#this is all i’m going to talk about all fucking week guys

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Mama, I’m in love with a criminal 4

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, prisoner!Sukuna, modern au, no curse au, dead dove, vivid descriptions of violence including murder and sexual assault, dark romance trope, angst, read at your own discretion

Synopsis: Sukuna is in prison because of you. He's ordered to undergo weekly counseling sessions. Talking to his counselor about you, it's apparent that his obsession with you is quite concerning.

An: Reminder, this story is dark. Take care of your mental health first. Sexual assault will be briefly mentioned, but it will not be written about in detail. Sukuna is diagnosed with borderline personality disorder at the end of this session. I want to make it clear that it is not my intention to offend anyone with this diagnosis or demonize this diagnosis. It is used to make him feel more real, and it furthers the plot. Hope you guys enjoy… only one last part after this one <3.

Session one. | Session two. | Session three. | Session four.

The counselor hadn't had time to do any more digging into Sukuna's case files this week. It was the end of the year — holidays were coming up, and that meant that annual paperwork on all of his patients were due.

His caseload was becoming too much to manage all on his own. He was thankful that the jail was finally consulting him about hiring a social worker to help out with the workload.

Checking Sukuna's chart briefly, the counselor inhaled sharply. It was finally time to talk about the crime that landed him in prison. Sure, the counselor could drag this out. He could talk about every petty theft or assault case Sukuna had been charged with, but those were pointless to talk about in the grand scheme of things.

As if on cue, a large buzzer sounded, and Sukuna was shoved into the room with the counselor before promptly being locked inside. He was shackled as always, but his demeanor was different today.

He didn't have that calloused grin or careless attitude. He sat down on the couch with a small grunt before immediately laying his head back against the piece of furniture. His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly.

It was as if Sukuna knew what the counselor was going to bring up today.

"How are you holding up this week, Sukuna?" The counselor asked. Normally, they'd skip pleasantries, but the counselor sensed that Sukuna needed some priming before he got to talking.

"How am I holding up?" Sukuna echoed with a humorless laugh before shaking his head. "Don't ask stupid fucking questions. This is a prison not a 10 hour shift at a fucking factory."

Well, so much for priming.

"You don't want to talk about her today?" The counselor asked, tapping his pen against his paper. "Or is there something you're not wanting to relive."

"I can talk about her until my lungs give out." Sukuna muttered in a pained tone. He rubbed his face with his hands, cuffs clinking around in the process. He groaned as he put his hands down. "Tell me what you think I don't want to relive." He finally demanded, turning the tables on the counselor.

The counselor widened his eyes as he was put on the spot. He immediately avoided Sukuna's lifeless glare. He was definitely testing him right now — seeing if he kept up on his homework.

"You're not afraid of reliving your own pain. You don't want to relive mouse's pain." The counselor finally muttered out, using his knowledge of Sukuna to help guide him through his analysis.

Sukuna grunted in response, and the counselor took it as approval to keep going. "You weren't there to protect her. You feel like it's a failure on your end that what happened to her happened."

Sukuna's fists clenched, and his jaw tightened, but this didn't feel like his typical anger. It wasn't directed at anyone else besides himself.

"You got there a little too late. You saw what was happening to her, and you went into a blind rage. Your normal brutal, methodical, unique style to killing your victims went out the window. He needed to die right then, didn't he?" The counselor pressed on. He kept his hands on his lap to defend himself in case he said anything that teetered the line. Though, there really was no defending himself against Sukuna's hulking figure.

"He didn't deserve to live." Sukuna's voice was a low growl. His heart was pounding against his ribcage as he was reminded of his last moments with you before he incarceration.

The prisoner suddenly reached out, and the counselor flinched far back into his seat upon reflex, but Sukuna was faster. He grabbed the counselor by his dress shirt, and he patted around on his body. "I know you record these sessions, doc. I want this next part to be off the record." He demanded as he continually searched for a recording device.

The counselor tried fighting him off, but Sukuna was still stronger while he was handcuffed. "Fine-! Here! All you had to do was ask for this part to be off the record." The counselor shouted before he threw his pen over to Sukuna.

His pen had a secret recording device hidden inside, and it was promptly cut off when Sukuna snapped the pen in half without a second thought. He then threw it at the wall, ensuring that nothing would be listening in on what he was about to say.

Sitting back in his seat, he let out another stressed sigh. His twin brother's murder was a well kept secret thanks to his skills of covering up evidence, but this was his best kept secret. It physically pained him to say the words out loud.

"Mouse wanted a normal... domestic life, and I wanted to give her whatever she asked for. I started an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop, and I worked at a bike shop on the side so she could focus on figuring out what she wanted to do with life." He started off slowly. The counselor was still rattled from their physical altercation, but he was already enthralled by Sukuna's story telling abilities.

"I didn't care what I did as long as I got to be in her life. Coming home after sixteen hour shifts felt like paradise when I got to slide into bed next to her. She was the only piece of heaven that I'll ever see." Sukuna went on. His eyes were aimed at the broken pen in the corner, fully reliving what it was like to just be yours.

"Your tattoos... those came from your apprenticeship?" The counselor asked, finally taking the time to ask about the markings that covered Sukuna's body and face.

The prisoner looked at his arms and shook his head. "No, these came from over the years." He said as he slowly rose from the chair. He unbuttoned the jumpsuit and shoved it down around his waist to reveal a white undershirt that covered his broad, muscular torso.

Sukuna clearly had nothing else better to do other than work out while he was incarcerated.

The marking covered his neck, shoulders, arms, back, and chest. The counselor marveled at them for a minute, wondering how long Sukuna had to sit in a chair for all of them to be completed.

"As a gift for finishing my apprenticeship, Mouse and I got tattoos together." Sukuna explained before he raised his undershirt up. Right there on his right ribcage — a detailed portrait style tattoo of just your eyes stared back at the counselor.

Your eyes alone could tell a million words. They were gates directly to your soul. The counselor didn't know what you looked like. Your face had been scrubbed from every news outlet that reported on Sukuna's case, and the counselor couldn't remember if he saw your face in court or not.

"Does she have your eyes tattooed as well?" The counselor asked. It was the safer option because he was sure that Sukuna would probably kill him if he complimented your eyes.

"She had this-" he gestured to the tattoo that was placed on his forehead directly between his eyes, "tattooed on her back, and I tattooed my name across her ribcage in the same place I have her eyes tattooed." Sukuna explained before he redressed himself and sat back down.

"She also has a tiny mouse tattooed behind her ear. All of her work is done by me." He explained.

"Wait- You didn't come up with mouse on the spot?" The counselor asked. "That nickname actually has any meaning?"

Sukuna snickered from the counselor's assumptions. "Nah. When we were little and she wasn't talking to me yet, I use to tease her and say she was as quiet as a church mouse."

The counselor gave a small laugh, and he allowed for the silence to fill the room once more, signaling that Sukuna should get back on topic.

"I was working late most nights, and I told her it'd be worth it once I started making some real money. I just wanted to give her the life she never had. I could've provided her with peace." Sukuna explained, his eyes going back dull as all the fun was sucked right back out of the conversation.

"One night, she wanted to surprise me with my favorite dinner. I always told her not to go out alone at night. She usually waited for me to get off work if she needed to go to the store, but I guess she was worried about burdening me... foolish girl." He muttered as he stared down at his palms.

The counselor swallowed harshly, knowing what was coming next. He normally wasn't so emotionally invested in his client's lives, but Sukuna had a way of drawing him in. He was rooting for you even if he knew the result of what happened that night.

"She wasn't stupid though. Mouse was resourceful. She had a heart of gold, but she wasn't naive. She took one of my blade's with her, and she concealed it in her purse." Sukuna explained as his hands picked at the unhealed scabs on his knuckles once again.

"You don't have to go into detail. I'm honestly not sure if I could stomach that-" The counselor admitted. He knew it was unprofessional. He was supposed to be able to shoulder his clients' trauma, but he just didn't know if he could live with Sukuna's version of what happened to you.

"On her way home, that fucking... coward grabbed her. I don't- I don't know how far he got. She wouldn't tell me. I don't know if it was more for my sake or for hers." A shaky breath left his lips. He was grinding his teeth so hard that the counselor was even cringing.

"She managed to send me her location, and I immediately knew something was wrong. I just left the shop — didn't bother locking up or even telling my client where I was going. By the time I got there, my little mouse's clothes were ripped. She was a mess. He was laid out on the ground. The motherfucker died from a few stab wounds, how fucking pathetic."

"What." The counselor said as his jaw dropped. All this time, he was told that Sukuna was only caught because he killed your assailant in a crime of passion, but that wasn't the truth. He had never been baffled like this for his entire career.

"Mouse isn't some defenseless damsel in distress. You think I'd let her walk around if I hadn't taught her self defense?" Sukuna asked as he looked up at the counselor. His jaw was tight and his gaze was narrow. "I'd be damned if I let her walk around without anyway to defend herself after the shit that went down with her dad and his temper."

The counselor stayed silent. Everything he had thought about Sukuna's final murder had been a lie. He didn't kill the poor bastard out of a crime of passion. You had killed your attacker, and Sukuna took the fall for it.

Everything he had done thus far was to protect you — all of it. It was all for you.

"How did any of this end up pinned on you?" The counselor carefully asked while he was still trying to wrack his brain. A part of him wondered if Sukuna was lying, but there was no way Sukuna would lie and risk you getting into trouble for a crime that he committed.

"I have been involved in the justice system for so long. I know how crooked everything is. The district attorneys and judges aren't trying cases fairly and protecting the balance of the justice system. They're doing whatever they can to appease the politicians who have them in their back pockets. They'll sentence a serial rapist to 25 years in jail, but they'll sentence a woman defending herself from a rapist to life in jail. There's no justice in this system."

"I wasn't going to let that shit happen to mouse. I wasn't going to let her name be ruined because she defended herself and did what she had to do. I wasn't going to let her trauma be drug through court. She has so much ahead of her, and I-" Sukuna paused to take a ragged breath. It had been a long time since he had spewed out words so fast.

This was the first time he had ever been able to talk about this to anyone. Everyone fully believes that Sukuna happened to catch the guy assaulting you, and he killed him right then and there. No one knew that he hadn't been there to protect you. You had to resort to protecting yourself, and he fucking loathed the thought of you having to bear the weight of that sick son of a bitch's death on your shoulders.

For two years, he carried this weight around. It had been two years since he was sentenced. Two years since he last saw you.

He let a tear slip past his cheek. Just one -- he didn't bother to wipe it away. It was gone as soon as it had appeared.

"Take your time." The counselor murmured empathetically. This was a major break through with Sukuna. It was something that proved he wasn't a sociopath.

Sukuna could feel emotions. Perhaps, he felt them more than everyone else did. His anger was immediately rage. He was never just sad. Instead, he'd plummet into an unbeatable depression. His happiness felt like pure euphoria, and when he loved, he loved unconditionally hard.

He used you as an anchor for his tidal waves of emotions, basing them on how you acted — the girl who didn't speak and wore a mask around other people. You two were truly made for each other.

If soulmates existed, you two would be the leading example.

Sukuna took another ragged breath, taking just another second to collect his thoughts. "She has so much ahead of her, and I only had her." He managed to grit out.

"Before she could even think about trying to stop me, I ripped the gloves off that I had been using to tattoo my client. I grabbed the blade from her, and I stabbed him 32 times. I brutalized his body to make sure neither the coroner nor the forensic pathologist would be able to distinguish her stab wounds from my own." He explained solemnly. His eyes were void of any emotion while talking about what he did to your assaulter.

"The police were looking for anything to pin on me anyways. They always had thought I got off easy on my juvenile cases, and they suspected I had something to do with Jin's disappearance. They just couldn't prove anything. So, when this opportunity fell into their lap, they ran with it."

"Why didn't you try to hide the body to get away with it?" The counselor asked. Sukuna's crimes were those of cold calculation, and the fact that he made sure to strip off his gloves to taint the blade with his fingerprints proved that he was still very calculated with this murder as well.

"When he grabbed her-" Sukuna's fists tightened in his lap, "he pulled her into dark alleyway at the end of town. Bastard just thought he was going to assault her and leave her stranded in the alley- There was no way for me to move his body without being seen or caught on camera."

"I didn't try to argue when they came for me the next day. I would've willingly surrendered myself if it kept mouse out of trouble. They booked me into the county jail within hours, and I took a plea deal on my second court appearance." He explained as was back to picking at the scabs on his knuckles. They were likely never going to heal if he kept picking at them, making them bleed.

"Why didn't you go for a trial?" The counselor asked. There were ways for Sukuna to be proven not guilty. He probably would've qualified for at least a lesser charge of second degree murder or even manslaughter.

"I knew they'd try to subpoena mouse to testify. They'd drag up her trauma and make a spectacle of her in court. I wasn't going to let them try to convince her that what happened to her wasn't anything less than assault, and I wasn't going to let them retraumatize her." Sukuna spoke firmly, shaking his head.

The counselor honestly found it admirable of him. Most "Bonnie and Clyde" killers would actually turn on each other to get themselves out of trouble, but Sukuna would bear the weight of your crime on his shoulders, and he'd still find other ways to protect you from any negative consequence that he could.

"So, I took a plea deal. I plead guilty to the murder and was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole with weekly 20-minute counseling sessions. In exchange, the district attorney made sure mouse's name was scrubbed from every court document, social media outlet, and news source. They had to act like she was in the witness protection program." Sukuna explained with a sigh. It was another way to protect you.

The counselor felt strangely empty. Sukuna's and your story was tragic. A boy who fell madly in love with a silent girl and vowed to protect her from anything. Did he belong in prison for this? Does this excuse him killing your dad? Did this excuse him slaughtering his own flesh and blood? How do they move on from here?

"You were a sensation in court... had your own little fanbase and everything." The counselor hollowly mused, remembering the young women that piled into the courtroom to catch a glimpse of Sukuna. They had idolized him for what he had done. Plus... he was handsome in the most sinful way possible.

Sukuna rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue with annoyance. "The same bitches who praised me for what I had done didn't respect what I was trying to protect. They're always trying to find and leak mouse's name to the public. They don't give a fuck about me or her. They just think our story is perfect for some shitty dark romance novel."

The room fell into a tense silence once more. Neither of the two men knew how to move on from this.

The silence was finally broken with a correctional officer's voice booming through the office. "Ryomen! Your time is up!" He shouted as his fist connected against the door multiple times.

The counselor sighed as Sukuna wordlessly rose from his seat. This session had been worse than either of them could've predicted. "Take care, Sukuna. We will not meet again next week due to the holidays, but I'll see you in two weeks."

The prisoner grunted in response while still walking towards the door. The loud buzzer filled the room once more, and he was let out.

It didn't feel right to watch Sukuna walk back to his pod. The justice system had failed you as a woman, but he was willing to shield you from any harm that threatened to come your way.

𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝'𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚜: 𝚁𝚂

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟼

𝙿𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝟹𝟶𝟷.𝟾𝟹 (𝙵𝟼𝟶.𝟹) 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚂𝙼-𝟻)

𝚂𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚜: 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 [𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳], 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜�� 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 [𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳]

𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗.

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[mattsobvimyfav]

roommates (matthew sturniolo)

pt 26 -

a/n - im so sorry for whats about to happen.

Back at school, everything had that familiar mix of chaos and routine. After settling in, Charlie, Chris, Matt, and I decided to hang out in Charlie’s dorm to unwind after the first week back. Charlie’s room was small but cozy, with twinkly fairy lights draped across the walls and throw pillows scattered over the bed and futon.

Chris was sprawled on the futon, scrolling through his phone. “Your dorm is better than mine,” he said, squinting at the lights. “I can’t believe you actually put effort into it”

Charlie rolled her eyes from where she sat cross-legged on the bed. “That’s because I’m a teenage girl and you’re a straight man. We are not the same.”

Matt sat on the floor with his back propped against the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him. I was next to him, leaning against the bed frame. “You’re both insane,” he said, tossing a small pillow in Chris’s direction. “A dorm is a dorm. Who cares?”

“You say that because you’re boring,” Chris shot back, dodging the pillow and smirking.

“Boring?” Matt raised an eyebrow, leaning forward like he was about to argue.

“Boys, stop,” I cut in, laughing. “We get it. Interior design is a heated topic. I cant imagine how it would be if you guys ever got a house together.”

Chris glances over at Matt momentarily, quick enough that I almost missed it. But then Charlie laughed and nudged me with her foot, distracting me. “Right? Now, does anyone want snacks? I have popcorn and some chocolate.”

“I’ll take chocolate,” I said quickly, and Chris immediately followed with, “Me too, but only if it’s milk chocolate.”

“You’re such a kid,” Charlie teased, getting up to grab the stash from her desk. She tossed a chocolate bar at Chris, who almost missed it.

As everyone started snacking, the conversation turned to plans for the semester. Chris was trying to convince Charlie to come to one of their hockey practices, and she kept pretending to weigh the pros and cons.

“Just come,” Chris said, leaning forward. “We’ll even let you and Y/N sit on the bench.”

“Do I look like a coach to you?” Charlie quipped.

“More like a really bad mascot,” Matt muttered, smirking as Charlie threw a pillow at him.

The room filled with laughter, and it hit me how much I’d missed this—us all being together, no stress, no big plans, just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. 

Matt and I were curled up in bed, mindlessly watching some show we’d both seen a million times before. His arm was draped around me, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on my shoulder. It was quiet, comfortable—the kind of moment I lived for.

Then, suddenly, the door burst open. Charlie stood there, tears streaming down her face, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“Charlie?” I bolted upright, sliding out from under Matt’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer immediately, her eyes wild and red. “Did you know?” she screamed, her voice cracking.

I blinked, panic rising in my chest. “Did I know what?”

Before she could answer, Chris came rushing in behind her, his face a mix of frustration and guilt. “Charlie, stop. Let’s go. We can talk about this later,” he said, reaching out to grab her hand.

“No!” she yelled, jerking away from him. “She deserves to know! Did you know, Y/N?”

“Charlie, what the fuck are you talking about?” My voice was sharp, but I couldn’t help it. My mind was racing, trying to piece together what could possibly have her so upset.

“Get the fuck out,” Matt barked from the bed, sitting up straight now. His jaw was tight, and his eyes were blazing as he glared at Chris and Charlie.

“Matt, stop!” I snapped, turning back to Charlie. “Charlie, tell me what the fuck is going on!”

For a moment, the room was frozen in chaos. Charlie’s sobs filled the silence as Chris stood there, his hand half-reaching for her, while Matt looked ready to jump out of bed and physically remove them both.

“Y/N,” Charlie choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “I—”

“Charlie, don’t,” Chris interrupted, his tone desperate now.

“I deserve to know!” I yelled again, my voice breaking this time. “Someone tell me what the fuck is going on right now!”

Charlie’s sobs filled the room as I stared at her, trying to make sense of her words. She wiped her face with shaky hands, her breath catching. Then, with a voice full of anger and heartbreak, she screamed:

“They’re moving to LA next week! They’ve been planning this since they hit a million. When they went to LA, that was to buy their house! Not meet with their stupid fucking manager! They lied to us!”

My heart stopped. The words hung in the air like a slap to the face. I froze, not even noticing that my breathing had quickened.

“CHARLIE!” Chris’s voice erupted, louder and angrier than I’d ever heard before. His face was red, his hands clenched into fists. “Stop it! Just fucking stop!”

But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Matt. He wasn’t saying anything—just staring at me. His face was unreadable, a mask of guilt and frustration.

I turned to Chris, who looked just as guilty, his shoulders slumping as he avoided my gaze. Then, back to Matt.

Matt opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but no words came out. He just stared at me, his jaw clenching as he swallowed hard.

I didn’t yell. I didn’t cry. I just sat there, silent, the weight of Charlie’s words pressing down on my chest. The room felt suffocating, and the two people I trusted most had nothing to say.

I didn’t say a word. My chest felt tight, and my hands shook as I stood up. Without even looking back, I grabbed Charlie’s arm and my keys off the desk. She followed me, still sobbing, and together we bolted for the door.

“Y/N!” Matt’s voice rang out, desperate and panicked as I heard him jump off the bed and chase after us.

I didn’t stop. I didn’t even look over my shoulder. I couldn’t.

“Y/N, wait!” Matt yelled again, his footsteps growing closer.

But then, another voice cut through the chaos.

“Matt, stop!” Chris shouted, grabbing his brother by the arm just as we hit the end of the hall.

“What the hell are you doing, Chris? Let me go!” Matt barked, his voice frantic.

“No. You need to give her a second,” Chris said firmly, his tone unusually calm. “Just give her some space.”

I didn’t turn back to see if Matt listened. I couldn’t. All I could hear was Charlie’s sniffles as we ran out of the building into the freezing night air, my mind spinning so fast I thought I might collapse.

I drove in silence, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. Charlie sat beside me, her sobs the only sound in the car. The headlights cut through the darkness as I drove aimlessly for twenty minutes until we reached an empty parking lot. The coldness of the night seeped through the car windows as I put the car in park and stared ahead, the weight of the situation suffocating.

Finally, I broke the silence. “What did Chris say to you?” My voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with restrained emotion.

Charlie sniffled, wiping her face with her sleeve as she tried to calm herself enough to speak. Her voice cracked as she started. “He—he was ending it with me,” she choked out, her tone filled with anger and hurt. “He said they’re leaving next Thursday… to pursue their YouTube career full-time. They already bought a house when they went to LA.”

My heart sank as she continued, her words spilling out in a wave of pain.

“They’ve been planning this for weeks, Y/N. Weeks. And they didn’t say a goddamn thing. Chris told me they’re starting to pack on Monday and that they’re withdrawing from school before they leave. He… he just stood there and told me like it was nothing, like we were nothing!” Her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

I sat there in silence, the weight of her words pressing down on me like a crushing force. My mind raced, but I couldn’t find the words to respond. What was I supposed to say?

My phone buzzed incessantly on the console, Matt and Chris’ name lighting up the screen over and over again. I reached over and silenced it, my chest tightening with every missed call.

Charlie glanced at me through her tear-streaked face. “Did you know? Did you know about any of this?”

I shook my head slowly, my voice barely audible. “No… I didn’t know.”

The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over, and I wiped at my face furiously. The silence between us grew heavier, broken only by our quiet sobs as we sat in the car, two broken hearts lost in the cold, empty night.

After what felt like an eternity of sitting in that dark parking lot, the silence between me and Charlie was deafening, only broken by the occasional sniffle. My phone buzzed again, Matt’s name lighting up the screen like it had been doing nonstop for the past hour. I stared at it, my finger hovering over the screen, hesitating.

Finally, I let out a shaky breath and answered.

“Y/N,” Matt’s voice came through immediately, tense and urgent. “Come back. We need to talk.”

I swallowed hard, my voice quiet but steady. “Okay.” Without waiting for anything else, I ended the call.

I turned to Charlie, her face still red and tear-streaked, but her expression now tinged with exhaustion. “We should go back,” I said softly.

She nodded wordlessly, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath. I started the car, the engine humming to life as we pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to the school. The drive was quiet again, both of us too drained to speak.

The weight of what waited for us hung heavy in the air.

When we pulled back into the school parking lot, I turned off the car and looked over at Charlie. Her face was pale, her jaw clenched.

“Before we go in,” I said, my voice low but firm, “grab a bag. Pack it. We’re going to my house for the next week… until they’re gone.”

Charlie blinked at me, her lips trembling before she gave a small nod. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

We walked inside together, but when we reached the hallway, we split off—Charlie heading to her dorm and me walking straight to mine and Matt’s room. My stomach twisted with every step, dread building in my chest.

When I walked into the room, Matt’s head shot up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked wrecked—like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Y/N,” he said, standing up immediately, his voice desperate. “Please, let me explain.”

I didn’t say a word, walking straight to the closet and grabbing my duffel bag. I tossed it onto the bed and started pulling my clothes out of the drawers, my movements quick and precise.

“Y/N, stop!” he exclaimed, stepping toward me. “Can you just give me five minutes? Please?”

I ignored him, grabbing my toiletries from the bathroom and shoving them into the bag.

“Y/N, don’t do this,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how. I was trying to figure out the right time—”

I whipped around to face him, my chest heaving. “The right time? You were going to leave in a week, Matt. A week. When were you planning to tell me? The night before you got on the plane? Or were you just going to ghost me when you got to LA?”

He flinched like I’d slapped him. “I wasn’t going to ghost you. I swear. I—I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, you failed,” I snapped, my voice trembling with anger. “You didn’t want to hurt me, but you let me sit here for weeks, clueless, while you planned your whole future without me.”

“I wasn’t planning it without you!” he shouted, his own frustration boiling over. “I was trying to figure out how to make it work—how to make us work.”

“Bullshit, Matt!” I yelled back, dropping the bag onto the floor. “If you wanted to make it work, you would’ve talked to me. You would’ve let me in on what was happening. But instead, you made the decision for me.”

He ran his hands through his hair, pacing the room like a caged animal. “I thought I was doing the right thing, okay? I thought—I thought maybe it would be easier for you if we just ended it.”

“Easier for me?” I repeated, my voice filled with disbelief. “You think this is easy for me? Watching the person I thought I knew plan a whole new life without me? You didn’t even give me a choice, Matt. You decided I wasn’t worth it.”

“That’s not true!” he shouted, stopping in his tracks to look at me. “You are worth it. You’re worth everything. That’s why I didn’t want to drag you into this. I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“Hold me back?” I said, my voice cracking. “You’re not holding me back. You’re leaving me behind.”

Silence hung between us, thick and suffocating. I picked up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder.

“I hope LA is everything you want it to be, Matt,” I said quietly, my voice filled with pain. “But don’t pretend this was for me. This was your choice, and now I’m making mine.”

“Y/N, please,” he said, his voice desperate as he stepped in front of the door, blocking my exit. “Don’t go. Don’t leave like this.”

I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “You already left, Matt. I’m just catching up.”

He reached out like he wanted to touch me, but I took a step back, glaring at him through my tears. “Move,” I said firmly.

For a moment, he looked like he might argue, but then his shoulders slumped, and he stepped aside.

As I walked out of the room, I heard him whisper, “I’m sorry.”

I didn’t look back.

I stormed down the hall, my bag still slung over my shoulder, my blood boiling. I didn’t bother knocking when I got to Chris’s door—I just shoved it open. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling through his phone, but when he saw me, his eyes widened.

“Y/N?” he started, standing up.

I didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. “How could you?” I shouted, slamming the door behind me. “How could you do this to Charlie? To me?”

Chris blinked, caught off guard. “Y/N, I—”

“No,” I cut him off, my voice trembling with anger. “You don’t get to explain. Do you even understand what you’ve done? You lied to me. You broke her heart. And for what? To chase some dream in LA? Was it worth it, Chris? Was it worth hurting everyone who actually gave a fuck about you?”

“Y/N, calm down,” he said, holding up his hands like he was trying to defuse a bomb.

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down,” I snapped, stepping closer to him. “You knew what this would do to her. To us. And you still did it. You didn’t even have the decency to tell me yourself. You let Charlie find out and blow up her entire world because you’re too much of a coward to be honest.”

Chris’s jaw tightened, and he looked away. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he muttered.

“Spare me the excuses,” I spat. “You didn’t want to hurt us? Well, guess what? You did. You and Matt both. You’ve been lying to our faces for God knows how long. Pretending everything was fine when you knew you were leaving. And then you just decide to break her heart and expect what? That we’d all just be okay with it?”

“Y/N, it’s not that simple,” he said, his voice rising. “We didn’t want to hurt you guys, but this is our chance. Do you get that? This is everything we’ve worked for.”

“And what about Charlie?” I demanded. “What about me? Do we not matter? Were we just placeholders for when something better came along?”

Chris’s face twisted with guilt. “It’s not like that,” he said quietly.

“Then what is it like, Chris?” I shouted. “Explain it to me, because all I see are two selfish assholes who didn’t care enough about the people who loved them to be honest.”

He looked at me, his eyes filled with frustration and pain. “I care, Y/N. We care. But we can’t stay here forever. This is bigger than us. Bigger than you or Charlie.”

I shook my head, laughing bitterly. “You don’t get it, do you? It’s not about you leaving. It’s about how you did it. The lies. The secrets. The way you’ve treated the people who have been there for you every step of the way. You burned every bridge on your way out, Chris. And for what?”

Chris didn’t have an answer. He just stood there, his shoulders slumped, looking like he didn’t know what to say.

I turned toward the door, my chest heaving with emotion. “I hope LA is worth it,” I said coldly. “Because you’ve destroyed everything else.”

As I walked out, I heard him call my name, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t look back. I was done.

Charlie and I sat silently in the car for most of the two-hour drive home. The weight of everything that had just happened hung heavy between us, but neither of us had the energy to unpack it yet. Every now and then, I’d glance over at her. She was staring out the window, tears still streaming silently down her face. I wanted to say something—anything—but I knew she just needed space right now.

When we finally pulled into my driveway, I felt a small wave of relief. At least we wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else for a while. My dad was on a business trip, so the house was completely empty. No questions, no interruptions, just us.

We carried our bags upstairs to my room without a word. Once inside, I dropped my stuff near the closet and turned to Charlie. She sat down on the edge of my bed, her hands gripping the edge of the mattress like it was the only thing holding her together.

“Do you want water or anything?” I asked softly, breaking the silence.

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” Her voice was hoarse, barely audible.

I nodded and sat down beside her. For a few minutes, we just sat there in silence, the only sound was the faint hum of the heater.

Then, I reached for my phone, my hands trembling slightly as I opened Nick’s contact. My thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment before I typed out two words.

“Fuck you.”

I stared at the message for a second before pressing send. There was no hesitation, no regret. I didn’t care if he responded or not. I just needed to let it out.

I showed the text to Charlie, and she let out a bitter laugh. “Good,” she muttered.

“Block them,” I said firmly, locking eyes with her.

She didn’t argue. She pulled out her phone, and together, we scrolled through our contacts, blocking Matt, Chris, and Nick. It felt final, like shutting a door we’d never open again.

When we were done, I tossed my phone onto the nightstand and leaned back against the headboard. “They don’t deserve us,” I said, my voice hard.

Charlie nodded, tears welling in her eyes again. “No, they don’t.”

We both knew it would take time to heal, but for now, all we had was each other—and that was enough.

The week passed in a blur of emptiness. Charlie and I leaned on each other, both trying to ignore the ache in our chests. But as the days ticked by, the reality of what had happened settled in. Now, it was time to go back to school, and the thought of returning to that room without Matt made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.

The drive was quiet, the car filled only with the sound of the playlist Charlie had put on. When we pulled into the school parking lot, I forced myself to grab my bag, plastering on a brave face for Charlie’s sake.

“Text me if you need anything,” she said, hugging me tightly before heading toward her own dorm.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “You too.”

As I walked into my dorm room, the silence was deafening. Everything felt wrong. His side of the room was stripped bare—no posters, no clothes, nothing. It was like he had never been there. My chest tightened as I stepped further inside, scanning the space. That’s when I saw it.

A folded piece of paper lay on Matt’s bed, my name written on the front in his handwriting. My hands shook as I reached for it, and for a moment, I couldn’t bring myself to open it. But I had to know.

I unfolded the note, and his words stared back at me, hitting me like a tidal wave:

Y/N,

I don’t even know where to start. How do I put everything I feel into words when none of this feels real?

Leaving you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. You are my home, my comfort, my safe place. But I’m not good for you—not the way I wish I could be. You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, their whole life, and I can’t do that while I’m chasing this dream.

I know you’re angry. I know you’re hurt. And I hate myself for being the one who caused it. But please believe me when I say I never wanted to hurt you. I thought maybe I could figure out a way for us to make it work, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how selfish that would be. You deserve someone who is all in, not someone who’s split between you and everything else.

I hope you know how much you mean to me. You’re not just the girl I love—you’re my best friend, my anchor. I don’t know how I’m going to do this without you, but I know you’ll be okay. You’re strong, stronger than I’ve ever been, and you’ll keep moving forward even when it feels impossible.

Please don’t think I didn’t love you enough. I loved you too much to stay and hold you back.

You're my best friend, I’ll love you forever.

-Matt

Tears blurred my vision, and I clutched the letter to my chest as I sank onto my bed. It felt like my heart was breaking all over again.

I wanted to scream, to rip the note apart, to yell at him for leaving me like this. But at the same time, I understood. It didn’t make it hurt any less, but I understood.

“You're my best friend, I’ll love you forever.”

The words echoed in my head, over and over, as I curled up on my bed, clutching the letter like it was the only piece of him I had left. And in reality, it was.

Tag -

@namelesssav @christmastreecake @mattsturnii @sturnrc @larnieboox88 @izzylovesmatt @tbfaptbfae @2muchofaslvt @sturnioloshottiekay @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @realuvrrr @sophia-77n @christophersstar @mattscore @whoisthisdiva1

editor- @ch0llies

[cupidbedsy]

▷ we'll be okay ; the film effect

➪ summary: two weeks after their fight, gabe and will still aren't talking which leaves everyone around them worried and annoyed. with molly's help, gabe finds a way to apologize to will and he knows they'll be okay, or at least he hopes

➪ warnings: gabe and will's fight, gabe being insecure and self-conscious of his feelings, will being mad still... i think that's it

➪ word count: 6.0k

➪ file type: au (the film effect) fic

�� cupid's notes: yay they made up ! anyway, this is probably one of my favorite things i've written and i really hope you guys like it <3

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

Gabe had all but thrown himself into hockey these past few weeks. If he wasn’t in class, he was at the rink, if he wasn’t doing homework, he was at the rink, if he wasn’t eating, he was at the rink. It had seemed like the only thing in his life that he could control right now and he was going to take advantage of that. 

This had been the longest time he had ever gone without talking to Will, two weeks. It had been two weeks since he had blown up at Mack with his boyfriend and girlfriend watching, two weeks since he’s fucked up the most important thing in his life, and two weeks since he’s felt like he’s lost two of the most important people in his life. Two weeks of nonstop hockey and nights that consisted of 3-4 hours of sleep if he was lucky. 

Will himself couldn’t think straight even when he was at the rink. The words he said were engraved in his mind, closely followed by words he had heard. It was all beginning to overwhelm him. Which made ignoring people seem like the safest choice, he wouldn’t fuck up any more than he already had and nobody could get mad at him for doing something, so that’s what he did. 

He felt guilty each time he swiped away a text from Molly, each time he declined an invitation to hang out with Mack, each time he had said no to a team dinner or celebrating a win. Still, that guilt slowly just became another numb feeling he had, one that he shoved into the back of his mind. 

Molly, on the other hand, has had two weeks of nonstop worrying and annoyance. If it wasn’t Will she was worried about it was Gabe, if it wasn’t Gabe it was her grades, if it wasn’t her grades… well it was legit anything else that the universe had decided to throw at her just to fuck with her. And she, quite frankly was over it. 

She had spent a great deal of time sending text messages to her boyfriends, most of which went either unseen or unreturned. And if she was lucky enough that they had replied, it was a short and to-the-point text that consisted of ‘I’m fine. Have practice in an hour, talk later’ to which, they never really did talk later. 

She was starting to lose her mind at this point, if the two of them couldn’t figure this out on their own and wouldn’t accept help to figure this out, she wasn’t sure what that meant for the three of them. She wasn’t sure if this would be the end of them. Maybe she was being dramatic, but she had a right to be when Gabe and Will stuck her in the middle of their drama. She wasn’t about to pick sides, but it sure was a hell of a lot easier to get Gabe into shape when he was just down the street. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The rink was colder than she had remembered, she hadn’t stepped foot in one since the fight, too many memories that she didn’t want to recall. She wrapped her jacket tighter around her, navigating through Conte Forum like it was her second home. 

The sound of skates on ice and sticks against pucks welcomed her as she got closer to where Gabe was in the middle of the ice, shooting pucks relentlessly at the net. When she found out he had been here, she hadn’t really been shocked, it was the same answer she had been getting any time she texted one of his teammates or stopped by his place. 

After the tenth shot at the net, she called out his name, halting his movements. She could see the way his body went rigid when he heard her voice, watching as he shook his head before going back to shooting as if he had only imagined it. 

“Gabe, please. Talk to me.”

He ignored her, continuing his movements. Despite knowing she could get in trouble by walking with her street shoes over the ice, she did it anyway, making her way towards him with slow movements, trying not to fall. It took her a minute to reach him, stopping him just as he lined up to take another shot, hand resting on his shoulder, “Baby.”

Her touch, or the nickname, caused him to stop completely, resting his stick by his side and head dropping down to look at his feet. The way he turned around to face her was like he was physically restraining himself from doing so, but her gentle touch and soft coaxing voice made him cave quickly. 

He still avoided her gaze as he came to a stop after turning around, looking quite literally anywhere but her face. He let her take his hand in hers, let her press a kiss to his cheek, let her eyes wander over his body searching for any signs of injury or exhaustion (which he knew she found plenty of), but when her fingers gripped his jaw, he did not let her turn his head. 

“Don’t,” He tried to make his voice sound stern and forceful, but it came out weak and cracked like he was gasping for another breath of air. 

“Look at me, Gabe.” 

He had to admit, she had done a much better job of making her voice sound stronger than he had. His eyes finally trailed over to her, crumbling as soon as their gazes met. She watched as tears brimmed in his eyes, reaching up to rub her thumb across the dark circle underneath one of them. He hadn’t allowed himself to cry since that night, and her bringing him into a hug made him break down fully, stick clattering to ice as he practically went limp in her arms. 

They stayed like that for a while, Molly’s hand in his hair and his arms wrapped around her waist as best as he could. The hoodie he was wearing felt so baggy on him that he was sure he had lost some weight over the past weeks, but that was just another thing he would worry about later. 

When he finally calmed down enough to pull away and wipe his tears, he could feel the cold seeping into his bones, shivering slightly as he removed himself from her warmth. She gave him a small smile, bending down to grab his stick, “Let’s go back to mine, yeah?”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

A nice hot shower and a change of clothes later only made Gabe feel marginally better, but it was progress. That was what he told himself as sat on her bed, feet dangling off while watching her ruffle through draws until she found two Wii remotes and turned to him with a grin, “For old times sake?”

“Yeah.” He reached for one of them, moving over so she could sit next to him as he watched the Mario Kart screen load, clicking buttons until the character selection screen popped up. His cursor hovered between Mario and Luigi before he finally clicked on Luigi. 

The hesitation caused a slight crack in Molly’s heart, maybe she was expecting him to pick Mario, he always argued with Will over whether or not who was who until he gave in at one glance at Will’s puppy dog eyes and let him pick Mario. 

She clicked Donkey Kong, her favorite character for some unknown reason but she played as him every time and she had no intentions of stopping now. She let him pick the first course, and she wasn’t surprised when the familiar opening to DK Summit popped up. No matter how many times they played, they would always do the same order; DK Summit, Luigi Circuit, Mario Circuit, and then Rainbow Road, which they can all confidently say that they haven’t gotten first place yet, but it’ll happen… one day.

They played for the next hour, doing the same four courses over and over again, as they sat in silence beside the music and sounds of the game. When Molly crossed the finish line of Rainbow Road for the fifth time, she set the remote aside, looking over at him, “Ready to talk?”

Everything in Gabe’s mind screamed no, but for the first time in a while, he felt like he could breathe without sending himself into a panic attack. While one small step at a time was good for some people, he just wanted to get it all out of the way as quickly as possible. Why stop when he had so much motivation?

He gave her a small nod because even though he was ready to talk, he wasn’t sure how to start. She took his controller from him, setting them both on her desk before climbing back up on the bed. She smiled when his hand reached for hers, letting out a sigh of relief that went unnoticed by him. 

“What did you say?”

He closed his eyes for a minute, a little piece of him still trying to figure out if there was a way out of this but he quickly realized that there was no turning back. So taking a deep breath, he started talking, “Told him that I was annoyed with Mack being around all the time and that I thought he was trying to steal-”

He cut himself off, just the thought of Will’s name made his stomach churn. She nodded, “And what did he say?”

“Told me I was a child, was acting like a spoiled kid who wasn’t getting his way, and that I wasn’t trying to be friends with Mack, but he’s right I wasn’t.”

“You weren’t, yeah. But that doesn’t mean he also had to discredit your feelings.”

“But-”

“Gabe, let me tell you something. You have every right to feel how you feel, how you feel is appropriate to feel, I am a strong believer in that. But that also means that Will does too, and maybe it’s time that both of you start seeing it from each other’s point of view. This is not just a one-sided thing, both of you were wrong and both of you were right. Both of you said harsh and mean things, and both of you didn’t say a lot of things you wanted to say. 

“There is more to this than just you being jealous and Will being frustrated. There are many layers and it is going to take time to go through every single emotion you and him are feeling, but I know you love him and I know he loves you, and I know both of you would take the time to talk it out.”

Her words raced through his head, trying to cling to every single piece of information she was saying. It made sense, he knew that. He knew that there were things he could’ve said, maybe should’ve said but didn’t. He knew that Will’s words were right but also harsh.

“He won’t even talk to me.”

“And how do you know that? Have you tried texting him?”

“No.” He mumbled, pink coating his cheeks as he lied. He had reached out to him but didn’t want to voice that Will hadn’t responded out loud. It would make the rejection all too real. 

“That’s what I thought. I am not saying that you have to put more effort in than he does or vice versa, but maybe that’s what he needs to know you’re serious about this.”

Gabe bit his lip, that sounded like a good idea, but what could he do to make it up to him? He wasn’t about to send him a shit ton of flowers or gifts or fly to California with a script of words he wants to say, for two reasons. 1. He wasn’t the type of person to do that and 2. Will deserved more.

“Maybe you could… I don’t know, talk to Mack? Apologize, tell him you want to be friends, and move past this.”

He did feel bad for what he said, that was never okay and he knew it as soon as the words left his mouth but anger clouded any form of judgment he might’ve had in the moment. The past two weeks had given him time to reflect and he knew every negative feeling towards Mack had felt wrong and unjustified.

Will had never given Gabe a reason not to trust him, so the moment he said Mack wasn’t trying to get with him he should’ve believed him. And he should’ve seen the blatant attempt of approval Mack was seeking every time he would talk, or try to talk to him. He knew he was a jerk, a dick, every single synonym on this planet for ‘dumbass’ and ‘asshole’ was what he would use to classify himself right now. 

He would apologize to Mack, he would make it up to Will and Molly, and he would make it up to himself. Well, the first two were objectively more important, he could get around to making it up to himself. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The next day Gabe sat with Molly in the student center, Gabe anxiously fiddling with his phone as he deleted and added words to his ongoing apology to Mack and Molly sat with her knees tucked into her chest, planning out a new film idea for class. 

She looked up at him, eyes growing fond as she saw him, “It doesn’t have to be perfect, baby. Why don’t you just start by texting him hi, I don’t think Mack really wants to get out of practice to see over 200 words of you rambling.”

“Oh ha ha, you’re so funny. You should be a comedian if being behind the camera doesn’t work out for you.”

“Actually, I think I’ll make it my part-time job, but I have two years to figure that out. Plus why would I need to be a comedian when I’d have two rich NHL boyfriends?”

He stared at her, looking back down at his phone, “Yeah if I haven’t scared one of them off already.”

Her smile had turned downwards, a frown across her face now as she reached out to hold his hand, “He still loves you.”

“I know I just-” He fiddled with his phone case, pulling the corner off before putting it back on. He wasn’t sure how to express the doubt in his mind, if that was even what he could call it. Maybe if he denied the feeling long enough it would just go away and he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. 

“That’s another thing you have to stop doing.” It was like Molly could read him from the inside out and he didn’t know if he was supposed to be grateful or terrified about it. 

He glanced up at her, “Doing what?”

“Shoving everything to the back of your mind. I know you don’t always want to share what’s going in that head of yours, but that’s what we’re here for.”

We’re. She said it so casually that it dug into him the slightest bit, he didn’t deserve Will’s obsessive worrying and him caring about him, not after everything he said to him. 

He looked back at his phone, swiping into his text messages to send Mack a ‘hi’ like she had told him to. She was right, she always was, but he wouldn’t tell her that in fear of her ego inflating more than it already was. 

When he clicked send, he placed his phone down on the table, watching her as she continued going between writing things down and editing footage on her laptop. He had missed being in her presence, he shouldn’t have shut her out, she did nothing wrong to deserve it and he and Will had placed her in the middle of them, again.

“I’m sorry.”

She looked up, pushing her glasses onto her head as she fully abandoned her work now, “I already told you you didn’t need to apologize-”

“Not for the fight, I mean yes but- fuck. I’m sorry we put you in the middle of us, you shouldn’t have to deal with us both being grade-A assholes and shouldn’t have to choose between us. We’re your boyfriends, not your friends who are fighting over you. And for shutting you out these past couple weeks, I should’ve come to you and talked to you but I just- I felt like I wasn’t allowed to, or at least that’s what my brain was telling me.” 

He trailed off, unsure of how to continue his apology. When he looked back at her, he saw the soft expression on her face and knew that he said enough, or at least enough for her to grasp what he was trying to say, and at that moment, he knew at least the two of them would be okay.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

It wasn’t until Gabe and Molly were at lunch that Mack responded to him. His phone lit up with the notification and Molly was the first to notice it, nodding her head towards the device. He opened the phone to see the text, it was just as short as he had been, a simple ‘Hey’. He was surprised when another text came through quickly after, ‘Everything okay?’

He should’ve expected it, he had never texted Mack on his own accord. Scratch that, he had never texted Mack, period. If he needed something from Will and he wasn’t responding he would make Molly text Mack and ask if he was asleep. 

Molly watched as her boyfriend’s face went through the five stages of grief before she talked, “What did he say?”

“Asked if everything was okay,” Gabe murmured, setting his fork down and taking his phone into both hands, staring down at his lap.

“Just send your mini essay. It’s going to be fine, Gabe. I promise. Mack understands already, trust me, he would want nothing more than to put this all behind him and actually be friends with you.”

He nodded, but that was it. She went back to eating as he copied and pasted his rant from his notes into the message bar. After rereading it 10 times, he thought it was decent enough to send, it wouldn’t make up for the countless times he had ignored him and what he had said the other day, but it bridged the gap in their soon-to-be friendship. 

He put his phone back down, shoving it under his leg, knowing Mack would spend at least two minutes reading everything he had spilled to him made him anxious. He took a bite of his food, trying to continue his conversation with Molly in the meantime. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

If Gabe had a dollar for every right thing Molly had said today he wouldn’t need to sign an NHL contract to be a millionaire. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration but it was true, she had said so many right things today that he didn’t know why he didn’t listen to her in the first place. 

He had spent that last hour texting Mack about random things and becoming friends after Mack had written an extensive text about how he wasn’t totally upset but was grateful for his apology. Maybe they were more alike than he thought they were. 

However, the distraction Mack was providing slowly faded away when he got his newest text from him, ‘Have you talked to Will yet?’

Thankfully, Molly had been next to him when he got the text and gave him a comforting smile, “Would it be easier to talk about it out loud?”

He nodded, yeah she knew him too well. So Molly called Mack from her phone, propping it against her pillows as the two sat on her bed, waiting for him to answer. His face lit up the screen seconds later, and from the space behind him, he was in his apartment. 

“Will’s not here,” his voice was soft as he got himself comfy on his bed. “He went out with some of the guys earlier.”

Molly’s hand wrapped around Gabe’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze that urged him to talk, “I sent him a few texts, sometime last week but he never responded and I haven’t tried since.”

“You did? I thought you said you didn’t.”

“I did, but- it’s not important right now, Molls.”

She gave him a hesitant nod before turning her attention to Mack, “I send him a couple a day, only replies with short answers, can’t get much out of him.” 

“Yeah he doesn’t talk much but he acts like everything’s okay. I know the team knows something's wrong, Logan’s tried to get him to go out with them and this is the first time he accepted it.” 

“I don’t know what to do.” Gabe’s voice was small, like a child who was admitting that they broke their parents' beloved vase. “If he won’t talk to me, and he’s barely talking to you and Molls…:

“I think you guys should come out here, this weekend. I know you got a game Friday so I guess after that or Saturday? You could come to the game and then you can talk it out, plus it’s our last game before Four Nations so then he could always go back with you guys.”

The two thought about it, it did sound like a good plan. But would it work out, the two had no clue. No risk, no reward. The thought echoed through Gabe’s mind. He knows he said he wasn’t the type of person to just fly out spontaneously, but that was before he apologized to Mack.

“We’ll be there.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

When they stepped into SAP Center, their nerves heightened. Even though Will was however many feet away from them they felt as if he just knew they were there, and that made unease flow through them naturally. 

Gabe had spent the past few days preparing for what he was going to say tonight, and even now he still didn’t know what he was going to. But once again, that was a thought for later, all he wanted to do right now was enjoy watching the game and enjoy having Molly by his side as she had for the past week since she set him straight. 

Despite what he told himself, he did think about what he was going to say almost the whole game, during play, during intermission, during timeouts, it was a constant battle of trying to watch the game as he typed away on his phone. 

“You know, if you keep stressing about it, it’s only going to make it worse. It might not be as bad as you think it’s going to be.” Molly’s voice cut through all the screaming and cheering after Toffoli scored a goal. 

He only answered when the crowd settled again, “I know. Kind of hard to convince my mind of that though.”

“Trust me, I know it is. But sometimes you have to override that thought, Gabe. It’s not going to get easier if you don’t stick up for yourself against yourself.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be a writer or some shit?”

“Yeah, almost failed English in high school. Which is why I just come up with the ideas and let my friends write them. Not my strong suit, I just work the camera.”

He gave her a half-smirk, “So you’re the behind-the-scenes guy?”

“Mhm. Always plotting.”

“M’sure you are.”

More cheers rang out and the two turned their attention to where a group of blue jerseys swarmed together on the ice, the clock had ticked down faster than they thought it would, faster than they wished it would.

They sat, watching as most of the fans made their way out of the arena and back to their cars. By the time they found the will to move, only half the arena’s seats were still filled and they were both sure it was just to watch the interview that was happening on the ice. 

Will had gotten first star of the game after two goals and two assists, beaming as brightly as he could. The two could tell from where they sat that there was dimness in his eyes, tightness in his voice as he spoke to the interviewer, and stood with a tense figure as he tried to make it through. 

It was nice to hear his voice, it was the first time they heard it in person since that day, strictly relying on old voice memos and videos if they wanted to hear it. They hadn’t realized how much they loved getting those from him until they stopped. 

They got up out of their seats once he left the ice, making their way down to the tunnel to wait for him. Mack was the first to come out and both of them couldn’t help the disappointment that covered their face when they didn’t see the usual blond mop of curls trailing behind him. 

He gave them a small smile once he saw them, bringing Molly into a hug and giving Gabe whatever weird handshake thing boys usually did. Molly let herself smile at the interaction, it was just a step closer to working everything out, and she was proud of him for it. 

“It’ll probably be a few before he comes out, he’s just been sitting in there after games until he absolutely has to leave and then he’ll start getting ready to go.”

Gabe let out a low hum in acknowledgment, eyes fluttering back to where he knew his boyfriend could walk out at any minute. Then they fell into an easy conversation, mostly about what they had been doing the past few weeks and other random things that had come up. 

“Mack didn’t know what a date was.”

“Like going on a date or…?”

“You two I swear to god. The fruit!”

“Oh. There’s a fruit?”

Will wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not as he turned the corner, stopping when he caught sight of the three who were laughing about something he couldn’t figure out. Blinking steadily, he pinched himself on the wrist and when the small burst of pain shot through him, he knew for a fact that his girlfriend, his best friend, and his boyfriend were all talking and having a good time like nothing had happened. 

He was sure he was angry, but again he didn’t know what he had been feeling these two weeks, everything he felt would just turn numb in the hours after he acknowledged it. He gained the courage to walk the few steps towards them, closing the gap. 

Molly saw him first, biting her lip and falling silent as she looked at him; dark circles, eyebags, exhaustion, everything was the same as when she saw Gabe earlier in the week. Gabe and Mack didn’t take long to recognize her silence, following her gaze to where Will stood, clad in his suit and hair wet from the quick shower he took. 

“They flew out this morning,” Mack’s voice was soft, like every other time he had tried to speak to Will since everything had happened. 

He gave a brief nod, letting his eyes go from Molly to Gabe and then back to Molly and back to Gabe, before settling on his friend again, “I’m ready to go.”

Both Molly and Gabe’s hearts cracked at his cold tone, feeling as if he didn’t care that they were there. Mack placed a handout, stopping Will from walking any further away from them, “Hear him out please.”

“And you know what he has to say?” He kept his volume low, trying not to let the emotion that flooded his voice show. 

“He texted me earlier this week, Tuesday,” Mack started, he hadn’t told him about his conversation with Gabe and Molly, or at least until now. “Apologized, for everything. And then we just talked. He really is sorry Will. I don’t think he would’ve reached out to me if he wasn’t.”

Will took in the information, trying to process it but it just floated around in his head like a fly he couldn’t catch. When he looked back over to the two, his tone had softened but he still kept his guard up, “You coming?”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The car ride to Mack and Will’s apartment was all quiet, no one spoke as turns were made and lights were passed. They pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex, sitting in heavy silence for a few minutes before getting out of the car. 

Molly and Gabe took the stairs while the other two rode the elevator up. They got two flights of stairs in when Molly murmured, “It’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.”

“Mhm, I know. Or at least I hope I do.”

They reached their floor a couple of minutes later, walking out of the stairwell to see Mack and Will deep in conversation with each other. It didn’t take long for them to notice the two, letting them follow them to their apartment. 

Mack stuck his key in, turning and unlocking the door before pushing it open and letting the three step inside. The four kicked their shoes off and then just stood there awkwardly. Frustration grew in Mack’s head before he eventually was over Gabe being too scared to admit his wrongs and Will being too stubborn to let him speak, “Okay. I’m done with this.”

Eyes fell on him but he ignored their stares and wrapped a hand around both of their arms before leading them towards Will’s room and shoving them in there, “Do not come out until this shit is fixed. You two aren’t the only ones suffering because of this.”

Will and Gabe turned to Molly who stood there nervously, fiddling with her hands and rocking back and forth on her heels. They softened simultaneously, Mack was right, they had put her through enough and it was time they fixed that and made it up to her, but they couldn’t do it without talking it out with each other first. 

The door closed and left the two alone in the confines of Will’s bedroom, hoodies and shirts were lying on the ground, takeout containers shoved in the overflowing trashcan, and a heavy, musty smell took over their senses. 

“Sorry about the mess.” Will started picking up shirts and throwing them in his laundry basket, his need to stress clean overwhelming him. 

Gabe’s hand grabbed ahold of his wrist, stopping him from moving, “Don’t do that, not now. Please.”

He didn’t face him, not yet, staring at his crumbled sheets from when he didn’t even attempt to make his bed this morning. He felt Gabe’s hand move down to his hand, lacing their fingers together. That was when he turned, looking over his face and seeing the tiredness that was written over it, he was sure it matched the tiredness on his own. 

He gave him a nod, allowing him to go on, “I’m sorry- I know I’m sorry doesn’t fix anything, let me speak, please.”

Gabe knew that when Will opened his mouth he was going to let out something along the lines of ‘sorry isn’t going to cut it’, he always did. He guided him to sit on the bed before he sat next to them, keeping their fingers intertwined. 

“I know what I said was wrong and hurtful, I never should’ve said what I said to Mack and I never should’ve said what I said to you, even though I did mean it, a little bit.” Gabe’s thumb started absentmindedly running over Will’s knuckles, a habit he had gained whenever he had started to become restless or anxious, “And while I am sorry about how I chose to… display my feelings, I’m not going to apologize for how I felt. 

“For a while, it was easy to pass the feelings off as jealousy and whatnot but the more and more the two of you hung out and the more and more the two of you were in videos together, I think it made me realize how much I missed just having you as a teammate and how different it was not to have you around. 

“You’ve never done anything to make me feel like you would cheat on me or whatever and I should’ve recognized that a lot earlier. I also should’ve acknowledged you’re point of view on this. I know Mack has been there for you since the beginning of the season and I know how much he means to you and I shouldn’t have let my feelings and insecurities get in the way of your friendship.”

He took a deep breath, unsure if he had said enough or if he should keep going. But before he could let his mind spiral into more thoughts and choices, he heard Will’s voice and the soft squeeze of his hand, “I’m sorry too.”

Will was overcome with emotions from Gabe’s apology and honestly, he didn’t even have to say all of it to know he meant it, from the moment he found out that he had reached out to Mack on his own accord he had forgiven him, maybe even before that. 

“I know that no matter what I say is going to live up to that,” the two let out wet chuckles before he continued. “But I am sorry for saying that you were acting like a child. I also should’ve seen things from your perspective and I didn’t, and it probably would’ve made a lot more sense if I had.”

He let himself reach up to run a hand through Gabe’s hair which made him instantly melt into his touch. He listened as Will continued speaking but most of the words fell deaf upon his years. He should be listening, he knew that, but he was just so grateful to actually talk to them that the topic at hand didn’t really matter. 

Meanwhile, Mack and Molly sat in the living room where Molly was critiquing a shitty movie he had put on, it was one of her favorite stress-relieving tactics. 

“How’re you holding up?”

She sighed, nibbling on her bottom lip, “Okay.”

“You’re not.”

“I know.” She curled her knees into her chest, fidgeting with her earrings, “Do you know how hard it is to make two 19-year-olds speak to each other?”

Mack laughed, bringing her into a side hug, “Do you know how hard it is having to deal with a mopey and frustrated Will?”

“Probably the same as dealing with an insecure and guilt-ridden Gabe.”

They heard the click of the door, heads snapping towards it to see the two walk out of the bedroom still hand-in-hand. When she saw it, she smiled and let out a sigh of relief, making her way over to them. She brought them into a hug, her grasp firm, “Please tell me you two are okay.”

“We are sweetheart,” Gabe’s hand brushed the strands of hair that fell into her face behind her ear, pressing a kiss to her head, “We are.”

“I’m sorry we put you in the middle of this, we never should’ve done it and-”

“If one of you apologizes to me one more time, I’m seriously going to lose my fucking mind more than I already have. And if you two ever and I mean ever fight like that again, I’m breaking up with you.”

Will nodded, kissing her temple, “I don’t doubt it, sweet girl. I don’t.”

Mack stood from the couch, making his way to his room to give the three their privacy. He only made it halfway before a call of his voice stopped him in his tracks, turning to see Gabe staring at him. He raised his eyebrow in question, “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He just nodded in response, continuing his trek to his room. Will watched the exchange before looking back down where Molly stood, bringing the two of them closer together. At that moment, for the first time in two weeks, all three of them knew that they were going to be okay.

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[yeahtimesten]

a wedding to remember pt 1 - p.z

fake dating au, wedding guests, patrick zweig x reader

patrick zweig is desperate to prove to his parents he can make a commitment to tennis, by using you to show his parents he can commit, period.

multi parts, warnings - lots of cussing

Art Donaldson, Tashi Duncan, Patrick Zweig, and you all sat together in the Stanford dining call, the girls next to each other and the boys across. They all dug into their meals, making small talk, until:

“So, I gotta head out for practice,” Tashi said, gathering her things onto her tray and rising off of the booth. “Maybe later you two can meet us at our dorm and we can watch a movie or something.” She smiled at the two boys, as she traced her fingers down your hair.

“I actually have to head to my study group right now,” Art followed suit. “I’ll see you guys later.” The two walked out of the cafeteria together and the two of you remained seated, finishing your meals.

“What are you up to after this,” Patrick asked you, sliding his body across the bench to be face to face. “Got any plans?”

Patrick and you, within the two years you’d known each other, had never really hung out alone together. Usually, at least Tashi or Art accompanied you whenever Patrick came to visit. He wasn’t sure if he could consider you a friend, he mostly knew you as Tashi’s roommate, an acquaintance at best. You were sweet, you listened to his stories and told him your own. Whenever he came over, you had snacks that you knew he liked ready. Patrick knew your preferred choice of souvenirs were keychains and shot glasses, and he brought you some every time he came to visit from touring. But, they weren’t by any means close the way that Art and Patrick or Tashi and you were.

So, when Patrick asked you what you were doing next, you felt a bit awkward. Did he want to hang out or was he just being polite? Did he want something?

“I was just going to go back to my dorm and study,” you said plainly, taking another bite of her sandwich.

“I’ll walk you back,” he offered, with a small smile.

The two of you wrapped up your meals and headed out of the dining hall.

“So, what are your plans for this summer,” Patrick asked, biting the skin around his nails. He looked down the whole time, hoping not to catch your eyes.

“Um, well, I was going to go back home and find a full time job, I guess. Just save up money for next semester,” you shrugged. “What about you? Continuing your tour?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve got a few trips planned for later in the season, more towards fall actually,” he sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “Actually, my sister is getting married in two weeks so after my match next week in Indian Wells, I’ll fly out there to attend.”

Your both approached your dorm and you invited in Patrick, who took a seat on your bed and you at your desk.

“Oh that sounds like fun, Patrick,” you smiled at him, before quickly clocking a face contorted and twisted with disagreement. “Or, no, not fun? I know you talk a lot of shit about your family and your parents but it can’t be that bad, can it?” He eyed the girl in front of him who was so naive and unaware of his dysfunctional family.

“You don’t understand, they’re fucking crazy,” Patrick sighed. He pulled his legs up to sit cross legged in your bed.

You started to flip through your notebook and set up to study. “Okay, well do you have a role in the wedding or something? Are you the best man or a groomsmen?”

He scoffed. “God, no.”

“Alright then, just go for the actual wedding,” you shrugged, not looking away from your notes. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be weird to bring Art along, then you could just pick up a bridesmaid and call it a day.”

“I already have a plus one,” he coughed, and started biting his nails yet again.

“Oh, who,” you inquired, still more focused on your papers.

A beat of silence. Patrick placed his hands in his lap and looked at you, with a deeper tone of seriousness. You turned his way and caught his face, still as a stone. He looked like he had just been carved from marble, he was so still.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your head cocked to the side. “Who?” You repeated, growing worried and confused.

Patrick swallowed hard, unsure how to go about his words. “You, I hope.”

Patrick had been acting weird all day, you had caught that. Someone who was normally loud, unfiltered, and extroverted was suddenly quiet, reserved, and seemingly anxious as soon as he had seen you this morning. You blinked rapidly, trying to process what he said.

“Me? What do you mean me?”

“I want to take you to my sister’s wedding,” Patrick said plainly, with newfound sturdiness. He sat back on his hands and continued to look at you, who had now turned your chair to face him.

“Okay, I get that,” you nodded. “But, why? What for?”

“Well, like you said, it sounds like fun,” Patrick lightly chuckled, eliciting a sigh from you.

“Patrick, be for real.” You leaned forward in your swivel chair. “Why me? Why not Art? Or Tashi, even?”

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Patrick regained his seriousness. “A huge favor.” You just looked at him with wide impatient eyes, your arms gesturing for him to continue. “I need you to come to this wedding with me… And pretend to date me.” He sighed as if he’d been holding his breath for a long time, the weight of the request off his shoulders at last.

But, your face just contorted in more confusion.

“What? What the fuck, Patrick?! What for?”

“It’s hard to explain-“

“Well, try!” Patrick opened his mouth again, but you cut him off. “I mean, I don’t see why you can’t ask Tashi. I’m not good at lying, and I’m not trying to say anything about Tashi, she’s my best friend, but she’d be much better at something like that than I am.”

“Tashi wouldn’t work, she wouldn’t sell it,” he muttered more to himself. “I don’t know why you, y/n. You are sweet and polite, but cutthroat when need be. You’re smart, determined, pretty. You tell all these stories about how great you are with your friend’s parents, selling them an illusion of safety for their children before taking them to parties or whatever the fuck, so you must be kind of good at lying.” What started off so sweet, turned accusatory, and you couldn’t brush past that.

“I never sold an illusion. We stayed safe and out of trouble, none of my friends ever got hurt or arrested, so I wasn’t lying,” you corrected. “Just to go to some house parties, by the way. Not like we were knocking down some liquor stores.”

“I recall a story you told us about you calling your friend’s strict mom posing as a teacher asking for consent for her son to stay late for an extra curricular event so you take him and your friends to a concert.”

“I didn’t say I was a teacher, I introduced myself as Ms. y/l/n, and that I wanted to him to participate in a concert as an extra curricular activity to enrich his knowledge in music. We were in choir together! I never lied,” she pointed at him. “But again, Tashi can lie and she’s all those other things you listed. Ask her, I’m sure Art wouldn’t mind, he loves your schemes even when he warns you against them.”

“I already said Tashi wouldn’t work,” Patrick grew exasperated. He knew there might be some pushback and didn’t think you would just say yes on a whim, even though that’s what he hoped. But he actually hadn’t planned out the conversation very well to convince you. “Listen, my parents aren’t big fans of me playing tennis. They want me to quit, or at least step back a bit for now, and give me a seat on their company board. They say I can’t take anything seriously and say I won’t amount to much and I’ll just end up a washed up athlete someday. Tashi is a tennis player and they know that and even though she is all of those things, it would just come off as biased. You could convince them that maybe tennis isn’t half bad and that I can take something seriously and commit and have children to pass on the family wealth and name. You can sell that in a way she can’t.”

Your stern look softened. You sympathized with him. No, you didn’t have the slightest clue of what it was like to have parents who didn’t support you, but you had plenty of friends who had similar experiences of wanting to go through with their dreams but were held back by unsupportive parents.

“So? Will you attend the wedding with me?” You stayed quiet, biting the inside of your cheek. “We’ll be there for a week, we’ll attend a few get togethers before the main event. We aren’t in the wedding party, we’re just guests. The food will be good, I’ll even take you into the city.” He was desperate, and he grabbed both of your arms. “Please?”

You looked up at him, deep into his pleading eyes. Your heart melted, feeling needed by him. It’s true, you’d had a crush on him for a long two years. It wasn’t painful or deep. You knew he was hot stuff, you loved the way he made you laugh, you loved the tidbits of undivided attention he’d give you when you told a story. You were looking for any excuse to say no.

“I’m not good at lying,” you reinforced.

“You don’t have to be, you can be yourself. Holding hands occasionally isn’t a lie. My parents will appreciate the lack of PDA otherwise. And they might try to get to know you, surface level stuff, but they won’t drill you. They stopped asking so many questions when they asked a girl I brought over how it was like growing up in the plains of Montana and she got offended because she thought they called her state ugly and boring.” You both shared a giggle in what was before such a serious conversation, which made Patrick feel all the more comfortable. “She got so worked up and said ‘Montana may not seem like much, but it’s far from plain. It’s my home and it’s beautiful.’” He did a poor impression of the girl, eliciting more laughter from you.

“Poor girl,” you joked. “But, honestly Patrick, I can’t afford a plane ticket. And I know it’s just a week, but I was hoping to get a summer job as soon as possible to save as much as I can. I don’t even have a dress to wear to a wedding.” You hated admitting that, even though it was true. It wasn’t an excuse, it was a valid reason. You didn’t want to say no. Even though Patrick’s parents sounded like a pain in the ass, it did sound fun to prance around a mansion for a week.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to pay,” Patrick laughed. “It’s my treat, the whole week. Any expense, I’ll take care of. You can even go dress shopping on my dime. I know this is a lot to ask of you, I’ll make sure that you’re compensated.”

“God, Patrick, if you insist,” you teased. “I won’t hear you beg any longer.”

He scooped you into a big hug. “Thank you, y/n, seriously.” He gave you a peck on the cheek, causing you to blush.

once i had a love - blondie

Finals were over, closing up another year of college. Tashi and you stood in the shared dorm, packing away bags for summer break.

“So, you’re going to pretend to be Patrick’s girlfriend for a week,” Tashi stated, but it was also a question.

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrugged.

Neither of you were facing each other. Both of your luggage was stacked on beds on opposite sides of the room.

“I just don’t understand why.”

“I don’t either. He said I’ll impress his parents and I guess make them more accepting of him playing tennis? I don’t know…”

“No I mean, I don’t understand why you said yes.” You continued folding clothes and cramming your suitcases.

“Because he asked, I guess? It’s not like I had anything better planned, to be honest.”

“You’re too nice, y/n,” Tashi sighed. “And Patrick is a pussy. If he really loved tennis, he’d take it more seriously and he wouldn’t care what his parents think, he’d just go for it.”

“I don’t know, Tashi,” you sighed back, with a tinge of attitude. “But, I already obliged and he already bought the ticket, so… Too late now, I guess.”

A beat of silence passed.

“Are you mad at me?” Tashi finally turned towards you. “I’m not talking shit, I’m just being honest. I’m just saying, maybe if he put in an effort and didn’t glide by on talent alone, maybe his parents would take him seriously and support him.”

You stopped mid shirt fold to meet Tashi’s face. “No, Tashi, I’m not mad. I get it. I’ve heard you and Art talk to him about getting a higher education, applying to go here and be guided by an actual coach and trainers. I don’t know anything about tennis but, I agree. And I don’t know what me being there will do to actually help. But like I said, I have nothing better to do… And honestly? I’m excited to see his house. I’ve never been inside a mansion before, or even to an actual wedding, besides when I was a little kid and I was the flower girl.”

“Ha, I bet you were such a cute flower girl,” Tashi said, shaking her head. By now, the two of you had resumed packing. “Hey, remember those photos I showed you from the party Adidas threw me after I won the junior open?”

“Yeah?” Tashi turned her head to look at you.

“Patrick’s house is bigger than that,” Tashi nodded, as you turned her head, jaw dropped.

“No fuckin’ way,” you scoffed. “That place looked huge. Even bigger than that?”

“That’s what Art told me.”

“What’s up with you and Art anyways? Like, what’s the move between you two?”

“Well, I’m not initiating the ‘what are we’ conversation. Nuh, uh. We’ve been fucking around, and I know he likes me, and I think I’ve made it apparent that I like him back. He’s just taking his sweet ass time making it official,” Tashi explained. “Like we are basically together, but I don’t run off assumptions. I like labels, sooo. I don’t wanna say I’ll drop him but I don’t want to wait around forever, you know. I deserve more than a nonchalant boyfriend thing.”

“Art is not nonchalant,” you laughed. “He’s so obsessed with you, he’s just shy. Maybe he’s trying to wait for the right time.”

“There is no time like the present,” Tashi said. “Well, I don’t think we’ll see each other all summer… So, we’ll see.”

a/n - praying to gawd that i actually keep up with this. reminder you don’t have to listen to any song i link or even canonize any outfits i may link, tbh. i do it for self indulgence

divider by @/chachachannah

[thefixations-ofmine]

snippet: new year, new me

a/n: I suck at titles, please be nice. This is a snippet for something I'm working on for the bucktommy winter fest, and it's inspired by this exchange here. I currently have 1,8k on it, but I'll be adding/editing more tomorrow and before posting on Saturday. I'm not sure if I'll take this one to the nsfw part or if I'm rather going to use next week's prompt for that. I'll see where this takes me!

“There’s still time to turn around, man.” Eddie offers, and Buck shakes his head. He’s gotta do this. For himself. And for Tommy, perhaps.

“I’m okay, yeah. I’m okay.” Buck rubs his hands onto his jeans - the tight blue ones he remembers were Tommy’s favourites. The same jeans he wore on the night- Buck shakes his head.

Yeah, he really needs to talk to Tommy.

The house looks a little different, and in his current state, Buck can’t really tell why. The grass is a little longer than usual, but that’s not it. Tommy was never really a fancy landscaping guy so the hedge and small bushes are the same. New roof? Nope.

Then Buck’s eyes fall onto the bright red, 2019 Charger parked in the driveway and his brows bend with curiosity. Did Tommy have that bad of a crisis that he made an impulsive (and expensive) decision?

Ha! Buck silently laughs to himself. Ironic.

Then his heart tightens at the thought of Tommy going out and changing plenty of things about himself that he might have been holding back because of their relationship.

Eddie catches the change in energy and tries to comfort his friend; “I remember he told me he was thinking of getting a more recent sports car because working on classics was becoming expensive.”

“But he loved his truck. I loved his truck…” Buck whispers, reminiscing over their short trips and the laughs they shared eating take-out and watching planes take off at Burbank.

After a deep breath to control himself, Buck nods and thanks Eddie for driving him over, that he’d catch an Uber back to his place if Eddie got called while on his stand-by shift.

He jumps out of the truck and wills himself to walk to the door.

It’s eleven forty-five.

There’s a few seconds too many after his first knock and Buck goes for another. The door swings open as if the person was waiting behind it for whomever it was to dare knock again.

The comforting smell of the house drafts out, bringing up a wave of emotions.

“Can I help you?” There’s a tall, broad man on the other side of the threshold, but it’s not Tommy. The features are similar though; blue eyes, dark hair, muscles all over and a nose that would crunch up on his cheek during a kiss like Tommy’s and-

“Who is it, Sal?” Buck hears Tommy shout from inside. Sal. What a stupid name.

“Some random mook.” Sal turns around to tell. Then his piercing gaze falls back onto Buck; “You’re bumming out our party. The fuck you want?”

“Um, well-” There’s a moment of disbelief that makes him forget everything he needed to say. Tommy’s already got a date. Buck was sure he’d be alone moping, or at least working an extra shift, but he’s already found another man to spend his spare time with. Tommy was better at going out to explore than he was apparently.

Fuck off. Not on his watch.

You can find my masterlist here. Let me know if you wish to be tagged in this and/or future works!

[neithoftheveil]

It’s the end of my first full year writing fanfiction, which means I officially get to reflect on the whole experience!

So let’s dive in—

Words written: 385,418 (I was aiming for 400k! So close! Back when I was in my MFA program, I struggled to turn out more than 40k a year. I found my passion for writing again with fanfiction. It’s been a joy. Truly. I have discovered how valuable community is when it comes to creation. Having people in your corner and cheering you on is wonderful—but so is participating in fandom. The art. The meta. The conversations between friends and mutuals. I’m constantly inspired to make things.)

Kudos: 16,167 across 35 works (That’s so…fucking many. Pardon my French. You guys! You are so nice! Omg. I just want to wrap you all up and hug you. Sometimes I get so fixated on, oh, this fic barely got 50 kudos; it must have been a failure. But…that’s 50 whole human beings who liked it. And it adds up.)

Bookmarks: 5,134 across 35 works (!!! Just !!! The fact my stuff is read, let alone getting rereads and recommendations… I’m gonna cry.)

Hits: 136,434 across 35 works (Bizarre.)

My fic with the most comments:

all that defines me (295 comments — This surprises me because I feel like it’s one of my more unpopular works? I’m hardcore struggling to finish it, but I’m doing my best for everyone. Knowing now that it has some of the highest engagement of my fics is going to help me going forward.)

My fic with the most bookmarks and hits:

i talk to god but the sky is empty (582 bookmarks and 18,375 hits — I never expected this work to get the reception it did. It was the second fic I wrote for the fandom—finished after several other works but still my second. I write things I consider “niche fics” that are just hardcore my interests and I never expect anyone to care about them, but the fics always surprise me by ending up some of my more popular works. Thanks for supporting my brainworms.)

My fic with the most kudos:

i hope we shall meet again (1.472 kudos — A fic I wrote in an hour on a snowy day. It could be better, but I know I also say that because I got my first criticism as a fanfic writer on this fic and it really killed my mood for like a full week.)

My fic with the most subscriptions:

pieces of you (232 subscriptions — Another of my “niche fics.” Reception has been great! I tried something new: writing a fic with two endings, as well as challenging myself to flesh out the characterization of some lesser seen—or never seen—versions of Hua Cheng. My first non-commissioned fanart, by dragongoats, was for this fic and is happily linked in the author’s notes.)

My most popular series:

no light, no light + extras (The first fic I wrote for the fandom and a handful of extras that exist mostly thanks to IlluminatingSceadugenga being a huge fan and asking for more of the series. It’s a heavier series, and the writing style is hard to replicate because it’s my old style, but I love it.)

Fics I really enjoyed writing not mentioned above:

good bones (I stepped outside my comfort zone with this one and wrote an angry, dominant bottom Xie Lian, and then followed it up with a bunch of mpreg fluff.)

i will never leave you (I just had endless fun writing the development of Xie Lian and Hua Cheng’s relationship. The teasing. The good times. The domesticity.)

borrowed finery (This one will always have a special place in my heart. It’s sad and sweet.)

plum blossom (It’s probably the only funny thing I’ve ever written, but it makes me laugh when I reread it.)

Bonus: I wrote 5 gift fics this year, received a gift fic (!! thank you, scrapimmortal), wrote 3 prompt fics for my one-year anniversary, commissioned a piece of fanfiction, got art for my birthday, and wrote 15 ficlets on tumblr (one of which juicedpeachy added a piece of accompanying artwork for).

Y’all showed my work so much love. Thanks to everyone who subscribed, read, commented, reread, etc. You’ve been wonderful, and you’ve given me a reason to keep creating. I hope to continue writing this coming year.

[leclercsbf]

scuderiaferrari SOAK IT UP! what an incredible drive

[reddamselette]

at a skating rink and i thought about valgrace so

valgrace except leo is a pro skater. he can spin around and practically just dance while on wheels but jason? he cannot skate for the life of him.

so leo takes jason’s hands, tells him to bend his knees and find a balance, to find a rhythm in the music and just let go; feel it. jason does, of course, after they skate in their third circle because in reality, he’s been distracted by leo and his bright smile. jason catches the way leo sways to the beat, mouths the lyrics if he knows the songs but brown irises are kept on him, forever him.

it’s in that moment, jason falls in love with leo.

[exopelagic]

WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME BURROWS END WASNT FREE

[starkidlabs]

Creepy guy liking all my posts on Instagram and commenting “U always look so beautiful” etc. etc. Why is my life like this. I want to die.

[void-tiger]

Trying to keep a lid on it but. Yeah. Literally don’t know what’s it like to NOT be platonically neglected IRL my whole damn life, only that I know this One Person doesn’t deserve to be at the epicenter of it anymore than I deserved to have been at the epicenter of theirs a year ago now.

…why am I like this. Why are we like this.

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

My heart is soooo full of love guys

[tariah23]

He’s such a loser bro

[mutalune]

I didn’t wait until the weekend I went to build a bear yesterday and it was great and even better is the online order I put in ages ago got here SO I DELIGHTEDLY INTRODUCE YOU TO…

Jim!!!!!! My most precious boy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

[milo-is-rambling]

God having complicated emotions is so fucking draining

[the-fog-system]

.