#unexpected timestamp

[totodiletears]

absolutely NOT reblogging that giant-ass post just to complain about one thing in the middle but GUYSSSSS "Best time to plant a tree is 20 years ago. Second best time is today" is NOT from 2018!!! It's fucking OLD, I don't know the origin but I know it was an old trite saying when I was a kid and that was WAY BEFORE FUCKIN 2018, STOP REBLOGGING THAT VERSION OF THE POST

[melon-dot-com]

bonking my head against desk.mp4

I wasted time on something unimportant and that I didn't even care about again!!!!! I'm gonna Lose It!!!!

[edenesth]

Clumsy Hearts, Steady Love

Pairing: boyfriend!Hongjoong x fem!reader

AU: non-idol au

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: He was a great friend but a terrible lover, and he knew it. For the longest time, he believed he wasn’t cut out for relationships. But then you came along, and for the first time, he wanted to try. He wanted to be better, to be good for you, even if it meant being clumsy along the way. For you, he was willing to learn how to love.

A/N: Only @itstheghostofmypast knows this was initially meant to be a timestamp🤡

ATEEZ Masterlist

"Don't drive today, darling. I'll pick you up from work this evening."

Those words from Kim Hongjoong echoed in your mind. For the first time in a year of being together, he offered to pick you up. Your heart soared at the unexpected sweetness from him.

It wasn't that you thought he was a bad boyfriend, but you knew his nature from the very beginning. Your friends had warned you when you accepted him; he was a workaholic, someone who would always put anything and everything before you. A good friend but a bad lover—that was his reputation. Yet, you couldn't deny the way he made your heart race, the way his presence made everything better, the way he vowed to love you as you deserved, the way he promised he would try for you.

From the start, you knew what you were getting into. You didn't expect perfection. You didn't want perfection.

You just wanted him.

But loving Hongjoong truly was not easy.

It could be exhausting. Perhaps today was another one of those days.

You had looked forward to this day for so long, hoping he would be the boyfriend he promised to be. But deep down, you knew better than to have such high hopes.

Letting out what felt like the thousandth sigh of the day, you nearly froze to death from being soaked in the rain, your ankle throbbed from a sprained heel as you stood by the bus stop outside your office building where he was supposed to pick you up.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

Every call went straight to voicemail, escalating your worry to panic. You didn’t dare move, fearing he might arrive at an empty bus stop.

After hours of agony, trying to reach him, and calling all his friends, you got the same useless response: he was unreachable, and they had no idea where he could be.

Three hours.

You sat there for three hours, sick with worry about him, when you were the one who needed care, only to end up taking the bus home. So much for the excitement and anticipation of him picking you up for the first time. You should have been furious, but the pounding headache and rising fever stole that from you. Another heavy sigh escaped your lips, the disappointment of what should have been an exciting Friday evening turning into an utter disaster.

"Enough, my darling. I'm here now, am I not?" said Kim Hongjoong.

The audacity.

You had left work to be greeted by a heavy downpour, cursing yourself for not bringing an umbrella. As if things couldn't get worse, your sprint to the bus stop where he promised to pick you up was interrupted when your heel chose that moment to snap. You yelped in pain, stumbling forward onto the wet ground, your belongings scattering everywhere. Crawling on the rough pavement to collect them, you finally stood up, only to feel a sharp throb in your ankle.

But it was supposed to be okay because seeing Hongjoong was sure to make everything better.

Ha, bitch you thought.

He left you panicking like a mad woman for hours, only to show up in the most infuriating way. When the 8pm bus finally rolled to a stop before you and the automated doors swooshed opened, you were busy dialling his number yet again.

"Come on, pick up pick up pick up—"

Wait a minute, is that...?

You did a double take when the very person you had been desperately trying to reach this whole time stepped off the bus with a sheepish smile, only for his expression to fall when he saw the miserable state you were in.

"Please throw your phone away if you have no intention of using it," you said flatly, walking past him and intentionally bumping his shoulder as you boarded the bus, no longer caring if he followed.

Of course, he did.

He cursed under his breath, noticing your limp, the heels in your hand, and your soaked, shivering form.

Settling into the last row of seats beside you, he quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it around you. You were too weak to fight back or refuse. His heart ached as he pulled you close, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. Silently, you accepted it all. Not only were you too exhausted to reject his gestures, but you also felt you deserved this and more after what you had endured. When you were warm enough, he immediately checked on your now swollen and bruised ankle, careful not to hurt you. The concern in his eyes was enough to melt your heart, but he didn't need to know that.

Once he was done fussing over you, he leaned back in his seat, offering his shoulder. Stubbornly, you turned away and leaned your head against the window instead. Knowing you needed time to calm down, he kept quiet and let you be, but not without staying close. He needed you to know he was there for you.

When you sighed again, he could no longer take it. He felt the need to explain himself.

"I know you're mad, and you have every right to be," he began, his voice soft and sincere. "I messed up, and I'm so sorry. I got caught up in something I couldn't get out of, and I swear I was going to call you, but my phone died and the stupid car broke down. God, I'm such an idiot. I should have tried harder to reach you or get to you sooner."

Still, you said nothing, your silence more punishing than any words you could have spoken. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly at a loss.

"I love you," he whispered, almost to himself. "I just want to make things right."

For a moment, you softened, but the memory of the cold rain and the throbbing pain in your ankle kept your resolve firm. He had to understand the gravity of his actions.

Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "You can't just show up and expect everything to be okay, Joong. You scared me. I thought something terrible had happened to you. And all the while, I was the one who was hurt and alone."

"I know," he said, his voice cracking. "And I'm so, so sorry, my darling. Please, give me a chance to make it up to you."

You turned to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he got on the bus. The sincerity and regret in his gaze were undeniable.

"One chance, Kim Hongjoong," you said firmly. "Don't mess it up."

He nodded, relief washing over his face. "I won't. I promise."

With that, you leaned back against the window, still not ready to forgive, but willing to see if he could truly make amends. And for the rest of the ride, he stayed close, his presence a silent vow that he would try his best to make things right.

As you slowly drifted to sleep, he guided your head to his shoulder, gently pressing his cheek against your forehead. Feeling your breath steady and the tension ease from your body, he allowed himself a small, relieved smile. He reached for your cold hands, stroking his fingers against your skin to warm you, finding it funny how he used to judge couples in public, but now that he had you, he realised he couldn't blame them—you were all that mattered.

The truth was, he had been late leaving work today, and to make matters worse, his car had broken down in the middle of heavy traffic. When he tried to call you, his phone had died. In desperation, he had caught the quickest bus he could find, but traffic had been relentless. He could have told you all of this, but he didn’t want to make excuses. He knew he should have done better.

Hongjoong glanced down at you, his heart aching with tenderness and guilt. He was still clumsy when it came to love, but for you, he would learn to be a better lover. Stroking your hair gently, he whispered, "I’m so sorry. I won't make you wait again. I promise to do better. I promise to always be there for you."

The bus ride continued in peaceful silence, the hum of the engine and the occasional jostle of the road the only sounds. He held you close, vowing silently to never let you down again. As the bus neared your stop, he adjusted his position, cupping your cheek softly and kissing your head, whispering, "We're here, darling."

You let out a small groan as your eyes fluttered open, unconsciously snuggling closer to his warmth and comfort as you tried to register your surroundings. If only you knew what your little actions did to his poor heart. Tightening his grip around you, he helped you up from your seat and carefully guided you out of the bus, ensuring you didn't put pressure on your injured ankle. The driver gave you a sympathetic nod as the two of you stepped off. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the night was calm.

As you walked the short distance to your shared apartment, you suddenly remembered what had happened and peeled his hands off you. You weren't necessarily cold to him but you still needed space to cool off. He gulped, his fear of losing you was apparent. "Please, you're hurt. Let me take care of you."

To be fair, he knew he deserved your reaction. You weren't upset merely because of what happened today; he believed this was you letting out all the frustration you had kept in for the entirety of your one-year relationship. And he knew now that if he wanted to keep you by his side, this was his sign to take things more seriously.

No more excuses.

You had been nothing but the best and most attentive girlfriend to him. So, what was stopping him from doing the same for you?

He knew you didn't want to be near him right now, but he also didn't have the heart to stay away. Offering his hand, he nodded toward it. "Come, let's go home."

Tired out of your mind, you swallowed your anger, deciding to save it for another time. For now, you needed him. You reached out with a pout, surprising him by holding onto his pointer finger. "Fine, let's go."

He chuckled, his heart bursting with affection at how cute you were. This was better than nothing. Walking slowly, he made sure you weren't hurting yourself, each step a reminder of his promise to himself and you.

As you entered your apartment, he helped you settle onto the couch, your injured ankle elevated and cushioned. He fetched a blanket and wrapped it around you, his eyes filled with concern. "I'll make us some tea," he said softly, heading to the kitchen.

While he prepared the tea, you watched him move with a newfound determination. You could see he was trying, truly trying, to be better for you. And that thought, more than anything, began to melt the icy wall you had momentarily built up in your heart.

He returned with two steaming mugs, setting them on the table before sitting beside you. He took your hand gently, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. "I know I have a lot to make up for," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But I promise, I will. You mean everything to me."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the honesty and love there. It was a start, and as you sipped your tea together, you felt a glimmer of hope that things could truly change.

Just as you finished your tea, you sighed and looked up at him, intending to get up and head to your room. But before you could move, he gently squeezed your hand and stood up. "Let me help you," he insisted, his voice gentle yet firm.

You hesitated, feeling torn between wanting to assert your independence and appreciating his newfound care. "I can manage," you insisted weakly.

"I know you can, darling," he replied softly, crouching beside you. "But let me take care of you this time, please."

His sincerity was palpable, and despite your initial resistance, you found yourself nodding. He carefully helped you to your feet, supporting your weight as you limped towards your room. Once inside, he waited patiently as you freshened up and changed into dry clothes, his presence a reassuring warmth in the quiet of the room.

As you emerged, feeling somewhat more composed, you glanced at him gratefully. "Thank you, Joong," you murmured, genuinely touched by his unexpected tenderness.

He smiled softly, his eyes reflecting relief and determination. "It's only my job as your boyfriend," he replied earnestly.

Returning to the living room, you settled back onto the couch together. The warmth of his tea and his presence beside you enveloped you in a sense of security and hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, things could indeed change for the better between you.

You couldn't deny his affections any longer, his pleading look was enough to melt you into his embrace. As he gently pulled the throw blanket snugly around you, drawing you closer, your heart fluttered. His actions conveyed a heartfelt apology, reminding you why you could never leave this man, no matter how tiring things became. At the end of the day, you both belonged to each other, despite his occasional clumsiness; your love remained steadfast.

Nuzzling against his neck, you breathed in his familiar scent. "How's the car? Have you contacted insurance?" you murmured, slipping effortlessly into the role of the attentive girlfriend he knew so well.

With a tender smile, he shook his head. "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it. Take care of everything. Take care of you."

His words made your heart skip a beat, and you tightened your grip on his sweater. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Kim Hongjoong," you teased gently.

He reassured you with a squeeze of your shoulder. "I won't, my darling. Not anymore."

Looking up at your boyfriend, you could see the honesty in his eyes. You knew perfection wasn't guaranteed from this point onward, but you at least trusted that he would always give his best effort.

And that was what mattered most.

"If you say so," you whispered, your eyes closing as he leaned in to press his lips against yours. Hongjoong understood your doubts, but this was where he would begin to earn your trust.

From now on, he would do everything to be the lover you deserved. He would learn from his mistakes and grow, all for the sake of the person he loved most in the world.

I swear, this came out of nowhere lmfao. I was supposed to be working on Jongho's TWTHH spinoff but this happened. Tbf, this has been swirling in my mind for the past week at work because something similar happened to me. I was soaked in the rain and my heel did snap. The 3-hour wait was also a past experience of mine, except that douchebag was no Kim Hongjoong HAHA

Thank you for reading and I hope you lovelies enjoyed this random little oneshot. As always, let me know your thoughts! <3

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@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

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@bangtannie7

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[wildestdreamsblog]

The Story of Us: Unedited

Pairing: Mahwa Character!Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You wake up in the body of the second female lead in a manhwa, determined to rewrite your fate. No longer willing to be trapped in unrequited love for the elusive main lead, Min Yoongi, you set out to change the ending of the story. But leaving him behind isn’t as simple as you thought. As the lines between fiction and reality blur, the narrative begins to shift in unexpected ways—Yoongi, who was once only devoted to the main female lead, starts to see you in a new light. Can you escape the cycle of heartbreak, or will you find yourself entangled in a love story you never asked for?

or in which Yoongi found out you aren't from that world and refuses to let you leave.

A/N: This is an unedited very very very raw draft! But I wanted to share this with you before I forget the ideas and before my flight today <33 let me know what you think! ALSO I WILL EDIT THIS WHEN I GET BACK NEXT WEEK AND I WILL POST IT IN TUMBLR. okay bye ily

It was your second week in Paris when curiosity finally got the better of you. Her phone—your phone now—sat untouched on the marble nightstand of your hotel suite. You’d avoided it so far, reasoning that it felt like rifling through a stranger’s diary. But tonight, as the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower illuminated the room, you gave in.

Plugging it in, the device vibrated to life, and a flood of notifications lit up the screen. Your jaw dropped slightly as you skimmed through the endless stream of missed calls and messages. Most of them were from Yoongi.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, scrolling through the list. There were texts, voicemails, and even some emails from him, all timestamped over the last two weeks.

His messages started casual enough, asking you where you were and if you were still avoiding him. He even stopped by the mansion only to find out that you weren’t there, let alone in the country. Not one in your mansion could tell him where you were despite his endless threats. As days passed by, however, his tone shifted to frustration.

I’m not kidding anymore. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming to find you.

I am hiring a team to find you, princess.

His final message was dated today.

I do hope you remember that it is my birthday today. We always celebrate it together. We’re not gonna stop now just because you’re hiding from me.

You stared at the phone for a moment longer, the screen dark now but somehow still demanding your attention. Should you respond? What would you even say?

The phone vibrated in your hand, the screen lighting up with his name. Your stomach did a little flip, but you shook your head firmly. No. You weren’t going to answer. It was better this way—for him, for you, for the storyline. Yoongi belonged with the female lead, and the longer you stayed out of their orbit, the better.

Instead, you grabbed your jacket, ready to explore the city some more. Paris was too beautiful to waste time fretting over a fictional man’s messages. Let Yoongi wait.

But just as you opened your hotel room, there he was with his signature stoic face, his dark brow raised. He pointedly looked at your phone, his name on the screen. He had his phone on his ear, while you had yours in your hand. You were literally caught red-handed ignoring his calls.

He ended the call with a deliberate tap and tucked his phone into his pocket, his gaze never leaving yours.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shocked at his sudden appearance. He was supposed to be with her. The story said that he was supposed to be with her, celebrating with her, saving her from any other accidents or situations she found herself in.

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” His tone was calm, but the edge was unmistakable. He stepped inside as though he owned the place. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t wait for an invitation. He was just… there, filling the room with his presence like he always did. “And Paris, of all places? You’re more predictable than you think, princess.”

“I-I mean, I didn’t think you’d notice,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, already regretting how ridiculous it sounded.

“What? How could I not? You literally disappeared on the face of the earth. You think I wouldn’t notice when you disappeared? When you’re not there?”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily stunned, your thoughts scrambling for coherence. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here…” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your disbelief bled into your words, your mind struggling to reconcile his presence with what you knew—or thought you knew. “The story says you’re supposed to be with her. This isn’t—this isn’t how it goes.”

“What story?”

You blinked owlishly, realizing what you’d said. “Huh? Nothing!” you exclaimed a little too quickly, waving your hands as if to physically push the moment away. “Anyway! Happy birthday!” you added, your voice unnaturally bright, hoping to distract him.

His squint deepened, a mix of curiosity and frustration flickering in his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy your deflection, but he let it slide—for now. Without a word, he crossed the room to the small bar cart in the corner, casually pouring himself a glass of whisky.

The tension in the air was thick as he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his movements deliberate. He raised the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke, his voice low, “Glad you remember my birthday, princess.”

Okay, fine. You were at loss. How were you supposed to know what you should say? This was not in the manhwa! Yoongi was basically going off-script!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned your gaze to the door, silently willing him to leave. But Yoongi didn’t move. If anything, he seemed more determined, his presence as unyielding as ever.

“Fine,” he said after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “If you won’t come back, then I’ll stay. Paris is nice this time of year, isn’t it?”

Full story (unedited) in KoFi

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

He's My Man: That's My Girl Timestamp

Summary: Russell and reader’s casual morning plans turn into anything but when an unexpected visitor appears on their doorstep…

He’s My Man Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 2,400ish

Warnings: language, gunshot wounds, life-threatening situation

A/N: Welcome back to more Russell Shaw! This story is considered a timestamp to He’s My Man and it’s highly recommended that story be read prior to this one. Please enjoy!…

____________

You stretched your arms overhead as you padded out in your bootie slippers from the bedroom. The smell of something yummy filled your nostrils and there was a faint melody in the air. Russell’s forest green tee clung to his broad shoulders, falling loose around his tapered waist, hitting the top of his charcoal gray sweats.

“Chappell Roan this early?” you teased. 

“It’s grown on me,” he said with his back to you, bopping his head back and forth. You hummed, walking around the kitchen island to spot him making two spanish omelets. 

“God, I love that you know how to cook,” you said, pecking a kiss on his cheek before going to the fridge to get out some orange juice.

“I’ve heard that once or…” he trailed off as he turned his head, jaw dropping slightly. You looked down, OJ in hand. You were wearing your favorite yellow pajama shorts but you had a feeling it was the peach bralette you wore he was stuck on. His lips curled up as you reached over, pushing the pan off the heat before he burned breakfast. “Where’s your shirt?”

“Huh. Must have lost it.” You looked up through your lashes, Russell smirking when you stepped back. “What a shame.”

“I might have to disagree with you there,” he said, pouting when you pointed at the skillet.

“Breakfast first, then dessert.” He grumbled to himself but smiled all the same. You scooted behind him and got out two glasses. “Do you want to eat on the porch?”

“Set us up at the island, qark. I don’t want you to get too cold outside,” he said, sliding an omelet onto a waiting plate. You worked around each other easily, Russell getting the food on the plates and dressing it with a creamy green avocado sauce he’d whipped up with the blender.

You took a seat, Russell taking a bow as he set it on the mat in front of you, kissing your forehead and taking his own seat beside you.

“So what’s on the agenda today?” he asked between bites. You shoveled a large bite in your mouth, a delicious explosion of flavors hitting your taste buds.

“After dessert,” you said, Russell brushing his leg against yours, making sure to touch as he cut off a piece of breakfast, “I was thinking I’d join you out at the brewery. They’re framing the building today, right?”

“Yeah. It’s starting to feel real,” he said, a quiet sigh under his breath. “I’m scared I fucked up. What if I threw all that money away on a pipe dream?”

You set your knife and fork down, frowning at him. “Russ. Your beer tastes amazing. You have investors, remember? They believe in you. If it doesn’t go well, then so what? At least you tried and I will always be proud of you for that. We’ll be okay. Now stop worrying about the money and let me handle the budgets, okay?”

“Alright,” he relented. “To be fair, I probably should let the woman that somehow had hospital grade medical equipment in the backroom of a warehouse run the books.”

“Exactly,” you said, Russell rubbing your leg with his left hand as he picked up his fork and ate again. “To be fair, it wasn’t that hard to get. The whole mob connection thing.”

“This is true. You’ve been running your own business for years.”

“Yes, which is why when I say to chill babe, chill. You have a great business plan,” you said. “Plus an amazing partner.”

“She’s so modest too,” he chuckled, wolfing back the last of his eggs. He clapped his hands together, turning to face you. “Dessert time.”

“Eh, I’m still eating,” you said, pointing at your plate. He faked a pout before he was up, cleaning up the kitchen and saving the leftover sauce in the fridge. You barely had your fork down when he was taking your plate and shoving it in the dishwasher. “Russell.”

He bounced around the island, far too adorable for a forty year old man, hands on your hips and a deep grin on his face. 

“Yes, wonderful?” he teased, pulling you to the edge of the stool. You wrapped your legs around his waist, Russell’s hands under your ass lifting you up as your gripped his shoulders. “New agenda. How about we make out a bit, let our tummies settle, then we can get our exercise in for the day-”

“Russell,” you groaned, pressing your forehead to his.

“Then we’ll pop over to the brewery for a bit, I can help you research your next job this afternoon, you can call Colter and harass him about making sure he’s still doing his stretches-”

“It is not harassment-”

“And then I’ll cook up that salmon in the fridge on the grill for dinner and we can watch X-Files on the back porch under a blankie.” 

“I love that you say blankie,” you teased, kissing the tip of his nose. “Sounds like a great day, Mulder.”

“Hey. I know things about the lizard people, Scully,” he chuckled, carrying you off towards the bedroom.

“Oh yes. I forget you’re such an expert,” you said as tires screeched outside. You shared a look for only a split second, Russell setting you down and grabbing the hidden gun safe from the end table. He had it in his hands in less than two seconds, nodding as you ran back into the bedroom and got yours out of the closet. 

Fists pounded on the front door, Russell’s weapon aimed at it when you returned, yours going towards the garage entrance.

“Russ! Open up!” Russell lowered his gun, scrunching up his face at the voice. “Shaw! Open the fucking door!”

“Stay back,” Russell said quietly. He jogged up to the front of the house, pulling back a curtain. “Jesus fuck.” He tore open the front door, two of Russell’s special ops friends standing there.

Well, standing was a stretch. 

“What the fuck happened, Hank?” said Russell, throwing his arm around Kelly who was very much actively bleeding from the abdomen. 

“I fucked up,” he said, Hank staring at you. “Can you fix her?”

You did a quick survey and spotting four, no five, bullet wounds littering the left side of her body.

“She needs a hospital-” Hank grunted, Kelly nearly passed out in his arms.

“They will find us there. Please. We knew the risk of not going. Please just try,” said Hank. You closed your eyes, setting the gun down on the island.

“She’d have better odds at a hospital,” you said, going to the pantry and grabbing the black bag tucked away at the top. You went to the dining room table, shoving chairs out of the way and ripping open the bag, pulling a blue tarp out and laying it out. “Don’t just stand there, get her down.”

You let the guys get her down, Russell shoving a throw pillow under her head while you washed at the kitchen sink. You snapped on a pair of gloves, digging through your bag and pulling out supplies left and right. Russell ran off into the garage, returning with one of his shop lights and attaching it to the light fixture overhead to give you more visibility.

“Russell,” you said, organizing your tools while tossing an orange box at Hank. “I need you to scrub your hands and put on gloves. Hank, cut off Kelly’s shirt and bra and open that box. Attach the leads to the right side of Kelly’s chest and then turn the box so I can see the numbers on the screen. What’s your blood type?”

“O positive,” he said, fumbling with his hands as she did as asked. “S-She’s A positive.”

“Good,” you said, pulling out tubing and handing it to him. “Tourniquet your arm and call Doug when you’re done. Tell him to break into the nearest blood bank.”

“Blood bank? Why not a clinic?” asked Hank as you got a good look at Kelly’s wounds. Her very, very bad wounds.

“Because I’m not fucking over some patient when a doctor in an emergency goes to their supply and finds it drained. Get it from the bank where odds are less likely it’ll impact someone,” you said, Russell appearing by your side, blood staining his shirt and pants already. He nodded, watching you grab the tubing and shove the needle into the exposed vein on Hank’s arm. “Let’s pray this fucking works.”

Twelve Hours Later

You checked Kelly’s pulse as she stirred awake, her eyes hazy from the strong pain killers you’d given her.

“Hey,” she whispered, glancing around. “Am I on your dining table?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. Last second decision,” you said, adjusting the sheet over her body. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. “Do you feel cold?”

“Just my feet,” she said. You looked down, smiling to where they were uncovered.

“I’ll get you some of my fuzzy socks. Nothing in your stomach, no chills?” She shook her head barely an inch but it was good enough. “Alright. Sounds like no internal bleeding right now then. I’m going to keeping checking every hour so you’ll probably want to throttle me by morning for not letting you sleep.”

“S’okay,” she mumbled. “How’m alive?”

You rested a hand on her head, stroking it gently. “You have either extremely shitty luck or extremely good luck. You were hit five times. Once in the arm, through and through, non life threatening. Three hit your rib cage and got stuck. A sliver more and that would have been it. The last one was tricky. Gut shot. Thankfully, it missed your digestive tract or you would have been septic or dead by now. Bad news is you no longer have a spleen. But again, in terms of if you have to get shot in an organ, the spleen’s a pretty good one to pick.”

“Thank you.” You hummed, Kelly forcing her eyes open. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” you asked. 

“I told Hank to let us take our chances, that Russ was out of this life. We should never have brought this to your front door.” You smiled, leaning down so she could see you better.

“You guys helped me with Owen and you didn’t even know me. I will always help Russell’s friends,” you said. She smiled a smidge, relaxing when you wiped a washcloth over her face. “You don’t have to worry. The boys are dealing with those guys that shot you right now. You’re safe.”

“I’m so sorry to make Russ-”

“Russell’s a big boy. He doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to and trust me, he was more than happy to go fuck up the people that tried to kill you. So you focus on resting and I’ll be right here, okay?” She hummed, her eyes darting down to where dried blood clung to your chest.

“Did you operate on me only wearing a bra?”

“...It’s a long story.” You glanced at the monitor near her head, her heart rate and blood pressure looking good at the moment. “So. When did you and Hank become a thing?”

“Me and Hank?” she asked with a pout. “We’re not…I’d like to be, you know, more but…”

You smiled, Kelly’s brow unfurling. “He has been a nervous wreck all day. You two ought to have that talk. In the meantime, let me walk you through next steps.”

The sun was just starting to break the horizon when the door to the garage opened. You sipped from your cup of coffee, glancing over Kelly’s wounds, no sign of infection by some miracle. She had a long road ahead of her but her making it through the night gave you hope she’d be able to recover.

“Hey,” said Russell quietly, giving you a small smile you returned as Hank trailed in on his heels. Russell nodded as Hank rushed over, taking the chair on the other side of the table and taking Kelly’s hand in his.

“How’s she doing?” asked Hank as you rose to your feet.

“Hanging in there. It’d be better if we could get her in a more sterile environment, had more equipment to monitor her vitals,” you said.

“We have a medical evac on the way now that the…issue’s been dealt with,” he said. You relaxed a bit at that. Her odds were much better if you could get her in an ICU with a dedicated team.

“Good,” you said when faint sirens sounded in the distance. “Let’s help clear a path so they can get her out of her fast.”

Thirty minutes later the house was quiet. You put a hand on your head as you looked around the room. Blood was everywhere. You were thirsty, starving, needed to pee and caked in dried blood that made your skin itch. 

“Come on,” said Russell, taking your hand and leading you back towards your bedroom. 

“I should clean up-”

“Later. You have more than earned a shower and some rest.” Russell tugged you behind himself, lifting you up and carrying you straight into the bathroom. “You didn’t sleep at all.”

“Neither did you,” you said, gently set down on the shower seat. 

“Yeah, well I didn’t perform major surgery in a kitchen yesterday for eight hours,” he said. You rested your head against the tile wall, Russell peeling your clothes away and tossing them in a pile on the floor. “Thank you for saving Kelly.”

“She could still die,” you mumbled.

“You did extraordinary for what we had on hand,” he said, arms around you again. “Now let’s clean you up.”

You peeled open your eyes around lunchtime, the air smelling of disinfectant. Rain was hitting the roof, Russell popping his head in just as you sat up. 

“Hey,” you yawned, holding the covers to your body. 

“Hello my queen of darkness.” He stepped in the room with a sleepy smile, kissing you before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. His long fingers fixed your hair behind your ear, grazing your cheek. “Jammies are on the bench when you’re ready to get up and the house is all set.”

“Russ, I could have helped-” He pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you.

“You did help. My friend is alive because of you. Now are you going to let me take care of you today?” You grumbled but nodded, laying back down in bed. “That’s my girl.”

“...Give me another hour of sleep,” you whispered.

“Whatever you need, sweetie. Anything at all.”

___________

[most-tragic-character-tournament]

So,

What a wild ride, everybody.

This tournament went live on July 13th, 3023, and concluded January 1st, 2024. For a long time before, I’d been wondering if I should try my hand at running one of these tournaments, and then I realized we hadn’t had a general tumblr-wide one for tragic characters. I knew that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I decided to bite the bullet and take the URL. The rest is history.

I didn’t have a set plan, but I figured I could take 128 entries. And then in less than a week and a half, I had ~122. And honestly, I wasn’t happy continuing with just those I’d gotten so far, and thought it’d be unfair if it closed that quickly without warning, so I decided to up it to 256 with a max 2 characters per canon after preliminaries. Only after that did I go on a mad search to find brackets that were big enough for that, and I’d almost given up before I finally found these:

Those are all the characters that made it past prelims and into the competition. Some quite unexpected results came out of these matchups, round after round, and honestly I’d consider the first round to have had the most brutal competitions, because I had tried to do the best I could to match levels of popularity with each other, as far as I could tell. (Yeah, that’s why we had c!Tommy v Jon Sims and Primrose v Jinx.). But even eclipsing all of those, as the weeks went on, we were eventually met with Antigone versus Lloyd Garmadon. Ah, those crazy kids.

At some points it was stressful, in the early rounds when I had dozens of posts, each with edited images and alt text, to prepare for every round, but I never regretted starting this. As of posting, this blog has 2,020 followers and has made over 1,000 posts. This will be the last post on this blog—any future asks I receive I will answer privately back to the asker, or cannot be answered if they are anon—but it will always remain here for posterity. The link below is to the similarly-preserved google sheet compiling every word of every submission this tournament ever received.

I’d like to take this chance to say thank you to everyone who submitted characters, supplied photos, sent in propaganda, reblogged the polls, indoctrinated their teachers into greeklitsweep, and everyone who kept good sportsmanship when their blorbos proved so tragic they couldn’t even win. Thank you to the small group of URLs whom I’ve consistently recognized in my inbox from submissions all the way to finals, thank you for letting me know when a name was messed up, and thank you for your patience in-between rounds. (Shoutout to @elemom as well for having their tiktok on the original antigone/lloyd poll blow up.)

If you’ve stumbled upon this blog weeks, months, or even years after this was posted, I would direct your attention to the tag map in the pinned post to sift through the tumblr history you’ve just uncovered. And I would also be tempted to point at the big sign next to it reciting the nuclear zone warning poem. Lastly, if anyone here or there wishes to talk to me about anything regarding the tournament, you’re welcome to DM @twilight-skies.

There were times when I said to myself this was a one-and-done thing—I was NOT dealing with this again, but….keep a look on the horizon, ya never know.

But until next time, it’s been amazing.

Sayonara you weeaboo shits.

[daisyvisions]

[9:51PM] Change of Plan - (c.ch)

Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), dom!reader x sub!Chanhee, handjob, edging, begging, handcuffs, humiliation, blackmailing (but it will never go public), mentions of attempted manipulation, panty stealing, perverted tendencies, cum eating, allusions to more sexual acts, pet name (good boy), Word count: 0.8K

A/N: Part 2 to this fic! (sorry for the wait to those who were asking for it huhu) I was having a hard time trying to find the right tone for the second part of the story but here we are! Another timestamp for y’all hehe proofread once! Tagging @deoboyznet @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers @winterchimez

Chanhee couldn't believe it. To be here with you in this moment almost exactly how he wanted it to be, the way he’s thought about you like this in his late-night fantasies is finally coming true. He has you where he wanted you to be, his plan actually worked!

Well… sort of.

The one thing he did not consider was that he’d be completely chained up to his bedpost, unable to touch you the way he wanted to.

It was totally unexpected really, how both of you would end up in this situation. Chanhee stuck handcuffed to his bed while you continuously tease and edge him for the nth time tonight. Tears running down his cheeks as he begs you to just let him reach his high.

But little did he know while he was concocting his plan to have you as his that he was playing with the wrong person. In fact, you might’ve been even freakier than he was (but he didn't need to know that right now).

“Please let me touch you, I promise I’ll be good.” He cries out. You chuckle in response as you continue fisting his length.

“I highly doubt that.” Chanhee whimpers as you tighten your grip on him.

“Isn’t this what you wanted Chanhee? Isn't this what you’ve been planning all along?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “So be a good boy and take what I give you!”

That last statement definitely got his cock throbbing in your hands. You being a dominant was definitely something he did not expect but here he is, turning into a mess because of it.

This was not the plan at all! The plan was to spread rumors around campus on how heartbroken he was when you rejected him, eventually everyone at school would make you feel bad about it, you’d say sorry and start over, become friends, throw a grand party at his place, and finally get you loosened up enough to want to have some more fun with him.

The plan was going smoothly, nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever! But one thing Chanhee failed to take into consideration was holding back his perverted tendencies with you, especially when he would secretly steal your panties and bring them home with him.

That is how you discovered his ulterior motives to your so-called “friendship” as you wandered around his room and eventually found your missing underwear in his not-so-secret drawer full of other erotic items… Which is how Chanhee ended up being chained to the bed by his own handcuffs.

He should’ve known your sudden advances towards him when he came back to the room were suspicious. But no, he only thought with his dick in that moment.

The feeling of your body pressed against his as you made him get close to his headboard, pinning his hands above his head while kissing his neck. And before he knew it he heard the clinking sound of metal and the cold material wrapped around his wrists.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum, Please let me cum!” He whines as he continues to struggle in place. You take a while to respond, his eyes pleading for you to let him release his load but instead of a “yes” you pull out your phone.

“W-what are you doing?!” Chanhee’s eyes grow big.

“If you wanna cum, admit that you’re a little pervert for stealing my panties.”

“Never!” He protests.

“But don’t you wanna cum already? It’s very simple.” You smile as you continue to jerk him off vigorously, pointing the camera in his direction.

Chanhee’s still hesitant, but if he doesn’t say anything his balls might just explode.

“Alright fine!” He lets out a big sigh. “I’m- I’m a pervert and I stole your underwear!”

“Ooh such a good boy!” You coo at him. “Alright you can cum.”

As soon as you give him permission his load started spilling in globs, most of it landing on your hand and on his stomach. You’ve never seen someone cum this much, especially because you were the reason for it. You inspect his release on your hand, mesmerized by how it looked under the low light. The sight alone made your core throb harder than you cared to admit.

“Hey uh…” Chanhee mumbles, making you look back at him. “Can you unlock me now? My wrists are starting to hurt.” He shakes the handcuffs as he says this. You don’t respond for a while, a sudden idea coming to mind as you smirk back at him.

“I’ll only let you go if… you give me another load.” You lick your hand coated in his essence before climbing on top of him, opening his jaw and spitting in his mouth.

“Fuck-” Chanhee hisses, feeling his cock kicking again by how turned on he is right now.

“Our little secret okay?” You look into his eyes as he just nods in return.

Guess Chanhee did get what he wanted after all, but better than he could ever imagine.

[happyfoolz]

unexpected. — a txt smau (+ written chapters!)

summary: y/n has had a crush on soobin — the cute waiter from her favorite restaurant — for a while now. but when she's sure things will finally work out for her, she finds out her dreams don't always come true.

a/n: hello! i haven't written much in the past year and a half so i apologize if this is a little messy. and i'm sorry for the weird first plot, it came to me in a dream (literally) and i just ran with it. oh and also! i always pay a lot of attention to timestamps and all, so they might be important sometimes. just an fyi!

disclaimer: this is a fictional story with fictional characters. it's not meant to represent the real idols in any way. y/n is basically an original character that you can name.

rating: 16+ probably

release date: nov. 7th, 2024

status: in progress

featuring: all of txt, lea huening, chaewon and yunjin from le sserafim. others might be mentioned.

content: smau + written chapters, non-idol fic, fluff, crack, probably some angst tbh bc apparently i love making characters suffer, slice of life i guess, waitstaff!choi line, strangers to friends to lovers???, all characters are in their early to mid twenties

warnings: explicit language, mentions of (and jokes about) sex, might have some suggestive parts but no smut so nothing explicit, written chapters might be long... i'm sorry.

wanna join the taglist? please fill out this form!

chapters under the cut!

PROFILES: five stars | tea time

01. prophetic dream

02. funny story...

03. tiny waiter (wc: 1.9k + sns)

04. shut up

(more tba...)

[soon-palestine]

An interactive evacuation zone map, touted by the Israeli military as an innovation in humanitarian process, was revealed to rely on a subset of an internal Israeli military intelligence database. The US-based software developer who revealed the careless error has determined -> that the database was in use since at least 2022 and was updated through December of 2023.

On Tuesday, July 9th, we discovered an interactive version of the evacuation map while examining a page on the IDF's Arabic-language website accessible via a QR code -> published on an evacuation order leaflet.

The map is divided into "population blocks" an IDF term to refer to the 620 polygons used to divide Gaza into sectors that a user can zoom into and out of.

However each request to the site pulls not only the polygon -> boundaries but the demographic information assigned to that sector, including which families - and how many. members - live there.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐩𝐬:

Evacuation maps have played a central role -> in determining which sectors of Gaza were deemed "safe", but repeated instances of Israeli bombing in "safe" sectors has prompted international bodies to state "nowhere in Gaza is safe"

To determine how these sectors have been affected over time, assess the presence of vital -> civilian infrastructure, and gauge the potential impact on the population following the military's evacuation calls to Gaza City residents, the latest of which was two days ago, our team created a map tied to a database using software known as a "geographic information system” -> With the help of volunteer GIS developers, our map of Gaza included individual layers for hospitals, educational facilities, roads, and municipal boundaries.

This endeavor took an unexpected turn earlier this week when we started to work on -> the layer of "evacuation population blocks"

using a map shared to the Israeli military's Arabic site. Unlike static images, these maps responded interactively to zooming and panning. A software developer suggested that dynamic interaction was possible because the coordinates -> of various "population blocks" were delivered to the browser with each request, potentially retrieving the coordinates of the "population blocks" in real time and overlaying them on the map we were building.

The software developer delved into the webpage's source code -> —a practice involving the inspection of code delivered to every visitor's browser by the website. The source code of every website is publicly available and delivered to visitors on every page request. It functions "under the hood" of the website and can be viewed without -> any specialized tools or form of hacking.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐚

Upon examination, the data retrieved by the dynamic evacuation map included much more than just geographical coordinates. The source code contained a table from an unknown GIS -> database with numerous additional fields labelled in Hebrew.

These fields included population estimates for each block, details of the two largest clans in each block (referred to as “CLAN”), rankings based on unknown criteria -> and timestamps indicating when records were last updated.

Some data terms, such as "manpower_e," were ambiguous for us to interpret, possibly referring to either the number of fighters or the necessary personnel to maintain the area -> Using this information we determined that Block 234, Abu Madin was last updated on 27 April 2022. This suggests that Israel's effort to divide Gaza into 620 "population blocks" began one and a half years before the current Israeli offensive -> Additional modification dates indicate that the military updated data in this field regularly throughout October and November, before formally publishing it on the arabic Israeli military webpage on December 1, 2023.

It appears that the IDF has accidentally published -> a subset of their internal intelligence

GIS database in an effort to impress the world with a novel, humanitarian evacuation aid. It is easier to retrieve a database in its entirety than to write a properly selective query. Such mistakes are common among programmers that lack -> experience, security training, or are simply unwilling or unable to do meet standard data security requirements for a project.

𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬 -> In January, Israeli security chiefs proposed a plan for "the day after" where Palestinian clans in the Gaza Strip would temporarily administer the coastal enclave. In this concept, each clan would handle humanitarian aid and resources for their local regions. Israeli assessments of the proposal suggested such a plan would fail due to "lack of will" and retaliation by Hamas against clans willing to collaborate with the army. The plan has since been modified to include Hamas-free “bubbles,” (as reported by the Financial Times) -> where local Palestinians would gradually take over aid distribution responsibilities.

As this plan is to be initially implemented in Beit Hanoun and Beit Lahia. Al-Atatrah Area and Beit Hanoun, we have analyzed the information in the database assigned to those three areas -> Israeli army classified the Al-Atatrah area as region 1741, although there are only 620 'blocks' on the map. The registered population was listed as 949, last updated by the IDF on October 9th. We assume this represents an estimate by the IDF of current residents as of Oct 9th. Residents of Al-Atatrah were among the first to evacuate following the initial bombardment on October 7th and 8th and were not given a formal notification to evacuate. The Israeli military noted that the Abo Halima family comprised 54% of the block’s population -> In area west of the town Beit Hanoun, Israel had desginated the Almasri clan as the largest in the sector, consisting 18% of the block's population. Second largest was the Hamad family, with11% of the block's population. This area were also associated with rankings, however -> without the criteria used to determine the ranking, these numbers are difficult to interpret.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥?

Although some of the data were inadvertently truncated during publication, posing challenges for comprehensive -> interpretation, this database provides a valuable window into the Israeli military's perspective on Gaza.

For one, it prompts questions into why the military had already partitioned Gaza into 620 population blocks a year an a half before October 7th -> This suggests an early inclination to implement a governance policy where clans would assume authoritative roles, as well as detailed population surveillance. Tracking dense populations in the chaos of urban warfare is a difficult task -> It may be that the QR code on the evacuation map actively collects the locations of people who scan it, allowing the IDF to collect real-time data on Palestinians in Gaza as they attempt to find safety.

END

[shitouttabuck]

Hi! Hope you don’t mind my dropping in. I just read let the world have its way with you and thank you I had to sniff back tears on the plane it was so lovely 🥺😍. Question, and if you’ve answered this before I’m so sorry but I just have to know: how did Buck react when inevitably he sees the photos taken of him and Eddie at Halloween? Thank you again for this fic and I’m sending you all the good vibes of an unexpected humpback whale breech.

hello!!!! thank you so much for dropping in to say these lovely things!!! to answer your question: yes, a bunch of people have asked this actually, but no, i’ve never had a reply until now ! your message sparked something haha so here you go, have a little bucket list fic timestamp:

a thousand times (which isn’t half enough)

buck/eddie | 2k | t

“Oh, ow, what the fuck,” Buck says, wincing as he snatches back his hand.

Eddie glares at him, no hint of remorse while he crumples the dish towel he just whipped Buck’s fingers with before putting his hands on his hips in that perfectly bitchy way he’s got down to an art. “I’m supposed to be doing the cooking, I’m the one who’s actually made this before,” he tells Buck, stepping forward to stir the curry and jostling Buck out of the way. “You’re sous chef today.”

“And this is in no way an objection to that kitchen hierarchy, or a criticism of your cooking capabilities,” Buck says, hands up pacifyingly, “but Eddie. I’ve eaten this enough times at Ravi’s to know this is, uh, nowhere close to the colour it’s meant to be.”

“What do you mean,” Eddie frowns, stirring and peering down into the large saucepan, dent in the side courtesy of Buck’s clumsiness nearly half a decade ago. “It’s a—process. A culinary journey. I’m sure it’ll be the right colour when we’re done. It just needs some time.”

“Eddie, it’s green.”

“Plenty of curries are green. Thai green curry, it’s even got it in the name.”

“Eddie,” Buck says, trying not to laugh at the disgruntled furrow in Eddie’s brow, “I don’t think Ravi’s traditional beef curry is supposed to be green at any stage.”

Eddie’s face scrunches as he squints down at the curry he’s stirring, thick and aromatic and unexpectedly pea-soup coloured.

“Oh God,” he says, staring at the spoonful he’s ladled out. “You’re right. Fuck. How the fuck did it get to—this? Fuck, Bobby and Athena are gonna be here in—” He glances at the wall clock, “—an hour, oh my God, Buck, that’s not enough time to fix this.”

Buck rolls his eyes, hip-checking Eddie in a way he hopes is comforting but not bothering to try and ease any of Eddie’s—quite frankly ridiculous—anxiety about seeing Bobby socially for the first time since the engagement.

He knows the nervousness stems entirely from the fact that Eddie didn’t ask Bobby for his blessing before proposing to Buck, which he’s teased Eddie for endlessly, declaring it old-fashioned and archaic even if there’s something achingly sweet about the intentions with which Eddie went into it.

It did not end up prefacing their engagement. Apparently Eddie’d been testing the waters, gearing up to propose when he hoped the moment was right. Except, then, one night on the couch, watching telenovela reruns, Buck had made an offhand comment about the bride on-screen taking her husband’s last name despite being of the girlboss variety one might expect not to, and how in context it was a win for cheesy romance but maybe a hiccup for some kind of feminism somewhere.

And Eddie, one arm curled around Buck from behind, scratching at his stomach gently as he spoke, had sleepily and thoroughly unintentionally mumbled, “Would you wanna do that with me?”

Buck had blinked and asked what, and Eddie’d yawned and said, “Take my last name.”

Buck had laughed through the want and said, “Careful, Diaz, you might give a guy the idea that he’s being proposed to.”

And Eddie went stiff behind him for a full five seconds, Buck not daring to breathe either, before wrapping his other arm around Buck too, kiss to his temple and a quiet, “And if that was the idea intended?”

And so they’d gotten engaged and had to get the couch dry-cleaned and Eddie was made to pass on his well-meaning, antiquated desire to profess his intentions to Bobby prior to the actual proposal. Which is fine, obviously, but they’ve been engaged just going on three weeks and Bobby and Athena are coming around for dinner, and that, on top of committing himself to captaining an unfamiliar culinary adventure—something decidedly not in the Eddie Diaz wheelhouse—has Eddie strung the fuck out, mild and amusing as it may be.

“Okay, uh, I’m just gonna look at the original recipe again, not the one Ravi altered for white people,” Eddie says, looking around. “Can you get it? Phone’s charging in the bedroom, I think it should just be in the media roll of my chat with Ravi, he sent me a photo of his grandmother’s recipe book.”

“His grandma’s? What did you do to gain access to his family recipes? I feel like I should be jealous.”

“We exchanged abuela secret recipes,” Eddie shrugs. “You already have a direct open line of communication with my grandmother. I think you text her more than me.”

This is true; Isabel is a formidable opponent in online Scrabble and likes to get Buck’s thoughts on the weekly MasterChef episode. She’s his family as much as Eddie’s, and Buck was just teasing anyway, but he skips to their bedroom with a pleased grin nonetheless.

Eddie’s phone is nearly fully charged, so he just unplugs it, typing Ravi’s name into the message app search bar. A few clicks and then he’s snorting at the last image Ravi sent Eddie: a meme of Steve Buscemi saying how do you do, fellow kids? with a rainbow flag Photoshopped over the skateboard he’s carrying. Ravi’s succinctly captioned it, “you,” and Eddie has thumbs-downed it without deigning to respond.

Buck scrolls through the media roll quickly, scanning the images for something that resembles a recipe book or an old lady’s handwriting. It’s mostly memes, some goofy photos of each other taken on one of their phones during slow shifts, and—that’s a picture of Buck. Two pictures of Buck.

He pauses, frowning at the adjacent squares in the media roll. It’s not that it’s unexpected that Eddie and Ravi would have photos of Buck, it’s just—Buck’s usually seen them, too. He has most definitely not seen these pictures.

He clicks on the first one, feeling almost nervous. And, oh. It’s from Halloween the year before last, when everyone else was sick and he and Eddie went to that big gay party. He’s in his Sandy get-up, looking—pretty slutty, actually. He hums appreciatively, re-experiencing the leather pants and crop top and heels. In the photo, his eyes are shut, head tilted back to the music, cheeks pink and red-painted lips ajar. And then he takes in the other side of the photo.

Eddie, watching Buck through the crowd not unlike a lion zeroing in on a gazelle. His mouth is parted too, but—his eyes. It’s like he’s undressing Buck right there in public with just his gaze. Jesus, it’s like he’s doing so much more than undressing him—Buck half-expects the picture to swirl into motion, see Eddie stride across the dance floor and bend Buck over in front of everyone present.

It's not a wholly unfamiliar expression now, to Buck who’s had Eddie like this for over a year, but this was from before they were together. This was before Buck knew Eddie wanted him in any way but platonic. And even then, the kind of raw, unmasked desire plastered across Eddie’s face? Like he wants to swallow Buck whole and keep him there, inside Eddie, close as possible, for the rest of time? That’s the kind of intensity Eddie only reveals on occasion, a vulnerability that’s a certain effort to access.

That doesn’t mean Eddie holds back or censors himself in their sex lives, not anymore, not for a long time now. It’s just—this is the kind of want that comes from a place without adequate words to communicate it, a near animal desperation that’s taxing for the everyday.

And here it is, unmistakeable, before Buck even knew. Eddie, so good at the suppression and the repression in that era, unable to escape the honesty of his hunger with just one look.

Buck swallows and adjusts himself in his pants.

The second picture is—oh. It’s of him and Eddie dancing during the Grease song, when Eddie had held him close and dipped Buck like he’d been doing it all his life. It’s—oh. He can’t believe Eddie’s not shown him this one before, because—there’s so much love contained inside this photograph, he can feel it seeping out of the phone and into his hands, liquid sunshine.

Buck’s head is thrown back, face scrunched in delighted laughter, and Eddie’s so close, beaming at him with nothing short of adoration. It’s pouring out of him, clear as day, the happiness in this single photo a tangible thing even over a year later.

Buck kind of wants to urge the him in the picture to open his eyes, see the way Eddie’s looking at him. But then again, the way Eddie looked at him didn’t really change, before and after. So maybe he wouldn’t have clocked it as anything other than Eddie’s everyday love, so far from the romance column in his own tangled-up brain at the time it wouldn’t have mattered.

He wanders back to the kitchen, swiping back to the first photo. Heat licks its way up his spine, uncaring of the fact that they have dinner guests and no time for this. He slouches in the kitchen doorway, watching Eddie chop cilantro carefully.

“What?” Eddie frowns. “I’m in a crisis, Buck, don’t look at me like that, it’s not helpful.”

Buck clears his throat. “Like what?”

“Like you’re eyefucking me so hard I might undergo immaculate conception.”

Buck can’t focus on the nearly painfully arousing implications of that, but never let it be said his horniness surpasses—rightful—indignation. “Me?” he asks incredulously. “Eyefucking you? That’s fucking rich, considering the contents of these.” He waves Eddie’s phone at him for emphasis.

“What’s that,” Eddie asks impatiently. “Where’s my recipe?”

“Oh,” Buck says. “I didn’t actually get that far.”

Eddie makes a noise of irritation, washing his hands and reaching out for his phone. “What the hell have you been—oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Buck says. “How come you’ve never shown me these before?”

Eddie flushes, even more than the heat of the kitchen can take credit for. “I dunno. I guess I just look so… I dunno.”

“So in love with me?” Buck asks, mouth quirking up on one side. He steps forward, wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist.

Eddie sighs, listing forward in Buck’s grasp. “I mean—yeah. I guess I was just thrown by how obvious the, I don’t know, enormity of my—the way I felt about you was. And by the time I was okay with it—the enormity and the obviousness—I kinda forgot about these.”

Buck turns his head, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s hairline. Eddie lifts his face, searching for Buck’s mouth with his own, and Buck happily obliges, kissing him gently.

“Well, I’m sending these to myself,” Buck informs him, “and then we’re getting the second one framed and hung up in our room.”

“Is that the less horny one?” Eddie asks.

“They’re both plenty horny,” Buck says, “but yeah. Marginally less.”

“Fine,” Eddie allows. “But it will be subject to temporary removal if and when my parents come stay.”

“Deal,” Buck agrees, and then leans back in to kiss Eddie again.

He uses his grip on Eddie’s waist to steer them back, caging Eddie against the counter and lining his body flush along the length of Eddie’s, thigh to hip to chest. Eddie sighs contentedly, hand sneaking under the back of Buck’s shirt to splay across his bare skin. His jeans have a delicious heavy-weight friction to them, and Buck tries to angle himself so he can rock against Eddie lazily. He opens his own mouth under Eddie’s, trying valiantly to deepen the kiss, have Eddie lick into him hot and sweet, but Eddie pulls back.

“The curry,” he says mournfully. “Bobby and Athena.”

Buck groans, taking the edge off it by leaning in to kiss the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “You are so overthinking this Bobby thing. I’m not a woman in the early 1900s. Bobby’s technically not even my—”

“He is, though,” Eddie interrupts. “As far as it matters.”

“Okay,” Buck agrees, because that’s true. “But why are you so hung up on being old-school traditional here?”

Eddie huffs. “Sometimes tradition is good. It’s not like I’d have been asking permission to marry you, just. Wanting to have his—I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, I’m not some blushing bride.” Buck kisses the other corner of Eddie’s mouth, making it quirk up into a smile.

“Debatable,” he murmurs, and Buck pinches him at his waist. He squirms, grinning.

“We’re getting married,” Buck tells him, and Eddie lights up so incandescently Buck thinks even the Halloween photograph doesn’t know such happiness. “Bobby’s really happy for us. A curry’s not gonna change any of that.”

“I know,” Eddie says, sighs. “This is just the first time since—I just really wanted to show him I can be good for you, too.”

Buck gapes at him. “Are you—Eddie. Are you serious?”

Eddie shrugs one shoulder, looking embarrassed. Buck takes a step back so he can grab both Eddie’s hands in his own.

“I’m not even gonna—mention the bucket list,” he says, “but Eddie. Eddie. Why do you think Bobby made us partners in the first place?”

Eddie huffs a laugh, but it’s a real one. “I know, okay, but this just—we’re getting married, Buck.”

“And watch him take credit for it in his wedding speech,” Buck says.

Eddie smiles at him, but the underlying current of nerves is still thrumming, visible to Buck a step away.

“Okay,” he says, one final kiss to the centre of Eddie’s mouth. Eddie chases it when he pulls away, but he stands firm. “Let’s save this curry and the sanctity of our marriage to-be. Tomorrow, though, tomorrow, you’re putting on the greaser jeans and fucking me into the mattress.”

Eddie snorts, cheeks pink again. “Sounds like a plan.” He opens his phone, searching for the original recipe.

The ingredients are read aloud, and when Buck swings shut the fridge door as he confirms them, the faded yellow list pinned with a star-shaped magnet looks back at him, ready to have scribbled-out number 5 ticked off completely, wholly, permanently. Buck’s already there with start a family, but get married? He doesn’t think he could’ve imagined it being as good as this.

And if this piece of paper accompanies them to the courthouse, actual marriage certificate second in importance, that’s for him and Eddie to know, because the list doesn’t end, but God, does it feel good to live through it.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

previous Chapter here Chapter Two - word count 5.9k Notes/Warnings - 18+ only, profanity, alcohol, brief female masturbation ◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈◈ A few hours had passed from the time Loren and Gary left the event, to the time where Loren picked up her phone to text William.  The fact she even had his number at all left her mind reeling.

He’s just a guy.  Only a guy.  And are we interested in guys right now?  No, we are not. Loren silently reminded herself as she inhaled deeply.

Nerves shot through her stomach as she started to type a message.

Hey William, it’s Loren.  Gary’s home safe and he’s resting now.  Hope you have a great night!

After she pressed send, she threw her phone into her purse and tucked it away on the kitchen counter.  With her shift about to end, and with the final rush of adrenaline with sending a text to “the” William Nylander, Loren’s head was beginning to pound.  She took a couple of headache tablets before saying goodbye to her co-workers and the rest of the residents, hopped into her dated SUV and headed home.  As a means of decompressing, the 20-minute drive was silent.  No streamed music and no radio; only her recollections from that afternoon played in her mind.

Relief washed over her as she pulled into her driveway.  She sat for a moment in her vehicle and stared at her house.  Each time she pulled into her driveway, after every double or triple shift she worked, she felt a sense of pride and accomplishment for still being able to call this house her home.  God knows she’s fought hard to keep all the bills paid and the house maintained.

After she entered and removed her boots at the door, she padded along through the open concept layout toward the kitchen.  She turned on the recessed lighting above the small marble island in the kitchen.  The house still smelled of fresh paint and she continued to assess the results of her long and arduous transformation from the outdated green walls to the light and breezy white walls with leaden-blue contrasts throughout.

It had taken every moment of spare time and money that she had, but shopping at stores that resold donated building supplies allowed her to stretch every dime to the maximum.

After opening a bottle of red wine gifted to her from Christmas, she absent-mindedly fished around for her phone in her purse.

The text notifications that appeared from William startled her, making her stomach twist once again.

Thanks.  Glad you guys made it safely.

The next message was timestamped 20 minutes after William sent the first text.

It was great meeting you both. How are you doing?

Once Loren’s frazzled mind reassembled itself from reading William’s text, she managed to type out a response that she hoped didn’t sound as eager as she felt.

It was amazing to meet you all.  I’m doing well - just really glad to be home now.  How are you?

Loren cringed as she pressed send; texting one of the stars of the Maple Leafs was most definitely an unexpected turn of events.

Loren leaned against the island and took a healthy sip of wine.  She leaned her head back and slowly swallowed; the tannin giving the distinct dry sensation on her tongue from the rich Valpolicella Ripasso.

She could feel the warmth of the alcohol travel from her neck into her face; a very familiar feeling given the number of times she was flushed in William’s presence earlier that day.

It wasn’t long before her glass was empty and the text conversation, if one could call it that, had completely dissipated.

It was fun while it lasted, she thought as she locked the front door and ascended the stairs to her bedroom, accompanied by another full glass of wine.

Walking into the ensuite bathroom from her bedroom, she lit candles and began to run the water for a bath.  She propped up her phone on the closed toilet lid next to the tub and wandered back into her bedroom to undress.

Two more healthy pulls from her wine glass had her wishing she had just brought up the bottle, but she joked to herself that a hot bath, too much wine plus exhaustion could be a bad combination.

Walking back towards the bathtub, Loren stopped to view her naked reflection in the vanity mirror while gathering her hair into a messy bun.  A smile formed on her lips as she flexed her abdomen and saw the faint outline of her core muscle groups.  She twisted her waist and looked over her shoulder to see definition along her shoulders and back.  Turning back around, she gently cupped her breasts and silently thanked the boob gods that they were no less droopy than when she was in her early twenties.   After the end of a disastrous relationship years ago, she finally felt happy in her skin and continued to nourish her body to the best of her ability, every single day.

Loren stepped into the tub, eased herself into the almost too hot water and leaned back, flinching at the cold enamel surface when her skin pressed against it.  Sitting upright again, she bent her legs and rested her chin on her warm kneecaps, waiting for the still-running water to reach the perfect level.

Wiping her hands on a nearby towel, she grabbed her phone and selected a playlist that reflects her mood.

Definitely low key.  Maybe a little bit of slow R&B.  Something chill.  Like the Swede you met today.  No - don’t think of him.  Ugh….too late.  Fuck.  Loren scolded herself in her head.

Loren started to giggle at her own musings as she turned off the water.  The wine had settled into her system, and as the music softly streamed from the speakers on her phone, she took another long sip of wine and leaned back again, letting the water’s movement rock her gently as she released her muscles into total weightlessness.

She gently placed the glass on the wider ledge beside her head and closed her eyes.  It wasn’t long before the feeling of being completely encompassed in warmth started to stimulate a need between Loren’s thighs.  She softly smiled to herself as she allowed her fingertips to brush over her own taut nipples that were not fully covered by the water’s surface.  The warmth of her wet fingers against the exposed flesh that was chilled by the air, made her skin prickle with goosebumps despite the temperature of the water.

Loren squeezed her thighs together as the pressure began to build in her core.  Her hands leisurely traced an invisible path along her lower abdomen and she quickly indulged herself by running her middle finger between her folds.

As much as she tried to ban images of William’s perfect features in her mind, she gave up the fight easily and granted herself full permission to visualise his mouth pleasuring her.

“God dammit” she gasped as she inserted her middle finger from one hand into her pussy, trying to mimic the feeling of his tongue.  The middle finger of her opposite hand stroked her clit as she gently bit her bottom lip.

A chime sounded and as Loren’s eyes quickly opened, a text notification appeared. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw that the message was from William, a continuation from her last message.

I’m good thanks.  It was a bit of a crazy afternoon for you so I wanted to see how you’re feeling?

Loren smiled at William’s thoughtfulness and for his concern.

She took a picture of her wine glass, now just half full, followed by the lit candles on the vanity and sent them to William, with the caption

“Nice and relaxed now…”.

Feeling a little cheeky, she followed her message up with:

I’ll spare you the picture of my bathtub but it’s currently part of the solution too 😉

While envisioning your mouth on my…. Loren joked to herself, but the thought was interrupted by another text notification from William.

That sounds NICE.  What kind of red wine are you drinking?

Loren blanked; she knew the type but she hadn’t really looked at the label when all but downed the first glass of it as she stood in her kitchen earlier.

Some kind of Ripasso - but please don’t ask me the name of it…I yanked the cork out and poured as fast as I could when I got home…I didn’t bother to look at the label (haha) How is your evening?

Loren set her phone on the plush bat mat on the floor, with the screen down.  She covered her face with her hands to try and calm the rise of adrenaline in her body.

He’s only asking how you are - don’t get too ahead of yourself…he’s likely got a million girls on the go anyway, and you’re not going to be one of them Loren reminded herself.

However, as another text chimed in, her mind went spinning all over again.

Haha that’s usually how I do it too. Just buy whatever JT says is good and then I drink it. It’s alright, me and some of the boys are at Mitchy’s new restaurant just chilling.

Loren smiled as she pictured the gorgeous Swede amongst a table of his other handsome teammates enjoying a little bit of downtime during this late part of the season.

Loren and William continued their light-hearted text exchange.  Loren explained she had no idea Mitch had a restaurant; William suggested Loren come and check it out with her husband or boyfriend.

Well hmmm, Gary’s pretty much the main man in my life, but he’s more of a Swiss Chalet kind of guy

At the restaurant, William laughed aloud as he read Loren’s response, which caught the attention of Max, who was sitting in the plush club chair across the table from him.

“I have never seen someone on their phone as much as you - fuck Willy, you need to hire some help to deal with all of that….peel yourself away from that thing,” Max joked.  “How many are you chatting to right now anyway?” Max continued to tease.

“Nah, man - it’s not like that,” William smiled, pushing his fork around on the table.

“Not like what?  Hey uh - Willy, have some of this - it’s Chef Selection,” Mitch arrives at the table and slides a beautifully assembled sushi tower towards William and Max.

William wasted no time in snagging a couple of pieces from the elegant display of food.

“Mmm…so fucking good,” William said as he eyed another piece and lobbed it in his mouth.

Max begins to respond as he lifts a piece of sashimi off the plate.  He rolls his eyes once the flavour hits his tongue in obvious satisfaction.

‘Ah - I was just asking Willy how many ladies he’s got on the go…he needs an assistant just to manage all of his text messages,” Max quipped.

“I don’t think Willy even knows how many girls he’s in contact with - probably couldn’t even give an educated guess,” Mitch said as he and Max continued to rib their friend.

“Oh yeah, speaking of which - Angelina, that server from last time…she’s working the other section tonight but she saw you…she wondered if you’d stop by and see her before you leave,”  Mitch nudges Max with his elbow as he waits for William’s reaction.

“I hope you didn’t say that I would…I told you last time too…no interest in her,” William chuckled, hoping they would change the subject.

William’s phone chimed and he glanced at the screen; his smile widened when he saw another message from Loren.

I googled the restaurant and that menu 🤤  Can you indulge me a little and tell me how amazing the food is please (all i had for dinner was a lousy grilled-cheese sandwich lol)

William started to take a picture of the sophisticated platters of food that had just been brought out which was a mixture of the most tantalizing array of surf and turf options.

“You taking a pic of the food?  For who?” Max asked with a wry smile.  When William didn’t answer him right away, Max stealthily changed positions to peer over Willam’s extended arm and saw the name “Loren” in the list of names in William’s message app.

“You got Gary’s worker’s number? Jesus dude…that was quick.  Hey, has there ever been a girl that’s turned you down?” Max laughed but based on William’s eye roll, he knew he needed to start backing off the subject.

After a few minutes passed, William excused himself from the table.  Remarkably, there was an empty corner at the bar and William slid onto the stylish leather seat, resting his elbows on the expensive marble bar top.

William thought about just sending the food pictures through to Loren, but he quickly changed his mind and decided to FaceTime her instead.

The distinct chime indicating FaceTime triggered panic in Loren.  If she answers, and it’s actually him, she’s literally going to be naked while on a video-call with William Nylander.

Answering the call, and despite the lump in her throat and her stomach being in knots, she managed to fake looking relaxed and at ease.  She tried not to critique her overall appearance when her face appeared in the small window on the screen; her cheeks were flushed and damp with moisture from her still, rather hot, bath and her hair loosely piled up in a bun atop her head.

William had forgotten she was in the bath and her wet wisps of hair that clung to her beautifully contoured neck quickly jogged his memory.  She looked so incredibly pretty as she smiled back at him, so much so that he had to shift in his seat to accommodate his burgeoning hardness.

William apologised.  ”Ah - shit…sorry - I totally forgot you were in the bath….I can call back later if you want?”

“I’m ok if you are?  I’ll even try and keep it classy and not flash you,” Loren laughed as she shook her head in slight disbelief that those words just flew out of her mouth. “Jesus, sorry William - I shouldn’t have said that….”

“Ha - well, if you’re offering,” William said, his eyes gleaming with interest.

“Ah well, shit - I knew I should have brought the whole wine bottle up with me…it just might have happened had I polished it off,” Loren imitated disappointment, followed by a grin.  “Considering that I think I already reached my low point when I couldn’t remember my name after you introduced yourself this afternoon,” she smiled.

William loved Loren's ability to poke fun at herself.  He almost forgot he was sitting at a busy bar as he laughed aloud at Loren’s personal play-by-play of the event earlier that day. William even had the bartender and other patrons chuckled as they overheard his distinct giggle as he and Loren continued their conversation.

Although the restaurant was beginning to fill up with more customers, William was completely unfazed and unaware of anyone else’s presence at that moment; he was completely engrossed in the conversation with Loren.

As William talked about the incredible menu items that he was fortunate enough to sample that evening (at Loren’s request), his hunger eventually drew him back to the table to rejoin the group, with Loren still on his phone.

William disconnected his air pods and continued his conversation with Loren, despite the drone of the background hustle and bustle of an extremely popular establishment.  He wasn’t even concerned about the group knowing who he was talking to; he just knew his face already hurt from smiling and laughing with her.

As he spanned the table with his phone showing the smorgasbord of food, fit for a king (or friends of one the restaurant owners), Loren stared in amazement, and she could feel herself salivating while William asked her if she were ordering what would be her menu choices.  After Loren rhymed off every single one of his favourites, he found himself wishing she was there enjoying the evening with him.

It wasn’t long before another face on the screen appeared beside William’s.  Max leaned over William’s shoulder and gave Loren an exuberant greeting, making small talk with her as William grabbed some more food from the platters within proximity of his reach.  More of the team popped their heads into view to say hello, leaving Loren feeling like she could float away on a cloud.  For not only could she return to work and let Gary know that so many players asked about him and sent along their best wishes, William especially, had also made a huge impression on her.

When William resumed his one on one conversation, Loren suddenly realised that her once piping hot bath was barely above lukewarm.  Her skin was suddenly riddled with goosebumps, and she involuntarily began to shiver.

William suddenly stopped himself mid-sentence.  “Hey - uh, what’s happening…you ok?”

William paused for a moment and noticed she hadn’t really moved since they started their video call. “Oh, wait…holy shit, you’re still in the bathtub…have I kept you from getting out?” William asked, borderline embarrassed.

“No!  Well…yes, I’m still in here but I swear, I just noticed it myself…you didn’t keep me from getting out….”, Loren giggled, as she turned over her hand and looked at her fingertips.  “Jesus - I’m as wrinkled as a ninety-year-old nut sack.”

When Loren realized what she had uttered aloud, she clasped her hand over her mouth and looked wide-eyed at the screen, unsure if William had heard her.

He did.  And he was totally laughing at her.

“I promise you, I’m not normally this bad with words…and yes, I’m cutting myself off from the wine tonight,” Loren said with a smile despite feeling a little flustered.

“I say keep going - let’s see how much trouble your mouth can be,” William said with a wink.

Loren paused and shook her head slowly; a playful grin spanned her face as she mouthed the word “wow” while arching an eyebrow.

“Given I’m about to step out the tub, the odds of me showing you something I shouldn’t just got a lot higher, my friend,” Loren joked as she set her sights on a bath towel.  She turned off the camera and quickly stepped out of the tub, wrapping her cold body in the thick cotton bath sheet.

She heard William’s laugh through the speakers and decided to throw caution to the wind and turn the camera back on.  “Ok, I admit it - I was totally bluffing - there’s no way I was going to flash you.

With a playful grin, Loren continued. "Alright, I’m changing subjects for a sec….my curiosity has been killing me to hear how the other half lives…what does the rest of William Nylander’s Friday night look like?”

There was no way he was going to explain what he originally had planned.

“Nothing too interesting.  Hey, wait - I thought you were going to finish that bottle of wine still?” William hinted, not wanting to end the call.

“Yessir I am - but…. wait...are - hmm…are you…planning to stay on the phone while I finish it up?” Loren asked, her teeth still slightly chattering from being cold.  She walked with her phone towards her bed where she had already laid out warm, zip up hoodie and flannel pajama pants to change into.

“Is that okay?” William asked, his eyes softening as he smiled.

“Of course, but - it’s gonna be a bit…boring….at least in comparison to where you are and who you’re with tonight,” Loren said, smiling until a shiver ran through her body again.

“Nah, meeting and talking to you today has been anything but boring…and I see these guys all the time,” William said, with a hopeful tone.

William was at the point that if he gave into his basic urges, he’d be in his car or an Uber or whatever mode of transport would get him to her door the quickest.  He had to caution himself to remain laid back and not get too wrapped up in this girl, but he was rapidly losing that battle in his mind.

“If you’re sure, I’ll take you downstairs in a sec - I’m fucking freezing…just going to change real quick,” Loren said, semi-apologizing to William for her profanity.

“Hey uh, can you leave the camera on?  And no, I don’t mean for you to gimme a peek of anything…I’m just looking at the jersey you had on today…there’s something wrong with it,” William said wryly.

Loren set the phone on her nightstand, looking around to make sure William couldn’t see her or her reflection in the nearby mirror as she dropped her towel to get changed.

“OK, spill it - what is wrong with it?  Wait - it was a Christmas gift so maybe don’t tell me,” Loren chuckled as she slid into a tank top and panties.

William could hear her voice change as she pulled on her clothing.  He tried not to picture her naked, for too long anyway.

“I won’t say it then, it’s nothing major.  So Matty is your favourite player?” William asked.

Loren paused as she zipped up her white hoodie.  She picked up the phone and turned it to face the screen. “Hold that thought for a sec,” Loren said as she padded down the hallway leading to the stairs.

As she made her way downstairs toward the kitchen, Loren could see on the screen that William was suddenly talking to a woman that appeared next to him, dressed in a sleek black dress and looking like she belonged on a Paris runway.  Loren hated the slight pang of jealousy that suddenly made her stomach twist, and her first instinct was to flee the situation, excuse herself and hang up.  It’s not as though she would be seeing him again anyway.

But instead, Loren propped up her phone and busied herself by pouring another generous glass of wine - the last of the bottle.

William looked back toward the phone screen and saw Loren sipping wine and leaning against the counter, trying to mind her own business.  How William wished he was there with her or even at home with his dogs - basically anywhere except where he was - sitting next to a woman who was making a play for him, and whom he had no interest in.

Loren watched as William spoke to the woman, and she suddenly stood to leave while leaning in for a hug.

Coolly and casually as ever, William resumed his conversation with Loren.

“So you’re all set - is that the rest of the bottle?” William said, still with his unwavering smile.

Loren raised the bottle, angling it in the light and closed one eye to make sure she did, in fact, get every drop in her glass.  William watched her in total awe of her striking features with every expression and every movement she made.

“It’s all in there,” she giggled.

“Good - so you told me ‘hold that thought’…” William reminded Loren, hoping to continue the conversation for as long as possible.

“Right, Auston’s jersey.  The thing is…I actually wanted a Nylander jersey…your jersey - my parents tried to find one of yours at Christmas, but they were sold out, so I was given a Matthews’ jersey instead,” Loren explained.

William’s eyes grew wide in sheer delight.  He asked Loren to hold on for a minute and he scanned the nearby tables, apparently looking for someone.

Loren then heard William call out Auston’s name and seemingly waved him over.

“Hey man - what's up…what’s going on…”, Auston slid up next to William and saw Loren’s face on the screen smiling back at him.

“This is Loren - Loren, meet Auston,” William smiled as he introduced the two.  Auston exchanged pleasantries with Loren as her cheeks increasingly grew hot to the touch.

“So, Loren was wearing a Matthews jersey today, and I asked her if you were her favourite player,” William said tongue-in-cheek, and as Loren’s mouth began to drop and as Auston started to chuckle (somehow knowing William was going to chirp him about something), William continued.  “And Loren, you explained that…what - you had hoped to get a Nylander jersey…but they were…?” William trailed off.

What a little shit Loren snickered to herself.

“The Nylander jerseys were apparently sold out, so I was given yours as a gift instead,” Loren half-laughed as she jokingly glared at William for putting her in that position.

“She haaaad to settle for a Maaaatthews jersey because mine were soooold out”, William repeated as he laughed, elongating certain words for extra effect.

Auston looked at the screen, shaking his head and noticed Loren was doing the same.

“Has he been a total asshole all night or is this something new that he's trying to impress you with?” Auston laughed.

“I - hey….that's all between you two….I'm not getting involved,” Loren said as she laughed and put her hands up in faux surrender.  “But to answer anyway, no, he’s nowhere close to being an asshole…”, Loren said with a warm smile.

William jokingly backhanded Auston, laughing as he said “See?  She knows what she’s talking about AND…she’s clearly got great taste…you know with me…being her favourite player and all”, William said, laughing even louder at Auston’s unimpressed expression.

Auston glanced back at Loren and joked “You just had to tell him that…he’s never gonna shut-up about it now.” Auston turned back to William and patted his shoulder. “And just so you know - we’re heading out to the other place in a few minutes so…,” Auston hinted to William that he’d better wrap up the call sooner than later.  “It was really nice meeting you Loren - hope to see you….maybe you can bring your friend back down to a game sometime.  Heard about what happened - that was really too bad for him,” Auston said apologetically.

Loren’s pulse raced and pounded in her throat.  “Thank you so much Auston; it was so great to meet you too and for sure, I think something’s in the works so hopefully he’ll get a chance to see you guys play,” Loren grinned and waved to Auston as he left the frame.

There was a pause in the conversation as Loren took one last sip of her wine. Loren realised that her and William had spent a significant amount of time chatting on the phone and he did not seem concerned at all about whether his teammates were waiting for him to finish his call.

Nevertheless, Loren didn’t want to keep him from leaving for his next spot of the evening.

“This was - I don’t even know quite what to say but thank you so much again...it was really nice talking with you.  And… I know I’ve said it like a million times, but I really appreciate you taking Gary around the ice today - and well, everything else,” Loren said, her eyes sparkled as she showed her sincerity.  “But I’ll let you go - I know you guys are getting ready to leave,” she smiled.

Loren suddenly felt a jolt of disappointment knowing William was heading to some other joint in the city, likely bumping into a hundred more women who looked exactly like the model-type girl that she just witnessed him hugging.   Definitely a far cry from what she looked like currently, or so Loren felt.

“Yeah - it was really great talking with you too.  So….I guess my luck ran out then?” William grinned.

A smile crept across Loren’s face as she looked at William quizzically.

“Your luck ran out?  How’s that?” she asked with amusement.

“You finished the bottle and now I have to leave….so I guess the chance of you flashing me has passed…,” William teased.

“Ha - well….hmmmm….yeah, I think everything that was flashable has been tucked away for the night…but the evening’s still young; I’m sure half the female population in Toronto would gladly give you a peek of something….I don’t think luck has much to do with it either” Loren winked, hoping she didn’t sound petty or jealous.

William only responded with his signature laugh.

“Alright William, be safe…enjoy the rest of your night then,” Loren said with a wide grin.

“Yeah, thanks, Loren…. I guess have a good night to you too,” William smiled softly as he ended the call.

William slid his cellphone into his pants pocket and readied himself to leave with the rest of the group.  He faintly chuckled as his teammates chirped him about being on the phone for most of the evening and how he always seems to increase his already substantial roster of female admirers everywhere he goes.   He laughed along as he normally would, but William silently disagreed with their taunts about his supposed list of readily available women.

At that same moment, Loren stood in her dimly lit kitchen, processing the conversation that just ended with William.   Such was the way her mind had worked for years; for every optimistic or cheery thought, often-times, a negative or cynical one would supersede it.

‘He seemed so nice’ was ousted with ‘it was all an act’.

‘He was so easy to talk to’ quickly evaporated and in its place, ‘glad you enjoyed it because it’ll never happen again’.

‘It would be fun to hang out with him’ was at once replaced with ‘you’re way too beneath him’.

Loren let out a long audible breath; the excitement she had been feeling since William first messaged her that evening, had morphed into an aching pit in her stomach.  It was from within that pit that the negativity, pessimism and overall cynicism stemmed from - beliefs that Loren continually had to fight within herself to overcome.  The beliefs that were fed to her from the words of her ex-boyfriend that she was never good enough clearly were still alive inside of her.

Turning off the overhead light in the kitchen, the light-sensor night lights flickered on, guiding her back up to the bedroom.

To say it was a whirlwind of a day would be a massive understatement and whatever energy Loren had earlier rapidly drained.  She finished her bedtime routine, brushed her teeth and braided her hair and wearily traipsed back to her bed.

Every muscle and joint throbbed, releasing the built-up tension from the day as she sank into her pillow-top mattress.  Despite her momentary relapse into despondence, Loren relished this moment of the day.  She was safe and secure in her home; she had food in the fridge and money in her bank account to cover the bills.  She reminded herself that she did all of this on her own, and with turning off her bedside lamp, her contentment eased her into a deep slumber.

Meanwhile, William and various players from the team entered a lavish night spot along King Street West; the pulsating beat bounced off of every surface and could be heard from the street.  Strategically placed lights and lasers that hung from the iron beams and rafters cast a seductive glow through the expansive square footage of the club.

Throngs of fashion-forward and upscale club go-ers eyed the popular athletes as they meandered through the maze of reserved booths toward the security-monitored VIP section.

Within minutes, the scantily clad bottle girl designated to their table for the evening arrived with some additional servers for assistance, placing multiple bottles of expensive spirits on the table.

William ordered a cranberry-vodka and flashed the server a smile as she leaned over the table enticingly to select the bottle of Grey Goose.

She returned the smile and said “I’ll make this extra delicious, just like you Mr. Nylander,” followed by a wink.  In no time at all, she handed him a tumbler with his mixed drink.

William laughed and had a sip.  He looked out into the increasingly crowded club as the music pumped out heavy basslines and the strobe lights flashed to the beat.  Bodies bounced to the music as the DJ worked his magic, getting everyone up dancing and working them up into a fever pitch on the dance floor

William nodded to the beat and continued to scan the crowd.  There was no shortage of attractive women; in fact, everywhere he looked, there was a certifiable knock-out that he could easily approach, and likely leave the club with, if he chose to.

As William’s gaze randomly fell upon each perfectly put together woman, his mind travelled back to earlier in the evening when he was on the video call with Loren.

He found her absolutely striking as she sat in the bath talking with him; no make-up, her hair swept up on the top of her head, and really, no clothes to even speak of.  Loren had immediately caught William’s attention at the Easter Seals event and hadn’t been decked out in a low-cut mini dress by the latest designer, or wearing a pair of Louboutin stilettos, or carrying a Dior clutch.  She was ravishing just by simply wearing a Leaf’s jersey and leggings.

William scanned the other booths with their magnificent sushi boats and other gourmet fare and smiled as he recollected Loren’s wide-eyed reaction to the delectable platters of food at Mitch’s restaurant, after having a “lousy grilled cheese” presumably for her dinner.  And yet, she had immaculate taste, in William’s opinion at least, in the menu options she selected as thought she had she been sitting across the table from him.

Regardless of how gorgeous of a woman she was, it was Loren’s brand of wit mixed with shades of vulnerability that had William completely enchanted. In the middle of a crowded club, at that moment, he found himself unconsciously smiling as he thought of her.

Before he could change his mind, he reached into his pants pocket and scrolled through his message app until he found Loren’s name.

He opened the last received message and paused, unsure of what exactly he wanted to say.

William quickly typed:

Are you still awake?

Waiting for a reasonable period with no reply, William sent another message to Loren.

Do you have a day off coming up that we could maybe get together?

Knowing a response was unlikely, but satisfied that he reached back out to Loren, William rejoined the rest of the players that had congregated around the booth.  William smiled and laughed along with jokes, stories and observations of the club dwellers, but the night now felt stale and uneventful.  He chipped in on the club tab, ordered an Uber, and much to the dismay of his teammates (and several women who had been eyeing him all night), William exited the club and headed home.

[divinalu]

Teammates? Friends?!

Synopsis - Upon becoming Vice President of your university’s student council, you stride into your new position only to be greeted by a familiar face - your high school rival. After being pitted against each other for so long, constantly at each other’s throats, could this opportunity to work together grant new insight into the moody President?

Pairing: Scaramouche x fem!reader university/college modern SMAU Tags: modern au, college au, university au, smau, student council, president x vice president, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, crack, lots of cringe jokes, SLOW burn, like really slow Warnings: swearing, mild threats, scara has a bad relationship with his mother, drinking, mentions of drugs, timestamps don’t matter, written chapters are marked with ‘✧’, photos do not indicate/represent the reader's appearance, race/ethnicity, skin tone, body type, etc. they're only to indicate poses and sometimes clothing

Status: ongoing (currently on hiatus)

Please comment to be added to the taglist!!

A/N: this is my first SMAU and fic on Tumblr 😭 also im not really sure how student council works in uni cause ive never been involved so you’ll have to bare with me and just use your imaginations

Featuring:

Y/N’s Friends | Scara’s Friends

Chapters:

❥ 01 — ONLY VICE??!!

❥ 02 — Wait, I Just Realised

❥ 03 — When the zeroes line up?

✧ 04 — I say disco, you say party!

❥ 05 — (Not) Good Morning

❥ 06 — Unexpected Guest

❥ 07 — Debrief Time

❥ 08 — Buy me food

❥ 09 — Never Back Down

✧ 10 — I’m Managing

❥ 11 — Band(Aid)

❥ 11.5 — BandAid

❥ 12 — Lunch Date!

❥ 12.5 — Lunch Date! (Pt. 2)

❥ 13 — One Step Forward, Three Steps Back

✧ 14 — All Nighter

❥ 15 — Fake News!

❥ 16 — Lying Low

✧ 17 — New Spark...?

❥ 18 — Date Night!

✧ 19 — Date Crashed..?

❥ 20 — ...

Taglist [open]:

@featuredtofu @raewrz @ainnofinway @neigesprincess @feiherp @kazioli @yoichiislovie @beriiov @yuminako @unhinged-atrocities @ghost-mint @pgieonahh @qtange @saccharine-sucks @brain-r0tt @theblueblub @kaitfae @chalksdreams @14r26f @luciledreamz @scaramood @certified-shrimp @xiaoxette @the-frogs-go-moo @danhenglovebot @ell1e2010 @lyzisbitchingagain @kunimix @aether-darling @swivi @dazqa

[suhnshinehaos]

⚘  growing pains

series synopsis : people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves. pairing : svt 97 line x gn!reader genre/s : non-idol au, coming of age, angst, fluff, my attempts at humor

act three : the unexpected love

after years studying and working abroad, yn is finally back home to a new job and new faces. all they want now is to focus on nothing else but their career and one of their coworker’s friends, minghao, makes it all the more interesting. 

part thirteen : thank you dinner

previous  ➤  act three, part twelve (2/2) next  ➤  act three, part fourteen growing pains  ➤  masterlist

from reese, with love

this is a looooong one ! pls ignore the timestamp on jn's mh twt it's supposed to be later in the day heh anyways, ynhao are so dear to me like ??? the absolute warmth i get while writing them >>> i hope it translates well and you feel it too while reading :) thank you so much for all the love on the previous part and for reading this one ! as always, i would love to know your thoughts !! all replies/asks/rbs are appreciated ! hope you're doing well and taking care :))

also svt and 127 dropping music aaaaaah gosh fact check and seventeenth heaven i am ready for youuuuu!!

[lekopoofball]

Just in case anyone craves all the Tina demon stuff from Thursday but doesn’t want to sift through the entire 15~hour stream, I wrote down some timestamps.

7:30:24 First flight

8:10:30

8:24:28

8:34:50-8:36:20 deciding on a demonic voice

8:39:00-8:47~ Flying home

8:48:17 Nobody snitch please :)

9:16:38 They snitched :(

10:04:46

10:18:30-10:52:08 Weird things start happening to her and she discusses the situation with Empanada

10:55:18

10:56:55 Big jumpscare and 10 minutes of recovering from it

10:07:33 Fire starts again, but goes unnoticed until 11:09:35, then lore occurs intermittently for about 18 minutes.

After this point the admins are done messing with her, it’s just Tina being a bit, er, off.

11:41:15

11:49:50 Chat doesn’t trust her with Aelia (Why would I turn on her in less than an hour? That’s demonic. …I didn’t mean to say the word demonic…)

11:56:20

12:17:07 (Not lore, just saying she doesn’t know whether the lore is over because it was all unexpected. Good improvisation haha, way to yes and.)

12:24:00

12:32:40/12:35:30 Flying feels too good

12:38:17 Empanada tells her about going to the Nether

12:50:25

13:06:10 (Funny coincidence that there’s a Nether portal nearby now huh)

13:17:20

14:04:14 (Cryptic chess advice)

14:13:57 (Foolish starts watching at the wrong time)

Also, what is this thing?

[startographist]

☆ﾟ⁠ . * ･⁠ ｡ﾟDEAR SOULMATE 🪽

— summary ; in a world full of unexpected, kunikuzushi, an artist finds himself to paint the certain unknown girl in his vivid dreams. with the sudden twist of destiny, he met her, and with fate unexpected as it be, they find the truth that shook their lives forever...

— modern au & soulmate au! kunikuzushi x fem! reader

— warnings ; the following narrative events are FICTIONAL and made up, therefore they should be taken lightly. ooc, small capital letters only, timestamps doesn't matter that much here, irregular updates, slowburn

— taglist ; open!

☆ﾟ⁠ . * ･⁠ ｡ﾟNAVIGATION + CHAPTERS 🪽

the sillies (y/n's side) ; cool ppl + childe (kuni's side)

— PROLOGUE I: ONE DAY I'LL GIVE THIS PIECE TO YOU....

— PROLOGUE II: CRY AS THE STARS WATCH.

— EPISODE I: IT'S HAPPENING!!!

— TBA..

smau by startographist! plagiarizing, distributing and translating without the author's permission is a violation against creative rights.

[pretty-toru]

within his reach┆toji fushiguro

୧ genre: fluff

୧ wc: 1.1k

୧ synopsis: the handful of times toji has broken into your apartment.

Toji Fushiguro has many notable bad habits. Gambling in between jobs to pass the time, beating men in broad daylight, and spending his entire paycheck in one transaction, just to name a few. His most recent one that he picked up? Breaking into your apartment at the most unexpected of times and nearly scaring you to death as you're rooted in place with your hands clutching your chest to calm your racing heart.

"Toji?! How did you even get in here? It's the fourth floor??"

Behind his smirk lies a hidden amusement at your cute dumbstruck expression and he thinks it's more fun to keep you guessing. "Can't tell ya that. I might need to do it again." He says almost too casually and walks around your place too comfortably, but you don't question him further because if there's one thing you know about Toji is that he has a way of getting what he wants.

"Sure, make yourself at home why don't you," you say sarcastically, and Toji's notorious for mooching off you as he strides past your gawking stare for a cold beer in your fridge. "But next time, please use the front door."

As you have guessed his intentions, Toji keeps you company long enough for him to recuperate then he suddenly and completely disappears for many weeks, even months. You're often left feeling empty adjusting back to your boring routine when there's never been a courtesy goodbye or any information about where he's going. But you found that he always returned back to you when you were starting to believe that he wouldn't.

You think Toji could work on his unannounced visits, but it certainly wouldn't be yours and Toji's special custom if he doesn't meet you again in the most unconventional of ways in the same manner he used to enter your apartment. He caught you once when you're just getting out of the shower wrapped in your bath towel with an improvised curling wand for a weapon because you heard a strange noise but quickly realized it was none other than Toji.

"Toji, you need to stop sneaking in like this! I could've killed you!"

"With a metal rod, sweetheart? Really? That's cute you think you could hurt someone considering your size."

Another incident was when you were coming out from your stupor as the golden rays gently coaxed your eyes to flutter open, and you had zero recollection of going to bed with a presumably half-naked man beside you. What was supposed to be a peaceful morning jostled you awake and you covered yourself with your comforter out of reflex. The motion caused the intruder to shift around and when he turned to face you with a glimpse of those emerald hues, you were able to identify that it was Toji all along.

"When did you even get in?? I swear I'm gonna die from cardiac arrest someday because of you."

He merely responded with a hoarse and sleepy chuckle before mumbling, "Last night. I even gave you a heads up this time." Then returned to a more comfortable position to get his much-needed rest.

Despite the flustering situation, you reached for your phone on your nightstand and saw his text message with the timestamp of 3:47 a.m. What the hell was he even doing at three in the morning? Your gaze would flit between the screen and Toji snoring softly. For all you knew, he led a mysterious and dangerous life that you're better off not knowing the details to. And maybe you're content with being blissfully ignorant.

You eventually found out that Toji's been climbing in through your window that has a broken latch after the first few times. You never felt the need to rush and fix it because you enjoyed his presence when he was around, but it still befuddles you how he manages the height from the ground up. You have your suspicions that he has a non-typical profession that allows him to leap from one balcony to another, and the curiosity is always there but you just never bothered to ask.

Toji smells mostly like petrichor and metallic from the fresh wound on his torso when you meet him again. The clothes on his back and ends of his tendrils are slightly damp as he's slouched against your sofa in the surrounding darkness. And you'd never know he was there until morning if you hadn't gone to your kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water. You're stunned to say the least because it's Toji and he looks terribly hurt.

"Toji, I don't mean to cause for an alarm." You start, doing your utmost best to remain level-headed. "But you're covered in blood and it's staining my brand-new couch."

He cocks an eyebrow at you as though he wasn't already aware of how he sustained such an injury. "Is that observation for me or for you?"

"M-mostly for myself. I think you need to go to the hospital and get that looked at."

You're unsurprised when you feel a sense of urgency to help him yet he's unconcerned about the seriousness of the situation and gives you a shrug of his shoulder. "Jus' a lil scratch, doll. Nothin' to get worked up over."

You deflate with a sigh and retrieve your first-aid kit to patch him up since he refused proper medical attention, and you couldn't have someone bleed out in your living room. (How would you explain that to your landlord?!) As you're cleaning the dirt around the narrow laceration along his abdominal oblique, you knew that it was going to leave a scar. Like the other ones that you sometimes trace your fingers over under the moonlight, and Toji can feel your eyes on them. All scars came from something painful so you never asked Toji to explain something if he's not ready.

"Go ahead and ask me about them."

Your movement stills as your head tilts upward to meet his gaze because you always knew that he kept parts of himself hidden that he considers shameful. You'd never punish him for being honest and how he chooses to live because you get the sense you both come from different worlds. And so you offer him a sweet smile and a gentle touch to the scar marring the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe it can wait just a little longer until I finish this up."

The last time Toji breaks into your apartment is when you paid a visit to the locksmith and have a copy made of your key. It's almost comical how long he's been using your window as an entrance when he reappears back in your life again. So, you're hoping that the key will save you the embarrassment of having to explain to your downstairs neighbors why the man you're seeing likes climbing buildings and can't use the door like a normal person.