#thank you for staying and for your support :)

[falesten-iw]

Survival in Gaza is a fight for everyone and everything, not just humans. Every living thing is caught up in this nightmare, from the smallest creatures to the strongest among us. Take this little cat, for instance. She’s from Jabalia refugee camp, Al-Tarens neighborhood, house number 96, sixth street. Yeah, I know her address. She’s one of us, a Palestinian too, sitting alone in the rubble, her fur matted and dusty, with a raw, swollen eye that speaks of all she’s been through. She’s lost her hearing; explosions shake her tiny frame, but she doesn’t even react anymore. And yet, her will to survive? Unbroken.

In so many ways, she’s Gaza in a nutshell. Life here is a brutal, endless test of endurance. The genocide, the bitter cold, the soaring prices that turn basic needs like food, shelter, medicine into unattainable luxuries. These are things my family and countless others can only dream of.

For families in Gaza, survival itself has become a privilege. Nonprofits that once helped have pulled out, forced away by the very forces that keep us oppressed. And the few who stayed? Acting as middlemen, diverting the aid that’s supposed to be for us. Some prioritize their own networks in distributing aid; others resell what little is sent. Some even claim that half of donations get eaten up by "logistics costs." And then there’s aid that supposedly just "never arrives." So, families like mine are left to fend for ourselves, stripped of even the basic dignity that comes with having our needs met.

I look at this little cat, and I’m struck by the fragility of life here. My family’s hanging by a thread, surviving day to day in a world that seems indifferent to everything we’re going through. And yet, like her, we just keep going. Not because we’re strong or resilient, but because, honestly, what other choice do we have?

If this hits home for you, if this little cat’s fight feels like something you understand, please consider helping. Every donation, no matter the amount, goes directly to where it’s needed most. It can mean a bit of warmth, a moment of safety, maybe even a sliver of hope in these times that feel darker than anything.

From a heart that’s been broken too many times, thank you for standing with us.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead.

Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 250 SEK is equivalent to 25 dollars, and 506 SEK equals 50 dollars and so on.

Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link

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[suad-khaled]

I’m reaching out with a heartfelt plea as a mother doing everything I can for my young child. Our situation has been incredibly difficult, and I’m trying to find any possible way to secure some relief and safety for us. Your support whether through donations or simply sharing my story could make a real difference for my little one’s future.

If you can, please share this post across your social media or follow my account to stay updated. I’m so grateful for any help you can give, even if it’s just helping us reach others. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

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EMERGENCY🚨Help a new mother and her baby find food, medical care, and safety

Suad Ahmad is an engineer from Gaza. She graduated from university at the top of her class and was rapidly excelling in her career as an instructor, consultant, and team leader.

Suad, her husband, and their family were overjoyed to find out she was pregnant. Sadly, this was only a week before occupation began its illegal scorched earth campaign against the people of Gaza. Suad's home (left) and workplace (right) were destroyed, and she and her husband's family were displaced from the north.

After building a scaffolding structure for their family in the supposed “safe area” in Rafah (left), the occupation attacked the city and forced their evacuation. Suad and her family were then displaced to Deir al-Balah, where they procured a tent (right). As you can see, these are small, vulnerable structures, completely exposed to the elements. They were exposed to multiple disease vectors while also being unable to procure enough food. During this time, Suad became extremely sick with gastroenteritis, a dangerous condition during pregnancy.

On the day she went into labor, Suad had to walk a great distance to the hospital. Upon arrival, she found that the hospital was operating at bare minimal capacity. There was not even a bed for her to use. Suad’s baby was born with minimal medical support, and the ordeal was extremely difficult. The occupation then began bombing the vicinity of the hospital. Suad and her baby were in immense danger, with nowhere to turn.

Unfortunately, the situation has only gotten worse. Suad and her infant are now living in a tent in extreme heat. IOF attacks continue, putting their lives in immediate danger. The occupation’s blockade on Rafah Crossing and the destruction of roads and infrastructure has led to increased, extreme food scarcity. Suad cannot find enough food to feed herself or her baby. She has not been able to recover from the difficult birth, and her baby is missing out on crucial nutrition needed for neonatal development.

Suad has had a campaign open for several weeks, raising support so that she, her husband, and her husband’s mother and sister could evacuate to Egypt. Sadly, progress has been slow. She was unable to collect the necessary resources to evacuate before the occupation illegally seized Rafah Crossing, the only border crossing that would enable evacuation.

However, international pressure continues to mount on the occupation to depart the crossing. Once they do, Suad and her baby need to be able to evacuate to Egypt for their health and safety. You can help make this possible by directly supporting them at the link below.

Please, help give Suad and her baby a better chance at life. If you cannot give, please reblog this post and repost the link▶️ (https://gofund.me/ebaee2af) across all of your social media accounts.

Verified by @nabulsi

[aventurineswife]

hello~ I was hoping I could make a teensy (hopefully it stays teensy request XP) Dan Heng, Aventurine, Dr Ratio, Jing yuan, Jiaoqiu and AE!Sunday with a s/o or spouse who gets cold very easily but they remain quiet and dont complain abt it out loud to avoid being a bother XPc 🍮♠

Unspoken Warmth

Summary: Your partner notices your quiet endurance of the cold and offers warmth in their unique way, despite your reluctance to show weakness.

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Dr. Ratio x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Jiaoqiu x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Quiet Intimacy, Cold Weather Care, Protective Characters, Emotional Support, Silent Love, Soft Moments

You never complained about the cold. Not once. The chill of the wind outside the Astral Express had crept into your bones, and while most would have found the drop in temperature unbearable, you kept your discomfort to yourself. Dan Heng, however, was not one to miss the subtle shiver that ran through your body as you sat near the windows, gazing out into the vast, starry void.

He had noticed it before. How you would curl into yourself just a little tighter when the cold crept in, how you would sit with your shoulders drawn in, silently enduring the icy air without a single word of complaint. It wasn’t like you to ask for anything—Dan Heng knew that much. He respected it, perhaps more than you realized.

But that didn’t mean he was blind to it.

One evening, as the train hummed steadily through the vastness of space, he sat beside you, his sharp gaze flicking over the space around you. It had gotten colder, the sort of bite in the air that left no room for doubt. Yet you remained still, your posture ever so slight in your discomfort.

Without saying anything, he stood up and moved toward the cabin's storage. You heard the faint rustle of fabric, and then he returned, holding a thick, dark cloak draped over his arm.

“This should help,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, as he carefully wrapped the cloak around your shoulders.

The warmth that radiated from the fabric immediately enveloped you, a small relief from the chill that had been gnawing at your skin. You opened your mouth to thank him but caught yourself. He was already back in his seat, his spear resting against the wall beside him. His demeanor hadn't shifted—stoic, calm, as always.

But then, you noticed the subtle change in his expression. His gaze, soft yet insistent, met yours for the briefest of moments. It wasn’t pity, but understanding. You weren’t the only one who carried silent burdens.

“I’ve got your back,” he added quietly, as though reading your thoughts.

And you knew, without needing to say a word, that he would always be there, silently offering warmth when you least expected it.

The cold had arrived swiftly, settling in with the smooth precision of a well-played hand in a game of cards. But unlike the calculated nature of your partner, this sudden chill seemed to have caught you off guard. Your body shivered slightly as the evening air settled over Aventurine’s apartment, the cold creeping into your bones.

You didn’t complain. You never did. Despite the discomfort of your quiet shivers, you simply curled your arms around yourself, hoping the warmth of your own body would be enough to stave off the cold.

But Aventurine—always observant, always attuned to the smallest details—had noticed. His sharp eyes flicked toward you, noting the way you hugged your arms tighter to your chest. He did not ask, he did not speak aloud, but within moments, you felt his presence beside you.

He draped his coat over your shoulders, the fur lining warm against your skin. You blinked in surprise, raising your head to meet his amused, yet tender, smile.

“Never thought I’d see someone like you let the cold win,” he teased gently, though his tone carried no malice.

You couldn’t help but smile in return, though you still said nothing. Aventurine’s smile deepened, as if he understood your reluctance to voice your discomfort.

“Stay warm, my dear.” he whispered, his hand brushing your hair back with a softness that felt almost too tender for the flamboyant strategist.

As he moved to sit down beside you, his cloak still wrapped around your shoulders, you leaned into him, letting the warmth from both his coat and his presence soothe the cold. No words were needed. With Aventurine, you had learned that sometimes, silence was the most profound way to express affection.

The cold was biting, a stark contrast to the usual warmth of the laboratory. You hadn’t said a word about it, of course. You never did. Your pride was too strong, your desire to not be a burden too ingrained in you. But that didn’t stop the creeping chill from seeping into your skin.

Ratio, ever perceptive despite his sharp and often dismissive nature, had noticed the subtle way your shoulders hunched as you worked alongside him. The shivering that danced along your arms hadn’t escaped his sharp eyes.

He did not comment. There was no question in his tone when he moved from the desk to the shelves, his fingers brushing over vials and medical instruments with precise ease. He returned a moment later with a heated compress, offering it to you without so much as a word.

“Place it here.” he instructed, gesturing to your hands.

You blinked at him, surprise momentarily breaking your usual calm demeanor. You hadn’t expected him to notice, much less to care.

Ratio’s eyes met yours—intense, unwavering, yet there was a flicker of something softer behind them. A quiet acknowledgment of your discomfort.

“It’s not weakness,” he added in a rare moment of tenderness. “Sometimes, even the strongest need a little help.”

You didn’t need to speak, but you gave him a small, grateful nod, the warmth from the compress beginning to seep into your body, making the cold feel a little less sharp.

It had become a routine. The cold would set in, and you would remain silent about it. You never asked for his attention, never begged for warmth, but Jing Yuan—calm, calculating, always two steps ahead—had noticed.

The evening had grown cold, and though you tried to remain composed, Jing Yuan’s sharp eyes caught the subtle way you tucked your arms around yourself, the faint shiver that ran through your form.

He didn’t speak a word at first, content to observe from a distance as you tried to maintain your stoic composure. But after a few moments, he stood, slowly walking toward you with the same deliberate pace he always maintained, his golden eyes softening with a quiet understanding.

Without asking, he wrapped a thick blanket around you, his hands brushing over your shoulders as he adjusted it for maximum comfort. His actions were practical, yet there was a gentleness in his touch that spoke volumes.

“You should have said something,” he murmured quietly, his voice carrying no reproach, only a subtle note of care.

You offered a faint smile, though you still didn’t speak, content to let the warmth of the blanket and his presence surround you. Jing Yuan simply nodded, his gaze distant but kind.

“I’m here,” he added softly, his usual authority giving way to something more personal. “Next time, let me know if you’re cold.”

And with that, you knew—without a word—that he would always be there to offer warmth, whether spoken or unspoken.

The cold came as it often did, unannounced and relentless. You tried to ignore it, as you always did, curling up with your thoughts and your work, pretending the biting chill didn’t bother you.

But Jiaoqiu, perceptive as always, saw through your act. His gentle eyes studied you from across the room as he prepared his alchemical concoctions, his hands steady and graceful. When he noticed the subtle tremble of your body, he moved toward you, his expression calm but his intent clear.

Without a word, he produced a thick, soft blanket from one of his cabinets and carefully draped it around your shoulders, ensuring you were warm but not overwhelmed.

“I know you don’t like to ask for help,” he said, his voice low and comforting, “but you don’t need to suffer in silence.”

You met his gaze, and for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hung between you. You hadn’t needed to say anything, yet Jiaoqiu knew exactly what you needed. The warmth from the blanket and his thoughtful gesture melted some of the cold, but it was the warmth of his care that truly made the difference.

And for the first time that day, you let yourself relax, allowing Jiaoqiu’s presence to be the healing you didn’t know you needed.

The cold had always been a silent companion. You never complained about it. You never showed weakness. It wasn’t that you didn’t mind the chill—it was simply a matter of pride. You would endure it silently.

But Sunday, ever the observant leader, had noticed. He saw the way your movements became just a bit stiffer, how your usual calm demeanor seemed to falter as the temperature dropped.

One evening, as you stood near the window of your shared quarters aboard the Astral Express, lost in thought, he approached without a word. You felt the weight of his presence before you heard his soft voice.

“You should’ve said something,” he murmured, his words carrying the authority of a leader, but with the gentleness of someone who truly cared.

Before you could respond, Sunday wrapped his long, elegant coat around you, pulling you gently into his embrace. The warmth of his body, combined with the softness of the fabric, melted the chill in your bones.

“You are not a burden,” he whispered, the quiet conviction in his tone breaking through your usual restraint. “I would have done this sooner if you had let me.”

For the first time, you didn’t feel the need to hide your discomfort. Sunday’s embrace, his warmth, was enough to make you forget the cold, not just around you, but inside as well.

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter four

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a confession, a second first date, and the start of something special. (4.8k)

a/n: happy birthday landooo!!! my gift to him is a girlfriend 🙂‍↕️

previous chapter | masterlist

A loud clang from the kitchen startles you from your sleep, blinking awake to a still dark room.

Your head throbs a little bit, but the headache isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. It’s easy to ignore, especially since your mind is occupied by the snoring boy sprawled out under you. 

Lando’s fast asleep on his back, one arm slung over your torso loosely while the other hangs off the end of the sofa above his head, legs tangled with yours. You don’t remember cuddling up like this during the night, but you’re not complaining. He’s warm and comfy, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest soothing. 

You almost don’t want to get up, but your curiosity about the noises coming from the kitchen wins out in the end. Very carefully, you wiggle out from under his arm, peeling yourself away from him as slow as you can so as to not wake him. 

Once you’ve successfully extracted yourself, you can’t help but drop a kiss to Lando’s forehead before you go, pushing his curls away from his browline to do so. He lets out a little sigh, rolls onto his side, but remains deep in slumber as you pad out of the room. 

The ruckus turns out to be Camille puttering around the kitchen making coffee—an essential hangover cure.

“Sorry, sorry, I was trying to be quiet. Did I wake you?” She hisses, cringing. You wave an absentminded hand, stifling a yawn as you plant yourself on a stool at the counter.

She slides a mug of coffee towards you and you gladly accept, leaning over the steam wafting from the piping hot drink. It’s taking all of your willpower not to gulp it all down in one go and burn your throat. 

Camille lets you sip and sit as you attempt to wake yourself up a little more, but you can tell she’s dying to say something. You sigh. “Say what you wanna say.”

“Oh thank god. I hate you for making me wait more than five seconds, but whatever. Anyways, Lando stayed over last night?”

“Mhm, yeah. He did.” You bob your head noncommittally, staring hard at the dark liquid in your cup. Despite your laser focus, you can still feel Camille’s eyes boring into the top of your head, and when you finally do look up at her, she’s looking at you very pointedly. “What? We talked for a bit, and then we fell asleep.” 

“And that’s all that happened?” 

“Uh…” Your voice goes higher pitched than necessary, one eye squinting shut. You want to tell her everything, but you haven’t had the chance to speak with Lando yet. You’re not sure what “everything” entails yet.

Lando shuffles into the kitchen right at that moment, rubbing furiously at his eye with one hand while the other scratches at his stomach aimlessly. He extends his arms high over his head in a loud yawn and stretch combo, in doing so revealing a strip of tanned torso that has you nearly choking on your sip of coffee. 

That earns you two confused, yet amused looks, for wildly different reasons. 

“Hot.” You say lamely, in a very poor explanation. Lando’s expression turns slightly smug. “The coffee. Burned my tongue.” 

“Morning, sunshine!” Camille chirps happily. Knowingly. She beams at Lando and it stops him in his tracks, blinking unsurely at her chipper form like he’s hallucinating instead of responding. “Cool, just stare at me like I’m an alien.” 

“Sorry, I just—how are you not hungover right now? You could barely walk straight last night,” He asks incredulously. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She hums, winking at him. 

Lando pulls himself onto the stool next to yours with a groan, but doesn’t hesitate to give you the best smile he can muster in greeting. “Morning. How’d you sleep?” 

“Good,” You say softly, wrapping your hands around the mug in front of you. “You?” 

“Really good. Best sleep I’ve had in months, actually.” 

“On a shitty couch with no back support? Interesting.” 

Lando checks to see that Camille isn’t paying any attention before he responds. “Maybe it was the company.” 

You feel your cheeks blaze hot under his intense gaze, but you can’t bring yourself to break eye contact with him. You still need to address what happened last night. It’s still something you haven’t quite wrapped your head around yet, and you feel the need to stall so you can gather your thoughts some more. 

“Coffee’s fresh on, if you want some,” You blurt. 

Lando takes your reaction in stride, as if he senses you need time. “Oh, that sounds amazing right now.” 

Instead of going to pour himself his own cup, he eases yours out of your hands and takes a hefty sip from it in one fell swoop, before you can even tell him it’s just coffee. He doesn’t like plain black coffee. Then he shudders, face scrunching up in adorable disgust. “Blegh. Needs milk. Sugar, too.” 

“That’s because it’s mine, and I happen to think it’s just fine the way it is, thank you very much.” 

“You don’t wanna share?” 

Your nose crinkles in the same way his had a few moments ago. “Not if you’re going to dump a fuckton of sugar in it.”

“Not a fuckton! Just a spoon or two. Maybe three.” 

“Get your own, Norris.” You roll your eyes playfully, and Lando cocks his head in challenge, lifts your mug back to his lips for another long sip, this time obnoxiously loud. Paired with the adorable crooked troublemaker’s grin, you have to fight the need to kiss him again. 

You want to, but you can’t. Not yet. 

Samira and Maren trudge in a little while later, looking much worse for wear than you all. Neither of them even have it in her to reply to any of your good morning’s, only to make it over to pour themselves a generous mugs of coffee. 

“See, that’s what I thought you lot would be like right now,” Lando says, waving a hand at your two zombies of friends. “That’s what normal people are like after hitting up four bars in a night, you psychopaths.”

“If my head wasn’t pounding right now, I’d punch you in your pretty boy face,” Samira grumbles, glaring at him through bleary eyes. “What’re you even doing here, anyways?” 

“Who d’you think brought you all home last night?” 

“Then why do I remember Max doing a horrible rendition of We Belong Together by Mariah Carey?” Maren groans, face screwing up in confusion. 

In perfect timing, you hear the front door open, and then Max’s booming voice.

“Your savior has arrived!” He saunters into view with his hands behind his back, as if he’s hiding something behind him. The closer he gets, the more you can smell something mouthwatering wafting from whatever he’s just brought. 

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, I guess,” Camille chuckles. 

Max juts his lower lip out, smacking one hand over his heart. “Aw, you guys were talking about me? All good things, I hope.” 

“Always, mate,” Lando assures him, but not without shooting you a cheeky wink as soon as his friend turns away. 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Samira grits out, glaring at no one in particular. “You’re all being way too loud right now.” 

“Guess that means you don’t want the food I brought?” 

“...What is it?” 

“Sugar and carbs.” 

“Hand over the box right now and you’re forgiven.”

The four of them get into some other conversation quickly after that, giving Lando the privacy to lean over towards you, lips nearly ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Think we can slip out and have that talk now?” 

You cast a glance at your friends fighting over the pastries in the box. They won’t even notice you’re gone. 

Lando’s mouth is on yours as soon as you’re out of sight and earshot, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You almost forget what you’re supposed to be doing, but catch the thought at the last second before it slips away. 

“Mm, Lando, hold on—” You mumble, splaying a hand flat across his chest. He lets out a distracted sound of question, squeezing at your waist. “Less kissing, more talking,” You chide. 

Lando pouts, but obliges, taking a step back to put just the smallest bit of space between you. “Fine, fine, I’m listening.” 

“Look, I don’t—I’m not normally one to do things that scare me. And when you told me who you were, I immediately shut down because I thought no, that’s not me. I can’t do that, that’s too scary to be me. I wanted to play it safe.” 

His heart beats strongly under your palm, if not a little quicker than usual with your fingers curled into the softness of his rumpled jumper.

You’re not looking at his face right now. With how vulnerable you’re being with him right now, you aren’t sure that you’ll be able to utter the words if you look him in the eye. 

Instead, you’ve got your gaze trained on his hand on top of yours, the collection of bracelets on his wrist that you remind yourself to ask about another time. 

“Getting to know you, realizing how much I like you, I think it also made me realize that life is too short to always play it safe. Some people are worth stepping out of my comfort zone for. What we are, what we could be—you’re worth stepping out of my comfort zone for,” You say softly, but firmly. 

It’s nothing but the absolute truth. You’re putting yourself out there in a way you’ve never had the courage to do before. But Lando, he gives you courage. He makes you want to try. 

“So this is me, doing something scary, asking if you’ll…take a chance on me?” 

Only then do you muster up the courage to look him in the eye, and when you do, you’re met with the biggest, most smitten grin you’ve ever seen grace his face. Dimples on full display, eyes squinted with happiness, he’s smiling so hard it almost looks like it hurts. 

“I’ll take every chance I’ve got on you,” He says earnestly, cupping your face in both hands. “And if I’ve got none left, I’d find some more, ‘cause you’re worth it a hundred times over.” 

“Sorry it took me so long to figure my shit out,” You say sheepishly. 

 He gestures towards himself suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. “I knew you couldn’t resist all this for long.”

“You’re so dumb,” You scoff, shaking your head at his antics. Even so, your affection for him has never been clearer. You may say he's dumb (you know he isn’t), but he’s yours now. He’s yours now and you've never been more excited to see what’ll happen. 

“Well, you like me, so…guess you’ve just got to deal with it.” 

“Yeah? And what do you think I should do about that?” 

“What do I think? You wanna know what I think? I think you should…” He trails off, pushing in closer, closer, closer, until his mouth hovers a millimeter from yours. Careful fingers tilt your chin up to guide you the rest of the way, meeting your lips gently. 

You’d kiss Lando all day if you had the time, just because now you can, but there’s still the issue of the when and how you’re going to tell your friends. Reluctantly, you pull away. “We should get back before they notice we’re missing.”  

“Probably, yeah.” You wait for him to move but he doesn’t. He just looks at you like he can’t believe you’re real. 

“What?” You reach up hastily in an attempt to smooth out your hair. “Do I look okay?” 

“You look perfect.”

“Stop being so sweet. I mean, do I look like I’ve just been kissed within an inch of my life?” 

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” 

You press one more quick peck to his lips in lieu of a response, giving his hand another squeeze before turning on your heel to head back. Lando follows behind like a puppy, close but not too close. 

All eyes are on you the second you step back into the room, four pairs flicking from Lando to you, back to him, then back to you. Granted, it probably would’ve been a smarter idea to return at separate times so as to not raise suspicion, but it’s too late for that now. 

“...What?” You try for a lighter tone to throw them off, tilting your head to the side. 

One second passes. Two, three, four seconds. You almost think you can pull this off. Then—

“You fuckers!” Maren huffs, seeming much more alert and awake now. “You couldn’t have waited another day to get your shit together?” 

Definitely not the reaction you were envisioning in your head, if you’re being honest. 

“‘Scuse me?” Lando asks, looking both bewildered and a little bit offended by the outburst. He aims a sideways glance at you for an explanation that you can’t provide.

All it does is confuse you, but for some reason, Samira begins to giggle uncontrollably. Even Max looks a mixture of happy and smug. 

“I just lost thirty bucks to Max because of you two!” 

“You bet on us? What the fuck, mate!” Lando exclaims incredulously. 

Max lets out an offended noise from the back of his throat. “You expect me not to take my chances on easy money? Get real, mate. I can give you a cut of it if it gets your knickers out of a twist.” 

“What they mean is, we’re glad you finally figured out you belong together,” Camille says earnestly, only a tad apologetic. Lando takes this moment to sling an arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side and pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“Right, well, in other news, I actually came over here with a purpose other than providing joy to everyone,” Max interrupts the tender moment, clapping once. “Lando, we’ve got Keegan’s thing today, so we gotta, y’know—gotta get going, yeah?” 

Lando inhales sharply, shoulders slumping. “Right. Fuck, I forgot about that.” 

“Yeah, I know you did. Too busy wooing your lady and all,” Max teases, aiming a wink in your direction that has you throwing up a playful middle finger at him. Lando turns to face you, frowning. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve gotta—I wish I could stay, I really do. I totally spaced on this thing one of our mates has going on today, we promised we’d go—” 

“It’s okay, Lando,” You say, endeared by his scrabbling for an explanation. He didn’t really need one to begin with, but it’s cute that he feels the need to explain himself. “Go do your thing. I’ll see you when you’ve got time.” 

“You’re the best. How did I get so lucky?” He sighs, dramatically dreamy. Humor twinkles in his eyes. 

“Bye,” You chuckle, moving to peel yourself away from him. You want to get in on one of the pastries Max had brought before they’re gone. 

“Wait, wait.” Lando slips his fingers through yours, tugging lightly to stop you before you can get even a few steps away. “Before I go. Do you have any dinner plans tonight?” 

Your brows pinch in the middle. “No. Why?” 

“I want a do over of our first date. One that doesn’t end in…y’know.” You hum in thought, like you’re even contemplating turning him down, and he lets out a little frustrated whine that makes you giggle again. “Come on, let me take you out. Wanna wine and dine you properly, baby.” 

The term of endearment rolls off his tongue so easily, so casually, like he’s called you it all along. It makes you concede. 

“Where are we going?” 

“That’s for me to figure out before tonight,” He hums. You raise a semi-skeptical brow. “I’ve got ideas, I swear! Just wear something pretty and be ready by seven. I’ll be by to pick you up then.” 

“Okay.” You nod. Lando perks up, beaming bright. He kisses you again, briefly but enthusiastically, before turning to follow Max towards the front door. “See you tonight. And you better not be late!” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” 

The rumble of a car driving away echoes out soon after the two boys disappear from sight.

You sigh lightly, returning your attention back to the enticing box of pastries on the counter. You pray the one that had been calling your name in the little peek you'd gotten when Max first handed them over is still there. 

Your hand gets smacked as you eagerly reach for the box, not hard enough to bruise but hard enough to make you curse. You look up to see all three girls waiting expectantly for you to fess up and tell them how you’d gone from awkwardly avoiding Lando to what they'd just witnessed. 

“Can I at least eat first?” They shake their heads firmly, and you whine. “What? Come on, I’m starving!” 

“Explain, then eat.” 

Your shoulders creep up towards your ears in a shrug. Seeing as it was kind of just a gut feeling more than anything, it’s a little hard to articulate with words. You try your best at it anyways.

“I…realized I was making a mistake by walking away because I was scared. You guys know I’ve never been great with change, but I dunno, maybe change is okay sometimes.” 

“Oh my god, our girl is growing up.” 

-------

The closer it gets to seven, you find your nerves growing with every tick, tick, tick of the clock. You’re not even sure why. It’s just dinner, and it’s just Lando. You’re comfortable with Lando. You like Lando. 

So why does it feel like you’re about to do something so much bigger than that? 

Dinner might as well mean canon event in your mind. Things with Lando are literally brand new, not even a full day old yet, but it feels like something monumental. Your first date ended in shambles (thanks to your own doing), so the urge to make sure this one goes perfect is high.

The pressure is on, and you don’t do too well under pressure. That doesn’t even include the fact that your feelings for him are stronger than anything you’ve felt for anyone before. 

The moment Lando pulls up in front and you lay eyes on him climbing out of the car though, all your worries start to melt away. He looks so happy to see you again, even though you haven’t even been apart for a full day. It makes you remember that there’s no reason to get all worked up about anything with him.  

“Hey, you,” He says, leaning in to wrap an arm around your waist as soon as he’s close enough. “Missed your face today.” 

“Just my face?” You tease.

Lando’s head lists to one side, nose scrunching adorably. “Maybe other parts of you too.” Your eyebrows lift towards your hairline amusedly at his words and he groans, nudging you gently in the ribs with a large hand. “Oh, get your head out of the gutter! I didn’t mean it like that.” 

You giggle, dotting a kiss to his pouting lips. “So what’d you come up with for our second first date?” 

“Why don’t you get in the car and see?” He offers out his arm and you take it gladly, accepting his help into the car too. You think he’s about to start the car when he slides into the driver’s seat, but he catches you by surprise by sneaking in another kiss instead. “You look amazing.”

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” You shoot back. He’s gone for simple but put together with a classic white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and some dark trousers, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t pull them off fantastically. 

“All for you, baby.” He grins, winking boyishly. “I got us a reservation at the nicest restaurant in town. Well, nicest according to the loads of travel blogs me and Max looked at. Fancy seeing if Greek summer gal dot com knows what she’s talking about?” 

“With a name like that, how ever could she be wrong?” You play along, lacing your fingers through his. He dots a kiss to your temple. 

Lando chats about his day on the way into town, all the way until his phone rings. His brow furrows, and for a split second you think it might be work calling again. If it is, you have half a mind to answer it yourself and chew them out. 

“Sorry, d’you mind seeing who it is?” Lando lifts himself off the seat, shoving a hand into his pocket to squeeze his buzzing phone out and passing it to you. A wildly unflattering photo of Max flashes across the screen. 

“It’s Max. Want me to answer?” You offer, giggling at the silly sight. He nods gratefully, keeping his eyes on the road. You tap the accept call button, putting the other boy on speaker. 

“What’s up, mate?” Lando says, hitting you with a ‘get a load of this guy’ sort of look. “Kinda in the middle of something here.” 

“Yeah I know, that’s why I’m calling. You can’t go to that restaurant.” 

Lando’s expression morphs into one of confusion, one you’re sure that you’re mirroring as you squint back at him. “Uh…sure we can. I made a reservation, everything’s set already.” 

“I know, asshole!” Max huffs. “Someone must’ve leaked your name on the reservation to the press or something, ‘cause I just drove by a few minutes ago and it’s crawling with people. Like, swamped with paparazzi and fans.” 

Lando’s knuckles tighten on the steering wheel, face screwing up into something between anger and despair. “Shit. That’s not good.” 

“Just thought I’d let you know before you get there,” Max says. He sounds guilty, but he has no reason to be. You’re glad he’d been able to get a hold of Lando beforehand. “You can still go out, just…maybe find somewhere else to go, I dunno.” 

“Thank you, Max,” You chime in. 

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up, mate. Cheers.” 

Lando flicks on his blinker to pull off to the side of the road the first chance he gets after Max hangs up, and when he does turn the car off, he immediately goes to bang his head against the steering wheel. “This is so bad,” He groans. 

You smooth a hand down his back in an attempt to soothe him. “It’s fine, Lando. We can just go somewhere else.” 

“I wanted this so badly to go perfect, and again, I’m the reason why it’s all going to shit.” 

“It’s not going to shit. And you wouldn’t be the reason for it, even if it was,” You insist firmly. He straightens up in his seat, turning to face you with doubt crinkling his face that you immediately want to rid him of. Your hand finds his, prying his fingers off the steering wheel to intertwine. “I mean it. I don’t care that we’re not going to some fancy restaurant. All I care about is that we’re together.” 

Lando squeezes your hand, bringing it up to his lips to press a grateful kiss to your knuckles. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”

“I know.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance. It makes him chuckle, brings back the twinkle in his eye.

After driving for a bit, you eventually find yourselves at a little gyro spot to grab some food. You push open the door to get out once Lando has put the car to a stop, but at the very last moment, you turn back to face him. 

“You should probably stay here,” You say, gnawing on your lip. 

Lando pouts, but doesn’t make a move to exit the car. He must know it’s for the best. Even so, he digs out his wallet, pressing a few bills into your hand. You click your tongue, giving your head a shake. “Don’t look at me like that. I asked you to dinner, I pay for it.”

“Alright, fine.” 

“Mint. Get me something good?”

“‘Course I will. Salmon, right?” You quip, smiling innocently. His hatred for fish is something you’ll never tire of poking fun at him for. 

“Don’t even joke about that, you monster!” Lando exclaims, slapping a dramatic hand over his chest. You laugh out loud. “And don’t you think about getting fish either, or I’ll never kiss you again.”

“Well, someone’s dramatic!”

“I’m serious!” 

You leave him behind at that, giggling to yourself about his theatrics.

The lady working the counter in the little mom and pop gyro shop is very kind, compliments your outfit and calls you a beautiful young woman while you wait on your food—even gives you an order of veggie kroketes, on the house.

She kind of reminds you of your own mother, whom you make a mental note to call when you have the time. You’ve been having such a good time here, you’ve nearly forgotten the rest of your world outside of it.

You wind up finding someplace not far away to enjoy your food once you’ve gotten it. A hidden spot, a little off the road—not a place anyone would come across unless they were looking hard enough. Perfect for two people who’d rather not attract attention. 

Lando procures a beach towel from the boot of the car for the two of you to sit on as you eat. 

“I’m sorry about the restaurant again. I usually don’t use my actual name when I do things like that, but they were just about booked up and I really wanted us to go, so I did,” He sighs, tracing a finger along the patterned cotton. “I had no idea it’d get leaked, I swear. Guess I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Does that usually work? Using your name to get things.” 

Lando’s cheeks flush pink and he smiles guiltily, ducking his head momentarily before nodding. “Usually, yeah. I don’t do it often though. Almost never, really. Only for special things, and this…well, I wanted it to be just that. Special.” 

“It is special,” You say, letting your knee bump his. 

He scoffs lightly like he doesn’t think the same, lifting his half eaten wrap in the air. “We’re sat on the side of the road eating takeaway.”

Even a date like this truly is something special to you. Spending time with the person you’ve become so close with in such a short amount of time—the one who makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, who makes you feel like you can truly be yourself—it’s something you were starting to think you’d never have. Lando’s come along and changed all that. 

“Do you think you have to impress me?” Lando doesn’t say anything, just lets his mouth snap shut, but you can see it in his eyes that yes, he feels the need to impress you. You’re not sure why, but you suspect it has less to do with you and more to do with his own feelings. “Because you don’t. I couldn’t care less about your name, your money, or anything else that comes with it. I like you for you, not for what your status can get us.” 

Lando stares back at you long and hard, as if he’s searching you for any ounce of indication that you’re not telling him the truth. You’re certain he’ll find nothing, because even though you’re still getting to know each other—flaws, fears, and all—you’ll never lie to him. 

“I’m sorry,” He says eventually. “I dunno why I thought—” He cuts himself off with a shake of the head. “Y’know what, nevermind. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be better.” 

 “You don’t need to be better,” You hum, resting your head against his shoulder. “You just need to be you.” 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re really good at this pep talk thing?” 

“Never had to give anyone this many pep talks before.” 

Lando pokes his fingers into the ticklish spot between your ribs in response. You reach to bat away his hand, but he moves quicker, leaning in to drag his nose against your cheek. 

“Is now a bad time to tell you I did actually get the fish?” 

Lando rears his head back faster than you could’ve imagined, looking so absolutely horrified at your insinuation it has you breaking composure almost instantly. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was two seconds away from gagging out loud. “No you did not.” 

“I didn’t, but wouldn't it have been funny if I did?” 

“That is so not cool,” He grumbles, lips pulling into a pout. You have the urge to kiss it away and you fight it for a moment, but then you remember you can kiss him whenever you want, so you do. It seems to make him forget about his disgust, because he kisses you back immediately. 

You’re one who’s dazed when you finally resurface for air, but you manage to smile sweetly. “Better now?” 

“Getting there. Maybe a little longer would help.” 

“Just a little longer?” 

“A lot longer works too.” 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new chapter :)

[livbedum]

older chapter one

younger actress!reader x drew starkey smau

summary in which you and drew run into some fans and it only fuels the rumors

next chapter

ynupdates posted photos!

liked by starkeyluvr , tsitpfan and others

ynupdates got to meet y/n and drew when i was out last night! they were with the rest of obx cast and chris but i didn’t get to meet the all of them! y/n was so nice and drew is so hot i love my life

tagged yourusername drewstarkey

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username omfg omfg omfg

username i knew the casts became friends after hellraiser came out with y/n and drew but seeing it changes things

↳ username they were friends before hellraiser because lilah introduced them!

username are they dating?

↳ username goodbyeeeee men and women can be friends

username y/n living our dream

username first chris and now drew? seems like y/n is just trying to date whoever she can from work

yourusername ope— not the bad angle!☹️

↳ ynupdates omF I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR TAKING PICS AND TALKING TO ME I LOVE YOU DREW TOO OMFG

↳ yourusername i love you more<3 i loved being able to meet you!!!!

↳ yourusername drewstarkey found her!

↳ ynupdates you were talking about me?!?? OMFG IM SCREMAING

↳ drewstarkey hey!!! we found her!😁

↳ ynupdates OMFGG AGWIKWUS

username no bc why do i ship y/n with chris and drew at the same time??

username they have to be dating! i saw them hanging out alone last week!! i didn’t want to bother them because they were having dinner , but it didn’t look friendly!

↳ username i need to know everything

username i need season three of tsitp right neowwww

↳ username bc why do we have to wait so long😭

yourusername posted to their story!

drewstarkey replied to your story!

no photo credit is crazy

also a premiere throwback when the next season doesn’t come out until next year is ridiculous. you’re edging us at this point

ilydrwstrky tweeted!

the fact that y’all are saying there’s so many signs pointing to drew dating y/n is ridiculous! y’all are delusional and reaching atp. they met thru lilah ( her dad is drew’s boss and her coworker is y/n ) and so the two casts of tsitp and obx hang out. that’s it! y’all are sad!

35 replies | 107 retweets | 439 likes | 10 favorites

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↳ username i fear you’re being more delusional than the shippers queen

↳ username we’ve been over this people! stop shipping real human beings!

↳ username personally , i’m going to stay in my yndrew bubble while you stay jealous that drew’s never going to pick you

↳ username there’s so many threads on x alone that support and feed into the rumor of them being together , but i seriously hope not. they met when she was 19 and he was 27. did somebody say leo dicaprio?

an first chapter out. first social media fic out. so pls tell me u love it before i crash out💋

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

[lilasboudoir]

Even if you think it's pointless, try anything to survive. Call a help center online. Call for a trusted loved one. Ask for help and when you don't find it, try again. Don't listen to the voice in your head saying "it's pointless" or "the world would be better off without me anyway". That's the desease talking. You matter. Even if I don't know you, even if I only barely know you only online through likes and posts, you matter to me. As part of communities I love or just respect from affar, you matter. Because the communities I love are made by people, and that someone desapearing is a tragedy that impacts us all in different ways. I'm not good enough in english to express how much even if we don't know eachother it's so so important to me that you survive. Because just by existing you make the spaces I care for so important. Maybe thanks to you, through the strange logic of the algorithm I learnt something that matters to me today. Maybe we liked the same post. Maybe we know the same artist. I can't stress out how much of a black hole you would leave if you weren't there anymore. In those trying times, we need to support eachother the best way we can and if you're not here anymore, it's one less supportive soul for us. It's a community sibling we will all mourn, without even knowing it. So yeah, let's fight together. And by fight, I mean any kind of fight. Yes, surviving is a fight. The most important one I might add. Outlive the stupid people who hate us. You bring so much more to humanity than them, just by existing. You don't even have to do anything to bring joy, warmth, and meaning to us. Just being you is enough. Just loving what you love is enough. Just sharing your passion or knowledge by rebloging or liking is enough. Just interacting with us is enough.

Just being part of our community is enough. So please, stay.

I hope none of you disappear in the coming days. Seriously don't do anything that can't be undone.

[hannieehaee]

Idk if you're taking requests but I would give it a short and it would mean so much if you actually wrote smthg bout it.

An angsty fic/drabble where woozi and reader are in a long term established relationship and the reader gets their absolute dream job opportunity but it's far from Korea and she tells it to woozi but they get conflicted since woozi cannot transfer between his work and seventeen and reader does not want to give up this once in a life time opportunity. At the same time they are sceptical about a long distance relationship since reader had already been fed up of how less they get to see and stay with woozi with him travelling and working constantly.

You don't have to write it if it's too complex but I'd love to see cuz I really like the way you write!

content: idol!woozi x nonidol!reader, established relationship, light angst, fluff, long distance relationship, etc.

wc: 716

a/n: thank u so much!! im so sorry for how long i took to get this out!!

masterlist

it'd been a week since you told jihoon about your new work opportunity. a week since the air in your apartment became just a little bit colder and the future slightly more grim.

jihoon had been supportive immediately, congratulating you and insisting on you accepting the position. he'd been as supportive a boyfriend as he'd been in the past two years of your relationship. it filled you with warmth and hope for the future of your relationship.

it wasn't until you'd let him know of the location of said job that things became more sad than hopeful.

although he still maintained his supportiveness, there was now a clear air of worry in his voice any time it'd get brought up.

you'd tried to ignore it, pushing it aside until you found the courage in you to actually accept the position. it was your dream job. a once in a lifetime opportunity. except it was an entire country away from the love of your life. and you only had three more days to accept the offer letter they'd sent to you.

the thought of doing long distance would have been fine had you been anyone else. but you barely got to see your boyfriend as it was. living with him was really the only way for you to spend time together. his busy idol schedule had him going all over the world, and when he was at home he was usually ever at the company or in your shared apartment.

if you left, you'd give up on ever getting to see him.

"babe."

the voice took you away from your train of thought. the same train of thought distracting you for the past week.

you looked away from the tv that had been playing in front of you. you hadn't even been watching it, but the background noise helped.

jihoon was at the entrance of the living room, two mugs in hand as he walked over to you and took his usual seat, silently handing you your mug with a tight smile.

not even a single sip from your drink was taken before the subject filled the room once more.

"you need to take this job."

"jihoon ..."

"no, listen," he turned his body to face you, "you and i, we're a forever thing, okay? i don't care if we have to be away for a while. i'm already living my dream, it's unfair that you don't get to do the same," he argued with conviction in his eyes.

"but, jihoon ... it won't be like when you're touring. we'll never be in the same country at the same time, i-"

his hands went to take your mug, placing it on the coffee table before taking your hands into his own.

"i don't care!", his voice raised without meaning to, "so we'll have a year or two in which we can't be as close as we've always been, so what? it won't matter in the grand scheme of things. we'll be together for forty- no fifty years. a few years of uncertainty won't matter a few years from now. babe, please."

his voice pleaded at you.

he was afraid you'd end it all instead of at least trying.

what made it worse that he refused to consider a possibility in which you didn't go and follow your dream. it was a done deal to him. he loved you that much.

that was all you needed to make a decision.

"i'll take the job," you said decisively.

jihoon released a sigh of relief right away, hand squeezing your own in encouragement.

"i-i'll rent a place big enough for the two of us over there. i'll ask for a week off every six months. i'll have it written into my contract so i can go visit you. and- and we'll keep this place here for any time you have time off. we'll call every night, no matter what. even if it's just for two minutes, we'll- we'll make it work."

all you could do was smile at him.

how could you ever worry about change when he was willing to work so hard to move along with it all?

you kissed him then, shutting him up with no words.

and he understood, kissing you back with just as much unspoken love.

[v6quewrlds]

if ur comfortable, could u write tee or joe with a AKA girlfriend? love ur work 💗

had to respond to this immediately because yes of course i will bae <3

1908, ALPHA KAPPA ALPHA

A week ago, you had casually mentioned to Joe that you were inviting two of your sorority sisters to stay for the weekend. Joe, bless his heart, had insisted on coming along with you to pick them up. You two had never crossed paths at Ohio State during your time there, but he had heard enough stories to know your sorors were a force to be reckoned with.

The moment the sliding doors parted and your friends emerged, you knew you had nothing to worry about. Kia and Taylor, both equally as radiant as the day you met them, strutted out of the arrivals terminal. You practically leaped out of the car, your face lighting up with joy, and the three of you embraced in a reunion filled with squeals and laughter. The years hadn't changed you; you were still the inseparable trio from the Theta Chapter of Alpha Kappa Alpha, your bond as strong as ever.

Kia, a petite lawyer with glowing caramel skin and an infectious laugh, spotted Joe first. "Ain't that your man?" she exclaimed, pointing to the tall, visibly nervous figure as he leaned against the car. "Look at that color!" Your two friends giggled, noticing Joe's ill-fated fashion choice.

Taylor almost floated over to the car. "Joe," she called out, her voice carrying over the airport crowd, "we see you tryna rep!"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you followed Kia's gaze to Joe, who was indeed wearing a pink polo shirt. "Oh my god," you murmured to yourself, "I didn't even realize." You had told Joe to wear something that would make a good impression, but apparently, he had misunderstood your instructions.

Your friends couldn't contain their laughter as they approached the car. "Joe, honey," Taylor said, her voice thick with amusement, "are you gonna pledge?"

Joe looked down at his shirt, the realization dawned on him, and his cheeks flushed pinker than the fabric. Kia and Taylor couldn't hold it in any longer, bursting into laughter as Joe looked up, his blue eyes wide with embarrassment.

"Well," Kia managed through her giggles, "you're definitely supportive. And that's all we want for our girl."

You stepped in, placing a reassuring hand on Joe's shoulder. "It's okay, baby," you said, your voice warm with affection. "You look hot in pink."

Joe rolled his eyes, but his tension visibly eased. "Thanks," he mumbled shyly, his sarcasm not quite as sharp as usual. "I'll take your bags."

As he loaded their luggage into the trunk, your friends couldn't stop teasing him about his outfit. "You know, Joe," Kia said, winking, "we might just have to give you a little something for this. Maybe an honorary pin or something."

Joe chuckled, trying to play along. "Yeah, sure," he replied, "just be patient with me. I'm still learning the strolls."

As Kia and Taylor huddled into the backseat, you reached for Joe's hand, stopping him as he closed the trunk of the car. "Thank you," you said, your eyes full of genuine gratitude.

Joe's smile grew genuine, the awkwardness fading away. "Anything for you," he replied, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. You leaned in to kiss him before sliding into the driver's seat.

[crazyvik97rpg]

Sebastian listened with interest when William started telling him all about his day. That work was just the usual but that he told their friends. Sebastian was the most curious about that – but apparently they took the news really well. Well, according to circumstances at least. They even sent wishes and offered their support? Awe, they were so sweet.

„Really? Aw…“, Sebastian hummed, pouting a little but more due to the fact that he was quite moved by their reactions. William kissed his hand and reassured him there was no need to worry about anything, they understood. „Tell them thank you. I‘ll do my best to be back as soon as I can“, he smiled.

„My day?“, Sebastian grinned then and also looked over at his grandma for a moment, „Well, I wasn’t too bored, no. Heh. I got a new bed neighbour actually! He’s in surgery right now. An elderly guy arrived this morning with his wife and we chatted a bit. Then Dr Cole came around…I chatted with the nurses…had more boring soup and purree for lunch. But then! Grandma showed up, that was the best surprise“, it was cute how excited Sebastian got when he babbled on and on about his day – it was kind of helpful too, kept him distracted from the discomfort. Grandma Lillian smiled too then and she squeezed his arm a little, nodded: „I heard everything from his mother just a few days ago. So I simply had to come. You know, I have my own problems and all that and getting around isn’t easy. Sebastian‘s cousin drove me here. But…well, I can only imagine how hard this is on him“, she sighed softly and looked at Sebastian again, patting his arm gently.

„But I see you’re very involved as well, I‘m glad. It’s important to have a strong support system, especially in times like these. And Sebastian is so young. It’s already hard as it is“, she noted, smiling at William appreciatively. She could see he was a very supportive, caring young man. Everyone in their closer family knew that Sebastian wasn’t always lucky when it came to love but…really, the fact that Cynthia loved William was all grandma Lillian needed to know.

„We were just about to do some crosswords, actually, before you came. I think I have some more time to stay before your cousin comes to pick me up again“, she hummed as she had a look at her wristwatch. „Leo?“, Sebastian asked but Lillian shook her head and waved her hand, „Carter. Oh, Leonhard has a new girlfriend now, he doesn’t have time for anything or anyone now“.

„As always“, Sebastian snorted, „I thought he broke up? I mean, that was a while ago now…“

„Oh yes, that was months ago. And she was such a sweet girl too. I don’t know what the problem was this time. Oh well…“, Lillian sighed and then looked over at William, showed him a smile and shrugged, „Love just comes and goes, it seems.“

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[tetragonia]

It Almost Worked

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

One summer night. Two knees touching each other. Three hours in conversation. Four logs burning bright on the bonfire. Five best friends having fun. Something almost worked.

warning: nothing, really. no use of (y/n), just pure fluff

note: this was in Season 1-ish, where the Pogues were just Kie and the boys. just a feel-good fic, knowing what we got in Season 4^_^

words: 1.2k

The night was warm, the stars were scattered across the Outer Banks sky like salt crystals tossed over midnight silk. You sat in a circle around the bonfire with John B, Kiara, Pope, and JJ, laughing and trading stories, all of you just on the edge of exhaustion from a long day out on the water. A gentle breeze swept through, carrying with it the salt and wildness of the ocean. It was mid-July and you wanted it to stay like that forever, just the five of you, having the most fun.

JJ sat next to you, his hair tousled and glowing faintly in the firelight, and his laughter mingled with yours as John B recounted a story. He leaned forward, face animated in the flickering light.

“So there we were, okay?” he began, grinning like he’d just cracked open a treasure chest. “Pope’s convinced that we’re being followed, right? He’s looking over his shoulder every two seconds, nearly tripping over his own feet!”

Pope rolled his eyes but stayed silent, clearly waiting for the punchline. Kiara smirked, already skeptical.

“So you guys are just… walking in circles?” she asked, eyebrow raised. John B laughed.

“Well, we thought we were being stealthy, but turns out, we circled around so many times, we ended up right back where we started!”

“Right back in front of Mrs. Callahan’s house,” Pope added, deadpan. “You know, the woman who called the cops on us last summer?”

Kiara shook her head, looking between John B and Pope with pure disbelief. “Wait, you mean to tell me you spent, what, an hour thinking you were outsmarting someone — just to wind up exactly where you started?”

“Hey, hey!” JJ jumped in, clapping to support John B. “They were clearly being hunted, Kie. Expert survival instincts, alright? It’s called evasion.”

You were clutching your stomach, laughing so hard your sides hurt as JJ kept trying to hype up the story with exaggerated nods and dramatic hand gestures.

“Oh, please,” you choked out, trying to catch your breath. “This is the same group that got lost on the mainland, and that was in broad daylight!”

John B threw up his hands in mock offense, “Okay, so maybe we didn’t exactly outsmart anyone. But come on! Admit it, we kept it interesting.”

Everyone erupted in laughter once again at the silly story. It was one of those moments where you felt like time had stopped; there was just the fire, the night, and the warmth of friends.

When everyone was busy laughing, you felt JJ shifted beside you, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out, his knee brushing against yours. The touch was so light, it could’ve been accidental, but he didn’t move it away. Neither did you.

Instead, you let the heat from his knee sink into yours, feeling a strange thrill at the proximity. It was something you’d been noticing more lately—the quiet moments where JJ was just close enough that you could feel him without touching him. And yet, tonight, there was something in the air. Maybe it was the firelight, or maybe it was the feeling of summer hanging heavy and endless, but you were painfully aware of him beside you.

“You guys remember that time we almost got stranded on Midsummers?” JJ’s voice was low, and he grinned, his eyes glancing toward you before drifting back to the group. “I thought for sure we’d end up spending the night in those marshes.”

“Thanks to your brilliant plan,” Pope said with a smirk, leaning forward. “What was it you said again? ‘Who needs a map when you have instinct?’”

Everyone laughed, JJ included, but you felt his knee press a little more firmly against yours, a slight nudge, like he was daring you to react. You met his eyes across the fire, and he raised his eyebrows, just barely, like he was challenging you. You knew that look—it was the one he used right before he did something reckless.

The fire crackled, and JJ leaned closer, his shoulder almost brushing yours now.

“Guess I can’t always get things right,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Almost doesn’t count,” you replied softly, giving him a playful nudge. But he just smiled, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat longer than it should. Your heart skipped, and you forced yourself to look away, but it didn’t stop the flush from creeping up your neck.

“Hey, you two! What are you whispering about over there?” Kiara’s voice cut through the moment, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She’d noticed the space between you and JJ, or rather, the lack of it.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, glancing away and picking at the edge of a log. But JJ, never one to let a moment pass, smirked and tilted his head toward her.

“Just talking about how close you were to breaking that table at Midsummers last year,” he teased, deflecting with his usual charm.

“Oh, shut up, Maybank,” Kiara shot back, but her smile betrayed her amusement.

The conversation drifted back into laughter and teasing, yet JJ didn’t move. His knee was still pressed against yours, his arm brushing yours every so often as he laughed, his hand nearly grazing your own.

Finally, John B and Pope started talking about some ridiculous theory about the treasure, but you were barely listening. You felt hyper-aware of every breath JJ took, every subtle movement he made beside you. You turned your head, meaning to tell him something about the stars, or the fire, or anything to ease the tension building between you.

But then you caught the look in his eyes — something deeper, softer, something that made your heart beat a little faster.

“You know,” he said, his voice just a murmur, “this was a good night.”

You felt yourself smiling despite the heat, despite the way his gaze was making it hard to breathe. “Yeah, it was,” you replied, just as softly.

For a split second, it felt like everything else disappeared — the fire, the laughter of your friends, even the stars. There was just JJ, his blue eyes meeting yours, a small, hesitant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leaned just slightly closer, his shoulder brushing yours.

The air between you crackled, charged with all the words neither of you had spoken, all the things you hadn’t allowed yourself to admit. He tilted his head, his lips a mere breath away from yours, close enough that you could feel his breath warm against your cheek. And for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you. For a moment, you thought everything was about to change.

But then, he pulled back just slightly, the playful smirk returning to his face, though his eyes were softer, his voice almost a whisper.

“Almost,” he said, and you swore you heard a hint of regret in his tone.

Your heart dropped and soared all at once, caught in the tension of what could have been. You gave him a small, bittersweet smile, and replied, “Almost.”

He chuckled, looking away with that familiar ease, but you knew that he felt it too. The unspoken tension hung heavy between you, an acknowledgment of the connection you both felt but couldn’t quite act on.

As the firelight flickered, casting shadows across the beach, the two of you sat in silence, close but not quite close enough. And though neither of you said a word about it, you knew—tonight was the night that it almost worked.

[band--psycho]

Rafayel x Reader - Change Of Plans

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

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

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

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

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

L&DS Masterlist / Rafayel Masterlist / Join My Taglist

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

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

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

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

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

But today, you couldn’t. 

Today, you had a job to do. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There you are,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Thomas. 

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

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

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

“We’re going to the gallery opening?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?” 

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

And right now, that something was you. 

He was worried about you. 

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

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

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

“Because of the gallery opening?” 

You nodded simply to his question. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He knew that you were fine. 

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

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

He wanted to keep you safe. 

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

Tagglist:

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

[cailinsblog]

The Café by the Rink-Nico hischer

Nico hischer x reader

It was an ordinary Tuesday morning in Newark, New Jersey, when Nico Hischier first walked into *Maggie’s Corner Café*—a quaint, family-owned spot nestled just down the street from the Prudential Center. The place had an old-school charm, with mismatched furniture, the hum of indie music in the background, and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. It was a cozy hideaway, a far cry from the bustling streets just outside.

Y/N had been working there for a few months, ever since she moved to the city. She loved the routine—the familiar faces who came in for their daily fix of caffeine and conversation. Then, one day, Nico Hischier walked in.

He wasn’t wearing his Devils jersey, just a hoodie and a baseball cap, trying to blend in with the regulars. He ordered a black coffee with a shot of espresso. Simple. Direct.

"Coming right up," Y/N said, smiling at him without thinking too much of it. He was just another customer.

But the next day, Nico was back. And the next. Every morning, at exactly the same time, he’d walk in, and she’d already know what to make for him.

“Good morning, Neeks, your usual?” she’d say, her voice light and familiar.

Nico would chuckle, his eyes sparkling as he leaned against the counter. “You know it.”

It became their unspoken routine. While Nico’s fame followed him everywhere else, in the café, he was just a guy who loved a good cup of coffee. He’d sip it slowly, chat about the weather or the team, and then slip out just as quietly as he came.

But one morning, everything changed.

Nico walked in with an entourage. His teammates. They filled up the small café, taking seats at the corner booth and laughing amongst themselves. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t let it show. She greeted them all with a friendly smile, jotting down their coffee orders.

Nico leaned over the counter, his voice lowered but full of intention. “We’re getting coffee for the whole team today.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile still warm. “Okay... what can I get for you guys?”

Each player had their own preferences—lattes, cappuccinos, iced coffees—and Y/N moved quickly to get their orders just right. Nico stayed close, watching her work, a hint of pride in his eyes.

When she handed them their drinks, Nico pushed a stack of bills toward her. “For the team. They’ll be back. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Y/N glanced down at the money, a little stunned. “You’re... seriously?”

“Yeah.” Nico smiled, his tone serious but kind. “The boys love your coffee. Trust me, it’s not just the caffeine.”

The team’s visits became more frequent after that. The café buzzed with excitement, not just from the regulars, but from the growing crowd of fans who started coming in, hoping to catch a glimpse of a player or hear an inside joke. As word spread, the New Jersey Devils started supporting the café, covering the costs to help it stay afloat. The little family-run café that once struggled to keep the doors open was now thriving, thanks to Nico’s quiet generosity.

One afternoon, as Nico sat by the window, Y/N came over to check on him, setting down a fresh cup of coffee.

“You’re always here,” she teased, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Don’t you have a game to get to?”

“I do,” Nico replied, his voice low, “but I had to stop by. Got something for you.”

He handed her a small envelope. She took it, surprised. Inside was a note with the Devils logo on it.

“We’re sponsoring the café now,” he explained, watching her face as she processed the words. “The team wants to make sure you stay here for a long time.”

Y/N’s heart skipped. “Wait, really? You—you did this?”

Nico shrugged, a modest smile crossing his face. “It’s nothing. You’ve built something great here. We just wanted to help.”

A wave of emotion hit her. It wasn’t just about the business—it was about Nico’s belief in her, in the place she’d built with her own two hands. She couldn’t find the words to thank him, so she just nodded, touched.

And then, one evening, after another high-energy game, Nico found her sitting at the café, the place quieter than usual as the evening rush had passed. The lights above the counter were warm, the late-night hum of the city outside making everything feel a little more intimate.

“Hey,” Nico said, his voice soft. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“It was amazing,” she replied, smiling at him. “I never thought I’d be sitting courtside, watching you score.”

Nico grinned, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than usual. “I think I made a goal just for you.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You didn’t have to. But thank you. It was... special.”

There was a quiet pause, and then, without another word, Nico stepped closer. His hand gently brushed against hers on the counter. The touch was electric, simple, but full of intent.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice a little unsure, like he was testing the waters. “I know this is a little crazy, but... I like spending time with you. More than just coffee and small talk.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. “I like it too, Neeks.”

His name was a soft whisper on her lips. And that was all it took. The distance between them vanished in an instant, and Nico’s lips found hers in a kiss that was slow at first, almost tentative, as if they were both savoring the moment. It was gentle but filled with all the words neither of them had said yet—the unspoken truth of what had been building for months.

When they pulled apart, both of them were smiling, their eyes locking in a way that felt new but also familiar.

“Good morning, Neeks,” Y/N whispered, her voice soft and full of meaning. “Your usual?”

Nico chuckled, his thumb gently tracing her hand. “You know it,” he replied, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the smile on his lips.

And just like that, the coffee shop where it all began had become the place where everything changed. Where the ordinary became extraordinary. And where two people, brought together by a cup of coffee, found something more than either of them could have expected.

[buckets-and-trees]

Stella!

Your generous comments/commentary have me totally blushing and googly-eyed! Thank you for taking time to share them. 💕

I vehemently believe that had Endgame not been this "end of an era" thing in for the MCU, Steve would have stayed. What he would have done afterwards? That depends and ranges, and that's where I think post-Endgame Steve can be fun to play with, but I totally get you in that it can be hit or miss on wanting to engage with fanfic after Endgame. I always try and approach a story with at least some unshakable piece of believability - characterization, reactions, logistical structures, etc - because I need it as a reader, but I NNNNNNEEEEEEEEEED it as a writer. It's really hard for me to write something where the reasoning is "because plot". There's a mild "because plot" moment that I let happen in chapter three of this very WIP, and it's still eating at me... I'm gonna have to work it out in chapter 4 or 5 because it's bugging me! 🤣

Anyway...

The lines you pulled out - these I loved. This relationship between Pepper and Steve was really special for me to conceptualize. I think it would be a really viable and wonderful possibility that could have developed in a post-Endgame reality. Two people who knew and cared about Tony but/and also knew the frustrations of disagreeing with him on a fundamental level. And I think also some similar themes in personality - lots of responsibility, care for others, etc.

As we get further into the tory, one of the things I'm really interested in exploring is Steve feeling ike he's in the bonds tour machine again but realizing he CAN be the true captain of the ship if he takes the reigns - and it's here in the prologue, but Pepper approached him because she knows the person he is and sees leadership potential. I'm excited for the romantic plot, but the personal and political plot for me is also why I'm excited about and loving writing this story.

Thank you for supporting with your comments. You so aptly dissected exactly the what and why that I had behind each of those moments! Special story, and special to know when you and others connect back with me and are on board for this journey, too! 🩵

Red, White & True - Prologue

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers (future x curvy Millennial Female!Reader), Pepper Potts Word Count: 1.3k Summary: "There was an idea..." Words at the heart of what brought the Avengers together. Steve Rogers is no longer an Avenger, having retired after The Snap and passed his shield along to Sam Wilson, but Pepper Potts has a new idea to bring Steve back out of retirement - but in a totally different arena.

Content/Warnings: none

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

PROLOGUE

[MAY 1 - Upstate New York]

“You know I’m always happy to come out to the farm,” Steve says, rinsing the last plate and handing it to the strawberry blonde woman so she can dry and put it back on the shelf. “I love to see you and Morgan. But what do you want to talk to me about, Pepper?”

Pepper gives him a tight-lipped smile. “Let’s go to the study,” she answers, and leads the way to the back of the modern but rustic home. She takes a seat on the couch and motions for Steve to sit on the other end.

“I was sitting right here when Tony stood over there,” she nods her head toward a spot in front of Steve, “and told me he figured out the science of time travel.”

Steve’s chest aches at her words. “Pepper…”

She holds up a hand to stop him. “No, don’t apologize. I told him that was amazing and terrifying. Then we sat here together and really talked. He told me he could stop, put a pin in it, that part of him wanted to bury the idea in a lock box at the bottom of the lake. But I reminded him that we were lucky not to have lost each other in the Blip and so many others weren’t.”

She pauses for a moment and looks to the mantle where there’s a small, retired arc reactor on display. Steve waits for her to continue.

“When I started working for him, I had no idea where it would all lead. I certainly didn’t have aspirations to date my boss or become the CEO of Stark Industries. Tony will always be the love of my life, and each day that goes by, each month, each year, I miss him, but the missing hurts less. What’s left is the whisper, the urge of the legacy of everything that’s still here and what I can do with it. I haven’t been idle, but I’ve been trying to ignore my own time travel issue, if you will.”

Steve can hardly hold himself back from scoffing. “The medical research, the humanitarian initiatives, the scientific advances you’re still spearheading, it’s just not really enough if you can’t solve for world peace,” he jokes.

Pepper cocks her head slightly. “The thing is, I have an idea of where I could start on that last one.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, and he studies her face. “Okay…” he knew his voice was conveying his curiosity but also his trepidation.

“Stark Industries helps a lot of people, but there are things I can’t help no matter how hard I try there. The world is in a bigger mess than science can help, only so much can be done with humanitarian work, and there’s an area that’s haunting me because I’ve tried to stay out of it for as long as I could, and I just don’t think I can any more, not and still sleep at night.”

“Well, then let’s talk about it. You know I’m here for you, whatever you need. I don’t know how you think I can help, but clearly you’ve got an idea.”

“I know you retired one suit, but I’d like you to think about another.”

“Pep-”

“Not that kind of suit,” she interrupts. “There are still some good, decent people in politics, but money has poisoned so much of what goes on - lobbyists, special interests, politicians needing to fundraise. But I’ve got money. I could fund a campaign.”

Steve frowns. “What exactly are you proposing?”

“I need a candidate, and there’s no one I would trust more than you. I want to finance your campaign to run for President of the United States.”

Steve's eyes widen, and he feels as if the air has been sucked out of the room. His mouth opens and closes, but he can’t think of any initial words to come out. He stands abruptly, his legs carrying him to the large window overlooking the serene lake outside. The late afternoon sun casts a golden glow across the water, creating a stark contrast to the turmoil in his mind.

"President?" he finally manages to croak out, his voice barely above a whisper. He turns back to face Pepper, his brow furrowed deeply. "Pepper, I... I don't know the first thing about running a country. I've been a soldier, an Avenger, but never a politician."

Pepper leans forward, her eyes bright with determination. "That's exactly why you'd be perfect, Steve. You're not entrenched in the political machine. You have a moral compass that's unwavering, and a desire to help those who need it, no matter what.”

“And sometimes I failed.”

“It made you wiser every time.”

Steve plants his hands on his hips and sighs. “Pep, I’m just a kid from Brooklyn who wanted to serve his country.”

Pepper leans forward, her eyes intense and earnest. "And you've done that, Steve. You've served this country in ways most people can't even imagine. Think about what you could do as President. The impact you could have, the changes you could make. You've always fought for what's right, even when it wasn't easy or popular. That's exactly what this country needs right now."

Steve turns back to the window, his mind racing. He thinks of all the battles he's fought, the sacrifices he's made. Could he really make a difference from the Oval Office? Or would the political machine chew him up and spit him out?

"What about my past?" he asks, still facing the lake. "The Accords, going rogue, all of it. It would all come out in a campaign."

He hears Pepper stand and approach him. She places a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Your past is part of what makes you the right person for this, Steve. You've shown that you're willing to stand up for what you believe in, even when it costs you everything.”

He can feel Pepper's eyes on him, waiting for a response. He takes a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts.

"I appreciate your faith in me, Pepper. I really do," he begins, still facing the lake. "But this isn't like leading a team into battle. The complexities of running a country, the constant scrutiny, the compromises you have to make... I'm not sure I'm cut out for that."

"Steve, that's exactly why you'd be perfect for this. You understand the weight of responsibility. You've made tough decisions under pressure. And most importantly, you have a clear vision of what's right and what's wrong."

Steve turns to face her, his expression conflicted.

“I won’t lie to you,” she continues, “the public scrutiny will be worse, but it’s not something you’re unfamiliar with. Just like before, you’ll have people singing your praise and people ready to crucify you just for sport. But we’ll face it head-on. You won’t do any of it alone. We’ll put together a team of friends, people we trust, experts and strategists. We’ll find people outside our camp who will challenge us to make the campaign stronger. And when we get you in the White House, no president leads alone. You have a history of seeing the value in the people around you and bringing teams together. It’ll just be fighting a different fight.”

Steve thinks over her words. “In a different suit.”

She smiles. “You’ll do it?”

“Answer one more question for me.”

Pepper nods. “Anything.”

“Why do this?”

Steve sees the conviction settle in her entire demeanor, and that shift alone convinces him the rest of the way, but her words cement his resolve down to his core.

“Tony and Natasha didn’t sacrifice just to leave something broken behind. It’s time to help put things back together and try to leave a legacy of something better.”

go to chapter one: MANHATTAN & BROOKLYN

This is an idea that sparked in during the huge sleepover I hosted in July 2023, and it's been tantalizing me for a long time, but now the muse is finally ready to play with it! gee, I wonder why...

I can't wait to bring you along for the ride! This story will have 3-4 chapters, depending on where I split up the narrative. I anticipate about a chapter a week.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part Two

Part One

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Your parents work late on Friday nights, which you spend alone. Except you haven't been alone in a long time, not that you know of at least. Rafe has watched for years, he's very good at it. His idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when you catch him in your bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living. After you find the surprise he had left for you, you choose to believe that his threats were empty and try to turn him in. But, your plans are interrupted and you take an unexpected visit to Tannyhill.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the plot. Strong & descriptive language, suggestive themes, death threat(?), manipulation, kidnapping (?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Part Two is here!! I know this chapter is shorter than the previous, but I figured it's better to get what I had out. Also...I'm not sure if I like where this is going, so please share your thoughts about this part and ideas for future parts. Thank you all for the support on the first part of this story. Especially with this being my first work I've published on tumblr, I am very pleasantly surprised with how everyone has reacted to it. So, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!!

CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!

The blinding morning light shines into your room through your curtains. You sit up and rub your eyes. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand which currently reads: 10:34 am. Those sleeping pills really worked, you think. Your parents are already at the restaurant, probably just getting over with the morning rush. 

Your eyes begin to focus, your brows furrow as your eyes land on one of the posts of your footboard. You lean forward to grab the pair of panties you had just worn yesterday which are hanging from your bedpost. You’re pretty sure you had put these in your hamper last night and wait, why are they sticky…? You wonder, you examine them and come to the realization of what it is. Immediately you toss them away, that was not from you. It was your stalker, it had to be. Of course, the first night you spend alone since four weeks ago and he already breaks in. And he does this? You think about his words, “tell anyone and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you”, shivers roll down your spine. 

You hadn’t even had time to realize how horny you had been when you had woken up; and now that you have you feel so wrong. But your dream…oh god your dream. You can still remember it vividly, even more so the longer you think about it; you can see the face of the man who fucked you stupid in your dream. You know who it was, who your subconscious mind let you fuck while you slept. It was your stalker. 

Without another thought, you’re in the shower scrubbing the shame and disgust from your skin—or at least attempting to. When you feel somewhat satisfied, which also happens to be when the water begins to run cold, you finally get out. Wrapping a plush towel around your freshly clean body, you lean over the bathroom sink and wipe the condensation from the mirror leaving just enough space to see yourself. Before the glass fogs back up you’re able to see a small part of what appears to be a bruise poking out from underneath the towel wrapped around your chest. You lean in closer using one hand to re-wipe the mirror and using the other to pull your towel down past your boobs. Looking back at the bruised area on your chest, you can see that the closer you look at it, the more it looks like a hickey. You just about stumble backwards at the realization. 

You’ve had enough. After you quickly toss on some clothes, you grab your keys off your dresser with a shaky hand. You rush out towards your car and get inside, pulling out of your driveway carelessly and speeding off. When you arrive at your destination, you take a few moments to rethink this plan. You have to do this. You can’t keep living with some creep sneaking in your bedroom and touching you as you sleep. You twist the keys in the ignition and pull them out, you confidently strut towards the entrance of the building. When you feel the vibration of your phone in your pocket you pause, sighing as you reach back to take it out. When you read the random number, with the same Outer Banks area code as you, your brows furrow. Typically you wouldn’t answer a call from an unknown number, but something in you is telling you to answer. As you press the green button and bring your phone to your ear, you glance up at the building you were about to enter which reads, ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Office’. 

“Hello?” You ask warily.

After a few long seconds, the person on the other side of the line answers you. “Stop.” The man’s voice sends familiar chills down your spine. 

“Excuse me?” You respond, your voice audibly shaky. “Who…who is this?”

“C’mon pup, you already forgot what I sound like? It’s already been that long?” Your eyes widen at the realization of who this voice belongs to. You’ve heard it one other time, well one time that you remember.

As your head darts around the parking lot looking for your stalker, your voice comes out in a tone that easily betrays you, revealing your fear, “No…no…what the hell do you want?”

Rafe smirks from his truck as he watches you from afar. “I want you to turn around and get back in your car, m’kay princess? And I highly suggest you do what I want.” 

“Or what? What’s stopping me from walking in? Or from yelling for help?” You take a step closer to the building’s entrance.

“Stubborn, stubborn girl…” the man chuckles, “If you don’t get back into your fucking car right now, you’re gonna really fuckin’ wish you had just listened to me. I’m gonna get what I want no matter what, baby. You’re mine.” And with that, Rafe hangs up the phone, still watching you from a distance. 

As much as you want to just run into the building and beg for help, you know that unfortunately since you’re a pogue, the cops aren’t going to believe a single word that comes from your mouth. In their minds, all pogues are liars and thieves. And since you don’t have the slightest clue on who the man you saw in your bedroom is, you figure there’s not much they’d be able to do even if they did believe you. So you reluctantly turn back to your car and get inside. The moment your door shuts you inside, your phone buzzes yet again with another call. It’s coming from the same number, but this time you don’t answer. This was your second mistake. 

Rafe’s already pissed off. You went against his rules, you didn’t listen to him, none of this will work if you don’t listen. He thought he had been threatening enough that you’d behave, but clearly you need another scare. You need to be taught that disobeying him does nothing but hurt you more. When you don’t answer the phone when you definitely know it’s him calling, this is just the cherry on top; the icing on the cake. Rafe is fuming. 

You drive out of the parking lot, breath heavy as you stay on high alert–searching for him. A truck suddenly pulls behind you, tailing right on your ass. You can’t see through the truck's front windshield due to the dark tint. You being paranoid, step on the gas and speed up a bit, well exceeding the speed limit. A few quick seconds pass by and you jump at the sound of sirens. It doesn’t take long for you to check your rearview mirror and realize that the sirens are coming from the truck behind you, which is flashing its red and blue lights. You let out a breath of relief. You’re being pulled over yet you’re relieved because it means you aren’t being trailed by your stalker. The feeling is short lived as you flick your signal on and pull off to the side of the road. You roll your window down and shut off the engine.

The officer approaches you and goes through the typical routine and you try to calm your nerves. All sound is drowned out as you get lost in your thoughts. 

“Ma’am?”, the officer repeats. “Do you know why I’ve pulled you over today?”

The sharp and unintentionally threatening voice of the deputy snaps you out of wherever the hell it was that your mind had taken you to. “Yes, sorry sir, I…I was going over the speed limit.” You submit, wanting to get this over with. You can’t help but worry what your stalker would think if he saw this, he’d probably think you’re turning him in. But, you’re not. Really this whole thing was a misunderstanding, but you can’t explain that to the cop. 

“And why is that?” He questions you ever further, his gaze staring at you intensely. You get nervous and want to look away, but you worry that might make you look guilty of something. You’ve been pulled over before, it’s not usually a big deal for you. However you’re just so goddamn nervous and need this moment to be over. You feel like you’ve done something wrong; like you’re hiding something. But you aren’t.

“I–I thought…I just got distracted sir, wasn't thinking about speed. I apologize for the inconvenience.” You catch yourself, technically you aren’t lying; you just aren’t explaining why you were distracted. The threatening words of your stalker still echo around your head. The deputy gives a small lecture as he writes up a ticket for you. Once he gets back into his truck and drives off, you rest your head back against the seat and let out the breath you’ve been holding. When you start your car back up and finally open your eyes, you look straight out across the road. You can see a tall man leaning against a truck parked across the road, staring right at you. The familiar grin on his face has you sick to your stomach. 

After making direct eye contact with him, you pull off the side of the road and do an illegal U-turn so that you’re heading in the opposite direction, leaving the man behind. You know that he’s following you, so you drive around aimlessly until you get another call from the same unknown number. You want to decline, but you’re too afraid to face the consequences that might follow. 

“What do you want?” You ask, voice full of faux confidence. The only thing you hear on the other side of the line is a heavy breath that causes your skin to become full of goosebumps. 

After you’ve had a few moments to panic, he finally speaks, “Keep driving”. His words are not said lightly. This is undoubtedly a command, not an option. 

“Keep driving to where?” You stammer with nervousness. 

“Tannyhill.” He replies strictly. 

“Tannyhill?” You question before being able to stop yourself. You can’t help the attitude that slips into your voice. When a few more moments of silence pass, you get more and more anxious for his response. “Hello…?” You ask quietly, wondering if you lost connection. Still nothing. “Hello?” You ask again with more volume. After another minute or two, you hear the phone beep; the call disconnects. 

Why the hell does he want you to go to Tannyhill? It doesn’t make any sense. But you don’t exactly have a choice. He’s following you either way and it’s not like he doesn’t know where you live…and just about everything about your life. So, it’s probably best to just play along and obey his commands. 

When you get close to the general destination, your phone rings with yet another call. You answer, already knowing who it's from. This time you don’t speak first, you wait to hear what he has to say. It takes a few moments, almost like he’s trying to wait long enough that you’ll talk. The silence starts to get unbearably awkward, but your mind is set on waiting for him to speak and Rafe doesn’t have the time to wait; having to give you directions and all. When he finally talks he doesn’t greet you. His voice breaking the silence startles you as he instructs you with the directions to get wherever it was he was forcing you to go. 

“Wait…turn left h-here?” You ask, confused at his directions. You had missed the beginning of what he said since you had to collect yourself after being frightened. 

He sighs in impatience, “No dammit, the next one. Were you not listening?” 

“I…no I-I was listening–” you stumble over your words as you turn onto the street he wanted you to. 

“Bullshit. You need to learn how to fucking listen to me, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, trying to focus on remembering the directions he gave you, it only serves to piss him off even further. “Huh?! Don’t you?!” He shouts into the phone as he follows behind you.

You whine in fear, “No..I can listen. I promise I can listen to you.” You practically beg. “J-just tell me where to go?”

Rafe directs you to his house, which you of course recognize as the Cameron’s mansion. You’ve heard about the Cameron’s, but you wouldn’t be able to point them out in a crowd or anything. Besides from the father, Ward Cameron, whom you’ve seen on the news several times. Is he a Cameron? As you park in the large driveway, you rack your brain trying to recall the name of the Cameron son. 

His truck parks behind you, blocking your car in. He quickly kills the engine and exits his vehicle. You don’t notice him walking up to you until he’s yanking your car door open and pulling you out by the arm.

“R-rafe?” You mumble insecurely. He pauses to look at you, chuckling at your words. He mutters a quick ‘smart girl’ before retightening his grip on your arm and continuing to pull you into the large mansion. You start to cry, getting overwhelmed as you imagine the many possible scenarios that may occur. “P-please,” you manage to choke out. “What do you want?”

Unlike the last time you cried to him, this time he doesn’t stop. He drags you up one level of the large, spiral staircase; pulling you into his bedroom. As soon as you see the bed, you’re already feeling it beneath your back when he shoves you down just a few seconds later. As if you hadn’t already embarrassed yourself enough, you can’t help the tears that begin to stream down your flushed cheeks at a flooding rate. 

“Wait…no, please, please!” The way you keep shouting and choking back sobs causes you to gag from how worked up you’ve gotten yourself. All the Cameron son does in response is lean back to get a full view of you as a smug grin spreads across his face. “Please, I—oh god, I’m gonna be sick…” You mumble, which is quickly followed by another gag that interrupts your constant sobs. 

Rafe snakes his hand up from your arm to your hair, wrapping his first tightly around a large section of it. He tugs on your hair to force your head to look up at him, causing a small whine to escape your lips. “Shhh…baby, shhh…” He mumbles, his ‘worried’ tone working to oppose his previous amused expression. “Calm down, alright? Calm down. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want, m’kay pretty girl?” The way he says that last part…you’ve never heard his voice sound like that before. You didn’t even think he was capable of talking in that tone. He sounds like he might actually truly care about you. You’re relieved; maybe even a bit…comforted by the fact that he might be telling the truth about not doing anything you don’t want. Well, besides having you basically held captive in his home. 

“What…what are you gonna do?” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to catch your breath so you can calm down.

“I just wanna talk to you baby. Alright?” Rafe mumbles your name into your ear, allowing you to feel his hot breath against the side of your face. Immediately you’re taken back to the first time you had met him, in your bedroom a few weeks back. You try to push that aside and bring yourself back to the present; the memory only brings back the feelings of complete and utter fear you experienced at that time. Not that the present was any better, hell, it was worse. 

Hesitantly, you nod. He waits a few minutes to speak; waiting for you to catch your breath. Once you’re calmer, at least on the outside, he finally starts to talk. “I wanted to talk about my proposition…” He looks down at you, bringing his hand up to cautiously run through your hair. “Last time I got cut short…remember that?”

You nod. “I…I tried to warn you my parents would come home. I-I swear I didn’t tell them anything.” You say frantically, trying to prove your innocence.

“Hey, shh…it’s okay babe. I know. I know.” Rafe speaks slowly, his eyes never leaving your lips. He pauses to momentarily dart his tongue out to wet his parted lips. “I know. You haven’t told…you’ve been a good girl and listened to me, hm? Haven’t you baby? Haven't you been a good girl?” 

You nod frantically. “I…I’d never turn you in…” The false seductiveness in your voice turns him off, if that’s even possible. 

He pulls back from you and sighs, “Shut up.” He runs a rough hand over his buzzed head and begins to quickly pace across his bedroom. 

“B-but you wanted to talk…” You remind him. The way his attitude was constantly shifting in great amounts had you furrowing your brows as you tried to figure him out. 

“Yeah, I do. But not to a goddamn filthy, lying whore.” He retorts, a large grin appearing on his face while he watches your beautiful features move on your face, displaying your thoughts  as you take in his words. “Just be yourself alright? I can always tell when you’re not you.” He says almost sincerely. “I want…I need you to want this. Don’t try to pull that fake crap on me ever again, yeah?” 

Immediately you nod. “I…yes-”, you stammer, instantly regretting even trying to talk in the first place. Rafe chuckles, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He stops pacing and lets out a long sigh, turning to face you again. His steps pause when he’s standing just before you. 

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “I really need this to work, okay…? This is good, this can be good for the both of us. I can help you; we can help each other, baby.” A silent tear rolls down your cheek from the fear of what’s to come. “I know…I know I messed up, alright? I know. But, you don’t have to be scared, baby. It’s all gonna be okay.” He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Please…I just wanna go home, let me go home!” Your cries are ugly, and very, very real. The fear in your voice only worries him. Worries him that you may never get past this. But you have to. You don’t have another option. And he really, really doesn’t want to have to hurt you. That was never his intention. 

“But you are home, baby. You are home.” He mutters as his fingers brush over your cheeks, smearing your tears. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes slowly move up to meet his. This cannot be happening. Why is this happening? You think.

“No…please I…just let me go home. I won’t tell. I promise I won’t. I’ll…I’ll never tell anyone about any of this okay, I’ll never say anything about you.”

“I can’t do that, baby…you know I can’t do that.”

“Why not? I swear, I’ll never ever breathe a word of this to anyone.” You say enticingly.

Rafe sits down besides you, causing the mattress to dip and make you lean towards him. He puts an arm around you and his hand lands on the back of your head, pulling it into his chest.

He leans down to speak into your ear while his hand pets over your hair as you cry into his chest. “Because I need you baby, I need you. And I need you to let me take care of you, yeah? I know…I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Just trust me okay…we’re gonna be so good together baby.” He tugs at your hair, gently guiding your face to look up at him. “Just listen to me and nothing will happen, I don’t wanna have to…do anything. I just need to know that you’ll listen to what I say.” Immediately you nod, going along with what he says. He tugs on your hair harder, eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips. “Ah ah, I know you can talk. You’re a big girl, now fucking act like it.” He says forcefully.

“I-I’m gonna listen, I’ll listen to you, just please, please don’t hurt me.”

He smiles softly as his eyes dart across your face, unable to pick a feature to focus on, everything about you is just too damn perfect. “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you, not as long as you listen.” His grip loosens on your hair again. “But you’ll be begging for it soon enough.” Rafe’s whispers are enough to make your sobs start again; in which he pulls your head back into his chest. Your tears soak into his shirt as you have no choice but to cry into him.

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable. This part took quite a bit for me to finish, since life has been a bit busy and I haven't had much time to plan or write. I apologize for the short chapter, I'll try my best to make up for it with the next part! I never really feel done with anything and as I said before I'm not sure if I'm a fan of this part or not. So, if you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them in future parts. And there's not much I won't write!

[dbdaghostmas]

Thank you all for the outpouring of support for this event! Your excitement is making ME excited! 💜

Prompts will be posted this Thursday, November 14th. Stay tuned!

[nhlclover]

STAY AWAY FROM JULIET! JACK DRURY

pairing: brind'amour!daughter!reader x jack drury

summary: caught between your love for jack and your father's strict rules about dating players, you find yourself navigating the thrill and weight of a secret romance.

warnings: secret relationship, forbidden relationship, reader is coaches daughter + teammates sister, pretending that skylar isn't with the ahl team in chicago and is on the roster.

wc: 3.80k

notes: jack drury fic! i don't know a ton about him off the ice so i hope this is good. thank u to the anon who requested!

As everyone knows, the last thing you ever want to do is cross Rod Brind’Amour—a fact you understand all too well as his daughter. That’s why it’s a surprise, even to you, that you ended up in a relationship with Jack Drury, one of his players, breaking the strict ‘no fraternizing with the team’ rule he’d always imposed on you. You would feel bad for disobeying your father if it weren’t for the fact that you were head over heels for Jack.

Keeping the relationship under wraps wasn’t easy, but you both agreed it was for the best. The risk of your dad finding out — and the reaction that you knew would result from that — was enough to keep you both cautious. Growing up, you'd heard countless stories from your dad’s former teammates and players about his fierce dedication and unwavering standards. Those standards extended beyond the ice, especially when it came to you and Skylar.

It wasn’t that Jack wasn’t good enough. Far from it. He was everything your dad would probably want for you—loyal, kind, respectful, with a work ethic that rivaled your father’s own. But the idea of dating someone on the team went against every guideline Rod had set, a boundary he made clear for you and Skylar growing up.

Despite the careful hiding, sneaking around brought a thrill you hadn’t expected. Late-night meet-ups after practice, stolen kisses in hidden corridors, and text messages that had to be deleted as soon as you read them were all part of the secret that bound you and Jack even closer. And, to your surprise, you found that these stolen moments made you fall for him even more.

At first, sneaking around with Jack felt almost like a game. You both laughed about the lengths you’d go to keep everything hidden—timing phone calls to avoid your dad, coordinating schedules so you could “bump into each other” outside the rink without raising suspicion, and finding creative ways to communicate without leaving a digital trail. Every stolen glance or quick touch that no one else noticed made your heart race. The secrecy added an exhilarating spark, something just for the two of you that no one else could touch.

You joked with Jack about the lengths you went to: how you’d pretend not to notice each other at team events, how he’d throw you a subtle wink from across a room when no one else was looking, and how you’d meet up in empty stairwells of the Lenovo Centre. Jack always kept things light-hearted, his playful grin reassuring you that as long as you were together, it would be worth the risk.

But as the months passed, the thrill started to wear thin, replaced by a longing for something simpler. The constant need to look over your shoulder or keep your voice low when you talked about him to your friends began to feel more like a weight. You’d catch yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to hold his hand in public or just have him over for dinner without the worry of your dad or brother finding out.

And it wasn’t just the sneaking around that was exhausting; it was how much you missed out on. When the team had get-togethers, you couldn’t be by his side, even though you wanted to support him. Sometimes, he’d mention a charity event or team dinner, and you’d have to laugh it off, pretending it didn’t sting that you couldn’t be there openly. As his career milestones came and went, you wanted to celebrate with him, to be the one cheering the loudest. Instead, you found yourself watching from afar, silently, wishing things could be different.

And now not only was the hiding becoming a weight between you and Jack, it was getting harder and harder to manage, and the cracks began to show. You could feel the pressure building, the constant vigilance required to keep everything under wraps growing harder to manage.

There were moments when the secrecy felt like it was taking more than it was giving. Every time you saw Jack after practice, there was a part of you that wanted to shout your feelings from the rooftops. But, instead, you shared a fleeting smile or a brief touch, both of you hyper-aware of every passing moment. Whenever you were at the rink and you’d run into your dad, your stomach would twist in knots, and you’d pray that he wouldn’t catch sight of Jack or—worse—make the connection. The thought of your father, who had built his career on discipline and loyalty, discovering that you were breaking one of his cardinal rules, made your heart race with a mixture of dread and guilt.

But it wasn’t just your dad that made the situation complicated. It was Skylar. Your brother, who had always been protective of you, was starting to catch on to your avoidance. The way you always seemed to have an excuse to leave early when he invited you to hang out, the way you deflected questions about who you were spending time with outside of work — Skylar had always been perceptive, and he was no fool. You could see it in his eyes. He’d give you those knowing glances whenever you seemed a little too distracted, or when your phone would buzz with a text message from Jack and you’d panic, quickly pocketing it before he saw.

The strain was becoming too much, and you were growing worried that it wouldn’t be long before one of them, probably Skylar, would piece it together. Every time you met Jack in a secluded corner of the rink or snuck away for a quick coffee, there was a part of you that dreaded being caught. If your dad or brother saw you and Jack together, even for a moment, all your carefully constructed walls would come crashing down.

One night, with your dad out for a dinner meeting with Eric Tulsky and a few of the Hurricanes’ execs, you’d invited Jack over, excited to finally let him into your world a little deeper. You’d barely gotten him through the door before you were wrapped around each other, muffling laughter and eager whispers as you stumbled up the stairs to your bedroom. For once, he was in your space—somewhere that felt like an extension of yourself, familiar and intimate. Jack looked around, taking in the room he’d only heard about: the bulletin board crowded with photos, ticket stubs, and other keepsakes; shelves overflowing with books and childhood mementos; the whole room exuding a soft, cozy warmth.

As he wandered, his fingers traced along your cluttered desk, a slight smile on his lips as he absorbed the details. Then, his gaze landed on a photo pinned to the board, and he plucked it down before you could stop him. “Oh my gosh,” he teased, grinning as he held it up to inspect. “You with glasses, pigtails, and… are those sequins on your jeans?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you tried to grab the picture back. “It was a phase. And, anyway, I don’t think Mr. ‘neon-green frosted tips for the playoffs’ has any room to talk about style choices.”

He gasped, mock-offended, holding the photo just out of reach. “Hey, that was iconic. This, on the other hand…” He squinted at it, chuckling. “I need to know how many days you rocked the bedazzled denim look.”

With a smirk, you stepped closer, sliding your hands up his chest, pinning him with a look that was half-daring, half-teasing. “Do you really want to spend tonight making fun of my middle school fashion choices? Or… maybe we could get back to what we’re really here for?”

Jack’s laughter faded, replaced by that familiar, mischievous glint. He leaned down, voice softer, warmer. “Alright, you win,” he murmured, his hands settling around your waist. “You’re way more distracting than a photo ever could be.” With a gentle smile, he placed the photo back on the board and turned fully to you, and as he drew you in.

Your hands drifted to his shoulders, his fingers trailing up your sides, leaving little goosebumps in their wake. You pulled Jack to your bed, easing him back onto the plush comforter, propping one leg on either side of his hips. Jack’s lips brushed softly along your neck, and you tangled your fingers in his hair, feeling the closeness of him, the quiet thrill of sneaking him into your space. His hands traced under the hem of your top, tugging it up, and you broke apart just long enough to pull off your shirts, casting them aside as you reconnected in a kiss that deepened, stealing your breath.

You were so wrapped up in him, so blissfully unaware, that the sudden slam of a car door outside might as well have been thunder. You jolted, pulling away, and Jack’s lips left a small, bewildered whimper at the abrupt loss of contact. “Did you hear that?” you whispered, heart racing.

“Hear what?” he asked, clearly not wanting to hear anything but the steady hum of the moment between you.

You slipped off his lap, crept to the window, and pulled the curtain back just enough to peek through. There it was — your dad’s SUV parked once again in the driveway. Panic clawed at your stomach as you hissed, “Shit!”

Jack’s face went pale as the sound of keys jingling met your ears from downstairs. His expression mirrored yours — frozen panic — as he took in the narrow confines of your room, seeming to realize in real time that hiding nearly six feet of hockey player was no small feat.

“Closet,” you whispered sharply, tugging him in that direction. He stifled a laugh, squeezing himself into the cramped space, giving you a look that was somewhere between grateful and bewildered as you shut the doors.

You dashed back to the bed, frantically tugging your shirt back on and running a hand through your hair, grabbing your phone and slipping on your headphones. You quickly ran back to the closet, cracking open the doors. “Stay quiet,” you said. “Don’t come out until I come and get you and the coast is all clear.”

Just as you returned to the bed and threw the blanket over your legs, the door creaked open, and there was your dad, standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Hey,” he said, pausing, taking in the sight of you with the unmistakable air of someone who knew more than he was letting on. “Who were you talking to?”

You gave him what you hoped was an effortlessly casual smile, lifting your phone to show you were on a call. “Oh, just a friend from school. She’s, uh, going through some stuff, so I’m keeping her company on the phone,” you replied, praying he couldn’t hear your pulse thundering in your chest.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it entirely but also not wanting to pry too deeply. “Right, okay,” he said slowly. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. But maybe keep it down, alright?”

You nodded, trying to look as unaffected as possible. “Will do,” you said with a small, too-casual smile, watching as he lingered for one last beat before closing the door.

As soon as you heard his footsteps fade down the hallway, you practically collapsed back onto the bed in relief. After a beat, the closet door creaked open, and Jack stepped out, eyes wide and lips pressed tightly together as he tried not to laugh.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, still grinning, “I thought I was going to get caught.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, half-relieved, half-ready to burst into laughter at the situation. "I thought we were both done for," you muttered, letting out a soft, breathy laugh as Jack joined you on the bed. He flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling, eyes still gleaming with barely restrained laughter.

Jack propped himself up on one elbow, glancing over at you. "You know, one day, we’re going to have to tell people. I mean, if I got caught hiding in your closet tonight, I don’t think I could ever live it down." He chuckled, but his words held a trace of seriousness, hinting at the future you both knew was looming.

You sighed, the humor fading a bit as reality set back in. "I know," you admitted quietly. "I just… I worry about how my dad and Skylar will react. I mean, they know you as a player, as a teammate. But as… as the guy I’m with?" You trailed off, unsure of how to put your feelings into words.

Jack reached over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his expression softening. “They know me as the guy who’s dedicated to the team, who works hard. And I’d be dedicated to you, too. That’s all they need to know. Besides…” He smirked a little, trying to lighten the moment. “Skylar and I have been in a locker room together more than enough. He probably knows more about me than he ever wanted to.”

You laughed, shaking your head. "You don’t know my dad like I do. He’s seen me as his little girl for so long. And Skylar, well… he’s overprotective." You glanced down, picking at the blanket as the weight of their potential reactions settled on you. "I just don’t want them to think… I don’t know, that we’re crossing some sort of line."

“What? Rod would never overreact to anything!” Jack said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. You give him a shove but recognize that Jack would likely know exactly how your dad would react to finding out about the two of you.

Jack let out a small, sympathetic smile, and his fingers found yours, intertwining gently as he looked into your eyes. "Hey," he said softly, "no matter how it goes, I’m here. Even if Rod loses his mind or Skylar thinks he needs to 'protect' you from me — I'm not going anywhere." His voice was steady, his eyes holding a quiet confidence that made you feel both reassured and grounded.

You squeezed his hand, feeling your heart swell at his words. “You really mean that?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his eyes steady and sincere. “I want them to know that you’re safe with me, that I’d do anything to make you happy. They deserve that reassurance, and I want to give it to them.” He paused, a playful glint returning to his gaze. “But maybe not when I’m sneaking out of your closet at two in the morning.”

You both burst out laughing again, the tension breaking as the comfort of the moment settled around you. Pulling Jack close, you rested your head on his shoulder, a sense of peace washing over you.

“One day” you murmured, almost to yourself. “But not tonight.”

Jack nodded, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle squeeze. “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll be here.”

As the days went on, though, the secrecy only grew harder. You’d thought you could keep your relationship under wraps with a bit of careful planning and a few white lies, but you hadn’t anticipated how deeply you’d crave being able to share your life with Jack openly. Every time you’d pass him in the halls of the Lenovo Centre having to pass by him like you didn’t know him as anyone more than one of your dad's players. Or every quick squeeze of his hand when no one was looking. It was beginning to feel like a delicate balancing act — one slip, and it would all come tumbling down.

Your dad had started to notice your little “disappearances,” the times you’d claim to be studying with friends or heading out to run an errand but were actually meeting Jack. And Skylar, perceptive as ever, kept teasing you, asking if your newfound happiness was because the Canes were doing so well or if someone was responsible for it. You’d brush it off with a laugh, but deep down, you knew it couldn’t go on like this.

So when Jack suggested a simple date — just the two of you at a small, out-of-the-way restaurant for dinner — you felt a rush of relief. No sneaking, no hiding in closets, just a normal evening where you could enjoy each other’s company without the pressure of prying eyes. The restaurant was quiet, candlelit, and tucked away, and for once, you almost allowed yourself to believe you were truly alone.

The two of you slipped into comfortable conversation, laughing over the menu as Jack exaggerated his disgust at any mention of seafood, and you felt that familiar warmth, that thrilling ease that made you wish every night could be like this. But as you raised your glass for another sip, you noticed Jack’s gaze shift from your face, over your shoulder, to somewhere behind you, his smile suddenly faltering.

Before you could turn around, Jack’s hand took yours that was resting on the table, giving a gentle squeeze, trying to soothe you as he leaned in and whispered, “Don’t freak out, okay? But I think… your dad and Skylar just walked in.”

Your heart plummeted, eyes wide as your head whipped around to confirm Jack’s words. Sure enough, there they were, standing with some friends of your family. They scanned the room, not seeming to have noticed you yet, but your carefully secret relationship was now hanging in the balance.

You quickly turned back to Jack, lifting your menu as if it could shield you from view, heart hammering in your chest. “Of all the restaurants…” you muttered under your breath, feeling the moment's weight settle heavily.

Jack looked at you with steady, gentle eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. If they see us, we’ll handle it,” he said softly, his thumb brushing soothing circles over the back of your hand. “No more hiding, right?”

You nodded, dropping the menu back to the table, feeling the words sink in and taking comfort in Jack’s reassuring touch. You both kept your heads down, focusing on each other and praying the waiter would come quickly to take your orders. But a few moments later, footsteps approached, and you knew it was too late to keep pretending.

“Hey, you two,” came a familiar voice. You looked up to see your dad and Skylar standing by your table. Your dad’s expression was stoic, with no reaction to the sight of you two showing. Skylar, however, had a shit-eating grin on his face. There was no escaping it now.

With a deep breath, you tightened your hold on Jack’s hand and mustered a smile. “Hi, Dad. Hi, Sky,” you greeted, hoping your voice didn’t sound as nervous as you felt.

Skylar folded his arms, raising an eyebrow as he glanced between you and Jack. “Care to explain?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. You glared at your older brother who was clearly finding enjoyment in this.

Jack cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter. “Sir, I’d… We’ve been seeing each other for a while now, and we didn’t want you to hear about it from someone else. We just… wanted to be careful with how it might look, with the team and all.”

Your dad’s face remained unreadable for a moment, eyes flickering from you to Jack as he processed. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and you held your breath, waiting for some sign of his reaction. Finally, he sighed, his expression softening slightly as he looked back at you.

“As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters,” he said, his tone calm but sincere. “It’s important that you’re with someone who respects you — someone who’s going to be good to you.”

A wave of relief washed over you, and you felt your shoulders relax as you smiled. “Thank you, Dad.”

You turned to look at Skylar who was now eyeing Jack, suddenly serious. Finally, he huffed, breaking the silence. “Alright, alright… I know Jack’s a good guy. But you know I’ll kick his ass if he ever does anything to hurt you, right?” He shot Jack a warning look, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Jack laughed softly, nodding. “Understood. I’ll make sure you don’t have to.”

A smile broke across your face, and you felt the last of your fears dissolve. “Thank you, both of you,” you said, your voice soft with gratitude. “I just… I don’t want this to affect anything between you guys as teammates or between you guys as coach and player.”

Your dad nodded thoughtfully, glancing at Jack. “We’ll figure it out. Just promise me you’ll be open with us going forward, okay? No more hiding in closets or pretending to study at friends’ houses.”

Your smile dropped, a bright red hue flashing across your cheeks as you remembered shoving Jack into your cramped closet a month ago when your dad suddenly came home. “You knew?”

Your dad raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement breaking through his usually serious demeanor. “I’m your father. Of course, I knew,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Also, he left his team jacket on your desk chair. It says Drury on the shoulder.”

Skylar snorted, unable to contain his laughter. “The closet? Really?” he teased, shaking his head.

“What did you want me to do? Tell him to jump out the window?” you argued.

Your dad rolled his eyes but softened, his gaze landing on you both with a newfound acceptance. “Just… next time, try a little honesty instead of extreme hiding tactics. I’d rather know than worry about you sneaking around.” His voice was gentle, a tone he rarely used outside of family moments, and it only reassured you that he was really okay with this.

You nodded, feeling more at ease than you had in months. “I promise. No more hiding, Dad.”

Your dad and Skylar exchanged a look, something unspoken but approving passing between them before they glanced back at you. “Alright, we’ll leave you two to your dinner,” your dad said, giving you a warm nod. “But I expect to see him at dinner on Sunday night and be properly introduced to your boyfriend.”

As they walked away, you and Jack exchanged a relieved laugh, your hands still intertwined. Jack lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Well, that went better than expected,” he murmured, his eyes twinkling with both relief and affection.

You smiled, feeling lighter than ever. “Yeah, I think we’re officially in the clear.”

Jack leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “So, does that mean no more closets?”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “No more closets,” you agreed.