#so please don’t be too sad I promise this isn’t the final end of everything forever

[kyluxtrashpit]

May I ask why under construction is going to be your final kylux fic?? I'm gonna miss your writing for them if that becomes true 😭

So I talked a little bit about this on twitter, but tbh should’ve here both because half my audience is here and also because tumblr actually has the room for a complete explanation without worrying about character limits lmao

At this point, I don’t intend to stop writing star wars stuff completely if that’s any comfort. I have some renbens I want to do/finish, also a recent bentai idea, plus who knows what inspiration will strike. Even kylux inspo is possible, especially if we get new stuff at some point (like perhaps that comic in august). Nothing is set in stone here. I never thought I’d actually be at a point where this fic feels finishable lmao, yet here I am, so who knows

However, I have been writing kylux for over 7 years now. I posted that moodboard on my anniversary of the first fic I published, though I was reading fic and stuff for a few months before that as well. And it’s just… after this fic is complete, I’m not sure I’ll have anything left to add to kylux, you know? With it, I feel like I’m saying everything that I want to say about them. Writing this, as both rough and rewarding a journey it has been, feels a lot like closure to me. Tbqh I’m expecting a lot of people not to like the subject matter or agree with some things regarding this fic, but for the first time in a while, it really is about me and what I want. It’s a story I have to tell - that’s why it’s driven me mad for 3.5 years lmao. And after it’s done? I’m not sure what will be left to say. Maybe something, in which case more kylux will happen, but also maybe nothing. Essentially, I’m preparing both myself and the people I care about in this fandom (including lovely readers like you) for the latter just in case it is what happens, even though it may not. Maybe when I post it, it’ll get a ton of love and I’ll get flooded with sudden inspo. But maybe not. Everything has to end eventually, sadly, and this just feels to me like an ending, like the closing of a chapter. Maybe I’m wrong, but that’s just the feeling I have. I’m going with my gut here rather than a specific plan

Also, as much as I have people in this fandom I truly care about and adore and I have people who care about and like me, whether we’re close friends, mutuals, or just a follower and a person that have never spoken to each other yet the care is there regardless, there’s also some elements to this fandom that are not so great. I know a lot of people who’ve been driven out. I myself was cancelled on twitter for running a particular event and the rest of the fandom hasn’t treated me the same since. The fandom has changed a lot in those 7 years, some of which is for the better, and some of which I think we could’ve done without. Plenty has also stayed the same; both the good and the bad. And I think the fandom as it is today and what I want to get out of it are just unfortunately incompatible. It’s no ones fault, but sometimes a space isn’t giving you what you need it to. I wish it could still give me that, I really really do, but right now it just seems it can’t. And that’s not the entirety of the reason, but it is a factor as to why I’m not as interested in continuing as I once was. I’m just not getting what I need out of the fandom right now. Again, everything is mutable, but it’s felt that way for a bit now

All that being said though, kylux will still very much exist on this blog. I still very much enjoy the ship and I don’t have a new fandom to move to permanently as of yet, so reblogs will continue, as will shitposting and memes and all of it. I recently finished collecting all the tweets I want to preserve here, so there will be an influx of posts, ficlets, memes, all of it, that will be coming sometime in the near future (whenever I have the energy to actually start the process lmao). This is still the kyluxtrashpit, after all lmao

So I’m not leaving the fandom by any stretch, it’s just that I feel like this fic will say all the things I have left to say about kylux. And because the fandom space isn’t giving me what I’m looking for at the moment, I have less interest in seeking out inspiration and rather am letting ideas to come to me, which at present I just don’t have any more beyond this fic. I could be wrong and who knows, maybe there’s another 7 years of kylux ahead of me lmao. But I want everyone who’s supported me at any point during these last 7 years to know ahead of time that it is very possible for this to be my last fic for kylux because I think that’s the least I can do for you all

[littlelamy]

Request hehe: Maybe Reader has some trust issues due to past cheating etc. So she is constantly doubting If Rafe is doing something behind her back and it’s damaging their relationship/Rafe is feeling very offended that she could ever think that and leaves very upset. So some self-sabotage on her part.

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! 💗 pngs from @saizun

the tension in the room was as palpable as the crisp autumn air seeping through the edges of rafe's window. you stood by the edge of the bed, arms crossed, while rafe paced near the door, his brows furrowed and lips drawn tight. it wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself in this situation—accusations hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

“i just don’t get why you think i’m lying to you,” rafe finally said, running a hand through his messy blond hair. his voice was raw, teetering between frustration and sadness. “what did i do this time?”

the pang of guilt that shot through you was immediate, but it was quickly overshadowed by the relentless doubt that had been gnawing at you for weeks.

“i don’t know, rafe,” you muttered, staring down at your hands. “you’re just… too good to be true sometimes. i mean, look at you.” you gestured vaguely at his tall, athletic frame, the way he looked even in a simple t-shirt and jeans. “how do i know you’re not out there talking to someone else? everyone likes you.”

he stopped pacing, standing still for a moment as your words sank in.

“you think just because people like me, i’d cheat on you?” his voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that made you wince.

“it’s not like that—”

“then what is it like, y/n?” he interrupted, his tone sharp now. he stepped closer, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. “because this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. you keep accusing me of something i’m not doing, and it’s…” he exhaled shakily, taking a step back. “it’s killing me, honestly.”

the tears you’d been holding back began to sting your eyes. you hated how this always ended—with you feeling like the villain and rafe looking at you like you’d just run over his dog.

“it’s not about you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “it’s about me. i’ve been through this before, rafe. i’ve trusted someone before, and they… they betrayed me.”

“and i’m paying for what someone else did?” his voice cracked, and he shook his head in disbelief. “do you even hear yourself?”

you stayed silent, your chest tightening with every second that passed.

rafe let out a bitter laugh, running his hands over his face. “do you really think i’m that kind of person? that after everything we’ve been through, i’d just—what? throw it all away for someone else?”

“i don’t know!” you blurted out, tears finally spilling over. “i don’t know what to believe anymore. i want to trust you, rafe, but it’s so hard. every time you’re late, every time you get a text and don’t tell me who it’s from, my mind goes to the worst place.”

“that’s not fair,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “you don’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. you don’t even try to trust me.”

you wiped at your tears angrily, hating how vulnerable you felt. “maybe i don’t know how,” you admitted, your voice breaking.

rafe stared at you for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he fought to keep his composure.

“i can’t do this,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

your heart sank. “what do you mean?”

“i can’t keep proving myself to you when i’ve done nothing wrong,” he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i love you, y/n. i love you so much it hurts, but this?” he gestured between the two of you. “this is tearing me apart.”

you took a step toward him, panic rising in your chest. “rafe, please. i’m sorry. i’ll work on it, i promise. just don’t… don’t leave.”

but he shook his head, his expression a mixture of sadness and resolve. “i need some time to think,” he said, his voice trembling. “i can’t keep feeling like i’m not enough for you when i’ve given you everything i have.”

he turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. the sound of the front door closing echoed through the house, and you collapsed onto the bed, sobbing into your hands.

you had pushed him away. the one person who had always been there for you, who had loved you despite your flaws, was gone—and it was your fault.

the days that followed were a blur. you went through the motions of life, but everything felt hollow without rafe. he didn’t call, didn’t text, and the silence was deafening. you wanted to reach out, to beg for his forgiveness, but every time you picked up your phone, the shame stopped you.

instead, you spent your time reflecting on the mess you’d made. you thought about the way you’d let your past dictate your present, how you’d let your insecurities poison something good.

you thought about rafe’s face the last time you saw him—the hurt in his eyes, the way his voice broke when he said he loved you.

you loved him too. you always had. but you’d let your fear overshadow that love, and now you were paying the price.

a week later, you found yourself standing outside rafe’s house, your heart pounding in your chest. you’d rehearsed what you wanted to say a million times, but now that you were here, your mind was blank.

taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

it opened a moment later, and there he was—rafe, looking as handsome as ever despite the tiredness in his eyes.

“y/n,” he said, his voice soft but guarded.

“hi,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “can i come in?”

he hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let you in. you walked into the living room, the familiar space feeling foreign without the warmth you were used to.

“i’m sorry for just showing up,” you said, turning to face him. “i just… i needed to see you.”

he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “what do you want, y/n?”

“i want to fix this,” you said, your voice trembling. “i want to fix us.”

rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “you can’t just say that and expect everything to go back to normal.”

“i know,” you said quickly. “i know i’ve hurt you, and i hate myself for it. but i’ve spent the last week thinking about everything, and i realized… i’ve been so unfair to you, rafe. i let my past ruin what we had, and i’m so sorry.”

he looked at you, his expression unreadable. “do you even trust me?”

“yes,” you said without hesitation. “or… i want to. i know i’ve given you every reason to think i don’t, but i do, rafe. i trust you more than anyone. i’m just scared. scared of losing you, scared of getting hurt again.”

“you’re not the only one who’s scared,” he said, his voice softening. “do you know how it feels to love someone who’s always waiting for you to screw up? to feel like no matter what you do, it’s never going to be enough?”

tears welled up in your eyes, and you stepped closer to him. “i’m so sorry, rafe,” you whispered. “i never meant to make you feel that way. you are enough—more than enough. and i don’t want to lose you because i couldn’t get out of my own head.”

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know, y/n. i don’t know if i can keep doing this.”

“please,” you said, your voice breaking. “i’ll do better. i’ll prove to you that i can be better, that i can trust you the way you deserve to be trusted.”

he studied your face, his blue eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

“i love you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “but this has to change. i can’t keep living like this.”

“it will,” you promised, stepping closer and taking his hands in yours. “i’ll change. i’ll prove to you that i can be better.”

he sighed but didn’t pull away from you. “this is your last chance, y/n,” he said quietly. “i mean it.”

“i won’t waste it,” you promised, looking up at him.

for a moment, there was nothing but silence between you, the tension thick and heavy. then, slowly, rafe’s hands moved to cup your face.

“don’t make me regret this,” he murmured, his voice soft and raw.

“i won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned down.

his lips met yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender, a silent promise of forgiveness and hope. you clung to him, pouring every ounce of your love and regret into the kiss, vowing to yourself that this time, you would get it right.

when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed.

“i love you, baby,” he said again, his voice steady this time.

“i love you too,” you whispered, your heart swelling with both relief and determination.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl l @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[acesofspadess]

Qatar

Ace Giovanelli Universe

warnings: Lando cursing, showering together??, Brazil mentions,

summary: Qatar was supposed to end their bad streak, it was supposed to be their week. But they should have known that this season never sticks to the plan.

Qatar

No one spoke about Brazil. They couple was very good in keeping their relationship off the track, but once Lando became a contender for the championship, and then Ace took P3 from Charles making her a contender, there wasn’t any way that strain wouldn’t come to the relationship.

Before the summer break, they were still a couple in the paddock, but after, they were teammates, and it didn’t take a mad scientist to figure out it was hard on both ends of the couple. They made it through every weekend though, Ace willing Lando away from the media, celebrating every moment for him even if he wouldn’t.

But Brazil, that was the worst. Ace had seen Lando angry, but this wasn’t anger, it dehumanising the way Brazil went. They had so much hope after Ace switched positions with him for the Sprint win, still getting a McLaren 1-2. Then the endless rain that delayed quali, and the multiple red flags, it would take a miracle and a half for Lando to come back from this, just as he had finally willed himself to believe he could do it.

“Lando, you have to sleep,” She begged when she came back after finding out he was eating expired food. He hadn’t slept the whole time she was with her mum and he refused to eat the good food in the fridge before and after she arrived.

“I don’t want to.” He sighed, still sitting at his console. “Lando please.” She came up to him running her hands through his hair even though he refused to look at her. “This isn’t good for you mon cœur.” She was so sad for him. “I know that Ace.” He said sharply. Her hands continued to play in his hair despite his resistance. “I’ve lost the battle, people were counting on me and I failed them. They asked me to do one thing and I couldn’t do that.” He finally stood up, with much vigor and walked away.

Ace sighed before following him into the bedroom. “Lando. You didn’t let anyone down. We shoved you into that position entirely too late.” Ace admitted to him. “You could have fought Max, you would probably still be in the race if you didn’t try to not be better than me.” Lando fought back.

“Lando don’t start that.” She immediately shut down. “If I didn’t want to help you, I wouldn’t have. I would have made racing hell for you. But I didn’t-”

“Because team orders.”

“-because I believed in you.” She corrected him. “Help me help you mon amour.” She sat down on her heels next to him. He stayed looking down at their conjoined hands. “It feels like I don’t deserve any of this sometimes. You, my seat, the entire fight.” He listed. She lifted his head up with their conjoined hands. “You are one of the most worthy contenders of everything you just listed. You are a world champion in the making Lan, and never doubt that I will be right next to you when you do. I’m not going anywhere.”

Lando smiled as wide as he could and pulled her onto his lap. “I love you. I’m going to marry you. And when this is all over im going to give you my everything. I haven’t been the best boyfriend this season, I know that. But I’m going to do my best to get back to being who you fell in love with.” He promised rubbing her side.

Ace smiled kissing him so in love. “This has been one hell of a season Lan, I love you everyday, and fall in love with you everyday. We’ve gotten through this season; we can get through anything. As your teammate, girlfriend, or wife.” Lando squeezed her hips involuntarily at hearing her call herself his wife. 

“Let’s get through this last triple header together.”

Vegas was another shit show. It was never a good track for the team, the couple just wanted to finish the race at one point. From Vegas they flew straight to Qatar and met up with Keegan. Ace physically saw the weight of the championship lift off his shoulders. He was smiling and laughing more, in accomplice with his terrible jokes.

Getting to the track Lando held onto her, he normally wasn’t a big PDA person, they normally just walked next to each other, but now his hand was holding hers and his head was leaning against her shoulder. “You’re very cosy today.” She kissed his head while tugging his cream knitted sweater. “It’s cold.” He said softly. “You’re too cute.” Ace smiled as he hugged her waist before they walked into the hub.

The singular practice went well considering the couple were up all night playing Tarkov with Max and Bankai. Sprint Quali was also really good. They were both very fast, switching pole position between the two of them almost every lap.

In the end Lando was on Pole and while she was P2, George split them up pushing her down to P3.

The sprint was finally here and Ace was ready. She knew she had great starts and would try to get past George at the first chance she got.

The final sprint race of the season is underway!

Ace took off in good timing as she pulled up next to George. 

Can Ace Giovanelli put pressure on George in P2? The answer to that is not into the corner, maybe on the outside- it’s Lando Norris that finds himself into the lead- AND ACE GIOVANELLI WHO ROARS BY TO TAKE SECOND PLACE!

Flying around George wasn’t as easy as she would hoped. George was on her rear the entire race. When DRS enabled Ace knew she was under pressure. She was defending like crazy when George was clearly trying everything to get past her. She learned her defending moves from Max, which was a blessing when done correctly. She braked late as she saw George in her mirrors. Their was slight contact, but none to throw her off.

“If you need Lando to give you DRS to defend, let us know.” She heard Rupert. “Yeah, please.” She answered.  She saw the gap in front of her decrease and thanked Lando in her head. 

“Russel 0.4s but you have DRS.”

In the the DRS Ace was able to increases the gap to George while also chasing down Lando.

“Russell 0.6s. You know this, but don’t attack Lando while he’s helping out.”

Ace rolled her eyes as she went into the straight. “Don’t poke a sleeping bear.” She answered back.

She was increasing the gap to George, but staying in Lando’s DRS put her in dirty air which was eating at her tires. 

“I need more pace from Lando please. He’s up my arse.” Ace groaned checking her mirrors. 

“Russell 0.8s. Lando is going to use a bit more pace.” 

Ace kept her distance relative. She wasn’t going to fight Lando after he helped her. Her tires were spent and she was doing all that she could. Lap 9 came and George tried to overtake her into turn 2 which she did not let happen. 

In defending against George she almost lost the DRS to Lando. Lando was getting quicker and she was still fighting George the whole way through. He tried again Lap 14 where Ace effectively cut him off, but lost all DRS from Lando.

“Lando giving DRS.” She heard again and tried to increase her pace. The last 3 laps were purely Ace staying in Lando’s DRS and defending George. There was no room to breathe. 

“Final lap.”

“Mon Dieu finally.”

George tried to get around her again into Turn 1 but it wasn’t possible given her position on the track. Ace was just trying to stay behind Lando when into Turn 19 he went wide letting Ace through just over the line. 

There was no room for her to even back off for him. She continued for the cool down lap looking out the halo for Lando. “Nice work, mate.” Rupert told her. “Yeah, nice teamwork. Thank you for that. Lots of points.”

She was confused about her feelings. She didn’t deserve this win. Lando did, and he gave it up. She saw him wave from his own car as he went wide around the corner. She flipped him off as he sped away.

Pulling up to the makeshift parc-ferme she sat in the car catching her breath. She undid the seatbelt and the wheel before hoping out. She stood behind as Lando got weighed. When he flipped around she saw his eyes crinkle in his wide smile. “You are going to be the death of me.” She said through the open visor. He hugged her anyways. “I love you.” He told her. “I love you.” She said back as they parted ways.

She got weighed, still in shock. Taking off her helmet and balaclava she sighed feeling the cold air. She stripped off her knee-pads and gloves as Zak walked up to her. “Good work out there. That was strong.” He clapped their hands together. “Go easy on him.” She begged as he walked away. 

She fixed her hair for the pictures as Zak came back over to her with Lando to take a team picture. Ace held up a 1 with a smile on her face not even sure it was a real one. After their photo Ace and Lando stepped away from Zak as it was time for Lando's interview. She zipped up his gilet and sent him on his way.

“Second place, Lando Norris, that was an exciting final lap.” Ace watched as Lando discussed his think processes with keeping her in his DRS.

“...and we did our thing.” Lando told James. “It was close at the end there though. Little bit of payback, maybe, for Brazil. How tight was it? Were you concerned that you were not going to be able to orchestrate that? I mean a tenth of a second between you and Ace and only 3 more back to George.. It was tight.” James chuckled.

Lando had a big grin on his face. “I know,” he chuckled. “It was probably a bit closer than what i was wanting, um… yeah, but I planned to do it since Brazil, you know, so..” he shrugged not finding anything else to say. “Just what I though was best, probably a little bit sketchy. The team told me not to do it, but I thought I could grt away with it, and we did. Honestly I don’t mind. I’m not here to win sprint races I’m here to win races and a championship, but that’s not gone to plan you know, so I did the best we could and I look forward to tomorrow.”

Ace shook her head slightly. Of course he did it anyway. It was Lando. “And your winner, for the second time in the Sprint format, and the second consecutive win here in Qatar, Ace Giovanelli.” James introduced her as she and Lando swapped places.

“Look, it started right off the green, you got that great move around George, and really for you it was all about defence for the first part of the race.” Ace nodded along as he broke down her race. “I think it was about defence for the whole race to be honest.” She joked. “But, yeah, I had a good start in turn 1, and then I just didn’t quite have the pace. I lost my front early on. I was struggling a bit for the rest of the sprint. Some great teamwork on Lando’s end, without that help it would have been much more difficult sprint. But it’s nice to have a McLaren 1-2.”

Ace continued on with the interview talking about what she needed to fix for qualifying in few hours. They took their podium picture with their trophies and the sprint was officially over. “I can’t believe you did that.” She told him as they walked together. “You did it for me many times. You earned it. Even if you don’t like sprints.” He teased. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Many congratulations to the top three finishers of the F1 Qatar Sprint ahead of the FIA Formula 1 Qatar Grand Prix. In third place, George Russel. In second place Lando Norris and taking her second sprint victory here in Qatar our winner, Ace Giovanelli….”

Ace sat through the majority of the conference watching them ask George and Lando about the race, but had a few questions for herself.

“...And Ace just for your side of that late switch, I’m presuming that you had know idea it was going to be happening. What was going through your mind when you realised what Lando was doing?” 

Ace picked up her mic as she thought about her answer. “Uh, no I didn’t fully know. I was never told anything, but I know Lando well enough to know how he works. It just speaks about our teamwork and fairness for the team. It doesn’t change the points in the whole view, so. Yeah, I just think it shows lack of egos within the team.” She answered. She set the mic down as George looked over.

“His ego?” He asked shocked. “I’ve got a massive ego.” Lando said without thinking, and when he realised what he said he shook his head laughing in slight embarrassment. Ace chuckled at self-proclamation and slapped his foot. 

Lando was chuckling into the next question, but listened to her answer as it was for the both of them. “No Ace has put it very well obviously, um, yeah, next year is a refresh and you know Ace has an opportunity to fight for the championship too. A lot of what you guys write about and talk about has been because of the Drivers Championship fight, and that’s where a lot of talk and things started. I earned my right to have some of those privile- privl- shit- sorry!” 

Ace smacked a hand to her face at Lando’s slip up. “Landooo.” She groaned, very similar to the Alex did. “That’s a fine.” George teased as Lando groaned rubbing a hand over his face. “Sorry,” he apologised again before continuing, “privileges.” He chuckled saying it correctly but losing his train of thought. “Uh… oh yeah, I earned my right by doing a good job through the whole season, to be given that opportunity. I don’t go around asking for it, like I’ve said in previous interviews, it’s certainly not how I want to win a championship. You know, I want to go out and give Max a fair fight and do my part and own it my way. Sometimes there’s inclusion, which is Ace helping me on a couple of occasions. Everyone spoke like it was going to be every race going into Baku, and it was the opposite way around. I did a little bit there, and Ace helped me win in Brazil, sadly things turned for the worst on Sunday, and the opportunity was gone, but I’ve repaid it today. I thinks its our strength as a team, and it’s definitely apart of why we are where we are as a team now. Why we are the top team in Formula 1 and why we’re fighting for the win in the constructors.”

Ace though it was very well put other than the slip up of their team dynamics and how they still managed to work as teammates and not a couple in track.

The race:

Qualifying was shit to say the least, there was no way Ace or Lando were fighting for the front row with the problems the car was having. She and Lando were on the second row together, which for them, was as good as they would get.

As the race unfolded under the floodlights, the battle for the podium- for the constructors- became a breathtaking display of precision and strategy.

From the outset, Ace demonstrated why she’s one of the most promising talents in Formula 1. A clean getaway allowed her to hold her position despite pressure from George Russell's Mercedes. 

However, the race's turning point came during the second stint. After an early pit stop under a virtual safety car, Ace rejoined the track with fresher tires, setting her up for a thrilling duel with her best friend Charles.

She closed in on Leclerc during the middle laps, trading lap times within tenths of a second. Despite her relentless pace, she couldn't quite find the opportunity to pass him, whose defensive driving was textbook-perfect.

“Ace, Lando has a 10 second stop and go penalty, keep pushing as much as you can.”

“What the fuck? For what?!”

“We’ll discuss after, just keep your head down and keep pushing.”

As the final laps approached, the top three were separated by less than seven seconds. Max, in his usual dominant form, led the race comfortably, while Ace remained locked in a battle for second with Charles. 

Even with the anger fuelling her, she couldn't overtake Charles. Getting out of the car in parc ferme she was irritated. She didn’t say anything over the radio, holding her tongue. Charles and Max congratulated her as she did them, but there was no smile on her face.

Ace moved throughout the post race interview on auto-pilot, she was more worried about getting to Lando. She couldn’t remember any of her answers in the media pen, or the team picture, just the look on Lando’s face.

“Hi.” She whispered when she finally got a chance to see him properly. He just shook his head and buried it in her neck as she hugged him. “I’m sorry.” He whispered thickly. “No, don’t do that. Like you said, you aren’t stupid, if you had seen it you would have lifted. That penalty was way too harsh.” She said, pulling his face back. He didn’t meet her eyes, simply looking past her. “Get you stuff mon amour, let's go.” She whispered. As she watched him walk off she pulled out her phone.

Ace: He’s not good

Max: yeah, we’re all pissed, mate

Ace: Are you still streaming?

Max: yeah, have him hop on.

Ace: Read my mind. Love you, talk to you when we get back to the hotel

Max: Love you, ciao.

Lando came out with his bag and Ace held her hand out. He took it and held it closer than normal. “Max is still streaming, you should join when we get back.” She whispered and smiled when she saw the small smile on his face. “Yeah I think I will, just want to forget this entire weekend.” He said as he hopped into the car behind her. The car ride was silent with his head resting on her shoulder. “I love you mon cœur.” She whispered to him out of the blue. “I love you. More than I may say, but I really do. Thank you for everything you do for me.”

He leaned up to peck her lips. “You never have to thank me for taking care of you.” She said, pressing another peck to his lips. The car arrived at their hotel and they quickly went through the elevator and into their room.

“Shower, then you can stream.” She told him softly. He nodded as she stepped into the bathroom to turn the water on. “I’m proud of you.” She heard him from the bedroom. “For?” She questioned still in the bathroom.

“You got P3 today. Almost P2.” She stepped around the threshold as he said it and saw him looking at race highlights. “While I thoroughly enjoy you being obsessed boyfriend coded and watching my highlights, we both know what you’re going to look at next.” She cocked her head at him and sucked his teeth. “Right, so drop the phone and come join me.” She said sternly but softly.

He did as was told and joined her in the bathroom, phone still on the bed, and joined her in the shower. Ace let Lando have the main stream of hot water, she wanted him to relax, sink into whatever world outside of this one. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her, Ace knew he would not be moving from this position unless he had too. With a small chuckle she grabbed her body wash and lathered where she could reach on him.

“Tu vas bien mon amour?” She asked after a particularly heavy sigh from him. He hummed against her chest, “Je t’aime.” he said his little french accent coming in. “Je t’aime aussi.” She smiled.

They remained in the shower not long after, just enough for Ace to wash them both off. Lando put his boxers on after toweling off and putting lotion on before sitting at the desk in the bedroom and opening his laptop.

“You ready for a raid mate?” She finally heard Max’s voice through the computer. “Yeah, whatever, just want to forget about this weekend.”

“I understand pal, more upset than you are, mate.” Max was using a stupid voice on purpose and she was glad he could be there for his best friend no matter what. Lando held his hand out for her without even looking and she chuckled, walking over to sit in his lap.

“Max, say hi.” Lando demanded as the game was loading. “Hello there.” He said in his stupid voice again. “Bonjour Max.” She chuckled. “Congrats, mate. Proud of you.” He complimented. “Merci beaucoup.” She continued in french knowing it piss Max off, which would make Lando laugh.

“Yeah, alright. Before you go on and on in French.” He said annoyed. “Mais tu aimes quand je le fais.” She shrugged and heard him groan frustratedly. “I don’t even know what that means!” He said slightly raging. Ace could see a small smile on Lando’s face.

“I think you only knowing English is your fault Max.” She pressed on further. “I know Portuguese!” He shot back. “Do you?” She said teasingly. “Alright now, I didn’t invite you on to get bullied.” He teased back.

“Is it bullying if its true?” She continued. “Bob, get her mate.” He gave up and Ace heard him chuckle for the first time since getting out of the car. “Yeah, I’m leaving on my own merit, it has nothing to do with you.” She teased getting up from Lando's lap with a peck to his lips. “Ciao, ciao.” max bid. “Wrong language, but ciao, ciao.”

It was nothing short of a busy weekend for Ace, some spectacular news early in the weekend, to the sprint win and podium, but also the fact that they were still fighting for the constructors. The season wasn’t over yet.

taglist: @unlikelystay

[shadowbriar]

James Potter - Traitor

Pairing : James Potter x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 1.9k Warning : Cliffhanger (sort of). Not proofread as always. Synopsis : As gracious and angelic Lily Evans is, she couldn’t help but to see her as some villain who might steal him away. Notes : Inspired by this request and Olivia Rodrigo - Traitor. Pretty sort as I don't know if anon would like a happy or sad ending? If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ James Potter's Masterlist click here. Taglist : @jsjcue @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sofiacblair @coffeehurricanes @ineedmentalhelp123

She should’ve known better. She should’ve known that when he pulled that stunt at the Great Hall, proclaiming his feelings and just how desperate he’s been to get her attention, that it was only a projection of the words he wanted to confess to another. She should’ve known that when he looked at her with those eyes that were filled with love, it would never compare to the affection he hoards for another. She should’ve known that with every promise, every sweet nonsense he whispered to her ears, they were truly addressed for another.

The signs were laid bare for her to see. From the way he stopped holding her hands in the hallway to making up excuses and cancelling their dates. His kisses have turned into quick pecks before they’re gone altogether. The jokes he used to share have stopped coming. Dissipating into thin air with no warning.

Supposedly it was her fault. She should’ve said something, calling him out from the lack of effort he’s been showing but she knew she was pulling on a thin thread. Their relationship has always been based on a frail foundation. She knew that deep down there was no other woman that could topple his first love, so she kept quiet. Crying herself to sleep and praying to whoever might listen out there to help salvage their relationship. Anything to keep him just a little bit longer.

“Love, you left your hair tie in my room,” James says once he takes a seat, busying himself with the stack of pancakes in front of him.

She takes the unassuming item and examines it. This hair tie wasn’t hers. She doesn’t have bright orange hair ties, “This isn’t mine, James.”

“Oh,” He responded, taking the item and placing it in his pocket nonchalantly “Must be Lily’s then.”

“Lily?”

“Yeah, we had an impromptu study session last night after our rounds. She helped me with my potion essays.”

“But we promised to do that essay together,” She says, forcing a smile as she tries her best to conceal her disappointment and heartbreak “I waited for you to have some free time so we can work on it together.”

“Yes well, like I said, it was an impromptu session. We finished our rounds earlier than expected so we figured we could use the free time to do the assignment.” He explained, still oblivious to the harm done to her heart “Shouldn’t you be proud I’ve finally managed to finish an assignment earlier than due? This is a huge improvement for me, don’t you think?”

Her head nods, another pretend smile decorating her face. James looks happy and proud of his achievement. It was true. When else would you find James Potter diligently working his schoolwork? He’s always been one of those students who waits for the adrenaline rush of working everything at the last minute. He’s brilliant, perhaps too brilliant to ever spare an hour in revising his notes and making flashcards for the upcoming exams, so this certainly is a huge improvement to celebrate for. If only it wasn’t because of Lily.

“You’ve been spending more time with Lily, lately.” She points out. Her hands were shaking, knowing that the pool she’s stepping in might be deeper than it seems and she might not know how to swim to the shore but she needed to start somewhere. She needs to save their relationship somehow.

James’ brows furrow, a slight sign of disagreement, “Not really. Our rounds just happened to be scheduled together a lot this month.”

“Well, you also cancelled our study date last week for her.”

“Yeah, that’s because she needed my help with Divination.”

A rude laughter escapes her, “You’re the worst from our House in Divination, James. She doesn’t need your help.”

“Where are you going with this?” He finally snaps, turning to face her with evident annoyance in his eyes “I thought you would be happy with me finally trying to fix my grades.”

“I am. I just didn’t realise that needed to be done by increasing the amount of time you share with your ex-crush.”

“Oh, so you’re jealous?”

She was quiet now. Sure it was jealousy that plagued her mind the first time he began drifting away but these days, these days she’s only been insecure and worried for their sinking ship. Anxiety over the chance of her being replaced by someone who has always had his heart has been haunting her nights. As gracious and angelic Lily Evans is, she couldn’t help but to see her as some villain who might steal him away.

“You’re being paranoid, again.” James scoffs, turning completely blind and deaf to her silent agony “There’s nothing going on between me and Lily. I’m trying to fix my grades for me. She just happens to be a great teacher and companion to help me study.”

She's still quiet, weighing if she should believe his words.

"Please, I don't want to fight," James sighs, dropping the fork on his hand and taking hers to show his sincerity "She's just a friend, I promise."

There was truly nothing left for her to say that wouldn’t act as petrol to their burning bridge. James wasn’t listening. For a while now he hasn’t truly cared about a word she’s said and it was painful to finally understand this. That he might never have been as sincere as she thought him to be. Or perhaps he did, once, yet that feeling has died a long time ago with no chance of revival. His feelings for her have withered, faded into nothingness.

And it’s only a matter of time before the flame in her heart dies too.

—-

It was a nasty fall.

She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this much worry and cried so much from something Madam Promfrey claims as ‘nothing but a light nudge on the head’, but she was there when the bludger hit his head. She was there when James began losing balance of his broom and falling to the hard ground. She was there when the team crowd around their passed out captain.

Her eyes were getting heavy now. The watch on her wrist has shown that she has skipped dinner a few hours ago. Some of the lights on the hospital wing have been turned off, making the hall darker as night falls deeper. If it wasn’t for the boys coming to visit James half an hour ago, she would be left starving and secretly creeped out by the eerie feeling of the infirmary.

“You should get some rest, Love, you’ve been waiting here for hours.” Remus advises, giving her shoulder a slight squeeze.

“He should be up anytime soon, now,” She reasoned as she looked up to see the tall boy “I want to be there when he wakes up.”

“Trust me, Dove, knowing Prongs, he might just sleep in till tomorrow,” Sirius added “Besides, you won’t miss a thing. He’ll still be the same obnoxious Potter tomorrow morning.”

A small curl of smile tugs on her lips.

“Come on, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” Peter offers this time.

“You don’t have to, Wormy. I’m fine—”

“Dove, please,” Sirius begs “You look awful. And I mean this in the most endearing way but you could really use a bath.”

“Thank you, Pads,” She rolls her eyes, finally standing from her seat and glaring at the raven haired boy “Your honesty is always something I could count on, even in the darkest time.”

Sirius grins, nodding, “I am a man of honour.”

“Let me know if anything happens? If he wakes up?”

“We will,” Remus reassures “Goodnight, Love.”

With a last bid of hug and ignoring the still awful churning feeling in her gut, she links arm with Peter and walks out of the hospital wing. It’s been hours since she’s waited for her boyfriend to wake up from his sleep and the fatigue plaguing her body has only been recognised as she takes further steps away from the infirmary. Perhaps the worry has amplified the soreness of her muscles. It’s never an easy life dating the Captain of Gryffindor team.

She hates to admit it, but she might really need that bath Sirius was talking about.

And just when they were about to exit the tower, her brain reminded her of her left satchel, “Shoot, I forgot something.” She groans, letting out a frustrated sigh “Give me ten minutes?”

“Is it that important?” Peter asks “We can just bring it to you later.”

“I’ll be quick, I promise. I have to finish my paper for the first period tomorrow, I need to get my satchel.”

Peter only nods at her as she begins running back to the ward. Truth be told, she’s finished the paper as she waited for James earlier. Leaving her satchel was completely by accident and she could’ve just continued walking back to her dormitory and ask the boys to bring it to her later, but why would she pass up a chance to see her boyfriend one last time?

“So did she come?”

A smile blooms on her face as she hears James’ voice echoes faintly. He’s up.

“Of course she did, she waited for you for hours.” Sirius answers “She’s your girlfriend, Prongs, she never left.”

“Oh,” James answered, the disappointment dripping from his tone slows down her steps “I was asking about Lily, actually.”

There was a pause. She could see Sirius and Remus exchanging a glance from behind their backs. If it wasn’t for the curtain blocking James’ view, he would’ve seen her coming.

“So did she come?” James asks again.

“No, Prongs. Why would she come?” Remus asks, his tone slightly rising in annoyance.

“I don’t know,” James answers “I thought we were getting closer. I just figured she’d want to check on me.”

“Well, she didn’t,” Sirius says this time, the same level of irritation evident in his tone “Why are you even thinking of her? You have a brilliant girlfriend who cares for you. Who literally spent hours sitting on that awful chair, worried about your bonked head, and the first thing you asked about when you woke up was Lily?”

“It was just a question, Pads. No need to get all worked up on me.”

“Well, your question is rubbish, Prongs.”

“Why are you—”

“Hey guys,” She says, finally showing herself from behind the curtain “Sorry, I left my satchel. Oh, hello James, you finally woke up.”

She could see the surprise on James’ eyes that he quickly blinked away with a sweet smile, “Hello, Darling.”

“I’m glad you’re up. Are you feeling okay?”

“Still dizzy, but I’ll live.” He says warmly “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Uh, no, I need to finish my papers.” She says instead, fighting the loud ringing in her ears from the heartache “Besides, you need all the rest you could get. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“But you wouldn’t—”

“I really need to go. Peter is waiting for me,” She cuts in “Good night, James.”

She glances at Remus and Sirius for a brief moment. Staring at them for too long would make all the dam she’s trying to uphold break lose and the last thing she’d want to do tonight would be to cry in front of James. No, she would not give him that satisfaction. It is one thing to deny and avoid all of her questions and another to actually dismiss her presence. Perhaps it's time for her to accept that the heart James wears on his sleeve was never hers to begin with.

As she walks out of the infirmary for the second time tonight, she could hear Sirius’ curse faintly, “You’ve lost her for good now, Prongs.”

[margeoww]

Let me be honest here, ‘After All This Time’ should be a series or at least mini series and I’m ready to drop a kidney for it.

PLEASE MAKE IT A SERIES! 😭 Also, love your writing! 🫶🏽

After All This Time

back to my main masterlist.

toto wolff masterlist

Chapter 2

pairing: toto wolff x exwife!reader

summary: Toto reflects on the highs and lows of his 20-year marriage after seeing his ex-wife for the first time in four years. Memories of love, loss, and mistakes resurface, leaving him questioning if reconciliation is still possible.

warnings: themes of emotional conflict, mentions of divorce and strained relationships.

The echoes of their reunion at the gala lingered in Toto’s mind. Sleep had evaded him as the brief conversation played on repeat, unearthing emotions he thought were buried. Seated alone in his office, surrounded by the glow of the city lights, memories flooded back, raw and unrelenting.

The First Meeting

Their story began at a charity event in Vienna. Toto was a young, ambitious entrepreneur, accustomed to being the center of attention. She, on the other hand, was an anomaly in a room of predictable faces. Her laughter, genuine and unguarded, drew him in.

—Do you always observe people as if you’re calculating your next move in chess? —she asked, her smile disarming his ego. Toto was speechless, a rare occurrence.

—Only when someone interesting appears —he replied eventually, and that was the start of everything.

The Early Years

The early days were an adventure. She celebrated his ambition, becoming his anchor amidst the chaos. She was his biggest supporter and his sharpest critic, keeping him grounded while pushing him forward.

They spent evenings walking through Vienna, laughing as though they were the only ones in the world. Their life together was filled with simple yet unforgettable moments—cooking together, debating over who cut vegetables better, or mornings when Toto lingered in bed just to hear her hum while making coffee.

But success came at a price. Formula 1 consumed Toto, demanding every ounce of his time and energy. Promises of quality time were replaced by meetings, races, and endless travel.

—It’s not just that you work too much —she said one night after yet another canceled dinner. —It’s that I don’t know where I stand in your life anymore.

That conversation marked the beginning of the end.

The Anniversary That Changed Everything

The most painful memory was their 20th anniversary. Toto arranged an extravagant dinner, hoping to rekindle what had been lost. But the tension between them was undeniable.

—Do you really think a dinner can fix years of distance? —she asked, her voice heavy with sadness.

That night ended in silence, and Toto realized it wasn’t just about time or work. It was about connection—a connection that had slowly eroded despite the love that still existed.

The Divorce

The separation was agonizing but inevitable. Though neither said it aloud, they both knew the love remained. But sometimes, love alone isn’t enough.

Their last meeting was in the lawyer’s office, signing the divorce papers. —Take care of yourself, Toto —she said before walking out. Those words, filled with affection and finality, haunted him for years.

Back to the Present

Toto exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. Four years had passed since that day, years spent burying himself in work and pretending he was fine.

But now, after seeing her at the gala, the past felt alive again. The way she looked at him—with surprise, nostalgia, and something he couldn’t quite decipher—left him restless.

Could he fix what had been broken? Or was it far too late?

As rain pattered against the window, Toto allowed himself a thought he had avoided for years: hope.

Okey okey, this is my first mini series, and Im so happy for all the support that you guys are giving to me. Thank you thank you. Hope u like it. ❤️‼️

[unabashedly-so]

Reaching

word count: 920

warnings: mentions of alcohol, sex, and kind of self-destructive vibes I guess?

Similar to and taken some inspiration from @snailmail444's fic, "Elliot Situationship"; but I promise while are inevitably structural similarities, the content is, hmm, unfortunately organically homegrown. Hope you don't mind the mention--it's a fic that stuck with me and I just felt it fair to acknowledge the similarities! 💕

----------

Elliott needed a muse; you needed a release. Neither of you were ready for commitment, but neither of you were ready to be alone.

So together, per the agreement, you do everything except love.

He reads you his manuscript. You tell him the town gossip. You dance, you drink, you dance some more, you drink a little more. You discuss philosophy, politics, religion, family, and all the things neither of your last partners knew very much about. You smell salt in his hair, the cherry wine on his breath, and taste the cherries when he kisses you.

It’s well past 3am—and not for the first time nor for the last—when he asks you if you’ve ever…? And the answer is complicated—it always is. When he listens, you’re certain you see it—in his intention, disbelief, sadness, care. When he holds you in his arms, it’s secure.

Then you make love. Or, you would, but it can’t be that, so you… what was the word he used, ever the wordsmith?

“Fuck.”

He tries to say it smoothly, but it trips out of his mouth like an accident. Elliott doesn’t curse. He could euphemize, allegorize, wax poetic… but whenever it comes to this, he curses instead.

He is gentle, tender, slow as he lights sparks down your body.

The first several times, everything feels right in the world. Riding the high of release and connection, you hardly notice it’s not the same. Then its absence begins to grow heavier on you, time after time, until you finally recognize—it hurts.

You spend your days raking yourself over different scenarios: we have to stop doing this, or I can’t keep doing this, or this is no longer beneficial for me, or you’ve begun to mean too much to me, and always, I’m sorry.

You spend your nights chasing, reaching for what you know you cannot have, and telling, lying to yourself that the act of reaching is enough. Because you can’t, but you do. You do, you do, you do.

If you think you are in love, and you feel like you are in love, then how far of a reach is it to say you simply are?

Pain’s like that, too.

“Harder,” you tell him the next time he’s between your legs.

He kisses you just below your ear, whispering as he does not falter in his steady pace, “Patience, patience…”

“Harder.”

Now he pauses. He looks at you, his beautiful auburn hair tossed in a way he never lets anyone else see, and you look at him. His voice is soft but firm.

“I don’t want to hurt you…”

--but there’s a lift at the end, you heard it. He’s weak for you. “You won’t,” you lie, sinking your teeth into his weakness. “Please.”

You blink and hope the lowlight hides what had welled in the corners of your eyes when he’d stretched you to tears only moments ago.

His eyes hold yours in the winded silence between you. He opens his mouth to say something, then looks away, lips pressed into a thin line.

This is what we signed up for, isn’t it? If you don’t love me, then fuck me like it.

“Do it,” you press.

And not without hesitation or passion, he does.

It hurts, but at least it’s an honest hurt.

Afterwards, you lay your head on his chest and listen to his heart gradually find its steady rhythm again. His arm is wrapped around you. He pauses before he kisses your hair, where his lips do linger.

When it is time to leave, because someone must always leave, his fingertips trail against your skin. For a split second, you imagine they twitch, reaching, as if to grab you and bid you stay. But you stand up and only feel the chill of empty air on your skin.

It’s not the first time you’ve done this together, too, so there’s a ritual around leaving. You go through it with mechanical precision. He thanks you for coming by, says he enjoyed your company. You say the same, and together, at an arm’s length, you do both mean it.

“Good night, Elliott,” you bid him as you reach for the door.

“Good night, love,” he says back to you without flinching.

Why would you say that? you want to scream, Why would you say that?

And so, instead of screaming, you don’t say anything at all. You open the door and step outside and away from the cabin, and maybe the door closes behind you, maybe not, it doesn’t matter. Your eyes transfix on the sea as the roaring of the waves crashing against the shore drowns out everything else. They swell, they break, they reach and reach and reach, and then they’re dragged back, cast back into the devouring void. To be re-congealed, reformed into swells destined to break again and get dragged back again—

and reach. And reach. And reach.

It’s high tide, and the sand an arm’s length away is solid and cold from a wave for now receded. Another wave swells, breaks, reaches, and is dragged back, leaving barely a trace to show so that each wave looks fresh and new, and not an infinite plus one.

You are not so lucky. Though your tracks in the sand quickly erode in the breeze, you will hold the memory from each and every time you find yourself here again.

How many more times will it be?

You begin to count the waves.

[hotluncheddie]

Memories of somethin' even smoking weed does not replace.

wc: 2.9k | cw: alcohol | rated: M | part: 1/2 | tags: pre s4 au, steve harrington centric, stobin soulmates, raised catholic steve harrington

part 2 | ao3

˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆｡‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊

8:32pm January 3rd: Steve’s car

‘God stop complaining! It’s one party!’ Robin says, her exasperation at Steve finally boiling over.

Steve rolls his eyes, hard, wants to make sure she sees it. He’s stressed and uncomfortable and wants to be petty and petulant and complain because this night is going to end in him embarrassing himself somehow, he just knows it. 

Robin makes just as much of a face back at him but then her eyes are full of concern. ‘You’ve just, been so mopey lately.’ she fiddles with her fingers, bites a nail even though that was her resolution. ‘and I know you say you haven’t been, but you know that I know, that you barely got out of bed on your days off over the holidays and that makes me sad.’ Robin laments, ripping his bitchiness off like a bandaid, seeing whats underneath.  

Steve signs, defeated by her big beautiful brain. She is right, but. ‘Robbie. it was between Christmas and new year, there was nothing going on. What do you expect me to do? it’s literally time made for relaxing.’ Steves own exasperation falling away into something that just sounds tired. He’s so tired. And he hates it when she worries, he’s not, he’s still not used to it. Someone who cares, notices when he spends three days in bed because the thought of getting up when his parents are downstairs makes him want to puke. And, he loves her for it, but, sometimes it makes his skin crawl, makes him feel like he’s not good enough, not hiding well enough. Pitied. 

‘But you don’t relax. You mope. You, like, wallow.’ She pokes his arm a couple times for emphasis, but her voice is softer, still a little sad. ‘And.’ she takes a deep breath. ‘I know you don’t want to talk about it. But I also know this time of year makes you miss Nancy.’ 

‘Oh God, Rob, please.’ Steve whines, desperate now. ‘Don’t start bringing up Nancy.’ He drags a hand down his face, that is the last thing he wants to talk about. Think about. Admit anything to anyone about. 

She’s not, entirely wrong but Steve still hates hearing it. He does miss Nancy, or, well, misses her in theory. He doesn’t really miss her anymore. But, he misses being her boyfriend, a boyfriend. Being needed, and being held, as pathetic as that sounds.

‘I know. Just.’ Robin says, twisting in her seat to look at him looking at the road. ‘I just. I want you to have some fun dingus.’

Steve squeezes the steering wheel. He nods. Glancing at her and giving her enough of a smile that she knows not to feel bad. It’s really not her fault that this time of year makes him want to sink into a hole, makes him think about purgatory and black vines, what he wants for his future if both can exist.

‘It’ll just be some band kids there, a few stragglers, no one’s going to care that you’re there too.’ Robin explains. ‘Plus, if they say anything I’ll be there to defend you.’ And Steve can hear that care again, but its lighter, said through the joke. He lets his shoulders drop and Steve smiles for real. He can’t help it. 

‘Yeah, yeah.’ he says, like she isn’t his everything. Glancing away from the road a second, Steve catches her smile. Happy she’s won but happier that he’s going to at least try and have fun.

‘And, don’t forget you promised to help me with seeing if any of the girls there are even remotely available to me.’ Robin sits back normally in her seat. Talking normally again, worry about her soulmate time over. ‘Plus, who knows, your new favourite customer might just be there too.’ She says into the window, head leaning on her palm. 

‘Robin!’ Steve near shouts, scandalised that she’d bring that up. 

Robin just cackles.

‘Man, you say a guys jeans fit him nice one time and then it’s all you hear about.’ He grumbles, pretending his cheeks aren’t flaming red. He really hopes any discomfort tonight has nothing to do with that. He almost prays on it. But monsters come out of walls so he stops himself. 

Robin wriggles around in her seat, delighted by his suffering. ‘Hey! Hey! No, okay you ragged on me over Tammy! I can make fun of you for making goo goo eyes at Eddie Munson!’

9:00 January 3rd: Kitchen

Steve shivers as the heat from the house mixes with the cold evening air he just walked through. Robin at his side but she’s quickly swept up in a little crowd to say hellos. She looks for him but Steve just waves her on with a scrunch of his eyebrows and a gesture to the beer he wants to find a sport for. 

The kitchen in strewn with bottles and cups and snacks, not a total disaster but people have definitely been helping themselves. Steve is a little laser focused on getting the cans set down so he can start on one, relax his nerves a bit, so he doesn’t even notice Eddie sitting on the counter until he nearly gets kneed in the crotch. 

He takes a hasty step back and gives himself a mental shake, get out of his own head. Eddies smile looks amused, his eyes able to look so sharp. Steve swallows, grateful for Eddies silence. 

‘Hey man. You want one?’ Steve offers Eddie a beer and makes a spot for them on the side. 

Eddie takes it, nodding in thanks, their fingers don’t brush, Steve would know. ‘You looking for anything stronger tonight? like King Steve back in the day?’ Eddie asks, taking a drink, hair framing the long line of his neck.

The old name makes bile raise in his throat. Eddie didn’t mean it like that, probably, wouldn’t have said it if he’d known how much that name feels like a brand on Steves skin. Itchy and scarred. Like ‘Harrington’, like ‘Bullshit’, like something that makes people think they know him, like his body and self isn’t his own.  

Steve looks away. ’Uh, nah, I’ll stick to the classics.’ Popping the lid and taking a long gulp, going for casual, slouching against the counter.

Eddie nods like it’s no big deal. ‘I won’t make this awkward by asking you about college. I know you know I’ve seen you at family video.’ 

‘Your late back on ‘Poltergeist’.’ Steve says without thinking. Winces, why is he acting like such a loser? ‘But uh, yeah. Thanks.’ He finishes lamely. No way any colleges wanted him on his concussion grades and zero extra curricular credits. 

‘Shit, so you do actually do your job.’ Eddie shakes his head, like Steve had deeply wounded him, sarcastic and mocking, pretty little glint in his eye. But it still makes some ugly, desperate little part of Steve rear up and want to take it back, beg for forgiveness. 

Steve drowns that thought and chugs the rest of his beer. 

Someone must motion something to Eddie from one of the other rooms because he nods his head up in understanding. But before he goes he leans in closer to Steve, smirking. ‘Oh, and, don’t thank me yet. I also saw you in that sailor get up at the mall.’ 

Steve chokes on his spit, coughing and spluttering like an idiot.

‘Thanks for the beer.’ Eddie says, patting him once on the shoulder before hopping off the counter and into the throws of the party.

Steve watches him go, skin of his shoulder tingling through his sweater. He feels an itch, like he’s being watched and turns his head to find robin staring at him from where she’s still by the door, talking to friends. Her smile wicked. 

Robins parting words from the car float back through his mind and make his stomach twist. ‘Lucky for you, Eddie makes goo good eyes right back.’ She’d said, quiet and teasing, and Steve hates her. her hates her. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

10:54 January 3rd: Staircase

It’s a little quieter at the front of the house.

It had been going pretty well and then someone mentioned Starcourt. A couple pairs of eyes flashed to him in recognition. Someone murmuring to another,  mentioning Hop. And then Steves eyes were prickling and his wrists were tingling and he had to excuse himself. Squeezing Robins shoulder for her not to follow. Just a minute alone to breath. Sip his drink to get the copper to wash from his lips. Get his teeth back where they’re supposed to be.  

Orange streetlights filter through the window of the front door. It catches the dust, makes it sparkle. 

He thinks about midnight mass with his parents, their one Christmas plan that he’s not allowed to get out of. Thinks about how the light filtered through the stained glass, made patches of the floor look red. Thought about the ceiling of Starcourt, the taste of red metal on his tongue as the world spun. 

Went up for communion and crossed himself. Looked up at the crucifix. Thought about how the gash that opened in Joyce’s living room was red. How somethings grow in darkness, in cracks and out of sinew. A nail bat ripping through skin. 

He looks at the drink Robin made him as a joke, its almost wine coloured, a murky, deep red. It makes Steves insides twist, she didn’t mean it, she didn’t. But blood of the lamb is making the back of his eyelids flash red and brown, flash lightning and ash floating through the air. His nose filled with mould. 

‘Yeesh what is that Harrington?’ Steve looks up, Eddie’s blocking some of the orange light, head haloed and face in shadow. 

Steve looks back into the cup, seeing it for what it is again. Remembering how her face lit up with laughter as she dumped in whatever she could find, knowing it would be awful but knowing Steve would still drink it. She made it for him, how could he not? 

He looks back up at Eddie, Steve can smell his cologne. It smells good. ‘Don’t ask, Robin made it.’ He waves his hand and tries to clear his head of red and black. The spirits mix with the beer and now his hands and feet tingle, he focuses on that, it’s nice.

Eddie eyes it warily. ’You wanna trade?’ and he holds up a beer, a different brand that the ones Steve brought, he has two, for some reason. 

Steve looks into his cup, ‘Its honestly not that bad.’ He swirls the contents around a little, there’s something floating in it. 

‘Seriously?’ Eddie asks. Steve looks up at him and his eyebrows have disappeared behind his bangs 

Steve smiles, his lips tingling. ‘No.’ and his smile grows at Eddie laugh, he has dimples.

He looks at Eddie and decides, then, to take. See what he gets given. He can confess later.

The alcohol made a couple of the awkward conversations he had tonight bearable and the couple less awkward conversations he had enjoyable. Maybe it’ll do the same for him now. Steve takes the beer and places his other drink carefully on the stair behind where he’s sitting, makes a mental note to dump it out when he moves. 

He shifts, sitting in a way he hopes looks casual, like he wasn’t just thinking about divine sacrifice. The staircase it wide and the carpet is soft, a nice place to take a break. A nice place to talk to a boy. A boy who makes his heart beat in his throat. Steve can confess later. 

‘You run Hellfire right?’ He asks, sipping his beer and cataloguing again how the orange light shines on eddies hair, over his shoulder. 

Eddie faces him fully, bobbing his head slightly to the music, Steve doesn’t recognise the song, he doesn’t think its one they play on the radio. ‘Yeah?’ 

‘Yeah. like X-men’ Steve says.  

Eddie blinks at him, but then the corners of his mouth curl and his eyelids droop and Steve feels too hot suddenly. ’Okay, I’m gonna need his majesty to explain how he knows about either of those.’ 

Swallowing, Steve goes for honest. ’Well first off you used to put new posters up every, like, two weeks man, kinda hard to ignore.’ Steve says, lifting up a finger. he paid attention, eddies doesn't need to know yet how much. But Steve paid attention. 

Eddie stays silent, looks at him, eyes roaming over his face, lip still curled. Steve feels his adams apple bob. 

‘Second, I babysit some of the dweebs who are current members.’ Steve lifts a second finger, takes another sip of beer. ‘And three, X-men is like super popular. And, like, super good.’ And Steve takes another drink, just because, just to help him be. 

Eddies lips curl into a full smile, all teeth and a little tongue. He sips his own beer, looking away from Steve then back at him a couple times, like he thinks he’ll vanish, change before his very eyes. He shakes his head. ‘What changed with you man? I never expected any of that to ever come out of your mouth, like, ever.’ And eddies sounds kind of delighted, voice musical and tinkling. 

Steve just shrugs, feels hot, Eddies voice too close to happy, words too close to praise. ‘Grew up a little, I guess.’ He crosses his arms, looks down at his shoes. 

‘Yeah? That why no more parties?’ and Eddies voice is soft, Steve can feel his body heat, his knee by eddies hip. 

‘I’m just not so big on, that much attention any more. That much noise.’ Steve says, looking back into Eddies face. Finds him staring, lips quirked in a little smile, softer, then before. Leaning his chin in his hands on the banister, leaning into Steves space.

‘So, you and Buckley, what’s that about?’ Eddies whispering now, like he knows it’s precious. The orange light kisses his cheek.

Steve clears his throat, whispers back. ’Summer job. We scooped ice cream and she, uh, scooped up my heart.’ he smiles, just from talking about her, thinking about them. 

‘Oh.’ Eddie says, drawing away just slightly, eyes hardening in a way Steve hates. 

He almost reaches out, something drastic, desperate. But he pulls back, fiddles with the tab on his can. ‘No, um. Not that kind of oh. I mean in, like, a friend way. Totally platonic oh.’ 

‘Right’ Eddie comes back, but it’s not quite the same, the moment lost. Steve feels a rosary between his knuckles. 

‘Seriously, platonic soulmates. It’s a thing.’ He tries to lighten, tries to make Eddie read his mind the way robin does. It takes a moment, but then Eddie lets his eyes drink in Steves face again. His smile unfurling, sweet and pretty and different than before. He nods once, taking a drink. Looking away, cheekbones flushed pink. 

Steve can confess later. 

Robin comes barrelling down the hall calling out for Steve. But she skids to a halt when she sees Eddie. Then her eyes find Steve and she looks at him with raised eyebrows and barely contained glee bubbling under its surface. ‘Munson.’ She greets, eyes staying on Steve. ‘You’re late back on ‘Poltergeist.’

Eddie laughs, big and delighted. ‘Hey Buckley.’ He says. ‘Looking for your boy?’ but as he said that he’s gone back to the same position, still leaning on his hands, still looking right at Steve. 

Steve feels his cheeks heat. 

‘Ugh, not my boy. You are definitely not getting out your late fee for that.’ And she shoves him out of the way to get to Steve and grab his hand. ‘They want me to play beer pong, you’re on my team.’ And she’s pulling him up and away. 

Steve cranes his neck back to give Eddie a little wave goodbye but he’s pushing off the banister, he’s following. 

He walks slow, lazy, almost sauntering. Looking right at Steve still, with that little smirk. He knows. He knows. Steve feels the eucharist on his tongue. ‘What?’ Eddie asks, innocent but his smile isn’t. ‘I wanna watch.’ And Steve just squeezes Robins hand tighter, lets her pull him into the kitchen. 

11:45 January 3rd: Kitchen

People cheer as Steve neatly sinks the ping pong ball into the final cup, Robin nearly jumping onto his back she’s so exited. The first couple games with Robin and some of her random band friends really weren't great, he drank a few times, helped Robin get through her shares, they barely won. But by the third game he basically played alone and won pretty easily. The crowd seem entertained, cheering for him and random people kept patting him on the shoulder. it’s weird, a little stale on his skin to be congratulated like that, over something like this again. But he’ll be that guy again for one night, if just to make Robin smile. 

He downs a cup someone offers him in celebration. Accepting a couple high fives from Robins band friends. Tries to not be weird, to not show how the praise makes him itch. 

Steve lifts his wrist up to wipe at his mouth. His eyes drawn to the far side of the room. Eddie is leaning against the wall, black jacket against stark white. He claps slowly once, twice, his eyes shining with something. Like Steve is something funny, something interesting. 

Steve’s hands and feet tingle, his lips a little numb. Feels warm. Doesn't think about churches or blood or monsters. Just lifts his eyebrows, sucks some of the sticky beer from the pad of his thumb, and winks. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and rolls off the wall, disappearing into another room. 

But Steve saw his smile. 

˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆｡‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊

part 2 | ao3

written for Lex’s Spicy Six Winter Challenge! run by @thefreakandthehair and using the prompt: 'spiked eggnog'. ty for putting this on always!! sorry im posting on the last day again lol xoxo

title from 'stick season' by noah kahan (edited slightly to fit better)

@pearynice and @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx ty for the kind words and guidance getting me unstuck with this fic <3 its alive now

lmk if you would like a tag for part two :)

[kingofpopmj]

you could do a story with Michael Jackson where he is married to Y/N just to please the media and he doesn't really love her that much. However, he respects her even though he gives her a few arrows with nasty words, making her disappointed. Also, if possible, at some point in the bedroom while Y/N is sleeping, Michael appears slightly nervous and when he sees her, he starts kissing her because he misses her touches.... and... maybe a passionate ending smut????please…. thank u😩😙💓

~This is my first smut imagine, so don’t be too hard on me.🙈 I hope you enjoy it! Michael is spicy in this one so read at your own risk. Thank you to the hunni that requested this!

I'll Change The Rules For You

*Michael’s POV*

The heaviness in my heart grew unbearable as I unlocked the front door. The shine of my wedding ring ever so bright as I slowly pushed the door open. I quietly entered the house. It was spotless. The house filled with the smell of a homemade meal. My favorite meal. The distant sound of Y/N humming made me feel everything and nothing all at once. She was- she’s fine. I’m fine. We’re fine.

I stood in the doorway unable to shut the door behind me just yet. I wanted to be home. It’s just home doesn’t feel much like home lately. I let out a deep sigh before closing the door. There’s no running. I can’t run away. Making my way to the kitchen with small steps I’m greeted with Y/N’s backside. She was bent over putting something in the oven. A normal husband would happily announce his arrival or greet his wife with a kiss, but me- I have no idea what to do.

“Oh my goodness!” Y/N jumped when she finally turned around. “You scared me.”

“I do live here.” I scoffed.

“Of course you live here. I just wasn’t sure what time you’d be home.” She smiled hopefully. “I’m happy to see you.” She moved towards me wrapping her arms around me. When I didn’t reciprocate the gesture her arms fell to her sides. The look of defeat plastered across her face.

“I’m gonna go take care of some things.”

“Wait.” She gently held my arm stopping my abrupt exit. “I made dinner. I thought we could eat together. Maybe have a movie night?” Again, she smiled. It was full of love and optimism. I couldn’t stand the feeling in my chest, but still I held my ground.

“I’ll pass.”

“I don’t understand why you’re being this way.” It came out as a whisper, but I heard it. I heard her sadness. I felt her despair.

“You don’t understand a lot.” I snapped.

“We used to be friends.” She looked up at me with watery eyes and in that moment I hated myself.

“We are what we are. That’s it.”

“What are we?”

“We are legally bound to one another.” I said with a shrug. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t.

“You make it sound so-“

“I make it sound like what it is!” Y/N jumped back at my sudden outburst. She looked terrified- terrified of me.

“Why do you have to be so mean?” Her voice laced with pain. “You asked me to do this for you and I did because you promised me nothing would change.”

“I’m not being mean! It’s not my fault you’re a dimwit that can’t understand simple concepts! You keep acting like this perfect little housewife. It’s too much! You are too much! We did this to get the world off my back, yet somehow you’ve managed to screw that up! It’s exhausting being your husband- your fake husband!”

“I gave up my whole life because my friend asked me- no begged me to help him. I couldn’t be anything else but Michael Jackson’s wife. You knew that. I had to abandon my family, my friends, my job. Everything. I know this isn’t real, I know we aren’t real, but I still thought you were worth it. I tried to make this strange situation as comfortable as possible, but you are determined to hurt me. To break me.”

“Y/N-” I stopped when she put her hand up shaking her head slowly. She untied the apron from around her waist placing it on the counter.

“Dinner is on the table. I made the cake you like. It’s in the oven- just take it out when the timer goes off.” She spoke softly before leaving the kitchen forcing me to watch her walk away- walk away from me. It seemed inevitable.

She doesn’t deserve this.

I don’t deserve her.

I took my seat at the table unable to eat anything. After how I treated Y/N, I deserved the loss of appetite and more. I stared at the spread in front of me, which only made me feel worse. She did so much for me. She does so much for me. The kitchen timer went off reminding me of the cake in the oven. I walked over to take it out. She really did all of this for me. She’s the best person in my life. The only one I can truly trust and I’m going to lose her.

Two hours have gone by since Y/N left. I knew she fell apart after how I spoke to her. She felt safe in our bedroom, so I knew that were she was. I desperately wanted to see her- hold her- be with her. I knew the shame would become insufferable the moment I looked into her eyes. Even with that understanding, I couldn’t stay away from her. The effect she has on me is something I don’t think I’ll ever fully comprehend.

Another forty-five minutes went by before I mustered up the courage to leave the kitchen. I found myself struggling to proceed when I reached the bottom of the staircase. I need to make this right. I need to fix this. I need Y/N.

As I reached to top of the staircase I see the bedroom door is closed, but as I twisted the knob I was thankful it wasn’t locked. My eyes scanned the room unable to find Y/N. The bed was made without a crease in sight. The only source of light illuminating from the bathroom. I rushed over hoping to find her braiding her hair in front of the mirror or massaging her face with that lotion she loved so much. It smelled like peonies, her favorite flower. The more time that passed without any trace of Y/N the more empty I felt. I was starting to feel worried, but mostly confused.

The closet was the last place to check. Nothing could prepare me for how broken I’d feel once I pushed that door open. The hangers were empty on Y/N’s side of the closet. Her suitcases littered the floor half full of her belongings. She was curled up into a ball on the tiny couch I got her for our first anniversary. It’s from France. She fell in love with the soft velvet fabric and I knew I had to surprise her with it. I still remember the smile on her face. She was so touched. She was so happy. Ironic, how easily- how quickly I tarnished that happiness. When I realized she was asleep I moved closer. Her tear stained cheeks broke my heart further. The pain in my chest growing by the second.

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered kneeling down to leave a gentle kiss on her forehead. Unable to take my eyes off of her I gently took her hand in mine- her left hand. I admired the ring on her finger remembering the proposal, the smile on her face, the joy that filled my heart and the love between us. “I’m so sorry.” I whispered again leaving kisses on her hand.

“Y/N?” I said softly trying to wake her up without scaring her. Her eyes remained shut as she instinctively snuggled into my hand that rested against her cheek. I couldn’t help myself. I cupped her face in my hands as I left tender kisses all over face.

“Michael?” Y/N sat up looking at me bewildered.

“I’m so sorry.” She avoided looking into my eyes. “Please don’t leave me. I’m so sorry.”

“You act like you hate me.” She murmured staring down at our entangled hands.

“I don’t.” I began kissing her hand slowly traveling up her arm, shoulder and neck.

“Michael.” Y/N pulled away finally meeting my eyes. “You can’t bombard me with kisses and think that erases all the bad.”

“I know. I know. Y/N, I love you.”

“You can’t just say that and not mean it or act like it.”

“When I asked you to marry me as a favor I didn’t necessarily think it through.”

“What do you mean?”

“We loved each other as friends. I thought it would stay that way. It didn’t. Not for me. You promised me five years of marriage. On our third anniversary, I asked you for an extra five more and you obliged. You agreed to ten whole years as my wife.”

“I knew it would help you, so of course I said yes.”

“We’re just about to hit the five year mark and the thought of eventually having to let you go terrifies me. I asked for five more years because I don’t want to be without you.” I leaned in before she could respond and kissed her. I kissed her like I meant it. I kissed her like how I’ve been desperately wanting to for so long. Desperately, I pulled her to sit on top of me guiding her hips as I brought her down to my lap.

“What about the rules? No sex.”

“Those were impossible rules to follow. An idiot created those rules.” I say brushing her hair behind her shoulder and sinking my face into her neck. Her perfume filled my nostrils and I mentally kicked myself for denying myself of this pleasure sooner.

“Calling yourself an idiot there rule maker?” She questioned rolling her eyes and giggling. Oh, that sound. I love that sound.

“I think I deserve it, don’t you?” She shrugged in response. I pulled her closer, so close her body moulded to mine. “You’re my wife. I want to do this the right way. I want to do it all with you. I want this to be real.”

“Real?”

“I don’t want to push you away anymore. I want to bury myself in you.” I whispered in her ear as she took a deep breath. “Let me bury myself inside of you.” I purred against her sweet lips. My hands slowly traveled from her hips to her waist taking in every curve. I dragged my fingers just below her breasts to unbutton her shirt. I slid it down her arms leaving trails of goosebumps on her skin. I knew by the uneven rise and fall of her beautiful chest she wanted me just as badly.

“Please.” She said breathlessly tearing my shirt off and throwing it across the room.

Y/N’s head fell back as I kissed her neck, sucking down on the sensitive skin. Her fingers laced in between the strands of my hair as she kept me close. She rolled her hips against mine painfully slow as she met my gaze. The look in her eyes was more than enough to send me over the edge. She continued and I was could feel myself lose control. Y/N stopped without warning sensing my predicament. I held her hips with such force I’m certain she’d be covered with bruises. I want her. I need her to move- to move faster, but she refused to give me what I wanted. She was going to make me beg- and I would- I will. A seductive smirk covered her face. She enjoyed teasing me.

“I need you.” I panted trying to compose myself.

“I know.” She whispered in my ear unaware of just how much I worshipped her. She left wet kisses down my neck and chest as she pushed me until my back met the rug. I gawked at her unable to form any words. Unable to do anything but follow her every move.

She made me so weak.

I watched as she unzipped my pants sliding them down my legs.

She looked deep into my eyes as she removed my boxers.

I was so lost in her eyes that being completely naked in front of her didn’t register. The only thing on my mind was her.

The immense feeling of emptiness took over me as Y/N stood letting her panties fall to the ground.

I extended my arms folding them behind my head as I admired the view. She smiled bashfully before returning to her place- on top of me. Oh how I loved this view.

I reached out touching her anywhere-everywhere. I never thought anything would feel so good. Look so good. Taste so good.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, holding onto my shoulders lowering herself onto me.

I could feel everything.

I love the way she feels. I never want to go without her again. I’m hooked.

Her warmth tightened around me as she took me in deeper. Her eyes squeezed shut adjusting to me. The sound of my name falling from her lips only fueled my neediness.

My eyes rolling back at the sensation of her. I’ve missed out on this for too long. I glanced down at our connected bodies before quickly flipping us over. I settled in between her legs. I needed to be on top of her. I needed more. My hand traveled up her outer thighs and I took the opportunity to wrap her legs around me.

“You feel so- so good.” I lowered myself to meet her lips once again as I began to thrust into her. She interlocked her ankles behind my back pulling me in deeper each time.

“Faster!” Her voice was full of lust and it drove me wild. “Michael! Please!”

“Y/N!”

The room filled with the overwhelming sound of us satisfying one another. She brought something out in me I couldn’t explain. I licked and sucked on every part of her glorious body. Each moment better than the last.

She kissed me like I’ve never been kissed before. Her lips so soft. Her tongue so sweet. Kissing her came natural to me. Kissing her made me feel alive. Kissing her was like breathing. I needed it to live. I needed her to live.

“I’m going to-“ I felt myself release inside of her. The sting of Y/N’s fingernails dragging down the length of my back adding to my pleasure. We were both panting, but insistent on staying connected. Insistent on burying myself inside of her over and over again.

“Please!” Her lustful cries echoed off the walls as she clenched around me. Watching her come undone made me want to do this- do her all night- every night.

“Michael!” I collapsed on top of her resting my head on her voluminous chest.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” She began laughing uncontrollably. I looked up at her seeing a genuine smile gracing her face.

“What is it?”

“I can’t believe we just did that.” She sheepishly covered her face and I immediately pulled her hands into mine. Forcing her to look at me.

“I wish we had done it sooner.” I smiled kissing her deeply.

“The floor was fun.. Can we maybe try a couch or a mattress next time?”

“Next time?” I moved sliding my arms under her neck and legs lifting her up and walking out of the closet into our bedroom. I laid her on the bed gently spreading her legs with the tips of my fingers. “Who said I was done with you?” I chuckled leaning down kissing her inner thighs.

“Michael! Oh my-”

“Relax, I’ve got you baby.”

[callalillywrites]

I Fell in Love But You Didn’t

This is an older story. It didn't need much in the way of editing, but I hated the title it originally had. So, it's back again with a new title and one that I think works better.

Pairing: Ex!Steve Rogers x Ex!Reader (female)

Word Count: ~700

Summary: Steve is returning the Infinity Stones. You know you won't be seeing him again.

Warning: bittersweet ending; breakup; light angst

A/N: This is the other piece I wrote based on the song, You Didn't by Brett Young. It's a great but sad song that I can't recommend highly enough.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

****

Steve was leaving.

You could feel it in your bones.

He stood near the platform Bruce had quickly assembled after Tony’s funeral. The Stones packed neatly and carefully in the briefcase Steve held. He’d just hugged Bucky. An inner joke shared between them.

Then, Steve stepped back, swiveling on his heels.

The distance between you had never felt longer though he covered it in a few steps.

A watery smile graced your features as you looked upon the man you loved for the last time.

“Hey, I’ll be back soon,” Steve said, the promise falling flat. His gaze never quite reached yours as he said the words. It confirmed the truth you’d known was a long time in coming.

You shook your head. “No, you’re not, and it’s okay, Steve.”

“But –”

“Steve, I love you. I think I’ve loved you since we met in New York six years ago,” you paused to gather yourself and retain what composure you had left, “but I’m not where you belong. I never was.”

“Angel, I…” Steve let the words die.

You could tell he wanted to lie to you. To tell you everything you wanted to hear.

A week ago, you would’ve wanted to hear the lies. You would’ve wanted to cling to him and believe them. But it wasn’t meant to be. It never was. His heart has and will always belong to Peggy Carter.

Before he could try and regroup, you pressed a hand to his mouth. “Please, I don’t want or need you to lie to me, Steve. This isn’t your fault, and I don’t need you to make this better. You didn’t do anything wrong. I won’t have you thinking you have.”

This time, you paused to swallow the emotion clogging your throat. It took you another minute to collect yourself and give him a genuine smile.

“Go and get your girl, Cap. She’s waiting for you. I just know it.”

You rose on your tiptoes one last time. With a soft kiss to his cheek, you whispered, “Be happy, Steve. You deserve everything this world has ever offered and taken from you. You’ve settled and compromised since you came out of the ice. It’s time for you to be a little bit selfish, even if that means you’re not mine.”

Steve stared at you for several moments, his eyes growing misty at your words.

Before you could step back, he’d set the briefcase down and grabbed you. His arms wrapped tightly around you while his cheek nuzzled against yours.

He didn’t say anything at first, but he finally whispered, “I really hope you find your one, Angel. You are not someone’s compromise or someone who should be settled for. I do love you, and I always will.”

A single tear streaked down your cheek. “I know. Maybe saying goodbye won’t be a bad thing. At least that’s what I’m hoping.”

His arms tightened around you, impossibly tight, then he slowly released you.

When he picked up the briefcase again, he tapped your chin like he was prone to do all the years you’ve known him. In the same soft voice, he said, “Don’t hate me too much, please.”

“I could never hate you, Steve. No matter how hard I might try to.”

With that, he turned toward the platform and suited up to return the stones to their rightful places along the timeline. He had some branches to nip before they took hold and created issues within the universe.

In a blink, he was gone.

Five seconds, Bruce had said.

Those seconds came and went without Steve’s return.

Then again, you knew they would.

He’d gone back to Peggy. Just like you knew he would.

Bruce and Sam argued on how to get him back and what to do with whatever had gone wrong.

Turning to Bucky, you nodded towards your car and asked, “Want a lift? I think there’s a bar in town, and I know I could use a drink.”

Bucky, forever a friend, fell into step beside you. After a moment, he asked, “You okay?”

You spared a glance at the platform, then met his gaze. “I will be.”

[yizhou-time]

[ 01.24 ] idol!san — angst

note: this probably isn’t that good but it made me so sad :(

“you’re leaving?” you ask from your house porch, staring at san and the other members of his group.

“y/n-”

you cut him off before he can make up an excuse. “you only just got here.” you remind your old neighbour.

yunho takes san’s suitcase out of his hand and places it into the car trunk for him.

“why are you going at such time?” you tilt your head, trying to hold in any emotions however your voice going up at the end of your question gives it all away.

“your parents aren’t at the door,” you point to his porch “did you already say goodbye?”

he remains silent still.

although you’re entirely focused on your friend you can see his now closest friend, wooyoung, tap his arm trying to get him into the car.

san tears his eyes away from you and turns around, grabbing the car door handle.

“you’re not going to say goodbye?”

silence.

“is this it for a while?”

silence.

“i’m going to have to miss you all over again.”

time stills. his heart drops and it hurts to the point where he thinks he might have to grab his chest. he then mumbles something however you don’t quite hear it.

wooyoung taps him once again, trying to urge him to get into the car.

“don’t say that.” he says, louder this time but you barely make it out.

“it’s fine, just go. i won’t hold a grudge, i didn’t before.” you just manage to say.

his friend quickly gets into the car, giving both of you a moment to address the words shared between the two of you.

san turns around and is met with the sight of you resting your wrist on the bridge of your nose, biting you lip, trying to quiet yourself down and keep your tears at bay.

if his heart can drop further, it does.

“y/n, please don’t cry.”

“no, no, it’s fine.” you hesitate. “you need to get back i shouldn’t hold you up.” you wave your hands to dismiss him and turn to go inside.

a rush of footsteps are heard behind you however you pay no mind to them but before you can reach out for the front door handle a hand reaches for your wrist and turns you around, you’re now chest to chest.

san stares back as you and you fully take him his appearance. he’s grown into his features entirely yet he’s still the same boy you fell in love with all those years ago. one with a warm smile and large heart, one you never confessed to after all the pining.

“it’s not like that.” he whispers.

you pull your hand out of his grip and rest your fist on his chest. “you never said goodbye to me,” you lightly punch him. “and for years i thought i did something wrong but i never held it against you.” another light punch connects “you came back,” another one “barely spent any time with me,” another one “and you try to leave in the middle of the night without as much as a goodbye,” you punch him one final time “again.”

“it’s not like that.” he tries to defend himself.

“then what is it like? i spent nights alone in that bed, one you used to lie with me in, wondering why you didn’t say goodbye to me. when you came back i thought you’d want things to be the same which i know is selfish be-”

he shakes his head. “it’s not selfish at all. i want that too.”

there’s a glint of hope in your eyes and it takes everything in him not to kiss you then and there.

“but we can’t have that.”

“then why talk to me again?”

“i- i don’t know.”

“that makes you selfish then, not me.”

yet another moment of silence falls between the pair of you and you step back, only slightly, although you never break eye contact.

he reaches out but you pull back. “i’m going to miss you all over again, and that’s fine. i can live with that.” you whisper. “i just felt like that 18 year old kid, waiting for a goodbye that never came, one i was promised.”

quietly you press a short kiss onto his cheek. “good night, choi san.”

you turn around and open your front door, you give him one last look, one that says goodbye, one he wishes to have never seen. you give him a chance to say something but nothing comes so instead you flash a smile and shut the door.

he stands there, still completely frozen from the short kiss. it takes him a minute or so to come back to reality and only then does he realise your gone.

he also realises that you probably won’t, and shouldn’t, be able wait for him forever because that’s cruel. he’s willing to wait for you because he always has and always will but he can’t put you through that a third time.

“i’m going to go now. i’ll see you again,” he starts hesitantly “when i’m more sure about us.” he says to your door, just loud enough for it to slip through and reach you on the other side. “i promise. i won’t let you down this time, i can’t.”

you ball your fists as you lean against the front door. he can hear the shuffling as you try to pull yourself together.

san let’s out a small ‘hm’ and nods, a habit he picked up from you when you were 100% satisfied with school work or a project.

“goodbye. i’ll miss you too, i won’t ever stop missing you. not until we’re together again.” he says quietly but, again, just loud enough for you to listen through your front door.

you put your hand over your mouth to muffle a sob however it fails when san can hear it through the door, you quickly realise when you can hear a hand be placed on a door and a mumble of your name. sliding down the door you let it all out and san can’t bring himself to leave anymore.

he stays there for minutes, his own eyes tear up and he says another i’m sorry before leaving. he can barely bring himself to walk away but he does anyway slowly, stopping every once in a while to look back at your house.

at this point yunho has gotten out the car to open the door for him but instead of getting in he holds onto yunho and sobs himself. he grips onto the back of his shirt as he hugs him while yunho only strokes his back.

what had he done? how was he going to fix it?

[oneeyedgrimes]

Beat This World.

Summary: you were inlove with Daryl. you had been for a while but you hid it telling yourself you’d tell him one day, one day too late.

Tw: major character death, angst, pinning, all that good stuff.

ELLO TUMBLR This is my first time writing here I just needed to write for my husband because if I didn’t I would COMBUST. this DEFINITELY isn’t proof read as I started this at 2 and it’s 4 now so if there’s any errors don’t be afraid to let me know, constructive criticism is always welcomed and appreciated, enjoy loves!

You had always noticed Daryl. Since the day you stumbled upon the quarry, you’d been by yourself for who knows how long and when you finally found the group, he was the first person you laid your eyes on, pointing his bow ready to shoot and end your life at anytime and the only thing you could think was how pretty his eyes were in the sunlight.

From then on you found yourself trying to get to know him more, sitting next to him when the group would cook the squirrels he found, trying to get him to teach you how to hunt. The two of you even found yourselves up late unable to sleep and you would find eachother and just sit and look at the stars and that was all the both of you needed, you’d barely speak on nights like that you’d just soaked up each others presence.

By the time the group found Alexandria you and Daryl’s relationship was better than ever, though with the recent loss of Beth after just finding out she had been alive, watching her die infront of him Daryl had been more closed off, but you understood, ofcourse you did, so you gave him space, made yourself busy working on things around Alexandria.

But soon distance became barely seeing each other, and that only made your heart ache for him even more, you so desperately wanted your bestfriend back even if that was all it would be, even if you wanted him to yourself, even if you did want to feel the feeling of his lips on yours, you would take what you could get.

You’d finally found Daryl sitting on carol’s porch sharpening his knife, you stopped just before you came into his view and just looked at him, seeing him up close after not seeing him for so long, it felt like you’d fallen inlove with him again right there and it hurt.

“ Daryl can we talk please? I get it if you’re too busy but I really just wanted to talk to yo-“ Daryl looked up at her the slightest bit of a smirk sitting on his lips before he cut off your rambling “ hey, I ain’t ever ta’ busy for ya’ wha’s up” Daryl’s attention was fully on you and now you were nervous.

“ I miss you. I’ve barely seen you since we got here at this place and everything’s so weird and these people look at me like I’m some kind of alien and I know you’re working and doing things to keep people safe and this may be selfish of me but I miss you and I want you to be around more” Tears prickled at your eyes, whether it was from frustration or genuine sadness you didn’t know. Daryl looked up at you and and sat the knife down and brought his finger up motioning you to come towards him

“ c’mere,” You looked at him and slowly walked over to the porch sitting next to him blinking away the tears now feeling embarrassed you let your emotions get the best of you. “ why ain’t ya’ tell me ya been feelin’ like tha’ i woulda’ done som’ ‘bout it” Daryl guided your head to his shoulder, his voice a soft tune he only ever used with you. “ because i.. you were busy and I didn’t wanna bother you and I just..”

You trailed off going silent realizing you’d almost said something you’d probably regret, and Daryl just pulled you in closer wrapping his arm around you “ I’m sorry I ain’t been checkin’ on ya, I’m gon’ try an’ be around more, can’t promise nuthin’ but I’m gon’ try”. You got your friend back, and that was more than enough for you, even if your heart screamed to tell him what you really want.

It was a few weeks later, and Daryl did what he said he would, he was around a lot more and he kept you company whenever he could, and you were the happiest you could be. You were both sitting on Carol’s porch eating whatever cookies she made that day when Rick walked up to the both of you asking if you guys were up for a run with a few others from the group, you agreed and went to get ready.

As you walked inside your house you told yourself you’d tell Daryl how you felt when the two of you were back from the run, you thought of how you were going to do it as you finished putting on your boots and grabbing your bag putting a few water bottles in your bag. Daryl came and got you walking with you to the gate helping you into the car and you laughed looking at him thru the window “ thank you mister strong man” He looked at you with a straight face though you could see the tiniest smirk on his face “ stop.” He told you as he got into the car nodding to Rick as he pulled out of the gate.

Everything was going fine, they found a few cans of food and some bottles of body wash in a nearby store, you turned your back for just two seconds, you saw a toy you thought Judith would like and you smiled and reached on your tippy toes to grab it, at the same time a walker turned the corner from behind the shelf and fell onto you knocking you down to the floor, you reached for your knife but couldn’t reach it, atleast not before the walker sunk its teeth into the side of your hip causing you to let out a scream as you finally got your knife out of the holster plunging it into the back of the walkers head pushing it off of you as Daryl came running to you.

“ wha’ tha’ hell happened “ Daryl kneeled infront of you he saw the walked beside you and looked back at you all the confusion on his face gone “ you ain’t bit are ya’?” He looked up at you waiting for your answer, his face falling a bit when he saw the tears building in your eyes, his face now filled with worry as he looked down seeing your hand covering your side, he gently moved your hand lifting your shirt revealing the bite “ no, no you can’t fuckin’- this ain’t fair! You can’t leave me y/n you can’t” Daryl’s voice became wobbly and his lip quivered, something you had only ever seen a few times “ I’m sorry d, it all happened so fast I couldn’t get my knife out fast enough” You looked at him squeezing your waist tighter, your own lip started to wobble. “ you know what’s funny? I was gonna tell you that I’m inlove with you after we got back from this run, was gonna take you to my house and take you up to my room, and I would let you lay in my lap and run my fingers thru my hair and tell you how I’ve been inlove with you since you held that big crossbow at me” you laughed regretting it after as you started to cough harshly, Daryl just stared at you his eyes wide in shock “ I’ve loved ya for a while y/n a good long while too. Wasted all dis’ time when we coulda’ been ta’gether”You smiled finally letting the tears fall

“ we would’ve been a match made in hell dixon, will you be okay?” You ask him holding his face in your hand that wasn’t covered in blood “ Hell no, I don’ know how i’ma go on without’ ya. “ “ you’re strong I know you are, you’re gonna live for me and you’re gonna be okay I know you will I love you Daryl.” “ I love ya’ too girl.” “ then beat this world for me Dixon”

You smiled at him with the last bit of energy you had before your eyes shut and your movements stop completely, daryl sits there almost as still as your own lifeless body before he pulls out his knife stabbing you in the back of the head and sits with you for a few more seconds before he stands up picking up your body laying you in the back of the car as he calls the rest of the group, and they all see it on his face, so they don’t ask. They have a makeshift funeral and Daryl dressed up in his best button down he has, and when he goes to his room and it’s late at night and it’s quiet and you’re not there to fill the room, he doesn’t cry but he whispers into the air

“I’m gonna beat this goddamn world for you .”

[aliahm]

Figuring Things Out - Crowley x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: You and Crowley talk about the confusing feelings that came up for you after going out for lunch.

Warnings: Insecurities about eating, body image issues (If I’ve left out any content warnings, please let me know).

(The moodboard above was made by me, using images found on tumblr and Google. Full credit for the images goes to the owners. Credit for the divider goes to firefly graphics, here on tumblr).

“What’s happened?”

Crowley had noticed the shift in your mood from the second you came home. You were talking, but only if he talked first, and you hadn’t looked him in the eye since you stepped into the house.

“What?” You asked, still looking straight ahead at the TV. “Nothing, I’m fine”.

“Something’s off, it wasn’t before. You can tell me”.

You didn’t say anything. Even if you tried, you didn’t think you’d know where to begin.

He snapped his fingers and suddenly the screen in front of you was blank, not that it mattered. You hadn’t been paying attention to whatever was playing in the first place.

Finally you turned to face him, and he said nothing, waiting patiently for you to say whatever you needed to say.

Another few moments passed as you tried to find words that fit whatever this was that you were feeling. Eventually you came up with:

“I just- don’t feel very good right now”.

“Not good how, love? Sick?”

“No, just- gross”.

Crowley frowned. He didn’t like hearing you say that about yourself, and it confused him. There was nothing gross about you.

“Gross? Did something happen at lunch? Did somebody upset you?”

He was beginning to worry, and that protective instinct of his kicked in immediately.

“I guess I did.” you answered with a shrug, as if feigning indifference would get rid of everything else you were feeling.

“You did? All you did was go out to eat, love”.

“I know.” You replied, your voice empty.

Crowley paused and thought over your words for a few moments. You fought the urge to look away from him, but you did. It was just too much.

Finally he asked, “Is that what’s bothering you? Going to lunch made you feel bad?”

“Not going to lunch, just…”

“Eating?”

You didn’t say yes, you didn’t even nod. You couldn’t admit it, verbally or otherwise. Instead you said:

“and it’s never happened before- I- I don’t-“

Your voice broke and trembled as you tried to push your way to the end of a sentence you didn’t know how to finish.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Crowley placed his finger beneath your chin and tilted your head towards him, “breathe”.

You took a shaky breath and closed your eyes for a moment, before meeting his eyes once again.

“I don’t know what’s going on.” you told him, and the sadness in your eyes sent a sharp pain right through his chest.

“Listen to me. Whatever this is, you can figure it out, I promise. We can figure it out”.

You hid your face in his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I feel so stupid.” you muttered.

“You aren’t stupid, and you aren’t gross either”.

“It’s just one thing after another with me, isn’t it?” You laughed bitterly. “Why can’t I catch a break?”

“We agreed to be honest with each other, that’s all you’re doing.” he reassured you, “That’s a good thing”.

“I don’t know what to do, or think”.

He held you without saying anything for a bit, then he replied, “Maybe take some time and see how you feel, then we’ll go from there.”

You nodded against his shoulder, and he pulled you away from him slightly, so you could look at each other again, then he told you:

“I want you to promise me you won’t try to struggle through it by yourself if things continue this way, alright?”

“I…”

“Baby, I know you’re scared right now, but I need you to be brave, for me, and most of all, for yourself”.

You hesitated, deep in thought, then eventually you nodded again.

“Say it.” he encouraged you.

“I promise, that I won’t keep secrets from you, and I’ll tell you if I need help”.

“Good,” he kissed your forehead. “I’m already proud of you”.

[beaconfeels]

@like-lazarus kindly tagged me in a “Messy Draft Monday” and even though I’ve been too stressed to be actively working on anything right now, I wanted to share something. So have a little bit of one of the random steter stories floating around in my brain:

Peter finishes loading the last bag into his car and leans against the trunk for a minute. Overall, he feels satisfied. His revenge is complete, plus he’s an alpha, which is a nice little perk.

It’s a little galling to have to leave the Hale territory instead of ruling it, but if he stays here his nephew and that merry little band of budding psychopaths will kill him eventually. He’s lucky, but he’s not that lucky.

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps catches his ear first, then a quick heartbeat. He knows that heartbeat. He memorized that heartbeat one night that seems so long ago, but really wasn’t that long ago at all.

He turns around.

“Stiles,” he says, low, dangerous. Because he likes Stiles, but Stiles is most likely to come up with a murder plot that will actually work, so he’s not to be trifled with.

The boy pulls up short, staying well back from Peter. He’s breathing hard, and those pretty pink lips are parted, his cheeks flushed. He really is very lovely, Peter thinks.

Stiles has a large duffle bag weighing down one shoulder, his grip on it white-knuckled. “Take me with you,” he says.

Peter blinks. He thought he was beyond being surprised.

“You want me, right?” Stiles goes on. “You wanted to turn me. I can’t let you bite me, but I can be pack. Just take me with you. Let me stay with you and I’ll be pack. I’ll cook too, and clean.”

“Can’t let me bite you?” Peter asks. It’s not the only question he has, but it’s the one that sticks out the most in what Stiles has just laid on him.

“I don’t think so. Maybe? But right now it’s a no.” He bites his lip, taps his fingers on his leg. “Yeah. Definitely a no right now. Maybe forever. But humans can be pack, right?”

Peter doesn’t know why he’s even still standing here. Of course he’s not going to take Stiles with him. “You don’t even know where I’m going,” he says instead of what he should be saying, which is obviously no. It’s definitely not happening.

“I don’t fucking care,” Stiles says, and he sounds suddenly weary. “As long as it’s not here, I’m cool.”

Peter tilts his head. Stiles is such a mix of scents it’s always been hard to get a read on him, but Peter has noticed the anguish that radiates off the boy in waves. It’s a layer that runs under everything else— a steady, overwhelming sadness. “And what would your father have to say about that?” He still doesn’t know why he’s even engaging in it, why he’s giving the boy any hope.

Stiles snorts. “I left him a note that he’ll find whenever he finally realizes I’m gone. He won’t come after me.” He looks down and to the side, his hand clenching into a fist.

“Listen,” Stiles says, and he raises those big brown eyes to look right at Peter, “I can’t stay here anymore. Please. Just please, take me with you. I know I can’t promise not to be any trouble, you’d never believe that, but I can be useful. I can be good for you. I can be pack.”

He’s desperate, and that shouldn’t matter. If it were anyone else it wouldn’t matter, but this is Stiles. Stiles is unusual. He’s interesting. Now that he’s had his revenge, Peter is at a bit of a loose end. Not without plans, never without plans, but the future already looks a little boring. Stiles is many things, but boring isn’t one of them.

Plus, Stiles is the Sheriff’s son, and absconding with the son of the sheriff sounds like a delightfully mischievous, if misguided, end to his run in Beacon Hills. “Alright, you can come along.”

[noemitenshi]

You're not really my type~

A Daniel Sharman x OC fic (more or less written for kinktober)

Summary: After a chance meeting (two, actually), Daniel becomes interested in Ally – from the looks of it a sweet and thoughful girl, though not afraid to go after what she wants, even if it may offend. However, she may be more than he bargained for.

Author’s note: I, unfortunately, don’t have the bandwidth to truly participate in kinktober this year (since I’ve got about a billion other projects to juggle (and yes, this is me still starting something new, shut up)). But since this kinky idead popped into my head not too long ago I thought it would be fun to try and get as much of it done in October, as a kind of ‘kinktober adjacent’ work. Rpf isn’t normally my cup of tea… but I guess this is a case of never say never. Can’t promise that every entry will be as detailed as this one, I had originally just planned on doing a summary type post with maybe some more detailed scenes slotted in here and there… we’ll see.

Chapter 1

Ally watched her sister’s drawn, miserable expression unhappily. Her and Bob had just broken up – Ally had known it was coming. In fact, everyone had known except for Liz herself. And though Ally was glad to see him finally go (in her opinion he was a selfish, childish man not above taking advantage of her sister’s good (though sometimes naive) heart. The very heart he’d broken in the process – and that thought made Ally simultaneously angry and sad.

Therefore she’d invited Liz along, into her favorite café, hoping that being outside, listening to Ally’s work tales would …well maybe not cheer her up but at least stop her thinking about Bob for a hot second. And Ally had really tried everything to take Liz’s mind of what was tormenting her. And so far she’d failed spectacularly on all fronts.

Liz hadn’t even touched her hot chocolate, her favorite drink. Ally was at her wit’s end. She tried to remember another funny story she could share so that Liz could stop thinking about stupid Bob for a moment – but she’d already shared her best ones (and honestly, the thing she really wanted to do was put all her frustration that had been piling up for months about Bob into words but just now wasn’t the time for it...)

The silence stretched between them almost uncomfortably long. Then her sister’s face transformed, her drawn eyebrows relaxing, her head lifted… She’d seen something that had caught her focus. Oh god, please don’t let it be Bob, appearing all of a sudden in that café!

Trepidatiously Ally followed her sister’s gaze… and breathed a sigh of relief. No sign of that asshole after all!

But then… what had captured Liz’s attention like that. Or should she say who? There was a guy standing at the counter, trying to decide what coffee to get, from the looks of it. Slender and tall, slight curly, dark hair… She stared for a moment, the uncanny feeling that she’d seen him before suddenly coming over her.

A quick glance back at Liz’s face told her her sister was enthralled. And slowly it dawned on Ally who that was.

“Isn’t that… that actor you like so much?”

“Ssh!” Her sister shushed her without sparing her so much as a glance, though a slight blush colored her cheeks, “Not so loud, he’ll hear…”

Ally looked at the guy again who seemed happily oblivious to their conversation, She doubted he could hear them.

“Wanna go talk to him?” she asked, glad her sister wasn’t in that pit of despair anymore,

“What? No! That’s embarrassing…”

“Just a quick ‘hi’? You’ll be hardly the first person to approach him…”

Liz shook her head, her gaze still glued to him. Ally looked back at him, too (and yes, she could see why her sister was so into him; he was fairly attractive). It seemed he had finally decided on what to get and was in the process of paying. About to walk out in a moment and then Liz would be back to pining over Bob… Ally made a split-second decision, standing abruptly and with a decisive “come!” at her sister, she walked towards him… what was his name? David… no. Daniel. Daniel… something.

“Hi!” She greeted him with her best customer service smile, her sweetest ‘let me help you’ voice. “Are you Daniel—” unfortunately his last name still evaded her “—the actor?” Her smile didn’t lose its radiance despite her faux pax.

Daniel (if indeed that was his name) just blinked at her and she felt compelled to add as clarification, “From that werewolf show?”

“...Teen wolf?” He sounded somewhat uneasy. She didn’t let that stop her, she was a woman on a mission after all.

“Yes!” Thus clarified, she got to her request, “I’m sorry to bother you but… would you maybe consider taking a quick picture with my sister Liz”—she glanced around just to see that Liz hadn’t moved from their table, had her face buried in her hands. Typical—“Liz come over here! Liz is a big fan of yours! And she just got through a horrific breakup today. I’ve been trying to cheer her up but no luck so far. It would really mean a lot to her if you’d give her just a few moments of your time. So today won’t be the day her heart got broken but the day she met you…?”

She tried her best soulful look on him, big brown eyes gazing up into startling blue ones – while she gestured for Liz to get over here, now!)

Daniel looked at a loss for words.

“You wouldn’t want to be responsible for her having a bad day, right?” Ally added conspiratorial, an attempt to joke that fell flat judging by Daniel’s still blank look.

But then his own blinding (though also fake) smile broke out.

“Sure. Wouldn’t want that.”

Mission accomplished.

As her sister stood awkwardly besides her favorite actor (and finally, finally flashed a real smile), Ally snapped several pictures in short succession. Liz then stammered her thanks. Blushed, when Daniel told her to “forget him, yeah?” before she hurried back to their table.

“Thanks,” Ally told him, the first earnest thing she’d said to him, “You really made her day.”

A wry smile curved his lips upwards. The first earnest thing he’d given her.

*

Some days later Liz asked her sister to accopmany her to a bar. Her newfound sense of adventure probably fueled by her meeting with Daniel (a complete success thanks to Ally, even if she had been a bit pushy about it). Of course Ally agreed to go with Liz – she’d wholeheartedly agree to anything if that meant her sister got over Bob sooner.

And so she found herself sitting in a bar, nursing her drink on her own while she watched Liz dance with no less than three gentleman. Whatever helps her get over it, Ally thought benevolently.

“Hey.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw that someone had approached her table, greeting her now. She half-expected it to be some dude wanting to buy her a drink and so she turned, prepared to turn him down.

It was some dude, alright, but one she knew. The same wry smile playing on his lips as the last time she’d seen him.

“Hey!” she greeted back, in her surprise adding too much enthusiasm. Daniel gestured with his half-full drink to the empty chair besides her, asking to sit and she nodded.

“How’s your sister?” He leaned in for the question so she could better hear him over the music. That way she could see the boyish look on his face all the clearer. Oh – he expected Liz to be better after meeting him? That confidence was kinda cute (and it wasn’t like he was wrong there).

“Look for yourself.” She nodded towards the dancefloor.

“Got over him then?” Daniel said, more a statement than a question, a certain satisfaction in his tone.

“Definitely in the process of,” she countered. No, Liz wasn’t over Bob yet but tonight was a good sign.

“And what about you?” Daniel asked, “Dancing not your thing?”

She shook her head, her long curls swaying with the movement.

“No, I love dancing. But tonight I’m… the chaperone.”

“Chaperone!?” He laughed a little, making him look boyish again. For a moment she wasn’t sure if he was laughing at her.

“Making sure she doesn’t get her heart broken so soon again… what about you? All alone here?”

Oh, that sounded way more like a come-on than she’d intended.

“Uh, I wasn’t…” he started saying, his hand moving in a throwaway gesture “but, you know… pretty girls seemed to be a more enticing company than me…”

Ally’s mouth formed a little ‘oh’ of understanding.

“And you didn’t… want to join?”

“Ah, well… that is… no.” All the while he was talking his hand had gone to his chin, moving restlessly along his jaw, his cheek.

Oh. She nodded her head in understanding.

“No! I, I like girls! I do!” He was quick to assure her and she couldn’t help herself but laugh a little at him. “Just… not what I was looking for today.”

“What were you looking for?”

“A night out with friends.”

“Aw, I’m sorry—Oh! Is that why you came over here? Did you think you and I…” she gestured between them but before she had finished her question he shrugged, somewhat awkwardly and tried a grin. It seemed more embarrassed than genuine. So yes, he had thought they’d been in the same position. “Sorry to disappoint but my solitude is self-imposed,” she told him, her gaze going to Liz. He followed it and then, when she was looking at him again, he told her,

“You’re a good sister.”

He seemed to really mean it, she noted, pleased.

“Why thank you!” she beamed. That wry smile lit his face again.

“You know I…” his hand had gone to his face again and as he broke off it went over his mouth. He didn’t seem to want to say. It only made her want to know more.

“What?”

“Ah, no, I…” again he broke off, not having taken his hand off his face yet.

“What?” she asked again with more emphasis. He shook his head, dropping his hand.

“Oh, come on. Now you gotta tell me!”

“Well…” he did a helpless grin before his hand was back on his chin again. “I thought you were… quite rude the other day.” His gaze had jumped around restlessly while he talked but her sudden laughter had him look at her again.

“I was!” she agreed readily, “I know I was… but you saved the day! You truly did. Thank you.”

He watched her bemusedly and then nodded.

“I honestly wouldn’t have done it if you’d asked like that for yourself…” he told her and then after a slight hesitation he added, “Uhm, actually, I uh, I kinda expected you to still jump in and want a picture with me anyway…”

She blinked at the awkward way he looked at her before another bout of laughter burst out from her, bashful, this time. It was nice to hear him talk honestly (even though he hadn’t thought too kindly about her – or maybe because of it).

“So I made a real good first impression, huh?” she asked, still giggling.

He swayed his head.

“There… have been better once…” he said as if he was confiding some great secret to her.

“And yet, you’re still here,” she pointed out, slyly.

“And yet… I’m here. Futily trying to bond over being abandoned by those closest to us.”

She laughed again.

It continued like that, slight teasing and at some points even some flirting. He was smooth though that awkwardness she’d already seen in him glimpsed through now and again. It was fun, though and passed the time well enough.

They even discovered they had a shared passion – art. “You’ve got me at a disadvantage,” he’d said, “I don’t even know what you do.” And so she had told him about the art supply store she’d opened just months ago. How before she’d worked in a B2B and how it had sucked the life out of her. How she prefered what she did now to it even though it was harder to get by. But helping her customers realize their visions, the connections she made, that really made it worth it.

That was when he had told her that he loved to paint. Confiding, it had felt like. And the conversation had remained on that subject for quite some time, his drink long empty when he finally started to say his goodbyes.

Then he hesitated for a second before asking,

“Listen. Would you… consider giving me your number?”

She looked at him, startled. Sure, they had been flirting throughout the night – but for her it had just been a way to pass the time. Nothing more.

“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling bad about it. It hadn’t been her intention to give him the wrong impression, “You’re… not really my type.” She tried for a soft tone, a regretful tone.

“How can you tell? We don’t really know one another yet.”

“Oh, I can tell.”

He was a sweet guy if somewhat awkward feeling in his skin at points (though that could be endearing, too. Was, endearing, she had to admit). Attractive, yes. She could get lost in his eyes alone, if she let herself. Honest and passionate. And definitely, 100% painfully vanilla.

“We… had fun tonight, didn’t we?” he asked carefully.

“Oh, we did.”

“Then… ” he furrowed his brows as he looked at her closely, as if he could read what the problem was on her face. “...what’s your type?” He settled on asking. It was her now that searched his expression, unsure if she should share that. But he looked so earnest. Pleading almost but not quite and so she beckoned him close, to whisper in his ear,

“My type of boy loves kneeling at my feet, thanking me when I degrade him, wanting me to treat him like nothing but a toy…”

He recoiled and stared at her with wide, wide eyes.

“Not your thing, is it?” she asked, not expecting an answer, “That’s ok. I did enjoy tonight. Thank you for keeping me company.”

He nodded, a bit lost, then shook his head.

“No that’s… my line.”

Poor guy, she might’ve frightened him more than she intended.

“Goodnight, Daniel. No hard feelings, right?”

As she watched him go, she couldn’t help herself but imagine him kneeling at her feet… what a pretty sight that would be. Alas…

[cels-not-so-secret-love-affair]

forget-me-not (mary & lily)

a/n: mary obliviates herself nearer the start of the war. don’t ask me why or how, it’s kind of timey wimey. i guess i was just thinking about the angst of not remembering…

‘So, first time client, what can I do for you?’ Mary inquires brightly, sporting her signature sunny smile as she runs her hands idly through the long locks of red hair in front of her.

‘Um. Just a trim, please. And a blow-dry,’ the redhead sat in the chair before Mary answers quietly. She’s gazing vacantly at her reflection with a lost sort of look, and the edges of her eyes are tinged slightly pink as though she’s been crying. Mary feels overwhelmingly sad for her.

‘Sure babes, that’s totally fine! Sorry, remind me of your name again?’

‘It’s Lily. Lily Evans.’

‘Okay Lily. You’re in good hands.’ Mary squeezes Lily’s shoulders in an attempt to reassure her, and meets her eyes sympathetically in the mirror. ‘How much do you reckon you’re willing to take off? A few inches?’

‘I don’t mind. Whatever you think.’

‘That’s a lot of trust, girl! Now, I don’t know what I’ve done to earn it, but I can promise you I absolutely will not fail you. Best in the biz, I am.’ She winks at Lily, but she doesn’t reply. She just looks…broken. A strange ache digs into Mary’s ribs, and she feels awfully as if she’s said the wrong thing.

‘You good to come with me to get you shampooed, Lily Evans?’ she asks quickly, eager to move on and dislodge the odd, constricting grief from her chest.

‘Yeah. Yes, thank you.’

‘Alright, hun.’

Washing Lily’s hair doesn’t present any issues. Mary does as she always does, massaging Lily’s scalp and laughing and gossiping with the others in the shop, her curls bouncing happily about her face as she moves about her station. The salon is always full of life and love, especially on Fridays. It’s one of the reasons why she loves it so much. Halfway through a regular turns up, a grumpy little old lady named Marjorie with big square glasses, and Mary waves to her cheerily as she comes grumbling in. Everything’s just as usual. Sure, Lily isn’t saying much, but some clients just aren’t that chatty, and Mary pays it no mind. She hums along absentmindedly to the songs on the radio and can almost ignore the quiet tugging that’s settled in her sternum since the beginning of the appointment.

‘Anything exciting planned for the weekend?’ Mary pipes up once they’ve returned to the chair, hoping to inspire some conversation as she expertly snips the ends of Lily’s hair with rapid precision.

‘Yeah, it’s, uh… it’s my best friend’s birthday.’

‘Oh, really? Which day?’

‘The Sunday.’

‘Oh my god, no way! That’s my birthday too. You’ll have to wish her well for me.’

‘I will, thanks. And happy birthday, in advance.’ Lily offers up a wan smile before looking away.

‘Thank you! I’ve a day off on Monday, so me and a couple of girlfriends are going out on the town to celebrate.’

‘That’s really great. I hope you have a good time, Mary.’ Mary gives a buoyant, dazzling grin by way of a reply, and Lily looks like her heart is breaking.

‘Okay, I’d say we’re just about all done! What are we thinking? Something you’d like to change?’ Lily’s tired green eyes flick to her hair and the soft curls that are now framing her face prettily. She gives a small shake of her head, but Mary gets the sense that she’s not really seeing it. She seems distracted.

‘You’re definitely happy?’

‘Yeah. It’s perfect. Just how I’ve always had it done.’

‘If you’re sure,’ Mary smiles, pulling the hairdresser’s cape from her shoulders with a soft whoosh and giving the ends of her freshly washed hair a final zhuzh. ‘Anita over there will sort out payment for you, and she can help you schedule your next appointment as well - that is, if you think I’ve done a good enough job to warrant your coming back.’

‘I’ll ring.’

‘Perfect. It was lovely to meet you, Lily. I’ll be sure to remember you for next time.’ Lily flinches at the last part, then swallows thickly.

‘Yeah, well. I’ll be going. Thank you, for… being so friendly.’ And then she’s gone, departing to speak with Anita at the desk and leaving Mary sat stewing in a distinct sense of loss.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

yes i already sent make me write but then i saw the theories and i need this with haste /j

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Damn! 168 for time loop:

Tagging @steadfastsaturnsrings

---

Eddie goes stiff. He doesn’t say anything for over a minute. Buck thinks he must be searching for excuses. Lies. A way out. If he tries it, Buck thinks he might scream. 

He doesn’t.

“Yes,” Eddie whispers eventually. 

Buck takes a deep breath. 

“Okay,” he replies shakily. He doesn’t turn to look at him.

“Buck, I’m sorry,” Eddie tugs on his shoulder. 

Well… Buck is sure Eddie is sorry Buck keeps dying. But he’s not so sure he’s sorry about the lying. 

“Why?” Buck asks. “Why make me think you and Chris were dead, too?”

“I needed you to take it seriously,” Eddie says. “Buck, I needed… You know how you get, I…”

“Needed me to do what you wanted me to do?” Buck asks, finally turning to look at him. 

“No. No. Buck, you have to believe me,” Eddie begs. “That’s not… No.”

“Do I have to believe you?” Buck asks. 

Eddie looks as though he’s been slapped. 

“Buck, please.”

Buck shakes his head. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like I’m being unreasonable.”

“You’re not. You’re not.” Eddie promises. “You just… You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I know,” Buck replies. “That’s fucking obvious.”

“Buck, nothing else is different.” Eddie insists. “It’s still the same situation. We’re still stuck here, and I don’t know why or how. I still tried everything to save you, Buck. I-I swear I tried. I-I avoided kayaking. When that didn’t work, I took you to the hospital right away. Begged them to scan your head… They thought I was crazy. You said you felt fine. I-I couldn’t explain-”

“Wait…” Buck frowns. “You know why I die?”

“Oh, uh… Sorry. Thought you figured that out, too.” Eddie mutters. “I mean, I don’t know for sure. But I’m pretty certain.”

“And?” Buck demands.

“Epidural hematoma,” Eddie says. “A brain bleed.”

“Talk and Die Syndrome,” Buck replies. “Like Natasha Richardson.”

Eddie nods.

“Fuck,” Buck says. 

“I’ve tried avoiding the injury. I’ve tried addressing the injury. I’ve tried driving us home. I’ve tried locking us in our hotel room and not moving. It doesn’t matter. You die every time.”

There’s something a little frantic in his tone. A little unsteady. 

“And you really don’t know why you’re stuck?” Buck asks.

“Why we’re stuck?” Eddie corrects.

“No, Eddie. Why you’re stuck. You and Chris.”

Eddie looks sick. “Don’t say that.”

“Why?” Buck asks. “You said it yourself. No matter what, I’m dead.”

“No,” Eddie replies. “No, because it starts over again. You’re here talking to me. You’re not dead.”

“And that’s why you won’t try? You won’t try to solve the loop?” Buck asks.

“Not without saving you,” Eddie replies. 

“Maybe that’s why the loop isn’t ending, Eddie. You won’t accept that you can’t.”

“No.” Eddie says firmly. “I won’t accept that. You’re right.”

Buck feels his eyes burning. He doesn’t want to die. He really doesn’t. Especially not now, when life is so damn good. But… But this is futile, isn’t it? This is horrible. Eddie has been torturing himself. And now… Well, now it feels like he’s torturing Buck a little, too. 

“Eddie, this can’t go on for… For eternity. It just can’t.”

“Why the hell not?” Eddie demands. “We’re in literal paradise. We’re together. It… It was happy.” 

“Eddie, I know you don’t want to lose another-”

“Stop,” Eddie begs. “Stop, Buck. It’s not that I don’t want to. I won’t. I will not lose you, after everything, to a fucking kayak rack malfunction.”

Yeah. Yeah, it is a pretty stupid way to die. After all the other things he’s survived. Like, dying in a tsunami? Expected. Not recovering from being struck by lightning? Reasonable. Dying after being blown up in a fire engine? What a story. Dying from a delayed reaction to a brain injury after being hit in the head by a kayak on a family vacation? Just sort of sad. 

Buck swallows. “I’m sorry it happened this way, Eddie.”

“It’s not over, Buck,” Eddie insists. 

“It has to be,” Buck says. “You have to get Chris out of this. He needs to grow up. He has a whole life ahead of him.”

Eddie’s eyes well up. He’s almost trembling.

“Buck, you don’t understand. “He’s happy every day. We were all finally happy. Together.”

“I know, but-”

“No, you don’t know!” Eddie snaps. “You don’t know. He’s lost his mother already. We… I… I almost lost him last summer, because I couldn’t… I’ve thought it through. You think I haven’t? We can’t lose you. We won’t… We just can’t. I can’t. He can’t.”

Fuck.

“Eddie, as long as he has you-”

“No! That has not been true. We have always needed you. He cannot lose another parent, Buck!”

Yeah, it would… It would fuck up Chris. For sure. Buck can see that. But more than Chris losing another parental figure, Buck thinks this is really about Eddie not being able to lose another spouse.