#on a side note: I don't check the blog out every day okay so if you tagged that blog and got no feedback know we're offline

[syninplays]

Unrelated because I don't remember sharing this here: there's this blog (aka @arsimtecture ) I run with a friend and where I share nice pixel interiors from both ts4 and ts3 (ts2 might come eventually, but couldn't find much that caught my eye under the usual tags) aaaaand I'm inviting all of you to share your pretty pixel interiors or builds with me there!

I admit I'm more likely to share stuff that looks more "realistic" but I'm willing to share any other style if you guys are willing to tag me or @arsimtecture in your posts! (You can also tag it as #arsimtecture as we track that one too ;)

[soleilpinto]

Changing Lanes (Pepe Martí) ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

“I thought I’d never be okay, but now I know that I’m okay.” (Niki, La La Lost You) ⋆˙⟡ —

Synopsis: After a crush on driver Paul Aron leaves you heartbroken, you unexpectedly find yourself pursued by Campos Driver, Pepe Martí. As he gently shows you kindness and patience, you start to realize that love isn’t as hopeless as it once seemed.

Genre: Angst, Slowburn + Fluff !!

Pairing: Pepe Martí x Fem!Reader

Warnings: This entire fic in itself, because it was a random idea I had at 12 am after finding out the guy I started gaining feelings for had a girlfriend (PLEASE 2025 be good to me, I can’t keep going through these things even if it is for the plot)

Note: Honestly, I just wanted an outlet to vent out my feelings because I haven’t felt the pain of heartbreak in over a year and this one felt extra bittersweet because I couldn’t even form a connection with the guy. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it! Love lots, and don’t forget to like + reblog as always.

Chasing the Apex (Paul’s Version) !!

For as long as you could remember, you had noticed that love wasn’t always the kindest towards you. From one-sided crushes to having your heart crushed entirely by your ex, you honestly don't understand why the universe could be so cruel. That was until you met Paul.

As one of the social media managers for the Formula 2 grid, you handled posts and updates throughout race weekends. Being around the same age as most of the younger drivers, you got along with them pretty easily.

But none of them caught your attention quite like Paul Aron.

You’ve always noticed Paul. It’s hard not to, really. He’s the kind of person who effortlessly draws attention with his charm, his smile, and the way he carries himself—like he’s not just a talented racer, but someone who genuinely enjoys life, which made him one of the highlights of your first season on the grid as well.

His presence lights up a room, and though you’ve crossed paths a few times during FIA events or networking opportunities, you’ve never had the chance to talk to him. But every time you see him, something about him draws you in, leaving you with a flutter in your chest that you can’t quite explain.

It happens again one evening, at a Porsche networking event. You’re standing near the refreshment table, trying to stay calm as you check your phone, making sure everything’s ok for your blog post the next day. Then you hear a voice, smooth and warm, cutting through the chatter.

“Is the Wi-Fi in this place always this spotty, or is it just tonight?” Paul says, his tone light and friendly.

You glance up, slightly startled. His smile catches you off guard, as if he’s genuinely amused by the moment, not just making small talk. He’s standing a few feet away, holding a drink in one hand, his other hand casually resting on the edge of the table.

You laugh softly, trying to steady your nerves. “Honestly, it might just be this place. I’ve had worse reception at airports.”

He chuckles, a sound that’s easygoing and somehow puts you at ease. “I swear, Wi-Fi is the real race here. Always competing with my connection.”

You can’t help but smile at the way he talks, as though you’re both sharing a private joke. The conversation stays light, but it’s easy. There’s no awkwardness. He listens as much as he speaks, and you feel like, for a few moments, the world narrows down to just the two of you. But then, just as quickly as the moment began, it’s over. 

Paul nods, excusing himself to chat with someone else, leaving you standing there, feeling a strange mix of giddy and disappointed.

Over the next few days, you find yourself replaying that brief encounter in your mind, analyzing every word, every glance. Each time you pass him at the track or at another event, you catch yourself lingering, watching him from the corner of your eye, fascinated by the way he interacts with everyone around him.

He’s effortlessly kind, almost too charismatic for his own good, and you can’t help but be drawn to him even more, though you keep your feelings to yourself.

It’s all so easy for him, and you can’t shake the thought that he’s the kind of person who could make anyone feel special. Even if he doesn’t notice you, you find yourself quietly admiring him from afar.

One evening, you’re idly scrolling through social media, distracted by the usual updates and posts, when something catches your eye. It’s a tag in one of Paul’s photos, leading you to a girl’s account. You hesitate for a moment, but curiosity wins out, and you click on it.

You had seen this girl around and recognized her as the new Hi-Tech GP social media intern.

At first, it’s easy to tell yourself that you’re just browsing. After all, it’s just another account, right? But soon, you find yourself diving deeper—scrolling through the posts, the captions, the shared moments between them.

Each photo feels like a glimpse into a world you’ll never be a part of: the vacations, the inside jokes, the smiles exchanged in private moments.

At first, you brushed it off as nothing more than a friendship, but the more you saw, the more it seemed like there was something more. It’s all perfectly curated, as if everything about their relationship is designed to be seen, to be admired.

Before you even knew it, you find it. A highlight that’s pinned at the top of her profile—a video of Paul looking at her with such tenderness in his eyes.

The way he smiles, so genuine, so in love, sends a sharp pang through your chest. You swallow hard, the weight of the moment settling in. He’s taken. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

As you sat there, staring at more photos of them smiling, traveling, and sharing intimate moments (there were even photos of her with his family and you almost felt like throwing up), the weight of it settled on you.

It hit you all at once—the reality that Paul wasn’t just out of reach, but he was with someone else. And in that moment, the pain was sharper than you expected. You’d been holding onto a hope that was never yours to have, and suddenly you’re reminded of why you never pursued a connection, until now.

Another rush of emotions hit you like a bus—jealousy, sadness, and a crushing sense of inadequacy. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to the girl in the photos, wondering if you were ever enough or if you’d ever measure up to what Paul seemed to have with someone else.

It seemed impossible, especially when you were just a regular girl, whilst Paul’s girlfriend looked like she modeled during the off-season.

It didn’t make sense, you knew that. After all, you had no claim over him. But the feelings didn’t care about logic. The more you thought about it, the more it hurt—you couldn’t shake the sting of seeing them together, knowing you weren’t ever meant to be part of his story.

It felt like a cruel reminder that no matter how much you’d hoped, love was always just out of reach. The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you can’t bring yourself to look away.

It is now the present and you feel better, but you haven’t fully healed from the trauma just yet. You were so determined to distract yourself from the pain that you had thrown yourself into work and your blog that you had created as an escape from the world.

The rhythm of curating content helps clear your mind, and you even rediscover hobbies you had set aside for too long in the midst of it all. You hadn't given up on love entirely but forced yourself to keep your mind occupied so that the pain would be the least of your worries.

Whenever the emotions and stress of work start to overwhelm you, you lean on your friends, finding comfort in their support and understanding. It’s not a perfect fix, but it helps you push forward, one step at a time.

Ever since you decided to swamp yourself with work, you started to find new friendships with the other rookies and drivers on the grid.

Pepe Martí is someone you’ve seen around before, but you’ve never really interacted with much. You were always mostly with Paul or Ollie, sometimes Isack, Pepe’s teammate, but you barely crossed each other’s paths unless it came to media or updates regarding the F2 socials.

Unexpectedly, as you start to bump into him more often, you start noticing his presence just a bit more. At first, it’s casual—a quick hello in passing, a smile shared before he goes on his way. But soon, it feels like more.

You start to notice how often your paths cross, as if the universe is aligning in subtle ways, but you digress, since you were way too focused on yourself and work to even think about anything else.

Soon enough, you find yourself hanging around the Campos Racing garage during the next few races. What catches you off guard is how warm and attentive Pepe is whenever you’re there to have a casual chat or just to relax before they get on track.

In every conversation, whether it’s about racing or something completely unrelated, he listens with genuine interest.

There’s no rush, no forced small talk. It’s as if he cares about what you’re saying, and that’s something you didn’t realize you’d been missing.

You first notice it one afternoon when you’re at the F2 paddock, buried in your phone and laptop as you work on a new blog post. A familiar voice interrupts your focus.

“Hey,” Pepe says, leaning against the fence next to you with a casual smile. His presence is relaxed but unwavering, as if he’s just always there. “I saw your latest post about the Monaco Grand Prix. That was pretty solid. You have a real way with words.”

You glance up, a little surprised by the compliment, but you return his smile. “Thanks,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’ve been diving into the details a bit more lately.”

You weren't used to compliments on things like your blog, but when someone notices how much work you put in, you can’t help but feel bashful.

Pepe nods, clearly interested. “I can tell. I didn’t realize you knew so much about the strategy behind it all.”

“F1 is a lot more than just the race itself,” you explain, feeling a spark of excitement. “It’s the stories, the tactics, the behind-the-scenes stuff that gets missed.”

He seems genuinely engaged. “You should do a piece on how the strategy changes with the weather conditions next time. It’d be interesting to see your take on it.”

You blink in surprise, almost speechless. “That’s a great idea, actually,” you admit, a little flustered.

Pepe grins. “Glad you think so. I’ll be reading it when it’s up.” He straightens up, giving you a wink before walking away, leaving you both flattered and puzzled by his sudden interest.

‘Lock in, Y/n. God, now is not the time to be flustered because of a guy,’ you try to shake off the feeling but can’t help but feel a newfound sense of appreciation towards Pepe.

Over the next few days, you notice Pepe around more. It starts with small things—asking for your opinion on the latest race results, asking if you’re going to any of the after-race events, or simply offering a casual “Hey, how’s the blog going?” when he sees you walking between the pits.

Each time, his words are light but thoughtful, as though he’s genuinely interested, not just making small talk. There’s no rush to any of his actions, no pressure—just a quiet confidence that feels both comforting and intriguing.

One evening, after a long day of racing, you find him sitting in the garage and staring out at the grandstand as he is looking up at the sunset. You walk over, hesitant but curious.

“Mind if I join?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks up, his smile warm and easy. “Not at all. The view’s better with company, anyway.”

You sit down next to him, and for a few moments, there’s just the hum of the distant engines and the warmth of the setting sun. Then, quietly, Pepe turns toward you.

“I like how you see things,” he says, his voice sincere. “The way you talk about the races, the details... it’s like you bring a whole new perspective to it. Not many people see it the way you do.” You look at him, surprised by his words.

“I’m just... trying to share the side of it people don’t always notice. You know, the stuff that’s hidden.” Pepe nods slowly, as if processing your words. “Yeah, I get that. You have a way of making the unseen things feel important.”

For a moment, you both sit in comfortable silence, the connection between you growing deeper with each passing second. He doesn’t push. He doesn’t rush. He’s just there, a steady presence, showing up when you least expect it.

And slowly, it starts to feel like maybe this quiet, consistent attention is something more than just friendly banter.

It wasn’t noticeable at first—mostly small gestures that you brush off as coincidence.

One morning, after a particularly tough day at the track, you’re buried in your laptop, trying to finish up a blog post, when you hear footsteps behind you.

You look up to find Pepe standing there, holding out a Red Bull can in your direction with a small smile.

“Figured you could use this,” he says, his voice casual but thoughtful. “You looked like you could use a pick-me-up.”

You blink, surprised by the gesture. Energy drinks weren’t exactly your choice of drink when it came to caffeine, but you were grateful for the drink. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

Pepe shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes. “No problem. I’ve been there—long days, late nights. Thought a Red Bull might help since I don’t really like coffee.”

You accept the drink and open it, feeling a warmth spread through you—not from the Red Bull, but from the kindness in his eyes.

It’s not the first time he’s done something like this. The more you think about it, the more you realize that, over the past few weeks, he’s been going out of his way to make sure you feel seen—whether it’s checking in on how your day’s going or making sure you’re okay during hectic moments.

As the days pass, he starts sharing stories about his own struggles in racing—how he’s dealt with pressure, the challenges of balancing his personal life with his career (not to mention the shitty luck he’d been having lately).

His openness catches you off guard, and you find yourself listening intently, feeling a connection you didn’t expect.

“You’d be surprised how much racing can mess with your head sometimes,” he says one afternoon, leaning against a wall as he talks. “But you have to push through, even when everything feels off.”

His words linger with you long after the conversation ends. And for the first time, you see him in a new light—not just as someone who’s kind and attentive, but as someone who truly understands the ups and downs of life, someone who knows how to make you feel special without even trying.

Despite Pepe’s kindness lately, you hesitate. Every time he goes out of his way to make you feel special, you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest, but something pulls you back.

Your mind still lingers on Paul—the way he smiled at her, the way his presence felt so magnetic, even from a distance. It’s like an anchor you can’t shake, a feeling you’re not ready to let go of.

One night, unable to sleep, you find yourself texting your closest friend, Marina. You vent about everything—how much you’re drawn to Pepe’s attention, but how you feel stuck on Paul, unable to move past the crush that was never meant to be.

Your Marina’s reply comes almost immediately. "You’re holding onto something that wasn’t yours to begin with. Paul is in a relationship, and no matter how much you wish it were different, you deserve more than just hoping for a chance."

The words hit harder than you expect, and you feel the truth in them—like a weight lifting off your chest. You pause, staring at the screen, then take a deep breath. "I know," you text back. "I’m just scared to let go."

Your friend’s response is simple but reassuring: "Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It just means making space for something that’s actually real."

You close your eyes for a moment, letting those words sink in. And for the first time, you feel the weight of holding onto Paul begin to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of clarity. Maybe you’re ready to move forward.

It’s late one evening, and you find yourself talking to Pepe again, this time in the quiet of a nearly empty garage after a long day of media and racing.

The conversation starts off light, but as the hours pass, something shifts. You’re sitting across from him, both of you exhausted but not ready to call it a night.

Without warning, Pepe looks at you, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more earnest.

“You know,” he says, his voice softer than usual, “I really admire how you handle everything. I’ve seen the way you juggle work, racing, everything. You’ve got this strength about you that’s... rare. It’s not just about how you push through tough times, but the way you stay true to yourself, even when everything feels impossible.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his words. “I... don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replies, his gaze steady. “I just think you’re incredible. And I don’t think enough people tell you that.”

His words catch you off guard, and something inside you stirs—a warmth, a flutter of something new. The walls you’ve carefully built around yourself begin to crack, just a little.

It’s not just the compliment itself, but the way he says it—without any expectation, no hidden motive. Just pure, honest admiration.

You look at him, really look at him, and for the first time, you begin to see him in a new light. He’s not just kind and attentive—he’s genuine, and that genuineness makes everything about him feel different, something you didn’t expect.

You sit in silence for a moment, letting his words settle in. The weight of the day, the pressure of expectations, and the uncertainty that’s been following you around seem to melt away, if only for a brief second.

You didn’t realize how much you needed to hear that—to be seen, really seen, for who you are and not just what you do.

Pepe shifts a little, his gaze still warm and steady. “I know and understand that it’s not easy. I’ve seen how much effort you put into everything you do. But don’t forget that you deserve to have someone see you for the amazing person you are, not just for what you’re capable of.”

You swallow, blinking away the unexpected emotion. The vulnerability in his words makes your heart ache, but in a way that feels freeing, like a weight lifting off your shoulders. “I... don’t know if I believe that,” you admit, your voice softer than you expected.

“You will,” he says with a smile that makes your chest flutter. “Because you’re worth it. You’ve always been worth it.”

The sincerity in his eyes, the quiet but powerful way he expresses his admiration—it breaks through the last of the walls you’ve built up around yourself.

In that moment, you realize how much he’s not just seen you, but understood you. And maybe, just maybe, it’s time to start seeing him, too, not as someone in the background of your thoughts, but as someone who could be a part of your future.

Suddenly, you realize that this connection with him could be more than just a passing feeling.

As the days pass, you find yourself spending more time with Pepe—whether it's during work events, casual hangouts, or just those quiet moments where the world seems to slow down. And with each interaction, you begin to notice the little things that set him apart.

It’s in the way he listens when you talk, really listens, as if he values every word you say. He doesn't just hear you; he understands you.

When you ramble on about your latest fashion idea or a new post you're planning for your blog, he’s there, nodding along, offering insights or just genuinely interested in what excites you. He makes you feel like your passions are important, even if they seem trivial to others.

And then there’s the way he encourages you, not just with words, but in his actions. When you doubt yourself, he’s there to remind you of your strength, to tell you that you’re capable of so much more than you realize.

It’s the little things—those quiet words of encouragement when you need them most—that make you feel seen in ways you hadn’t expected.

But perhaps most of all, it’s the care he shows for your happiness. It’s the way he asks about your day, not because he feels he has to, but because he genuinely wants to know.

How your day went, if you’re feeling okay, if there's anything he can do to make things better. It’s a kindness you didn’t know you needed, and slowly, you begin to realize that these small acts—these simple gestures—are what make him someone truly special.

When things aren’t going as smoothly for him, you’re there to support him in the same way. You’re with him through the highs and the lows, whether it’s during a frustrating race where he’s forced to retire early or a weekend where things just don’t seem to click.

After a no-finish result in one of the races, you tell him: “You gave it your all. It wasn’t your day, but I know you'll bounce back.” It’s the small, thoughtful words that show him you care, even when he’s at his lowest.

Then comes the Azerbaijan Grand Prix. You’re watching the race unfold, and your stomach drops when you see his car lose control and crash.

You hold your breath, your heart pounding, as the screen cuts away. Your thoughts race until you hear an update confirming that he’s okay, but you can’t help but worry. You know he’s going to be shaken up, even if it doesn’t show.

You’re one of the first people to get to the medical bay after the crash. When you walk in, Pepe is sitting on the bed, his helmet off, his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion.

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, there's a silence between you. He’s still processing everything that just happened.

“Hey," you say softly, approaching him. "You good?"

He gives a small, tired smile. "Yeah, just... it's frustrating, you know? I thought I had it under control, but... things happen. Not to mention the lock up we had the other day,"

You pull up a chair beside him, sitting down without a second thought. "I saw it. But you’re here, and that’s all that matters." You place a hand on his arm, offering a quiet reassurance. "I’m just glad you're okay."

He meets your eyes, his expression softening. "Thanks for being here," he says, his voice sincere. "It means a lot, more than you know."

For a moment, you just sit there together, the chaos of the race weekend fading into the background. And as you talk about the race, his crash, and what’s next, you realize just how much you care—not just for his career, but for him.

The connection you share feels deeper than ever, something solid and real.

After everything—the highs and lows, the moments of doubt and clarity—you find yourself standing at a crossroads.

You think about all the times you’ve hesitated, the moments you almost pulled away, unsure if you were ready to move on, still clinging to a love that never was. But as you look at Pepe, sitting beside you, as present and steady as he’s always been, something clicks.

It’s not just the way he’s supported you, or how he’s always seen the best in you, even when you couldn’t see it in yourself.

It’s how he makes you feel, not just valued, but cherished for exactly who you are—the messy, complex, imperfect you. In his eyes, you’re enough. And for the first time in a long time, you believe it, too.

Pepe’s kindness, patience, and unwavering support have shown you a kind of love that’s not based on fleeting moments or unattainable ideals. It’s real. It’s grounded. And more than anything, it’s filled with hope—a hope you hadn’t realized you’d lost until now.

So, when he looks at you, his gaze filled with something deeper than friendship, you finally allow yourself to take the leap. You smile, a little unsure, but ready. “Pepe, I think I’m ready for this.”

He grins, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that makes your heart flutter. “Me too,” he says, his voice low and genuine. “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready.”

In that moment, you know, with certainty, that you’ve chosen the right path. You’re not just moving on—you’re moving forward, with someone who will walk beside you every step of the way, supporting you, loving you, and reminding you that you’re worthy of all the happiness you’ve been seeking.

Epilogue:

Months have passed since you and Pepe decided to give love a real shot, and life has never felt brighter. His unwavering presence and quiet strength have become your anchor, and the happiness you’ve found together is undeniable.

The laughter you share, the quiet moments together, and the way he looks at you with so much care and love, it all fills you with a peace you didn’t know was possible.

It’s the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix weekend, and Pepe is in peak form. You’re on the edge of your seat, clutching your puppy’s leash as the race unfolds.

When Pepe crosses the finish line in first place, the roar of the crowd barely registers as you’re too busy cheering alongside his parents with all your might.

Later, you meet him in parc fermé, tears of joy in your eyes as he steps out of the car. He doesn’t hesitate, pulling you into a tight hug, his helmet still tucked under his arm.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he whispers, his words meant just for you despite the bustling celebrations around you.

That evening, you’re by his side as the team celebrates his victory. The champagne flows, and the glow of his achievement lights up the room. But it’s the quiet moments you share—when he leans over to steal a kiss and murmurs how much you mean to him—that remind you how lucky you are.

The next day, as you’re strolling through the paddock together, you catch sight of Paul in the distance.

He’s talking to someone, but his eyes briefly flicker to you and Pepe. His expression shifts for just a second—an unrecognizable look you can’t quite place—but you don’t dwell on it.

Pepe squeezes your hand, and your attention snaps back to him. He’s smiling at you in that way that makes your heart race, the way that reminds you of why you chose him. The life you’ve built together is filled with love, laughter, and hope—and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

© soleilpinto 24’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[cosmal]

“you can hold my hand, if you want” with remus?? love your writing so much i legit check ur blog everyday ❤️

little lies

summary — remus lets you hold his hand in a crowd.

content —remus lupin x reader

note —thank you so much i love you!!!! also this kinda sucks my laptop kinda started to glitch so I wanted to finish this up !!!

You’re not entirely sure why you agreed to come along tonight with your friends. Your head is pounding, and when you get shoved about, you get so dizzy you feel like you’ll fall over.

You'd made the mistake of pushing your way out of the crowd to go get some water. Remus had offered to go for you, but you really needed to escape the swarm you'd all found yourselves in before you couldn't breathe.

You walk slowly towards the edge of the crowd away from the bar and realise you have no idea where you came from. You don't know where you left your friends or if they've stayed in the same spot. The idea of blindly shoving your way through the crowd terrifies you but you don't want to be alone for however long it takes you to find one of them.

James is tall, so it shouldn't be hard.

Before you think you should start your search, Remus is emerging through a thick group of sweaty bodies. He's not broad but he towers over most of them and they part without him even asking them to. It's quite envious.

"There you are," he says firmly over the sound of the band. He looks as flustered as you feel but he holds his own.

"Sorry," you say not quite as loud as you should, though Remus frowns like he's heard what you said. "Just needed a drink."

"You're okay?" he leans in so his mouth can find your ear. Unlike you, he's almost louder than he needs to be. Your ear stings.

"Yeah," you say reassuringly. You won't ruin his night, because you know him. If you tell him your head is hurting he'll want to take you home. You want to, but you also want to spend time with him.

"Your head's not hurting?"

He can read you like an open book. It's a quality of his you have a love-hate relationship with. "No," you lie. He seems convinced.

You've become good at convincing him with your little lies. Like when he asks you if you're hungry and you tell him you're not because you hate it when he spends his money on you. Or when he asks if you're cold and you tell him you're okay because you won't have him give up his jacket for you.

Or how you hide your feelings for him every day because the idea of him rejecting you is terrifying. That might not be as little as the others but you like to pretend.

"Do you want to find the others?"

You look over his shoulder where the band is playing and then at the crowd where it's swarming near the front. You spot Sirius to the side and think it's not too far. You don't want to leave yet.

"Yeah," you tell him and mirror his pretty smile. Though, you're sure yours isn't as earth-shattering.

You're sure he can still sense your anxiety but you won't let him ask you anything when you start to move. He turns and you hide yourself in his side so you can dodge the people that seem to part around him. Mostly because it feels good to stick by him.

You wince when someone steps on your foot and Remus turns like he's about to say something to them but decides against it when he catches your eyes.

"Hey," he says and nudges your shoulder with his, "you can hold my hand if you want to."

You blink, startled that you've been caught, but then you're doubling down because it's always like this. He always knows how to make you feel better.

You mutter what you hope is a thank you and take his hand. His skin is soft under yours and the hem of his sweater tickles your wrist.

You feel overwhelmed, but not because of your surroundings, probably because you're holding Remus's hand. Still, you feel safe when he starts to guide you back to your friends and shields you from any damage from the drunk crowd.

[acewritesfics]

I'm Late | Jay Halstead

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request: From anon

Fic Type: Imagine. Can be read as a prequel to Baby Halstead

Prompt: "You're my voice of reason but right now I need you to shut up." 

Warnings: Mentions of feeling sick, period talk, pregnancy.

Word Count: 1,921

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST | TAG LIST SIGN-UP

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

As Y/N studies the file Trudy handed her as soon as she entered the station, she is slouched over with her elbows resting on her desk and her fingers massaging her temple. She finds it difficult to focus on the written words on the papers, and the more she tries the worse her nausea and headache becomes. 

Jay ends their conversation with Atwater about their weekend plans and turns to face his girlfriend when she doesn't respond to a question, he's asked her. His face furrowed into a worried expression. She didn't look well last night and this morning, her mood was all over the place, and she had been strangely quiet since they had their morning shower together. 

"Are you okay?" he asks after he gets her attention. 

"I'm fine," she sighs as she shoots up from her chair and rushes out of the bullpen and into the restroom, a wave of nausea washing over her once more. 

Jay wasn't the only person who noticed the odd shift in Y/N. He steps out from behind his desk as Kim gets up from hers, assuring him she'll go check on her. As he sits down, he nods, silently thanking her. His concern for his fiancée has him unable to concentrate on the file in front of him. He leans back in his chair, monitoring the entrance, nervously chewing his cheek, and tapping his pen against his knee as he waits for her to return. 

Y/N is slumped over one of the toilets in the restroom, unsure if the bile in her stomach will come up. She shuts her eyes and wills her stomach to stop churning and her head to stop spinning. 

"Y/N?" From the doorway, Kim's quiet voice can be heard. 

She stands up and braces herself against the cubicle's metal walls as her head spins, calling out to her from the end stall, "In here." 

"Are you sure you're alright?" Kim asks, her expression apprehensive. In comparison to five minutes ago, Y/N looks worse. She nods her head before swinging her head side to side. The brunette detective steps forward to comfort her. "What's wrong?" 

She informs her, "I'm late." 

"Late?" Kim questions her. When Y/N gives her a look, Kim's eyes widen in surprise. "How late are you?" 

"About 2 to 3 weeks," she responds, recalling last night when she realized her period was late. She never kept track of it, but every month, give or take a few days, she always got it around the same time. However, it was never this late.  

She first reasoned with herself that she might not have remembered having it two weeks earlier since she's been so preoccupied with work, the upcoming wedding, and the drama going on between her parents. But then she remembered back to seven weeks ago. She'd gotten her period the Monday before her, and Jay went away for the weekend. She was down to her last two sanitary items when it ended the Friday morning they left for the cabin. She made a note in her phone to get more when her period started next. That Friday night and Saturday had been spent mostly in bed and there might have been one time they forgot to be careful. 

"Do you believe you might be?" 

"Maybe. I'm not sure," She breathes. 

"Have you spoken with Jay?" 

Shaking her head, Y/N "It might just be pre-wedding jitters, right? When you're under pressure, periods can be late." 

"Is Jay still going out with Will tonight?" Kim enquiries. 

She nods, "He is. Will said something about it being bachelor party business." 

"Well then, how about a girls' night at your place?" Kim suggests. "I'll provide the snacks and pregnancy tests, and you can order some pizza and choose the movies." 

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Y/N asks, looking at her anxiously. 

"Hell no," Kim smiles.  

She asks jokingly, "What would I do without you, Kim Burgess?" 

"Crash and burn," Kim responds. "This is what best friends and work partners are for. Now, let's get back out there before Jay bursts in with guns blazing." 

Kim leads Y/N out of the restroom, then let's go of her when they reach the bullpen. Jay is still waiting warily at his desk when Y/N approaches him. Her legs are crossed in front of her as she leans on his desk with her arms folded across her chest. 

Looking up at her with the same deeply concerned blue eyes as before, he asks, "Everything okay?" 

"I've got a headache but it's finally going away," she tells him, and it's not a lie. "Kim is coming over tonight while you're out with Will. Bachelorette party business." 

"You know, we could disappoint them both, forgo the bachelor/bachelorette parties, and just spend the night together, just the two of us," he proposes, a hopeful look in his eyes. Jay is still unaware of his brother's plans for his party, and a part of him is afraid to find out. 

"And rob them of their duties as best man and maid of honor?" she asks, smiling and feeling considerably better than a few minutes ago. For the time being, she pushes her possible pregnancy to the back of her mind as they focus on wedding talk. "We'd break their little hearts, and I don't think I can handle Kim staring at me with those puppy eyes." 

He concurs with her, saying, "I don't think I can handle seeing them too." 

She reassures him, "It was a wonderful suggestion, though. Perfect even." 

He smiles again, this time with a mischievous glimmer in his eye, "Maybe next time." 

"Next time?" she asks, pretending to be upset, knowing he was joking with her.  "Honey, I may not be the first person you said, 'I do' with, but I'm damn sure going to be the last." 

He chuckles, "I meant in 40 years when we renew our vows, and the kids are all grown up." 

Her smile falters a little at the mention of kids. Jay catches it, but Hank exits his office with a piece of paper in his hand before he can say anything. 

"Halstead, Upton, I need you two to go check out this person," he orders, handing Hailey the piece of paper. 

"I love you. Be safe," Y/N instructs Jay as he gets up and puts his jacket on. It was something the two of them say often before they leave the district without each other. 

"I love you too and I will," he responds, kissing her lips briefly before following Hailey down the stairs. Y/N returns to the file on her desk, now that she can focus better on it. 

Later on in the evening, Y/N sat by herself on the couch as she awaited Jay's return from his night out with his brother. Before Kim and Hailey, whom Y/N had invited when she and Jay returned to the district, forced her into the bathroom, she managed to spend a significant portion of the night avoiding the two pregnancy test boxes that were sitting on the kitchen counter. Hailey didn't require much persuasion once Kim explained what was going on; she immediately agreed to whatever Kim had planned. It was a two-on-one situation, and Y/N regretted agreeing with Kim's plans for tonight. 

Just as they were about to find out the results, Jay called Y/N to let her know he was on his way back home. Kim and Hailey both agreed that they should leave so that she could talk to Jay alone but made Y/N promise to keep them in the loop. After the two left, Y/N became too anxious to look at the tests herself and left them sitting on a paper towel beside the bathroom sink. 

It felt like an eternity passed before she heard Jay's key in the lock and the door opening. She stands up and moves around the coffee table to meet him halfway.  

"Hey, can we talk?" she asks him, her voice wavering with nerves. 

"Yeah. What's up?" he asks, the bright smile on his handsome face fading as he takes in her nervous appearance and voice.  

Biting the inside of her cheek, her head is flooded with 100 different ways she can bring up the pregnancy tests in the bathroom. She starts rubbing her hands together, to give them something to do and to stop herself from pacing a hole in the floor. She's never felt so anxious about telling someone something before.  

"Talk to me," he gently tells her when she remains quiet, too far inside her own head. Jay looks at her worried and takes her hands into his. He strokes the back of her hands with his thumb, calming her slightly. "What's going on? Did something happen tonight? Are you feeling sick again? Did your headache come back? Are you-" he begins to ramble only to be cut off by her finding her voice again. 

"I love you so much, Jay. I really do. You're my best friend, the love of my life and," Y/N starts, her voice thick with nerves. "You're my voice of reason but right now I need you to shut up." 

"What's going on?" he asks, letting her words roll off him. "You've been acting weird since last night." 

Her mind blanks as she tries to find the words to tell him that on top of becoming a husband in a month's time, that he almost might possibly be a dad also and the tests to determine whether he will be a dad or not are currently on the bathroom counter waiting to be looked at.  

Getting an idea, she hurries into the bathroom, leaving Jay standing there confused by her actions. He doesn't recall a time that he's seen her like this, ever, and to say he isn't concerned would be the biggest understatement of the century. 

She comes back holding the test in her hands and tells him, "I can't bring myself to look at them." 

The look on his face turns from one of concern to a look of surprise. "It would explain a lot."  

She nods agreeing with him as she sits on their couch. He moves to sit next to her. "If the tests are positive, the only thing that's going to change is that we're going to be parents." 

"And if they're not?"  

"Then we can try when we've settled into married life." 

"I love you," she says looking at him, still avoiding looking at the tests.  

"I love you too," he smiles, kissing her softly. He takes one of the pregnancy tests from her, "Ready?" 

She nods again. They both look at the tests in their hands, both having the two small pink lines come up.  

"Looks like we're getting married and having a baby," Jay says looking at the test in her hands, seeing that one is also positive.  

Y/N looks at him, seeing a small smile on his face. "Are you okay with that?"  

"When I proposed, I said I wanted to do it all with you and that included starting a family. It's just happening a little sooner than we expected. So, I'm more than okay with that." 

"How did I get so lucky?" she smiles lovingly at him.  

"I ask myself that every day," he says kissing her again, his hand moving to her belly. "You're going to make an amazing mom." 

She covers his hand with hers, her smile growing, "And you're going to be an incredible dad." 

TAGGED: @mrspeacem1nusone - @halsteadbrasil - @allisonargent144 - @cs-please - @alexxavicry - @nicole-19s-world

[machiten]

thats my seat!

academic rival scaramouche x gn!reader headcanons

warnings: scaramouche(bro is a whole warning), foul language(it's scaramouche we're talking about here so), reader is mentioned to have bad eyesight, fights, angst, academic validation, bad parenting

barely proofread lmao im tired, it's 3:15 am and im starving. there will be a chapter 2 ofc i just wanted to post something goddamn my blog has been empty for so long (4 days) didn't have a way to keep track of the word count but it's kinda long. anyways hope u enjoy!!

oh god

when i say rival, i mean full on brawls on the school hallway

so let's say you've been top of your school since day one. your name has always been at the top of the score board every exam, always class representative, and well known as a smart kid ever since you steped on school premises.

you work hard to keep your grades up, your parents pay enough attention to your succesful brother and none for you

having a successful brother plants high expectations on you. i mean, he did very well, so why cant you? you both have the same blood running through your veins. your parent's praise, that is all you've ever wanted. and yet you're not even informed if there's a family outing, leaving you in your house alone

it has been like that for years

not until one day, you enter into the classroom and someone else is sitting in your chair. someone unfamiliar is sitting on your chair.

"hey, excuse me. i sit there." you pointed at what is supposed to be, your chair. "what, i dont see any names on it." Ok, what. when you finally look up to the culprit, my goodness. Fierce purple eyes that looks like it holds the entire universe, his skin as fair as a maiden, lips plum as a springs fruit, a beauty mark at the underside of his right eye, and his hair a unique color of indigo that is cut in a weird jellyfish-ish hairstyle. while yes, he looks ethereal, not gonna lie (if he had longer hair you might've mistaken him as a girl) his personality certainly does not match his elegance. an annoyed look currently adorned his face, as if you disturbed his peace.

"done checking me out? i know im hot, i get that look everyday so dont ever think you're special." and now it changed into a cocky smirk. the nerve! not only is he sitting on someone else's chair but it seems like his head is getting bigger too. "well excuse me, i havent seen your around school until today so im guessing that you're the transfer student our teacher talked about last week. but do you mind finding a new spot, i sit there." you glared at him.

"no i like it here. here's a better idea, why don't you find a new spot. im the new student here, show some courtesy."

"no- what, go away thats my seat!"

"alright everyone, settle down- oh, i see that the new student is here already," the teacher finally came in the classroom, cup of steaming hot coffee in his hand. Everyone sat down on their seats while you are still standing up waiting for this person to look for another seat. Lmao guess what, he didnt move.

"(name), c'mon sit down. i know getting a new friend is exiting but we have to greet the new student properly. now go find your seat."

"wait but sir--"

"sit down, (name)"

"yeah that's right (name), sit down" a voice beside you spoke. you looked over to the new student adorning a triumphant grin at your loss. and so you are now forced to sit at the back, barely seeing what's in front because of your poor eyesight, and wearing a vengeful spirit.

epic first meeting

the seats in the back are okay, its breezy and you now sit next to xiao (his music taste is so good) but yeah, you cant really see the board clearly so you get notes from mona at the front

at first, it was a one sided rivalry. how hated how rude and bratty he was and at that time, he didnt seem too care (like he get those everyday). but then he started fighting back and oh boy he hasn't had this much fun in years!

the way you retort back to his harsh words is so amusing to him. usually, no one would dare talk to him in a degrading manner but then you came into his life, claiming that he's sitting on your chair, and it was never the same ever again.

now, he looks forward to everyday. he rises up earlier so that he can sit at your chair first, he keeps looking at the classroom door everytime someone enters (in case it's you so that he can give that shit eating grin), he loves how your face gets messed up when he wins an argument, he loves how small your hands are compared to his when you have a brawl in the hallways, and most of all, he loves it when you give him the shit eating grin when you win something (he says he let's you win sometimes because he pitied you, but is it really?)

to him, this is fun, amusing, entertaining. but to you? you've never felt this much hate in a human being, ever.

scaramouche is smart as fuck and he demonstrated that loud and clear

he aced the math test that the teacher gave that wasn't even taught to him

in presentations, he speaks loud and clear and you can really understand the point he's making

he doesn't really like group works (you noticed) but if he was put in a group, he does most of the job flawlessly

sports? oh of course. he's really good at baseball (pitcher). he's also good at other sports but not as good as baseball

oh and pray that you don't get him as your opponent in debates, you will be grilled like a brisket

did i mention he sleeps in like 70% of his classes? it's not like the teachers can do anything about it. he excels in everything, at least let him sleep as a gift

the only times he would be awake is when he pulls on your strings

but of course, you're also good in all of these, that's why you both are rivals

you fight almost everyday for the top spot (and for your original seat) to the point where its a daily routine to everyone else to see you both pinching and arguing in the classroom

He doesn't have any close friends (ahem childeahem) and it's either bc ppl are intimidated by him or he just doesnt give a fuck about friends

maintaining grades is one thing, winning against him is another

you are very intellegent, yes, but you work very hard for your grades every night. losing sleep studying for upcoming quizes and making sure your projects are perfect. unlike him who doesnt even try

you havent seen him study once

and it makes you see yourself lower. you're both equally in par with your grades but thats when he doesn't even try. what happens when he takes everything seriously? what if he studies as hard as you do? where will you stand then?

but when you got 2nd place for the 3rd time this year, he took it too far

"what the hell?! this is the third time!" you looked at the results in the bulletin board expecting to see your name in first place. you studied hard, right? so then why,,,

"oh oops, looks like i did a little too well again this time. aw and i didn't even answer some of the questions because i felt bad for beating you the last two times." a snicker is heard behind you and sure enough, piercing indigo eyes is looking at yours in pure pity. "thanks i guess. are you happy now? that's three times in a row!" aether beside you is now having a deadpan expression, expecting the worst. 'alright here we go again'.

"oh yes very, you know what makes me even happier? your declaration that you're inferior to me. why do you even try anyways, it's clear to everyone that im better. you're just wasting your time burying your head in your books and notes when we both already know who's coming at the top. imagine not meeting your parent's expectations." he's now looking down on you, beating you up with words that you know damn well are true. but that doesn't mean you're not gonna fight back.

"what."

"oh you know, maybe if you tried harder, the cost of your education might be worth it for your parents. honestly, if i we're them id--"

before he could finish his sentence, a loud echoing smack is heard all across the hallway, making everyone's attention turn to the commotion. scaramouche head is now turned the other way, his cheeks beginning to flare from the hit as he glared at the culprit, you. "you motherfucking bitc-!" you tackled him and due to surprise, he fell back. aether is now alert, shouting your name trying to get you to your senses.

you gripped scramouche's collar, rasing his head from the floor and slamming it back down. "you're an asshole, you know that?! i try my best everyday and this is what i get?!!" he fights back, hand on your arm that's trying to get a hold of his hair and another on your neck, holding back your weight.

"you don't know what it's like!! you will never know what it's like being compared to your brother everytime they get a chance!! you dont know what it's like going home to nothing but words of disappointment when you did everything you can to get their approval!! you will never know what it's like for your efforts to go to waste!! you will never know the feeling of being kicked out of your own home and live in a run down apartment!! i work day and night, i lose sleep everyday, i barely have anything for myself to live, and now i have to deal with your ass every single day too?!!"

"(name)! calm down, hey-!"

"fuck off aether!"

every word you spat pricked scaramouche's heart and made him struggle from your assaults. this isn't fun anymore. he knew a bit of your situation, kazuha told him. but he never knew it was this bad. all he knew is about your parent's expectations. he didn't even attempt to fight back this time and just defends himself from your blows. 'shit, i took it too far.'

"you dont have to remind me of my incompetence! i already know, i know damn well i will never be enough!! you're right, why do i even try, right?! you're so fucking annoying, doing everything so effortlessly, like school is a nuisance!! can't i take a fucking break?!!" at this point, you cannot control your tears from falling into his cheeks, rolling down his porcelain skin.

"what are you--?!"

"why can't i be a genius like you?! why dont i have everything that you have?!! i did everything i can, what am i doing wrong?!" you are now saying intangible words that no one can decipher because of the mess of emotions you are feeling at that moment. you're about to deliver another blow when someone held you back.

"(name)! you're doing too much! thats enough!!" goddamn she is stronger than i thought, scaramouche deals with this everyday?? aether pulled you away from the tangled mess that you and scaramouche managed to create. you're struggling his hold but after a bit, you slumped down having no more strength to keep going, sobbing quietly. "...(name)?" aether said.

"...i am so tired of everything, why do i even keep trying. i.. i just want to make my parents proud..." sniffles could be heard from where you are being held my aether's arms. aether supported you from the groud and led you away from the scene and the prying eyes of other students. before you both can disappear completely, aether turned around and gave scaramouche a threatening glare. "i know you both bicker a lot but you took it too far. you are an asshole and you better change that attitude of yours or i will send you home even worse than your condition right now." and you both are gone.

scaramouche is still sitting on the floor, his arm supporting his weight, bruises are forming in his skin while he's craddling his cheek that is now very noticeably red and flaring from the slap you served him earlier. he doesn't know how to act, really. should he apologize? should he just walk away and like nothing happened? should he report you for physical abuse? he didn't know anything.

what he does know though is that he fucked up, big time. he knows that you'll never want to see his face ever again, he knows that nothing will be the same again, and he knows thag the feelings he has will never be reciprocated, after what he's done.

he actually just found out recently, when someone from the other class was making fun of you and he didn't like it one bit, he's the only one allowed to make fun of you, everyone back off. scaramouche can see the crowd dissipating, no longer interested since the main action is gone. he sat there on the floor the whole time, rethinking his life choices, wondering if he said things differently instead of those. would he be seeing you tomorrow? will you still argue with him about nonsensical bullshit? can he still hold your hand whenever you pinch him?

he heard footsteps and before he can look up, someone had smacked him in the head.

"what the fuck-!!"

"i want to say 'are you okay', but to be honest you kinda deserved that." a mop of ginger can bee seen hanging from someone's head.

"fuck off childe, and why did you smack me?!"

"because you deserve it. but y'know, it's nice having front row seats seeing you ruin your life because of that toungue of yours. aether's right you're an ass." he helped scaramouche from the floor, dusting his uniform from the filth. "ill take you to the infirmary." scaramouche can only nod, feeling lethargic after all that energy spent.

he hopes to see you the next day, acting like nothing ever happened.

part 2

[navibluebees]

TW: suicidal ideation and ed

can you write hcs for the recoms with a suicidal reader who struggles with self-harm and anorexia? sorry if triggering!!

Absolutely. 💞 I'll do my best to honor this struggle. I know it isn't easy. If any of you don't feel up to reading this, please prioritize your mental health. Also, please put your age at the top of your page. Trying to weed out minors. 🩵

All ageless & empty blogs will be blocked. No minors!

Zdinarsk sees you sucking in your stomach at the mirror, hands fluttering nervously at your sides. Her hands come down on your shoulders and your eyes meet in the mirror. She steers you away and distracts you with a movie.

Lyle noticed your weight loss after you got up every morning and worked out with him until he started to suspect and would subtly change the workouts to "try something new" when he just didn't want to push you too hard.

Mansk sees your struggle with food restriction and instead of trying to get you to eat a bunch at once, he's always making new recipes and will run up to you excitedly to try "just a bite".

Fike sitting with you quietly, just a comforting presence. Will make sure to cuddle and keep you warm, keeping your hands wrapped in his.

Zhang is always close behind with a giant hoodie ready for you to wear. Was worried when you felt dizzy and scooped you up to carry you around.

Warren is so quiet, you didn't hear him come into the communal bathroom and when he opened up the shower curtain, you stared at each other and he gently took the knife from your hand. He helped you clean up and put a bandage on. Right after, he crouched down and pulled you against him, squeezing you tight.

Brown always tries to make you laugh. Is constantly roping you into jokes and silly pranks on the others just to get a smile from you.

Walker always makes sure you take time for yourself and will make sure you go to the spa at Bridgehead regularly. if anyone tries to harass you, she makes sure that's the only time they ever do.

Ja always checking your cuts to make sure they're healing okay. His hands are gentle and kind.

Prager will sit quietly with you and hold you close to him. "I get it."

Lopez will cheer you on every day, arms up in the air just excited to get another day to be with you.

Quaritch caught you on the edge of the roof before, staring longingly at the horizon, just wanting a bit of peace. He pulled you from your thoughts, arms wrapping around you as he held you close. "Not today. I've got you, hon."

***

Note: I haven't ever had anorexia, but I have had an unhealthy relationship with food and am working to heal that. I hope you guys are all able to heal from what ails you and even if you can't, you are still worthy. Suicidal ideation is unfortunately too common in my brain, though, and I just want you guys to know you're not alone. We've already come so far.

Please don't forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed my work~

Taglist:

@ikranwings @sweetirilly @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[ruanbaijie]

um ok so i have a backlog of tag games (I love them okay I just take very long to get back to them 🥲) so instead of answering them one by one and spamming everyone's dashboards, I'm gonna smash all of them together to create one HUGE tag game

tagged by @thitiponqs [x] [x] and @asterdust [x]

presenting:

nine albums or songs I've been listening to lately x nine people I’d like to get to know better x tag game with no name

1. why did you choose your url? i mean, look at him. what a bitch (affectionate).

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them. nope this place is a dumping ground

3. how long have you been on tumblr? october 2010 *awkward monkey meme*

4. do you have a queue tag? luQiao - which is the most common question i get 🌚

5. why did you start your blog in the first place? my friends were mentioning it (this was during blogging heyday and everyone was on blogspot) and i was like cool what is it let's check it out and uh i've been here ever since

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp? i wanted to something red + black (my favourite colours) to go with the overall ✨ aesthetic ✨ and xia zhiguang just happened to have this ridiculously out of this world badass modern wuxia-esque photoshoot with a red and black theme so

7. why did you choose your header? because hua chenyu is an AMAZING singer and god it's on my bucket list to attend his concert live

8. what’s your post with the most notes? this rainbow edit for jjk [x]

9. how many mutuals do you have? um so i keep an excel sheet that lists all my mutuals including main blogs (if the mutual blog is a side blog), names, what i tag their posts by, and tracked tags. said list is currently at *checks list* 288 🌚

10. how many followers do you have? 5.4k+

11. how many people do you follow? 455 but i think a lot are inactive 😭

12. have you ever made a shitpost? oh yes this is one example which i did for shl [x] and which got reposted on instagram (ugh) and i made them take it down yes i still remember it

13. how often do you use tumblr each day? too much

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? yeah a whole episode that involved death threats instant report and block

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts people don't have to reblog every single thing but at the same time this is tumblr the reblog place don't just like things all the time without reblogging yknow

16. do you like tag games? YES i can be very long-winded i love them a lot

17. do you like ask games? yes but i get worried that people don't send in anything at all and i'm just talking to myself so i don't do them

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? definitely you @thitiponqs 💕

19. do you have a crush on a mutual? eh no i don't crush on people easily? and i probably need to meet that person in real life before any crushing happens

20. what is the last song you listened to? currently having blaze of clear sky (the insert song of episode 19 of the apothecary diaries) on repeat for DAYS now it's so good and it makes me want to cry

21. what are you currently watching? the apothecary diaries, yatagarasu, dededede, the king's avatar donghua season 3, isekai shikkaku, meet you at the blossom

22. sweet/ savoury/ spicy? SWEET

23. what is your current relationship status? single (anyone wanna date lol)

24. what is your current obsession? THE APOTHECARY DIARIES i'm so sorry i'm so late to this game but also STILL NOT OVER the spirealm it still causes me a lot of pain and rips my heart out and stuffs glass shards down my throat on a daily basis

25. what are nine albums/ songs you've been listening to lately?

齐天（华晨宇）- equal to heaven (hua chenyu)

双节棍（华晨宇）- nunchucks (hua chenyu)

斗牛（华晨宇）- bull fighting (hua chenyu)

麒麟（早安）- qilin (zaoan)

星星（早安）- stars (zaoan)

乡下来的（玖壹壹）- from the countryside (nine one one)

abyss (yungblud)

gento (sb19)

blaze of clear sky (takenaka daichi)

26. tagging (no pressure!) @alienwlw @lianhuajing @guzhufuren @miwtual @kolomo

@xiaobaosnoona @naughtynanzhu @mokacheer @alicenthighstower

[kalixora]

It is what it is

Part 3

Alexia! Play Low by SZA

@tapioca-marzipanpan @do-leannan @yooforia @fruitymoonbeams-blog @xheera @angelsquid @makastaco @random0lover@lovecats12345

Summary: You weren't seen as a high-ranking solider, and you were stuck in a position you didn't want, directly by General Shepard's side. You get a call one day about a new opportunity that will help you.

. Reader is presumed female

Note: I've never played any of the games, so please excuse any inaccuracies. Due to the use of Google Translate, any languages displayed may potentially be incorrect.

There will be explicit sexual content, as well as instances of harassment, cursing, and drug usage.

Callsign: Hound

You sighed as you closed the door to your room. Once more, it was only you and no one else. Your childhood memories ran through your mind with each blink as you walked over to your bed and laid down. 

Every memory, every voice, every touch, every emotion, He was there. He was never far away. Fuck. Participating on this task force very likely did not completely expel you from him.

Knock knock 

You groaned and jerked your eyes wide. A somewhat apprehensive Soap was waiting for you at the other end of your hasty opening.

He briefly diverted his eyes from yours before flashing you a timid smile. "Uh- Captain wants us in his office in 30."

“Okay.” 

"Are you alright?  I didn't in any way hurt you, did I?"  Soap inquired as he examined your face.

You shook your head. "Nothing wrong, Soap; thanks for checking on me." You started to close your door, but Soap sighed and placed his palm on the back of his neck.

“Hey listen Hound…” 

“Yes?” 

"If you ever want to talk lass, I'm willing to lend ya an ear, I doesn't really take a genesis to something's bothering ya," Soap said.

"Nothing's bothering me Soap-"

"Johnny, you can call me Johnny, John MacTavish."

"Oh... Y/N, I'm Y/N."

"Y/N, that's a nice name, your parents picked a beautiful name for a beautiful lass," Soap smiled at you.

You nodded at him, "Thank you... I'm gonna get ready now."

Soap nods, "Oh right, sure, I'll see ya later then."

You rested your head against the door as you shut the door and then closed your eyes once more. Your eyes began to burn with a hot torrent of tears that were begging to be let out. It's not like Soap knew; he was just complimenting you, and in all honesty, nobody else knew either. They are unfamiliar with you. Expect Price and Gaz. You had to keep it silent. They have only known you for a short while, especially Soap, whom you hardly even know. They can already tell something is wrong with you. You had to keep it on the low. Ensure that nobody knows. Your siblings or perhaps even a pet could be lost with just one mistake?

. . . . . .

Price greeted you as you stepped into his office, you stood next to Ghost as Price began to map out a mission to you all. From what you've gathered, it was a rescue and intel mission, which meant you had to go undercover to obtain information on a captive. You scanned the map Price had drawn out, pointing to the area you'd all be flying to. There was a safe house nearby where you would all go to prepare for the mission.

After you were all departed, you couldn't help but have the uneasy feeling that Price was closely observing you; it's probable that the others were also aware of it. Maybe it was because you were new to the team?

You started packing a few things and tossed them to the side as you mentally prepared to leave at nightfall.

Night fall came on the the plane you went, so how you got stuck sitting next to the captain of the team himself with Soap sitting right across from you. He glanced at you from time to time but never really said anything but give you a small smile.

"Don't mind him," Price whispered to you. "Mate's got a staring problem."

"You don't say," you snickered. "Say... Price? Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"What's your life looking like right now? Aside from all this? You have a partner yet?"

Price chuckled, "So this is how you wanna pass the time huh? Alright I'll bite, can't catch a bloody break with this job."

"Why don't you try someone on base?" You laughed, "A good-looking guy such as yourself shouldn't have any trouble finding someone."

"Solider..."

Ah shit

You gulped slightly.

Price was attractive; what was there not to like about him?

He was affable, and from previous operations with him and Gaz, He was a gentleman. He was always cordial to you and treated you as an equal; he never made you feel like you had to be anything other than who you are or that you had to prove something to him. He was sincere with you. All he needed to know was that you were good at what you do. And you were god damn good.

Admiration for him was easy to hide from him; he was an inspiration not only to you, but also to Gaz and those around him. Next to him, you unwind.

Not drifting asleep, but your body felt at relaxed, and it was reassuring to know that Price was here, right next to you. In essence, he was your friend. Someone you can trust with your life...

Maybe you should tell him about Shepard? It wouldn't hurt, right?

"Thanks..."

Price mumbled a little. Knowing you might or might not have flustered him, you smile smugly. "You're very welcome, Captain."

The rest of the trip went without a hitch thanks to Soap's ability to start conversations and share bits and pieces of his life with everyone else, with the exception of Ghost, who you weren't too surprised by. The most of what you learnt about him came from Soap or Gaz.

Once you all landed you all began to head to the safe house on foot to a remote location. Once you got there you let out a groan, the place was small probably had one bathroom too. You dropped your bags and rushed towards the bedrooms, there was two. A master bedroom and another room that most likely was a kids room, it was painted a light blue with two beds on each side of the room. One bed had a brown stuffed animal on it. It even had a little red bowtie with a tag on it.

You felt a presence behind you as you entered the kid like bedroom.

You went towards the bear and picked it up checking the tag.

"Make up date soon ;)"

You whirled around, pushing the bear into whoever's chest you could find and fleeing the room.

"Woah what's wrong lass? You look like you seen a Ghost- ah see what I did there!"

Ghost walked out of the room hie eyes scanned you and Soap as he held the bear on his hand. "You scared of a stuffed bear?"

"No- no, I was about to puke…" you said as you pushed by Soap and into the bathroom. "Jet lag or something- I haven't been on a plane in a long time…"

You were on a plane. Liar.

"Do you need anything?"

"Nah- I'm fine, just give me a sec," you replied, your breath unsteady. You gazed down at your twitching arms, feeling dizzy and feverish. You were on the verge of puking. You went to the toilet and gagged rashly, without a second to spare.

On a mission, you weren't even safe. How did he find out? Kate should have been the only one who knew the location of the safe home; the less people who knew, the better. Unless this was a mission authorized by him, was this a way to keep track of where you were at all times?

Something has to be there-

There was simply no way-

How the hell did find you?

Were they in on it? Someone told him. Was it Soap? He's had his eye on you since you came…

Ghost, someone so elusive, must be full of betrayal...

Gaz would never do anything like that.

Price would not do it either, then who would?

Was that Kate?

No, she unknowingly saved you from Shepard.

Knock Knock

Your hurled once more The room seemed to be getting smaller by the second. It had no qualms about swallowing you completely. Your heart was beating, your body stiffened; you hadn't even been shot yet and you were already feeling like a fool.

Knock Knock

"Hound, I'm coming in alright?"

You coughed, turning your head to look at who walked in.

"Capitan..."

Prince kneeled down next to you placing his hand on your back, "What's wrong love? You broken?

"...No, it’s nothing I'm fine-"

"I know you better than that Hound, let it all out, you need to rest."

You nodded as Price gave you a water bottle, presumably his.

You sat upwards tilting your head so you can drink the water, Price held you head as you did this. You took a few deep breathes with his help and managed to calm down a bit. He helped you into the bedroom.

Price sat you on the bed, you grabbed his arm. what the hell are you doing?

"Lieutenant?"

"Stay- please."

Price stared at you for a moment then nodded, "Are you sure?"

"Yes..."

You can trust him

“Alright… I’m going to get changed, Gaz put your stuff in here already I’ll knock before I come in.”

You nodded as you watched Price grab a bag and head out the door. You were alone… but there were still eyes on you. Hidden ones probably in the walls or in the stars in the sky. This whole situation just isn’t fair. Why you out of all the lieutenants, the moment of fuckery that’s happening is just unpleasant.

You got up from the bed your legs still like jelly, you grabbed your bag thankfully Gaz put in right by the bed. You grabbed some clothes to change into and put them on making sure at least neatly put your uniform back on top of your bag and got into bed.

After a few minutes there was a knock on the door, you said a brief come in and in came the captain himself. He was wearing a white T-shirt and black sweatpants. He gave you a small smile before putting his stuff beside the door then heading to the bed right next to you.

Price let out a sigh then a small chuckle, “I never knew you had plane sickness.”

“It’s been awhile okay.”

“I thought you took a plane coking over to base?” Price asked you turning his head to look at you.

You sink into the bed not looking back up at him, “Felt sick too.”

Price hummed, “You sure about that Hound?”

“Yeah…very sure…”

“Y/N.”

“Yes sir?”

“Your broken.”

You looked up at Price, his eyes scanning yours and never did he drop his gaze.

“I’m not-“

“I know that look Y/N, it may have been a good few years since we’ve spoken but believe me my memory is still as sharp as ever.”

“…goodnight John…”

[merrock]

HAPPY MAY !

It's not longer gonna be may... it is! I always think of May as the sort of 'kick off' to summer. You're maybe not there yet, but you're getting so close that you can almost taste it! Soon we'll have beach parties and be swimming in the public pool, be grilling with our friends, wearing short shorts and tank tops, but for now, let's go over all of the exciting things that are happening in Merrock in May, shall we?

Hop under the cut and read through, please! xx

ON THE CALENDAR !

MAY 5 -- CINCO DE MAYO / join us at Paco's for good food & demonstrations on how to make it!

MAY 10 -- CLEAN YOUR ROOM DAY / clean up those rooms and donate stuff you don't want anymore!

MAY 12 -- MOTHER'S DAY !!!

MAY 17 -- ENDANGERED SPECIES DAY / learn about Maine's endangered species and how to help them!

MAY 19 -- BAKE OFF !!!

MAY 20 -- WORLD BEE DAY / educate yourself on the importance of bees, buy local honey, start a pollinator garden!

MAY 21 -- INTERNATIONAL TEA DAY / head to What's the Tea to pick up your favorites, or try a new blend!

MAY 25 -- NATIONAL WINE DAY / get out with the girlfriends or your significant other and try some wine!

MAY 27 -- MEMORIAL DAY / with school and big businesses closed, have a picnic, or attend the memorial ceremony.

IMPORTANT STUFF !

as usual, brush up on our rules -- we have amended the activity rules to include what we mentioned in the activity check this past week. your two required replies per week must be to two different characters, to avoid bubbling. we will continue to check that you are replying to two different writers every other week.

we'd love to see our OOC utilized a bit more for plotting / threading and group-related things. it's okay to make vent posts / say you're busy/not around! but we don't want people to be discouraged from posting "hey, anyone wanna thread something fun?" or talking about IC/group things just as often.

please, please, please put priority into replying to open starters. we don't want anyone to feel left out or ignored (or not make any starters in the future!) if their starter sits with low notes while people are online and active around them. open starters, even with caps, are a great way to generate connections!

be fair with activity. I know that I say this a lot, but everyone here relies on each other to be able to be active. to you, it might not seem like a big deal, to someone else, it could be the difference between them being able to be active or not! try to work in order when you can, and balance all of your characters. (as a side note, I am always, always willing to help with advice on this!)

take the time today and go over our follow list -- unfollow any and all blogs that are not related to Merrock any longer, and please be sure you are following everyone that is. thank you!

GOALS FOR MAY !

Honestly, we just have one big goal for May, and this goes across the board for everyone: build up that community feeling of the group front and center through involvement, participation & kindness. When we have events in town, please consider getting involved! Jump in on tasks or fun things if you have the time, or even if you don't: we promise, it doesn't hurt to click the heart and show others a little appreciation! It's nice sometimes, to support one another. Put priority into replying to open starters, reach out to plot with those you haven't yet (or if it's been a while). Comment on OOC posts, or as we said above, use the OOC blog to get plots and threads going. It's summer (ish!), let's get our vibes going in the sunny direction.

HAVE A GREAT MAY !

[steppingstonesuniverseguide]

One More Step Out of the Pit: Chapter 7/26

Summary: It had been Tommy and Tubbo for practically forever. They clawed their way out of hell together. They discovered their superpowers together. They started working for the Superhero Guild together before even coming of age. Tommy probably owed Tubbo his life ten times over. So, when the three supervillains he'd been assigned to bring in managed to take Tubbo hostage, well, there was really only one thing to do.

He knew, of course, he was signing himself up for torture and death by offering that trade, but that was okay.

It'd have to be okay.

AO3 Link (See AO3 for Warnings.)

(This story is finished and has been posted on AO3 for a while, but I'm posting it on Tumblr so it's somewhere else too (considering the day AO3 was down a bit ago). The author notes will all be kept as well. If you are following the blog and don't want to see these posts, block the tag #backlog.)

The door to the receiving room slammed shut behind Wilbur to Techno’s shock. What had just happened? Wilbur had seemed way too enthusiastic about having Tommy as a prisoner not 5 minutes ago. Enough so that Phil basically had Techno on babysitting duty. Yet then he’d up and left only on the first step of making sure hostages weren’t dangerous.

Well, Techno guessed he was the one doing this now. He turned back to the other occupant of the room who had been watching Wilbur’s sudden exodus with surprised eyes. He squinted at the newly revealed face. “What are you?” he asked. “12?”

His eyes snapped to Techno and he immediately bristled. “I’m 24,” he claimed with a rather ferocious glare considering the evidence that he’d recently snotted all over his own face still remained.

Now, Techno wasn’t particularly good at decerning ages, both in physical and mental development, but still… “I’m 24.”

Tommy seemed taken aback by this information. “You are?”

Techno folded his arms over his chest. “Yeah.”

“Dude, I thought you were, like, 40. The fuck?”

Techno shrugged. “I’ve heard that before,” he replied mildly.

“But then…” Tommy was frowning, and Techno saw his fingers move at his side as he mouthed some numbers. “That would mean you slaughtered the Carbon Squad at 12.”

Well, actually, he didn’t think he managed to get any of kills on the team of 6 heroes himself, though it was all kind of a blur. Most of the killing had definitely been Will though. He’d been… a bit righteously infuriated. Still, the technicalities didn’t matter. Techno had definitely killed more than that at a younger age on his own power and not. “They shouldn’t have kidnapped my friend,” he replied.

“But 12?” he asked. “Don’t get me wrong. I was also a badass at 12… 10 years ago, but Jesus man.”

Techno hummed noncommittally, mind starting to drift from the conversation to what he was supposed to be doing. He wasn’t usually the one to do this step. It was usually Phil and on occasion Will, but today they’d apparently both abandoned him to social interaction.

“Er, so,” Techno said. “I need to check you for weapons now.”

“Don’t have any.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to take your word on that.”

Tommy frowned at him. The space between his nose and mouth was a bit red, Technoblade noticed, and his lower lip was actually bleeding from where it looked like he’d chomped down on it. “Do you, uh, need a tissue?”

He reached up to touch his own face and grimaced at the mess there. “Uh, yeah, maybe,” he replied.

“I… don’t actually have one.” There was an awkward pause. “But, uh, I can find you something.” He quickly walked to the cabinet where they stored things for hostages to change into and pulled out a shirt. “Here,” he said handing it over. Tommy stared at it for a moment, but then shrugged and started mopping up his face with it. “I guess, er, I’m going to touch you now,” he said. God this was awkward. He tensed at basically every brush of Techno’s hand, flinching a couple of times and hiding his face in the t-shirt tissue. As promised, Techno didn’t find any weapons on him.

“You should probably stop biting your lip like that,” Techno said, noting a bit of fresh blood on his face after finishing.

“I do what I want,” he said.

“…Suit yourself.” He returned to the cabinet and grabbed another white t-shirt as well as a pair of light grey sweatpants. “Here,” he said, holding the outfit out. “Change.”

Tommy’s eyes shot to the fabric. He looked up at Techno, mouth set in a line. “No,” he said.

“No?” Techno asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I agreed to let you take me captive, not to cooperate once I got here,” Tommy said despite the fact that he had pretty much cooperated up until this point and he had absolutely no clear reason to choose this hill to die on. Almost as an afterthought he added, “Bitch.”

“You’re currently in a power neutralizing cuff locked in a room with me in a building you don’t know the location of,” Techno pointed out.

He just squared his jaw and glared haughtily.

“The way I see it, you have two options,” Techno told him, “and I’m being nice by letting you choose.”

“Yeah, and does one involve shanking a bitch,” he snarled with a ferocity that honestly impressed Techno on the inside. On the outside, he blankly stared at him until he saw a bit of the fire die in his eyes, consumed by nervousness.

Techno held up a finger and without comment on the empty threat, spoke. “One: you listen to me and change into this on your own power right now.” Another finger joined the first. “Two: I take you to the ground and put these clothes on you myself like you’re a misbehaving toddler.”

“I’d like to see you fucking try, asshole,” he snapped.

Techno watched him for a moment. “Is that your final answer?” he asked lightly shifting just slightly forward without actually taking a step to close the gap between them.

The threat seemed to actually register then, his eyes going a bit wide as he curled his arms around his middle protectively. Techno waited as he swallowed the pill that was his own helplessness, eyes flickering between fear, pain, and humiliation before hardening again. “Fine,” he bit out. “Hand me the stupid ugly ass clothes.”

Techno offered them and he practically ripped them out of his hands.

“Do I get privacy?” he snapped.

Techno nodded towards a curtain they’d set up for that purpose. “You can use that.”

“Thanks,” the boy said. Techno was pretty sure he added on a “motherfucker” there at the end, but he didn’t comment. He was doing as asked at least, so Techno wasn’t going to complain.

He leaned back against the wall near the door. His posture was casual, but it served the purpose of making sure Tommy wouldn’t find some way to slip out the only exit. He did tend to be very slippery.

Techno could see his feet and the bottom of his calves shifting around as he toed off his shoes. He waited… and waited… and waited until he started to get a bit impatient.

“Will you hurry it up?” he finally said.

The feet went still for a moment before the boy was spitting back at him. “It’s complicated to get off, alright.”

“It’s a supersuit,” Techno drawled. “Not a Victorian Era ball gown.”

“Just fuck off and give me a minute.”

“Fine,” Techno said. “60, 59…”

The boy cursed. “Bastard, you fucking bastard.” He did seem to be hurrying it up based on how his feet kind of pranced around behind the curtain, so Techno kept up his counting.

At 45 he heard fabric rip. “Did you just rip something?”

“I told you it’s hard to get off alone and now I’m on a time crunch apparently!”

“Do you need help?” Techno asked.

“No! Fuck off!”

“Suit yourself.” He either did not notice or did not appreciate the pun.

Techno did not continue counting, but Tommy still scurried out from behind the curtain rather quickly after that. Techno squinted at the person who stepped out into view. Techno had far overestimated the needed size for the t-shirt and sweats. He was tall, yes, but he was also a toothpick and the outfit hung off of him. If Techno had thought he’d looked young when he saw his face, it was nothing compared to how young he looked now while drowning in the white and grey outfit like he was an 8-year-old using his father’s shirt for a nightgown. Now, Techno knew he had to be at least 20 considering he couldn’t have signed up for The Guild until he was an adult, would have needed at least a year of training before being put on the field, and had been on active duty for at least a year, but he certainly didn’t look it.

“What’re you staring at Bitchblade?” he asked, voice cutting like a knife. Techno trailed his eyes up to his face. Somehow the deep bags under his eyes had gotten even deeper in the last few minutes and he looked paler, though maybe that was just due to the white shirt. Despite the sharpness of his words, it was obvious he was exhausted by this point. Now he was just putting on a show.

Techno removed himself for the wall. “C’mon,” he said gruffly, turning to open the door. He saw Tommy shift out of his peripheral, even taking a step closer. “Don’t,” he warned darkly. The figure froze at his tone. Techno reached back and grabbed his shoulder, yanking him forward. He came with a stumble and Techno lightened his touch a bit at the obviously very involuntary whimper that passed his lips, but otherwise chose to respect the kid enough not to mention it.

He guided him to the door that led to the main part of the underground compound and stopped. He pulled a piece of cloth out of his pocket. “I’m going to blindfold you now.”

The boy’s eyes shot to his, startled. “Why?” he asked, just a bit of panic coloring his tone.

“You’re a flight risk,” Techno explained. “If you do manage to escape, we don’t want to give you a head start knowing where you are in the compound.”

He looked at the blindfold and then at Techno. Techno sighed internally. This was going to be a fight, wasn’t it? “No.”

Techno’s grip tightened minutely on his shoulder and he flinched disproportionally hard in reaction. “Yes,” Techno said firmly.

He still did not seem like he was going to acquiesce, glaring at Techno defiantly.

“The other option is a bag over your head.”

Tommy’s hands fisted at his side, but then he looked down with a slight nod. Techno quickly wrapped the strip of fabric around his head and secured it with a knot. Only then did he type in the passcode to let them into the rest of the compound.

The holding cell was a bit of a walk for obvious reasons, and they didn’t really talk the entire way. About 1/3rd of the way there, Techno noticed the kid starting to shake as though cold despite the fact that the hallway didn’t seem particularly cool. What was… probably happening didn’t occur to him until he noticed the boy’s breath hitch just slightly about a minute later.

Oh god. He was crying. He was crying, wasn’t he? Or dying. Techno hoped it was actually that he was dying. He felt far more equipped for handing that. His breathing started to come a touch faster and he was clearly trying to keep it together, which made it worse because that meant it was real and not him trying to garner sympathy.

It felt like eons before they made it to the cell, Techno trying awkwardly to pretend like he didn’t know Tommy was crying under the blindfold. He swiftly typed in the cell password and led him inside the mostly white room.

“You can take the blindfold off,” he said. He pointedly ignored the red eyes that were revealed by him taking it off, in fact, he mostly avoided looking at him altogether. “So, uh,” Techno floundered for what to say. “This is where you’re staying, uh, bed,” he gestured to the bed as though the boy wouldn’t know what one looked like. “Chairs. If you need something there’s a button on the wall here you can press. Someone will usually be in the next room while you’re here, but even if we’re not, we’ll still get an alert. Er… there’s a faucet and paper cups over there. Don’t try to tear it off and use it as a weapon. We know to look for it, and it’ll just make everyone’s life more difficult. Uh, we’ll feed you. That’s… about it.”

Tommy looked around the mostly empty white room with skeptical eyes and then back towards Technoblade. “Where’s the supervillain creepy dungeon?”

“We don’t have one of those.”

His eyes trailed back to the room. “This feels more like a creepy evil doctor’s observation room,” he said studying the obvious two-way mirror on one wall. “When’s the dissection?”

That read like it was meant to be a joke, but Technoblade wasn’t sure how to respond with how he was wrapping his arms around his middle protectively. Tommy didn’t bother waiting for a response anyway, turning from Techno to go deeper into the room.

“Uh,” Techno said. “Button,” he reminded, pointing.

He fled the room then, but didn’t leave him quite yet. Instead, he walked a few feet to the door of the observation room. Tommy was already out of sight by the time he made it to the one-way mirror, but there was a lump still moving slightly under the covers of the bed.

Technoblade took out his phone and opened up his message history with Phil. ‘He looks 10. Wilbur fucked off saying he had a headache. Now he is hiding under the covers in the bed. He is probably crying. Help.’

Techno sent the message and looked at the now mostly still blob on the bed, very much hoping Phil was done with his phone call and would be here soon.

Author Note:

Technoblade: Father hlp. Big brother abandoned me and now there are feelings. Pls, Father.

I'm really excited about the next chapter! :D

...

(Me? Make most of the things in the room and Tommy's clothes white for dramatics? Nah. What would be dramatic spilled on white sheets and white clothes and a white floor...?)

[cocomanga]

To DeServe You. - Ch.01

Pairing: Choso Kamo x Fem!Reader,

CW: JJK AU, Angst, Good Boy Kink, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Oral, BDSM, Unprotected Sex, Edging, Drunk Sex, Aggressive Sex, Overstimulation, Yan(dear)y Choso🖤

Note: please block me if my work is not your cup-o-tea. I do not own any of the character art. Please respect my blog art.

Total WC : 9.6K

To DeServe You. Ch.02

TDY Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Playlist

Synopsis: Reader is working hard, meeting new people in a new town, and runs into someone she never thought she'd see again. After she left an impression on him that he never forgot, he vows to do anything he can to solidify a connection between them that will cause her to stay by his side for good.

So.... OMG y'all... I decided to just let it go. lol I would have edited, and edited, and edited until I made myself an entirely different story😩 I hope you guys enjoy. 😊

..... Minors: You have no business here. Love you, but please don't ....

▶TDY Playlist

Ch.01 - Unexpected

↞ ··· ↠

There he was again. 

That guy, “Mr. Kamo,” in the same spot. 

Curiosity bloomed more inside you every time you walked by and saw him sitting there. He sat alone, as always, nestled at a table in the corner of this fine dining restaurant.

It’s been nearly four months and he never missed an opportunity to show up, the light gleaming onto his face from his laptop as he sat comfortably in what appeared to be gray designer medical scrubs and black Pumas.

He ordered a light meal since it was late evening, just as he did every week: a Hibachi Steak appetizer, a side spinach salad, and a Hennessy XO.

He seemed to be a considerably quiet man: kept to himself, and was always polite and respectful to the staff and other customers. Yet, though the walls of the front half of the restaurant were lined with windows at each table, he made sure to sit at that one, specifically. Your table, every time he arrived.

At this point in the night your body was really starting to hurt. Two doubles, twelve hours each, and it felt like you’d been on your feet, shocking them with pressure from each step on the cement tile every second of each day.

“Girl, your table is ready to leave,” Shoko muttered, rushing past you.

“Okay, thanks! I’m bringing them their check now,” you replied with a quick huff, as you ripped the receipt from the printer at the computer and grabbed one of the puffy checkbooks from the stack next to it.

Finally, I can get out of here.

You whined to yourself as you rushed over with the thin piece of inked paper in your hand, along with the hope of receiving a fat tip.

“Hey! When do we get our dessert?!”Your customer at the last table yelled. They’d ordered it less than two minutes ago.

Two tables left in your section, and you, Shoko and Yuki were the last three on the shift. You turn to your frustrated customer, apologetic since you knew desserts were made-to-order. Like they care.

“I’m so sorry for the wait. It’ll be out in just a moment, sir,” you replied, hoping they’d calm down.

“My dude... relax. She’s working on it.” A kind and familiar voice is offered up as you set the book with the check down on the customer’s table.

You look over to see your regular, the handsome “Mr. Kamo”, addressing the customer in an attempt to correct their rude behavior.

You were surprised to hear him speak that way, since he was usually so quiet and reserved.

“That’s not my problem!” The customer griped.

“It kinda is your problem, though,” Mr. Kamo advised as he sat back in his chair, legs stretched out, feet firmly planted flat on the ground as he spoke with his hands. “You asked for a made-to-order dessert. So yeah, waiting for it to be made is part of the process, right?” He continued. 

You smirked in his direction, appreciative of him sticking up for you.

Shoko then emerges from the kitchen with his plate. You breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks,” you said gratefully as you took the plate from her hand and set it in front of the customer.

“No problem girl. Done and done,” she mumbled under her breath, rolling her eyes toward the table as she handed you a new check without the dessert on it.

“Tough night again, right?” Mr. Kamo muttered, his voice as deep and buttery as always as he tucked his signed credit card slip in his book, handing it over to you. No doubt with another large tip scribbled onto the total in chicken scratches.

“Yeah. You know how it gets around here when there’s a concert downtown. It’s always good to see you though, Mr. Kamo,” you reply, accepting the book from his outstretched hand.

“Just ‘Choso’. I’m sure we’re about the same age right?” He said, smirking as he glanced up at you from his laptop.

You’d never seen a man up close so beautiful and mysterious. His layered, jet-black hair was thick and healthy, hanging past his large eyes in long strands, the sides and back stopping just at his shoulders.

He’s pretty tall, with a perfect athletic build, solid and noticeable even with his baggy clothing. As gorgeous as he was, he had ... a scar... on his face, stretching clear across the bridge of his nose, a scar that oddly intensified his appearance, making him even more of an enigma and, somehow, even more attractive. You glanced down at his bare ring finger, wondering what his story was.

“Here you go,” you turned to slide the dessert guy’s new check to him. “Thank you so much for waiting, sir. Your dessert’s on the house. ““

He huffed as he snatched the checkbook from your hand.

You turned to see Choso glaring at the customer. If looks could kill, the guy would legitimately be dead.

Hot and protective sure is a hell of a combo. You lock eyes with Choso, flashing him a warm smile with a blush, mouthing a ‘thank you’ for helping make your night at least a little better.

A smile curled up into the corner of his full lips as he asked, “Got big plans after work?

“Uh... Well, I can’t say yet,” you reply with a sigh, “since my girls usually have what we’re doing in mind already by the time I finish my shifts.”

You shoot a quick glance up at him from the money you’re counting after you’ve pried it from the pocket of your apron, and notice he’s watching you intently with his hands interlocked in front of his mouth.

His intense gaze often puzzled you. Possibly making you a bit ... uneasy? Though, you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. He was a stunning man. And seemingly as sweet as they come, but there was something so familiar about him... A familiarity that seemed to cause a shyness to creep up into your belly in the form of butterflies.

You began folding the cash, stuffing it back into your pockets as you glanced toward him again, “My back and feet are really killing me so I may just ... go home.” You sighed as you sat down at his table, crossing your foot over your knee.

It was common for him to sit there for a bit after most of the customers had gone home. You’d make small talk with him, mostly about random nonsense, and he’d close down the place with the last stragglers, the regulars that received free drinks here and there.

As a result, you, and a few of the employees got to know him a little, though he rarely, if ever, offered much personal info about himself. Most of the time, your collective questions were met with just “yes” or “no” answers.

“You should do some stretches before you go to bed tonight,” he advised as his eyes traveled up and down your presence.

You frowned as you squeezed your foot through your non-slip shoe. “You think so? I try to do them in the mornings.” You muttered through gritted teeth as you pressed on a particularly painful area.

“That’s good too, but considering how hard you work here, and the pain you mentioned, stretching before bed will help with blood flow and relax your muscles. Might also help you get some better sleep,” he continued, observing your tired, glazed over eyes.

“Oh, okay,” you frowned, cocking your head to the side. “I hadn’t considered that, especially since I’m usually so exhausted by the time I go to bed. At that point, all I can think about is sleep...Thanks. I’ll try it tonight,” you said, as your smile spreads a little wider across your face.

If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought you’d seen him blush a bit as he averted his eyes back down toward his computer.

“So... I’ve been kinda curious about you,” you prompted, “What do you do, Choso? I see you come here in scrubs most of the time,” you inquire, genuinely interested.

“They’re actually Masseuse tunics,” he replied, glancing down at his clothes, then back up at you, resting his cheek in his hand.

Your eyes brightened at the information you’d gained, “Really? Are you a Massage Therapist?”

“Hey!” Shoko interrupted, yelling across the empty restaurant toward your table. “Are you gonna get clocked out or are you staying here to lock up?”

She turned her attention to Choso, “Mr. Kamo, we’re trying to get outta here!” She whined.

He chuckled, looking over to you. “Guess we both better go huh?”

“Yeah,” you turned back toward him with an apologetic smile as you raised your index finger to Shoko, gesturing to her to give you a minute.

Choso closed his laptop and grabbed his things from under the table. “You guys working tomorrow?” He asked, standing tall as he whipped his bag over his shoulder.

“Actually, no. Thank God,” you rolled your eyes, “I can’t imagine being here again tomorrow. I’m off from both of my jobs for the next couple days.”

“Both jobs? You have another one?” He quizzed, surprised.

“Yuuup. Well, most of us here are working toward other things. Shoko’s in medical school, Yuki’s training to be a mechanic, and I’m a social worker at a non-profit nearby.”

“Wow. That’s... amazing. And a lot,” he says with his eyebrows raised.

“Well, this place is a damn good side hustle,” you chuckled as you stood with him.

“Seems like it,” he uttered, appearing intrigued by your words as he smiled, his gaze softening. 

His anxious eyes traveled over to where Shoko stood, quickly averted to the floor, then back up to meet yours. “So... I'm uh... I'm having people over tomorrow night. You think maybe you'd wanna come by?” he offers.

Your head snapped up to face him as a wrinkle formed between your eyebrows and your lips flattened into a hard line. You slowed your pace to nearly a halt, as you walked him toward the front.  “That's different... you've never invited any of us out...”

“Yeah, I know...” he muttered shyly. “But since I've been coming here, I noticed you seem to be a pretty chill group of girls. Believe it or not, I've been wanting to for a while.”

“Really?” You asked, curious what kind of gathering he had in mind.

“Yeah. You, Shoko and Yuki,” he shrugged, “it'll be just a handful of friends. Nothing crazy. A few people, a few drinks.”

You take but a moment to deliberate. You figured you'd seen him and chatted with him more than enough times to accept his invitation, and the idea of being that much closer to him seemed to flare a spark inside you.

“Sure.” you shrugged. “Why not? I'm in. I'll ask the girls if they wanna come.”

He nods, a shy smile gracing his face, “Cool. Why don't you plug your info in my phone? We'll keep in touch.”

You paused for a moment, taken aback by the idea of exchanging info with him suddenly as he passed his unlocked phone over to you. You always wanted to, but it never dawned on you that he'd actually initiate it so casually.

“Um... Okay...” You take his phone gently and add your info, handing it back as your eyes travel up toward his face, his hooded gaze and vacant expression locked on to you as you place the device back into his hand.

Your big eyes glanced up at him and back down to the phone in intervals as your lips disappeared into your mouth and blood flooded your cheeks.

His eyes seemed to survey every one of your features before he finally spoke. “See you later then?” He asks with a subtle smirk as he moves toward the door, pressing in the golden handle to leave as he waved back toward Shoko's agitated glare.

You walked over to her with a wry smile on your face as you approached.

“What were you guys over there talking about for so long?” She asks as you follow her out the back door for her end-of-shift smoke.

“He was inviting us out tomorrow night.”

“Really?” Her face mimicked the same confusion yours did. “Out where?”

“His place, apparently,” you shrugged, shaking your head, “said he's having people over and wants us to come by.”

“Wow. Sounds cool. Seems like a great guy, too,” she lights up and takes a puff as she finds her stool she kept outside to sit on. “'Cept I think he's just trying to get you over there.”

“Huh?” You uttered, “What makes you think it's just me?”

“What do you mean?” She huffed, “He's been sitting in your section every week, consistently, for the past few months. You're telling me you haven't noticed he's into you?” She asks, as she takes another drag of her already half gone Newport.

“Oh come on. I mean, for all I know he just likes the window seat,” you shrugged. “It'd be kinda arrogant for me to assume he's just there for me.”

“Tch... How much did he tip you?” She asked, with her eyebrows raised.

“Oh, damn I didn't even see. You called me over before I could look at his check,” you dug inside your apron and grabbed the last black book you had inside and opened it.

Your lips parted slightly mimicking a jaw drop when you saw the number. “Shoko...” you said, as you looked over at her, wide-eyed.

She glanced over your shoulder at the check. “Are you kidding me?!” Shoko chuckled, nearly choking on her cigarette as she saw his tip was two-hundred dollars, on top of the mere eighty-five bucks he'd spent on food.

“What the hell?” You said, frowning as you slapped the book shut.

Shoko giggled, “That's damn near five-hundred dollars he's spent on you this month, just coming to eat at your restaurant,” she murmured.

“He tipped you too, when he first started coming here!” You whined, a poor excuse to justify your position.

“Girl, please,” he gave me like forty bucks that night, and it was only because you weren't here!” She retorted, laughing. “Meanwhile, he's made you a regular monthly expense.”

You sat there in shock, realizing she's probably right, but not understanding what the hell he's doing. “Who does this? And … If that's the case, why hasn't he just asked me out? It's been nearly four months.”

“He just did, right?”

“Yeah, but after that long? I don't get it,” you said, completely perplexed.

“Look, let's just show up tomorrow night and see how it goes. Maybe you'll get some answers then,” she opened the back door, staring with raised brows, holding it open for you.

“Just exactly how long did you plan to have me waiting in here?” Yuki asked as she saw the two of you coming back in from the rear patio.

“My bad, Yuki. You know, you could've just come outside with us.” Shoko grumbled.

“And end up smelling like cigarettes? No thanks,” she retorted. “Can we please get out of here, I don't like hanging out where I get paid.”

Shoko huffed, “Oh my god, woman, alright. Let's get home.”

↞ ··· ↠

“Are you sure this is the place?” You asked Shoko as she drove down the dark road full of trees.

“That’s what’s in the GPS...” she said, frowning. “Unless he gave you shit for directions.” She let her window down a bit as she lit another cigarette.

“It’s awfully dark back here,” Yuki complained, with a turned-up nose, barely making out the trees whooshing past the window though the pitch black.

“Yeah it is...” Shoko squints through her smoke and the faint glow the headlights provided, regardless of the brights.

“Looks like we’re finally close at least,” Yuki interjected, peering at what was a glimpse of a few lights in a house at the end of the road as she rolled her window completely down. “Shoko, God. I really don’t wanna smell like cigarettes when we get there.”

“Oh, be quiet, you’ll live,” Shoko retorted.

“Oh ... my god,” you replied, picking up on what Yuki saw, the building finally coming into view. “Looks like we’re ... here?”

Shoko was seemingly just as shocked as you. ”Whoa,” She muttered.

As the headlights of the car illuminate the property, you pull up to a beautiful, eclectic, mini-mansion nestled away in the middle of this thick forest. The wheels of the car rumble softly as you roll up onto the smooth bound resin driveway of a three car garage.

“What does he do again?” Yuki asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. “You said he was a massage therapist?”

“Well, we were getting to that part but...” you started, as you shook your head, your eyes darting every direction, taking in the beautiful surroundings.

Shoko shifted the car into park, then turned it off. You all paused, gawking at each other, ears perked as you made out distant sounds.

“Hmm, I hear music... let’s go in. I’m a hell of a lot more curious now.” Shoko grins as she makes her way out of the car.

You all exited the vehicle, then walked slowly up the stairs to the front door as the tall glass windows displayed a perfect view inside the house.

An adorable young guy with pink hair flung the door open, wafting the cool air around as it seemed to pull you in. “Hey, what’s up? You guys friends of Cho’s?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Shoko says as she introduces all of you.

“I’m Itadori, Cho’s younger brother. Come on in,” he said with a bright smile as he stepped aside to let you through the door.

One of the first things you notice is the scent. It was a fresh, yet herbal aroma with a hint of dark musk. Strong enough to be obvious, but not overwhelming; lightly overpowered by the smell of the food.

You step into a huge room, onto the beautifully finished hardwood floors of a space so vast and open, you could see straight back into the kitchen, and beyond to more large windows connected to a door leading to the back of the house. 

The second floor was also visible from there, and as your eyes traveled upward, you notice a huge, wooden, intricately carved chandelier fixture mimicking tree branches, hanging from the ceiling, it’s lights brightening the entire space.

There were plants everywhere. Hanging plants, potted ones on the surfaces and a few large houseplants strategically placed about, a couple of them mini trees, stretching up nearly ten feet. There were even dried herbs hanging in the open kitchen.

The place was lit dimly but sufficiently, as the bulbs from the chandelier reflected beautifully off the windows. The entrance opened to the living room. A staircase along the exposed brick wall to the right of the door lead up to the next floor, the wall adorned with a few abstract paintings.

The kitchen, where Choso stood talking to two handsome guys, was full of modern stainless steel appliances, and every area was spotless. The taller guy was making drinks with a huge smile on his face.

The atmosphere was breathtaking. Warm, and inviting. You’d only just arrived and already didn’t want to leave.

“That’s Todo and Ino in the kitchen with Cho,” Itadori said as he locked up the front door behind you. “Make yourselves at home.” he walked over toward the quartz top island bar in the kitchen where the boys stood.

“Holy sh-...” Shoko mouthed to you, amazement plastered on her face as she looked around. “Let’s see how these drinks taste,” she says, smiling widely.

The three of you wander over to join them. You’d never seen Choso this way before. He looked so happy and relaxed in his element.

“He seems a little different here, right?” Yuki whispered to you.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Hey girls. Thanks for coming,” Choso’s face seemed to light up as he popped what appeared to be a piece of dark chocolate into his mouth.

That smile, though small, formed a tiny dimple between his cheek and his mouth. You didn’t see that often, if ever, considering his usually quite stoic expression. But you sure as hell wouldn’t mind seeing more of it.

“Thanks for the invite,” Yuki said cheerfully. “This place is gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” Choso replied. “Did you find it okay?”

“We did, though we were a little worried when we realized it was back here in the trees,” Shoko jokes.

He chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, sorry about that. It can be a little confusing. Especially in the dark.” He looked over to you, his eyes slightly hooded, piercing. His smirk still playing at his lips as he leaned against the counter. “You want a drink?”

“Sure,” you answered, trying hard not to keep gazing curiously at him as if you’d never seen him before. He somehow felt even more familiar now that you were in his space. You really did feel almost at home.

His eyes softened even more, blinking once sleepily as he spoke. “What do you drink?”

Gah... that face would surely be the death of you.

“Uh... I guess it depends. I should probably take it easy though, since I didn’t really eat much for dinner.”

“Hmm...” he said, contemplating as he finished his chocolate. “Ok... one Bloody Mary, coming right up. I’ll even add a celery stalk.” He said, his eyes almost refusing to tear away from you as he turned to make it.

You pressed your smile in, flattening your lips into a thin line. Fine and clever. “That’s actually perfect. Thank you”.

“Of course. I hope you can relax while you’re here.” His demeanor emitted a quiet confidence, but was contradicted by the slightest bit of timidity, making him all the more beautiful.

You tried focusing your attention toward your friends, yet Shoko and Yuki had already become preoccupied with talking to the other guys. It was becoming a little more obvious that Shoko was right.

You watched as he meticulously crafted your drink in a metal shaker first, then poured it into a small mason jar with a handle, adding a salt mix to the rim, then dropping in a celery stalk and ... a skewer... with food on it?

You frowned in confusion, having never seen anyone make a bloody mary look so ... delicious. He added chicken breast cubes, black olives, and cheese from the snack plates he had out. It was crazy.

“Wow. How did you learn to do that?” You asked, fascinated by his ease.

“My mom,” he responded with a small sigh, “she’s brilliant in the kitchen.” He’s quiet for a beat, then asks, “Come outside with me?” as he nodded toward the back door.

He grabs both glasses and walks toward the door behind the kitchen, which led out to his enormous fenced backyard, the entire area surrounded by even more lush green land.

On your way out, you eyeballed the girls so they’d have an idea of where you were headed. “So... I’m more curious than ever now, Choso. What is it that you do again?”

“Yeah, we didn’t exactly get to finish that conversation, did we?” He blushed as he looked down at the drinks in his hand, passing one to you.

You shook your head, taking a sip. Your eyes brightened, brows furrowing as the flavor hit your tastebuds. “Wow, that’s good. Even a little spicy. Yum...!” You giggled, sipping more.

“Thanks. I’m glad you like it,” he said with a grin, obviously pleased with his handiwork.

He sits down on one of the chairs in front of a crackling fire pit. You sit at an angle next to him on another chair. He took a sip of his drink, minus the food.

“So... I actually have a doctorate in Hematology and own a Massage Clinic.”

Your eyes grew wide as you sipped. “What?” Surprise and genuine interest gracing your voice. “Wow... Y-You own one?” One of your eyebrows shot up. “Well, that explains the sound advice you gave me before,” you huffed, smiling brightly.

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “I worked pretty hard in college. Nothing mattered to me more than getting out on my own to make enough to take care of my mother.”

“Your mother?” You echoed, curiosity growing behind your eyes and voice. “Where is she now?”

“Well, she and my father separated when I was in college. Things were... difficult. But she’s doing well now. I actually got this place relatively cheap off of her. It belonged to both my parents. She moved back home and didn’t want to sell it outside of the family,” he explains to you.

You nod slowly as he elaborates and you hum, “I’m glad she’s well now. This house...it’s immaculate. Looks like they put a lot of work into it. But so did you, right? Now that I know what you do, it definitely suits you.”

He looked up at you with a warm smile, “Thanks. It’s pretty convenient for work. A lot of the herbs I use for tinctures and aromatherapy are here on this land. I even work from here when offering services to some of my VIP’s.”

You raise your brows, intrigued, “VIP’s, huh?” It was proving to be exciting getting to know him. Turns out he was far more interesting than you thought, but you wanted to know more.

“Yeah, some of my clients I went to school with, and some I met at events. Business just grew from word of mouth. I can’t say I’m good at networking.” He looked up at you after a pause. “But...I’m actually curious about you, too. How did you end up getting into social work?”

“Well, after I finally chose a major at college, I studied for the degree, then received an opportunity here in this city to work at a great place.” Another smile spread across your face as you looked out into the dark green of his vast backyard. You took a deep breath and continued, “It’s good money for the time I’m there, but I’m not as often as I’d like to be. I do love it, though.”

“So, at your part time job you help people, and at your full-time job you serve people?” Choso asked, his lips turning up in one corner.

You glanced down into your glass with a huff, “Yeah. I guess I do.”

“Who’s serving you?” He asked, his eyes burrowing into yours as he peers up at you from his position in his chair, one eyebrow raised.

You return a shy glance in his direction, your brow furrowing a bit, eyes fluttering as you search your brain for what felt like an answer to a trick question.

“I uh... I dunno,” you sighed, and silence falls between you. “I suppose I could ask you the same thing, ’Doctor’.”

“Touché,” he murmured, letting out a small chuckle.

You laugh softly at his reply. “But... there’s something else that I don’t understand. I mean, you’ve been visiting us nearly four months now, and never invited us out. Why tonight?” You squinted, “And ... What’s with the crazy tips?”

He smiled, looking down at his drink, his feet planted flat on the ground, resting his elbows at his knees. He took a deep breath and looked up at you as if you already had the answer.

Your head cocked to the side, curiosity obvious on your face, not to mention, your apparently very strong drink was starting to kick in.

“What’s a guy like you doing coming to a restaurant on a weekly basis, just to drop large bills on a woman you just met?” You press further.

He continued to hold his head down toward his drink as you spoke, swirling it around in his hand. His eyes flick up suddenly towards you. “Tch... You’re just as fiery and tenacious as always.”

“Always?” You echo; the buzz in your head created by that delicious drink traveling quickly through your system, the smell of it, even the fragrant greenery outside complimented it.

The more you relaxed in that atmosphere, the more you noticed about him, his features grew more attractive to you by the second.

Aside from the effects of the alcohol, a warm feeling washed over you. It was as if his meticulously curated environment had created a sense of relaxation that enveloped you. Clearly, he’s good at his job.

“Yeah,” he says, eyebrows raised, nodding. “Do you recall your last year of college?”

“Mmm...” you hummed, taking another sip. “Yeah. Well, most of it. I dealt with a complicated situation back then.”

“What kind of situation? If I could ask,” he requests gently.

You let out a soft sigh, strangely not finding it hard to open up at this moment, “I ended up in a coma for three months of it,” your brows formed a hard line in the center, “I really don’t even recall the reason. I just know I ... woke up in the hospital after having been out of it for that long.”

Choso frowned as he turned his gaze toward to you. “I’m sorry something like that happened to you,” he said as he looked out into the lush yard in the back of his house. “How badly were you hurt?”

“Well ... I had a concussion, a broken leg, and a fracture in my ribcage,” you tell him. As you took a breath, the aroma of burning wood blended in with the fragrance of herbs and the taste of fresh tomato, basil, and ... something else on your tongue. “According to my mother, I had been... attacked... by some of my classmates.”

“Attacked,” Choso uttered, still peering out into the yard, the word reverberating much more like an echo as opposed to a question.

“That’s ... awful,” he frowned, “You’re okay now though, right?” He asked, his gaze now raking over you as if searching your body for wounds.

“So far so good... I have a few scars though, of course,” you huffed.

He paused, slowly nodding. “Did uh... did you have a lot of friends back then?” his voice, lower and softer than before.

“I’d say I had a few. One in particular that I was really close to: Utahime. She’s still living in my hometown. I did have one other ... acquaintance ... of sorts. But... before we could get close, we kind of separated.”

“What do you mean ‘separated’?” He asks. You’re too buzzed to notice how seemingly interested he is in this topic with the endless questions.

“Well, he was a shy guy. Super smart and a bit of a mess. Wore glasses... He took a class with me, Psychology, but was one grade below me. I tried talking to him from time to time when I’d see him around since he was alone so often. I even tried helping him once. But it didn’t go well.”

“What happened?” He inquires almost immediately.

“Uh...” you frowned, sighing, lips scrunched up in one corner. “It’s kind of a blur...” you said, squinting as you shook your head. “I can’t even remember his name at this point. I don’t remember much at all about him except that I felt so...” you looked over at Choso, “comfortable with him.”

Your eyes darted back out into the yard, your expression softening as you spoke, thinking about this old friend of yours as you sigh softly. “He was brilliant, too. And quiet. I remember admiring how well he grasped the material.”

You stirred the remainder of your drink with your bamboo straw, continuing on, your frown deepening as you remembered the not so pretty parts of college...

 ”Some guys with a fraternity...ugh, they were such jerks... ridiculed him all the time. Masked it as joking around,” you scoffed quietly, shaking your head, “They kept taking his glasses, mocking him... It was so childish. I remember they broke a pair. It pissed me off ‘cause he never bothered anyone. I reported them but it was brushed off.”

Choso’s eyebrows jumped as he rolled his eyes. “Yeah... it was kind of a mess there,” he grumbled.

Your eyes flicked in his direction as he sat on the chair, “Did I tell you what school I attended?” You asked, now swaying a bit as you peered at him. Maybe you mentioned it in passing, but you didn’t recall doing so.

The crackling of the fire rang louder than his voice in your ears. He prompted you to continue. “But ... What happened to him after that?” He asked, taking another sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving your face.

You cocked your head to the side, “I don’t remember,” you said, as you ripped your gaze away, turning it toward the floor, in hopes that the blank canvas would help refocus your mind and maybe trigger a memory.

It’s silent for a beat, as your gaze trails over the floor, then back up to the vast forest ahead. He does the same, both of you just basking in the silence of the surrounding nature. Fragrances and flavors seemed to come to life in you senses, a tinge of particular floral and musky aromas surfacing in your palate.

You sit with your last sentence for a moment, thinking about how people come and go in life, the alcohol really making you dwell on it, and you bring your gaze to him.

As you begin to speak, he looks back to you curiously, “Isn’t it both beautiful and heartbreaking how people can come and go in your life? How they exit after they have fulfilled their purpose? Kind of like... hah, like a theater stage being life. And they exit the stage once they have finished their role, and you don’t see them until the credits - the credits being when you die, but even then, you probably won’t acknowledge them if the font is tiiiiiny,” you squish your thumb and index finger together with a little giggle, but Choso doesn’t share your humor in the matter.

He looks hurt. Pained, even.

“I’m sorry,” Choso says quietly.

“What?” You said, squinting in his direction. “That was so long ago. It’s really nothing to be concerned about now. Thank you, though.”

Choso put his glass down and stood, walking over to you, stopping a foot in front of you. “No, I mean, I’m sorry,” he said firmly, staring into your eyes with an intensity you hadn’t seen before.

“I um ...” you looked up, gazing at his concerned face. “It’s okay. Seriously. It’s ... not that big a deal anymore...” you breathed, wondering why or how this conversation suddenly became so much heavier.

“I’m sorry I did nothing,” Choso grimaced a bit as he spoke, cringing at his own admission. “I was a coward,” he held his head down in shame, as if in confession, as if spilling secrets that had been hidden, concealed in dark places within his heart.

“What?” You whispered again, gawking at his face - that pretty face - and your head tilted slightly, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You were so good to me,” he says, his eyes moving to meet yours. “Those assholes... they called me ‘So-So’. Tch. After everything, I really worried about you when you didn’t come back to school.”

You peered at him through your lashes for what felt like far too long. He holds your gaze, and you can see fear, hope, and regret swirling in those dark eyes of his. 

What does he mean? He sees your internal battle, and he breaks the eye contact, casually looking down to his shirt where there were a pair of glasses sat snugly over the first fastened button. 

You blink, slowly, the expression on your face morphing into one of shock.” Oh my god,” you gasped, unable to believe what... who you’re seeing.

Choso remained frozen in front of you, a slight hunch in his back, his eyes surveying your features which finally appeared... scared? Or just confused.

At that moment, it was impossible to know what to say. You found it very strange that you hadn’t registered the fact that a pair of glasses had been present there the entire time, though you acknowledged that your attention was drawn mostly toward his face since you’d arrived. Had he ever worn those to the restaurant?

It was as if you’d been under a light form of hypnosis, a daze of sorts that you’d somehow found comfort in. Though somewhere deep inside you, you were relieved the familiarity you felt toward him could now be traced back to a source.

“It’s been a really long time. I know,” he spoke softly as he hovered, no, towered over you. “I’m really sorry... for what happened.”

You were stunned, yet tipsy as you stood there, letting the revelation stew inside you of just exactly who had been sitting so close to you, having conversations with you, practically just paying you for the past few months.

Your breaths passed through your lungs much faster now as your eyes widened, taking in each part of his face, his body, his appearance, not knowing whether to be pissed, or to ask him how he’s been and be happy you could see him again.

The fact that your perception of him had completely shifted, that he’s now an entirely different person, someone you vaguely knew, weighing a thousand pounds on your chest as you took in this, “glowed-up” version of him.

“You asked me a question earlier,” Choso says, “That’s um...” his lips flattened into a thin line, “one ... of the reasons I’d been going to the restaurant. I came to see you every week because... I wanted to repay you.”

“Repay me?” You stood, staring, completely taken aback. “For what?”

“I feel... responsible,” he said as he straightened up. “Responsible for what you went through...for what happened.”

“How are you responsible?” You ask, heart hammering in your chest.

“It’s my fault. If you hadn’t been friends with me...” he shook his head. “I just have to make it right.”

“Friends with you?” Your face contorted in confusion. “You think that somehow caused a problem?”

Choso kept his head down, the look on his face a mix of sadness and frustration.

“Choso, I don’t even remember what actually happened. There were witnesses, but... It could’ve been a complete misunderstanding. Or even a total accident. To be honest, it’s a lot to rehash. Based on what I do know, I don’t understand your ... perception.”

The tipsiness in your body had numbed the feeling of revisiting this topic somewhat, and it hits you all of a sudden. You looked around, beginning to feel slightly dizzy, but very confused, not realizing you’d allowed a couple of tears to fall from your face.

“I um... I have to go,” you finally manage to get out.

You looked around for somewhere to put your glass down as you stood, shocked it wasn’t already shattered on the ground.

Choso stepped toward you, “Please–”

“No, it’s okay,” you interrupted, your hand raised as a silent request for him to keep his distance. “I just... I need to leave,” you tell him, shuddering as you exhale.

Your eyes darted back and forth as you attempted to gather your thoughts, remembering that Shoko and Yuki were inside. You turn to grab the handle of the door and push it open, walking straight past the four souls in the living room who now had terribly worried looks on their faces once they processed the look on yours.

“Shoko... um... will you...” you swallow thickly, “will you please take me home?” Your voice quivered as you worked to keep your flushed, teary expression to yourself.

Shoko panics a little, confused as you cross the room to the front door where she follows you, “Of course.”

Both her and Yuki’s attention turn to Choso, his expression pained as he stands at a ‘safe’ distance from you, yet making sure you get out okay.

“Is everything alright?” Yuki asks, obviously worried.

“Fine,” you nodded, “Totally fine. I just need to go,” you said, forcing a smile as you headed toward the door, both of your friends in tow.

Choso nods gently at her and Yuki, averting his eyes downward, then toward his friends. He walks over to the front door and locks it as he watches you get into the car and disappear back through the woods heading home.

↞ ··· ↠

You had actually lost sleep last night. Your brain was riddled with thoughts that kept churning repeatedly in what felt like an endless loop.

You never imagined running into anyone from your past, and of all people, him. Especially after having moved to an entirely different city. You had all but forgotten the heartache that came with that experience and now...

It happened a long time ago. Nearly ten years. But the PTS attached to it took years to shake, especially since there really wasn’t much closure, only questions and confusion.

No one had ever bothered to apologize for what happened, and up till now, the only ones who acknowledged it were your parents and the police who had investigated based on eyewitness testimonies and hunches.

Not to mention your hospital bills and time lost, having to retake missed classes, and the embarrassment of having gone through something so horrible. And since you transferred schools immediately after that, you never imagined anyone from there would be back within your proximity, and such close proximity, at that.

How did he even know where I was? I’ve been here over a year.

You couldn’t make sense of why this was happening. As you completed your morning rituals, your phone rang. A call from Yuki.

As you answered, you noticed a single text message from Choso.

Choso: ”Please forgive me.”

Your heart thumped once, heavily in your chest. I can’t believe this.

You answered the call from Yuki. “Hey.” 

You had briefly yet vaguely explained things to the girls in the car on your way home last night.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?”

“You know, I really don’t know?” you huffed, staring at the message he sent. “He texted me this morning. This feels so strange. I thought that whole experience was far behind me.”

“What did he say?” She asked.

“‘Please forgive me’. That’s all.”

“What is he asking you to forgive him for?”

You let out a heavy sigh as you processed that. “I really don’t understand it myself. And to be honest I’m not sure I wanna know.”

“Why?”

“Well, I don’t recall why things happened the way they did. After what it took for me to get past the stress of it, I can’t say I have the desire to dig it all back up again. I don’t get why after all this time he’d show up here.”

“Is your gut telling you something’s wrong?”

You took a moment to consider it, “Actually, no. I don’t remember ever having a single negative feeling around him during school.”

“Well, he’s been pouring money into you for a while now, do you think he has an ulterior motive or something?” She inquires.

“I truly have no idea,” you sigh.

“Maybe just talk to him a bit more? Find out what he wants. That’ll give you some more answers at least. Then you can decide whether to cut ties if necessary.”

“Yeah. I guess that makes sense. I mean, it’d be great to know that much.”

“I’m curious what the hell was going on with the fraternity. Were they really so wild at this university that this behavior was blatantly ignored?”

“Well, he definitely wasn’t the only person to experience them, they were just meatheads being assholes as far as I know. It was frustrating, though. That’s one of the reasons I bothered to intervene. Even I got tired of it.”

“Yeah. Can’t say I blame you for that. I would, too. But look, don’t allow yourself to feel pressured to deal with it all right now, though. Just...take your time and handle it the way that’s best for you,” she says gently.

“I’ll do my best not to wrack my brain over it.”

“Will I see you tomorrow at work?”

“Yeah, but only tomorrow night. I’ll be at the center in the morning.”

“Alright. Relax ok? Make sure you sort out exactly how you feel first.”

“I will. Thanks, Yuki.”

You bid each other goodbye and hung up. Your eyes flicked around a bit as the wheels in your head turned, already neglecting to keep your promise to Yuki not to worry. You gripped your coffee by the handle of your favorite mug, curling your legs up on the couch as you stared at his text.

You: When I was hospitalized, why didn’t you come to see me?

Choso: ...

It took a while for him to answer, you watched him type, then delete, then type, then delete again, evidenced by the bubble appearing and disappearing. You weren’t sure if he was making up an excuse, or actually having a hard time with the question.

Choso: I couldn’t face you.

Choso: Not after everything. Not until I could repay you.

You feel your heart clench and start to beat faster as you read his messages, and you type your response quickly with the first thought that comes to mind.

You: It happened long ago. The damage is done.

Choso: And it’s my fault. I’m sorry.

Choso: I’ll work to make things right. As long as it takes.

Choso: I could never make it up to you but please let me try.

Choso: Please.

The more honest you were with yourself, the more you were able to simply admit that you weren’t quite sure how to navigate this situation.

You: Why did you take so long to tell me? At the restaurant...

Choso: I wanted to talk privately.

Choso: In a better environment. & I didn’t want to scare you.

You sit and stare at your phone, and then up into space as you visualize his face in your head. It’s so crazy that it’s really him.

The guy you helped gather his things after he fumbled his books. The one who sat at the library studying alone only to be harassed by a group of random students with apparently nothing better to do.

What happened to him was pretty fucked up. He didn’t deserve that.

But of course, neither did you. 

Who is he now?

He’s older, maybe wiser, but ... what could you expect from him?

He’s been to the restaurant many times, and was never stand offish, or fearful... not to mention his appearance. He was practically unrecognizable as your old classmate.

But... he was still warm. Still sweet. Still brilliant.

It was just so strange seeing him again. Being in contact with him again. And it seemed that you’d spoken more in these few months than you had the entire time you were acquainted with him during college.

Choso: I just want to do right by you.

You: ... I gtg for now Choso. Ttyl ok?

Choso: Ok.

↞ ··· ↠

You were already tired by the time you went back to work the next day. You suspect it was mental exhaustion. You had talked to a few kids at the Center earlier in the day, and they had actually lifted your spirits, but you couldn’t help how difficult it felt to just get back to normal.

After a few hours there, you had finally made it to the restaurant, walking in through the back door, just in time to pick up a full section of four tables.

“I’m sorry about this,” Shoko apologized as you were wrapping your apron around your waist. “Mahito is an asshole. He talked to the customers at the door and sat them all at your tables even though we told him you weren’t here yet.”

“Ugh! What the hell is his problem?” You griped.

“I wish we knew,” Yuki answers, “Don’t worry though, we got all of their drink orders. We’ll just transfer all of the checks to you when you’re ready.”

“Oh, I have the best friends everrrrr! Thank you!” You gave them a grateful look and smiled softly as you grabbed a checkbook from her.

“You’d better remember that when it’s time to pool tips,” Yuki quipped.

“Ha,” Shoko laughed, eyeing you playfully, “For real.”

“Oh don’t worry I won’t forget!” You called out as you rushed toward the front. You were already a little tired from having worked that morning, but your second wind was coming on.

You check yourself in the mirror in the doorway to be sure you’re straight before you head to your section, scraping any lint from your crisp uniform and apron. You saunter over to your section, and...lo and behold.

A familiar face sitting at your corner window table.

He was breaking his routine.

He had just been there a few days ago and wasn’t scheduled for at least until the rest of the week was over.

Yuki walks by you, raising her eyebrows as she heads to her tables and mouths, telling you with her eyes as well, “Talk to him.”

Neither of your friends had bothered mentioning that he was there.

 You quickly cut your eyes at her before you approach him, your smile fading as you drew closer. “Ahem ...” You clear your throat as his head is buried in his laptop. He was wearing all black today, relaxed and casual with black combat boots and a hoodie, hair down, looking particularly ravishing.

“What can I get you tonight?”

“I don’t need anything else but this right now,” he says as he nods toward his Hennessy, his dark locks falling over his face, quickly swiped behind his ear as he stares up at you.

“Okay,” you reply, turning away. “I’ll be back in a few min–”

“Except...” he grabs your arm to stop you, “you can tell me what I can do for you.”

“Um...” you laugh nervously as you look down at his strong hand wrapped completely around your tiny wrist. “Choso... come on... I’m a little busy right now.”

“Okay, okay. I know. But if you’d just tell me real quick, I’ll be cool,” he says, taking a sip of his drink, using his free hand, his eyes raking over your form.

“We’re ready to order,” another table calls over to you.

You glance over to them before turning back to Choso. “I have to go...” 

“Alright,” he says, slowly releasing your arm, causing your hand to slide through his, his fingers tracing your palm as you pull away.

Choso sat there. All night. Just as he had the last time he was there.

Ironically, his presence made your night easier, considering you didn’t get other customers sat in that spot.

You were finished with work by 9:30, feeling completely drained as you cashed out. You walked toward the front to leave, only to see Choso sitting at a table close to the door, waiting.

Your stride slowed as you approached, “You know you could just text me, right?” You mumbled.

“Obviously. But why, when I can see you in person?” He stood up from the chair, causing you to look up at him as he slipped the strap of his bag over his shoulder, both of you, just standing there for a moment.

“Come to my house. Have dinner with me.” He paused, “I just wanna... talk,” he gazed down at you through his darkened eyes, taking in your form and your sweet face as his eyes landed on your lips.

“It’s late,” you sighed, averting your gaze down to the floor as you tried to hide the heat rising in your cheeks from his intense stare, “And I’m tired.”

“This weekend, when you’re off,” he suggests.

You took a deep breath, figuring you may as well hear him out. You nod once and exhale slowly, “Okay.”

Choso nods, towering over you, savoring your presence one last time with a hint of satisfaction on his face. “Cool. Friday night then,” he says, his smile warming your heart as he disappears through the double doors.

“That looked like a positive interaction,” Shoko jokes as she heads toward the front door to take you home.

“Well, we’ll see about that. I have no idea what to expect from him honestly. Besides more apologies,” you laugh a little, making light of the situation.

“That’s a start, right? I mean, he’s been on your ass for months now,” she teases, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. He’s definitely persistent. I’ll give him that,” you mumble, watching him through the windows as he hops in his car and pulls off.

Shoko chuckles at you, an unlit fresh cigarette between her lips, “Alright. let’s go.”

↞ ··· ↠

Choso picked you up in his deep green Rivian. As he opened the door for you, he had to help you to hop up inside. Another pleasing aroma, cedarwood, perhaps?, filled the space of the ride, the lights softly illuminating the interior against the dark of the night, the soft music adding a sweet touch to the atmosphere.

After you’d settled into your seat, he closes your door and walks around to his side and climbs in, looking as amazing as always, his glasses tucked  in a black henley with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and gray sweatpants.

His hair was down, his tattoo peeking out from under the sleeve of his right arm, his muscles flexing as you watched him shift the truck’s gears. The way he lit up your insides, you’d definitely call him hot. But, you remembered, that wasn’t always so.

However, he was always sweet, making his sexiness even more attractive now.

You tried keeping your eyes on the road, stealing glances at him every so often as he took control of the car, and of where you were going. There seemed to be a sense of comfort and relaxation that came with that, which you loved.

You glanced down at his legs as they stretched out underneath the dash, one knee waving back and forth as he kept his right hand on the wheel, the other pressed against his pretty lips, his focus straight ahead.

If only things weren’t so complicated.

You arrived at his home, and as you walked into the beautiful foyer, you could already smell some of the food he’d begun to prepare.  

“Dinner will be ready in a minute. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thanks” you replied, following him through the main room to his grey quartz island as you sat on the opposite side, observing him closely while he made his way around his kitchen. 

As beautiful and strong as he was, Choso had a grace about him that was almost mesmerizing. Every movement, intentional. Every intention, deliberate. He lifted each vegetable up to take in it’s aroma before cutting, as if the fragrance was the final quality assurance test it was required to pass before use. 

His tendons flexed clearly against his muscles as he carefully chopped each one, their juices barely spilling onto the cutting board by way of his razor sharp knife. Choso calculated every motion, and savored every moment as he moved, as if the journey toward the end of his process was equally as pleasing as the reward he would receive for the final result.

He served the plates on the corner of the island, as he sat across from you. “Enjoy.” he prompted.

He’d prepared a perfect Kobe steak, medium rare, with seasonal veggies and truffle mac and cheese. And boy, was it divine. The steak practically melted in your mouth, seasoned perfectly with herbs, the veggies were crisp and fresh as if he’d picked them himself, and the mac and cheese was decadent and rich. 

“That was ... so good.” you raved, one eyebrow hiked up. “Did your mother influence your cooking skills also?” You ask him as you finish the last of your drink and set the cup down gently.

He smiles softly, his gaze traveling up to yours, “Yeah. She told me, ‘A man’s gotta know his way around his own home’. I learned plants from her, too.”

“She seems like a wonderful woman,” you reply, the tender look of nostalgia on his face making your heart skip a beat, and his deep voice vibrating you to your core.

“I’m glad you agreed to come,” he murmurs, that beautiful smile peeking again.

“Yet ... I really am still wondering why you invited me,” you tell him, “Choso, I hate to sound too... forward. But...is there something you want from me? I’ve been trying to figure it out, and I just ... can’t.”

He glanced up, locking eyes with you for just a moment, looking away quickly as if the contact had somehow triggered him. 

“Look... I know I can’t change the past. And I’m actually genuinely happy that ... despite how fucked up everything was back then, we’re in good places in life. I just... I can’t help but feel like I’m indebted to you.”

“Indebted?” You shook your head, rolling your eyes in a huff, upset that he feels so much guilt still, “Choso, I’ll admit. I was shocked when you told me who you are. It really threw me off. I spent a lot of time getting over what went down back then. So yeah, seeing you here, now... it was... debilitating. I don’t know. Maybe I realized I needed something...some kind of closure? But you’ve apologized... for whatever it is you think you’ve done. We can leave it at that.”

He leaned against the island, his body facing in your direction, his eyes studying your face, following your every gesture, his gaze sorrowful. “I really am sorry. I wish you could understand how sorry. I regret not standing up to them on my own to begin with, but I regret even more that I wasn’t there for you.”

You purse your lips for a moment and let out a soft sigh, and he continues.

“It’s crazy how this kinda shit follows you into adulthood. For a long time, I let what they said about me shape who I was. And not being who I wanted to be made it worse. I was fucked up. For many reasons.”

He stood from his chair and walked over to you, and you feel your breath hitch as the distance between you grows shorter. “You don’t know this … because I never told you. But... your presence in my life meant … the world to me.”

You turn the stool and your body toward him, your legs propped up by your feet as you observed his expressions. His sincerity remained at the forefront as he spoke, sparking memories of the sweet guy you were once so kind to.

“You were one of the only people who made me feel like myself. Like someone who mattered. Like who I was meant something. All I want now, is to repay you for what you were for me. I’d like to do the same for you.”

Your heart clenches and you swallow as your brain processes his words.

He stepped closer, “You were always sweet. Always helping. Always kind. Even now. You haven’t changed. After everything that’s happened to you.”

You blink, your eyes glassy as tears cloud them for a moment.

“But...Choso, what have you been doing all this time?” You think aloud, your eyes shrinking into a squint, “You created a great career, a home...why haven’t you put this behind you?”

He shrugged, lips curling downwards a little, “I found out that you’d moved here after I started my practice. My mother had already been planning to move out of this house for a while.” he spoke softly, “I got busy focusing on my work, building this life,” his eyes scanned the room.

“I came here...” he continued, “hoping to be closer to you.”

↞ ··· ↠

.

.

Special thanks to the lovely @ashasdiary for not only beta reading for me, but for her wonderful support and helpful notes that pushed me to take this story to the direction I'm currently so in love with! 🥰😘 .

. Thanks for reading! ✨🩸✨

.

.

.

M.List | Ch.02 ↠

Notes: As always, I welcome any and all critiques, suggestions, and comments regarding my work, since I truly feel all of those may make me a much better writer! I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to read my little stories, and if you'd like to be tagged in releases, don't hesitate to comment below! 😊💖

©cocomanga 2024 | Please do not plagiarize, copy, or distribute my work.

Fanart by: @Arekushisu11 Ombre Caution/DNI & Animated lines: Courtesy of @CafeKitsune Additional dividers by @CocoManga

Taglist: 💖Please lmk if you'd like to be removed! 🥰

@lavender-hvze @another365 @vantadaes @chosolover @242422rc @kashiiwi @mintiroo @melaniemartinezloverr @sakura-blxssxm @neurydyta @distractionforyourthoughts @strangegirl7892:) @jasmionerose @bfejp @chosolovers @asramin @destinyfleur @louanneeeeeeee @randomly12aqua @watermelon-19 @sketchy-business @spidergirlnr1 @sillyoverload @flwrbbyx @firebonbon @slutkoo @doomsday08 @scrumptiouscarrotcake @jayeke @minjizziee @stressedand-obsessed @imtheprintt @menwhere

@strvqtt @rowwyboi @i-think-i-have-a-fever @itsswageyamatobiyolo @ms-shoja @whos-curiosity-killed-the-cat @milleriverr @everythingfits-here @ph4n-7om @chaxtic-euphxria @mafertl @fatiguedcow @vxnus101 @honey69b @wisteriaav @lystee @hazeyeyes @iyyshlymg @shelov3sstars @sollasollaahh @animewhur @ghostnotlovergirl @lulubluu @sacredyoongi @sleeplrd @aldebrana @alter-bananant @yuhhh7899 @riverrrrrrrx @luckyperfectionsandwich @insecuregirlblog @npx2 @shyplaidalmondfriend @kill-shoot @milkyyboyy @choupijk @s0ulz4-20 @xiscaprinz @doomalot @alonahh @adastinks @mjmjmhmhmh

[velvetcloxds]

THE BEST THING THAT'S EVER BEEN MINE | S.R.

Pairing: brother's best friend!steve x stark!reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her twenties)

Summary: while hiding out after a mission, you and steve decide that you don't want to hide your relationship anymore

Library Blog | Navigation | Taglist

Steve watched with curious eyes as you walked from the kitchen to the dining room, smiling kindly at Peter when he offered you his notebook to check his mission notes, happy to have gotten the hang of the little system you'd created. Steve was sure his gaze would go unnoticed, looking away before anyone could take note of it, but he was quite terrible at hiding his infatuation with you, even more so the closer he got to you, the need to be with you overshadowing the need to keep your relationship secret.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad, Rogers,” Natasha noted from his side, a knowing grin on her lips as she scattered her gaze between you and him, Steve shaking his head to dismiss her as he turned his attention back to the coffee he was trying to make.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Romanoff,” he bit back, keeping his hands busy, hoping his mind would follow, though he was very much aware of your laugh as it sifted through the room, his heart longing to be closer, be the one responsible for the lovely sound, or the lovely smile behind it.

“Sure,” she teased, leaning against the counter, taking a sip of her coffee as she watched you, your own attempts at hiding your gaze being completely futile, cheeks flushing with a blush when your eyes locked with hers.

This had been going on for months now, if not longer. Natasha would catch the two of you smiling at each other from across the room, your shyness around Steve had gotten worse as you tried to hide how completely in love with him you were and he would try and play off the accidental gestures that gave away his love for you, but Natasha saw right through the little charade. She knew what it looked like when you were in love, she knew that it took a lot for you to fall that freely in the first place, and she’d see no better match for you than a man who was intent on treating you like the world consisted of merely you and him, and his search for your constant happiness and safety.

“She’s not holding up any better than you,” she noted after a few moments of silence, Steve’s actions pausing briefly at the thought of you struggling as much as he was. “She doesn’t like the secrecy, doesn’t like feeling like your dirty little secret,” she explained, and Steve nodded.

“She told you this?”

“She doesn’t have to, I know her, so do you,” she raised a brow at him, settling her mug down to turn around and face him. “She loves out loud, Steve, always has.”

“It’s complicated,” he sighed, and she scoffed, dismissing him so easily as he looked at her. “Don’t scoff at me, you know it’s true, if things don’t work out between us- if I screw this up the entire team will be against me and Tony-”

“Then don’t screw it up,” Natasha interrupted with a shrug, retaking her mug and patting him on the shoulder before walking away.

Steve hated that she was right, hated that he was lectured on what you needed when he considered himself quite the expert. But he’d been a fool. It was bad enough that you were around him every day, but he had to save his affection for the little moments you had once everyone was asleep, it was even worse to know that it made you just as unhappy as it made him. Of course, there were risks, they were piled up quite high, but the way you made him feel made it completely worth it.

“Peter said goodnight,” you noted carefully, snapping him from his thoughts as you put the dishes into the sink. “You were in your own little world in here, didn’t want to bother you,” you added, pulling your sleeves over your hands as you shyly met his gaze. “Everything okay?” you asked, and he hummed, shaking his head as if to clear him of any worries, rationality tagging along as he smiled at you, freely allowing his eyes to rake over your body, noticing your hidden hands as they moved up and down your arms in a feeble attempt to warm yourself up.

“Are you cold, dove?” he mused, and you were surprised by the open use of a pet name, just barely stopping yourself from looking around to check if anyone was around, he noticed, of course, smiling when he reached an arm out towards you. “Come here, let me warm you up.”

“Steve,” you breathed, wanting to take him up on the offer as soon as he said it, but unsure what this meant, unsure what he was thinking.

“I know,” he nodded lightly, walking over to you as your eyebrows furrowed, carefully finding your fingers and entwining them with his, electricity shooting through your veins as a result of the delicate gesture. “I love you,” he noted, leaning his forehead against yours as you closed your eyes, savouring the feeling of him being so close, so open, the familiar touch feeling completely contrasting to anything you’d felt before. “You mean everything to me, and I don’t want to hide that, don’t want to hide you, not anymore.”

“Are you sure?” you stole one of your hands back from him, lifting it to his cheeks where your fingers danced delicately over his stubbled skin, his own eyes closing in the process.

“Never been surer of anything in my life, want to show them you’re my girl,” he teased, and you felt your cheeks flushing with warmth, shaking your head as he pulled you closer by your waist, brushing his nose against yours as he smirked. “Can I kiss you now?” you nodded, far too eager but Steve paid no mind to that, connecting his lips with yours in an instant, smiling against your lips when he felt you shiver in his arms. “You’re still cold,” he noted, pressing a kiss to your cupid’s bow before pulling away slightly.

“Just a little,” you admitted, avoiding his eyes by nuzzling into his shoulder, selfishly hoping that his warmth would surround you, his chest vibrating as he laughed lightly as your needy hand roamed his chest. “You’re helping,” you informed him with a guilty smile, and he tugged you under his arm.

“Let’s get you into bed, hmm.”

“Will you stay with me?” you pressed, hoping whatever just happened would change the answer from what it usually was and you were right.

“Just try and stop me, doll.”

all fandoms: @scandalous-chaos @the-blue-forest

marvel: @mirclealignr @saintlike78 @wrongilbert @scarlet-prey @fandom-life-12 @natashxromanovf @queen-asteria04 @cupids-crystals @justreadingficsdontmindme @freeshavocadoooo @chimichimchim15 @moonbcrry @venomsvl @alexxavicry @murdockcastleslut @onyourgoddamnleft @dumpsterfirecee @esposamultifandom @sheraayasher @eichenhouseproperty @wrathspoet @littlsstuff

[bi-bard]

Taylor Swift Songs that Would Describe Relationships with Team Free Will 2.0 - Team Free Will 2.0 Preference (Supernatural)

Title: Taylor Swift Songs that Would Describe Relationships with Team Free Will 2.0

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline

Word Count: 3,371 words

Warning(s): (Dean's) canonical violence, kidnapping, issues concerning self-esteem, (Sam's) nightmares, mentions of past death of partners, (Cas's) mentions of an argument, self-worth issues, (Jack's) self-worth issues

Author's Note: Someone needs to stop me from listening to Taylor Swift while I'm working out. That's how shit like this happens.

ALSO! HOLY CRAP! THIS BLOG JUST HIT 1,700 FOLLOWERS! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! Should I do something special?

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

Dean Winchester:

State of Grace -

This is a state of grace This is the worthwhile fight Love is a ruthless game Unless you play it good and right

Hunting was dangerous.

That was a given.

When working with the Winchesters, it was even more dangerous.

It took a lot for Dean to be able to let anyone into his life. Most of that was due to the before-mentioned danger.

I was happy with Dean. Happier than I had been with anyone else.

Every risk was worth it. Every hunt and monster and wound were worth it. Because I still got to see him every day. I still had him.

It had been a rough hunt.

I had gotten separated from the brothers. After killing the monster that had attacked me, I stumbled out of the abandoned building. Dean was about to run back in when I did.

"(Y/n)," he shouted before running over and pulling me into his arms. I cringed at the pressure. He stepped back. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I nodded.

When we got back to the motel, Dean sat me down on the bed while he cleaned all of my wounds. Sam had gone out to get food, leaving the two of us alone.

"This shouldn't have happened," Dean muttered after a while. He said that every time I got hurt. "You shouldn't have been dragged into this."

"Dean-"

"I should've kept you away from all of this-"

"Stop-"

"It was selfish of me-"

"Dean," I stood up abruptly. I turned around to face him and sat down again. "Stop it. I chose this life. You know that."

"I just-"

"I know what you're gonna say," I said. "And I get it. You're trying to protect me. I love that. But I picked this life and I picked you. I don't regret an ounce of it."

Dean closed his eyes and looked down.

"I've been hurt, had monsters kidnap me to get to you, and I've seen things that I couldn't have ever imagined," I cupped the sides of his face. "And I don't regret it. At all. Because I love you. I chose to be with you. Against all odds, I chose to be with you. And I am absolutely in love with you."

I leaned over and kissed him gently. He slowly kissed me back. He leaned back a moment later.

"You're stuck with me, Winchester," I said. "Get used to it."

He chuckled lightly, "I guess I can try."

I leaned forward and pecked his lips again, "I love you."

"I love you too," he muttered, resting his forehead on mine.

It was all worth it. He just forgot that sometimes.

Call It What You Want -

Bridges burn, I never learn At least I did one thing right I did one thing right

I smirked up at the demon, not even trying to listen to whatever bullshit plan was coming out of their mouth. I just didn't care. I knew that I was going to be okay.

"Are you even listening," the demon asked.

"No," I said bluntly. "Not even a little. You should work on your presentation."

They tilted their head.

"You don't understand the danger you're in," they replied.

"No, trust me, you're the one that clearly doesn't understand how dangerous this plan is," I explained. "You do know who my boyfriend is, right?"

"That's why I chose you."

"So, you know that you're screwed," I replied.

"You put too much faith in Dean Winchester," the demon smirked.

"Have you seen him," I asked. "Hell yeah, I have faith in him. He's fine as shit, badass fighter, smarter than he lets on-"

"That's enough!"

My ears pricked up at the sound of a car engine.

"You are so screwed," I chuckled, shaking my head.

One day, they'd learn that my commitment to Dean was far more than blind faith.

Daylight -

And I can still see it all (In my mind) All of you, all of me (Intertwined) I once believed love would be (Black and white) But it's golden (Golden)

"What are you staring at," Dean asked.

I snapped out of whatever trance I was in. I blinked at him a few times, trying to zone back in.

We were on a drive home, and I must've completely zoned out while looking at him. Sam had stayed home researching something because the hunt had seemed like a normal salt and burn.

He smirked, looking forward again, "I know I'm pretty, but you could be subtle."

I reached over and swatted his arm.

"Seriously though, what's going on," he asked.

"Nothing," I shook my head.

"You know I don't believe that," Dean said. "Come on... tell me."

I looked out the window, suddenly very embarrassed.

"(Y/n)," he put on a singsong voice and poked my arm. "Tell me..."

"Fine, fine," I swatted his hand away from me. "I... I was just thinking about us."

"Us?"

"Yeah," I nodded.

"What about us," he asked.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Just us. How happy I am."

"Oh, aww," he muttered. "That's cute."

"Winchester, I swear to God if you're giving me shit-"

"I'm not," he chuckled. "I promise."

"I just... I didn't think I was going to fall in love with anyone," I tried to explain. "And when I considered it... I feared the worst. But... you... proved me wrong."

Dean looked at me again for a moment. I saw the smile on his face.

"I love you, Dean."

"I love you too," he replied, reaching over to grab my hand.

It was all so much better than I could've imagined.

Sam Winchester:

End Game -

I don't wanna touch you, I don't wanna be Just another ex-love you don't wanna see I don't wanna miss you (I don't wanna miss you) Like the other girls do

I knew that Sam had hesitations about any kind of relationship.

He was worried about the dangers of the hunting world, and this perceived curse that he had. Many of his exes had died.

Once we started dating, it didn't seem to bother him constantly. He trusted me to be able to protect myself.

However, there were some days where it did seem to get to him.

I would try to be with him most of the time on those days.

We were in the middle of cooking dinner when I noticed how disconnected he seemed to be.

"Sammy," I said.

He hummed and looked at me.

I leaned over and kissed him gently. He blinked at me after I pulled away. I grinned and kissed his cheek.

"What was that," he asked.

"You're stuck in your head," I replied. "I can tell."

"So you kissed me?"

"Distraction."

"Okay..."

"Sam," I grabbed his hand. "You... You know that I'm not going anywhere, right?"

He let out a sigh, "I'm sorry-"

"You don't need to apologize," I insisted. "I just... I am not going anywhere, Sam. I am in this one for the long haul. I promise."

Sam grinned at me. It was nervous. I could tell he was still questioning things.

I pulled his hand up and kissed his knuckles, "I love you, Sammy."

"I love you too."

peace -

The devil's in the details But you got a friend in me Would it be enough If I could never give you peace?

I jumped when I heard Sam yell.

He was sitting up in bed, frantically looking around the room. It was like he was trying to make sure that he was safe. I sat up too, looking to see if I could spot anything.

"Hey, Sam," I said softly, trying to not scare him any further.

He quickly turned his head to look at me.

"What's going on," I asked slowly.

He shook his head.

"Sam," I reached out and touched his arm.

"I... I don't want to talk about it," he muttered.

"Okay," I nodded. "Come here."

I laid back down and pulled on his sleeve.

He moved after a moment of tugging.

His head ended up resting on my chest while his arms wrapped tightly around my torso. I ran one of my hands through his hair.

"I'm not going to push you," I said. "But I want you to know that I'm here. Whatever you need. Okay?"

I heard Sam let out a shaky breath.

"I love you, Sam," I mumbled.

"I love you too," he replied.

I would do anything to help show him how serious I was.

Mine -

Do you remember, we were sitting there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing that's ever been mine

I saw Sam as being somewhere near perfect. Kind and smart. Funny when he wanted to be. He was everything I had hoped for.

He didn't tell me everything about his past until a few months into us being together.

We were sitting outside while Dean was in the bar. We had sat on the hood of the impala. My head was leaning on his shoulder while his arm wrapped around me.

"I never thought I'd get this again," Sam mumbled.

I shifted so I could look at him, "Get what?"

"To experience this," he explained, motioning between us.

That was the beginning of the story. His past romantic... misfortunes, what happened to his mom, how his dad treated him, running away, and coming back.

It all broke my heart. It was the first time he had told me all of it.

After he finished talking, I leaned over and kissed him gently. He only kissed me back for a moment before leaning back and grinning at me.

"Thank you," he muttered.

"For what?"

"Listening," he replied.

"Thank you for trusting me with that," I grinned.

Something in my heart told me that this was shaping up to be the best relationship I had ever had.

Castiel:

mirrorball -

I'll get you out on the floor Shimmering beautiful And when I break it's in a million pieces

Cas didn't know that I didn't need an explanation for what he had done. I understood. And I had long since forgiven him.

"I needed a win for you and Sam and Dean. I couldn't let you guys-"

"Please stop," I begged. I stepped forward and cupped the sides of his face. "I... I don't need you to explain."

"But... I-"

"And you didn't need to come back with a win," I cut him off. "Cas, I love you. I decided that long ago. You don't need to be useful or successful for that. No matter what, I will still love you."

"Why?"

"Because you are the best person I've ever met," I said. "Even without the powers or the wings or the mission. I would still love you because you are still you."

Cas looked down.

"You can rest," I continued. "I will still love you just the same. Kiss you. Hold you. Adore you. I don't need useful. I need you here."

I gasped a little when Cas suddenly kissed me just because of how fast he moved. I wrapped my arms around his neck and moved closer to him.

Cas slowly pulled away, "I... I love you too."

You Are in Love -

'Cause you can hear it in the silence You can feel it on the way home You can see it with the lights out You are in love, true love

It had been a rough hunt.

Sam and Dean were in the motel together, arguing over some stupid details. I walked out to get some air. Those rooms can feel so small and restrictive on a good day. When people are fighting, I give up hope to feel comfortable.

I was leaning against the side of the impala when I heard the flap of wings.

"Hi, Cas," I said, not looking at him.

He leaned next to me, "I wanted to check on you."

"How'd you know," I asked.

"I... I just kind of did."

I grinned.

We fell into a comfortable silence after that. This was normal for us. It was nice. We were able to sit quietly and feel a sense of comfort.

Our silence was interrupted by Cas speaking up, "(Y/n)"

I turned my head to look at him.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine awkwardly. I froze right then.

He pulled back a few seconds later.

"I... I think I'm falling in love with you," he said.

"Cas," I muttered. "I'm falling for you too."

Cas started smiling as I pulled him into another kiss.

It was perfect. It was right.

As childish as it sounds, I knew that this was true love.

Afterglow -

Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves Chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there's no us Why'd I have to break what I love so much? It's on your face, and I'm to blame, I need to say

"(Y/n), it's okay-"

"No, no," I shook my head. "No, it's not okay. I treated you like shit, Cas."

He looked down.

"I shouldn't have done that," I said. "I am so sorry, Cas. You deserve better than that."

Cas stepped forward and pulled me into his arms. I slowly hugged him back. I heard him take a deep breath.

"You don't have to automatically forgive me. I would rather you tell me how you actually feel than spare my feelings."

"I... I don't want to upset you further."

"You shouldn't have to fear holding me accountable," I replied. "I... I love you, Cas. I want to be a good partner. I don't want to hurt you in any way."

Cas kissed the side of my head, "I love you too."

I grinned and stepped back, "Now, how about we talk about this and figure out what actually happened here."

He nodded and took my hand.

I was dead set on having a healthy relationship with Cas. I was willing to do anything to treat Cas the way he deserved to be treated. That also meant calling myself out.

I just hoped he'd stay with me even when I messed up.

Jack Kline:

Hey Stephen -

'Cause I can't help it if you look like an angel Can't help it if I wanna kiss you in the rain So, come feel this magic I've been feeling since I met you Can't help it if there's no one else

I should've known that ranting to Sam was a bad idea.

He was sitting at one of the tables in the library. I was standing on the other side. Sam had promised I could talk to him about anything, so I didn't hesitate to rant about my growing crush on Jack.

"I just feel stupid," I explained.

"You aren't stupid," Sam replied. "You're human."

"Humans are stupid-"

"You got my point," he said.

"It's just... Jack is a sweetheart," I started rambling. Every compliment I could think of. "Adorable and too kind for their own good. Awkward, yeah, but in such a cute way. Brave as hell. It's just... gosh-"

"(Y/n)-"

"I just wish I had the guts to say something," I continued.

"(Y/n)-"

"I have faced demons and angels and vampires, but I can't tell a cute person that I want to go on a date with them-"

"For the love of God, please turn around," Sam snapped.

I froze and my eyebrows furrowed. I slowly turned around and saw Jack staring at me. Their eyes were wide, and they were completely frozen.

"I'll let you two chat," Sam nodded before leaving the room.

"I am so sorry," I said immediately.

"Why," Jack asked.

"Because... Because you had to listen to all of that and I ruined everything and I'm sorry-"

"I like you too," Jack cut me off.

I took a deep breath, "What?"

"I like you too," they gave me a nervous grin as they repeated themself. "You're really cool and nice. You've helped me a lot. I... I really like you."

"Oh, well," I looked down for a moment. "Well then, Jack, would you like to go on a date with me?"

Jack nodded, "I'd really like that."

"Good, good."

I looked down again. This was the best way things could've gone.

The Archer -

Can you see right through me? They see right through They see right through me I see right through me I see right through me

I had spent years of my life in the hunting life. I had killed more than I would ever admit to. And all through that, I held almost everyone at arm's length.

Sam, Dean, and Cas were all exceptions to my normal rule. They were aware of that.

Jack wasn't.

I wanted to trust them. I really did. I wanted to feel safe enough to be with them. It just wasn't that easy.

I could work through most days. Hide away from any of the fears in the name of being loved. Jack just made loving someone look so effortless. I wanted to be like that.

Some days... Some days I just couldn't.

I would pull away completely. I would try to isolate myself. No words, no touching, nothing. Jack would be at arm's length again.

Jack didn't like to leave me alone on those days.

They would stay next to me all day. Usually, they would just hold my hand. A small reminder that they were there and weren't leaving.

Kisses were soft and short. Again, they were more reminders than anything else.

We wouldn't talk much. Jack would speak every now and then, but there weren't many conversations.

I would be told that they were there and that they weren't leaving. That they loved me. Anything to help me know how much they cared for me.

They shouldn't have had to deal with this. I never wanted them to.

Eventually, I'd be able to rest my head on Jack's shoulder. I would close my eyes and try to hide from my thoughts.

"I love you," they would mutter to me. "I know your brain is messy right now, but that doesn't change anything. I love you."

I would turn into their side a little more. Their head would lean against mine.

I would slowly start to feel like I was walking out of my thoughts. I would start coming back to myself.

"I love you too," I would mumble back after a while, leaning up to kiss their jaw.

I would always be thankful for Jack being by my side.

It was nice to not have to run.

I'm Only Me When I'm With You -

And I don't try to hide my tears My secrets or my deepest fears Through it all nobody gets me like you do

Jack had teleported us out to the forest that they had started spending time in when they were stressed.

It had become a safe space for us. It was the only place where we could both talk about anything without fearing judgment from anywhere else.

I was so fortunate for that. I was so fortunate for Jack.

The two of us had fallen silent after a while. We were sitting on a blanket, backs resting on a fallen tree, and holding hands.

I pulled Jack's hand into my lap. I started playing with their fingers with a gentle grin. Jack's head rested on my shoulder.

There was a sinking rock in my stomach as I spoke up again, "Jack."

"Yeah," their head popped up so they could look at me.

"I... gosh...," I muttered before taking a deep breath. "Jack, I love you."

I was terrified. It was the first time I had said that. It was new and not knowing how Jack would react made me want to vomit.

I watched as a smile slowly formed on Jack's face.

"I love you too."

I smiled back.

Jack leaned over and kissed my cheek. We both let out nervous laughs before going back to relaxing again.

We didn't have many perfect moments in this life. But this. This was one of them.

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

Author's Note: Deadass might be able to make a part two to this because this was more difficult to narrow down than I anticipated. I also could do shit like this with other artists if people wanna see that?

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

Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[rayslittlekitten]

Manhattan

Jey's Pride Celebration 2k21 Series

A/N: This is for this week’s Writer’s Wednesday for @autumnleaves1991-blog​. I did not plan on writing anymore for “The Kiss” universe that was specifically written for the Writer’s Wednesday and @flightlessangelwings​ Pride collab in June, but since this week’s photo prompt is in New York City, I thought it was fitting for that universe. This fic was also inspired by “Manhattan” by Sara Bareilles (YT link below). I’ve been wanting to write a short screenplay for it for a while but that never happened. This would take place between “Would You Ever?” And “Taking Another Chance”.

Rating: T

Word Count: 920

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x GN!Reader

Contains: angst (I legit cried while writing this), implied PTSD?, cursing

Photo Prompt:

Things weren't always rainbows and sunshine between you and Will.

Two years ago, Will moved across the country to be with you and now, you're shoving your clothes into a duffle bag.

"Will you please stop?" Will shouts.

You ignore him and continue to pack, not caring that your clothes are going to be wrinkled.

Two months ago, Will started distancing himself from you and now, you need some space away from him.

"Y/N, just--" Will tries to grabs your hands but you push him away.

Two weeks ago, Will ignored your questions and concerns, and now, you don't want to hear what he has to say.

"Can you please fucking say something?" Will pleads.

Two days ago, Will brought you to this nice hotel in the Upper West Side to celebrate your third year dating anniversary for a three-day weekend, and now, you'd rather be back home in Colorado.

"Please don't leave."

Two hours ago, Will said some things that he regrets and you don't want to do the same.

"Babe, I'm so sorry," Will tries to wrap his arms around you and hold you. "I didn't mean it."

Two minutes later you find yourself walking through Central Park, looking down at the bright orange leaves that fell to the damp ground. It had rained earlier today. You needed some fresh air and alone time to think.

"Can you please just shut the fuck up? I can't even hear myself think!"

The words keep playing over and over in your head.

"I can't fucking do this right now, okay? This is supposed to be a happy time. Can we just get this shit over with first and then maybe talk about it when we get home?" 

This was the first time you both got into a heated argument. You were tempted to call Benny, but you didn't want to make this awkward for him. Will had always been open with you but these last few months you've noticed he's been shutting you out. You ask him about it but every time you do, he shuts down. You don't want to push him to talk if he's not ready, but he also refuses to acknowledge that there is something wrong, at least to you. He must think you're too stupid to not notice his change in behavior. You tried though, but he lashed out at you. Maybe you pushed a little too hard.

Your phone vibrates and you reach into your jacket pocket. "Will" flashes across your screen and you hit the red button to ignore it before slipping it back into your pocket.

When you get back to your hotel room, you walk in and find the room empty. You check the bathroom and he's not there either. You take the opportunity to finish packing. Your phone rings again and you silence it. You take the notepad and pen the room provided and write a small note. You throw your bag over your shoulder and head to the front door. As you go to grab the handle, the door opens.

Your eyes meet Will's sad blue eyes. Will looks at you for a moment and then wraps his arms around you, holding on to you like you can disappear at any moment.

"I'm so so sorry, Y/N," Will sniffles. "I love you so much." He pulls back and cradles your face with his hands.

"Will, I love you too, but this isn't going to work out for us if you continue to keep me in the dark. I understand that you've been through some really rough and unimaginable things, but as your partner, I need to know what's going on inside your head."

"I know, I know. " A tear rolls down his face. You can't help but let a tear escape from your own eye as well. "I know I fucked up, but I promise I'm going to try, for us."

"I'm going to spend a week or two in Colorado. I think it's time I should go visit my family anyways. It's been a while," you tell him while placing a comfortable distance between you two.

"Please don't go." Will reaches out to you but you take a half step back.

"It's just going to be a week or two. I think we both can use some space right now." You blink back a few tears.

Will looks at you for a moment and then swallow the lump in his throat. His brows wrinkle and he nods.

"Where are you going now?" he sniffles.

"I'm gonna go home and start packing. I'm planning on leaving tomorrow," you tell him.

"Can I at least take you home?" Will asks.

"I think I'd rather go alone."

Will nods again, understanding. "Can you at least let me know that you got home okay?"

You nod.

"I'll see you in a couple of weeks," you say and then give him a peck on his lips.

Will wraps his arms around you and pulls you in again, deepening the kiss. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, looking back at you with wet eyes.

"Fuck, I don't deserve you." Will whispers.

"You take care of yourself, okay?" You tell him.

Will nods. "You too."

As you pull away, you faintly hear Will tell you he loves you again.

"I love you, too, Will. You need to do the same for yourself."

You sniffle and give him a kiss on his cheek before finally leaving the room.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

spanish lessons.

Gif credits to the author.

FRANCISCO ‘CATFISH’ MORALES.

TRIPLE FRONTIER | USEFUL LINKS.

❝ words: about 900.

❝ request by @phoenixhalliwell: Hey pal 👋 Thank you for being a willing participant to the Frankie teaching the reader Spanish with a reward system HC. I cant wait to see you do with it 😊💛

❝ a / n: don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it, i’d really appreciate it!

Every time you see Frankie talking in Spanish, his face literally brightens as his eyes shine. It isn't common for him to find people who talk in his native language, so you have just heard him speaking to Santi.

Sometimes you've seen some movies and tv shows in that language —for you, unknown, although you know some words and simple sentences.

And you know he misses it, even if he left Chile many years ago.

You have searched to take a course, but they aren't really compatible with your work, so the only option you can see viable is using one of those apps where you can spend the time you want learning and improving, with no pressure.

Duolingo. Everybody talks about it.

Of course, you haven't said anything to your boyfriend, wanting to surprise him. It probably will take you a while, but you'd do anything to see that smile he draws when he speaks in Spanish.

Bit by bit, your vocabulary is more extensive, knowing to identify every single thing around you.

Verb tenses are another story. If when you were in elementary school you thought the English verbs were the most complicated thing in the world, it was because you didn't have Spanish lessons.

As it's normal, you understand it better than you can speak it, get into the habit of watching everything in his language whenever he leaves for a mission during a couple of days. And now, all your music is in Spanish too, which is helping you with pronunciation too.

But when you feel confident enough to say something in his language, you just don't think about it, letting go of the words from your mouth.

“¿Yo puedo tener más café?”

(Can I have more coffee?)

Frankie turns at you blinking confused, believing it has been just his imagination. Sitting at the island kitchen, you have your empty cup raised in your right hand towards him, some steps away from you. Your boyfriend is staring at you in complete silence and you're starting to panic. Have you said something out of place? Has he understood your accent?

Slowly putting down your mug, you grab your phone turning around on your stool, giving him your back. Fastly, you look for the notes app on your phone to check if you have said it correctly. But, when you look up, you find him by your side and his eyes on the screen. You can't help but scream not expecting it, locking your phone before he can really read anything.

“Since when do you spe—? Are you learning español?”

“Uh…” You mumble clearing your throat. “¿Yo puedo tener más café…? ¿Por favor?”

You repeat then scratching your left eyebrow, trying to pretend that your cheeks aren't burning in shame whilst avoiding eye contact with an astounded Frankie. He doesn't reply, coming back to the corner where the coffee maker is, grabbing your mug to pour the drink inside.

“Gracias”.

(Thank you).

“You don't need to say yo at the beginning”.

“Uh?”

“It's enough sayin' puedo tener más café”. He explains offering you back the cup.

“Oh… Oh, okay. I'll write it down”.

Even so, you feel a little bummed because it hasn't had the intended effect. You have been working really hard for the last three months, but you haven't received the smile you were expecting. Puckering your lips in a slightly forced smirk, you take your phone to write his advice, not being capable of looking at Frankie coming closer to you again. He takes off the device from your fingers to leave it on the marble board, leaning forward to press his lips on yours.

This is much better. This is much better than a simple smile.

For some reason, Frankie has taken the habit to kiss you anytime you tell him something in Spanish. A word, an expression, the chorus of a song… He feels proud of you, of the small things you do to make him happy. And it's his way to demonstrate you.

Long conversations are his favorite. He's always looking for an interesting topic, letting you talk for hours and hours while he only hears you enraptured on how good your voice sounds in his language —being a little more honeyed, a little softer. Don't misunderstand him. Frankie loves every single tone of yours, but the Spanish one? That's a higher level.

And he thought that situation couldn't be perfect until he hears you speaking to Santi.

“Para ti, la cerveza más fresca”.

(For you, the coldest beer).

His eyes widen in surprise holding the drink, as you raise both eyebrows nodding with your chin. Until you realize it isn't correct at all.

“Fría. Fría, no fresca. La cerveza más fría”.

“¿Habla español?” He says turning at your boyfriend about to laugh glad of it. “¡Hablas español!”

(She speaks Spanish? You speak Spanish!)

Frankie can't help but kiss you in front of his brother shamelessly, cupping your cheeks on his palms and peppering your lips noisily.

“Espera, ¿qué es eso?” Santi asks frowning funnily.

(Wait, what is that for?)

“Me besa cada vez que digo una frase bien”.

(He kisses me any time I say something correctly).

“No Spanish in my presence”. He fastly demands, taking a sip from his beer while waving his free hand. “I feel like you're gonna have sex if we keep talkin'. And I'm too innocent for that”.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow

TRIPLE FRONTIER: @phoenixhalliwell @goldielocks2004 @pedritomando @spideysimpossiblegirl @im-an-adult-ish

frankie morales: @agirllovespancakes

[fairytalearista]

I posted 657 times in 2022

That's 657 more posts than 2021!

116 posts created (18%)

541 posts reblogged (82%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@taleweaver-ramblings

@lady-merian

@dangerously-human

@swinging-stars-from-satellites

@thrina-thrina-on-the-wall

I tagged 436 of my posts in 2022

Only 34% of my posts had no tags

#kendra e. ardnek - 41 posts

#books - 29 posts

#writing - 21 posts

#fairy tales - 18 posts

#austen fairy tale - 17 posts

#rizkaland legends - 14 posts

#the austen fairy tale - 13 posts

#cinderella - 11 posts

#pro life - 11 posts

#jane austen - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#okay but i've been looking for a good version of much ado to watch ... for a project ... i think i need to go hunt down the full version...

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

So, I published a Cinderella / Pride and Prejudice mashup last week. And it's already my fifth-highest grossing book, as it just passed the royalty total for the book I published ten years ago...

So, um, if anyone else wants to help me see how many more of my back titles it can outsell by the end of the month, that would be fun. The title is Crown and Cinder, and it is the second book of a series of Austen / Fairy tale mashups. (By the end of next year, I do plan to have all six of Austen's novels retold, and I have a fairy tale picked out for every one of them). It's pseudo-medieval worldbuilding with elemental magic, and I think they're pretty fun.

And if you'd like to check out some other fun Cinderella retellings, I just published Cindy Ellen, a short and sweet western-esque retelling by my mother, and my friend Sarah Pennington released Mask of Scarlet, which is a mystery set in a Jazz-era world with fae. It's delicious and I highly recommend the whole series. Bastian is the Best, and you all need to fall in love with him as much as I have.

56 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

#4

Can y'all do a thing for me? Crown & Cinder, my Cinderella / Pride & Prejudice mashup, is currently 99 cents on kindle, and will be so for about a week. It's a countdown sale, meaning that I'm making the full 70% royalty.

I'd like to try to get 1,000 sales while it's a dollar. I'm currently sitting at one. So if the concept sounds intriguing to you (and it's a VERY fun story - Lizzy has fire magic!), please consider buying it - and sharing this post to spread the word. a thousand sales is a lofty goal, but I think if I can hit the algorithm right, it'll be possible. So, pretty please, go check it out.

(And, cough, book 1 will be 99 cents next week, but I dropped this one this week 'cause of scheduling issues. So keep an eye out for that.)

57 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

#3

"He's only mean to you because he likes you."

Like many girls, I was told this by my mother, but it was always with the caveat: "And he lacks the emotional maturity to properly handle the attraction." And I think that's an important caveat that most girls need to hear - you can take the complement, you can let it boost your self-esteem, but move on. He's just an immature boy who isn't worth your time.

And, honestly, it can work both ways. Girls can be just as mean when they don't want to admit attraction.

319 notes - Posted July 19, 2022

#2

"What your characters say is their motivation isn't in line with their character and actions."

Yup, it's called narrative dissonance. Homegirl ain't being honest enough with herself to admit what's actually driving her. Maybe she'll figure out over the course of the book, maybe we won't. Who knows. I love pitting show and tell against each other and seeing who comes out on top.

522 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The secret of creating good art isn't talent, it's patience.

I'm an author, my sister draws and paints, but we both dabble in the other's wheelhouse.

And, one day, I had just hastily thrown together my cartoonish attempt at a fairy (Not terrible, but I've just accepted that my art style is on the cartoon side of things), and my sister starts telling me all the tricks and stuff that improves proportions and style ... and I just look at her and go, "I don't have the patience for that."

And she just pulls back, blinking. "But you sit there, hours upon hours, stringing words together for your books. Don't tell me you don't have patience."

"I do have patience for writing. Every word I write is visible progress, and I've moved forward in the story. But art is static. And I don't have the patience that allows me to pour hours and hours into something static. You, however, focus on that one image and chip away at until you have it."

My other main craft is knit and crochet. My sister sews. And I realize that this holds true. My patience is linear. I'll spend weeks and years on a project, just so long as each word or stich is a visible step forward. My sister's patience is more abstract. She will polish the details on a image until it's perfect, constructing elements until it fits her vision - but she won't give it the time I will. She wants to get things done and have them be over.

And neither one is wrong. Neither is unreasonable. But if you have an art you want to pursue, you have to give it patience. The patience to do the craft, and the patience to learn how to do it well.

And yes, some of us have a bit of talent that means we need a little less patience ... but that talent is just a head start. We still have to run the rest of the race.

6,677 notes - Posted April 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

(Btw, C&C is officially now my second-highest grossing book, and it is slowly but steadily overtaking the record holder, Water Princess, Fire Prince)