Aron's arrogance with an intensity of his own, is unbridled rage. 

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Rafe speaks at a low register that makes your breath quicken. His movements are a little clumsy, blue eyes slightly glazed over, and his dirty blonde hair kisses his forehead that's speckled with sweat. Cheeks dusted red in that way that you love, more prominent when he's inebriated.

His fingers are still pressing harshly into Aron's shoulder, pressure concentrated and steady if the way he winces is any indication. For a second, his eyes flit over to you and the frown on your face, and they begin to soften. But then Aron is sputtering and stealing his attention and he hates him all over again for it. 

"My bad, bro." Aron offers lamely, hands jutting upward in surrender. He attempts to step away, but Rafe keeps him locked there. 

"Yeah, it's your fucking bad, bro." Rafe sneers.

He roughly shoves Aron backwards as he lets go of him and the man quickly scurries away knowing that if he sticks around, Rafe will probably force him through clenched teeth to apologize to you.

You feel your heart hammering in your chest for a different reason.

Your mind is trapped in a loop, repeating every word you said to Aron over and over again, wondering how incriminating they were, and debating how much exactly Rafe had heard.

And if he had, if he was coherent enough to either dismiss or believe the accusation that you loved him. No, not love, you shudder... in love. Aron had said, verbatim, that you were in love with him. 

"I would've handled it." You mumble with your arms crossed over your chest.

Rafe sighs as he turns his body to face you, rubbing a hand over his jaw, now partially relieved of the tension it was holding. He chews on his bottom lip cautiously, like it'll help break the fall of the words bound to spill out of his mouth, a little too unrestrained in his drunk state for his liking. 

"I know that." He nods slowly. "I just wanted to help to help you... handle it."

He stumbles a little as he moves toward you and you instinctively wrap an arm behind his torso, holding him against your body as a human splint. 

"Plus, I kinda have a reputation going for me. No one's losing their shit if I fight a guy."

"Or two." You say pointedly, thinking about his almost altercation with John B. earlier in the night. 

Rafe buries his head into your shoulder, groaning loudly into the bare skin as it heats up and vibrates. 

"Fuck, not you, too."

He lifts his head up to continue, and you lug his body towards the living room where you spot Topper talking with Kelce and some others. Without speaking, Topper seems to understand what you're saying, nodding then pointing to himself followed by the stairs. 

He'd driven you to Kelce's and you promised to stay sober and drive him back home. But now, it seemed like the plan was going to shift.

Topper would stay the night at Kelce's and take his car back in the morning. You would take Rafe's truck back to his place and walk the rest of the way. You were practically neighbours, anyway. 

"If she wants to talk shit about me to her boyfriend, that's one thing. But him, talking shit about me, to her? What's he trying to do? Turn my own sister against me?" 

"I get it, Rafe. I really do." You nod, an amused smile on your lips as you tug him out of the front door and towards his truck. "But you promised Sarah you'd be nice, remember?"

"I am being nice." He protests with his hands tapping at his chest. "I didn't even fucking touch him."

You scoff lightly as you strap Rafe in his passenger seat, noting the way his eyes begin to flutter shut. Humming softly, you poke a cold finger at his cheek and watch as they blink open again. 

"I'm taking you home, okay?" You murmur gently. 

"No!" He objects, large hand circling your wrist. He rubs his forehead with the other one, trying to remember something. "Got a meeting in the morning. Ward is gonna flip if he thinks I've been out all night fucking around."

You look at him uncertainly, waiting for the thing that you don’t want him to say, but know he will.

"Your house? Please?"

There was a time when sleepovers with Rafe were a common practice. Sometimes, after parties like this, with Kelce and Topper.

Other times when you convinced the boys to binge a new movie or TV series, usually ending with at least two of them falling asleep. Rafe made a habit of grumbling his critiques of the things he watched, but always stayed up with you. 

For a while, when he hit an especially rough patch with his dad and spent more nights than he would've liked getting high out of his mind.

As much as he'd tried not to pull anybody else into it, he found himself seeking comfort in the warmth of your bed. It helped that you always received him with open arms, even when his early morning phone calls were disorienting and he cried silently into your shirt in the hours after. 

Those nights felt so distant, and yet, like you could touch them if you reached out just far enough.

Rafe had girlfriends on and off, and sometimes that version of him felt like a stranger. You felt a strange pity for yourself when you realized that it might've been a good thing. That he was getting better and without falling back on a crutch, even if that crutch was you. Suddenly, him sleeping at your house felt weird and misplaced more than anything else. 

"I don't know, Rafe...," you begin to trail off, but the blue desperation in his eyes makes you reconsider. He's still holding tenderly at your wrist. "Fine. But if you puke on my sheets, you're done. Do you hear me?" 

Whether or not Rafe hears you is unclear, but you take the delirious smile forming on his lips as a non-verbal affirmation. He huffs out a long breath as if he can feel himself finally relaxing. His eyes start to close again, too, as you start his truck and drive the short way to your house. 

"Don't even think about falling asleep on me, Cameron. I am not lugging you up the stairs."

"You're strong." He reasons smoothly, lids still shut as he smirks. "You were about to deck the shit out of Aron Andersen when I found you."

Getting Rafe up to your bedroom goes better than you'd imagined, now with a few years of experience under your belt. 

You get him to sit down on your bed, and he fiddles with the items on your nightstand while you rummage through your armoire for an old pair of his pajamas. He complains when you throw him a pair of sweatpants and a sports t-shirt he used to wear in junior high, claiming that it'd be too tight over his arms and chest.

Plus, he'd added, it was far too hot to be wearing a shirt, anyway. 

"I love these." 

Changing into sweats of your own, you exit the bathroom to find Rafe sitting up in your bed, part of his bare torso obscured by your white sheets. His attention is fixed on a small group of rings on your bedside table, silver and gold hues reflecting under the dull rays of your lamp.

He slowly picks one up.

"Yeah, I'd hope so." You snort, tentatively slipping into bed next to him and painfully aware of the sorry excuse for space between you. "You got them all for me... kook."

Rafe cracks a sleepy smile, rolling his eyes playfully.

"You wouldn't tell me which one you wanted." He shrugs like it's the simplest thing in the world. 

He sets the ring back on the table and switches off your lamp, blanketing the room in a stroke of darkness. Rafe lies on his back and you opt to turn to your side, facing the wall.

Looking at his face only a few inches away from yours, when he's about to sleep in your bed, feels like it will be too much. 

"Asking for what you want is weird, Rafe. Nobody likes it."

You chew on your bottom lip in the dark.

"I do." He says in a scoff that turns into a yawn. "How else is anyone gonna know? People don't usually stop you and beg to find out."

You swallow roughly. That was true enough, they didn't.

But Rafe did. He always did. You revered him for it.

There's a long silence between you and all that echoes against the wood framing of your bed are the heavy and sometimes irregular sounds of your and Rafe's breathing.

Against your better judgement, you think he might've fallen asleep and almost turn around to check. 

"Is it me?" He asks quietly, voice scratchy with exhaustion. "... what you want?"

You feel your shaky breath hitch in your throat. 

"Because if it is... you don't have to ask."

His words linger in the air for as long as it takes your wildly beating hard to calm down.

By the time your body regains some feeling, the sound of Rafe's soft snores pierce the oddly crisp air clouding your room, and the choice to unpack what he said right now, or in the morning, is made for you. 

A shiver runs down from the nape of your neck to the tips of yours toes. 

Rafe is gone by the time you wake up.

The harsh but comforting sound of rain clangs against your roof, and you stretch your limbs to the thought of a cloudy and obscure summer day. 

It's better this way, you think. The absence of Rafe's warmth next to you would feel worse if the sun was shining, teasing. 

Your fingers play underneath your comforter to locate your phone. Scrolling through your notifications, you frown seeing that none of them are from Rafe.

In his defense, it was only about 9AM now, and he'd probably just had enough time to take a quick shower, get himself the smallest bit presentable, and still barely make it to his meeting with a client.

The used bathroom towel in your hamper and flannel pajama pants hastily thrown on his side of the bed are compelling indicators. 

In his defense, he was drunk, and there was no telling if he remembered anything about last night. 

Drowsy proclamations of desire and confession, included. 

You wrestle with the idea of calling him and letting it all spill out.

Kissing him on your front lawn, in the rain, with dewy blades of grass nipping at your feet. Hands threading through his wet hair and tugging, hungrily, because you're starving and happy, and these are liberties you can afford in imagination.  

But you settle on seeing him later tonight, in person. It's your dad's charity after all. 

"I just wish you would have told me earlier." Your disappointed words hang in the air for a few moments as you play with the hem of your silky baby blue dress.

Your father had mentioned to you once before that his new business partner had a son about your age, newly graduated from UC Irvine. 

He hadn't mentioned, though, that this mystery guy would be attending the charity tonight, and he'd offered you up as his own personal tour guide.

Your father hadn't used the word date explicitly, but that's what it felt like when you were handed an odd-smelling bouquet of flowers, standing awkwardly next to the brunette who you were apparently to keep the company of all night, though he might as well have been a stranger. 

Daniel was nice enough.

He complimented your dress and your makeup, smiled and pulled out your chair before you sat down at your assigned table.

But it felt weird accepting praise and chivalry from him when your heart was busy beating erratically at the simple thought that your dress matched Rafe's eyes.  

The venue is extravagant like it always is, what with it's elaborate crystal chandeliers, ice sculptures, and floral center pieces larger than your head. 

At your table, you note your and Daniel's name cards labeling your seats. Next to them, are Topper, Kelce, and Rafe's. There's a sixth seat that has no label and you tilt your head to the side thoughtfully, considering that Topper or Kelce must be bringing a date. 

"This place is incredible. Your dad is so impressive." Daniel says in awe from the seat next to you. His eyes trail around the room, wide in amazement, reflecting back all the vibrant lights in the brown of his pupils.

You smile weakly at him, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear that always seems to take flight despite your attention to detail.

"Yeah, he's really something. Likes to orchestrate a big show. You should see him at the winter ball. Live doves, and everything." 

Daniel nods, moving on to say something that starts to sound unintelligible when something else piques your interest. Someone else. Multiple someones, entering the banquet hall. 

Craning your neck, you make out Topper and Rafe. And a girl. 

No. Topper... and Rafe and a girl. She has her arm tucked around Rafe's as he escorts her in the direction of your table. He's wearing the grey tux you like, the one he wore to Rose's sister's wedding with the ornate thread detailing. His smile makes the two halves of your heart squeeze together. 

"Hey, you okay? You're squeezing that wine glass pretty tight there."

Daniel likely means well, eyeing the way your fist clenches around the stem of the glass you've yet to take a sip from. You shoot him an embarrassed smile and release your straining fingers.

An emotional support water bottle sounds like it would be really nice right now. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous... my dad always gives a speech at these things." You explain.

As the trio begins to approach, you realize it's Shelley Thompson gripping Rafe's arm, a sweet girl you knew from the Kook Academy.

Even now, she always waves when you run into her at the Island Club, and she has a swing on the golf course like no other.

She's a good match for Rafe. You hate to admit it, but it's true.

When Daniel speaks again, you can barely hear him.

"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about." Daniel chuckles. "I have a hard time imagining that your dad would be bad at anything..."

Topper, having heard the tail-end of your conversation, plunks himself down in the chair across from yours and rubs his forehead tiredly. You shudder at the way he smiles empathetically at you. Like there's something to be consoled about. 

"Hangover?" You ask, shoving the shaky feeling down and shooting him a teasing smirk.

He groans loudly and buries his face in his hands.

"That's the understatement of the year. Feels like I'm getting my skull bashed in." He mutters through the skin, then he peels his head away and grimaces at the screechy music being played. If there was one thing your dad was bad it, it was decent music taste. Topper laughs heartily, shaking his head. "Then again, maybe I am." 

The lightheartedness is interrupted for a moment as Rafe and Shelley pull up to the table, taking their seats accordingly. Rafe rakes his eyes over Daniel for a few seconds, but otherwise stays silent and it makes you frown. You look at him, desperately trying to uncover if he remembers any details from last night, but his expression is unreadable.

Shelley, on the other hand, grins at you enthusiastically and starts to chat with you about the time she interned at your dad's company. 

You find yourself glancing at Rafe every so often, each time catching him staring blankly ahead or at his lap, and always fidgeting with his fingers. 

"Who's this?" He asks suddenly, nodding his head at the man next to you. 

"Oh." You swallow. "This is Daniel."

Finding that insufficient, Daniel takes it as an opportunity to formally introduce himself. 

"That's me." Daniel waves sheepishly, gently squeezing your shoulder with his other hand. "Y/N's been showing me around. Well, her and her dad. I really love what Mr. Y/L/N's been doing with his company. He does some incredible work out here. It's not often that you see-,"

Topper snickers when he cuts him off. 

"Maybe he should've been your date."

Daniel laughs it off, blushing slightly and concealing it in a short cough. But you kick Topper under the table in retaliation, ignoring the way he holds his shin and groans out a soft "Ow!". 

After that, Shelley, Topper, and Daniel divulge into conversation, shifting from topic to topic and at some points, sharing boisterous laughs together.

Rafe keeps his lips pressed together and his words concise. While you fiddle with your utensils, you feel his eyes on you, igniting heat under your skin. 

He stares at you hard, like he's waiting for you to say something. Begging, even, with the way his forehead tenses and his brow stays quirked.

But you didn't know what to say.

Or maybe you didn't know how to say it. Especially not here. Especially not when he had a date. 

Rafe rolls his eyes and chews on the inside of his cheek, standing from the table abruptly, the movement making the cutlery tremble.

"Hey, I have an idea." He says while tugging on Shelley's hand. "Let's dance."

You watch as Shelley squeals with excitement, jumping from her seat to follow Rafe towards the center of the large room where the music is playing. 

"Couldn't pay me to get closer to that band." Topper mumbles offhandedly. You're sure he's trying to make it sting less, but some pains don't have a perfect antidote. 

Daniel sends you a look, silently asking if you want to join them. 

"Maybe later." You reply quietly. 

Watching Rafe wrap his arm around Shelley's waist, you feel your heart sink slowly into your stomach.

In the middle of Daniel's rambling and Topper's occasional acknowledging hums, you rise from your seat and stumble into the courtyard for some fresh air.

Surely, your heart would keep sinking if you saw any more, and your heels were too tight to fit anything else. 

The courtyard is a beautiful mix of greenery, fairy lights, and concrete statues, but it does little to ease the ache in your chest. You sit on a stone bench and try to control your breathing with your head between your knees. 

Though it's turbulent and shallow at best.

"What's wrong?"

You know it's Rafe without looking up. Sighing into the palms of your hand, you slide them down from your face and lift your head up. Surely, your makeup is smudged, and the thought makes you more miserable.

"Nothing." You say more sharply than you intended. "Nothing's wrong. Just go away, Rafe."

He looks at you completely scandalized. 

"Are you... mad at me?"

You let out a deep breathe, averting your gaze to the ground as you collect yourself. "No, I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"

Rafe scoffs, entirely unconvinced. He rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. 

"Well, fuck, if this is 'not mad', then I don't want to see what mad looks like." 

"Can you just drop it? Please, Rafe? Drop it?" You beg, sniffling slightly as you stand. You hadn't noticed when your cheeks started to get wet. Likely too much in denial.

Despite the way it's honoured you in the past, crying was offering no release at this point. It's not like any of this was Rafe's fault. Even if he had gotten your hopes up last night, he wasn't obligated to act on drunken pillow talk. Maybe he hadn't meant it in the first place and was only trying to make you feel better.

"You won't talk to me." He says sadly.

You bite down on every explanation you want to give him. Chest pain heavy and unrelenting.

"Just... go back to Shelley, Rafe. She's probably waiting for you."

Rafe looks puzzled when the words fall weakly out of your mouth.

Then, he nods, like something finally clicks for him. He meets your eyes with fervor as he presses his lips together.

"So, this is about Shelley?" He asks.

Your head hangs and silence intensifies between you. It speaks for itself.

"The same Shelley that's been fucking Kelce on and off for the past two years?"

He watches your mouth fall open and eyebrows furrow, continuing as you stare at him.

"Kelce promised to take her out on a real date, but then he got caught up at work... asked me to keep Shelley company until he showed up. We didn't come here together, together, Y/N. I thought you knew that." 

Your mind buzzes as he speaks, bottom lip wedged under your teeth.

So, he wasn't here with Shelley. And he probably did remember both what he heard and said last night if he could recognize that you were jealous.

Jealous. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut. The feeling was always two-fold. A person would feel jealous, then humiliated that they had. You don't know which one is worse.

You peak an eye open, chewing through your words. "Why couldn't Topper do it?" 

"Have you met Topper?"

That was a good point. 

Still reeling from the new information, you look down at your lap pensively.

"But you did." Rafe begins after a few beats of silence. When you frown in confusion, he clarifies. "... come here with someone."

You crane your neck up to look at him. There's something you can't place in his eyes, but it's cloudy and all-consuming. His hair is a mess from the way he's been ruffling through it, and his cheeks are flushed and tight.

"What, Daniel? Are you kidding me? I only brought him because my dad ask-," you begin to explain, but Rafe cuts you off. 

"I don’t care why he thinks he can touch you. I just want him to stop.”

Despite the small gust of wind that blows past you both, you feel a warmth at the base of your neck... in the palms of your hands. Maybe it was the beams of light overhead, illuminating your bodies amidst the greenery.

Or, maybe it was just Rafe's words.

The intensity of his gaze. The way he steps towards you as he speaks them, warm hand eventually reaching out to graze over your cheek in a way that makes you gasp in a mixture of shock and excitement. 

For a moment, you think about yourself and the many soul-crushing nights spent watching Rafe talk to and touch and kiss other people, the overlapping visuals making you queasy. 

"I know the feeling." You say quietly, hot breath fanning over his face.

Rafe frowns a little, soaking up the meaning of your words. He nudges his face closer to yours, until your noses are touching and his lips just barely graze over the pair he desperately wants to taste. He draws back suddenly, suspending all the air in your lungs. 

He eyes you cautiously, challenging silently as he licks his lips.

"Not gonna do anything unless you ask." 

You nearly cry out in response. "Rafe, please. I... I want you." Ignoring the way your desperation makes your skin feel tingly and your head spin, you shut your eyes tightly, realizing that only really skimmed the surface. You try again, gulping. "I've always wanted you."

"Fuck." He breathes out, eyes fluttering shut. "Never stop saying that." 

Stifling the sound of another whine from your lips, Rafe kisses you feverishly.

He moves his soft lips in tandem with yours, swallowing each of your breathy moans. One of his hands traces over the swell of your jaw while the other stretches tenderly around your throat. "Know what I wanted to do when I saw you sitting there next to him?" 

You nearly scream in protest when Rafe pulls his lips off yours, but fall silent when he trails kisses down from your jaw to your neck and collarbones, sloppily sucking the skin then laving his tongue over the afflicted areas. Unsatisfied until your pushing his head away from the sensitivity. 

"Wanted to knock his fucking teeth out." He murmurs with his head buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving searing kisses. "But I don't do that shit anymore. So I'll ruin his night a different way."

Rafe moves your body with his until the backs of your knees hit the concrete bench. Your mouth falls open as he sits you down on it, kneeling in front of you. He presses a ticklish kiss to your knee and his bright blue eyes peer up at you through his lashes. When you nod, he parts your thighs and pulls your panties down in a single unbroken movement, committing every second to memory.

He stares longer than he should, groaning at the way your wetness collects on his finger when he traces a finger over your slit, spreading you apart. 

"Can't believe," he moans into your mound, running the flat of his tongue over your center again and again. "... you kept me from this pussy for so long." 

You throw your head back at the sensation, finding nothing but air and Rafe to support you as pulls you closer to his mouth.

"That," you say in a broken moan at the feeling of Rafe's tongue inside you. "That's your fault, remember? I was always here — shit! Waiting for you.”

Rafe hums against your pussy at that, neither agreeing or disagreeing. His nose nudges your clit as he tastes you greedily. You tug at his hair to dissipate some of the energy building inside your core, but it only makes Rafe work harder. 

"Didn't think I deserved you." He admits, pink lips mesmerizing and wet with your slick and his spit. Rafe takes your clit into his mouth and sucks obscenely, the slurping sound sending a flash of heat through you. "Doesn't matter now. I'm good at making up for lost time..."

Your thighs clamp around Rafe's head as he fucks you with his tongue. It's only now, as gasps and high-pitched sounds fall wantonly from your lips that you come to the reality that you're letting Rafe eat you out in the courtyard, and anybody from the party could come here and find you. Still, you moan less controlled than you would have hoped when he suckles at your clit again, drinking at your sopping pussy.

"Hey, have some common decency, huh? There's some very nice people in there trying to enjoy a party." 

Rafe smirks when you pull at his hair even harder, mostly at the thought that you think it could be reprimanding when he likes it so much. His teasing does more to turn you on than you'd care to admit and he can tell with the way you gush around him.

"One of em's your date." He adds, laughing slightly as he curls his tongue inside you. Entranced at the way it makes you whimper and writhe like putty under him. He starts rubbing your clit with his thumb at the same time, chasing the crest of your orgasm. "C'mon, baby. Give it to me. Come all over my tongue." 

Your release makes your back rise off of the slab of cement you're seated on, thighs slotted over Rafe's shoulders as he licks you through your climax.

The pleasure is insurmountable, your mouth falling open and your eyes screwing shut as that familiar feeling completely overwhelms your senses, the burn of your elbows against the cement keeping you anchored to the ground. 

Rafe smiles when you pull him by the belt of his dress pants to capture his mouth in a long and sweet kiss. It helps clean up the residual wetness. 

By the time Kelce makes it your father's charity event, he sighs tiredly into the crown of Shelley's head, pressing a wet kiss there in greeting. On his way in, he got trapped in a conversation with your father and some guy he'd never seen before named Daniel who was more inclined to kiss your dad's ass than he was to breathe.

Finally taking his seat next to a very drunk Topper, he squints his eyes at the sight before him. You and Rafe, unable to keep your hands off each other, giggling at nothing in particular. And when not giggling, kissing.

"Are you seeing this shit?" Kelce asks Topper, gesturing towards his two closest friends shoving their tongues down each other's throats. Shamelessly, at that.

"Dude." Topper groans, sighing like this was no surprise to him. "Where the fuck have you been?"

a/n: thank you for reading! comments/reblogs appreciated!!

[colourstreakgryffin]

I saw you're taking Hazbin hotel requests so I thought I'd shoot my shot! So reader is a young boy who also died around Alastor's time(Early 1930s) . He's so confused and overwhelmed by how fast everything is progressing. So when he hears Alastor humming/singing a song from the 1930s he feels a sense of comfort and familiarity. Bonus if it also happens to be their favorite song! Take your time and you're amazing!

Oooh! Fourth Alastor request and I am having such a great time with this! This man is so fun to write for! After I finish here, I am gonna go cook some Jambalaya then pop it into my pentagram and summon Al so he can cook me!

Alastor- Night & Day

Like the beat, beat, beat of the tom tom…

when the jungle shadows fall

like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock

You don’t recognise anywhere you are… this place. It’s hot, dark, dangy and uncomfortable. There’s nothing here resembling Earth and it’s shaking you to your core. Not having the strength nor confidence to move anymore from the alleyway you were just dropped into upon arriving here from the pentagram in the dark sky. Everyone is too much for your young mind… well. Other than that best, those lyrics and that voice

As it stands against the wall

Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops

When the summer shower is through

So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you

That song is a symbol of comfort for you. Night & Day by Cole Porter. Something your mother use to sing to you every night before bed, the sound of pretty rain hitting your open window as that beautiful sweet woman would sing over and over again, all without it growing repetitive, until you fell asleep. Having wonderful dreams all the time

Even though you’re scared out of your mind, you begin to walk out to the streets. Packed to the brim with all kinds of weird-shaped adults but you avoid most of the them, weaving through this thick crowd to find the source of the soothing lullaby of your whole life and the voice singing it. It sounds dapper, transatlantic, if not an old radio. Is it coming from a radio?

Night and day, you are the one

Only you beneath the moon or under the sun

Whether near to me, or far

It's no matter, darling, where you are

I think of you

It felt like a game of cat and mouse. Running around to find where that wonderful singing is coming from and it feels like the person is constantly teleporting, no adult should be this frustrating to find. Or, you’re just too overwhelmed from being dropped into literal Hell to even realise your coordination skills are as dropping as you did. Your mind is racing to come to terms with what’s going on

This isn’t New Orleans at all… and not a single trace of your parents around. Are you alone? No. No. You don’t want to be alone, you’re too young to be alone. Is everybody here too evil to care about a literal child Sinner being stuck on his own and having to fend for himself in ways he doesn’t know how to…

By all the unholy gods. Somebody help

Day and night, night and day, why is it so

That this longing for you follows wherever I go

In the roaring traffic's boom

In the silence of my lonely room

I think of you

The loud noises of talking, of the wall of built-in weird flat devices screeching and echoing, the patter of footsteps. It makes you want to hide away and sleep to try shake off all the distress and overwhelming feelings you are being tormented with but that song is way too recognisable and comforting for you to ignore so you just keep pursuing it

Maybe, it’ll be pointless and the singing source will be from a Radio of your year but it almost feels like the song is organic and from a person. That means there is an adult of your time here. A man from the 1930s, Hell, he may be somebody of your family! That’d be wonderful and your hopes are high that when you do find the source, it’s somebody you’ll get to embrace and talk to

Day and night, night and day

Under the hide of me

There's an oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me

And this torment won't be through

Until you let me spend my life spreading love

A flash of bright red crossed your eyes when you finally had managed to shakily but stubbornly and determined, pasted through the big careless and if not almost hypnotised by the running TVs crowd, and continued down the road in half sprints. Following a array of melodically humming, recreating the beat and rhythm of the song as it seems the source is quite invested in such a song

It felt like forever following a mere sound across the city’s streets but there he is. The source of the singing, he’s so close that you can finally reach a arm out and take his hand to catch his attention

Day and night, night and day—

The man instantly mutes his singing. He is tall, in a nice fancy coat with long hems at the bottoms, with a pair of what seemed to be tall deer ears on the top of his head and his pale face branded with a permanent toothy grin, he looked both menacing but yet friendly. Turning around to face the nine-year-old Sinner running around the Pride Ring’s own Pentagram City’s streets to chase the source of a song of familiarity and now has chased and caught his hand, Alastor reacted rather friendly and understanding to be presented with a child of his own era

Leaning down to be kneel before this young confused on-the-verge-of-crying boy, the Radio Demon says smooth and curious with that same radio effect almost overlapping his charming transatlantic accent, placing his free hand on your little shoulder

Something about Alastor reminded you of a popular figure from New Orleans you’ve met before

“Greetings there, young man… tell me, where are your parents?”

[kalims]

kiss your best friend | ignihyde

kiss your best friend and see how they react!

parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven

characters. idia, ortho

content. gender neutral reader as usual, platonic for the bby, wingman ortho at it again, forgot about this ngl

note. sorry guys idia's part was messy but I mean, I'm just portraying his chaotic feelings ig. I SWEAR ORTHO'S PART MAKES UP FOR IT SINCE HES THE CALMER ONE

damn part six finally hear after almost a year (I'm so sorry help)

idia

is having the fastest inner monolog you will ever hear in your life, if it was being read out loud that is. could be nominated as rapper of the year with how fast he's blurting out thoughts in his mind.

also probably vocals of the year too with how high pitched, and small in range it is. what a versatile king 🔥

'anywaysitooklike10yearstryingtofindthisitemcausetheysaidtheysawitbutohmygodwhatinthethreehellsishappeningOMGaretheykissingmechatamidreamingOMGimnot??WHAT WARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA'

to make your life easier 'anyways it took like ten years trying to find this item cause they said they saw it but oh my god what in the three hells is happening OMG are they kissing me chat am I dreaming OMG I'm not??? WHAT *incoherent screeching.'

probably has never kissed anyone besides his body pillows which is just one sided making out so completely forgets his 'lessons on teaching himself how to kiss' and freezes up. comically gets goosebumps and remains frozen even after you pull away.

then starts turning red from feet to head??

he has so many questions that he in fact, does NOT want to ask cause even if it cost his life he can't question you if you guys are dating now cause YOU JUST KISSED HIM SO THAT MEANS YOU BOTH UPGRADE LEVELS.

wait he can't call it friendship level. clearly you're both past level 10 now right?? INTIMACY LEVEL???? HE DOESNT KNOW HES PANICKING.

is too awkward to ask and acts even more awkward as the time is more prolong during the time he's just left wondering what the hell you guys are now cause he's too pussy to do anything without confirmation that you're both duos for life now.

ortho

is the one idia rants to about his predicament right after you part ways.

like, idia doesn't even try to call or contact ortho through the means of technology even if it meant getting to talk faster. he's BOLTING to the dorm with his unathletic ass (with breaks in between.) because the tea he was going to spill was that good.

listens intently and goes :O when idia finally mentions the part where you randomly kiss him out of the blue, by the way only getting to the point after idia spills.. umm.. the wrong thing to be honest, literally retold the whole day until that point.

yeahhhh.. he has the energy atleast.

idia is probably telling ortho about how it meant nothing even though you literally outright kissed him, to the cheek, mouth, or something and he's still gonna say it didn't mean anything.

ortho gotta be the one telling idia to make the move cause no idiot would mistake that for nothing (except idia apparently but he'll have everyone know that his brother is a tech genius!!)

they both do one of those scenes in movies where P1 - idia, is talking to you in real life with an earpiece, and P2 - ortho is said person behind the earpiece. basically the one telling idia what he should do because that guy is too lost for his own good.

"brother move closer!"

"... isn't this too close already though--" <- embarrassed and regretting everything

in the end he did manage to get a label on the two of you, no thanks to HIM and all the thanks to ortho <3

note. ortho's part just ended up as an extension of idia's part but I always love to include him in everything :') just some behind the scenes on how idia actually got a relationship (ITS ALL ORTHO)

not pr, who prs anyways cries

[beautiful-is-boring]

Made it out alive, just for you

Gojo x gn!reader , angst to fluff, hurt/comfort

Au where gojo lives

Warning: y/n has a nightmare about gojo, MAJOR JJK MANGA SPOILERS FOR CH 236, so ya it involves blood and a lil bit of gore, and crying.

A/n: i love this man so so much, and whenever I get a bad dream about my loved ones dying, it mostly includes the part after their death and I'm living without them, and when I wake up it's such a relief, so this fic is based on that

----------

'i miss you so much toru'

the scene never left your head, the love of your life, now lifeless, laid on the ground, wounded and dying after the fight with sukuna

you cried all day, the next day and the next. You couldn't let go of him, and how could you? Satoru was the shining sun in your life. He had the brightest smile, the prettiest baby blue eyes, the strongest will and his love for you was endless. You loved him so so much.

Coming home everyday from work pained you. You would forget that he wasn't here anymore, you would buy mochi on the way home, only to come home and realize he was never coming back, the reality settling in as you cried once more.

'please come back toru, i can't do this without you'

you eat dinner alone again, hugging the adorable custom made plushie of satoru. It was a gift from him. He lovingly said that day, that the plushie would keep you company when he was not with you.

The memory of gojo cut and bloodied plagued your mind and you hugged the plushie tighter

'you are bigger than the whole sky toru, the strongest and bravest of them all. Wherever you are, I hope you rest well. Watch over me, my love'

And then your eyes opened.

You sat up on the bed quickly, looking around everywhere and breathing heavily, just trying to ground yourself into reality.

It was just a dream. A bad one, but just a dream. You're fully awake by now.

"breathe for me sweetheart"

"T-toru?"

He was right there, your beautiful satoru, gently hugging your shaking body close to him.

"whatever you saw, it wasn't real. I'm here now baby"

You nod. Your mind was a mess. You barely remember what you saw, but it left you feeling terrified.

"Hang in there, I'll get you some water"

He slowly left your shared bedroom and you watched the white tuft of hair disappear into the kitchen. Waking up after countless bad dreams and nightmares was unfortunately common for the both of you, after the fight with sukuna in shibuya.

Right. Gojo defeated sukuna. He won. And he made it out alive.

Your eyes landed upon the custom plushie across the room that gojo gifted you all those years ago

The same one from your dream.

The dam broke. A quiet whimper left your lips as memories of the dream flashed through your mind's eye and by the time satoru returned, you were curled up on your side of the bed, sniffling and weeping.

You heard him place the glass of water on the nightstand, and in the next second he's got you enveloped in his warm arms, gently rubbing your back.

"I-I saw you die toru..I had to live without you and I had to c-come home and you weren't there, a-and you were never coming back" You were sobbing and crying as you hugged him, both from the unsettling dream, and the relief that it wasn't real. You were so, so relieved to be awake, to find your one and only alive and well. Satoru continued to whisper sweet nothings and comforting words into your ears and never once did he loosen up his hold on your trembling frame.

"its okay baby, i know how you feel, and i love you so much, and I'm right here" His sweet and gentle tone combined with his comforting voice made you cry even harder. You didn't know where the tears were coming from.

"i know toru, i know you won, it's just that ever since I saw you like that..." You take a deep breath in and gaze into his beautiful blue orbs that you love. "Just one wrong move, and you would have been gone and i-i don't know what I would do without you being there with me."

Satoru's own eyes welled up with tears because he couldn't bear to see you cry. He cupped your face in his arms, a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he saw you closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

"you are my whole world y/n" His voice wasn't louder than a whisper. Satoru wiped your tears with the pads of his fingers, and kissed your forehead. "That day, I was thinking about you the whole time. I knew I had to come back to you, and I did." A single tear drop trailed down his face and he stroked your head to comfort you. " You don't have to worry anymore, my love. It's all over, and I'm here right here, right now. " You looked at him, reassured and he could feel his heart swell as he looked at his world, his universe, right there in his hands. "Thankyou satoru" He smiled, and you did too.

Satoru leant in and kissed you ever so slowly, reminding you that he was right there with you, alive. You both smiled into the kiss, knowing that you love each other with every fiber of your being and most importantly,

You were right there with each other; physically, and in each other's hearts.

[mxtantrights]

i wonder if u have any headcanons abt how boxer!jason would propose to his s/o… i feel like any version of jason would keep things intimate and romantic instead of public and flashy lol

He lies this once. ONCE. he has to get you to the bookstore where the two of you met. You're not really understanding why boxer!Jason wants to get you out of your very comfortable home when it's raining outside, and it's sticky hot.

But you decide to indulge him. He never does this. He never insists that two of you have to be somewhere. Usually he's the one canceling plans. He doesn't mind not being a no show when it comes to hanging out with you.

He tells you to wear anything. Which doesn't raise your suspicions at all. He does it on purpose. If he had told you to wear something nice he knows you would have caught on. And he's still glad that your nails are still fresh from that spa time you took about a week ago.

He takes his car, and his hand is on your thigh like usual though the whole ride. You play with his hand as you watch the cars go by. You might even doze off a little bit. He finds it terribly cute.

When you do finally arrive you turn to him, and ask him if he wanted you to go shopping for books. And he hums an answers but you're still not suspicious.

He holds an umbrella over your head, letting himself get a bit wet, and guides you into the bookstore. The lights are on but there is no one inside. You can't hear the usual customers or employees.

boxer!Jason takes your hand and leads you over to the specific section he ran into you in. Of course he knows this, he's memorized the exact spot the two of you first met.

It's there that you see the led candles and the string up paper cranes and flowers. You look around in wonder before you look over at boxer!Jason.

boxer!Jason who has never been on his knees in a fight. He's loosed before but he's never lost on his knees. The only time you've seen him on his knees is when he ties your shoes, or you know those other times when you haven't got any shoes on or clothes for that matter...

So you see him on his knees now and your eyes go wide. boxer!Jason smiles as he reaches into his pocket.

"You don't know how hard it was to get you out of the house for this without making you suspicious." he jokes.

You laugh and you can feel your eye beginning to water, "Jason,"

"You already make me unbelievably and profoundly happy. I didn't expect that-I didn't expect you. But you choose me every day and I wanted to show you that I want to do the same. For the rest of my life. If you'll have me." he declares.

"Shut the fuck up!" you gasp.

boxer!Jason laughs, knowing that your'e only cursing because of how nervous you're getting. It's your reflex, he's come to understand it now. Your curse when your team loses. You cursed when you got good news.

"Is that a yes?" he asks.

"It's a hell fuckin' yes baby, oh my god!" you shout.

You run to him and basically tackle him to the ground. He breaks your fall as you pepper kisses all over his face. He laughs between every single one.

"I didn't even get to show you the ring." he says.

"You can show me later. Is there anyone in here besides us?" you ask.

You press kisses on his jawline. boxer!Jason lets out a chuckle and runs his hands down your back.

Jason shakes his head, "I rented it out."

"What about the door?" you ask.

"Locked it as we came in." he answers.

You pull away from him. Just straddling him now, a full blown lovestruck look on your face. boxer!Jason is trying his best not to turn a new shade of red.

"You're my dream come true, you know that?" you ask.

"Thank you for allowing me to find mine too." he smiles.

a/n: ANON thank you so much much much for sending this in!! it reminded me of writing the proposal for the famous!dc au for Jason. This is a bit different but still as sweet to me <33 hope you like

[fuzzythoughtsblog]

A fantasy I had based on a fan fiction I read :

I begin to wake up. I feel groggy as push myself from my bed. Except I couldn't for some reason and then I look up and my hands are cuffed to my bed. Except it's not my bed it's someone else, I quickly look around the room for some kinda indication of where I am. Theirs nothing thats familiar. The room is pained a light purple with fluffy fixtures everywhere and nice tv but no windows, only a fake projection of one. As I look around I recognize some stuff bits of my things placed neatly around the room. When I shift around I start to hear foot steps. I try to wiggle out of the cuffs before the door opens but its no use. A woman walks through the door with a soft smile on her face.

"Hello, love. Did you sleep well? I made sure to have everything how you like it down to rain sounds. "

I pause and realize there is a sound machine playing rain sounds just like the one I have at home.

The lady continues " I hope the cuffs weren't to tight, once we get you your ankle bracelet we won't have to fiddle with those things. "

I stare at her for a moment before asking where I was and how I got here. Some how very calm about the matter.

"Oh that's right you wouldn't remember. Well this is your home, not just this room of course you're free to explore the whole house once your ankle bracelet comes in. For now you stay here; but don't worry I'll keep you company. As for how you got here well you were at your old home and I put something in your glass of water to make you extra sleepy. Sorry it was just a formality and I won't do it again. "

As she talked the panic began to set in. I ask her why she did this.

With a smile she begins to play with my hair. "I love you, for a long time now. I know you don't remember but I used to see you after middle school walking to your house. I think the first time I saw you I knew this was it. As the years went by you confirmed to me that this is it. Watching your highs and lows have been truly beautiful. I knew I must have you in my life but, I don't want to share you anymore. You know you sleep beautifully, I mean I've seen it before but this is my first time seeing you sleep up close and personal. What were you dreaming about? "

I can't even take it all in, this lady I've never seen before is making all these claims and I'm strapped to her bed. I then look down to see I'm in pink lace lingerie. I freeze and she notices.

"Oh yes, I thought you'd look lovely in these and you do honestly. " she says as she drags a hand up my body.

"Your just so pretty. " she says as she leans in and begins to kiss my neck. At this I snap at her to stop and to uncuff me. She sighs and begins to nibble on my skin.

"Bear with me love, I must learn your body. " I shake my head as she shows no signs of stopping. I tell her someone is looking for me. "And may they never find our home" she breathes into my skin like hymn. She then moves on from my neck to my shoulders leaving long kisses on them. She then begins to trace my collar bone with her finger ever so gently. Upon tracing it she moves here mouth to the top of my chest. In to my skin she whispers "Allow me to take my time little dove, I want to savior this for both of us".

I try to pull away as she sucks dark marks into my skin ending the ministration with a small kiss. For a moment she leans off of me to admire her work. She let's out a moan as she looks. " Your breath taking. I've had only a little and I crave more. " I begin to lightly sob as she takes a nipple in her mouth sucking it through the lace. It feels disgustingly good. Everything in me is screaming to reject the pleasure, but my body won't listen. I let out a soft moan causing her to stop and look up at me.

"Little dove. " she says as she begins to kiss me on the mouth despite me backing away from it. She continues until a headbutt her mid kiss. She grips her head, but it seems my resistance only spures her on more. As she cups my face with her hands this time and she takes another kiss. And then she goes back to nipples this time nibbling at the other. She then looks up at me as she sucks the already sensitive bud. I accidentally let out a whine as it's just too sensitive.

Which sends a shiver down her spine. She lowers her head to my stomach before continuing to kiss it and litter the skin with little marks. She then traces the more sensitive skin with her tongue. As she goes lower I feel something hot grow in the pit my stomach. Especially as she gets to where my pelvis and my stomach meet. Nibbling on the line between the two. Unexpectedly she then moves over to the top part of my thighs. The bit of pudge that peeks over the lace stocking. Before going on she looks up at me again.

"Your delicious my love, I don't know how I have claimed to live before I tasted your skin. " after she sinks her teeth in to the pudge a action that causes me to yelp as its unlike every thing she did before. Of course she watches me as she does the same thing to the other side. As she released the meat from her teeth she then uses them to bite the edge of stocking before pulling them down and off. She does the same to the other side before returning to the first and laying a kiss on the knee she then bites around on the lower part of my thigh take her time to leave more dark marks. She ends it by laying several light kisses on my ankle. Before for repeating the same action on the other leg as she presses the last kiss into my ankle she breathes a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry dove, I don't mean to be a tease I've just been dreaming of this for so long. Longer than you could know. " she says placing her head near my crotch as I shift away. She simply holds my hips before placing a kiss on my clothed pussy. She then begins to suck and lick through the panties. All while starring at me watching every quiver and gasp. She begins to pay attention more to my clit as I whine and with shaking hands she removes the panties and just stares at my cunt for a minute or two. I hear her moans the words "fucking gorgeous".

Before ducking back down and tasting me from the source. I feel as she moans against me and grinds into my legs as she takes my clit into her mouth causing me to shake and shrink away. "Don't, run away from me baby. Hear me, never again. " she says eyes very serious. She then leans in and starts slowly pressing her tongue into me. Rubbing my clit as she does. She then holds my thighs as she goes deeper, fucking me on her tongue. She eats me out with focus and dedication for what feels like hours before pressing a finger in along with her tongue. The two move in sync as she loosen me before adding another finger and after time another. Until I'm crying on 3 of her fingers and a tongue.

She then pulls out and grabs something from the night stand. I look as she pulls down her pants to reveal a throbbing cock. She then squirts some lube onto it and my cunt before pumping it in her hand. There is absolutely no way she wants me to take all that. But as I look in disbelief she lines her cock up with my cunt but before she presses in. I say wait what about protection. She looks up at me with a soft smile "It's okay, I'm the only one that's going to be taking you for now on so we don't have to worry about that. "but before I can exclaim that it's not okay she sinks in.

With a breathy "Fuck" and fuck is right her cock is thick and just keeps going as she sinks into me as I whine and squirm. It takes a minute before our pelvises kiss but as they do she let's out long and loud whine. And I just stare at her, she fucking came inside of me, she came inside of me with no protection. What if I ... I begin to really sob as that thought crossed my mind. She on the other hand is still with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry love, it's just been so long. But don't worry I can keep going. " she says before sliding out and slamming back in. Causing my head to fall back. "See, I can give you pleasure too." She says voice still breathy as she pounds into me. The room begins to fill with the filthy noise and whines. I want to run away but theres nowhere to go. I just have to lye their and take it as she fucks her cum back into me with haste. She continues to thrust as she sucks more marks onto my neck and under my jaw. Then the worst begins as I feel my body try to tense up. Absolutely not, I tell myself but she seems to notice as she begins fucking speeding up and rubbing my clit. "Good ahead cum for me love, make a pretty mess of yourself. " I shake my head in refusal. This is not about to happen I'm not going to cum on her cock I refuse.

"Baby please stop being so stubborn, just do it it'll feel so good. " I keep starving it off despite her words until she wraps her mouth around my clit while still pounding . Sending me tumbling over the edge hard without out any way to catch myself. I close my eyes hard and begin to shake. It feels like an eternity and when I finally am able to open my eyes I hear a low ringing and my body is still tingling as she is still fucking me through it before cuming again even deeper this time. I feel tears continue to roll down my cheeks as she pulls out and her cum drips down my legs. As I stare at the ceiling completely stund I hear her whisper

"Welcome home, little dove! "

[two-white-butterflies]

violets for roses | c16

Description: Charles breaks up with you in search for higher ground. Where he realizes that he needs you beside him in order to truly win.

Pairing: charles leclerc/neurosurgeon!reader

Rating: Teen [jealousy, angst]

When he told you that he needed space - you gave it to him willingly, without any doubts or questions - because you knew deep inside that he'd come crawling back - that you couldn't live without each other. But when he wanted to make that space permanent? It caught you off guard.

"What do you mean?" you could feel your throat threaten to leak green bile. He seemed calm and composed from the other side of the call - a complete opposite of you. "I don't think that we're going to work in the long term, bebe." he dare used a nickname.

A small shudder escaped your lips.

"I don't understand," you shook your head - playing with the bracelet that he gifted you. "I want to focus on the championship." he began to explain his side of the story, but you couldn't help interrupt him. "Are you calling me a distraction?" you bite your lower lip.

You felt stupid.

Stupid because you weren't aware of his feelings. Unaware of the storm that was brewing inside of his mind. "I'm calling myself easily distracted," he defended you - knowing that half of his heart still belonged to the woman inside of you. "I-I think you're too good for me. You deserve someone who can stand beside you - hold your hand through accomplishments. That's not me." he prefaced.

While you were saving lives - he was toying with his own.

"Look at the future, bebe. Can you see a person who's barely there? I know you - I know that you want to be perfect. You dream about those white fences, a four bedroom house, kids that go to school - I can't give you that." he persuaded you, knowing deep inside his heart that he could give you that.

He could give you the family that you wanted - but he wanted to fix his life first. He wanted to make a name for himself.

"Well, there's no use in trying to force you to do something." you hum, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

"Goodbye, Leclerc." you hang up.

Charles_Leclerc: A single picture, yet it gives me a million emotions. I enjoyed being with you. I enjoyed drinking martinis by the beach and rolling down the sand dunes in Dubai. I enjoyed dancing in Ibiza, and singing down the streets of Los Angeles. I had fun, and I loved you - but good things must come to an end. Thank you, doctora. ❤️

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dr_yn_official: I'll be getting over you, my whole life. Merci du fond du coeur. @Charles_Leclerc

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CHARLES LECLERC AND GIRLFRIEND'S BREAKUP TO MATTY HEALY AND TAYLOR SWIFT SPLIT. (by deuxmoi)

Deuxmoi: Now I got this from one of his girlfriend's close friend, that Charles wanted to focus on the championship while she wanted to focus more on their relationship. A few months before their public breakup, they had a little break (now they didn't specify how long the 'break' lasted but they broke up officially before they got back together).

Unknown: That's shitty, because isn't Charles 25? He's old enough to know that a person should focus on what their girlfriend needs.

Deuxmoi: Yeah! And apparently, he was very 'fuck off' manner and he was all about himself. He was always talking about what he wanted and what he needed.

Unknown: Oh my god!

Deuxmoi: Now I'm gonna start this off by saying that I'm not taking any sides, but my source told me that Y/N was bending over backwards to provide what he needed and wanted. At the end (he spoke up about their faults by phone call by the way) - at the end she just went 'alright i don't wanna make our relationship a favor to you' and broke up with him.

Unknown: She broke up with him?

Deuxmoi: Yes, she did.

"Are you alright?" your co-worker places a hand on your shoulder, seeing that you weren't able to finish the surgery. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stepped into the OR knowing that I'm like this." you sigh, leaning into the cold metal chair. You've seen the tweets about you. You've seen the hashtags on twitter. It wasn't helping.

"It's okay, you're the best surgeon in the hospital - and Dr. Alawi has finished the operation. No harm done - but I will be telling HR." the nurse warns you, and you answer with a nod. Fair is fair. "It's just hard getting over a breakup," you admit - wiping the sweat off your forehead. " -especially when it's with someone I see a future with."

She sits down beside you, offering a bottle of water.

"I don't want to ask anything personal, but if you need someone. I'll be here to help you - I'm sure that you'll see someone better." she comforted. "Lots of fish in the sea." she joked, earning a small laugh.

She glances at you - seeing the sad look on your face.

"Guess what," she smiled and you turned to look at her. "What?" you inquired - watching her open her phone. "You should go on a date, something that'll take your mind off him." she offered, showing you a picture of her cousin. "He's also a neurosurgeon. Dr. Pritchett, you'll love him." she smiled, browsing through his instagram posts.

A sigh escapes your mouth. Anything to get rid of Charles.

"Give me the date, I'll be there." you tell her, and she begins typing on her phone - presumably messaging the man.

The friendship between you and Dr. Pritchett grew with every event that he invited you to join. Soon enough, you find yourself tolerating his company - often leaning into his touch willingly.

"This institution was founded by my grandfather, Mr. Patel. It's helped so much patients that suffer from brain related diseases. I can't imagine a Monaco without it." your date boasted, touring the entire crowd around the tapestries hung around the hospital.

"The number of sponsors and volunteers grow with every month, now thanks to Formula One collaborating with us - we help a lot more people." he chuckled, hands rubbing comforting circles on your back - you almost forgot that your ex-boyfriend was in the crowd.

"It's beautiful here, I didn't expect it to be a hospital." Toto complimented, taking a slow sip of his champagne. He was one of the hospital's biggest donator. Truly, a nice guy. "We wanted it to feel like home." you add - showing them around the new building.

Your eyes trail towards the man beside him - Charles Leclerc.

"It feels like that," he hummed - a small frown on his face. You were getting on his nerves now - and so was the man beside you. "Most of our patients are children, the adults are in the other wing." Dr. Pritchett added, glancing at you. "We tried to make it as colorful as possible, but it's a hospital - decorum is needed." you hum, fingers dancing along the rim of your glass.

Why couldn't you stop thinking about him?

officialyour_name: the annual st. luke's gala. thank you so much to @formulaone and @scuderiaferrari for sponsoring tonight's event. also to the f1 grid who are in full attendance!

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Charles had a lot of guts marching towards you.

"Hey," he breathed seeing that sad pout on your face. "Hey," you smiled at him - surprised to see him walking towards you with such bravery. Didn't he walk out of the door a few months ago?

"You're in a new relationship, huh?" he chuckled bitterly, sitting down on the wooden chair beside you. "Well, it's not a relationship - it's more of a friendship." you admit, doctors and formula one drivers have a lot in common - they both didn't have time for relationships.

Dr. Pritchett saw you as eye-candy. Something to pass time around.

"That relaxes me a bit," he hummed - letting the alcohol take full control of the situation. "I regret breaking up with you, to be honest." he scratched his nose, fearing your response. "Charles, don't." you warn him a disapproving stare.

You already learned from the past - you already let go of your wings in order to fly. He didn't have the right to take that away. He didn't have the right to take away your independence.

"I can't stop thinking about you, and I want to get back - together, bebe." he used the same term of endearment, waiting patiently for your reply. "You can't be serious," you scoff - feeling the eyes on you.

"I'll give you time, but you know how to find me." he stood up.

and you'll always find him.

(ONE YEAR LATER)

officialyour_name: never thought i'd be sharing a candid shot, but here we are ❤️

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"I can never seem to get rid of you," you chuckle - laying on the sand and watching him attempt to make a sand-castle. It's been six months since you last gave him a chance. Twelve months since that fateful gala. You've never been happier. "Well, you're jealous because my sand castles are beautiful." he boasted, filling it with water.

"Sure, bebe." you teased.

He's changed a lot. He's more honest with his feelings. He talks to you about his problems - instead of keeping it to himself.

He wasn't a good boyfriend before - but he was a great boyfriend now.

Charles_Leclerc: We gave it a bit of thinking, and we realized that we look better together. I realized that I'm better with her. Cheers to dancing in Ibiza, singing down L.A, slipping down Dubai, and drinking Martinis by the beach. @officialyour_name

248 comments 724,192 likes

soldforparts12: YES! I KNEW THAT THIS WOULD HAPPEN

officialyour_name: I LOVE YOU

officialyour_name: We look better in RED. Missed you, drama king.

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[thyrinea]

Till - An Alien Stage analysis

Vivinos just dropped the teaser for Round 6. And after watching it a couple of times, I feel like I can finally understand why people were telling that this round is potentially the most emotional one yet. So here are my thought about Till as a character, and what we might expect from him in the upcoming Round. But before you go on and start reading, I want to make two quick disclaimers:

My native language is not english and sometimes I might make some mistakes, and I'm sorry for that. I'll try to make everything as cohesive as possible on this post so we don't have any miscommunication.

In the analysis, there will be a small mention of suicidal thoughts and a whole section on human experiments. If you're uncomfortable with those topics, please don't continue.

If you're ok with everything, thank you for continuing and I hope you have a good read! (Also, if you want to add something please feel free to chat with me! I love to see more theories and takes on everything)

Let's start this analysis from the very beginning, or at least the first event that we know of in regard of Till: his time at the adoption center.

(Timestamp: 00:22 - 00:24 - Teaser)

From what I gathered, this scene was first seen as a sneak peek from Vivinos' patreon and it's most likely one of, if not the very first time both of them - Till and Ivan - has seen each other. As a "troubled" kid, it's dificult to catch the eyes of someone and make them willing to have you, and seeing the discounts placed on his captivity window, we can only assume that he stayed in the adoption center for quite a while now. It's no wonder that Till is watching with awe as Ivan is being escorted away: he probably got adopted and is leaving the establishment to live somewhere else, leaving the rest only to hope to be the next chosen one. We all know that in reality, being adopted by the aliens is not a synonym to having a good life in this scenario. But for a child who has been locked in this tiny room for possibly weeks, still not knowing how society works for them, it's a dream to finally be able to get out and possibly be loved by their adopted "family". So imagine Till finally getting out of this place, after all he went through there - being rejected, seen as an unwanted individual - only to get trapped in an even worse scenario: Being used as a human experiment.

(Timestamp: 00:06, 00:11, 00:16, 00:19 - Teaser)

We can see those images are depicting something that happened after the adoption center because he's older now. We don't know how much time he had to experience those events, but if we go back to Round 2, there are some instances where he is far younger and can be seen with green stickers similar to the ones on his neck shown in the 4th image. Not only that, even on his performance on Round 2, we can see them on display. So there is a chance that he had to deal with all of this for years. Yes, he was not alone during everything, but we don't know what happened to everyone who was in this same scenario. All we know is that the faces seen on the panel during the teaser, was never once seen again.

(Timestamp: 00:19 - Teaser)

It even seems that one has perished in one of the images shown in the teaser. For all we know, everyone but Till might be dead by the time Alien Stage begins for the main cast... And living in fear not knowing if you're going to be the next one to die during an experiment is a really terrifying reality he probably had to face. And yet, during all that, he even had to go to Anakt garden to train to become a singer, and possibly go to Alien stage.

(Timestamp: 00:57 - Round 2)

At least, somewhere around his time on Anakt garden, he found something worth living for: Mizi. She became his beacon of light. We don't know what happened but knowing Mizi's character, she has probably shown him what happiness looks like, maybe became the first one to interact with him and show him he's someone. Not a product, not an experiment, but an individual. And he really wanted to continue having this feeling again. To be happy, just like her, with her. This admiration that flourished from him is most likely what made this crush Till has for her blossom. It's kind of an unhealthy dependancy if we put the spotlight on this relationship, he would even go as far as refuse to escape from everything with ivan - who is shown to be the only other person who interacts with him, that he considers a friend - and have freedom if she's not present. It's as if he doesn't know if he can truly be happy if she's not around. I'll make another analysis on Ivan and Till's relationship on the kindergarden once Round 6 goes live. Trust me, if I start talking about them here, I would literally not shut up and the analysis would have another 1000 words. But for now I really want to emphasize how both are seen as "weirdos", and started talking more because they really only had each other. Despite the differences and the bickering, Till holds Ivan close to him as well.

(Timestamp: 00:19 - Teaser)

And now, We're on Round 6: Where Till has nothing to fight for. His whole life was purely a tragedy - he had seen and experienced some of the worst things that a human could go through in this world, and despite trying his best to fight against all odds, he's back on square one. He's been defeated. Mizi is missing, and in his eyes, possibly dead. And now he is going against his childhood friend, literally the only person he has left, on a battle where he knows and only one will get out alive. I won't be surprised if in the beginning he'll be willing to sacrifice himself for Ivan to win and live. Through the whole teaser, the voice singing in the background is muffled. Till is so out of it that he's not able to realize what's going on, even the shots he's in is in pure black, as if nothing around him matters anymore to him. That is, until the voice in the end gets clearer and we can finally see the stage for the Round. Can't wait to see what we have in store on April 5th. My theory is that this might be a 2 pov video, and later we'll get to know more about Ivan's take on everything. Specially because finally he might be able to make Till see him for once. Who's going to die? I hope no one. But we're talking about Vivinos... We can expect anything on this project. All I know is that I might die if we get some parallel to the meteor shower scene shown in black sorrow.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

No One Here Is Alone

Elks Chapter 2 Version 2.0

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Chapter Rating: T. (Nothing explicit for the first few chapters.) Chapter Summary: The man you've had a crush on since he showed up to Jackson just so happens to be your favorite student's caretaker.. and he just saw you do a brutal face plant in front of his home. Chapter Warnings: soft jackson joel, rumors still spread in the apocalypse, 2000's indie rock, interrupted sweet moment, cats in windows, there was only one umbrella, romance, Joel Miller making dinner, thigh paint, knee pillow Words: 4,500 Header courtesy of @saradika-graphics

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist Playlist

*** “Radio Cure” by Wilco. 

It's Monday evening, and you're standing nervously in front of Joel’s house, clutching your messenger bag brimming with art supplies. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, before giving the door three quick knocks.

Joel opens the door with a warm smile. “Hi, come on in.”

“Hey,” you reply, trying to keep your smile under control.

"Let me show you the room."

Joel leads you into his home to a makeshift studio just off the living room filled with various wood workings, half carved animals, shelves of tools, and a long work table. You'd never expect it, but Joel is an artist.

You love the space, it's so open and warm. Lived in and utilized, you're happy places like this can still exist in other people's homes. 

Your eyes fall on a couple of old guitars leaning against a wall.

“You play?” You ask, nodding towards them.

“Been playing almost my whole life. You?”

“Same, my guitar broke a few weeks ago,” you say with a hint of sadness. “There’s a big hole in the side now.”

“That’s rough. Your stereo and your guitar?”

“Afraid so. It’s very quiet in my home.”

“Those guitars are broken over there, but I just haven’t gotten around to fixing ‘em, I’m sure I could easily repair one for you.” 

“Joel, you— that’s very nice,” you say, touched but hesitant. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

“No, s’okay, I like fixing things,” he insists with a reassuring smile. 

“Wish I could fix things,” you say with a nervous chuckle. “By the time I would be done, it’d be a pile of sawdust.”

A huff of air releases out of Joel’s mouth, his smile makes a dimple you’ve never noticed before appear. God, he’s gorgeous. “You’re funny. I can see why Ellie likes you.”

Heat creeps up your chest and settles into your cheeks. “So, Where would you like me to draw the mural?” you ask, using your question as a way to cut through the nervousness inside you. 

“Was thinking over on this wall with the window. I can see it from my chair in the living room.” 

You turn to examine the large, empty wall. You’re not sure if the cream hue is the original paint color or colored that way from age. It’s a perfect canvas.

“Good choice.” you say. “Do you want the whole wall?”

“The whole wall.”

“Just bluebells?” you clarify.

“Just bluebells.”

“Perfect.”

You pull the pencil from the chest pocket of your overalls, gently pressing it against the wall to sketch out the first bluebell. You can feel his eyes on you, his large body crowding the space behind you. You try to focus on your drawing, blocking out the sound of his breathing and the heat of his closeness.

Joel clears his throat. “I’ll just be in the kitchen making dinner. Did ya’ eat?”

“No,” you reply, glancing back at him. “But I can eat after I’m done here.”

“Have more than enough here for another person and Ellie’s at Dina’s tonight. You like pasta?”

“Of course I do,” you say with a smile. “I’d starve if I didn’t. Shelf stable.”

Joel chuckles, “I’ll be in the kitchen cooking. Just holler if you need anything. Help yourself to any of the supplies I have here.” You nod as Joel turns and strides down the hall.

“What a beautiful face, I have found in this place, That is circling all ‘round the sun, What a beautiful dream...”

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle as the music starts, breaking the hush that had settled in the room while you quietly sketched. For the past hour, the only sounds were Joel’s movements in the kitchen and the soft scratch of your pencil against the wall. Now, Joel is playing the mixed CD you had left there. Despite being all alone in his studio, you can’t help but grin. You tuck your pencil behind your ear and head to the kitchen to find Joel draining a pot of cooked pasta. 

You try not to stare at the way his biceps stretch the sleeves of his shirt or the way the steam floats into the air swirling around him, creating an almost dreamlike scene of domestic bliss.

“Neutral Milk Hotel,” you say from the doorway, rubbing your daisy pendant hanging against your neck.

“S’a pretty good song.” Joel replies, his gaze shifting from the pot to your pendant. 

“Thanks for putting it on, I missed hearing music.”

“When’d your player break?” Joel’s asks, his eyes still focused on your daisy pendant. 

“A little over a week ago. I lived without a stereo for close to fifteen years, all through my twenties in the QZ. My CD’s sat in a crate next to my bed all those years. I got used to them existing almost like photographs, circular snapshots of memories… silent and incapable of their original use,” you say, your voice trailing off as you remember.  “When I got here and walked into my house the first thing I saw was the small boombox on the shelf, I almost passed out when Maria told me it worked. It had to be repaired a few times and Gordon kept warning me that it wasn’t built to last. Took it to him the day after it broke for good and he let me know nothing could be done. I felt like I lost a limb.” 

“M’sorry,” Joel says as he begins to dish the pasta and sauce into two bowls.

“Thanks, I still have other things to fill up my time so it’s not as bad as I’m making it seem. I know it’s a luxury and I know I can live without it. It’s just… the noise kept me company, you know?” 

“I do,” Joel says, setting the bowls on the table, his eyes still locked on you. 

He watches you intently, as if he’s captivated by your presence. You’d be doing the same if you weren’t so nervous about him noticing. You sense Joel doesn’t care if you notice him watching.

You sit at his table, the orange glow of the sunset filters through the window, casting a soft light over everything. Coffee rings cover Joel’s wooden table top, a sign he probably never cleans up his mug until after he’s home in the evening. The smell of tomatoes, garlic, and onion from the bowl of pasta in front of you tantalizes you.

“This looks delicious,” you say, picking up your fork.

“Sauce was made by Maria, she takes pity on my kitchen skills and makes sure Ellie and I are well fed.” 

“She’s great,” you say through a bite. “So is Tommy.”

He nods in agreement. 

You both settle into a shared silence as you eat. 

A slow and haunting song begins to play, Joel looks up from his meal. “This is my favorite song on your CD.

“Cheer up, honey I hope you can,

There is something wrong with me,

My mind is filled with silvery stars”

“‘Radio Cure’ by Wilco.” you say, recognizing the song. “One of my favorite bands. My only CD of theirs is so scratched it no longer works… this is the only song I have now.” 

You lean back, closing your eyes, getting lost in the music, mouthing the lyrics silently. 

“S’beautiful,” Joel says softly as you open your eyes and find him watching you again. “...The song’s beautiful.”

Your heart skips a beat at the tenderness in his voice. So soft and deep, you wonder if he talks to anybody else this gently. 

“If you like it, keep my CD,” you offer. “You’ll get more use out of it than I will now.” 

“I’ll borrow it until you get a new CD player,” Joel says as he stands. “You’re welcome to come over and listen anytime. You can bring your other CD’s over if you want.”

“Really? I appreciate that,” your voice lifts with excitement.

“Glad to help.”

“I”m going to get back to drawing before it gets any darker,” you say, handing him your empty bowl. “I really enjoyed dinner, thank you.”

“Course,” he nods, taking the bowl from your hand and depositing it into the soapy water.

You return to the woodworking room, pick up your pencil, and continue delicately sketching flowers on his wall.

“It really, really, really could happen, Yes, it really, really, really could happen If the days they seem to fall through you Well, just let them go”

You hum along to your favorite Blur song, the eighth track on your CD.

“Did you want another light in here?” Joel’s deep voice startles you. You jump and turn to see him leaning against the doorway; you don’t know how long he’s been there. “S’getting dark in here.”

“Y-yeah, that would be great. I just want to finish up the first outline tonight.” 

Joel nods and heads over to the large cabinet in the corner, retrieving a work light as you turn back to your work. 

“This’ll help,” he says, grunting slightly as he bends over and plugs it in. “It’s lookin’ really nice so far.”

“Thanks,” you reply, still sketching. I love the process of beginning a large piece like this. It makes me so excited to think what it’ll look like when it’s all finished. Breaking it down into small steps, then seeing it all come together.”

“No wonder Ellie’s always so excited about art, when you put it all that way.” 

You nod without looking back at him, choosing to focus on your sketch.

“Just going to be in the living room reading my book. Lemme know if I can help,” he offers.

“Thanks.”

You hear him settle into his chair with a sigh. The chair he can sit in and look at your mural, the chair he can sit in and watch you work. Your insides twist as you feel like you’re being watched by him–you like it. 

You round each small petal making every flower perfect for Joel’s eyes.

Sometimes you hear a page turn in between tracks, sometimes you hear a sniff or a throat clear, you actually wish there wasn’t any music so you could only hear Joel.

“Okay,” you step back from the wall shaking out and stretching your overused hand and stretching your tired fingers. 

“Finished for the night?” Joel asks as he stands and walks into the room, eyes landing on the wall. “It’s really beautiful,” he says as he stares at your preliminary sketch.

“Thanks, there’s still a lot that has to be done, but I’m really happy with how it’s looking so far.” You back up to stand next to him. “When do you want me to come back?”

“I’ll be out on Patrol with Tommy until Wednesday night, Thursday work?”

“Thursday’s good. Same time?”

“Same time,” he confirms with a nod. “I’ll make dinner again.”

“You really don’t have to,” you reply, bending down to grab your bag.

“S’okay, I want to.” 

“Okay,” you say, stifling a yawn and blinking your tired eyes. 

Joel notices and grins slightly watching you. “Getting late for you, huh?” 

“Yeah, close to my bedtime,” you admit. 

He follows you to his door. “G’night,” he says, holding the door open. “See you Thursday.”

“Good luck on patrol,” you walk out the door and glance back at him, offering a small smile. “Good night.”

You feel Joel’s quiet, watchful gaze follow you as you leave his yard.  

Once you get home, you don’t bother changing out of your shirt when you crawl into bed. It smells like Joel’s home.

“Hey lady,” your friend Helen greets as she leans against the doorway of your classroom, interrupting your paper grading. 

You look up and give her a smile. “What’s up?”

“Thirsty Thursday at the Bison tomorrow, you in?” 

“Oh,” you pause, putting your pen down. “I can’t, I’m painting something for Joel Miller at his house.” 

Her eyebrows rise. “Joel Miller, Joel Miller?” 

“Yeah…” you nod.

She steps into your room, crossing her arms and smirks. “So, the rumors are true?”

“Rumors?” you ask.

“Grace said she saw you leaving his place late Monday night. Apparently, Joel stood and watched you walk home the whole way.”

You roll your eyes. “God this place is small, isn’t it?”

Helen laughs, her expression softening as she moves closer. “He nice to you?” Her protective side always shows when it comes to you. 

“I wouldn’t be doing this for him if he wasn’t.”

She nods. “Atta girl, I’ll leave you to it,” she knocks on your desk before leaving.

You’ve heard all of the rumors about Tommy Miller’s scary older brother. You’ve listened intently as people regaled tales of his violent past and whispered stories of his brutality. You heard the hush amongst the crowd whenever he’d walk into a room when he and Ellie first showed up. He’s supposedly a monster, and yet all you see are deep, soft brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles at you.

Thursday, you find yourself at Joel’s wearing your overalls again. Today, though, you’ve layered an oversized flannel for warmth, shielding yourself and your box of paints beneath an umbrella from the pouring rain. Before you can knock, Joel opens the door.

“Come in,” he says, grabbing your umbrella. “Was lookin’ for you so you didn’t get stuck in the rain.”

“Thanks, it’s awful out,” you reply, stepping inside and shrugging off your flannel. “How was patrol?” 

“Same as usual,” he says, taking your jacket and hanging it up on the hook over his coat.

“Well, that’s a good thing,” you say heading into his woodworking room and place your paints on the floor.

“That your book?” Joel nods to the faded black leather portfolio with tattered corners covered in faded stickers. 

“Yeah, I brought it over.”

“Haven’t seen something like that in years. Can I look at ‘em?”

“Go ahead,” you say smiling and handing it over to him. “Find something to play. It’s your stereo. Don’t tell me what you pick–I want to be surprised.” 

You love hearing the soft, familiar thud of the pages as Joel flips through it.

“Don’t recognize most of these names,” he murmurs.

“What kind of music do you like?” you ask as you unroll your brush holder, picking out what you’ll need.

“Rock, country… a little bit of blues.”

“Country? Really? How typical Texas of you.”

He chuckles. “Good country. Real country. Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, ’n the like.”

“I stand corrected, Texas.”

He grunts in amusement while you begin laying out your paints on the countertop, carefully choosing your colors. 

“Found something,” Joel says.

“Can’t wait to hear what you pick,” you respond, pulling your palette out of your bag as he leaves the room. 

A bluesy rock guitar intro with a steady drumbeat begins to play as you mix emerald and olive tones together.

“Haven’t heard this one in over 20 years,” Joel says, re-entering the room. “Liked The Rolling Stones.” 

You kneel down on the floor to begin painting green stems. You move your brush and body slowly and smoothly, rising up to finish each stem tip. You feel Joel’s steady and attentive gaze follow you. 

“Never thought I’d see somebody paint like this again,” he says from the doorway.

“It’s my favorite thing to do,” your focus unwavering from the wall. 

“Can tell,” the gentleness of his voice causes your skin to prickle. “M’excited to see how it’ll look when it’s done.”

“Me too.”

You hear Joel take a deep breath and his footsteps shift. “I’m gonna go finish cleanin’ my guns,” he says with an exhale. “I’ll be in the dining room if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” you say, twisting your torso to look back at him with a smile. A large dollop of green paint falls from the paintbrush in your hand, plopping onto your exposed thigh. 

Joel’s eyes immediately drop to the spot, widening as you grab your paint stained rag and wipe the paint off. He clears his throat, his cheeks blush a subtle shade of red. “Uh, right. I’ll be in the dining room,” he repeats, turning quickly to stride away.

His hurried footsteps fade as they move into the next room. A small smile tugs at your lips and a rush of excitement blooms within you. 

You dip your brush back into the paint again, steadying your breath, and begin painting a new stem.

"S'pretty nasty out there, d’ya want that work light again? Sky’s turnin’ real dark,” Joel asks, interrupting your focus. 

“Yes, thank you,” you answer as your focus is still on the delicate petal you’re painting.

You hear Joel shuffle behind you to pull the light out, the same small grunt as earlier this week leaves his mouth when he bends over to plug it in. The light buzzes on, flooding the room and your painting with a bright white hue.

“You been kneeling on the floor like that for long?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. 

“Yep, it’s not so bad while down here,” you reply, still focused on your brushstrokes.

“Ya’ still have the hurt knees and you’re kneeling on the damn hardwood floor,” he mumbles under his breath as he leaves the room. 

You’ve gotten used to people not being concerned about such simple things like your personal comfort, Joel’s worry for you makes you feel a foreign feeling. 

He returns and holds a pillow out for you. “Here, grabbed ya’ this.”

“Oh, I’m okay, really,” you protest, “I don’t want to accidentally get paint on it.” 

“Don’t care, take it,” he insists.

You hesitate for a second before taking the pillow and slipping it underneath your already aching knees.

“Feels much better, thank you,” you say as you wiggle back and forth on the softness. 

“Welcome.” 

A long sigh escapes his lips, grabbing your attention. You glance up and meet his eyes– his hazel flecks glow in the light supplied by the work lamp. He sticks his tongue out to wet his supple lips, your eyes move to watch. He reaches a hand out, his thumb rests against your cheek, his fingers cradle your chin. 

Your breath hitches, lips parting as you inhale deeply, a chill takes over your whole body. The music from the stereo muffles. All that exists now in this moment is Joel’s touch. 

“Thank you again, for doin’ this for me,” he says, his voice low and tender. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout how nice it’s gonna be to look over and see this once it’s finished… reminding me of home.”

“O-of course Texas,” you stammer, your eyes still lingering on his mouth. 

“Mm,” he grunts, his head dipping with a slight nod. 

“L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L–” The music stutters.

“Shit, I forgot this song always does that,” you say as Joel’s hand retreats from your cheek. 

“I got it,” he says, quickly striding out of the room. 

“You just have to skip to the next track and it should work!” you call after him as your skin still tingles from where his hand had been moments ago silently cursing your scratched CD.  

The track changes, the interruption long gone, just like Joel’s touch. You return to painting, calming your body and emotions in the aftermath. You exhale slowly, trying to calm the flutter of nerves in your chest, grounding yourself back into the rhythm of painting. You don’t hear from him until well after the CD finishes and the house falls silent.

“Dinner’s ready,” he says, rapping his knuckles gently on the doorway, snapping you out of your trance. “You got a lot done—s’lookin’ real good.”

You glance over your shoulder at him, surprised by how much time has passed. The shared moment between you now feels long gone and distant.

“Thanks,” you say standing up and stretching, placing your paintbrush in the jar of water.

“Just come to the kitchen when you’re all done in here.” 

“Hope you like turkey and barley soup,” Joel says as you enter the kitchen. 

“Any soup makes me happy,” you reply with a smile.

“Good,” he places a bowl in front of you. “This one I actually made, Maria didn’t hafta take pity on me for this meal.”

It looks delicious and smells incredible. Joel’s taken the time to set the table tonight, a tattered cloth napkin folded neatly beneath a soup spoon, a glass of water to the side, you notice the coffee stains have been wiped up. 

You take a bite, the warm soup slides down your throat, perfect for a chilly rainy evening, it’s good. “Joel, this is… really, really delicious.”

His eyes soften. “I’m glad you like it, haven’t cooked for anybody ‘cept Ellie in years.” 

“You did boil me spaghetti earlier this week, remember?” you tease.

“Hmph,” he chuckles, “right.” 

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, your spoons against the bowls are the only sound. You should be nervous in this situation but the way Joel handles himself in front of you, as if he’s perfectly comfortable with you in his home makes your nerves settle.

You place your spoon down and sit back in your chair. “What was your favorite food before …everything?”

He thinks for a moment. “Don’t really know, maybe tamales? My mom used to make them every year for the holidays. I could eat six of them in one sitting.” 

“I loved tamales, too. God, I miss Mexican restaurants. You know, I just remembered margaritas. I used to always see people drink them when we’d get Mexican and I always thought that looked so cool. I never got to try one.” 

He watches you with that familiar expression, as if he could listen to you talk for hours, nodding along with a small smile. “What was your favorite food?” he asks.

“Fettuccine Alfredo, one hundred percent. My mom used to make it for me every year for my birthday. If we went to an Italian restaurant, it’s what I’d always order, definitely Fettuccine Alfredo.”

“Never had it, always just stuck to pouring a jar of Ragu over spaghetti or a frozen lasagna,” he says, a small grin on his face. 

“I miss those too. Anc cheese. I miss being able to have cheese whenever I wanted so much. The stuff we have now just isn’t the same.”

“Mm,” Joel nods, “kinda like the ice cream we have. Not the same, but good enough.”

“Isn’t that the motto of these times?” you say with a smirk. “‘Not the same but good enough.’”

“S’a good one,” Joel pauses, “you’re funny.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear feeling Joel’s eyes follow your movements as he gets up. 

You rise as well, grabbing your bowl to follow Joel over to the sink. He reaches for it, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes it from your hand. “I’ve got it,” he says, placing the dishes into the sink. “You seem to be almost finished in there.”

“Yeah, I think I only have a couple more hours of work left,” you say stretching your back. 

“Don’t want to keep you any longer tonight, know you got work tomorrow and know it’s a lot bein’ down on the floor like that for as long you were.” 

“Yeah, they’re aching,” you admit with a shy smile. “When do you want me to come and finish it?”

“Tomorrow at the same time, if you want.” 

“That works, might be a little late though–Fridays are always busy with the end of the school week.” 

“Course, take your time. I’ll be here.”

“Is it okay if I leave my things in the room? If not, that’s okay too I can take them ho–” 

“S’fine,” he interrupts gently, he places his hand against your back. “Don’t mind at all. I’ll walk you home, s’getting late and it’s still rainin’ pretty bad.” 

You protest. “No, I’ll be okay, I’ve walked through much worse.” 

“Don’t care.” he cuts you off as he grabs your flannel from the hook. “I’m walking you home, it’s pourin’.”

He holds your flannel open for you and offers a small nod. You step forward and slip your arms through the sleeves, the closeness sends goosebumps across your skin.

“Course,” Joel breathes out as you step away and grab your backpack.

“You really don’t have to—“

“Now, stop telling me I don’t have to,” he says, mild frustration tinging his voice as he shrugs on his jacket. “I want to.”

He opens the door and motions you to go ahead of him before grabbing your umbrella. 

“Don’t you have one as well?” you ask.

“Never got one. S’a nasty storm today, I think it’s going to be just as bad tomorrow.” 

You step out, the rain falls in a steady stream. “It’s good for the crops and the water reserves at least,” you shrug as Joel holds the umbrella above you. 

As you walk down the road, you notice the rain pelting Joel, his head and shoulders already damp as he holds the umbrella over you.

“There’s enough room for both of us under here, there’s no sense in you getting soaked,” you say, stepping closer to him.

He murmurs something under his breath–it sounds like “Y’sweet,” but the rain drowns out the sound. You almost think you imagined it. He adjusts the umbrella, moving it so that both of you are shielded from the rain.

The two of you walk towards your home, your bodies occasionally tapping against each other as Joel huddles over you. You wish you could slow down, elongate your time next to him, stay under the shelter of the umbrella and his body.

“That’s me, right there,” you say nodding towards your front door. 

“Y’got a cat?” Joel asks when he sees your cat Penny sitting on your windowsill backlit by your lamp.

“Yeah, two of them. You like cats?”

“Even if I did, couldn’t have ‘em. Allergic.”

“That’s a shame,” you reply with a shrug.

“Hm,” he grunts with a subtle smile.

Escaping the rain underneath the safety of the awning of your front porch, Joel closes your umbrella and hands it back to you as you tap your wet boots against your frayed welcome mat.

“Well, thanks for walking me home, I’ll see you tomorrow?” You say as you rest your back against your front door.

“Yeah,” Joel says, his eyes holding your attention for a moment longer than expected. “See you tomorrow.”

He turns and leaves your little yard, turning back around at your fencepost to give you a nod before continuing down the road in the dark rain. Joel Miller just walked you home.

[americas-ass-writing]

Get up, try again, walk it off

Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Steve was tired of it all and wants to give up but someone convinces him not to

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: mentions of injuries, mentions of a hospital, dark thoughts, thoughts of death/ wanting to die

A/N: I wrote this when I was absolutely devastated after yet another rejection. I fixed the ending to be happier when I was in a better mood. I would have let this rot in my drafts if it wasn't for @anika-ann telling me that it's beautiful I could channel my emotions and create something and that she wants to read it. So thanks love 💙

You fall, you push yourself up. You fail, you try again. You get hurt, you walk it off.

Wisdoms Steve lived by his whole life. But what if... What if he reached a point where he doesn't have the strength to push himself up? What if he doesn't have the strength to try again? What if he doesn't want to walk it off? What if he just gave up? If he just let the exhaustion win and succumb to it?

Fight after fight, loss after loss, punch after punch. Steve was tired. So tired. He did so much good, saved so many lives. Why did he never get kindness back? Why did people spit on him for saving the city? Why did he only become a facade, a symbol and nothing else? Why did his feelings not matter?

His eyes open and he almost lets out a sigh that they do. Couldn't they stay closed? Couldn't his body just... no. That's not how his genetically engineered body works. It doesn't give up. He manages a smile at Bucky who's already berating him for risking his life and squeezes Natasha's hand that holds his. This is the most kindness he gets, his little disfunctional family. Still his heart longed for more... For a person to love him, to love Steve Rogers the man behind the shield, a person he can love back. For stolen moments, sweet smiles, comforting hugs, sweet kisses, a neverending love. But when you work as a superhero you don't get these things. You don't get a person who loves you. So his little disfunctional family is all he has, all he'll ever get. With that realisation he closes his eyes again and enjoys his friends as the yearning in his heart grows stronger once more. Maybe one day his heart will align with his brain and understand that he'll never have that kind of love. Maybe one day his body will align with his brain so it understands giving up and being tired is not an option for Captain America. Maybe one day he'll just function.

It's worst when he's alone. The silence louder than ever and his heart squeezing painfully at the loneliness. Oh how he wished he had a special someone who'd curl up next to him in the hospital bed, someone who'd text him good night, someone who'd search his eyes and frown at what they find, someone who'd try to make it better.

Sometimes he tries to distract himself, imagine he had this person. Daydreams in the kitchen of arms wrapping around his waist, of someone dancing with him while the food cooks on the stove. Reading a story and imagining himself as the love interest in the romance book he hides within the history one. Drawing himself with a blank insert of a partner, fantasising about the latest date they went on. Dreaming about someone, only to wake up and realise the hand that cradled his face was his own.

Every time he comes back to reality his heart pangs with the pain of loneliness. Steve doesn't understand why his brain and heart wouldn't just get used to it. He doesn't understand why he could feel so alone when he's surrounded by people. It's been this way for years and it never changed. Not even when he attempted to find someone. Sharon didn't work out, dates went awful and he didn't stumble upon the love of his life like in those romcoms Nat and Wanda liked to watch. His eyes find the ceiling of the med bay again and he lets out a sigh. Couldn't they stay closed for once?

"Ah Captain Rogers you're still awake" his eyes fall on an older gentleman, probably what he'd look like if he wouldn't have been frozen all those years. "I'm sorry if I woke you up I just need to check some of your vitals." He explains further and walks up to the machine Steve is connected to. Steve's eyes flit over his nametag. "No problem Mr Stan" he says with the best smile he can muster. The older man chuckles and pads Steve's shoulder lightly. "Stan is my first name. I prefer using it over my last name. Now... You probably have an interesting story to tell about how you ended up here huh? Not every day we get in Captain America on the brink of death." The older man smiles at him before he takes notes on the starkpad. Once he's done he places it on the small nightstand next to Steve's bed and pulls up a chair. "It almost seems like you've been getting more reckless over the years. You used to come in with a scrape or broken rip, we're out in a heartbeat."

Steve doesn't know what inclines him to open up to this man he hasn't met before but he lets out a sigh and rubs his face. "Brink of death? I guess I just tried to save as many people as possible. Didn't get out of the building on time before it collapsed..." The older man lifts an eyebrow and gives Steve a look as if he doesn't buy his shit. It rivals his mom's. He doesn't have to say anything to get Steve to open up. "Maybe... Maybe I don't want to do this anymore..." He whispers and the older man's face melts to a look of sympathy.

"Even superheros can change their jobs or retire" he offers oh so sweetly, causing Steve to let out a bitter laugh. "It's... Not just the job... It's everything... But especially the loneliness... How... Why do I feel lonely even if I'm constantly surrounded by people?" His eyes fill with tears that he quickly blinks away. "Oh my boy... You long for a special someone, for love? It'll find you. And before you scoff again and tell me it won't... It will. Everyone's deserving of love. And everyone will get the love they give. And you have given so much love. You'll get all of it and more back." Steve doesn't know why but he believes him. The hope in his chest blooming once again after he tried to suffocate it for years.

"But when?" His voice breaks. "It's not fair that I have to wait for it... I... I lost so much, I gave so much. Why do I not have that special someone yet?" It's the first time in years Steve has shown any form of weakness to another person. "Life isn't fair my boy... But we need to make the best out of it. Now I assume you've tried to find someone" at Steve's nod the older man hums. "Maybe you've just looked in the wrong places. Maybe you need someone like yourself that's yearning for love?" He offers and Steve thinks about it for a moment before he nods. They could help each other, love each other, heal each other. "But where would I find someone like that?" He whispers. Stan gives him a smile. "That, my boy, only you can find out. But you'll know when you meet them." He gets up and pads Steve's shoulder before he grabs the starkpad and walks to the door. "Who knows, maybe they're closer than you think" he throws over his shoulder and gives Steve a kind smile before he leaves the room. Steve looks after him and mulls over his words. Another sigh and he closes his eyes, trying to figure out a close place where someone like him could be for him to find.

A timid knock on the door pulls him out of his sleep. When did he fall asleep? He opens his eyes and is confused to see light streaming through the window. "Captain Rogers?" The melodic voice pulls his view from the window to the door, to you. His breath catches as he takes you in. You're the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

"I'm sorry to wake you but I have to take your vitals and then Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner want to have a look at you." You explain and walk over to the machine. "And after that you'll get breakfast. Your friends are already waiting in the hallway with it." You explain and put some data in the starkpad.

"Stan already took my vitals... Only 3 hours ago." Steve explains and sits up a bit to make sure he read the time right. You stop in your tracks and look at him confused. "Stan?" Steve's alarm bells ring. Oh no. Did someone sneak in? Did he tell an enemy his deepest darkest secrets? "Stan only works mornings... He hasn't started yet today" you tell him with that soft tone of yours. "Maybe you dreamt it? I don't have any data entry from 3 hours ago" you offer him the starkpad to look at his file only to confirm it. "Oh..." Steve let's out and looks at you. "I... I guess I dreamt it..." He doesn't know why he's so embarrassed by it.

"Many patients with head injuries dream weird things. It's completely normal." You explain with a smile. He takes you in once more. It's the same smile he gives. Seemingly happy but the longer you look at the eyes, the more you notice the sadness behind them. Maybe it was a dream... Maybe it wasn't. Maybe you're the one closer than he thinks yearning for love just like he does.

"How long have you been working here?" Steve asks and could throw himself out of the window for it. Maybe he should take Bucky up on the offer to learn how to flirt. "A few months now... And you?" You visibly cringe at your answer which he finds adorable. "Sorry that was stupid... You've been here since the beginning I... I'm just bad at smalltalk." Steve chuckles a little and gives you a sweet smile. "It's fine... I'm not great at it either... I uh... I'm Steve" he offers you his hand and you gently take it and introduce yourself. Steve's heart skips a beat and he's sure you'd notice it on the machine he's hooked up to but you're too busy giving him the sweetest smile there is. This time with more happiness in your eyes and Steve swears in this moment that he'll do anything to see your eyes full of happiness.

After the next mission that lands him in the med bay he isn't alone in his bed. You're curled up next to him, playfully glaring and telling him how stupid he is. He has a smile on his lips the entire time and agrees with you which makes you smile. The prettiest smile he knows and your eyes are full of happiness.

Steve thinks your eyes can't get happier, until the next time you two find yourselves in a hospital bed. This time Steve is curled up on his side, his arm carefully draped over your stomach and his eyes never leaving you and your little bundle of joy. He never imagined his heart could be so full of love, his body vibrating with happiness and here he was. Just a couple years after he wanted to give up, after he basically begged his eyes to stay close. If his body would have listened he would have missed out on his beautiful life with you and now your little one.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

hii! so i read ur dating tom k hcs and i loved them, could i pls request dating bill hcs as well? hope u have a good day/night <3

(hello! Thank you for requesting and sorry if this is a bit messy but enjoy! Thank you for loving my Tom headcannons, and have a good night/day!)

Dating Bill Headcannons

He is probably the best choice to even be with

He's so amazing man

I feel like he would rather have a private and intimate relationship

He wouldn't want paparazzi and fans all in your guys' business

But paparazzi has gotten a couple pictures of you guys

And Lord

He looks so in love, when he looks at you it looks like he's full on smitten

When he is in a relationship, he will do his best to make it last and be happy

He doesn't want to lose any chance he has to be with you for as long as he can

When people flirt with you, either in front of him or just in general

He feels a little bad

Just a bit

There is a lot of bickering in the relationship

Playful banter

You guys play wrestle a lot probably just because to piss the other off

There are mistakes on both sides of the relationship as it probably is his and your first one

So get over those hurdles and it's all good

Switches from German to English on you a lor

So if you know German, amazing!

If you dont, pray someone can translate

Would love if you learned German for him if you didn't know before

Because since he is pretty popular he is busy, and he feels bad because he doesn't have much extra time even if he does he spends it with you

After people flirt with you he'll try his best to spend as much time as possible with you

Is the embodiment of the kid who you're parents dream about you bringing home only for him to turn around and be the complete opposite

He's Bill, he can be flirty, shy and anything at any given time

He's not all that blatant about affection in public

Mostly hand holding and small kisses or kisses on the cheek or holding your waist

But in private is a whole other story

Mans is not letting go

It feels like he is glued to you

He loves doing your makeup to match his

Just you like straddling his lap as you just let him do your makeup

It's perfect

You guys are a pretty popular couple

Lots of rumors about you guys but you both ignore them

He gets asked about you a lot interviews

He is happy to answer and and all given questions as long as they don't cross a line

He is proud to say out loud he is dating you

He is down bad man

Matching outfits all the way

You guys probably have whole fan pages about you guys

You inspire some songs, some are just for you two and one or two he has released to the public

"Yeah, that one is about (Name)."

He says it with the biggest smile on his face

Tom teases his brother so much

Bill denies being totally smitten until you come into the room

He likes sitting next to you no matter where

Will have a hand on your thigh just because

His hands are sometimes cold so don't be alarmed when it's freezing

You guys go shopping and he's full on making outfits for you to show him

Full on show and spending hours in a shop

He does not care

You guys get lost a lot when you guys wander off

Gustav has found you both in multiple parks in the middle of the night

He will pull you up on stage when he wants

If your style is similar to his, he is full on in love

Even if it isn't, he likes how your style would contrast with his

He lets you do his makeup

Like Tom, is not threatened by his bandmates or brother if you get close to them

Would actually prefer if you were friends with them so you can come along and spend more time with him

If you're in the band, he is having the time of his life on stage

And if you're not, he's still gonna spot you out in the crowd

Always wants to make you proud of dating him when he is performing

He likes the fans, but would prefer just hugs and not kisses from them since he is dating you

If you're okay with it, he's fine with it, but if you're not he would ask them to please not kiss him

He doesn't want to risk your relationship

He is an asshole a lot of times

Idk if it's on purpose or he's joking around

He can be an asshole

Of you play an instrument or sing, he thinks it is legit a match made in heaven

Likes laying in bed with his head on your chest instead of the other way around

He would be devastated if you guys ever broke up or went on a break

Is trying his hardest to make up with you even in arguments

He is not letting the relationship go easily

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

Here's my thing not to always be complaining about bad interpretations BUT I genuinely do not understand how anyone at all can see the scene that established the Kraken where Ed is subjected to abuse by his father and then kills him, and then see a character attempt to force Ed to kill the first person hes ever gotten close to, attempt to kill the first person Ed has ever gotten close to, call law enforcement to come in and kill the first person Ed has ever gotten close to, and then when he succeeds in driving that person away and Ed tries to open up to even more people tell him he's better off dead and threaten his life. And then see Ed choke that character with a lighthouse painting positioned in the background just like how he choked his dad with a lighthouse in the background and declare himself the kraken like he did when he was talking about his abusive fathers death and not read all that information as leading back to Izzy abusing him. Like season 1 actually sends a very clear message if you're not into incel apologia.

And yes I have seen season 2, season 2 did three things in regards to this arc. The first thing it did was call the relationship toxic and unhealthy which affirms this reading, the second thing season 2 did was clarify that Izzy's intentions in doing all this were in fact to have Ed all to himself out of a psychosexual obsession rather than out of a hunger for power or even as a hate crime or whatever, so those are Izzy's two "this only looks like abuse but actually is about something else" alibis down, which reaffirms this reading, and the third thing it did was have Izzy take it all back and decide he's actually better now which, the redemption arc doesn't contradict any of that. And no I'm not ignoring Ed's violence against Izzy, he did all of that violence fully after four times trying to isolate Ed violently from other people and I think it's acceptable to kill your abuser, so Ed's violence doesn't factor into my read aside from how it relates to how he handled his first abuser, his father, and how he handled his second abuser, Hornigold, in the dream scape.

So basically last time I made this meta I said "guys I think Izzy might be abusing Ed, but Idk he could just be power hungry as fucked up little henchmen often are." But now that I have season 2 I'm rewriting it and saying that I know that Izzy is one of Ed's abusers, so thank you season 2 for clarifying this for me. He changed his mind and, well all I have to say about that is that I hope Ed feels safer now that he has changed his mind, but I still don't much care for him.

If you comment on this to argue with me without adding a 🦜emoji I'll assume you haven't read the whole thing before getting mad at me and delete your reply.

[yanderes-galore]

Can I request a yandere concept for Flippy/Fliqpy with Unlucky! Darling? They always get injured/die and end up in dangerous situations. I wonder if his heart could handle all of that...

Good luck with everything btw. You're the strongest writing soldier I know

Ah, yes, murderous bears are my specialty. Also, thank you! Tackling things at my own pace, lol. This is less yandere and more just dark... but I have no idea what to call it like most of my fics that stray away from the original premise???

Yandere! Flippy/Fliqpy with Unlucky! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, PTSD, Violence, Blood, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Murder, Attempted isolation, Fear of loss, Dark themes, Death loop, Dubious companionship/relationship.

When it comes to writing HTF, I haven't covered how canon deaths are in my fics.

Sometimes I've explained it as a death loop, sometimes I've explained it as a dream.

For this fic, I may call it both.

Your whole life is a death loop, every demise feeling like a twisted nightmare.

But at the same time... the blood and pain is quite real.

When it comes to Flippy/Fliqpy, I have a feeling many of your deaths are actually at his paws.

In the death loop you often fall victim to many things.

All painful accidents you fall victim to until the next day...

Which then makes you do it all over again.

If Flippy is sensitive to these death loops and remembers all of your deaths... safe to say he doesn't handle it well, no.

Even less if he realizes he's been the reason for your downfall a few times as Fliqpy.

Each time he finds your corpse, it makes the green bear snap a bit more.

Flippy, let's be honest, has seen his fair share of blood.

That's why Fliqpy exists.

But nothing prepares him to see the death of his friend/crush/lover over and over again.

When his comrades died before, they stayed dead.

They were never brought back, they were never killed over and over.

No, instead Flippy gets to watch the one he cares the most for die continuously.

Sometimes even by him.

It would be interesting to think of Flippy trying his best to prevent the loop.

He sticks close to you, he stays away from you, he keeps an eye on you, he locks you away...

Nothing he does works.

The thing that would make his obsession worse is the fact he's going mad trying to prevent it.

Which may make Fliqpy worse... which hurts you more... then there's a feedback loop...

As you can tell this is a horrible scenario for him.

It hurts him that he can't even have you.

Whenever he tries to get close, he risks bad things happening to both of you like some sort of Murphy's Law concept.

Flippy isn't sure what to do.

He'd even try previous methods over again just for some sort of difference.

He tries never leaving your side, only to feel your blood on his fur after some black out.

He tries staying away to watch from a distance, only for some other threat to obliterate you into a red mist.

He even tries locking you away with him, only for you to die some way again in some horrific accident.

Perhaps there was even a loop where he swapped to Fliqpy and attacked everyone in sight.

He'd cover himself in blood, he'd hold himself back from hurting you, he'd sacrifice everyone just to see you live.

Only for you to die again, leaving him to rock back and forth in his home as he loses it.

In this concept, there's nothing he can really do.

No matter if he kills those around you, or even you to spare you...

It's futile.

He's obsessed more with the idea of saving you than anything.

He cares for you... loves you... adores you...

Yet he can only hope you don't remember each loop.

That each day... It's done quickly... Just another bad dream.

On the days where the loop pauses momentarily for some respite... Flippy doesn't leave your side.

If he had things his way, he'd lock you in a bunker with him...

A bunker that's quiet and safe... just you and him...

Flippy cherishes the time the loop doesn't pick you off, but his anxiety tends to linger.

Soon... you'll die again...

He's forced to watch, his psyche withering away each time...

All while he hopes it really IS just a bad dream he'll wake from one day... and you two are together forever with nothing to hurt you in the waking world.

[maxarchive]

CHAMPION’S PRESS CONFERENCE 

Q. Max Verstappen you are a three-time world champion. How good does that sound? I mean, of course it sounds great. It's something I never even really dreamt of. It's, of course, a very proud moment for myself, for my family, my close family. I think everyone within the team I'm working with, you know, to be able to experience all of this together is amazing. And I said it on the radio already on the in-lap. Of course, we talk about performance and, you know, you can always thank the team for that, but I also find the whole atmosphere and how much I enjoy working with all these people, I find that probably even more important. It's very important to come to the track and know that you have nice people to work with.

Q. Of your three titles, where do you rank this one? This one is the best one. I think the first one was the most emotional one, because that's when your dreams are fulfilled in F1. But this one is definitely… It has been my best year. Yeah, well, so far, you know, consecutive wins and stuff like that, and the car itself has been probably in the best shape as well. So for me, this one is probably the one I’m most proud of in a way because of consistency.

Q. At what point in the season did you know you had the title in your hands? Well, not until this point, right? But no, of course the momentum was growing and race after race the gap was getting bigger. So I was just, you know, looking at myself, just trying to go through every single weekend trying to get the best out of it. That for me at that time is more important than dreaming about the title, because dreaming doesn't really bring you anywhere. It's about the effort and work you put in to try and achieve your goals.

Q. Christian Horner says you're operating at a level he's never previously seen. Do you think you've raised your game this year, to a new level? I keep trying to improve. And of course, I don't necessarily think I have become a faster driver, but you have a lot more experience in the car. You grow as a driver, you grow also, I think, as a person in life. And I think all these kinds of things, when I compare to my first season in Formula 1, they help you a lot in terms of just dealing with every kind of pressure situation throughout the weekend, you know, everything that might be thrown at you and in difficult conditions, for example. And in the end it's all about you know, trying to deliver every single weekend, which is I think very hard in Formula 1.

Q. Where have you felt the most pressure this year, which race? It’s a good question. I don't know. I mean, it has to also do with track conditions or whatever. For example, the race in Zandvoort, when you're driving on slicks and it's raining, and I know of course I normally enjoy driving in the wet, but I also know that I'm leading the championship and if I go off and I'm stuck, you know, you lose a lot of points. So naturally, you're always driving a little bit under the limit, but that can be, in a way, dangerous as well. So probably when I was out there on slicks, you feel a bit pressured. Sometimes there are people behind you that are a bit faster, because they have nothing to lose. So it's a very different mindset as well that you're in when you are fighting for a championship.

Q. When you look back at the season as a whole, can we just talk about some of the highlights? Best win?  It's a few. I think my win in Miami, I really enjoyed. Spa, Zandvoort, but also Suzuka, like, winning the Constructors’ for example with the team there was fantastic. It's difficult to really pick one to be honest. Q. What about the most satisfying pole position? Probably Suzuka. Yeah, I've had a few. I mean, OK, maybe it didn't count but the one in Spa probably that I enjoyed – those kinds of conditions where you really have to pull it out of the bag. But yeah, in Suzuka the car was on rails. It was unbelievable to drive. And, you know, while driving, I was smiling and that's quite rare in a qualifying lap. 

Q. Knowing that there's nothing you like more than winning, this year, with the good package you have, you can out-score score Alain Prost’s victories and also you could reach Sebastian Vettel. Is this your goal right now? Yeah, of course I want to win as much as I can. I know that from third place to second is quite a big gap. So I hope maybe in my career I might end up somewhere there in the middle. That would be nice. But I don't know, it depends a lot on what's going to happen in the next few races and the next few years as well. I don't know how long this is going to last. I'm enjoying the moment and I think that's also very important. I’ve achieved more than I could have ever even dreamed of, or set any goals that I wanted to achieve in F1, right? So I'm loving the moment. We'll see where we end up but it's already way more than I ever thought I could achieve. So it's perfect.

Q. Max, you mentioned the package. How would you rate Honda's contribution to this third championship? It's massive. It's the chassis together with the engine that allows you to achieve these kinds of things. I'm very happy to work with Honda. I always have been. They are amazing people, they’re always super polite but also super motivated and always willing to listen and of course willing to improve. And so yeah, they will always have a special place in my heart even when, of course, they leave at the end of ‘25. But for now, let's just enjoy the moment together. And yeah, I'm very proud also for them, from where we started as a team together and where we are at now. I think we can all be very proud of that.

Q. Max, on the radio after you crossed the line Christian rattled off the names of the other three-time World Champions and he said, it's not a bad list. I know you're not really one for records but in terms of the names you're joining, and maybe going to now surpass in the years to come, do you think about the legacy that you're going to leave in Formula 1 or is it still very much focused on the here and now? I find it always a tricky one because I'm not in Formula 1 to leave a legacy in a way. I'm here to win and I'm here to try to do the best I can and try to enjoy the moment with the people who helped me achieve these things. That's, for me, way more important than trying to leave a legacy. But yeah, it's something that I never thought was possible, to be in that list. When you see those names, you're like, wow! that's incredible what these people have achieved in their careers and now you're alongside them. It is, of course, an amazing feeling. 

Q. Max,  firstly, how do you intend to celebrate tonight? And do you think that might have any bearing on tomorrow's Grand Prix? And secondly, I don't want to keep going back to it but obviously you’ve won three titles in three years, you've wrapped them up pretty speedily, you must be looking at Michael on seven, Lewis on seven and thinking I can get there. I could get to eight.  The first one, yeah, I guess quite a few sparkling waters tonight but I'll be here tomorrow! Yeah, to be honest, the second one… it's a bit different to some other sports where you can really set out targets and you’re like, if I just keep myself in a good shape then these kind of things are possible or whatever. In F1 it doesn't always work like that so I just live in the moment. And like I said before, I've already achieved way more than I ever thought I would.

Q. So shortly after your title, you’re already talking about tomorrow and about the remaining races that you want to perform, that you want to win. I didn't expect anything else but do you fear that there will become a moment in your life that that insatiable hunger is not there anymore? For sure. Yeah, I think that that's normal. I don't think that someone will… Of course, I'm still very young but at one point I think you've had enough. I think everyone at one point has that if that is because you realise that your body can't handle it anymore in some sports then you have to accept that. And you have to just, in a way retire, but for sure, at one point, you might want to do other stuff or race a bit less, absolutely. But not right now.

Q. A similar note to what Ben was just saying, the difference between all three of your titles. In 2021 you fought against Mercedes all the way to the end. Last year, it was against Ferrari, OK, their challenge fell away. This year, your only rival really was within your own team and even that didn't last very long. How did it feel not having to really go against another team this year? Well, of course for F1 you would like to see more competition, but for me, I don't need any other team or like a team-mate to get the best out of myself. I'm putting a lot of pressure on myself to always try and be the best I can, try to prepare in the best possible way. That's what I enjoy and that's the only thing that I really look at.

Q. Max, is it a bit of a shame that you don't get your hands on the World Championship trophy for another six weeks or so?  You're given that P2 plaque by the FIA president in Parc Fermé but would you rather get your hands on the trophy for being the World Champion there and then?  It’s OK, they look the same. I have two at home so they're not changing. It's just one extra name on it. But it's OK, I can wait a little bit. Yeah, I got one next to my sim rig and one next to the TV.