#just think for a moment about where i grew up for that to be the case

[ayrtonswnna]

hello there!

Can I request a Franco x reader? But where Ayrton Senna is alive in this universe and the reader is Senna? If not, then fine. It's up to you. Thanks in advance 😊😊

ʚɞ a/n: that is my moment!!!!!!!! i often imagine how would it be to have ayrton in contemporary scenarios it's unhealthy lol. i really think he'd be full of jokes and a fun guy just like he was off track. thanks for the request, it was a real nice one to write! (and if anyone has any senna request, i'll be more tham happy to take it! (i'm even willing to write stuff with senna himself))

ʚïɞ "you got me good" FC43

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀↳ masterlist ↳ drop a request! ↳ more franco fluff!

✧₊⁺ franco colapinto x cecília senna (senna!female oc)

✧₊⁺ word count: 1,6k⠀⠀⠀⠀✧₊⁺, gender: crack, fluff.

✧₊⁺ summary: franco and cecília kept a secret relationship and when they decide to come clean, her father was ahead of it and he's a total menace.

✧₊⁺ warnings: alternative universe where that may 1th 1994 didn't happen and ayrton grew old like he deserved to, my hyper focus on that man shown in references, a bit of portuguese properly translated, kinda short and poorly contextualized, curse words, franco is a baby, just soft and light content for the win.

"What do you mean he doesn't know about it?"

Franco took a deep breath, massaging his own scalp as his friend and co-worker continued talking, a mix of excitement and judgment in his words.

"You are not making this any better," he mouthed.

"You are dating his daughter! You are da-ting. The man's daughter. Like... The man's daughter. The hell haven't you met her family!?"

"I am scared, okay!? If I get rejected by her family... It's not just my girlfriend's family. It's simply Senna himself! Should I what!? Drop the job? Hide in a cave?"

Alex laughed, the words and the tone easing the tension. The guy was worried to death and things might be simpler than he thought. Everyone knew Senna was a fun person.

Dating Cecília Senna felt almost like marrying into royalty. It's a good feeling, though. Bagging Cecília Senna could easily be added to one of Franco's big achievements — and he's a former F2 driver called in last minute to fill a Formula One seat — and he's doing great.

But still, it's Cecília Senna, the only child of a legend, someone he looked up to growing up, someone he saw in the paddock many times before ending up in his daughter's sheets.

"Hello, everyone!"

God, his heart might have dropped to the floor just now. The retired driver walked into the garage happily, with his daughter attached to his arm and waving familiarly.

Everyone gathered around them immediately, though Cecília's eyes instantly met Franco's. She knew he was scared and had made fun of him until she couldn't anymore, teasing him in every way she could.

"I've heard the news on the Argentinian! You guys are lucky you got away easily!"

Alright, it's time to pray. What news? That he's fucking his daughter? That they meet every week? That she wanted a Williams' box pass so badly just because of him? Or... That they hid it from everyone just to gain a bit more time?

"We got quality, mate! That's it." Vowels took his cue to fill in the blank, the people dispersing and going back to their work. "Found the kid sparring and made him a beast."

"Yeah, of course," the Brazilian laughed. "What's up, buddy! Feeling the pressure?"

Franco mentally cursed Cecília for raising her eyebrows and doubling the meaning of the question, but he managed to stand up and dry his sweaty hands on his pants.

"I try not to, honestly. Not... think about it a lot," he said, feeling he could have worded the sentence a bit better as they shook hands.

"That's the spirit! I heard a lot about you, little man. Do you know my daughter? Cecília?"

Tricky question. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tricky question.

If he had heard about it, then he knew about them. Franco could say "yes" and end up with a lecture, or say "no" and be caught in a lie.

"You guys think you are smart, huh? Fooling around, hiding from cameras..."

Oh, it's over. It's over for him. The "drop the job and hide in a cave" plan was almost running in his veins right now. Maybe he should Sebastian Vettel his way around, retire early, and move to a countryside home in Switzerland. Yes, that's a good plan.

"Pai... Para com isso." Cecília shoved her dad's side, rolling her eyes. (Dad... Stop that.)

"What? You guys thought you got away with it?"

"Pai! Ele tá ficando sem graça!" she insisted. (Dad! He's getting uncomfortable!)

Franco thought of speaking up, but the nerves were all up and maybe he should let it be.

"Yeah! He should!" Ayrton still had a serious look on his face, making Franco shiver.

"Pai, sério." (Dad, I'm serious.)

"Sir, I know it—"

"Come on, Franquinho! I'm fooling around, take that scared look off your face!" In a matter of seconds, Ayrton's grin turned into a playful smile, and his arm was hooked over Franco's shoulder, messing up his hair and leaving him even more confused. "Did I scare you? You should have seen your eyes!"

Franco laughed, still a bit dulled. That was a big one.

"You're a bastard," Cecília rolled her eyes once again, aware of the father she had.

The man was a natural jokester, full of little jokes and loved making uncomfortable scenarios in the name of fun. He was a handful.

"And you guys should have told me about this before! You lost it all, Franquinho. Angra, the travels... You need to be introduced to the family!"

He had heard about Angra; the beach house Cecília went to every now and then, how much she and her father loved the place. He even saw an old interview where Ayrton said that his retirement plans included being "Angra's nature inspector."

"Yeah- Yeah, sim." Franco risked some Portuguese, patting Ayrton on the back before they both stepped apart. "Sorry for... for taking too long to meet you, I was- Damn, you got me good."

"I could see!" Senna didn't waste a single laugh. "Don't worry, little boy. You're a good investment. And Cecília is pretty happy, so... you got my support."

"I'm even happier to hear it." Franco chuckled. "Thank you, very much. Your daughter also makes me really happy."

"Of course! Her bad jokes make everyone laugh." Ayrton kept the teasing going. "Now you better show me some racing! I've been in your place and to keep the daughter you need to be as good as dad!"

"You should have seen your face, baby!"

Franco glanced at his girlfriend as he turned his head, their first alone time since the morning's humiliation session.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he mouthed, shirt off and focus switching. "That was traumatizing."

"I told you he's a clown." Her shoulders went up a bit. "But he wasn't lying at the end! He likes you!"

"I got that part. Now I know where you got that dark humor from." The blue-eyed boy stood in the middle of his room, hands on his waist as he let his girlfriend use her eyes.

"What can I say? I am my father's daughter." She smiled mischievously. "He wants you to spend some time, though. Before Vegas, maybe?"

"I could've Max Verstappen my way around and have stayed for the week... But we waited until your dad could scare me to death in the middle of the box so... Yeah, it can be next week." He started simple, voice steady.

But then Cecília approached and her hands liked to touch. All over his torso while she traced a good way for his hair.

"You ain't seen nothing yet." The smile was still on her face, lips coming closer and closer to his. "But I am really happy, you know? Now we can just be and enjoy some time... I can take you to Angra, and I don't need to hide in your driver's room. I was done with pretending I was investing in Williams just so I had a reason to watch the races here."

"Told you about it... You could afford my seat."

Another joke. Ever since he got into F1 as an emergency call, she did say she only had to call her dad and his 2025 seat would be secured.

"You're gonna get it because you deserve it, I am not affording that." She flashed her eyelashes, rimming a single syllable as his hands also started to travel.

Inside her expensive shirt, up and down her back in good pressure before they found room at her waist.

"You know what else I deserve?"

"You freak! Go shower and I'll be waiting for you outside. My dad is around!"

It took them no time. Within weeks, Ayrton and Franco became partners in crime, and suddenly, Cecília was having a taste of her own medicine.

"Turn it off! Now!" Ayrton whispered in a screaming tone, the last signal Franco needed before turning off the power for the whole house.

Cecília had just come back from the beach and Franco finally knew the Angra house. It was dark, and the prank was not very well planned.

"Porra." (Shit.) they heard the Brazilian swearing. "Que inferno, de novo? PAAAAI?" (What the hell, again? DAAAAD?)

He knew some words in Portuguese and it only made it funnier. Him and his father-in-law were hiding in the small laundry room as Cecília searched for them.

"Ready, kid?"

"No, but I'll do it anyways."

"Good kid. You're a great one." The old man, as a new custom, messed with the Argentinian's hair, before opening the door and waiting for him to leave.

"Eu juro, se vocês estiverem armando pra cima de mim eu— Ah— FRANCO! NO!" (I swear, if you guys are planning something against me I—)

He's fast even with his limited knowledge about the furniture in the house, walking in the dark before he could lift her and throw her over his shoulder.

It's the fourth time she's thrown in the pool and she just knows it's her father opening the glass door for the exterior area before she's sinking in cold water.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ALL!" Cecília screamed. "I JUST WASHED MY HAIR! OH MY GOD! PUTTING YOU TWO TOGETHER WAS THE WORST THING I EVER DID!"

"Não reclama, princesinha..." (Don't you complain, little princess...) her father played, now standing besides her boyfriend. "Bate aqui, you passed the test. Welcome to the family." (High five,)

"I hate you guys. Eu odeio vocês, los odio. Whatever. Don't ever talk to me again." Cecília stomped her way out of the pool, walking straight past them.

"Don't get mad, baby... It's just a joke!"

"Well, boy... It's your girlfriend. Go ease her nerves. You're called Colapinto for a reason."

ʚïɞ ayrtonswnna, 2024. check my masterlist or drop a request (: reblogs and feedback are always welcome (:

[66stitches]

abby anderson request !! :)

i wanted something where abby is starting to doubt her sexuality and trusts reader to ask questions and just talk about it (reader is a lesbian and they're close friends, it can end up with them kissing — or more, if you're comfortable)

cw: sfw, kissing (a lot of it), descriptions of masturbation (abby), talk of sexuality and questioning sexuality, no physical description of reader

Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel

a/n: thank you for the req !! I don’t write full on smut unfortunately (though I might write some short stuff in the future), but I tried to write a few kinda sexual scenes here and there

wc: idk prob like 1k

divider creds

Abby loved Owen, truly. She was attracted to him: that is what she kept convincing herself of everyday.

Every moment with Owen was a new lie she fed herself.

He was the man she loved. There was nothing she doubted in her relationship with him. The absence of love’s warmth meant to fill her body was her own fault; her inability to reach climax when they had sex was a problem for which only she was to blame.

It doesn’t mean she never tried, though. Abby had spent nights attempting to pleasure herself to the thought of Owen: the only person she should be thinking of; the only person supposed to be capable of reaching her to her climax.

And yet, all she felt was nothing. She laid in her bed, carnal and romantical dissatisfaction utterly consuming her. She was convinced that she was simply incapable of experiencing any sort of attraction exceeding platonicity.

But it only grew more confusing from there.

In another one of her inevitably futile attempts of bringing herself to climax to the thought of Owen, she felt her mind begin to drift to another thought that would hopefully bring her to that much desired release.

She didn’t intend for it to, but the man was just not doing it for her.

That night, she thought of a woman.

That night, she came so hard she swore she could see stars.

A specific woman she thought of in particular, but she would never admit who it was that finally relieved that ache. Not even in the confines of her own thoughts.

And so here she found herself, seated on the soft cushion of your worn-out couch.

You were Abby’s sole friend who was openly lesbian. Abby had seen you bring women over numerous times before. She had listened to your rants about your sexual and romantic encounters with women.

She even helped set you up with one, which harbored a slight odd feeling in the pit of her stomach for a reason she couldn’t quite decipher.

She had thought of it many times: what it was like being with a woman. She didn’t really know what to make of those thoughts. Whether it was mere curiosity, or perhaps something more.

And now here she sat next to you, trying to find the confidence to speak.

She never found it hard to confide in you. Of course not, you were her dearest friend. But this dilemma of hers was difficult to merely utter aloud, even if it is only to herself.

You were on your phone when Abby spoke.

“So… you’re gay,” she started, and she wanted to strike herself as soon as the words left her mouth, because of course you were gay. What kind of opening is that?

“Good observation?” You chuckled, bemused. You placed your phone down, curious as to where she was going with this.

“What’s it like? You know, being with a woman,” she asked, already regretting bringing it up, but she just needed some certainty.

Your eyebrows twisted in confusion at the inquiry. You and Abby were comfortable enough to share anything with each other. Nothing was considered too much information or too uncomfortable to talk about.

It was just an odd question coming from Abby, who you thought was so sure of her sexuality.

“I guess it’s like how it feels for you being with a man.”

God, she hoped not.

“Why?” You asked.

“Just curious, that’s all. Wanna understand your sexuality more, educate myself,” she spoke rather timidly.

You laughed softly. “Oh, because you’re so woke, right?”

Abby could tell you didn’t believe her. In all fairness, she didn’t really put much effort into trying to sound the least bit credible.

She didn’t even know why she was lying to you right now. She trusted you, she always has. This was just a difficult truth to face.

“I don’t know. I’m just feeling a little confused, I guess,” she confessed, shrugging.

“About your sexuality?” Your voice was slow, but your heart beat quicker than ever before.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find Abby attractive. You’ve always had a little childish crush on the blonde, but you constantly found yourself trying to shove your feelings aside, somewhere far away so it could no longer reach to gnaw at your heart.

But now this — this made it all different. You might be getting slightly ahead of yourself, but you can’t help but think that now you might have the smallest chance with her.

“I don’t know— I mean, yeah, I guess,” she said as she fiddled with the seams of her shirt. “Owen’s just never really made me feel… well, anything. Anything you’re supposed to feel with a partner, I don’t feel it. I thought maybe the problem was Owen specifically, but I’ve come to realize that it’s not.”

“But women get you going?”

“I think so,” she admitted, finally. “I tried to think about a woman last night, while, you know…” she trailed off, her skin suddenly feeling very hot at the confession.

“And?” You whispered, feeling just as hot at her confession. “Was it just what you were missing?”

Abby went quiet for a moment, then she answered. “Yeah, it was.”

It was silent. Abby still looked like she had something to say, so you offered no response for a moment.

“But how could I know? I’ve never tried anything romantic or sexual with another woman, so how would I be able to tell? I could just be confused,” she said.

You were quiet, contemplating your next words. What you were about to do could either ruin your friendship, or elevate it to something more. You were relying on the latter.

“You wanna try?” You asked. Your voice sounded bold, but everything within you was shaking with apprehension.

She offered naught but an incredulous look. Her eyes were blown wide, disbelieving.

“What?”

Well, shit.

“I mean, solely for experimental purposes, of course. A kiss shared with another woman, just to be certain,” you explained.

The tension was thick, almost palpable. You were nervous at Abby’s silence and you realized that this is where your boldness gets you.

You were ready for her harsh rejection and the revulsion that would surely be evident in her voice, but then she spoke.

“Okay,” she said. Not a hint of revulsion in her tone. You didn’t know it, but her heart beat just as quick as yours.

“Really?” You asked, surprised as if you hadn’t been the one to offer.

“Well, yeah,” she leaned in slightly, bringing her face closer to yours. “Just for experimental purposes, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” you breathed. You brought your face to hers, and in a split second you closed the gap between you, meeting each other in a slow kiss, your eyes fluttering shut.

Her lips were soft. Her kiss felt nervous, lacking confidence, yet it still exceeded every expectation.

You pulled away once you felt it was enough. You looked at her and waited for what she had to say.

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely gay,” she said and pushed your face right back into hers, meeting your lips in a much more heated kiss.

This kiss, however, held the confidence the previous one lacked, her lips moving skillfully against yours. You waited for the shock to wear off before kissing her back, clearly not expecting her to want more.

You disconnected your lips once again, pulling her face away from yours. “Abby—”

“Just need-” she interrupted her own words to press another swift peck to your lips. “A little more-” another kiss. “Just to make sure,” she said, finally and pulled you in for another kiss. She cupped your burning cheeks with her palms and slipped her tongue into your mouth.

What was supposed to be an innocent kiss, solely for the sake of experiment (how the thought made you laugh now), turned into her exploring your mouth with her tongue and pushing her body against yours. This kiss held no place for innocence now.

She softly moaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating throughout your body.

She used her thumb to lightly caress your cheek as she kissed you like her life depended on it. She slightly pulled apart then, nibbling on your bottom lip with her teeth.

As the kiss came to an end, you sat staring at each other, breathless, and oh so blissful.

“You wanna know something?” Abby asked with a dumb smile on her face which brought another smile upon your own. You hummed.

“It was you,” she started, still faintly breathless. “You were who I thought of.”

Your eyebrows rose at the confession. It was unexpected, but certainly not disliked.

What you were more surprised at, though, was how casually she said it, seemingly too blissed out at the moment for any feeling of embarrassment.

“You telling me I was your gay awakening?” You asked, grinning.

“You could say that.” She shrugged and scratched at the back of her neck.

You laughed and scooted closer to her. “Well, I guess I’m honored then,” you said.

“Alright,” she rolled her eyes and laughed. She leaned in then, craving more of your taste.

You giggled into the kiss and pulled away, licking your lips to savor her intoxicating taste.

“I think we’ve already come to the conclusion that you’re gay. You still want more?”

She brought her face closer again and caressed your cheeks. She was close enough that you could feel her breath against your lips.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Now shut up and let me kiss you.”

[the-lying-heavens]

"Pick One Moment"

[Spencer Reid x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: A rough case in Dayton, Ohio brings unexpected emotions to the surface for you, forcing you to confront feelings you'd been hiding for years—feelings for Spencer Reid.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, moment of awkwardness

Word Count: 2.0k words

A/N: just based on the lyric 'And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you...I love you' from the song Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra because it's been stuck in my head. I've been planning to write Spence for a while but I've been intimidated.

Staying professional in Dayton, Ohio proved to be a challenge.

It had been a rough case, but what case wasn't, right? Just have to wrap this one up and you can go back to your house and dog.

Okay, fine, this wasn't like most cases at all, not to you anyway. This one had hit particularly close to home. And you didn't like that one bit.

This made you more short-tempered than usual, even snapping at a witness. After a lengthy lecture from Hotch, I mean from the look on his face you would think you had insulted him, he had 'benched' you by having you go through old files that might be related to the UnSub.

Hey, at least you got to do it with Spencer.

After working with him for so many years, you grew quite fond of him. Too fond maybe.

You stared at him going through files with a speed that should not have been human. 20,000 words at a minute, and you thought you were a fast reader.

"Got anything yet, Boy Genius?" you asked, flipping the page of your own file.

He looked up at you. God those eyes...

"No. This one isn't even related to it." he dropped the file on the table.

"Didn't you read the entire thing?"

"Yes," he replied, "It was interesting."

"You find everything interesting."

"Not true," he protested.

You rubbed your eyes, sighing. "Sure, Spence."

He tilted his head at you, a look of concern on his face. Adorable.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

You considered lying, you had been doing that the entire time you had arrived in Dayton after all, but decided against it. "Not really."

"Is it about your family? I thought this case might bring up some bad memories."

You couldn't help but smile at how quickly he had gotten it. "Yeah, something like that."

"Can I help?"

"Can you make memories go poof?"

He actually seemed to ponder it. "No. I'm not sure why you would want to."

"You never wish that you could just forget the bad stuff?" You knew what he had been through, you had seen quite a bit of it.

His brows furrowed. "I don't like the idea of forgetting anything. I mean, Mom forgets enough so I remember for her too."

You realized your mistake and winced. "Spence... God, sorry."

"It's okay," he reassured you. "You're remembering a dark time in your life, it can be overwhelming. Also explains you snapping at the witness, with your nerves on edge."

"Yeah?" You grinned. "It was going to be Morgan but the asshole left before I could. So collateral damage."

He laughed. "He's outside if you want to insult him now. I don't want to be collateral damage too."

"You? Never."

"Never?"

"Never," you repeated.

Oh, how you loved his lopsided grins. "Thank you."

"Always." If you could pick one moment to live in forever, it probably would've been that one.

Minus JJ coming through the door right then. "We got something."

You wanted to throw a file at her. Instead, you get up with a heavy sigh. The sooner you get this done the better, you had to remember that.

~~~

The BAU was heading back to Washington tomorrow, so you could leave this far far behind. Finally. This case taking up two weeks of your life was enough.

You sat at a cafe next to the hotel where you were staying. It was a cozy little place with a mostly brown interior and warm lighting. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filled the air.

You sipped your drink, feeling the cup's warmth in your hands. You had been coming here for the past few days and you had to admit, you would miss this place.

Just then, the door opened, and in walked someone you recognized, glancing around the room before spotting you. With a smile, Spencer made his way over, pulling out a chair across from you.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked.

You smiled back, gesturing to the seat. "Not at all."

He sat down and looked around. "So this is where you disappear to?"

You hummed in confirmation. "it's a nice place to think."

He stared at you for a while before nodding thoughtfully.

"What?" you sipped your coffee.

"Just... Are you feeling better?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, UnSubs behind bars. What more could I want?"

"Closure," he replied quietly.

You pressed your lips together tightly. "It's fine Spence. I'm alright with it."

"I don't think you are."

"Spencer," you said, a hint of warning in your voice, "You want to help, I get it. But not with this. Okay?"

It was an unspoken thing, the way Spencer always seemed to know when you needed space and when you needed someone to push just a little. He respected your boundaries, but there were moments—like this one—when his concern slipped through the cracks.

He sat across from you in that quiet cafe, watching you. You couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to speak or if he was just giving you the time to process, as he always did.

It had been a rough case, yes, but that wasn’t why you were still here, staring into your coffee like it held all the answers.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his. He was still staring at you, quietly, as if he could see past your walls.

"Spence," you said, your voice quieter than you intended, "I’m fine. Really."

He didn’t respond immediately. His hand rested on the edge of the table, and you could see him fiddling with his fingers. That subtle nervousness he only ever seemed to show when he wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew he needed to say something.

"I don't believe you," he murmured, his voice soft but insistent. “I’ve seen you too many times to believe that everything’s okay, especially when it’s not. You’ve been holding it in, and I know that—"

"Spencer—" you started, but you were too late. He was already talking over you, his voice getting faster.

"Please. I just want to make sure you're alright, okay?" He sighed, his eyes briefly darting away before looking back at you. “I just... I care about you."

Everything felt very... loud. Too loud.

He looked at you expectantly, almost uncertain. Maybe, just maybe, he was waiting for you to make the first move.

You cleared your throat. God, you really hated moments like this, when everything inside you seemed to tremble at the prospect of just being honest.

His hand shifted on the table, and before you could stop it, you had reached out to touch his fingers. It was the smallest of gestures—barely noticeable—but it was enough.

For a long moment, you simply looked at each other, the conversation hanging in the air. There was so much unspoken between you, so much left unsaid. Maybe that was the problem.

Before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out of you, quicker than you could catch them. "I love you."

Spencer's face went completely still, his eyes wide as he processed your confession.

You had not meant to say that. You didn’t. It was an accident. You weren’t ready. You weren’t ready to put that kind of pressure on this, on him, on whatever this was.

But the words had slipped out anyway. You stared at him, feeling the heat rise in your face, hoping the ground would swallow you up.

"Sorry-God, I'm sorry," you quickly got up and rushed out of the cafe.

He just sits there. Frozen.

If you could pick one moment to rewind, it would be this one.

Oh, you fucked up big time.

~~~

You had never been more ready to get home, but unfortunately, there was an hour and thirty minutes on the private plane. With him.

Usually, you would spend an entire flight, after a case well done, talking to Spence. But after yesterday? But not this time. Maybe not ever.

You could feel Spencer’s presence beside you, but he was quiet. So quiet. Not the usual playful banter, no sudden bursts of random trivia or observations. It was almost like he was giving you space... or maybe he was just too uncomfortable to say anything.

Your eyes flickered to him once, twice, each time hoping for some indication of what he was thinking. He was staring out the window, a far-off look in his eyes, his fingers curled loosely around a book in his lap. For a moment, you almost felt the pull to apologize again, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel obligated to comfort you. You had put your foot in it already. Now, it was time to ride this out and pray it didn't become permanently awkward.

But Spencer, as always, was unpredictable.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice quiet, but it still carried across the cabin, cutting through the engine's hum.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your lap. Had you been that obvious?

"I wasn’t going to," you said, a little too defensively.

He didn’t respond right away. You could feel him looking at you, the weight of his gaze making you want to curl into yourself.

“You know I care about you, right?” He said it so gently, like he wasn’t sure how you were going to take it.

You felt your chest tighten. Care about you. Those words. He was still speaking, still looking at you, but it was hard to focus on his words because everything was spinning around that one sentence.

"I do," you replied. You had to stop yourself from saying more—there was more you wanted to say, needed to say—but you couldn’t. Not yet. Not until you figured out where your head was at, where you both were at.

Spencer shifted in his seat. He didn’t look hurt, but there was something in the way he held himself. Maybe he was just holding back, afraid to push too hard, afraid of what that push might break.

You finally took a breath and turned to face him. He was still watching you, his expression a mix of concern and... something else. It was the something else that had you questioning everything.

"You don’t have to say anything," you added quickly, "I just...said something stupid. I didn’t mean to make things weird."

Spencer didn’t break his gaze, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Not his usual goofy grin, but something softer. More real. Something... intimate.

"It’s not weird," he said, his voice still quiet, "You’re not the only one who gets nervous around here, you know."

You blinked at him, genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

His smile flickered, a small laugh escaping him before he adjusted his posture and leaned back in his seat. He seemed less tense, more at ease, "I’m just saying... I’ve had my own share of... feelings. I just didn’t know how to... deal with them."

Your breath caught in your throat. Spencer had feelings? For you?

The question hovered between you like an unspoken truth, but it seemed too risky to ask outright. Instead, you glanced down at your hands, the heat rising in your face.

And then, finally, you said something else, the words coming out quieter than you intended: "Do you think... we can just... forget it happened?"

You almost expected him to shrug it off, to offer a playful remark about how awkward it was or how maybe you'd both laugh about it someday. But he didn’t do that.

"No," he said softly. "I think maybe... we should talk about it. When we’re ready."

Your heart fluttered. Was this... was this him telling you he was ready? That maybe he wanted to figure it out too? Or was this Spencer, as usual, just giving you a window to process everything at your own pace?

You weren’t sure. You weren’t sure of anything. But you couldn’t deny the weight of his words, the connection that had always been there and that seemed to grow stronger the more time you spent together.

"I’m not great at talking about feelings," you admitted, looking over at him sheepishly.

Spencer chuckled softly, a breath of amusement. "Yeah, I’ve noticed."

You gave him a sidelong glance, your lips twitching into a reluctant grin. “Smartass.”

"Hey, you started it," he teased, finally breaking the tension just a little. "And I’ll finish it. But not right now. I think... we both need time to think."

You nodded slowly. He was right. You both needed time. The last thing either of you needed was to make rash decisions while emotions were still running high.

"You’re not mad?" You asked it before you could stop yourself, the doubt creeping in.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" Spencer’s face was open and sincere.

"I don’t know. I just..." You didn’t finish your sentence. What was there to say? How could you explain the mess of emotions you were still trying to sort out?

He reached out across the seat, almost as if he was testing the waters, and placed a hand gently on yours. The touch was brief, but it sent a spark of warmth through you.

"I’m not mad," he said again, more firmly this time. "Not for that."

You were both quiet for the rest of the flight, but the silence between you felt different—more like an understanding, like a promise that when the time was right, you’d figure it out together.

It wasn't the one moment you would pick to stay in forever, but it was a moment you didn't mind being in for the rest of the flight.

[ghsface]

Not sure if you are taking request but can we get an angst with Matt where like reader and him are dating for years but recently comments have been getting to her or people have been following her home and eventually she decideds to break up with Matt but Matt takes things to in his hands where he’s tells ppl to stop and they get back together?(Lol sorry if it didn’t make sense but thank you)

𝜗𝜚 new messege .ᐟ.ᐟ

Hey gorgeous, I really liked this idea, I hope you like it too.

You are the only thing I want - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You and Matt had a secret relationship and when you decide to make it public everything goes wrong...

Warnings: angst hate messages towards reader, this is just angst with a happy ending

A/n: Leave me ideas to write in my inbox because I'm running out of ideas. I'm sorry if something is misspelled or not understood. My first language is not English. By the way, what do you think of my new theme, in my opinion, it's very cute like the baby pink and light brown. 🩷🧸

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

It had been exactly fourteen months since the first time you and Matt kissed. You hadn't imagined then how important he would become in your life, nor that being with him would be so complicated. Because, although you adored each other and the bond between you grew every day, that relationship had to be kept secret. It was a mutual decision, made for practical reasons. At first, the thrill of secrecy made everything more exciting. But now, you both felt exhausted.

You had spent too many nights talking secretly in the car, dates arranged down to the last detail so as not to be seen, or moments of solitude where, instead of shouting to the world how much you loved each other, you had to hide it like a forbidden secret. The situation was starting to weigh on you.

That night, you were on the couch at Matt's house. He was holding you, and your head was resting on his shoulder while you felt his fingers playing with the strands of your hair.

"Aren't you tired of this?" he asked quietly, breaking the silence.

You raised your head and looked at him, searching his eyes for what he really wanted to say.

"What are you talking about?"

"About having to hide… about not being able to tell anyone how amazing you are." Matt smiled, but his eyes reflected a sadness that you shared.

"Of course I'm tired. Sometimes I wish we could be a normal couple".

"Then let's do it", he suggested, giving your hand a squeeze. "Let's make it public. I don't care what others say. I want to be with you, and I want everyone to know it."

The idea made you feel butterflies in your stomach. The love you had for Matt was bigger than any fear, and the fact that he was willing to share your relationship with his fans made you feel special. You decided to announce it on social media.

When Matt uploaded the first photo of the two of you together, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The image showed an intimate moment, a selfie of the two smiling on the beach, with the sunset in the background. The caption was simple but powerful: “Over a year together, and we’re just getting started.”

For the first few hours, the response was overwhelmingly positive. There were comments from fans congratulating and supporting them: “They look beautiful together,” “Finally someone makes Matt happy as he deserves,” “What a great couple they make!”

But over time, other types of messages began to appear. “Her? Is he really with her?”, “She’s not enough for him,” “She’s only with him for fame, I’m sure she’ll use him to become famous,” “Poor Matt, he deserves someone better.”

At first, you tried not to take them seriously. But every time you checked your phone, more of those comments appeared. There were people criticizing your appearance: “She’s too basic for someone like him,” “She’s not even pretty, how dare she date Matt?”, “Matt deserves someone more attractive.”

The words cut you deeply. You knew you shouldn’t let those comments affect you, but you couldn’t stop the doubts from starting to poison your mind. Every time you looked in the mirror, you started to see those flaws that others mentioned. Insecurity began to invade you in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

Matt tried to comfort you whenever he noticed you looking down. Sometimes, during the night, he would catch you reading the comments on your phone, and he would simply take the phone away from you and hold you, whispering that he loved you and that was all that mattered.

“You don’t need to listen to those people, babe,” he said, looking at you with a sincere expression. “They don’t know anything about you, they don’t know how amazing you are.”

The comments didn’t stop, though. Every day they became crueler and crueler. Rumors began to circulate suggesting that you were only with Matt to gain followers, or that you were using his fame to make yourself known. People commented on every aspect of your life, from how you dressed to how you looked without makeup. There were those who said things like, “It’s obvious that she dresses like that to get attention, can’t she dress up better?” or “She should thank Matt for giving her a chance, she’s just an ordinary girl.”

At some point, comments were no longer the only thing. People started following you home, taking photos of you without your permission, and even trying to get close to you to ask you invasive questions. You felt watched and judged at every turn, and little by little, you started to believe that you weren't enough, that maybe all those people were right.

The pressure began to be unbearable. Your self-esteem plummeted, and every time you looked in the mirror, you saw someone who, according to the world, wasn’t enough. Matt tried to cheer you up, to remind you how much he loved you, but you couldn’t stand it anymore.

One night, after one of your most difficult conversations, you asked him to meet you. Matt came over to your house, and as soon as you saw him, he knew something was wrong. He stared at you in silence as you searched for the words to say to him.

“Matt… I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

“What are you saying?” he asked, frowning, clearly worried.

“I can’t be in this relationship anymore. The pressure, the comments… they’re tearing me apart. I can’t take it anymore.

Matt looked at you, unable to process what you were saying. He was trying to understand, but the pain in your eyes made it clear to him that you were really hurt.

“But… I love you, and I don’t care what other people think. They don’t understand what we have.”

“I know, Matt. I know you love me, but I can’t go on like this. I’m losing myself in all of this.” It's getting harder and harder to get up and pretend everything is okay.

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back your tears. “Matt… I can’t keep going like this. I can’t handle the pressure, the comments, the people following me everywhere. I feel like I’m losing myself, and I don’t want to drag you into this. I think… I think it’s best that we break up.”

The goodbye was hard and heartbreaking for both of us. In the days that followed, Matt stayed away from social media, not mentioning anything about what had happened. He isolated himself, trying to understand how the love of his life had to walk away because of the cruelty of others.

Weeks went by as you tried to get over the situation, even though you felt empty. However, one afternoon, while you were checking your social media, you noticed a post from Matt that surprised you.

It was a photo of you and him that Nick had taken, and the message was clear and direct: “I don't give a shit what others say about my girlfriend. I'm with her because I love her, and that's never going to change.”

Matt's public statement was not only a message to his fans, but a promise that he was willing to stand up for what they had. Feeling a torrent of emotions, you decided to call him. When he answered, his voice trembled with emotion.

"I can't go on without you" he said quietly, while you tried to hold back your tears.

"Me neither, Matt… I love you."

That night, they met again, and between tears and hugs, they knew that this time there would be nothing and no one that could separate.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

⤷ Tags... @matthewsroses @sophand4n4 @strnilolover @lolastrniolo

[greengoblinswifey]

i need more fratboy Nicholas! Something with his ex girlfriend and the reader get jealous? I dont know, i just love youuuu ❤️

warnings— slight angst, jealous!reader, possessiveness, oral(f), bondage, praise kink, overstimulation, hair pulling, degrading kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff, L bombs.

a/n— lyt xx creating this fratboy!nicholas au was the best decision i made, requests are so open for it <33

Nicholas had always been the easygoing guy who somehow managed to calm you down and make you feel safe. But right now, he was inches away from losing that place with you. When you had left the library, you hadn’t expected that run-in with his ex—Amber, of all people. The way she had looked at you, sizing you up, then moved right in on your spot next to him, laughing too loud and touching his arm, was enough to make your blood boil. But you kept it together, stormed off, and left Nicholas to figure things out on his own.

Later that evening, you were still fuming. When Nicholas missed your first call, the pit in your stomach grew deeper. He never missed your calls. And then he finally picked up the second call, sounding cheerful—until you went straight to the point.

“Why didn’t you answer the first time?” you asked, your tone sharp.

“I was in the bathroom,” he said, sounding caught off guard. “I- I left my phone with Amber.”

Your heart sank, but your voice stayed steady. “Amber? As in, the girl I saw today?”

He hesitated, confirming your suspicion. “Yeah, she’s my ex, but it’s really nothing.”

You didn’t bother responding—you just hung up, leaving him in dead silence.

Not even five minutes later, there was frantic pounding on your door. When you opened it, there stood Nicholas, breathing hard, looking both apologetic and scared. He tried to take your hand, but you crossed your arms, blocking the doorway.

“Please hear me out, I’m sorry,” he started, his words tumbling over each other. “I didn’t want her there, okay? She- She just showed up, and I didn’t know how to get her to leave. I swear, I was only focused on studying—she was the one doing all the talking.”

You gave him a hard stare. “So, what if something happened to me, Nicholas? What if I needed you and you were off letting your fucking ex hold onto your phone?”

He looked down, guilt written across his face. “There’s no excuse,” he said, his voice soft. “I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise. I’ll never talk to her again, I didn’t even want her there. She’s just very persistent.”

The look in his eyes told you he was genuinely worried. He knew he’d messed up, and he was desperate to make it right. But that didn’t mean you were just going to let it slide. You narrowed your eyes at him, sizing him up as he stood in front of you, looking almost as if he was expecting you to throw him out.

Then, without saying a word, you grabbed him by the belt, pulling him inside and pushing him onto the bed. He looked up at you, startled, the hint of a smirk creeping onto his face as he realized where this was going.

You leaned over him, still glaring, your voice firm. “You’re mine, Nicholas. Remember that. And next time, you won’t even think about letting anyone else close to you. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice barely a whisper, eyes wide and sincere. “I swear. I just—I only want you.”

You finally let a smile break through as you leaned down and captured his lips, letting him know you were still his—at least for now. The thought of Amber seeing his lock screen, a picture of Nicholas kissing your neck, your arms around each other made the anger in you settle, just a bit.

Your smile widened even more seeing him hard already when all you did was kiss him.

“Hard already huh?” you began, “is it for me or that white bitch?”

“You, I’m always hard for you and you only,” he said, looking up at you with pleading eyes, “please, can I touch you?”

You thought for a moment. “You don’t deserve to touch me, but I need your mouth on me.”

He stared up at you in desperation as you pulled out a small rope from under your bed. “Give me your hands.” He complied and though you wanted to punish him, you decided to tie his arms in front of him to make it a bit easier for him to pleasure you. “Good boy, now you can get to eat me out without touching me.”

Slowly, you stripped yourself of your clothing and he watched in awe, wishing he had his hands all over you. He wished he could squeeze your ass, grope your tits and trace his hands over your curves. Why did he have to fuck up so bad.

You pulled him up by his tied wrists and took his place on the bed, spreading your legs as he went on his knees, his mouth immediately on your pussy.

“Y-you taste amazing, but it’s so- so hard to make you feel good with my hands tied,” he whined.

“I’m doing fine and I’m feeling good, shut up and keep going.” You rolled your eyes and pushed his head back into your pussy.

His soft little whines made you throb as you clenched around his tongue, already feeling the impending orgasm.

“You’re close aren’t you baby? Mm— please cum on my tongue,” he said, struggling to keep himself up as he ate you out like you were his last meal.

You grabbed his hair roughly making him wince and began grinding your pussy on his face.

“Don’t let a drop go to waste,” you moaned.

Ever so obedient, Nicholas slurped and swallowed your juices as you squirted on his face. He loved how wet you got when you were turned on. How everything flowed from you so beautifully.

“Did I do good?” he asked, his lips pouty and his cheeks red.

“Hm, maybe, maybe not,” you answered, pulling him up by his hair.

He gasped as you shoved him onto the bed, pulling off his clothes with great force.

“You’re kinda scaring me baby,” he laughed nervously.

“Well, you should’ve thought about that before hanging with your ex.”

He pouted but watched intently as you straddled him, your tits he loved so much but couldn’t touch recoiling in his face.

“I’m really really sorry I— oh.” His desperate apology was cut off by a deep whimper as you sank down onto his thick cock waiting you.

“That’s right, shut the fuck up,” you smirked. You began bouncing and moving your hips, grinding on him using the move that drove him absolutely insane. His head was spinning, his breath was caught in his throat and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back from just bursting the rope and having his hands all over you.

But he resisted. He wanted nothing more than to be your good boy, taking whatever you gave him.

“That’s my good boy,” you moaned. Exactly the words he wanted to hear. Your movements slowed, allowing him to feel every pulse of your pussy. He could feel your juices slide down his shaft making his head all foggy.

“Please,” he whimpered, tears pricking his eyes, “I really need to cum.”

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you held on to him, leaning forward to keep your rhythm steady and relentless. His breathing turned ragged, eyes squeezed shut, and he barely held on as you bounced, picking up the pace just as he began to tremble beneath you.

“Please… I can’t—” he gasped, voice low and shaky, a hint of desperation cutting through.

But you just smirked, ignoring his pleas as you moved faster, chasing your own release. His hands gripped your waist, fingers flexing as he tried to keep himself grounded.

“You’re fine,” you whispered against his ear, letting your lips brush his skin. “Just a little longer.”

He whimpered at that, his hands tightening, but he didn’t dare stop you, too captivated and too close to deny you anything. The sensation built until you finally tensed, gasping his name softly as your own release washed over you.

Nicholas was close, barely holding on as he whispered, “Please… please… can I—”

“Go ahead,” you murmured, stilling just enough to give him that last bit of control, and he let go, his eyes closing as he got lost into his own release inside you just as you did, his relief echoing in his voice as he whispered your name.

Nicholas’ voice was barely a whisper, his words pouring out between heavy breaths. “Thank you baby, thank you,” he said frantically, as if he couldn’t say it enough. His wrists, now free from the restraints, flexed as he looked up at you with a mixture of awe and relief.

“Can I, um, can I touch you now?” he asked softly, almost hesitant. You tilted your head, pretending to consider, then gave a small nod.

“I guess you’ve earned it,” you teased, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Without another word, his hands cupped your cheeks, rough and warm, pulling you close as he kissed you, slow and full of gratitude. His fingers brushed along your skin like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed you to know how much he meant every word he was about to say.

“I’m sorry about—everything with my ex today. I’ll make sure it never happens again,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. He took a shaky breath. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, you know that?”

The weight of his confession hung between you, and you felt your heart skip, unable to hide the surprise in your eyes. For a second, all you could do was look at him, his gaze so open, so vulnerable. Finally, you reached up, your hands resting over his.

“I love you too,” you whispered, the words coming easily, like they’d always been there. His face softened, and he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you as if he’d never let go.

You lay there together, tangled up in each other, his hands trailing gentle patterns along your back as your fingers combed through his hair. The quiet was warm, comforting, filled with a new closeness as you held each other, both savoring the rare, unguarded moment.

[caitified]

Caitlin x reader where reader is a physio in training with the fever?

physio

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:none! sorry for my absence.

i kind of want to do a part 2 of this where caitlin gets slightly injured and reader takes care of her. lmk what you think

it was caitlin’s first official day with the indiana fever. she walked into the training facility with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, trying to hide the mix of nerves and excitement she felt. the fever locker room wasn’t as intimidating as she’d expected, but everything still felt new – new team, new city, new start.

as she headed down the hall, she spotted you in the physical therapy room, organizing equipment with a calm focus. she hadn’t even met you yet, but something about you immediately caught her attention. maybe it was the way you moved so purposefully, or the easy way you smiled when you noticed her standing in the doorway.

“hey, you must be caitlin,” you said, extending a hand with a friendly smile. “i’m [y/n]. i’m the team’s physical therapist.”

caitlin shook your hand, noticing the warmth of your touch, and couldn’t help the way her stomach did a little flip. “yeah, that’s me. it’s…really nice to meet you,” she managed, maybe a bit too eagerly.

you chuckled softly, motioning for her to sit on the table. “let’s get you checked out, make sure you’re ready to hit the court.”

over the next few weeks, caitlin found herself coming up with excuses to visit the therapy room more often than necessary. she’d claim her ankle felt a little off or that her shoulder was bothering her, all in the hopes of spending a few extra minutes with you. she’d tell herself it was just to get to know the team, but katie lou and lexie quickly saw through her excuses.

“you know, most of us don’t need this much ‘maintenance,’” katie lou teased one afternoon, nudging caitlin as they walked to practice. “pretty sure you’re the healthiest rookie we’ve ever had.”

caitlin rolled her eyes, but a faint blush crept over her cheeks. “just trying to be careful, that’s all.”

it wasn’t long before you started picking up on her pattern, too. one afternoon, when she came in yet again with a vague complaint about her knee, you just raised an eyebrow at her.

“really, clark? again?” you asked, trying to hide the amusement in your voice.

she hesitated, caught off guard by your directness. “uh, well… yeah. just, you know, making sure everything’s good.”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “you know, you don’t need to pretend to be injured to talk to me.”

caitlin’s eyes widened a bit, and she looked down, rubbing the back of her neck. “oh. i mean, i wasn’t–” she stopped, realizing she was caught. “okay, maybe a little.”

you smiled, taking a small step closer. “so why don’t you just ask me out? save yourself all these fake injury excuses?”

caitlin’s breath hitched, surprised by your boldness but grateful you’d made the first move. “you’d really say yes?”

you nodded, a playful glint in your eyes. “i might. but only if you promise to keep the injuries real.”

and from that moment, things shifted between you. you started seeing each other outside of the facility, grabbing coffee after practices and spending late nights getting to know each other. soon, what had started as shy glances and playful excuses turned into something real.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

dating caitlin felt like a dream, especially with the quiet, stolen moments you managed to squeeze into busy schedules. after practice, she’d sometimes find you waiting by the therapy room, her heart doing that familiar flip at the sight of your smile.

“hey, you up for grabbing a bite?” she’d ask, slipping her hand in yours once the two of you were far enough from the facility. at first, you’d both been careful, cautious about being seen together too much, but as the weeks passed, caitlin grew bolder.

one night after a game, you were hanging out in her apartment, both sprawled on the couch, unwinding from the rush of her latest win. she was recounting the highlight of her night, the way she’d hit that last three-pointer, her voice full of excitement as she gestured animatedly.

“i swear, when it left my hand, i just knew it was going in,” she laughed, eyes bright. “the whole crowd went nuts.”

you grinned, watching her, amused by her excitement. “yeah, i saw – i think you almost took out the ref when you celebrated.”

“worth it,” she said, laughing. she shifted a little closer, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face. “but the best part of the night?” she paused, looking into your eyes, a little softer now. “seeing you waiting for me after the game.”

you felt your heart skip a beat as she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a slow, gentle kiss that felt like coming home. you wrapped your arms around her, feeling the steady thump of her heartbeat under your fingers.

just as things were getting comfortable, caitlin’s phone lit up on the coffee table, a notification from the team group chat. she groaned, reluctantly pulling away to check it, but couldn’t help laughing when she saw the message from katie lou.

“don’t be late to practice tomorrow, lover girl. and yes, we know you’re still with her.”

caitlin rolled her eyes, showing you the screen. “they’re relentless, you know?”

you laughed, snuggling closer. “i mean, we’re not exactly subtle. not with the way you keep trying to sneak glances at me during warm-ups.”

she grinned, her hand tracing gentle circles on your back. “can’t help it. you’re a distraction.”

your smile softened, and you tilted your head up to look at her. “good thing i’m dating a pro, then. thought you were supposed to have focus.”

“oh, i’m focused, alright.” caitlin’s gaze grew more intense, and her voice lowered as she leaned in again. “focused on you.”

the rest of the night passed in easy conversation and laughter, the kind of effortless connection that had come so naturally from the start. with every passing day, caitlin grew more comfortable being with you, letting her teammates’ teasing roll off her back as she spent more time with you – coffee dates, late-night drives, shared laughter over takeout in her apartment.

soon enough, everyone knew. but caitlin didn’t care. for the first time, she was completely herself with someone, and every time you looked at her with that soft smile, she knew it was worth it.

thanks for reading! again thanks for being patient. i NEED more requests im not super inspired. 💜

[3amfanfiction]

Thinking about a ghost who keeps his mask on because the face is the hardest part to keep human.

When he first came back he would spill out of his flesh at the slightest stimuli. A breeze had three arm-like protrusions erupting from his back. A dog bark resulted in his torso splitting vertically down the middle from his shoulder to groin. When he stepped on a stick and it cracked he lost his shape completely, sharp spikes ricocheting out of his body at random, elbows bending backwards before 5 hands grew out of his arm, head showing only teeth.

He’d come a long way since then.

It was slow work, learning how to control it when his body didn’t want to maintain its shape. Trial and error left bodies in his wake—people terrified of this thing walking around that looked like a man only some of the time. And we all know how scared people react.

It took time but he did it. He mastered it. All of it.

Except for the face.

His face had a habit of dropping its skin at a moments notice. Someone coughed and you could see how his back molars rested against each other, his cheeks disappearing.

Or the shape would morph. Nothing too dramatic but his nose would shift an inch to the side while his tongue stretched like hot taffy spun between hooks.

So he started wearing a mask to hide it. He had a job to get back to—a new team to meet and he couldn’t afford to waste any more time with this. Covering it up seemed the best option.

So he went about his life, starting with the 141. He fit like a glove and they never pressed about the mask. It was perfect.

Until the day one of them saw. An enemy had gotten too close, their knife made quick work of the fabric before ghost broke their neck. When he turned around it was gaz watching him—watching the way his teeth shifted to points before disappearing completely, leaving gaping, bloody holes in his mouth, watching the way his lips would peel back in a Glasgow smile before restitching themselves.

Ghost had come to expect the screams, the way people would ward him off like he was some demon, the aggression that wasn’t very far behind.

So when all gaz said was just a sec, lt, I have a spare mask in my pack just in case, after a quick double take, ghost was floored.

Where was the cursing and screaming and crying?

But gaz acted like it was just another day, pulling out the spare mask he’d stuck down in his pack ages ago just in case it was ever needed, handing it over to ghost once he shook it out.

And ghost waited for the other shoe to drop. 30 seconds, 5 minutes, 2 days—nothing. Gaz just didn’t care. He didn’t bring it up or make innuendos about it. It was business as usual.

And for the first time ghost felt like he might belong. That the 141 just may be the home he wasn’t aware he was searching for.

Now to break it to the other two. He bet he could make soap scream if he played his cards right.

[teecupangel]

What if desmond was reborn as the 5th auditore child? Like he was just a baby/toddler when the auditore were executed

Hey, nonny.

We can make Desmond be born on March 13, 1476 so he would only be months old when the Auditores are executed.

Wanna fuck with Desmond and the Auditores some more?

What if we keep Maria’s mental state after the execution and make her believe that the baby in her arms is Petruccio.

The only person who could remind her that she was holding and caring for her fifth child was Claudia and it was becoming harder and harder for her to keep trying to stay strong when her mother treating Desmond as Petruccio makes her think that she’s in the past and asking when her husband would be back or if Federico and Ezio be back from playing outside.

The final nail in the coffin is that Maria mistook Claudia as someone else, maybe an older sister that was already dead or even her old nanny who died when Petruccio was just born.

Ezio saw what was happening and pushed Claudia to managing Monteriggioni to keep her from spiraling.

It becomes apparent that Maria sees Giovanni in Ezio and Mario tells him that it might be better if they slowly separate Maria from Desmond.

It’s not doing either of them any good and making Desmond replace Petruccio was a fate that no child should ever shoulder.

So Ezio pretends to be Giovanni taking Petruccio for walks and tries to be there for his younger brother.

But being an Assassin made it hard for him to return home frequently.

He tries his best and he knows Claudia also tries to make their younger brother understand that they don’t see him as a replacement and that their mother is simply… confused at the moment.

That’s how Desmond grew up, pretending to be Petruccio when he’s with Maria Auditore.

Mario trained him while Ezio was running around but he couldn’t leave Monteriggioni because Maria starts to ask where Petruccio is whenever she doesn’t see Desmond for a few hours.

Ezio went to Firenze after journeying to Spain (and got entangled with Bonfire of the Vanities) when Maria finally realized that Desmond isn’t Petruccio. To be more exact, Desmond had turned 21 and Maria cried as she remembered that Petruccio would have never grown as old as Desmond.

At that point, Maria’s relationship with her youngest child was strained by her own guilt and grief while Desmond just accepted it because he loved Maria and a part of him believed that he should have done something more (even if he was still a baby, guilt does not care about one’s age)

Desmond starts doing Assassin work as well but goes rogue for a few months, returning with the remaining seals for Altaïr’s statue.

Desmond takes the armor for himself and just shrugged it off as Ezio’s birthday present or something equally unimportant and Ezio returned to Monteriggioni with… well…

A very awkward family reunion, that’s for sure.

So many things have happened at that point and, as much as he is happy to see his mother healing, he feels guilty for not being there for Desmond who just shrugs it off and tells him “I understand.”

“I understand.”

That was the worst phrase Ezio heard.

He kept hearing it from his younger brother.

At first he was relieved that his brother understood.

Then he realized that the phrase meant more than that to Desmond.

It was a resignation to his current situation.

And Ezio wasn’t really in the best place himself.

He was still grieving the death of Cristina who died while Ezio was in Firenze for Savonarola and his men so there was also a bit of guilt there.

So Mario suggested Ezio takes Desmond to the Vatican with him as a ‘trainee’ and Ezio agreed.

He tells Desmond that he never wanted him to be an Assassin, that he hoped he was the only one who had to carry the blood that drenched the Auditores’ blade.

Desmond just stares at him and goes…

“I understand.”

And Ezio knew that he failed being a brother to his youngest in this bloody path of vengeance he had taken.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

I would also love to get a frostbite with the prompt "You can't just say things like that!" "Why? Because it makes you blush?" with james 💕💕

Thank you so much requesting, bun! I hope you like it <33

ivy's 1k celebration ❄️ navigation ❄️ prompt list

ˋ°•*⁀➷ JAMES POTTER #9: "You can't just say things like that!" "Why? Because it makes you blush?"

The two of you were sitting by the lake, legs stretched out in front, hands barely an inch apart. The sun was beginning to dip, casting a warm, orange glow over the grounds, and you were wrapped up in James’s old Quidditch jumper because you’d “forgotten” to bring a coat. (Not that he minded lending it to you—he lived for moments like these.)

He’d been telling you some ridiculous story about Sirius trying to charm the Great Hall's tables into flying around during breakfast, but somewhere along the line, he’d trailed off, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

“What?” you asked, tilting your head at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged, giving you that dimpled grin that always got him out of trouble. “Can’t help it. You look… beautiful.”

Your eyes went wide as a blush crept up your cheeks. “You can’t just… say things like that!”

“Why not?” His grin grew, clearly pleased with your reaction.

“Because!” you spluttered, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. “It… it makes people flustered!”

“Ah,” he said, scooting a little closer. “So it makes you flustered, is what you’re saying?”

“No!” you said, a little too quickly, your cheeks warming even more. “I’m not flustered. I just… I don’t think you can go around calling people beautiful, is all.”

“Oh, really?” He was practically laughing now, clearly enjoying the way you were trying to avoid his gaze.

“Yes, really!” You crossed your arms and lifted your chin, trying to look unaffected. “There are rules to these kinds of things.”

“Rules? Since when have you known me to follow rules?” He smirked, reaching over to tug on the sleeve of his jumper where it hung down past your hand. “Besides, if you’re not flustered, then what’s the problem?”

“Nothing’s the problem,” you muttered, feeling absolutely ridiculous but trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. “I just… I don’t like it when you say things like that out of nowhere. It’s—”

“Adorable?” he supplied, grinning at you, clearly undeterred.

“No! Infuriating!” you shot back, but your face gave you away.

He leaned in just a little closer, his voice softening. “Because it makes you blush?”

Your breath hitched as you tried to come up with a comeback. But, embarrassingly, nothing came. You could only manage an indignant huff, folding your arms tighter.

“See?” he whispered, his smirk downright devilish. “You’re blushing.”

“James Potter, I swear—” you began, but he cut you off by gently taking your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper as he gazed at you, entirely unbothered. “You swear what?”

“That you’re… you’re…” Your train of thought completely derailed as his thumb brushed your cheek again, leaving you in absolute shambles.

“I’m… what?” he prompted, looking like the most self-satisfied person in the world.

“Impossible,” you muttered, your voice much softer this time.

His smile softened too, a warm and genuine look in his eyes that made your heart skip. “But you love it, don’t you?”

You tried to scoff, but it came out far weaker than intended. “That’s beside the point.”

“Is it?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just a bit longer than necessary.

“Y-Yes,” you mumbled, feeling like you were floating. “It is.”

“Well,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “good thing I’m not great with rules then, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you as you snuggled into his jumper. And in that moment, with the warmth of his laughter and the feel of his arms around you, you couldn’t remember why you’d even tried to deny it in the first place.

[wonsdoll]

𝐶𝑂𝐿𝐷 iN LA ── SJY

❄️ 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝖺 .. 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽

PREC𝓲S ｡｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗁𝖾.

심재윤 ／⠀𝑓𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒 reader ── fluff + non 𝑖𝑑𝑜𝑙 au ｡｡ if you know this song, i love you >3< happy birthday to MY MAN !! ∿ ✦ more

♫ iS YOUR BODY TALKING, CAUSE YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO SAY? DO YOU DO THIS OFTEN? IS IT ALL JUST A GAME? TO YOU IM WONDERIN’ , NEVER SEEN THIS SORT OF THING.. AM i THE ONLY ONE YOU CAME TO SEE ?

moving back to your hometown was supposed to be exciting. you got to be with your family again, reconnect with close friends, and experience everything from your childhood. part of you had forgotten you met jake in your hometown.

it was senior year 2019, when jake slipped a note in your locker saying he has a crush on you. at first you hesitated, “ why would the best soccer player at school have a crush on me? ” you were skeptical, but you went for it.

your relationship was perfect.. for a while. miscommunications were happening constantly, leaving you unsure about where your relationship stood. you called it off, leaving yourself and jake heartbroken. to escape your heartbreak, after high school you moved away.

being a few hours away from your hometown was difficult. you didn’t see your parents often, you were alone almost everyday, who lead you to feeling depressed. after some time away, you decided it was finally time to move back home.

you pulled into the driveway of your parents house, turning the car off as you hopped out of the driver seat. you walked to the front door and knocked on it, hoping your mother or father would answer.

“there you are sweetheart, i’m so glad you got here safe.” your mother pulls you in for a warm embrace, being in her arms after a long time felt like a warm blanket on the coldest day.

it was cold after all, it was the middle of december. the snow was falling softly, and your fingers grew red and cold. you got inside, where you reunited with the rest of your family members. over a cup of hot chocolate, your mother asks about jake.

“have you contacted jake since you got here?” she asks, her hand resting on top of your free hand.

jake.. a name you haven’t heard in months. “no.” you quickly said, sipping on your hot chocolate. you wanted to avoid the topic, deep down though, you wanted to know how he was doing.

“you know he visits sometimes… to see your brother” your mom added, you had forgotten your brother and jake were close. “shit..” you mumbled under your breath.

jake and your brother were on the same soccer team, after finding out they had a lot in common, they became close friends. close friends lead to spending the night at each others houses and play video games.

your brother came out of his room to greet you. “been a while, sis.” jaemin hugged you. your brother never hugged you, but you could easily tell he missed you. you caught up with your brother, during the conversation you managed to ask about jake and his well-being.

“so how is he..?” you ask, sipping your hot chocolate to avoid saying his name.

“who?” jaemin teases, forcing you to say the forbidden name.

“jake, stupid.” you roll your eyes, placing the cup onto the nearby coffee table.

“jake’s been alright. we went to nationals and he made us win the golden cup.” jaemin bragged, proud of the moment. “he’s a great guy you know.. i think he misses you.”

jaemin’s words had you for a minute, lost in your thoughts. you couldn’t imagine your ex of almost 5 years missing you, or even holding onto the feeling you.

“you’d think by now he’s probably seeing someone.” you tried to brush off the thought of jake, as much as you tried, he always came back to your thoughts.

you went into your childhood bedroom, your bed made the same way you left it, all your childhood goodies remained safe and tucked exactly where you left them. you skimmed through your shelves, looking past all your school awards and achievements.

your eyes became fixed on a stuffed bear jake had bought you after finding out you won your volleyball tournament, the matching bracelets you bought on a school trip, and other goodies you had saved.

the idea of throwing away anything that belonged to your past relationship hurt you, it was almost like you were throwing away the memories and the idea of him, which was far from the truth. ever since that talk with your brother, you wanted to see jake again, you just needed a way to.

you decided to grab a few essentials for dinner that night, your father promised to make all your favorite comfort meals but needed a few more things. as you were about to check out, you noticed a familiar face at the register.

it was jake, something about his appearance was different. he looked more mature, his hair got longer. he wasn’t the jake you knew back in highschool, he was far from that. nervously, you walked to the register jake was working at. his eyes widened as he met with your figure.

“y/n.. no way?” jake says, he stops scanning your groceries, giving you his full attention.

“hi jake..” you smiled nervously, it had been a while and it was clear you both were nervous.

“when did you come back?” he asks, his dark eyes meeting with yours, sending a familiar feeling up your spine.

“today actually..my dads making dinner tonight so i had to pick up some things. so you work here now?” you ask.

jake nods, smiling dearly. “ i do, it helps pay for university.” he resumes scanning your groceries, placing them all in a bag. “that’ll be $21.97”

you reach in your wallet to grab your card, you hold out the card for him to take and swipe. jake’s hand gently touches yours, you don’t pull away, instead you found yourself yearning for another subtle touch. as jake swipes your card, returning it to you, your fingers touch his.

jake’s face flashed a shade of pink, he grew more nervous. “have a good day y/n.. hope to see you soon.” he waved goodbye, his smile was just how you remembered, soft and sweet.

jake went home that same night, his thoughts were consumed with you. he wondered about what happened after you moved away, what your life was before coming back. he sat on the couch of his apartment, scrolling through his socials as he normally would. suddenly, his phone rang, causing him to jump out of his thoughts.

“hello?” jake answered, it was jaemin.

“hey, you wanna come over and play that new game that came out earlier this week.” jaemin asked, setting up his console for two players.

“yeah i’ll be there.” jake hung up, he grabbed his coat and a few snacks before heading back out.

jake arrived within 5 minutes, while him and your brother stayed up playing video games, you sat in your bed, your attention growing strong onto a book you’d recently gotten into. within a few hours of gaming, jaemin has fallen asleep on the bean bag chair he sat on.

jake got up slowly, he made his way to the door and opened it softly. his figure made it into the hallway, walking towards your half—closed door. jake knocked softly. “can i come in.”

“yeah.” you said, sitting up in your bed and placing your book to your side. “what are you doing up so late?”

“jaemin fell asleep.. and honestly i can’t sleep.” jake sat by the end of your bed, you could hear the tiredness in his voice and his eyes.

“how come?” you asked, leaning against the headboard behind you.

“because you’re back in town.. and i’m always thinking about you. but now, you’re here.. you’re consuming my mind so much y/n.” jake stopped, realizing he had said too much.

“i should go back.. shouldn’t i?” you asked, unsure if what he said was a good thing or bad.

“i don’t want you to go back, your home is here..with me.” jake leaned in close, the closest he’s been since your last moment together as a couple.

jake’s lips softly pressed against yours, pulling you into a sweet and soft kiss. his lips on yours was a familiar feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. you slowly pulled away, jake had realized what he just did, he quickly backed up.

“i’m sorry.. i shouldn’t have done that.” jake got up from your bed. “i’m sorry y/n..” he quickly left your room, leaving you alone in your thoughts, questioning what happens next.

it had been a few nights since the incident in your bedroom, you refused to tell your mom or anyone, except yunjin, your childhood best friend.

you and yunjin were getting ready for a holiday party, you both wore matching red dresses and a similar heel. “so he kissed you?” she asks, finishing up her makeup.

“yeah he did.. i don’t know what to do now.” you sat down, getting ready to place your heels on.

“i say go for it, i mean your brother told you he misses you .. and he pulled that? you should absolutely go for it.” yunjin stops. “only if that’s what you want.”

“i do.. kinda?” you said, you were confused and lost in your thoughts.

life with jake again didn’t sound so bad, in fact you both grew as the years progressed, you matured as individuals and that was what mattered.

you and yunjin arrived at the apartment complex the party was being held at. the music was blasting, drinks were on the table and everyone was enjoying themselves. you sat down on a couch, your drink in hand as you watched everyone have a good time.

“wishing jake was here.. maybe he’d keep my company.”

you thought to yourself, when in reality, you didn’t know how to talk to him after the incident in your bedroom. you sipped your drink, when suddenly jake appeared from the crowd.

“looks like you’re not having fun, parties have never been your thing.” jake smiled, a hand reaching out towards you. “come.. let’s go outside for a bit.

“you remembered..” you smiled, taking his hand as you both walked out to the balcony. “of course i do..” jake adds, opening the door to the spacious area.

you and jake stood beside eachother, it was quiet for a moment, silence consumed most of the air, followed by the loud music coming from inside.

“i miss us.” you blurt out, a rather surprised look forming on jake’s face. “ever since i moved back here i was afraid of seeing you again.”

“why’s that?” jake asks, his hand leaning against the cold medal of the balcony.

“i don’t know..” you sighed. “we’re both confused, are we no-“

jake’s lips crashed onto yours, a sweet kiss you received weeks ago. the smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, it was all too familiar. his hand rested on your lower back, holding you close to him.

“i know what i want.. and that’s you.” jake smiled, holding you close to him. his eyes met with yours, sending a rush of shivers down your spine.

“i want you as well.” you smiled, leaning in to kiss him again.

[dsireland86]

Hello! I have a dad!Noah request that i cant stop thinking about!!

Can you please do something where bad omens is playing a show and its Noah’s daughters 1 year birthday, his daughter and wife are up in the balcony of the venue watching the show and Noah points them out to the crowd and does something special for his daughters first birthday? 🤍

This has been a long time coming! Thank you to the Anon, who requested this and has waited so respectfully and patiently for me to get it out. 🤗🤗🤗

1st Birthday

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12@sister-sebastian

The birth of his baby girl was the proudest day of Noah's life, next to marrying you. Even though the birth plan didn't go as expected and there was a close call, everything turned out just fine in the end. His daughter was the most perfect thing in the world to him, next to you, of course. She looked like you, except she had a full head of dark hair like Noah's and his brown eyes, instead of your green.

As Baby Davis grew, she became the apple of her Daddy's eye. Noah spoiled her rotten, not just with things, but with his love, too. When she cried in the middle of the night for whatever reason, Noah got up with you, and unless she fell asleep on you, he was the one to get her back to sleep. Middle of the night cuddles were some of Noah's favorites.

Now, it was her 1st birthday, and unfortunately, Noah and the guys were on the road. Noah hated it, grumbled, and complained the whole day because he should've been home, celebrating his baby girl's 1st birthday. Already having a plan in motion, you kindly told him you understood that the date couldn't be changed because of availability and that there would be plenty more birthdays to celebrate. Your love, patience, and understanding were things Noah never took for granted. Brushing tears away, he hung up the phone, completely oblivious to the smiles on his bandmates' faces.

The show that night had begun. Noah tried to give it all, suppressing the feelings of sadness for not being with you and his daughter, but it just didn't work. What was worse was that Noah hadn't heard from you since early this morning, sending his head reeling with the worst thoughts. His heart was hurting a little too much tonight, and it was starting to show.

As the smoke cleared and the clear lights came on, Jolly stepped out on the stage first, strumming the soft chords of the band's most popular song. Noah teared up again, not sure if he could go out and just pretend he was fine when he wasn't. But he looked out and saw all the many, many faces of the people who came to see him and his bandmates and realized he owed it to them.

When his tear-filled eyes scanned the balcony, they stopped quickly, paralyzing Noah where he stood. The faces staring down at him were a blur at first, but after clearing his eyes, he saw them standing there beyond all the noise and lights. You were standing directly in the middle of the balcony, holding your daughter, who was nothing but a bouncing bundle of happiness. You waved to him smiling and blowing him a kiss, making him smile in return as he pretended to catch your kiss.

Noah was in shock as questions ran through his mind, questions like how you managed to get here so fast, did any of the guys have a hand in this, and why would you go through all of this trouble? Whatever the answers were, he didn't care at the moment. All he wanted to do was go out there and perform his best for the fans who paid money to come see his band play.

Noah gripped the microphone stand, holding it as if it was the very thing keeping him up at the moment. He looked over at Jolly, unable to hide the tears glistening in his eyes. He smiled at his friend who grinned back at him, making Noah huff a light laugh. When the bridge came, Noah looked up and waved to his family, laughing when you took your daughter's hand and waved back at you. The little girl giggled and bounced in her mama's arms, making Noah's heart well with pride and joy.

"I want everyone to do me a favor. Pull out your phones, lighters, whatever you have, and hold them up in the air as high as you can get them. Good, good, very nice, good job. Now, if you would look toward the balcony, directly in the middle and wave to my sweet family, who've flown all the way out here to see us perform tonight." The crowd did as Noah asked, making you feel completely embarrassed. Noah smiled, laughing as you glared at him with your dark green eyes. "Hold on, love I'm not finished," he said to you, and the place erupted with light laughter. "Tonight is the most special night of this band's history, you wanna know why? Because that precious little girl up there, being held by her mama, my wife, is turning a year old today." The entire venue filled with applauses, whistles and shouts of happy birthday

By this time, Nick, Jolly, and Folio had paused the song, waiting for what was coming next, already having a pretty good idea. "I need y'all to help me sing "Happy Birthday" to my baby girl. Her daddy had to be here tonight and it really hurt me to be away from her on such a momentous occasion. But lucky for me, I married a woman who is the kindest, most caring, most loving and of course, the most beautiful person I know. She made it possible for me to celebrate the life of my daughter tonight with my family. So, please help me sing.

The crowd came to life, louder than they had that night as Matt embarrassed you even more by putting a spotlight on the two of you. Noah watched how you focused your attention on Baby Davis, watching the beautiful glow of your aura shine brightly. He suddenly needed to be near you.

Jumping from the stage and making his way through the crowd, Noah climbed the staircase to the balcony, thankful to the people who parted and made a way for him to get straight to the two of you. He gathered both of you up in his arms and kissed you hard yet so full of passion and it took your breath away. "I love you, so fucking much," he laughed, laying his forehead on yours. He took his daughter from you, kissing her sweet little cheeks and hugging her tightly. The audience cheered, making Noah's heart flutter with happiness and making this the best show Bad Omens had ever played.

[melancoley]

WHAT MOVES THE WORLD

SYNOPSIS: when you’re born into a burning house, you think the entire world is on fire – that was kakashi’s reality. always surrounded by fragments of war, kakashi grew up with only the purpose of surviving beating in his heart. for him, nothing else existed in the world but war – that was kakashi’s philosophy. until you showed up. and, like spring, you came with the promise of hope and warmth and ended up bringing an inevitable change that would forever alter the life, and heart, of hatake kakashi.

PAIRING: hatake kakashi x gn!reader WORD COUNT: 5.811.

TAGS: soulmate!au, strangers to lover(s), fast-paced, unrequited love, kinda miscommunication. angst, fluff, hurt/no-comfort. CONTENT: gloomy kid kakashi. confused young-adult kakashi. heartbroken adult kakashi. shinobi reader. you are full of life & love talking to kakashi. conversations about stars, wars & love. he is the captain of your team one time.

WARNINGS: mention of sakumo's death but nothing explicit. you are going to break kakashi's heart, so be ready.

COLE'S NOTE: hiii, miss me? ♡ so !! this fic was originally a request and i posted this on my previous blog - if it sounds familiar, maybe u read the old version: ‘war & love’. i did some changes here and there to turn ur reading more pleasant and i hope i did a good job lol also !!! someone made one fanart based on this fic - if u know them/saw the fanart, please tell me so i can link it and give them the attention they deserve. ok, that's all ♡ have fun breaking hearts ♡

Not all stories are happy.

Not all soulmates are reciprocal.

Not all people could change their destiny.

Of course, in a perfect world, one person’s soulmate would also be another person’s soulmate. But reality went far beyond fairy tales and, as such, not all soulmates were mutual – and a person only knew their destiny when it was too late.

For years, people woke up with words tattooed on their wrists. They were simple, small words, just for the purpose of summarizing people’s love lives with their true love.

There were the luckier ones who woke up with little ‘fulfilled’ or ‘happily ever after’ on their wrists after their wedding. There were also those who had little ‘close call’ or ‘don’t try again’ written on their wrists on the coldest nights. And there were also those that read painfully ‘not destined’ or even ‘maybe in a next life’ that caused an inexplicable burning in the eyes of those who received such words. There were those who liked it, there were those who didn’t mind a mere tattoo and there were also those who did everything to force a soulmate into their lives.

The reality is that a person’s tattoo was already inscribed on them from the moment their soul found a body, always wanting to arrive at the right time to make itself noticed. And that was why no one could change their destiny.

But none of that matter. None of that mattered one bit to Kakashi. Because he only had one thing in mind: becoming strong and reliable. Kakashi didn’t care about dating or romance. Kakashi just wanted to do his duty as a shinobi.

But, of course, no matter how much he didn’t want to know, no matter how much he showed he didn’t want to know, his father was always attentive to him, always wanting to make him even minimally interested in the subject. After all, parents only wanted the best for their children.

And that was why Sakumo forced Kakashi to sit next to him on that cold, foggy morning.

“Kakashi, there is beauty in the midst of all this chaos.”

Sakumo’s voice was lost amid the fog, a phrase of pure harmony and delicacy trying to find its way in the thick maze of clouds and trees that invaded the territory.

There was a pause.

Kakashi didn’t deign to respond – he knew perfectly well where this conversation would end, he knew perfectly well what awaited him.

“The world is not driven by war alone.”

“Dad…”

Kakashi let a long and monotonous sigh escape his small lips, muffled by the dark mask, trapped inside the fabric without being able to show his total dissatisfaction.

“Not again. I have class in a bit.”

Kakashi stood up carefully and a little hesitantly. The truth is he didn’t want to leave his father alone. Kakashi didn’t want to abandon him once again at the mercy of fairy tales that did nothing but deceive a person.

However, Sakumo gave him no other choice. The cheap repetition of stories and princesses and kings became tiring – there was no longer any surprise in his father’s speech, there was no longer any hope for Kakashi.

As such, he was determined to abandon his father sooner than expected, his little feet taking short, uncertain steps to get away from his father, to get away from yet another unwanted conversation.

“Kakashi, why do you think there is war?”

Kakashi stopped his step with some abruptness.

That simple question from Sakumo echoed strongly inside Kakashi’s head, causing small dizziness in his mind where several possible answers appeared without any invitation, assaulting the little child’s sanity, making him question everything.

Why does war exist?

Of course, the main answer focused on people’s inability to be able to communicate with each other. There was also that need to come out and show their disgusting egos – that is the second answer to that question.

But there was something more.

There had to be something more.

People didn’t start wars just because they were bored.

…

Right?

Throughout his small and short existence, Kakashi has lived in a world of war and from an early age he was trained and taught to live and survive amidst so much devastation and anguish. Kakashi’s entire existence was shaped around the thick and aggressive sphere of what moved the world – war.

Would he have to know why?

In reality, Kakashi didn’t care if someone wanted to conquer the world, or if someone was kidnapped or killed unleashing days and months and years of pure destruction. Kakashi only had the mission to fight the war – that was all that mattered. Now the reason?

“I don’t care. Certainly the origin of all wars has an illogical basis. I have to stop the war. I don’t need to know why it started.”

Sakumo smiled and let his son go on his way, slowly losing sight of him as he began to be consumed by the fog.

Sakumo’s lips formed a perfect smile, a smile that left a trail of sadness with it because he knew perfectly well what was going to happen that day – Sakumo couldn’t really smile, not when he knew the end was near.

But there was something else hidden in his smile.

No matter how loud the voices screamed in his mind, the reality was that Sakumo feared for his son. Sakumo feared that Kakashi would never experience the beautiful pleasures of love as he himself had once experienced.

And there was nothing to do. There was nothing to do when Kakashi only focused on the human intellect. There was nothing to do when Kakashi purposely denied all the emotions that moved the world. There was simply nothing to do.

And Sakumo kept smiling.

His cold fingers gently stroked a small ‘there will be more in the next life’ that was fading due to the passage of time.

Several memories of a short and intense love began to haunt him in such a way that Sakumo didn’t even notice when the sadness on his lips turned into hope.

That hadn’t been the last life with his beloved – Sakumo knew that.

Then, muttering the answer to the question he himself asked his son, Sakumo stood up as well.

He knew perfectly well that there would be a second chance for his love. He knew perfectly well that Kakashi would realize the reality of the world they lived in. He knew perfectly well that everything would end well.

After all, there has never been a war without love.

Kakashi had lost everything.

There was nothing left for someone so young.

At fourteen, Kakashi’s entire life fell apart before his own eyes. Without family or friends, without anyone who could support him, he had lost everything – including his way in this world. Kakashi was wandering through the days, lost on the path of life, with no knowledge of maps or no guides that could help him.

Kakashi had lost everything, until he gained a new friendship, a new hope.

You appeared with the arrival of spring. Uncertain and always encouraging steps, an enormous desire for knowledge to be noticed in the intense shine of your sweet eyes, and wide smiles enchanting anyone.

You brought with you the breath of fresh air that prevailed at that time of year. Your feet encouraged so many beautiful flowers to bloom, new lives were created by you, new paths were drawn by your bare feet. The innocence of someone who had not yet experienced the evils of the world painted your smile with an extra tenderness that gave your cheekbones small splashes of the passion that the sun felt for you.

That spring day, when Kakashi saw you leaning over a hollow log, you carried something more than pure curiosity and amusement in your fingertips. You brought with you the hope of a new life for Kakashi, a hope that was felt by him when he, very clumsily, stopped you from rolling with the log to the bottom of the cliff.

Quickly, like someone blowing a leaf, something formed between you. A friendship? Probably. It was hard to be sure with Kakashi. But whatever you and he shared, you both knew it was something unique, something true.

A new stage in both of your lives was discovered in the other’s presence, a vast and longing wave of feelings beginning to form in you.

There was complicity between the both of you.

Since your first meeting next to that log, you and Kakashi shared an enviable complicity. Each one understood the other without the need to exchange words. A simple look, a simple sign, was enough for one to be understood by the other.

Days were spent together. Little secrets were exchanged amidst laughter and sighs, two distinct lives were soaked in pure melancholy, drenched in an extreme longing for a long-lost past.

And your adolescence has never looked so beautiful in the eyes of others.

Before you knew it, you and Kakashi have reached adulthood. And what used to be so simple and natural now seemed complicated with so many glances and hidden smiles and that hint of desire that clung to every word you exchanged.

Quickly, like someone forming a smile, beyond that very natural friendship, something more emerged between you. Something deeper began to emerge between the two of you.

“I don’t understand people’s admiration for the stars.”

You stretched a little as you sat next to Kakashi, the red blanket you always carried protecting you from the cold wind of that autumn night. “It’s something that has existed since the beginning of time. There are maps and photographs of them everywhere. Why the fascination?”

“It’s like war.”

The rest of your team rested silently on the ground, wrapped and cozy by a small fire starting by you, the tranquility of a successful mission being noted by their deep and steady breaths.

You and Kakashi were relaxing on one of the many branches of the most colorful and sturdy tree near your camp, your vision completely focused on the vast starry sky and the faint line of the horizon painted by the small mountains covered in snow.

There was silence on the ground and there was silence in the tree branches.

The breeze had been encouraged by several clouds venturing along unknown paths, giving you a little privacy on that very welcoming night. The moon was small, gaining strength for a more special date, slowly feeding on the desire of the most melancholy people who wrote to her. Every animal in the forest slept near you, the heat of the fire that crackled so loudly convincing the most diverse living beings to truly rest that night – except you and Kakashi.

“The war?”

You couldn’t contain the laughter that formed inside you, a sound so melodious and innocent that it woke up nature itself for a brief moment. The breeze had returned to you only to take with it the pure sound you released, keeping among the various clouds and stars the memory of your innocent question and laugh.

“How does the fascination of the stars compare to the war?”

“Humans can’t live without them.”

Kakashi was leaning against the trunk reading one of his typical books. None of his words were of the slightest interest. His uncovered eye cautiously read each line of the book. And he just waited for an answer. He waited for your curiosity. He waited for you.

“My dear Kakashi, I live well without both. Does that make me non-human?”

Kakashi let a long, amused sigh escape his lips and grab the echo of your new laugh. By closing the book and adopting a posture more favorable to a conversation, Kakashi let his movements continue over time.

The relaxing crackle of the fire calmly accompanied your team captain’s gestures as you fixed your eyes on Kakashi in the vain hope of encouraging him to speak or, at the very least, to hurry up.

However, there was no rush in Kakashi’s movements – all the time he took to sit next to you and stare at the stars seemed like an eternity to you.

But finally, Kakashi spoke.

“Of course you live well without both. But would you be the same person you are if they didn’t exist? Would you be complete if they didn’t exist?”

“Are you insinuating that we humans need to have stars and wars to be real?”

It seemed like an outrage. What Kakashi had just insinuated to you seemed to be wrapped in a thick layer of blasphemy and nonsense. The indignation at those words was reflected in the way you looked at the various leaves that framed Kakashi in an ethereal casing of change.

What was once a peaceful setting has now become a stage for nature. Strong winds and thick clouds slowly began to appear, hoping they could continue listening to Kakashi’s thoughts. Small nocturnal birds greeted you shyly with sweet and tender melodies that spread through the sleeping forest and made you smile.

“It’s what moves us.”

“I’m sorry,” you let out a fake laugh as you composed yourself on the tree branch.

You turned to Kakashi and focused your attention on his relaxed posture. Curiosity was caught in your eyes, and an eagerness to prolong that conversation could be seen in the way you so firmly and enthusiastically pronounced the words. “But I still don’t follow your reasoning.”

“A’right, let’s go step by step.”

“Please.”

Kakashi let out a small, almost inaudible laugh at your tender plea.

His eyes were now resting on your very curious posture: your arms adjusted the red blanket to also shelter Kakashi on that cold night; your eyes sparkled with the enthusiasm of yet another conversation with your best friend; your smile warmed Kakashi more than any blanket or fire could do.

“The stars, yea? We all know that since ancient times they have been the cause of all happiness and pain for people. People in ancient civilizations worshiped the stars as gods and saw in them countless stories and life lessons. And the very own people of those civilizations used the stars and their positions for agriculture and to make decisions. Are you following?”

“Yes, professor.”

You let out another laugh as you placed your legs over Kakashi’s and gently slid closer to him. The night was getting cold, the fire was on the ground and all you had was a red blanket and Kakashi.

And how he thanked all the gods for wearing a mask and for the moon being lazy that night. For, the pink tone he quickly adopted when he felt you so close to him only revealed how much he was waiting for that action of yours.

“So…”

A brief moment of silence followed after Kakashi’s statement.

Your captain’s reasoning was lost with your innocent act. It was a simple, affectionate gesture, something that had been repeated so many times. And, like every other time, Kakashi simply lost any coordination – the feeling of having you so close to him was fantastic, almost magical.

Thus, a brief moment of silence followed as Kakashi tried to find the thread of his thought, as Kakashi tried to grasp that thread without losing the very welcoming feeling of having you close to him.

“So,” he repeated again, his posture always relaxed and carefree, the mask being the perfect hiding place for his rosy face. “People adopted these little habits from their ancestors and that’s why there are so many people who still marvel at the stars. Of course, all romantics are also enchanted by them.”

“Why?”

Pause. Silence. Contemplation.

Why? In fact, that was always the question you asked. That was always the question that made sense to ask. Indeed, why?

Kakashi stared at the stars, trying to understand why. You stared at Kakashi, waiting for him to answer why.

But the answer never came. The answer never showed up and beautified your ears with sweet justifications and immaculate logic. For, realizing that there really wasn’t a defined reason for that question, Kakashi continued his reasoning.

Your captain’s voice was drawn out and always monotonous as if it were perpetually stuck in a timbre that conveyed a vast sense of comfort.

And you listened carefully to every word Kakashi said. You listened attentively to everything he had to say, always trying hard to follow his thoughts.

“Now the war.”

Kakashi paused briefly and took a deep breath.

A sigh that seemed to be filled with tiredness escaped his lips without realizing it – the memories of conversations he had with his father were felt at that exact moment. And they weighed. They weighed so much.

“War has always existed. Since the beginning of humanity there has been war. No wars, no humans. It is in our condition as human beings – it is our need. We crave destruction. We seek chaos. It’s in us. We need war to move us. Because, quite simply, we are the war. Without it, what would we do? Who would we be? That’s why there is fascination with it. That’s why there’s so much admiration. War is the stars of the most political. And the stars are the war of the most romantic.”

“So, by that logic, love is the war of the most philosophical.”

Kakashi looked at you with confusion expressed in his eye. The various and infinite stars reflected in Kakashi’s gaze showed that, in fact, he had not understood the use of your words.

Why did you decide to grab love out of nowhere?

Why did you decide to bring that taboo into the middle of a conversation that was so special to both of you?

Why?

You noticed the confusion in Kakashi’s lack of reaction. You realized that there must be doubt in your captain’s thoughts. Looking at Kakashi, it was easy to decipher the confusion he felt and you were intrigued, fascinated even.

“Do you really think that it is only war that moves the world?”

Kakashi opened his mouth but you didn’t know.

Kakashi closed his mouth again and you didn’t even notice.

In your captain’s mind, that last conversation he had with his father began to replay endlessly. Sakumo’s words came up whenever that dangerous topic was brought up – it seemed that Sakumo’s cheap philosophies tormented Kakashi until that day.

But it wasn’t always like that – no.

From the moment Kakashi met you, Sakumo’s haunting finally ceased.

There was no need to understand love because, quite simply, and even though he didn’t know it, Kakashi was experiencing that feeling so strong, so true. There was no need to recall a conversation that tried to explain something he was feeling, even though he couldn’t decipher that specific something.

Therefore, for several years, Sakumo’s words that were imbued with understanding and affection had been forgotten, completely erased from Kakashi’s memory.

No. Wrong. The words were still there, safe, inside Kakashi’s heart.

And it only took your question, your question so similar to Sakumo’s question, to free the words and torment Kakashi again.

“Kashi?”

You let out a laugh.

Kakashi certainly knew there was something more than war. He positively knew that not everything was destruction or contempt in this world. He had to know there was beauty and hope. He had to know that there was something good in this world. Kakashi had to know all this – right?

“Love?”

The word burned in Kakashi’s mouth, his melancholic eye locked in your eyes, the reflection of the universe trapped in your fingertips.

“Love.”

Your response came with a real, genuine smile. Your eyes showed a light and tenuous sadness while a tiny hope threatened to collapse at any moment.

You spoke like love itself. Delicate and light, your lips pronounced that word with precision and extreme ease.

You spoke like love itself. Your smile was genuine and embellished by the infinite stars, painted by the cool night breeze. Your eyes were sad, scared and fearful of the drastic change of an event, of a feeling.

You spoke like love itself. You spoke in a mix of emotions that were foreign to Kakashi, a thick ball of feelings and memories was trapped in your expression and made Kakashi feel confused.

You spoke like love itself, but Kakashi could only speak like war.

Kakashi spoke like war itself. Without any feeling, afraid of what his lips could utter, scared of the strength of the word itself.

Kakashi spoke like war itself. His every word and thought was completely calculated by him, no mistake to be uttered by Kakashi, the doubt that escaped his lips bringing a bit of wisdom.

Kakashi spoke like war itself. Kakashi spoke knowing perfectly well what awaited him, he spoke knowing perfectly well the answer to his question.

And between war and love there was a brief moment of silence. A moment of tranquility brought by the infinite stars.

Between war and love there was a moment of serenity that was heard only by your careful breathing, your gaze locked on each other, your smile slowly fading as time passed.

Love.

Was that the answer to his father’s question? No. It couldn’t be something so simple like that – but there was no such thing as simplicity in love.

“Love.”

Kakashi said his statement again, allowing a fragile and invisible line to escape his mask and take with it the bruning of that word.

There was something comforting in your gaze, something soothing in the way you held the blanket tight to you. There was something serene in the way you rested your legs on Kakashi’s, something welcoming in the way you and him stood together under that starry sky.

“Love” – Kakashi never found it easier to pronounce that word.

Days without you were boring.

Everyone knew that whenever you were on a mission without being on Kakashi’s team, he would roam the streets of the village like he used to do before he met you. Everyone knew that, for Kakashi, days without you simply didn’t make sense, not when you and he had already become fully accustomed to each other’s presence.

And that day wasn’t much different from the others.

Kakashi walked through the streets calmly. His feet shuffled without any energy, one of his hands sheltered in his pants pocket, the other holding a book close to his face.

Kakashi didn’t pay attention to what he was reading or where he was walking. Having already read and reread that book so many times, having already walked those streets countless times, Kakashi didn’t need to pay attention – because something else occupied his mind.

Your mission was somewhat complicated and you left with a good team, yes. But Kakashi couldn’t trust them, not when your integrity could be at risk – Kakashi could only worry about you.

A melancholy trail was left by Kakashi’s short and relaxed steps.

His eyes read and reread the same page over and over as his mind wandered to so many possible scenarios that could happen to you.

How he hated being away from you at a scary time like that.

Kakashi had been your team captain enough times for him to know you knew how to take care of yourself. But you were also distracted and that was what bothered Kakashi. A distraction from you, an ambush from them, a misfortune from the universe – everything seemed plausible when he was away from you.

He just wanted to be with you, to hear from you, to know that you were okay. He had to be with you.

But regardless of whether or not you managed to get home safe and sound, Kakashi spent his days monotonously without you by his side.

Even though Guy continued to make his occasional appearances, enticing Kakashi into meaningless duels; even though Naruto and Sakura could fill a fragment of the void you created; even though he knew you would be back next week, the reality is that Kakashi simply couldn’t live the days in your absence.

Not since that night under the starry sky. Not when the confession of a love came out disguised in a novice and somewhat shaky pronunciation.

What could Kakashi do? Just wandering around the village without your company. Just wishing every day was shorter than the last. Just peacefully wait for your arrival.

“Today I received my words!”

Naruto was always so loud.

Kakashi lazily looked up from his book and watched Naruto talk excitedly to Sakura and Shikamaru. The smiles they shared with each other were big, contagious, as if enticing Kakashi to also let out a small smile.

“Hinata is my soulmate!”

“I got mine during the war. It was Ino who noticed,” Sakura let out a small laugh as she recalled her chaotic reactions when she discovered that Sasuke was, in fact, the man the universe had destined for her. “What about you, Shikamaru?”

“Nothin’.”

A small sigh escaped Shikamaru’s lips and brought with it the hope of not having to worry about a soulmate anytime soon.

“What about you, Kakashi-sensei?”

“I don’t pay attention to that.”

A shrug was enough to direct the conversation back to Shikamaru.

But Kakashi kept thinking. Without realizing it, all the younger’s’ speeches were obstructed with the thought that, perhaps, Kakashi had already received his words.

It was true that Kakashi avoided looking at his wrist – since that night, the mere thought of love scared him.

Once, Kakashi simply didn’t care about something as trivial as love. The mere thought of such a feeling brought only haunting of long, uninteresting conversations with his father. But now, after that night, there was fear in the feeling. There was an extra fear that burned in Kakashi’s heart when he allowed himself the luxury of thinking about something as dangerous as love.

Ever since that night, the mere thought of love scared Kakashi because, quite simply, Kakashi couldn’t imagine that word without picturing you.

And Kakashi blamed you. Yes, you. You were the bringer of Kakashi’s destruction. Because, since that night, Kakashi really started to see the world differently. And he blamed you. He blamed that word. He blamed all the stars.

But had any mark already been engraved on his wrist?

Leaving conversations and laughter behind, Kakashi returned home.

A single goal was stuck in his mind. A single need ran through his heart. A single feeling moved Kakashi. Love.

The four walls of Kakashi’s room had never felt as cozy as they did at that moment.

It was the end of the day.

The last rays of sunlight were lost in Kakashi’s room. Shades of gold and hope burned fiercely in the three frames that rested delicately on his little furniture. Your face and Kakashi’s were adorned with light celestial tones from the last ray of sunlight, enhancing the joy and comfort that that photograph brought to Kakashi.

Night fell so quickly that it didn’t even give the sun a chance to warm Kakashi’s room.

It was cold.

The proud and bright moon contrasted with the weakness of that night, the stars taking the night off to give the various and diverse clouds their turn to shine.

There was darkness and there was cold.

In the midst of that discomfort, Kakashi looked for some warmth in his wrists.

His right wrist had nothing on it – the pale skin brought a bit of disappointment to him.

But there was still hope. There was still a second chance.

Cautiously taking off his left glove, Kakashi saw a single word shining in the moonlight.

‘Almost’.

Almost?

Kakashi’s mouth opened slightly on impulse as his eyes repeatedly read and reread that single word that was carved into his wrist.

How long had it been there? How long ago did fate decide to steal you from him? Almost? Why ‘almost’? Hadn’t his confession that night been enough for you? Wouldn’t the vulnerability with which he uttered and repeated that forbidden word have been enough for both of you? Almost. Almost? Why? Could he have done something? Could he have done nothing?

A wave of corruption completely washed away any and all hope Kakashi might have had. The curiosity that once drove Kakashi’s gestures was entirely replaced by regret and frustration.

Could he go back? Could he do something to change that word?

Surely if you arrived and he confessed everything he wanted and felt for you, maybe you would reciprocate his words.

No. Not ‘maybe’. Kakashi was sure there was reciprocity. That night left no doubt. The way you two spoke, the way you looked at each other, the way you pronounced the forbidden word.

Yes. There was definitely still a little hope, even if it was small. And Kakashi knew, as years of war had taught him, that hope would always be the last to die. Surely the same applied to love. Right? – you said it yourself: love is the war of the most philosophical.

Yes. Hope.

‘Almost’ wasn’t the word Kakashi had chosen to dictate his fate, no. It was ‘hope’.

 Clinging to that small flame that had quickly lit in Kakashi’s heart, he watched the remaining days pass slowly and wistfully.

Kakashi just wanted you to come back as soon as possible. He just wanted to cheat fate once and for all and grab the happiness he had been so deprived of. Would it be too much to ask?

‘Almost’. Pathetic.

‘Almost’. Of course it wasn’t almost – Kakashi would never allow it to be ‘almost’.

And when you arrived, Kakashi carried the war with him – he was determined to change his destiny, even though he was scared. There was determination in his steps, Kakashi’s eyes so empty conveying a bit of uncertainty, of fear, of regret in actions he should have done long ago.

Waiting for you for so long only gave Kakashi permission to think, to ponder all the opportunities that were missed by him in fear of a confession made of decent words – he could make a list of all the waste that was lost.

The ‘almost’ was right.

Years passed – Kakashi should have known better. He had so many books about it, he should have known better. It wasn’t enough to just say a complicated word. It was not enough to just feel a complex feeling. Kakashi had to show – and Kakashi never showed.

But now Kakashi was determined to change that. Kakashi was determined to change his destiny.

Just like war, Kakashi came to you without any warning.

Just like war, Kakashi caught you unnoticed in a spontaneous embrace of longing and nostalgia. It was rare for Kakashi to express his love, but you couldn’t deny that it was something that always made you smile.

You hugged Kakashi back, your arms fitting perfectly around his body, the way his strong arms squeezed you in a comforting embrace making you more relaxed. Although you had already arrived at the village two days ago, it was at that moment that you truly felt at home.

“How’s the mission?”

That wasn’t the question Kakashi wanted to ask – it wasn’t what he had rehearsed.

But you started a long, drawn-out monologue about all the ups and downs of that mission that lasted almost two weeks. A rollercoaster of emotions was reported by you as Kakashi listened attentively to every word out of your mouth.

And, while he listened to you, he looked intently at your arms.

Kakashi’s empty eyes searched for tattoos made by the stars. The curiosity to know your fate was what moved Kakashi’s eyes and forced him to look at your body.

Until finally he saw it.

‘It was close’.

It was close?

What absurd words had fate given you? It didn’t make sense.

Was it close that you didn’t end up with Kakashi? Was it close that you fell into someone else’s love trap? What did those words mean? What did they mean in a vast sea of ​​possibilities?

“And I got my tattoo on the way here.”

You extended your arm and gave Kakashi permission to read your mark better.

‘It was close’.

“I was confused by what it meant. But it made sense when I found…”

“Him?”

Him.

Kakashi knew who you were talking about.

You didn’t need to confess names or draw portraits with your words. Kakashi always knew who you were talking about, because he was the one you loved before you met Kakashi, and he was the one you loved during the early days of your friendship with Kakashi.

“Yea.”

The smile you let out reminded Kakashi of love: shy and so happy, a hint of accomplishment displayed in the beautiful curves of your lips, a sense of comfort trapped in your confession.

Love.

Damn you.

“He walk with me to the village and is staying here. Today we’re going to our first date.”

And that’s when Kakashi realized – no one could change their destiny.

With a fake smile and forced curiosity, Kakashi allowed you to nail long, painful barbs into his heart, erasing any hope he still had left, completely staining the forbidden word for Kakashi.

With a fake smile and tears trapped in his eyes, Kakashi allowed your happiness to flood his darkness, little stars of your joy faintly painting Kakashi’s pain.

Because, yes. Despite everything, Kakashi was happy.

Even though he would be happier with you, Kakashi was happy for you.

You overflowed with love.

Extreme happiness wrapped in a film of euphoria delicately filled your room. Your eyes shone with the emotion of a love about to be lived. Your wide smile managed to be contagious, even though Kakashi didn’t want to smile.

You were the embodiment of love.

You were hope and comfort from the first day he met you and he hated you for it.

Kakashi hated you because he knew he would never be able to find someone who had as much of an impact as you did. He would never be able to find someone who made the word ‘love’ mean as much as you did.

It was the way you spoke so happily about each other. It was the way you still cared about Kakashi like you still liked him. It was your own way of being.

You were kindness and simplicity hidden behind a strong sphere of complexity.

You were, undeniably, love.

And the conversation that night never made as much sense as it did at that moment.

In Kakashi’s realization, in the midst of all the suffering caused by you, you continued to move Kakashi. The way you still made Kakashi eager to see you. The way your company was still, and always would be, crucial to Kakashi. The way he still loved you after you caused him so much anguish.

You have always been the personification of the word love. And, just like the feeling itself, it was you who moved Kakashi’s world.

♡ feedback is always welcomed ♡

[justacatiguess]

When I first met Bellara in Veilguard, I didn’t think I’d end up enjoying her company as much as I do now. At first, she felt… superficial. Her initial dialogue seemed too on-the-nose, and her habit of predicting game mechanics—like saying, “This is the last barrier!” or “We’re almost there!”—came across as overly fourth-wall-breaking or hand-holdy. I remember thinking, How would she even know that? I dismissed it as bad writing and moved on.

But as I got to know her, something started to shift. During one of her personal quests, there’s a moment where you’re disabling a power source, and she implies there will be a second wave of enemies. A companion asks how she knows and she points out it's a pattern from previous battles.

It reminded me of a codex entry where she talks about a book she read for the team's book club—how she lost the book halfway through but still guessed the twist correctly.

It hit me then: this is just how her brain works. And that’s when I started to see myself in her. I think a lot of people with neuro-divergent tendencies, like me, have the knack for predicting stories/patterns or drawing correct conclusions faster than others or from seemingly out of nowhere. I started warming up to her as I saw more of myself in her personality.

But my newfound affection for Bellara lasted until exactly the next part of the quest, where we came across a door puzzle. Bellara decided, despite my gameplay settings of no hints or quest direction, to explain every little nuance of the puzzle in quick succession as I explored the room.

I got so annoyed. I remember thinking, Why won’t you just let me figure this out? Sadness grew as I realized poor writing had stunted my gameplay.

And then it hit me: Oh. Wait. This is me. I do this all the time to people.

If people or situations are moving too slowly, I start trying to take control. Not intentionally. Usually from nervous or excited energy, when my filters are weak or emotions are high. At this point, Bellara is very motivated to get to her destination, so it makes sense she would react this way.

So for me, her too-obvious statements and unsolicited advice is actually great dialog writing, because it fits the character's point of view, AND it elicited an emotional response from me as a player, where I had to figure out why the heck she was being so annoying in the first place. I like when games make me frustrated and I have to step back to see why a character was motivated in some way.

Bellara IS hand holdy. But not necessarily to cater to a clueless player. She can't help it. She's smart, knows things, and Rook is too slow to come to conclusions on their own, and she has places to BE.

[glisten-inthedark]

I think the most exciting thing about Byler for s5 is that by episode 1 any Byler doubts for Byler fans should be assuaged

The moment Mike shows romantic interest in Will, we know.

I truly believe that the Duffer Bros will not kill either of them off. For one thing, they are well aware that that will be the bury your gays trope and will look and be extremely bad. Especially if they were to reveal Mike as having feelings for Will and then kill him off, that would be extremely egregious. Then they’ve said that s5 is a Will-centric season, that the show is going to come full circle, we know Noah cried during the final episode table reading and both David and Charlie framed it as a heartwarming thing not as a sad thing when talking about it so I think it bodes very well. Also, like I think you’ve said (?) Hopper’s speech in s4 about everyone he loves gets hurt essentially gives the Byers + El plot armor, because any of them dying now after that would be like confirmation of this in Hopper’s eyes and potentially push him away from the Byers “for their safety” and make him feel like he’s the black hole in their lives.

So, the second that we see Mike harboring feelings for Will or pining after him or any 👀👀👀 interaction where Mike is being weird, or flirty, or suspiciously shy, or flustered, or any obvious or even fairly subtle but notable instance of him behaving like he’s pining after Will,

We know. Byler doubters out there, we’ll know! And I’m so excited for that moment to happen!

[additional staving off the Byler Doubt note]

It would also be incredibly stupid and make absolutely no sense if they were to reveal Mike as having feelings for Will, and then pair both of them with some random person or put Mike back with Eleven after making it clear that he does actually have feelings for Will. Like them deciding to stay friends or Will going “actually never mind I moved on you and even though you, my best friend, and the previous love of my life are now confessing to me or pining after me, I’m going to set all my sights on this new random dude”

The moment we see Mike pine for Will in s5 it’s all over

Hello!

Ok, Tumblr has something against me because I spent like 5 minutes writing a response and this little shit just refreshed and I lost the entire thing.

Firstly, oh yes! The moment we see Mike pining for Will, it'll all be over. I understand some people might be concerned over logistics or timing or the love speech or how people might perceive the time and all of that, but I know the writers can use so many things to their advantage to show that the story was always meant to be this one.

Truthfully, I can't imagine a world where they'd kill either of them, not only because they know about the bury your gays trope, but because of how deeply they made Will feel towards Mike - which is also why I can't conceive them giving him some random dude to fall for when they could have done this last season and it'd be much more feasible -.

Because at its core, Stranger Things is and always will be a love letter for all of those who were outcasts, for those who were treated differently for things outside of their control - whether it was their race, their gender, their appearance, or their sexuality -. And we know what some people claim, what they say about being in the 80's and blablabla.

But imagine the message it'd send: "You know that boy who believed he'd never fall in love? Well, he was wrong. And you know that boy who thought he was a mistake? He is wrong - he is not a mistake for liking other boys -. And you know that boy who tore his heart out because he didn't believe he could ever be loved back? He was also wrong, he was loved back. He is loved back. You know that boy that didn't think he'd get a happy ending? He was wrong, he has it now".

This isn't just a message for those who grew up in the 80's, is a message for general audiences and for anyone else who tries to tell LGTBQP+ children and teenagers that happy endings aren't meant for them.

I could go on and on about how the UD might signify the Shadow (Jung) or even ourselves as a society about how the monsters besides representing puppetry are representations of things within ourselves we refuse to touch on but that's another story for another post lmao.

My point is, that killing either of them would just further solidify things that I truly feel they are trying not to cement in their own show.

And the crazy thing about the whole "another random love interest" is that it makes no sense with the story even they set up. From the scripts, is safe to assume Will has had feelings for Mike since he was at least 13 years old (probably even before then), and we don't even have to look at the scripts to know that. We can assume so due to how far he was willing to go to make Mike happy.

I was talking to my friend about it and I realized that the van scene is Will's "Little Mermaid" moment. To clarify: Little Mermaid was written by Hans Christian Andersen and was supposedly meant as an allegory for the feelings he harbored for another man who by that point was married to another woman. Is Will sacrificing his own voice, his own fin, and his own feelings - turning into sea foam - just so that Mike could be happy.

I said it before and I feel like a broken record for reinstating it, but the writers themselves made it clear that Will truly loves Mike. Is not an infatuation, is not a crush, is not limerence, it is unconditional love. He said it himself, that he'd always need Mike aka he'd always love him. He was willing to sacrifice himself and his feelings for him - and sure, we could argue that he could stand to learn to be a little bit more selfish - but the essence of what makes love true is that it isn't selfish, is that is willing to let the other go.

So presenting someone else - especially when they could have done that already and not have Will be this deeply in love with someone he feels he can't have - would be so shallow and frankly stupid after everything they have set up.

I always joke that if Byler is queerbaiting, is the stupidest case I've ever seen because why would they put so much detail, thought, care passion, into it if it'll amount to Mike going right back to where he was before and for Will to end up with someone he can't love as much as he already loves Mike. How is that fair to him?

Anyway, I get passionate about this - as if you couldn't tell already lmao - so I'm sorry if I got sidetracked.

I hope you have a great day and (:

[lu-is-not-ok]

I just finished reading your hong Lu npd analysis post!!! And it was great!!! I’ve been going over his lines from previous cantos with this new reading in mind and it’s been very insightful

I was just wondering how we should interpret this one line from canto 6 in the npd reading? i don’t have the direct quote on me but basically Ishmael says something to heathcliff like “hey why did you pick on hong Lu for being a spoiled rich kid when you grew up in a manor yourself”

and hong Lu says something like “hehe I don’t mind it at all!” which confused me a bit since other times it does seem to bother him when people discuss it like you said

do you think he genuinely means this?? Or is this like a lie (conscious or unconscious?) to protect his self esteem?? that’s what really gets me with hong Lu - idk how self aware he is of his deflections and avoidant behavior? Like obviously he is probably blatantly lying in some cases (like about why he left home) but other cases idk?

Also thank you for your analyses! You’re really feeding the hong Lu fans myself included

o7 I'm glad people are enjoying the analysis. Hong Lu is a character that really grabbed me with just How Well Written he is as a liar who happens to be good at what he's doing. The way he navigates social encounters is genuinely so interesting to pick apart, I love it.

Anyway, regarding the moment you're talking about, these are the specific lines.

There's a few ways one can read that I think.

For one, it could be him responding to specifically the hypocrisy that Ishmael is highlighting here - that he doesn't mind the fact that Heathcliff was being kind of hypocritical when bullying someone for being rich despite being raised in a rich household himself.

It makes sense. Hong Lu, more than anyone, would probably understand why someone would hate rich people despite being raised among them, so he doesn't really care about the seeming contradiction of that.

There is also another option, that being the fact that all things considered, Hong Lu might just find Heathcliff's particular brand of insults genuinely funny rather than offensive. There are multiple moments where Hong Lu actively teases Heathcliff, with one moment in Hell's Chicken having him actually confirm that that's what he was doing in that scene.

Hong Lu isn't above fucking with people sometimes just to get a reaction out of them, with Heathcliff appearing to be Hong Lu's most common target of that. Him saying he doesn't mind Heathcliff's insults could be because he genuinely finds them so entertaining that he doesn't register them as something harmful to his self-esteem.

And of course, there is that third option of it being just a bullshit lie and him simply trying to keep up the air-headed unbothered persona he's been projecting the whole time. After all, this isn't him being directly insulted here, but simply recalling past events - and it's a lot easier to lie about your past feelings than it is about the ones you're feeling in the moment.

[ghostlymakercat]

Part 2

The night was a blur for both boys sitting at the end of the hall, Regulus was kind of numb to all of it focusing all of his attention on the door his brother was behind. He was partially aware that someone(Fleamont) placed tea and something to eat before him, but food was literally the last thing on his mind at the moment.

Effie still wouldn't allow them to see Sirius, and Regulus couldn't help himself but resent her a bit for it- he knew that none of it was her fault, but his hands were shaking with nerves and he just couldn't stop thinking. He must have fallen asleep at some point( he felt guilty afterwards), because when he woke up Jam-Potter was nowhere in sight. He tried to ignore tingling in his side where he was pressed against the older boy.

Potter had to write to Remus at some point of the night and Lupin sure weren't taking his time, showing up five minutes after the owl was sent. Regulus heard Potter and Lupin talking in hushed voices, every word laced in worry, Regulus felt bad for them, he couldn't even imagine the panic that would take over his brother if Remus got hurt, in any way. They were two souls in one body, they belonged with eachother, not on the opposite side of a wall.

He remembered how concerned he felt when Sirius came to him about his feelings for the Welsh boy, he was worried- he didn't want his brother to get hurt...again, but there was nothing to worry about really they are so sweet, so gentle with eachother. He couldn't imagine better person for his brother, Remus may look intimidating at first but really he's so respectful with anyone, so patient and calm and he contrasts Sirius so well, Sirius was loud and fill of energy and Remus... He was so calm and kind, willing to wait.

He wished to comfort the taller one but weren't quite sure... How, he didn't know how to comfort anyone, but he had to do something, Remus looked devastated and so closed into himself, he wished to get him out of his head. Potter sat on the other side of the youngest, all of them sitting in silence, drowning in their thoughts. And Regulus knew how scary could your thoughts be, could get. And really that was the last thing any of them needed.

So he started talking: "when we were little- he paused to get his breathing under check "well... Eh we didn't have had much toys, with all the ' You will not disregard this family with this nonsense' stuff. I'm- i'm pretty sure Sirius grew up without any toys well at least until i came along. He, he made me little teddy bears- sew them from his old clothes. I've kept the first one he ever made me."

"what is the name?" He got startled from his memories by Remus. He didn't know how, but somehow he forgot that they were there with him.

" Nara"