#i posted already but didn’t like the way i had it so sorry not sorry

[theonottsbxtch]

I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43

an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this

summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.

wc: 4.4k

She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.

She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.

Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.

Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.

It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?

It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.

No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.

The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.

Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.

And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”

He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.

And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.

“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.

Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”

There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.

“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.

“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.

His first race was in Monza.

And Franco had made sure she’d be there.

The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.

She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.

She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.

“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”

She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.

“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”

It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”

The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”

A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”

The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”

It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.

“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”

The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.

As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”

She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.

And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.

The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.

The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.

A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”

“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”

He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”

She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”

He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”

For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”

She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”

He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.

“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.

“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”

She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.

He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”

The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.

She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.

“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.

“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.

She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.

When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.

Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.

It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”

She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.

“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”

Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”

She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”

Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.

Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.

“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”

Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”

She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.

“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.

Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. “But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.

A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.

She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.

Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.

“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”

She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.

He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”

She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”

“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”

But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.

Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.

But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.

Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.

She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.

By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.

Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.

“¡Mira! Is that really you?”

She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.

“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.

He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”

“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.

“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.

She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.

The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”

He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”

They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.

Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.

to be continued…?

[crookedfivefingers]

3.13 | ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʟᴏʀᴅꜱ

link to the post I accidentally wound up prattling endlessly about in the tags 💀

[band--psycho]

Rafayel x Reader - Change Of Plans

Part three of my 'They find out you got hurt on a mission' series. This will include Zayne, Sylus, Xavier and Rafayel! I'll be posting the other stories over the next few days, please let me know if you want to be tagged in any of them!

This is also my first Rafayel story so please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

L&DS Masterlist / Rafayel Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: Hospitals, discharging ones self from hospital, mentions of pain medication, mentions of injuries

You knew discharging yourself from the hospital wasn’t the most logical thing to do, especially when the nurses were so insistent on you staying there for observation. 

But you weren’t exactly a big fan of hospitals and you weren’t dying, you just had a slightly nasty cut on your side, one that the nurses had already stitched and bandaged up. 

So as long as you were careful, you saw no reason why you couldn’t leave, which is why you were getting a taxi to Rafayels place. 

Perhaps you would’ve stayed, had it been any other day. 

But today, you couldn’t. 

Today, you had a job to do. 

Rafayel was going to a gallery opening tonight, and as his bodyguard, it was your job to be there and ensure nothing happened to him. 

You were well aware that Rafayel could handle himself well enough, but nevertheless, protecting him was still your job…and you knew you’d never forgive yourself if something happened to him and you weren’t there to stop it. 

People at events like this could get nasty, jealous of the success Rafayel had as an artist; you’d seen your fair share of angry competitors attempting to confront him; not that they ever really got very far. 

You were always there to stop them from getting to him. 

90% of the time, people would just walk away, muttering curse words under their breath; then there was then the other 10% that thought it would be easy to take you down, of course you proved them wrong every single time, much to the delight of your boss.  

You sucked in a small, sharp breath as you carefully exited the taxi, making sure not to pull any of your stitches. 

Part of you was regretting not taking any pain medication before you left the hospital, because now that the adrenaline had worn off, the pain of your injury was beginning to set in. 

Another small wince fell from your lips as you knocked on Rafayels door; waiting patiently on the doorstep to be let in either by him or Thomas.

You heard footsteps walking down the hallway before the door opened to reveal your boss standing in the doorway. 

“There you are,” 

You could hear the relief in his voice as he looked at you with a small smile.

“Normally you’re the one chasing me to be on time,” he joked lightly; and you smiled back at him, knowing it was true. 

You’d lost track of the amount of times Rafayel was the one who ran late to these events; quite often you had to lure him away from his sketchbook with the promise that if he was bored in the first half an hour then you two could leave. 

“I’m sorry, my mission ran over a little,” 

You could feel Rayafels eyes on you, his expression remained neutral but you could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe your reason for nearly being late.  

But he didn’t push the matter any further, which you were grateful for. 

You knew that if he knew that you were injured, he wouldn’t go to the event tonight at all. 

That was even more of a reason why you just needed to focus on the task at hand; and hope that that would distract you from the pain you were in. 

He invited you inside; and the two of you were discussing the exit routes from the gallery as well as some of his competitors who were bound to make an appearance tonight; that was until you both heard a car pull up outside. 

It was Thomas. 

You slowly rose to your feet, assuming that you were both going to be leaving to go to the gallery, but instead, Rafayel put his hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back down to the seat you’d been sitting in. 

“Stay here,” he said softly, vanishing behind the door and heading outside; you saw him talking to Thomas through the window, you didn’t know what Rafayel had said to Thomas, but you could tell that whatever it was, Thomas wasn’t that pleased about it.

When Rafayel came back into the room you were in, he had a beaming smile on his face as he flopped down into  the chair opposite you, “So, what do you want to do tonight?” 

“We’re going to the gallery opening?”  

The confusion in your voice was palpable; not even five minutes ago you were discussing the necessary safety precautions to take at tonight's events, now you weren’t going atl all?

You were used to Rafael changing his mind about going to events like this, but it just never normally happened this quickly.

“No we’re not,” he answered simply, picking up a nearby pencil and twirling it between his fingers, “I don’t feel like going anymore?”

“Why?” You questioned, mentally preparing yourself to have to persuade him to go. 

“They happen quite often, I’m sure I won’t miss anything,” he nonchalantly answered; before his enchanting pinkish-purple eyes met yours, “Besides, I think you could use some rest,miss Hunter” 

“I’m fine, Raf,” you countered back, a little too quickly, an action that wasn’t missed by Rafael

“Is that so? He asked quizzically, narrowing his eyes slightly,before putting the pencil on the table in front of him before taking a few steps towards you,his eyes never leaving yours.“Then why were you wincing earlier,”

You could have stuck with what you’d originally said; that your mission had simply taken longer than planned, but you knew Rafayel would see straight through your white lie as he already had. 

You hated having to tell people that you’d been injured during a mission, you were a hunter, you were trained to avoid getting hurt; so when situations like this happened, it made you feel slightly humiliated. 

And now you were going to have to tell the person who hired you to be his own personal bodyguard, that you got hurt during a mission and ended up in hospital.

“What happened?” 

You noticed a slight change in the colour of  his eyes; it wasn’t the first time you’d seen it happen, though it only ever seemed to happen when he was worried about something. 

And right now, that something was you. 

He was worried about you. 

“I…I got hurt on my mission,” you mumbled your admission almost so quietly you weren’t sure if Rafayel had even heard it. 

“Why aren’t you at the hospital?” he asked, placing his hand on top of yours gently, running his thumb just under one of the cuts on the back of your hand. 

“I was,” you admitted, “But I discharged myself.” 

“Because of the gallery opening?” 

You nodded simply to his question. 

“Your commitment to your job is admirable, cutie, even if a little foolish,” he praised, moving his other hand to the side of your face, cupping your cheek delicately as though you were going to break if he held too harshly. 

“You should’ve told me,” he whispered, “I would’ve come and kept you company.” 

You couldn’t deny how his words, along with his actions, made you feel…

A feeling that you’d been trying to push away for the past few months.

“Raf, that’s sweet, but we both know you have better things to do with your time than sit with me in the hospital,” you stated matter of factly; making a small chuckle fall from your bosses lips. 

“Spending time with you is one of the best ways I could possibly spend my time,” he cooed, leaning his head down slightly before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“Raf-” you breathed, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you savored the closeness of him. 

“Get some rest, cutie,” he quietly said, before grabbing the blanket that was behind the chair and placing it over you, “I’ll wake you up in a little while when our food is here.” 

You could’ve argued with him; but arguing would’ve been useless; and in all honesty, you were exhausted, so you complied with what your boss was telling you to do; you got yourself settled in the chair and slowly let your exhaustion take over. 

Rafayel watched you for a little while; until he was certain that you were asleep.

He knew that you were fine. 

But that didn’t stop him from worrying about you. 

When he saw you wince as you got out of the taxi, he felt his heart ache, he knew that something had happened, that was why he told Thomas that he wasn’t going to Gallery Opening tonight, he didn't want to put you at risk of getting hurt anymore than you already had.

He wanted to keep you safe. 

And he was going to ensure that that happened; that you were safe, no matter what.

Tagglist:

@xacatalepsyx @stiltdeer-snootnoodle @deathkat657 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @chubby-bun-bun @whimsiecat @callme-amaya

[ijwtbap]

ㅤㅤ★ㅤA promise — Bakugō

— Bakugō x GN! reader.

You like Katsuki, he likes you — is a fact not a maybe. He doesn't seem to believe it thought.

a/n. I had to keep my promise ig. Is VERY short so im sorry, also Im bad at english and is my first one shot so have some mercy plz.

You were going insane. Just a little bit. Well, actually, you were ready to rip out your hair and scream into the void, standing naked as flames consumed you. That's kind of insane.

Every time Bakugō referred to you as his friend—even if he only said you weren’t that annoying and didn’t mind having you around (which was close enough)—you wanted to disappear.

You had done everything but treat him platonically. Sure, you could see how holding hands, cuddling, or crying together might seem platonic. But kissing in bed and saying “I love you” in a completely serious way?

You were completely lost.

At first, you thought it was a joke, then maybe just a game to him.

But now? Now you’re convinced he’s just... dense.

You could tell Bakugō you love him dead serious while looking him dead in the eyes, on your knees and with a big sign that said 'plz marry me,' and he would still think you're joking.

And it was killing you.

"Are you going to study or what?"

You were in his bedroom, "studying." Yeah, right—studying. You just wanted to be there with him. You’d barged in without warning, and yet, he hadn’t even questioned your presence.

"No."

You knew he liked you back. There was no way he didn't, but fuck, he refused to acknowledge it.

"I like you."

His eyes widen for a second before he looks back at his notes.

"Shut up."

"I really do, tho."

"Yeah, whatever."

"I love you."

"If you don't stop, I will kick you out."

"I love you."

" __________ "

"I love you so much."

"Stop it."

"I want to marry you, one day when we're adults. Small or big wedding, or none at all, whatever you prefer."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I."

You two look at each other, him holding his pen so hard that it looks like it's about to break and you looking at him as if he were the most wonderful and prettiest dense idiot you have seen in your life.

"What do you need me to do to make you believe me?"

He ignores you. Mostly because he knows that paying attention to you would just make him more annoyed (because you clearly weren't going to stop) and because he didn't want to accept it.

"Die."

A small smile comes to your mouth. How many people would get offended by that? A lot, but you knew Bakugō didn't mean it.

"You want to recreate Given now?"

Bakugō rolls his eyes, making more notes in his notebook, but you were able to notice a small smirk.

You had forced him to watch it a couple of months ago, and he swears he didn't cry. You knew the truth, though.

"Shut up."

"Shut me up yourself, you coward."

He lets out another scoff, and he continues to avoid your eyes.

"Study already."

You loved Bakugō Katsuki, and he loved you back.

No matter how much time it would take you, you were going to make sure to take his last name and hold his hand in a not-platonic way.

One day.

"I love you."

I totally didn't use like 3 grammar online correctors, and re read this like 20 times (It will still have an issue, and I know it). I also didn't copy inspired my introduction (?) from a random post.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed my bad writing style. Im not doing this again, unless I get REALLY bored.

521 words.

[joelsgoldrush]

wip wednesday: "lovers once a year" (dbf!joel miller)

hello to you, tiny people on my phone. reaching the end of this semester has thrown me onto a motherfucking rollercoaster. if i even think about the amount of finals i have to sit for, i'm afraid i'll tear up. so here i am, drifting away from real-life responsibilities </3 still working on this dbf!joel fic cause i haven't had much time to write lately, but i'm trying not to be too hard on myself. i really like how it's coming along. i'm close to finishing, though i'm not going to promise a specific posting date because i never seem to manage it LMAO

anyway, thank you to @elflutter @joelsdagger and @ovaryacted for tagging me!!!

No one could’ve ever said Joel was a great best friend. For one, he was terrible at remembering important dates. His mind just didn’t catch hold of details like that—never had, really. He wasn’t the affectionate type, either. At best, he’d manage a pat on the back or a firm handshake, maybe even a call on Christmas if he remembered. Emotional displays weren’t in his nature, far too used to keeping things at arm’s length. Luckily for him, Stephen never seemed to care much about these things. They’d been friends for over forty years—which is, well, a hell of a long time, especially considering each had gone off to carve out his own life. They’d trudged through both primary and secondary school side by side, and Joel felt Stephen’s absence like a hollow ache the day his friend left for university in another state. Technology eventually offered them more ways to connect, but it didn’t make keeping up any simpler. The years had tested them, and somehow, they’d held on to the quiet strength of their friendship—a bond they’d forged across decades and distance, held steady like the roots of an old tree. Stephen was the laid-back type, always down for anything as long as a cold beer was part of the deal. It was rare for him to lose his temper, having a way of letting nuisances slide. Joel could bend every rule, yet Stephen’s patience never wavered. He was unflappable, hardly bothered by Joel’s mood swings, which was what made them a match made in heaven. Nothing seemed to throw him off. Though Joel doubts Stephen would stay so calm if he knew what he’d done to his daughter. As mentioned, Joel’s not exactly what you’d call a good friend—particularly considering he’s slept with his best friend’s daughter. Just once, to be fair. One ephemeral, impulsive encounter. Right here, in this very house, exactly three hundred and sixty-five days ago.

AND

Apart from the glint in your eyes, he catches the persistent, quiet ache of want. He isn’t sure if it’s just physical attraction, if it runs deeper, or if that’s all it is for him, either. He doesn’t need to know. The simplicity of it all is a short-lived relief. It’s an easy escape, though, this bare minimum of understanding—you want him, he wants you. Let it be enough for one more moment, for tonight, just another memory he’ll have to lock away. Yet he’s aware, deep down, of his own pattern: promises broken just as easily as they’re made. He’s only fooling himself. The part of him that knows this isn’t something he’ll let go of so easily sits there, silently taunting him, daring him to make another promise he won’t keep.

tagging: @lubdubology @zloshy @princessanglophile @cavillscurls @guiltyasdave @tightjeansjavi @mrsmando - so sorry if you've already been tagged :( - and anybody else who feels like doing it!

[4linos]

beyond the scrubs

han jisung x fem!reader

synopsis: new nurse jisung struggles with constant mistakes under a tough but skilled mentor, but their relationship evolves as they both learn the value of patience and support.

wc: 3578 ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

a/n: i’m sorry but reader is kind of mean in this they make up for it though so don’t worry. :>

Jisung was a bundle of nerves as he stood in the break room, eyes wide as the schedule for his first day of orientation was posted on the board. It was his second day at the hospital, fresh out of nursing school, and everything was still new—still overwhelming. But today was different. Today, he’d be shadowing you.

He had heard a lot about you from the other nurses. You were experienced, patient, and always had a kind word for patients, even when the shifts got tough. And, he had to admit, you were pretty—really pretty, in fact. The way you carried yourself, confident yet compassionate, was something he admired from a distance. The idea of working under you for the next few weeks filled him with both excitement and an inexplicable sense of nervous energy.

You were helping a nurse and adjusting your stethoscope when he saw you in the corridor. Jisung couldn't help but believe you seemed like someone who had it all together because you were calm and professional. He didn't. But he was determined to make an impression on you today. "Hey, Jisung," you called him as soon as you saw him standing outside the nurse's station. His heart skipped a beat when you gave him a brief smile. "Ready for your first shift?"

"Y-yeah, absolutely!" A bit too enthusiastic, he stuttered. "I’m really excited to work with you." You gave him a clipboard after nodding and rearranging the papers in your palm. "All right, let's begin. You'll help with assessments today, and I'll show you the ropes." Jisung gave a hearty nod. He had to do his best, and he would. Especially with you, he didn't want to leave a negative impression.The beginning was fairly easy. You showed him how to take vitals, examine patient history, and do basic medical assessments.

Even though his hands were a little unsteady when he took his first set of vitals, Jisung made an effort to remain composed. He worked very hard to carry out your instructions precisely because he wanted to impress you. His hand slipped, though, and the cuff tightened too quickly just as he was ready to take a blood pressure measurement. When he fumbled with the stethoscope and knocked off the blood pressure cuff, the patient was shocked and sat up abruptly.

Shocked, Jisung blurted out, "I'm so sorry." "I didn’t mean to—" Your patience was already starting to run thin, so you let out a little sigh. "Jisung, you have to focus. This is what you've been trained for. Your nervousness shouldn't get in the way.” His face flushed slightly as he nodded. Although you weren't directly rude, your tone was very cutting. While he had only just begun, he was already making mistakes in front of you.

Later, in an effort to prove that he could manage the more challenging responsibilities, Jisung jumped in too soon when you were helping a patient move from their bed to a chair. He almost caused the patient to lose their balance since he miscalculated their level of mobility. "Jisung!" you yelled, protecting the patient from falling. Your tone was sharper than usual and you were obviously frustrated. "What were you thinking?”

Jisung's cheeks were burning. His words wouldn't come out, but he wanted to clarify that he was only trying to help. In his mind, he had failed miserably.

With a stutter, he said, "I—I just wanted to make sure everything was smooth," hardly meeting your eyes.

With a quick sigh, you squeezed the bridge of your nose. "You are not here to brag; you are here to learn. And ask for help if you're not sure."

Jisung nodded, his confidence fading away by the second. He thought he was an idiot. It always seemed to end badly when he tried to impress you. You left him in charge of seeing a few patients during your lunch break. Jisung made an effort to pay attention strictly to your instructions, but he was still having trouble. He accidentally knocked over a tray of medication when visiting a patient's room to see how they were doing, causing a mess all over the floor.

When you got there, he was crouching on the floor, frantically trying to collect the pills back into their bottles. "Are you kidding me?" you whispered to yourself. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you stopped yourself. It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying—he was just... constantly messing up. Jisung looked up at you and repeated, "I'm so sorry," in a tiny voice. "I’ll... I’ll clean it up."

Right now, you didn't have the energy to show kindness. You knelt beside him and helped him finish gathering up the pills, saying quietly, "It's okay." But you couldn't get rid of the gnawing annoyance. It was beginning to seem like his inexperience would make your day even more difficult, even though you knew it wasn't entirely his fault. The remainder of the shift followed the same pattern: Jisung made a lot of effort but was never successful. You were growing increasingly irritated as the day went on. Every mistake served as a reminder of his true lack of help, and you realized that you were becoming less helpful to him than you should have been.

You were worn out by the end of the day, and Jisung seemed to be as well. Even though he was still trying to keep himself composed, you could see how his shoulders drooped and his eyes averted from yours whenever you talked. "All right, Jisung. Before we wrap up, let's go over everything," you stated, sounding less patient than you had at the beginning of the day.

"okay," he mumbled.

You bit back a sigh. You didn’t want to be harsh, but it was getting harder not to be. When you looked at him, his gaze was downcast, almost as if he were apologizing for existing. You felt a pang of guilt, but your frustration was louder.

"You need to be more careful tomorrow," you said sharply. "And stop trying so hard to impress me. Just... focus on learning, alright?"

Jisung nodded quickly, his face flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, of course. I—I’ll do better."

As you both clocked out, the shift ended in an uncomfortable silence. Jisung seemed to shrink even more under the weight of his failures, and you couldn’t help but feel the distance growing between you two.

You hated that it felt this way, but you didn’t know how to fix it, either. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Or maybe not.

Either way, it felt like you both had a long road ahead.

—

The hospital was bustling, the air thick with the usual sense of urgency. Jisung was trying his hardest to keep up, but it seemed like every step he took just led him to another mistake. He could feel the weight of your eyes on him every time he did something wrong.

Today was no different. You had asked him to distribute medications to a few patients, a task that should’ve been routine, but his hands were shaking. He double-checked the names, he double-checked the meds—yet his nerves made everything feel ten times harder. He’d just graduated, and he was still struggling to get his footing. He didn’t want to mess up, especially not in front of you.

When Jisung reached a patient's room, he hesitated for a split second, but then quickly handed over the medication, thinking he had everything under control. The patient took the pill without hesitation, but there was something off about the whole exchange. The medication seemed to be for a completely different patient. He hadn’t double-checked properly. He’d gotten distracted.

By the time you came into the room, it was too late.

"Jisung!" you snapped, your tone piercing and brimming with anger. "What the hell are you doing? It's the wrong medication!” Eyes wide, he froze. The patient was confused, but you took action right away to clear the air. Damage had already been done when you hurried to get the medication and ensure the patient's safety.

"Why do I continue struggling with everything by myself?” With a loud voice that was a mixture of despair and rage, you went on, "Are you really going to keep making these simple mistakes?" "If you’re just going to mess everything up, maybe you should get out of the way and let someone else do the job properly."

He knew that the remarks were meant to shake him into action, yet they still pierced him. Still, Jisung felt small at the time. He was unable to look you in the eye. He muttered, "I—I'm sorry," but you were already turning to leave, your body seething in frustration.

The remainder of the day was a blur of mistakes, each one getting worse. Jisung had trouble focusing on anything. He was certain that he wasn't suited for this job and that he was failing at everything. He made a lot of attempts to gain your approval, but each time he failed, he made matters worse.

You assigned him a different nurse to shadow by the afternoon. When you said, "Go work with Felix today," you were abrupt. "Maybe you’ll do better with him."

Jisung's heart fell.

Although Felix was nice, it was obvious that you had had enough of him because he was now being removed from your supervision. Trying to hide his disappointment, he nodded and went with Felix to the next patient room.

Felix had just as much experience as you did, if not more. In contrast to your direct, no-nonsense approach, he was patient and kind to Jisung. With his constant smiles, jokes, and easy explanations, he helped Jisung feel a little more comfortable. Nevertheless, the feeling that everything was falling apart continued.

You were on your way to the break room when you heard a low voice talking to someone as you passed the staff lounge. "Are you okay?" Felix's tone was polite and warm as he asked. In an attempt to mask what was happening, Jisung sniffed. "Yeah, just... it’s been a rough day." After a brief period of silence, Felix gently asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jisung sighed deeply before his voice broke. "I just feel like I've ruined everything. Like I'm not worthy." Felix was silent for a while. A chair began to rustle, and soon Felix's voice could be heard once more. "You're new to this. Making mistakes is normal. But seem to be way too hard on yourself. What's happening?” Jisung hesitated, his words barely heard above a murmur. "I just wanted to show her that i was capable. I thought... I thought she was really nice. I thought she was pretty, too. I wanted to show her I could do this, you know? But everything I’ve done today, I’ve screwed up. I feel like I’ve let her down."

Felix's voice became even softer. "I know she's hard on you, Jisung, but it's not because she doesn't believe you can succeed. She knows you can, which is why she is pushing you. Don't be so hard on yourself. We've all been in your position. even her.” Trying not to cry, Jisung sniffed once more. "I just have the feeling that I might not be meant for this. I keep failing, even though I wanted to show her that I could manage it.” You were still while you stood in the hallway. As you listened to him, your heart hurt. He was just putting in a lot of effort. You were oblivious of the amount of pressure he had to put on himself to live up to your expectations. You hadn’t realized how much your sharp words were hurting him.

He wasn’t just a clumsy new nurse trying to find his footing—he was someone who admired you, someone who wanted to prove he could be more than just a rookie.

You stood there for a long moment, conflicted. You didn’t want to intrude, but at the same time, you knew that this was a moment for you to act. But you didn’t step into the room. You just quietly continued with your day, letting the weight of his words sit with you.

The next morning, you woke up early, a quiet resolve settling over you. You couldn’t just let the previous day end the way it did. You had been too harsh on Jisung, and it wasn’t just the mistake he’d made. It was your reaction to it.

You grabbed a coffee on your way into the hospital, thinking of how to apologize. You’d never been one to be overly sentimental, but this felt different. This wasn’t about him being a bad nurse—it was about you, and how you’d let your frustration cloud your better judgment.

When you got there, Jisung was seated at the nurse's station, nervously shuffling papers with his head down. He appeared to have had little sleep, and you felt guilty once more. With your coffee in hand, you approached him and placed it silently on the counter in front of him. Startled, Jisung blinked up at you. With hesitation in his voice, he questioned, "What’s this?"

"A coffee," you replied plainly, your eyes gentle. Then you put a little note beside it. Despite your inability to find the correct words, you managed to write something that seemed sincere:

I’m sorry about yesterday. You're doing good. Don't give up and don't be scared to ask for help when you need it. You're not alone. [y/n]

You said nothing else. You simply turned to go, but as you did so, you could feel his eyes on you, looking at you with a mix of appreciation and confusion.

—

After the coffee incident, everything felt different in the days that followed. You and Jisung's interactions had a slight change. Although Jisung first appeared hesitant, he immediately accepted your apologies with a small, shy smile. Because of the decreased tension between you two, you realized that you were more understanding of him, particularly when he was having trouble. You were actively working to further his potential, even though it wasn't like you hadn't seen it before. He cared about doing his work well, and it was evident that he wanted to get better. There existed a part of you that valued that.

Jisung was given a particularly challenging patient one morning—an elderly man who was rude and demanding. All morning, he had acted aggressively toward the staff, refusing to take his medication and making disparaging remarks about the standard of care. Jisung appeared to be struggling to control the situation as he still tried to get the hang of things. When the patient shouted louder, you could see his shoulders hunch and his eyes dart to you for support. You said softly, "Hey, it's okay," as you approached Jisung. "I'll take over for a while with Mr. Kim. You go out to take a break.”

Jisung paused, obviously attempting to manage things on his own, but as you looked at him encouragingly, he nodded appreciatively. You took charge of the situation gently as you entered the room in a composed, commanding manner. You recognized the patient's difficulties while simultaneously speaking in a respectful manner. You had mastered the delicate balance over the years, but Jisung was clearly still learning how to do it.

After a few minutes, the patient’s tone softened, and he grudgingly accepted his medication.

Once you were out of the room, Jisung gave you a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, I... I didn’t know how to handle him. He was just so... rude."

"You’ll get there," you reassured him. "It’s all part of the learning process. You don’t have to take it personally when they’re like that."

Jisung looked a little more confident, and you could see a sense of relief in his expression. "I’ll try not to next time."

"Good," you said, giving him a small pat on the shoulder. "But don’t forget—if you’re ever in doubt, don’t hesitate to ask for help."

It wasn’t just the patient encounters that changed, though. You started to make more of an effort to help him with the technical aspects of nursing as well. Whether it was giving him feedback on his charting, offering tips on patient interaction, or even just showing him how to use equipment more efficiently, you took the time to mentor him with more patience than before.

One afternoon, during a break, you pulled Jisung aside. You weren’t sure what had made you want to do this, but you felt like it was time.

"Jisung," you said softly, taking a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you for a second."

He looked up at you, a little startled. "Yeah? Is everything okay?"

You exhaled, feeling the weight of your previous actions. "I’ve been thinking a lot about how I treated you when you first started. And I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry. I wasn’t fair to you, and I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I’ve been tough on you, and I feel terrible about it."

Jisung’s eyes softened immediately, and he gave a small, understanding smile. "It’s okay. Really. I... I know I’ve been messing up a lot, and I get it. I think you were just frustrated. I get it."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you. "I don’t want you to feel like you’re not doing well. You are doing well, Jisung. You’re just new, and it’s okay to make mistakes. I should’ve supported you better."

His smile widened a little. "Thank you. I really appreciate it. And... I’m sorry too, for messing up so much. I want to be better."

You nodded, smiling back at him. "You are better. Every day you get better."

As the weekend approached, you found yourself getting more comfortable around Jisung. He wasn’t just a trainee anymore; he was someone you could talk to, someone you actually enjoyed working with. There was still that initial spark of admiration you’d felt for him, but now it was tempered by mutual respect.

That Friday, as the end of your shift neared, you threw out an invitation you hadn’t planned on making but had been thinking about all day.

You looked over at him and said, "Hey, a bunch of us are going to the bar after work," "Usually, Felix and I go with a few other nurses. Do you want to join us?” Jisung's eyes became a little wider. "Oh! Yes, of course, I would love to.” You said, "Good," with a tiny smile on your lips. "It will be fun. You deserve a break.”

That evening, you found yourself at the small bar that all the nurses and hospital staff frequented after shifts. The atmosphere was laid-back, a welcome contrast to the chaos of the hospital. You, Jisung, Felix, and a couple of other nurses sat around a table, talking about everything but work. The drinks flowed freely, laughter echoed around the room, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to relax.

You discovered you had a lot in common with Jisung, who was unexpectedly easy to talk to outside of work. You realized how much you two had in common. you both loved music, and you shared some of your favorite songs with him. He was interested in photography, something you had experimented with when you were younger. You even shared stories about awkward childhood experiences and your shared passion for late-night snacking.

You two realized at the end of the night that you had been talking for hours on end without even realizing how quickly the time had passed. Everyone had gone home, leaving the two of you standing outside the bar in a comfortable silence.

"I had a great time," Jisung said, his voice quiet but sincere. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Yeah, me too," you replied, your heart unexpectedly fluttering. "I’m glad you came."

He hesitated for a moment, then, asked "Can I... walk you to your car? I mean, since it’s pretty late and all."

You smiled back, a little surprised by the gesture, but it felt nice. "Sure."

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments before stopping in front of your car. Jisung looked at you, his expression soft but uncertain, and you could see the faintest trace of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Thanks for tonight," he said, his voice a little lower now, as if unsure of what to say next.

You tilted your head, feeling the moment shift, something that had been building all night, maybe even all week. You weren’t sure why, but in that instant, you felt drawn to him in a way you hadn’t expected. You leaned in, your movements slow and deliberate, and before you knew it, your lips brushed against his in a brief but meaningful kiss.

Jisung’s breath hitched slightly, and when you pulled away, you both looked at each other, surprised by the tenderness of the moment.

"Goodnight, Jisung," you said softly, smiling a little more than you expected to.

"Goodnight," he replied, his voice almost shy, but there was a warmth in his smile that made your heart skip a beat.

As you got into your car, you couldn’t help but think about the way the night had unfolded. Maybe things had changed between you and Jisung in more ways than just professionally. Maybe it wasn’t just a mentor-mentee relationship anymore.

—

nini’s notes 111324

hello everyone (: i hope you’re all doing super well.

i hope you enjoy this, i was never going to post because i didn’t know how to end it so the ending is definitely/feels rushed so sorry about that 😭. this was originally supposed to be kind of a love triangle thing between jisung, reader, and chan but i didn’t end up liking how it was turning out :>

this was inspired by a snippet of the new show st. denis medical i actually haven’t had time to watch it yet but i heard that it’s really good & accurate. Lol.

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

[yagiichan]

cod x fem!reader EDC Week

cod x fem!reader

cod members reaction to you when they first see you out of your tactical gear, and you’re actually dressed up for EDC.

Warning: mentions of smut, 18+ Minors DNI, language. Mentions of breeding.

A/N: EDC literally just happened in my city, and I’ve been into the COD x reader stories recently. It’s not going to be anything impressive, but I hope ya’ll like it. Again, this is my HC for whatever reason. IDK, I don’t really make sense to myself neither, so don’t @ me. :3 This is also my first time posting on tumblr, so please be nice.

FYI I do not know a whole lot of lore, I’m just here for the fun of it, so please do not flame me for any inaccurate/unplausible storytelling I am about to convey.

P.S. I drew the design of the dress, but I referenced an image on pinterest. I apologize as I do not know the original artist for the figure.

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

Chatter amongst the operatives broke out, as everyone began filing out of the room, from another long debriefing. You were new to the squad, and just barely began speaking to anyone. Layered in heavy combat armor, and face covered with a balaclava and dark round shades every time you’re on base. You don’t like it when people gawk at you, especially when conducting professional business.

You find it easier when you’re covered up. People treated you like a normal soldier, rather than a piece of meat. Though, doesn’t really stop the flirtatious comments coming from your companions.

Soap would linger sometimes, making fun little passes, “What’ve you got hidin’ under there, bird?” You’d laugh him off and just tell him nothing he’d be interested in. He’d quip back “Bet there’s loads I can find interesting, dove…” You continue to laugh, making your way down the dim hallway. The other members, following behind. Gaz would chime in with a “knock-it-off” comment every now and then, but he was just as curious how you’d look too.

Pretty much, everyone has seen one another, considering how long they’ve been enlisted together, so it’s no surprise that fresh meat would immediately attract the attention of wolves.

Ghost, Konig, and Horangi followed from behind, watching you laugh.

“What’s the fresh meat good at anyways?” Ghost asked nonchalantly. Horangi shrugged his shoulders, with a soft “mm-mm”. Konig shook his head at the both of them “Hand-to-hand combat and reconnaissance. Apparently, she’s managed to close the distance on the Captain and threw him straight into the wall.” Ghost scoffed, attempting to burn a hole in the back of your skull. “She is? Look at her” he pointed with his chin, “A literal fuckin’ gnome is what she is.” Horangi chortled a little bit, Konig staying silent.

Price picking up on their conversation, cleared his throat, “You’ll see in due time lads. Someone like that can be the least expected.”

“So, since it’s the start of the weekend why don’t we start with a bang and head down to the pub for a fill?”

 Soap suggested eagerly. The week prior had been incredibly taxing, so everyone was privy to the idea, besides you.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. I’ve actually got plans this weekend,” you sheepishly laughed. Soap whined, prodding you on what your plans are. You didn’t budge, only that it was already planned some time ago and you can’t miss you. Despite the constant badgering, Soap deflated in defeat, as Gaz patted his back. Despite the initial rejection, Soap bounced back almost immediately.

Chatting away with you, talking about coming out with them another time. You laughed along, apologizing that you couldn’t attend now, but promised to meet in the future.

Making your way towards your apartment complex on base, you noticed everyone else also shuttling into the freight elevator with you. You tilted your head in confusion, queueing Price,

“Well, we all share the same apartment complex. Compliment of the base we currently reside on. Wants to make sure we’re on the ready for when things go down.”

 You slowly nodded in understanding. You clicked your floor number, 10 and noticed that nobody else clicked a floor number besides 14. You looked at Price again, who sheepishly explained that squads are assigned to their own floors. That, since you’re now part of their operation, you’ll probably need to get the changes made soon.

“S’pparently supposed to bring us ‘closer’, build a bond with one another?”

You hummed in acknowledgement, thinking it was cute, “Yeah, I suppose it makes sense.” Chatter continued, until you reached your floor. Getting off, you said your goodnights to everyone. Soap continued to moan, hoping to get a glimpse of you at some point. Gaz agreeing, and Price chuckling at them.

The brooding bunch discussed themselves the best bar to pick from for the night. As the elevator finally reached their floor Soap clapped his hands together “Welp! How’s bout we all meet up again in an hour aye? Freshen up a lil bit. Maybe catch us a pretty bird tonight,” wiggling his eyebrows with the suggestion.

Sighing at Soap’s obvious desperation everyone agreed to meet in the hallway before heading down to the pub.

“Right! Now, let’s get this party started!” Soap howled, looking like he pregame’d before meeting up with the crew.

Everyone had transferred themselves into fresher clothing, finally peeling away the grime of the week. Excitement slowly brews in the group as they can finally wind down for the weekend. Although everyone had changed into more comfortable attire, the three brooding bunch kept their visages concealed.  All members shuffling into the freight elevator, chattering happily amongst themselves.

As the freight elevator begins its slow descent towards the ground floor, it suddenly stops at floor 10. Voices begin to hush as the door slowly slides open, revealing a woman with a high slit dress, stopping at the waist. Four thin black bands wrapped around strong thighs.

Her upper torso covered with black cloth besides the diamond cut pattern, exposing her breasts with dangerous allure. Her lower face covered by a black cloth that looked infused with the rest of the dress, leaving only her eyes visible, and hair to flow freely.

The unknown woman continued to adjust herself, before looking up into the elevator, capturing the eyes of every man on board.

----

Your eyes gleamed with happiness, pulling your mask down, smiling brightly at the lot.

“Hey team!” You chirped.

Silence.

“Heading out to the pub now?”

More silence. Eyes continued to stare you down. Not sure what to make of who you are. You started to feel awkward. Not realizing that this is their first time seeing you, especially like this.

“Erm… well then, off we go…? Heh…” you laughed nervously, with the door sliding closed once more, and the lift beginning its descent once more.

The ride down was silent and awkward, at least for the men. You just continued to tap away at your phone, not a care in the world, making plans to meet your friend at the festival entrance.

“(Y/N)?? Is that you?” Gaz piped up, still inspecting you from head to toe. You turned towards Gaz, nodding your head and smiling.

“Suppose this is the first time you guys have seen me outside of my Michelin Man outfit huh?”

You laughed at your own joke, not ever noticing the way their eyes grew hungrier by the second.

You never noticed the way Price stood just a little bit closer, in hopes of accidentally bumping into you. He’d blame it on how crowded the elevator was.

You never noticed the way Soap suddenly started spilling all over his words. His face slowly heating up with every time you laughed at his silly antics.

You never noticed the way Gaz was literally, so star struck, only nodding and laughing at whatever you were saying.

You never noticed the way Ghost suddenly stood up a little straighter, rather than leaning towards the rail of the elevator, trying to make himself look taller. More attractive for you.

Or the way Horangi adjusted his glasses every now and then to make sure you don’t catch him staring at you.

Or the way Konig began to fidget anxiously, staring intently at your being, hands held together to hide something that slowly began to rage in his pants. He was sweating profusely.

“Konig?” you questioned, staring up at the hulking 6’10” man.

Shit.

“Are you alright? You’re sweating up a storm.” Everyone began to turn towards him, suddenly finding himself embarrassed. With a few ‘legit’ coughs Konig spoke.

“Just need some air s’all.” He played it off way too cool. The others glared at him with jealousy when you showed concern for him. Konig, though his face not visible to others, smiled a triumphant smile under his facemask.

You smiled brightly at him, breathing a sigh of relief, tugging at his heartstrings even more. Glances were stolen every now and then by your team members. Assessing your body, and trying to determine if it’s the trick of the light, or your thighs are just that delicious. Toned, large, and ready to crush heads.

Oh, how they wished to have their heads between your legs. To have that pretty black dress lifted over their heads, and to hear your sweet voice calling out their names in ecstasy. Your hair sticking to your skin, drenched in the sweat and tears of your pheromones.

To watch the rise and fall of your heaving chest, as your honey coats their face and tongues. Once you’ve had your high, the dress comes off and you smile that bright smile at them, hands cupping their faces whisper-begging.

“Come here, darling… Come to me. I need you, so badly.” You’d pant out, with tears in your eyes, and a wobbly smile on your face, just begging to be ravaged by them. To be pumped with their loads.

Oh, they all wanted you, and you didn’t even know it.

The ride down felt like forever, until the soft ding of elevator is heard throughout, indicating your destination of the ground floor.

----

“So, where are you heading, dressed up like this?” Price inquired.

“EDC. It’s going on for 3 days, but I’ll only be going for two.” You stated excitedly.

“EDC? Wassall that then hen?” Now Soap asking the questions.

“It’s just a music festival. Electric Dance Carnival. Been dying to go, and since we’re out here I wanted to take the chance.” You informed the bunch. They all walked along side you, the rest in silence as Soap continued his barrage of questions.

“Oh, but I won’t be getting insanely lit or anything like that! It’s just an opportunity is all! I’m meeting some friends.” You corrected yourself, not wanting to have your team think you’re some sort of degenerate (hehe).

As you continued to happily chat away, your taxi pulled up. Bounding towards the door you turn back towards your fellow soldiers, not missing a beat.

“Ay, be safe, okay? If you need anything, don’t hesitate to phone me.” You chirped once more.

“Anyways, I’m off then! Be seeing you around!” You waved as you got into your taxi, driving away into the city.

----

Sitting around a table, with a dimly lit light hanging above them, Ghost groaned at the thought of phoning you to let you know that he isn’t feeling well. That he might need some of that ‘comfort’ you were giving to Konig earlier. Felt kind of sweaty. Might need you to take care of him, if you get what I’m laying down.

Price, Konig, and Horangi sat around the table, watching Gaz and Soap playing rounds of pool, but not really committing to it. Something on their mind, pretty sure knowing what, or who, it could be.

“If I died tomorrow, I’d want it to be those thighs wrapped around my head.” Soap dreamt, leaning on his pole.

“Yeah, no shit. Wasn’t expecting any of that. Reckon I’d begin howling at the moon just to have a bite.” Gaz chuckled.

Eyes snapped up at the duo, and then at each other.

Price laid a hefty pat on Ghosts shoulder, reminding him of his comment earlier.

“Still not what you were expecting, weren’t you lad?”  laughing heartily. Ghost grunted at his comment, as did Horangi and Konig.

“I… must admit… I too, was not expecting such a treat tonight.” Horangi shuttered with each word. Konig nodded vigorously.

Still fantasizing about your worry over him. Fretting over his comfort. He was already fantasizing about your wedding. The life you’ll lead together. Breeding you up with his young, having you cry under his weight, with your legs wrapped tightly around him as he drilled his throbbing member deep into your core. Konig shuttered at the thought.

“I’m going to make her mind” Konig stated out of the blue. Suddenly, all eyes snapped at him. Flashes of competitiveness and want evident on everyone’s face. Now, everyone was vying for your affection. And you didn’t even have an inkling of an idea that any of this was going down.

----

I hope ya’ll liked my story. It’s probably all over the place, and that’s okay. It was something I’ve been needing to get out of my system. Something I can go back to when I’m feeling that little itch.  I may build on this for our individual heroes. IDK.

[ghouldump]

(sending this again because i think tumblr deleted it!)

loustat x reader, and reader at the time is the only mortal in their relationship until reader privately asks louis to turn her (can be gn, i mainly read fem!reader stuff) into a vampire so she can commit herself to them eternally, louis says no in order of protecting her, they argue a bit before she agrees and a few days later lestat finds out and he does it for her and louis is not happy. even though he wanted her to stay innocent he still wanted to be her maker

and if u want u can take it from there :)

All I Ask Of You | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ when lestat takes matters into his own hands, leaving louis to sit in his regret of not complying with your wishes.

i will be booked and busy tomorrow, so the bulk of post will be up on saturday, i hope you can accept this for now, my lovelies 🤲🩷

“Please, Louis”

“I told you, my answer is no,” he raised his voice, turning away from you. How could you ask him for such a thing? He and Lestat promised to fulfill your every desire, but not this, not when you had so much to live for.

“Fine,” you had been trying for days now to get him to comply, but he wouldn't budge.

“Don’t be like that, it is for the-

“For the best, I know, I heard you the first time, listen, I can’t stay tonight, could you tell Les for me?” you asked, already headed towards the door before he could speak. You refused to cry in front of him, swinging open the door of the townhouse, just as Lestat was entering the gate.

“Ma ch-

“I’m in a rush, Louis will explain,” you pulled away from his reach, leaving him to stare bewildered at your figure becoming more distant. He wanted to question what happened while he was away, but as he began to open his mouth, something about the gloom in Louis’s eyes kept him from speaking.

“She has errands,” he mumbled, as Lestat nodded.

Silently, he followed behind Louis locking up the house as they prepared for sunrise. He wasn’t sure what he’d missed, but he was determined to find out, soon enough.

“Y/n, are you sure you’re alright darling?” Your mother asked as she leaned against the counter watching as you helped put away the leftovers from dinner.

“Yes, why?”

“You never come home, and now you’re here. Not only that, we’re going on day 3, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I can’t miss home?” you frowned.

“I didn’t say that, it’s just that it seemed like you were never leaving New Orleans, it’s been months and you’re only an hour away,” she explained. There wasn't a proper way to tell her, or your father, that you had fallen in love with two vampires, one being a few decades older, while the other — a few centuries.

“I’m sorry, I’ll visit more often,” you told her, watching as she smiled, going to pull you into a hug.

“Good, your father and I get so lonely”

“You should move to New Orleans, get out of Covington, and live a little,” you laughed.

“Absolutely not, this is home, I’ll take it from here, you go ahead and get ready for bed,” she waved you off.

“Goodnight,” you said, as she kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight sweet pea,” she called as you walked down the hall, going to your old bedroom.

Entering the room, you inhaled the vanilla aroma, as your mind drifted to your lovers. Only three days and you already felt sick to your stomach. You wondered if they missed you as much as you missed them. You told your roommate to simply tell them you were out of town if they showed up at your apartment, but you weren't sure how much longer you could continue with this.

Going to the connected bathroom, you filled the bathtub with warm water. Staring into the water, your mind drowned with regret. You had been so inconsiderate to Louis, expecting him to take on such a big responsibility. 

“Louis,” you moaned breathlessly, as he kissed along your collarbone.

“I want you to turn me,” you said, the oxygen seemingly getting caught in your throat, as he stopped, before pulling away from you.

“Where is this coming from?” he asked, his voice comforting, as he sat up, trying to concentrate on your thoughts.

“I love you both and I want to give myself to you and Lestat, forever, from this point on,” you vowed to him.

“Y/n, you don't know what you're saying, you are amazing, everything is perfect the way it is-

“Until I begin to age, and become decrepit, please Louis, become my maker, as Lestat is yours”

“You don't realize how precious life is until it is no longer in your reach. I can't do this to you, I can't take away your life when you have so much purpose,” he told you, wiping your tears as you began to cry.

Turning off the faucet, you huffed, roughly wiping the tears from your eyes. The fact that you were crying over him telling you no made you feel adolescent compared to the two. Tossing your clothing into the hamper, your muscles tensed before relaxing, as you submerged into the warm water. 

Laying back, you closed your eyes, relishing in the therapeutic sensation. Humming in relief, you focused on clearing your mind. You would only stay here a few more days before you headed home. You had built a life in New Orleans and you wouldn't leave it behind, and you certainly had no intentions of closing this chapter of your life with Louis or Lestat, over this situation.

Feeling a cool breeze across the water, you crossed your legs, shifting to feel the warmth, with your eyes still shut. Only a few minutes passed before the chilling fingertips brushed against your skin, causing you to open your eyes, sitting up. Looking around, you didn't see a person as you sighed, laying back again, closing your eyes.

“How we’ve missed you,” Lestat spoke, making you jump, but quickly relaxed as he reassuringly massaged your shoulders.

Standing behind you, he crouched down, kissing along your neck, licking away the water droplets, while you held back your moan.

“Louis isn't here,” he answered your thoughts before you could ask.

“He says you're upset with him, but won't say why,” he said, his large hands rubbing down your abdomen into the warm water.

“No, he should be upset with me,” you sat up, abruptly, facing him.

“Do tell why?” he smirked. 

“I asked him to turn me…into a vampire,” you said, your face burning in shame.

“And he said no-

“He is only trying to protect me, I didn't understand but I do now,” you said, unable to meet his eyes.

“But that isn't what you want, chèrie, is it?” he asked, as the waterworks began to pour. Shaking your head, as you finally met his eyes.

“I want an eternity with the two of you, the thought of me getting old and you both becoming a distant memory, if I even remember, it scares me, could I even live a normal life ever again, after sharing my heart with the two of you,” you said, as he stood up straight, reaching for the soft towel. Using his free hand, he helped you stand, wrapping the towel around your frame, before leading you out of the bathroom.

“You wanted Louis to change you, to allow him to experience what I have given him, but this is just as sentimental. Giving the gift to two extraordinary souls who I love greatly, would you like that, chèrie?” He asked, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Yes, please,” you admitted embarrassingly.

“Do you vow to only love Louis and I, for an eternity? Forever is a very long time, go ahead, answer in the presence of God,” he motioned to the crucifix hanging on your wall.

“I do,” you nodded earnestly.

“Then you will be my fledgling, with my blood running through your veins,” he said, swiftly pulling you into his arms, before his fangs were out, plunging into your soft skin. You could feel your body weakening as he drained your blood, before he finally pulled away. Biting into his wrist, he soon placed it against your mouth.

“Drink,” he instructed, his eyes full of endearment as you moaned at the taste of his blood. You had licked your own wound as a child and the taste of iron was nothing worth comparing to his blood, you almost couldn’t stop, until he pulled his arm away.

“Thank you Les,” you said tiredly, as he grinned, kissing your neck, before sitting your limp body on the bed. Walking away, he became to boredly pack your things. He knew his intuition was correct, you had been wanting this for a while now and he had a feeling it started nearly three months back, when you asked if you could join them, as they hunted.

Watching you closely, as you sat up, hurling onto the floor, you clutched your stomach in agony. Groaning, you began to vomit on the floor, chills all over your body. Lestat neatly placed everything in your suitcase, going to zip it. Noticing your quietness, his smirk widened, as you now stood unfazed, the towel covering the vomit, as you stood nude with poise. Your new eyes and nails catching his attention, you certainly were a beautiful vampire.

“You look like perfection,” he approached you.

“I feel like…perfection”

“Let us find your first hunt, as you know with Louis’s situation, staying here won’t be possible, with your new life,” he said, as you nodded, going to grab clothing from the luggage, while looking for a pen and paper — leaving your mom a random excuse for why you had to leave.

“Do you think Louis will be mad at us?”

“Very”

“You have to suck not bite,” Lestat said, holding down your victim, as you straddled the guys lap, your fangs deep in his neck. You had made it back to New Orleans and the first thing Lestat took you to do was find your first meal. You were a natural, as you intentionally looked through the selection of people. When finally, you chose some creep, he was a bad man and you felt you were doing a bit of justice, ridding the world of such garbage.

Suddenly the front door opened, there was a few footsteps before he spoke, “What the fuck is going on?” Louis asked confusedly. Pulling away from the man, he tried screaming, begging for help, when Lestat snapped his neck.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” He asked you, as you bashfully nodded.

“Y/n,” Louis called out. Slowly facing him, you smiled, blood dripping down your mouth.

“Hi Louis”

“You turned her, now why the hell would you do that?” He yelled at Lestat.

“She wanted this, would you have preferred she stumbled across another vampire-

“I would have preferred you left her as she was,” Louis argued.

“I wanted this Louis, he was only helping-

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/n, you weren’t ready, and you took advantage of her ignorance,” he screamed as Lestat sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Louis, I wanted this for more than anything, to be alongside you both, an eternity together-

“Don’t you think I know what you want, I’ve heard your thoughts, it doesn’t change the fact that it was not smart. You just threw away everything, your family, your friends, life, you’re dead now, and there is no going back,” he said, as you hesitantly climbed from the limp body. His tone brought an uneasiness to your heart, your eyes stinging.

“All I wanted, all I thought I wanted, was to be with you and Lestat. I can’t see myself with anyone else, but I’m sorry, please don’t be angry with Lestat,” you said, the dark blood leaking from your eyes. Lestat reached for you, but you moved, walking out to the backyard.

“Are you seriously that angry, Louis, how long did you expect her to wait?” Lestat asked.

“Why did you do it? She didn’t have to be turned into this,” Louis shook his head, glancing in the direction of the backyard. Regretting how harsh he sounded, as he spoke to you.

“Louis, you can still protect her as a vampire, I know you only wanted to look out for her, but she wanted the gift, she chose to love us over her parents and friends, she was worthy,” Lestat said.

“I was too harsh to her,” Louis mumbled.

“Then you should be apologizing to her, and thanking me for making yet another beautiful fledgling,” Lestat smirked.

“She is beautiful, you did good,” Louis nodded.

“Again?”

“Again,” he laughed, sighing as Lestat approached him, pulling him into a hug, placing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Go now”

Louis hesitantly walked outside, stopping in his tracks, seeing you sit in the grass. Looking up at the bright moon. Clenching his jaw, he forced his legs to move, before he sat next to you, watching your side profile.

“The moon looks nice tonight,” he spoke up.

“It does, doesn’t it. She glows so beautifully, the sun has no choice but to hide from her presence,” you said, your face unmoving from the sky.

“I apologize for how I spoke to you, I want you forever, both of us do. I’m more angry with Lestat than you”

“Don’t be upset with Les, please, he knew I wanted this, and I think it was only a matter of time, before I was begging him next,” you explained.

“I think I’m more angry about the fact that he changed you, and not me,” he said, grinning as you finally looked at him.

“I thought I was protecting you, keeping you from our world, when you fit so perfectly in it — I wish I would have gone through with it,” he admitted.

“It is okay, really, as long as I’m with you both, I am happy,” you said, reaching for his hands.

“Is there anything I can do, to make up for this…”

“Love me, your love is all I ask of you,” you said, accepting his kiss.

“I feel quite excluded, where are my kisses?” Lestat spoke, as he stepped outside.

“If you come any closer, you may end up with more than a kiss, both of you, I feel like the happiest girl alive,” you said, as he moved to the grass, kissing along your neck.

“Then we are starting our eternity together on the right track”

[riversidekid]

[jamessunderlandgf]

—OCS AND VILLAIN SONGS

hey what’s up you guys welcome back to my channel— i did this post on my old blog ages ago which is unfortunately lost to time now and i wanted to do it again. so this has gotta be like, the third time some of y’all are seeing this but. fuck it we ball.

born from a post made by @unholymilf a loooong time ago that as more or less a question of if ur oc was a boss fight, what song would be playing and it struck me so here is ALL of my brain worms, including some new ones from the last post!

ANDIE— le soleil est près de moi; air.

POV: you’re bleeding out as andie is standing over you, burning white hot, hotter than the sun setting behind her. she is passionate and… reckless, and will swear this was self-defense. even if she struck first. even if she didn’t blink. even as she watches the life leave your body.

BIANCA— tricycle express; gaspard augé, mr. oizo.

POV: bianca is white knuckling her steering wheel, swiping her car against the side of your own for miles down the freeway. she is gonna run you off the road. she absolutely will; it’s unavoidable, and she’s gonna laugh while she’s doing it. this is the song she’s listening to.

CELESTE— vision; m83.

POV: “you will die soon. sooner than you were supposed to, now.” celeste deadpans as she hovers her hand over your forehead and waves. she makes a show of it, though her clairvoyance doesn’t require as much. you wish you had listened to her and thought better of asking in the first place. “it will be violent, and painful. give ares my best. leave my temple.” but you didn’t, and now it’s too late. your fate is sealed.

ELVIRA— old river; orville peck.

POV: you’re stiff, hairs on the back of your neck standing up. you’re being watched. this is a different kind of observation than the one you’re used to— the seeds constantly run surveillance on you, but this doesn’t feel as passive. you’re being hunted. and when you dare to turn on your heels to see elvira standing behind you with a crossbow bolt nocked with your name on it, you almost wish jacob was here to kill you instead. somehow, you know it would be more merciful.

OSLO— pennsylvania furnace; lingua ignota.

POV: oslo isn’t the deputy anymore. they’re the judge. eden’s gate is up a member who is worth a million and the resistance mourns a million more.

FAUSTINA— beyond the horizon; olivier deriviere.

POV: faustina is the last line of defense between you and the mother church. she’s a penitent, too, you must understand. the consecrated red ribbons she’s wrapped in are suffocating her the longer she takes to excommunicate you and she will try every prayer at her disposal to stop it—to stop you.

JEN— krack; soulwax.

POV: jen is chasing you through the fib building after she snitches on your whole operation to the iaa. you are an enemy of the state, but more importantly— you’re an enemy to agent jennifer daniels. she wants you dead, and you will be soon enough. especially if it’s up to her. and as of right now, she has you cornered in an interrogation room with nowhere to go and a gun to your head.

LOTTIE— arsonist’s lullabye; hozier.

POV: hawkins is ablaze, and lottie is at the scene of the crime staring into the flames.

LINDY— señor (tales of yankee power); jerry garcia.

POV: there’s barely anyone left to call a gang, and dutch knows as much. but he won’t admit it— that would require him admitting guilt for the losses, too. and he should be so lucky he’s still breathing; lindy wants to empty an entire revolver clip into his thick skull but knows she wouldn’t live long enough to feel the satisfaction. so she does the next best thing, and turns her back. there isn’t anything left for her, anyway. she would risk a lifetime of looking over her shoulder over having to look at him.

MAGS— change (in the house of flies); deftones.

POV: you’re being experimented on in an umbrella sanctioned lab and in walks mags— who you thought was on your side. after all, well fed devils behave better than famished saints. but not this one, she’s much worse.

MILDRED— god unbounded; uboa.

POV: you have just returned from the dead because some weirdo with a god complex and a proficiency in reanimating corpses decided that she needed the practice. and now that’s your problem, because you definitely have come back Wrong. but you’re back! surprise!

NICOLE— heart in a cage; the strokes.

POV: you’re witness to an absolute bloodbath as nicole goes crazy on the field. she’s completely lost herself, she isn’t in control anymore. she was always dangerous but now she’s lethal. she’s already gotten some of her own killed, and somebody needs to take her out before it gets worse. she’s a wild animal. and to her, you’re fresh meat.

SIBYL— summit song; nicole dollanganger.

POV: she drowns you in her scrying pool and you are never heard from again. it’s your own fault, really— anna henrietta told you to leave her be and you didn’t listen.

ROSALIND— goodbye; soap&skin, apparat.

POV: she begs mike for the coordinates of where it happened and he doesn’t budge. he never will. he doesn’t trust her not to take a shovel to the earth and dig him up. so in her state of delirium, she walks through the desert and screams and cries and repents. and becomes her own biggest villain.

ODETTE— graveyard; midnight syndicate.

POV: odette quite literally haunts her family estate, left to fall into disrepair. she’s a grief stricken wraith born of despair who brutally attacks anyone who dares step into her tomb. she’s a master illusionist even in death, so if you choose to fight her instead of just leaving, just make sure you first remove the mirrors from the wall.

okay whew that was a TASK but i’m gonna make this a tag game cs i wanna see Y’ALL make ur ocs evil and give them a soundtrack so hehe @florbelles @unholymilf @shellibisshe @ghostfvcker @benwishaw @loriane-elmuerto @leviiackrman @jackiesarch @rosayoro @statichvm @teamhawkeye @bloodofvalyria @red-nightskies @confidentandgood @simply-jason @scalpelsister @devilbrakers @lxmbert and you!

[alwayshappyhoursomewhere]

Cup of China 2023 - Adam Siao Him Fa and Shoma Uno during the men’s victory ceremony

[starlooove]

So which is it? Did Bruce treat everyone like that or was he only super mean to Steph bc of the writers? Like I’m tired of the excuses being made, if it was one and done whatever but the way Bruce treated steph did impact her story and then changing stephs personality to golden retriever blond doesn’t change that at all lmao

[crossbackpoke-check]

I have to ask about good dog bad dream <3

🥰🥰 oh i was HOPING for this one. ok so y’all may actually know a little bit already because it exists in the tags as tyler borzoituzzi but! good dog bad dream is the working document title/notes compilation for a fic that started with the premise of “well you see that’s actually not a dog that’s my blorbo from my hrpf shifter wolf au—”

and, because i have never formally addressed it or put it anywhere other than the tags, three important details about this fic:

this IS a semi-au fic about the detroit red wings, set vaguely in the 2018-19 season, because the wings sucked that year (but not as bad as 2019-20)

this is ALSO a fic that is mainly about tyler bertuzzi and dylan larkin, with some other wings thrown in because i've never met an ensemble i couldn't shove into a love story

this 100% exists because of mickey redmond calling tyler a junkyard dog every chance he gets and me every time going "okay but what if literally though" -> 🐺

[httpiastri]

Hi! I just read let's knock everyone's hats off and i loved it ❤️ just as someone who identifies as non binary, i just wanted to let you know that reader is described as daniel's girlfriend which is fine but the title saying it was a gender neutral reader, it caught me off guard so i was wondering if you could change it to fem!reader? I don't mean to be rude or cause harm and I really hope you won't read it like that because it isn't my intention at all, it's just a bit discouraging to think that i finally found a gender neutral fic for my fav driver and then to realize that it isn't really a gender neutral fic 😅 again I don't want to upset you or anything I just thought I'd let you know but you're of course free to delete this, I really hope you won't be offended, I assure it isn't my goal. Also sorry if english is a bit off, it isn't my first language 😭 anyway i did enjoy your writing and I hope you'll keep on writing, it was great ❤️

hello! thank you for your message. i’d like to say that i am really sorry for my mistake. i was really tired when i posted the danny blurb yesterday, and i had no energy to even come up with a title nor a summary (it still has no summary…..), so when i was gonna write the genre, pairing and such i just copied the one from another blurb. i must’ve forgotten in the moment that i had mentioned the reader as his girlfriend, so i just didn’t change it… you’re not rude or offensive or anything (and your english is great, don’t worry about it!), thank you pointing out the mistake so that i could fix it. again, i apologize!

thank you for your sweet words, hope you have a great day ❤️

[bakudekublogblog]

i hear you and I agree with everything you’re saying and I also miss izuku’s thoughts about kacchan but also izuku also looks at kacchan like this

It's horrible to be utterly convinced that Katsuki is in love with Izuku without really being able to say definitively that Izuku is in love with Katsuki...aghh there's so much to say about certain hints and very overt things for Mr. "Kacchan Bakugou" but I feel like I haven't seen...or more accurately heard how Izuku feels. I know he loves him but Is he in love with him? Can I say that without thinking I could be wrong? No I don't think I can...but damnit! The parallels to other straight and gay couples in media is so interesting like the Berserk ref in cover 37...or the pretty constant references to taro cards...Izuku the devil in between togachako's lovers ((WHAT DOES THAT MEAN SERIOUSLY)), the three of swords in the blackwhip explosion...the "WAH--CCHAN!!" ref to a romance trope as well as to Blue Flag...the "share a crepe with" line also potentially Blue Flag..."TROY" and the battle being referenced OUT THE WAZOO with Achilles and Patroclus playing out almost exactly as the Illid described ((Literally THE most famous couple of gaybos in all historical literature--they are well known for being speculative lovers! It's mentioned in English classes when you read it))...Katsuki's parents...Katsuki's parents...the way other manga like "name I can't remember..." where they would reference MHA outright with the girl falling down and then refusing to take the male lead's hand to get up. It feels like so much but also nothing at all because all of it (( no matter how overt)) is STILL being read into from subtext. idk I think I just needed to vent.

[fangirl-dot-com]

🧠Fake Amnesia

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fan!Reader Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU Summary: There was a saying that if you knew a celebrity existed, your chances of meeting them out and about decreased significantly. Is it true? No clue. But, you weren't about to let that stop you from finding Lando Norris in Imola.

*I am so so sorry for the very late and delayed chapter. I hope you all like it! I switched out this one to write it before the next as "Love Triangle" was supposed to come out first, but we've had a lot of Lestappen for now! But here we go!"

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Were you a bit stupid? 

Yes. Yes you were. Did you more money than your budget allowed just to get to Imola a few days early to possibly not even find Lando? You didn’t want to talk about it. 

But right now as you perused through the local shopping area, you didn’t take the time to really dwell on your past choices. Only finding Lando could save you now. Which that seemed like a faraway dream. 

Whatever that one reddit post said about having a higher chance of meeting a celebrity if you didn’t know them was absolute bullshit. You couldn’t go back in time to stop yourself from liking a thirst trap of Lando on TikTok. And now because of that, your chances of meeting the British driver seriously decreased. 

How on earth were you supposed to find one of the most popular men alive, on a race weekend, where everyone was already looking to spot the driver in a more relaxed setting? You had no clue. But the shopping center felt like a good idea. 

You had been drawn in by one of the jewelry sections, eyes glazing over the number of zeros that followed every first number. Your heart winced at the thought of even buying one. To be honest, you didn’t even know how you got into this mall in the first place. Everyone around you was dressed in the highest European fashion. 

Your outfit wasn’t terrible per say, but it didn’t reflect the Italian area either. You were wearing some cream baggy linen pants that matched the light orange top that you had thrown on after scrambling to find a shirt. You didn’t really know exactly what shirt you were wearing, except that it was comfortable and went well with the pants. The giant number 4 on the back went completely unnoticed. Sandals adorned your feet and sunglass sat as though a crown on your head. Your cross-body bag dangled a bit against your side. 

You had just cringed once again at a price tag when your eyes landed on some brown curly hair. Your eyes followed the coils down to the face and you wanted to scream (but held it in because you were not about to get kicked out). 

There was no way that Lando Norris was standing about 10 feet away from you. 

There was no way. 

Except your hands automatically opened your phone and the twitter app popped up. You were too busy looking down at your phone, fingers moving at the speed of light, to notice that some hazel eyes had landed on your figure. 

Lando, on the other hand, wanted to sigh. Could he go one day without having to get stopped by fans? The giant 4 on your shirt seemed to mock him. Internally, he was wishing that the girl was a Max or Charles fan. 

But, he was going to be the bigger person and approach the nice looking girl before she could bring more attention to him. He decreased the space between them and tapped her shoulder, getting her attention. 

You were not expecting a tap on the shoulder. And you were definitely not expecting that tap to come from Lando Norris’s finger. 

“Can I sign something for you?” he asked. The sound of his voice must have put some type of spell on you since you felt as though you couldn’t speak. 

Lando huffed. “Please? I don’t need other people finding out that I’m here and then I’ll have to leave.” 

You blinked twice at him before you finally found your voice. “I’m sorry. Who are you exactly?” 

Stupid reddit post. 

The McLaren driver wanted to smack himself. Were you a fan? Or maybe you were wearing a papaya colored shirt that supported another person, who happened to have the same number? Or maybe if was your friend’s shirt? Or one you thrifted?

He winced. “I am so sorry. I thought. . . ” 

You shifted on your feet, brain trying to come up with an idea for what happens next. You were standing in front of thee Lando Norris. You couldn’t miss this opportunity. 

Lando watched your eyes widen and he wanted to hide. Maybe you were just shocked that it was him? 

Your eyes then squinted. “You look really familiar. Oh, I know where you’re from.” 

The Briton wanted to run and hide. This was it, you were going to start squealing, and then other people will look that way, see Lando, cause a giant crowd, and then he wouldn’t be able to do anything for the rest of the weekend. 

He was doomed. 

“You’re that actor right? From Spiderman.” 

This time, Lando blinked while staying silent. 

“No, I believe that’s Tom Holland.” 

“Oh.” 

Now it was getting awkward with the two of you just looking at each other. Which, this gave you the perfect opportunity to memorize the different shades of blue, green, and brown in his eyes. You looked to the side and chewed on you bottom lip. 

Lando looked stuck. 

“I am so sorry for interrupting your shopping,” he started out. 

You waved your hands, trying to act nonchalant. “It’s fine. Wasn’t like I could buy anything here. Way too many zeros for my liking.” 

Lando giggled at that and you internally melted. 

Time to add “got Lando Norris to giggle like a schoolgirl” on your resume. 

“Yeah. Bit too posh for me as well.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? You look like you fit in a bit more than I do.” 

He rolled his eyes before huffing. “I’d rather spend time playing video games at my house instead.” 

Now this is what you could get behind. When you first started following Lando, gaming started to interest you. Because of him, you were able to meet a bunch of friends through gaming. Your notifications were specifically set up to let you know when Lando was streaming. 

Your eyes lit up with some excitement, which Lando thought was adorable. 

“I like to game too! It’s fun playing weird simulator games. Me and my friends tried this goat game one time and we couldn’t stop laughing.” 

This time, Lando’s eyes sparkled. 

“I’ve played goat simulator too with my friends! Charles . . .” he caught himself, not wanting to give out more names. “Uh my friends Carl, Alec, and Jord really liked it during the pandemic. And then we got Dax in on it too.” 

You wanted to absolutely start laughing, since you actually watched that stream live back in 2020. The cute names he gave to Charles, Alex, George, and Max were adorable. Your friends, although knowing you were watching the stream, had sent you the link and asked if you’d want to play the same simulator. Let’s just say, your laugh rivaled teapot-Charles. 

“They sound like fun,” you said, a warm tone in your voice that had Lando melting like chocolate under a hot summer’s sun. 

There was a bit of silence before Lando spoke up again. “Do you maybe, this sounds so weird, but there’s a game store farther down, would you want to join me?” 

There was no way in hell that you’d tell him no. 

You smiled up at him. “Sure! Lead the way! By the way, I’m Y/n.” 

Lando went to say something but stopped. You could tell he almost said his name, and you’d bet money on the name that was about to come out of his mouth. 

“I’m Bob.”

Bingo. 

You snorted. “You don’t look like a Bob. But what would I know?” 

The two of you laughed as you started walking farther into the shopping center. You exchanged laughs here and there, sharing stories about your lives with Lando being very vague about his day job. 

“I work as an Uber driver,” he had said after you confessed that you were now working as a part-time gamer and then part-time relator. The work was hard, but that job allowed you to spend your hard-earned money on fun things like: coming to Imola early to try to find Lando. 

Low-and-behold, you did. 

Spending the afternoon with him felt so comfortable, as if you had known each other your entire lives. And Lando, to his surprise, felt the same. After the gaming store, he even invited you to lunch. 

“You know you don’t have to do that,” you told him, but kept stride alongside him as he walked toward the small restaurants. 

He shrugged. “I know. But I like spending time with you.” 

A deep blush formed on your face as you kept walking. The bright red caused Lando to smirk just a bit. 

As you ate and made conversation, you suddenly felt the urge to use the bathroom. You quickly excused yourself and left, leaving Lando at the table along. 

He hadn’t meant to look, but your phone kept going off and his eyes just barely looked at your screen. They widened with he noticed his exact points in the season along with McLaren’s and the race schedule. And the picture of him from Miami after his first win as your lockscreen.

The Box-Box app. 

He pursed his lips for a moment, briefly feeling played. But as he sat and thought about the past few hours that he spent with you, he felt content. At any point, you could have screamed his name, asked for a picture, and ruin his shopping trip. You could have tweeted his location and hordes of people would have shown up. 

But you didn’t.  

The McLaren driver was so caught up in his head that he didn’t heard you coming. Thankfully, your screen had gone dark, still giving the effect that you “didn’t know” who he really way. 

“Everything ok Bob?” you asked as you sat back down, stealing one of his French fries from his tray. 

Lando shook his head, ridding the “betrayal” from his thoughts. 

“Just perfect. Trying to figure out who might win the Formula 1 race this weekend.” 

He wanted to smirk at you froze for just a second before leaning back just a bit, arms crossed over your chest. 

“What is that? Some type of NASCAR thing?” 

Oh, so you knew how to play. 

Luckily for Lando, so did he. 

“It’s a bit different,” he said as he took a sip of his drink. 

You were internally freaking out. 

Did he know? If he knew then he might say something. And then he’ll call his security team and get you a ban from the paddock. And you might even go to jail for stalking. Could you even go to Italian jail for that? You didn’t know and didn’t want to find out. 

However, Lando kept silent as the two of you finished your lunches. Easy conversation did flow once again when you steered it back to gaming. You had a giant smile as the two of you walked out of the shopping area. 

However, your heart dropped when you realized that the time with the Briton was coming to a quick end. Lando was feeling the same. 

You let out a sigh as you turned to look him in the eyes. “Thank you for today. I had a lot of fun! Like I said, you didn’t have to.” 

Lando scoffed. “Of course I did. I interrupted your shopping. It was the least I could do.” 

There was a lingering silence before you broke it. 

“I guess this is the end then Bob.” You held out a hand for him to shake, but he rolled his eyes and brought you into a hug. You parted after a bit and started to walk toward the little Fiat you had rented for the weekend. 

Lando felt torn until he realized he could definitely see you again. 

“Y/n! Wait!” 

You turned around to see Lando running up to you, phone out. 

“Can I have your number?” 

Yep, this is how you were going to die. Y/n L/n found dead in a parking lot after Lando Norris asked for her number. What an amazing way to go out in the end. 

You didn’t say anything, but quickly opened your phone and handed it to him, new contact ready to be filled out. The driver was smirking to himself as he filled out his information. He handed your phone back to you, only to lean down and kiss your cheek.

The familiar bright red once again filled them in as he leaned back. 

“I had a lot of fun today. Maybe I’ll see you soon?” he quietly said as he started to walk away. 

“Maybe,” you said back, biting your bottom lip after. 

Lando swore that if the two of you weren’t in the parking lot, he’d bite it for you. 

When he was a bit away, he turned back and waved at you, happy to see that you were still staring at him. But who wouldn’t stare at Lando Norris though. Definitely not you, you could stare all day long if you could. 

“Bye Y/n!”

“Bye Lando!” 

Your hands clapped over your mouth as you watched him lean back in a full laugh. You even had him hunching over in a fit of giggles. You still watched as his shoulders shake as he got into what looked to be an Uber. 

Your phone buzzed, causing you to look down at it. There was an email and a text message. One from McLaren and one from “Lando 🧡” 

“Maybe next time I can sign your shirt. I think it’s cute that you follow my points :)”

You turned around quickly, trying to see the back of your shirt in the reflection of your rental car. There it was, in all it’s glory. 

The giant-ass “4.” 

“Shit.” 

y/n_l/n has posted

y/n_y/n kinda confused about 20 guys driving around in circles. someone know what this is called?

also ran into this really cute guy. says he drives for a living. didn't know uber drivers could be hot

liked by friend1, bestie, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 3,204 others

friend1 ayo is that the guy that you will not shut up about?

landonorris awww you don't shut up about me??

y/n_l/n STOP EXPOSING ME

bestie ok I see the appeal, can you ask someone for that brunet in the red's number??

maxverstappen1 🤺🤺🤺

y/n_l/n i think he's taken

charles_leclerc I am??

maxverstappen1 ☹️

charles_leclerc I AM TAKEN

friend2 so luckyyyyyyy

friend4 glad you had fun!

oscarpiastri I think it's called Formula 1

y/n_l/n finally someone who knows something @.landonorris you've been replaced

landonorris osc, we've talked about this

fan1 what the heck is going on

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