#y’all I’m telling you if you ever get a chance to see him live TAKE it you’ll have zero regrets

[emblazons]

him: “why do you keep listening to everything Hozier”

me who experienced this 3x a week ago: “BECAUSE”

[coco-loco-nut]

die first

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max’s wife is an international superstar, who’s anxieties tend to show up in her songs

Inspired by: die first by Nessa Barret

requests open! masterlist prequel

—————————

“What are you writing, Schatje?” Max asks, sliding onto the piano bench beside you.

“I wrote a song based on my vows,” you tell him, writing down the last couple chords, humming a rhythm to yourself.

Max, ever since I met you, I knew you were special. You’re my fire and my safety, you never try to break me, and you promise to always stay. I promise those same things to you. I don’t want to live without you, I never want to learn how to fall asleep without you, I want to be in love with you forever. You are my forever.

“Play it for me?” he asks when you finish, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You nod, gently pressing the keys, mentally noting the kinks to fix before recording tomorrow. “It’s beautiful, the fans are going to love it, I love it,” Max compliments and you grin at him.

“I’m excited to announce the album and tour, and I’m glad we follow F1 around Europe. I get to spend more of summer with you that way,” you lean on his shoulder. You dedicated the album to him, and your third record is set to be the best selling one yet.

You took the unconventional route and took his last name after marrying him this year, despite having two hit albums and international fame. You still publish under your maiden name, but the name change caused a lot of shock.

You became an international superstar with your first release and it’s only grown since. Despite your relationship with Max spanning most of your music career, the both of you are able to spend a relatively low profile life in Monaco. Everything you record in the studio down the street is sent to your Hollywood label and released from there.

The next few months see you doing press for the surprise drop that was your bestselling third album and hyping the tour. Tour rehearsals fell during training time for Max and the both of you were going nonstop.

“I have to go to bed, Schatje, love you,” Max yawns over Facetime, you wish him goodnight as you stretch for your last show in North America. Tomorrow you jet to Europe to pick up that leg of the tour.

By the time you reach London, your tour has officially lined up with F1, which means your personal box near the stage is full of drivers, who likely are being bombarded with autograph requests. You slip into your black, sparkly bodysuit and matching hells; hair, makeup, and nails perfectly done; and grab your matching microphone before heading to your mark under the stage. The roar of the crowd energized you as the intro video plays.

“Come on London, let’s have some fun,” you say into the mic before smoke fills the stage above you and the trap door opens, the platform beneath you rising you up. You launch into your opening act. Half an hour later, after prancing and dancing and singing around the stage you take a pause to introduce the next act. The crowd cheers loudly before you have a chance to speak. You look around, smiling at everyone even if you can’t see them.

“London, thank you, my name is Y/n Verstappen, that’s my show for tonight,” you tease, the crowd silences. “Nah, I’m kidding. I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that, not when you are one of the best crowds I’ve had on tour,” you tell them, giving them a second to cheer.

“Since you have been such a great host, I wanted to share something special about this next song, something not many people know, but not quite yet. Quick shoutout to the F1 drivers here tonight, including my handsome husband, y’all are cool. But not as cool as everyone else here,” you purposely leave them hanging a little, blowing a kiss in the direction of Max.

“Alright, so, this next song is not only the title of my new album, but I also took parts of my vows and wrote them into the song. I hope you like it,” you say and the crowd cheers as the first chords play behind you.

“Thank you, London! Goodnight!” After the concert, you rush backstage and into Max’s open arms.

“You were incredible, Liefje” Max kisses you. Charles jokingly gags behind you.

“Thank you, Maxie,” you whisper, hugging him tight. Your assistant hands you a towel to put around your neck and a bottle of water which you happily take.

“You had a great show,” the other drivers tell you, all complimenting the show and thanking you for the tickets. You thank them for attending and excuse yourself so you could change. Max reminds them of the post-show dinner and club plans and carries you to your dressing room. You collapse on the couch, as Max chuckles at your dramatics.

“I swear the best part of a show is laying down after,” you groan and Max gently takes off your heels causing you to moan in relief.

“Y/n! People are going to think we are doing things in here,” Max laughs, you wave him off, changing into comfy but club appropriate clothes. Max helps you take off your stage makeup, and redoes your hair as you put a little bit of normal makeup on.

“Ready, Maxie?” you ask, grabbing your purse. It is nice knowing that assistants will take everything back to the hotel for you.

“I promise I will always come back home to you, I know my driving style is agressive, but I won’t make you learn how to fall asleep without me,” Max says, his hands holding your face gently.

“I know, but I will always be scared when you are on the track. You can’t promise nothing will happen, but I know you will always try,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You stay in his embrace for a minute until rejoining half of the paddock. I can be in love forever, if I die first…

[empress-simps]

Uncle Padfoot’s Motorcycle

Pairing: Dad! Remus x Mom! Reader CW: Language and Remus who’s gonna face the wrath of his wife. Summary: Uncle Sirius takes baby Moony out for a ride on his motorcycle and you aren't happy about it.

Note: I’ve literally enjoyed writing this, and dad! Marauders literally make me hdiskskssjska ALSO THANK YOU FOR 500 FOLLOWERS YOU GUYS🫨���� I LOVE Y’ALL

"Sirius Orion Black and Remus John Lupin!"

Sirius could feel his soul practically leave his body as he saw you, in your ever angry form, march to where he is handing your year old daughter to Remus' awaiting arms.

This is it, this is how Sirius thinks he’s going to leave the face of the Earth.

"Erm, I have to go! See you next week yeah?" Sirius clambers onto his motorcycle, praying to any deity that he would fly faster than you hexing him with your wandless magic.

"Bye pah foo!" Lyra grins, her four teeth in clear display as Sirius looked back and waved, "See you soon, baby moony! Have to go before mummy hexes me to no end!"

Remus watched his friend blankly, deep down wishing he too was in the back of the motorcycle with Lyra so he could escape the imminent wrath his wife that was to rain down on him.

“Remus. John. Lupin.”

Each word you uttered was like a nail on his coffin. He tried his best not to wince as he heard how utterly cold and sharp you spat his name out. So, gathering up his remaining courage, he faced you with a smile- and he definitely didn’t place your squealing baby girl in front of him, making her somewhat his shield. He hoped the cuteness of Lyra would soften the blow quite a bit.

“Hi, darling! You’re back early- “

“Tell me I did just not see our one-year-old baby land in front of our house riding Sirius’ flying motorcycle or so merlin help me I will strangle you.” You warned, taking Lyra from his hands, who happily snuggled in your arms.

Well, shit.

There goes his only chance of living.

He offered a wry smile, ignoring how sweaty his hands had become. “Alrighty, I won’t tell you- “

“Remus! You seriously thought it was a good idea to let our child ride a flying motorcycle? She just turned a year-old last week for Merlin’s sake!” You scolded, poor Remus. Call him a seer because he can already see himself sleeping on the couch for the entire week, a few days if he’s lucky.

“Darling, Sirius and I made sure it was completely safe.” He tried to explain, “Lyra doesn’t even have a helmet! What were you guys thinking?!” You hugged your baby closer to your chest.

“Well, Padfoot said it’s unnecessary since they’re technically flying.” You scoffed in disbelief as you comforted Lyra who started to fuss. “Remind me to make Sirius fall next time I set his eyes on him on that darn vehicle of his.”

Remus could only let out a nervous chuckle. "Erm, I will."

“Why was Padfoot even here the first place?” You raised an eyebrow, going back inside the house to place Lyra in her playpen as Remus followed you like a servant who’s trying to regain your favor. “He also took Harry out for a ride. After that, he went here and told me Lyra should also experience it.”

You turned around and faced him, a hand on your hips. “I’m guessing Lily isn’t aware- because there is no way in her right mind that she would let her two-year-old son ride a flying motorcycle.”

His silence was the only thing you needed to hear from him.

“Where even were you when he took Lyra out for a ride?”

He blinks stupidly, “Outside, watching them.”

“You better choose your next words carefully Lupin.”

“I was supposed to ride with them, darling! But Sirius already took off when I was about to get onto the motorcycle!” He explains, hoping it’ll be enough to save him as he recalled the events from earlier.

“Pah foo!” Lyra grinned as she clapped her hands excitedly, her sandy brown hair that was tied in pigtails was swaying with every move she made. Sirius returned her excitement, bypassing Remus who answered the door and made a beeline to the squealing baby.

“There’s my baby Moony!” He lifts Lyra up from her playpen and peppers her face with kisses while Remus smiled, rolling his eyes playfully. “I’m starting to think you’re just visiting so you can hang out with my daughter, Padfoot.”

Sirius turned to look at him, smiling playfully as Lyra tugged on his curls. “I’m afraid so, Moony.” He then turned his attention to the child. “Now, who wants to go on an adventure with uncle Padfoot?”

Sirius’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he held Lyra aloft, her giggles filling the room. “We’ll soar over the treetops, chase the clouds, and maybe even race a few owls, eh?” He bounced her gently, eliciting more delighted squeals.

Remus watched them, a fond smile on his face, thinking that his best mate wouldn’t seriously do it. “Just make sure you keep her within sight, Padfoot. No loops or dives,” he added with a mock sternness that fooled neither Sirius nor Lyra.

Sirius mock saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain Moony!” He turned to Lyra, whispering conspiratorially, “Your dad’s just worried we’ll have too much fun without him.”

Remus didn’t even know how it happened, he just suddenly became aware of the situation when Sirius and Lyra were off, the flying motorcycle roaring to life as they took to the skies, leaving a trail of laughter, the faint smell of engine oil in their wake, and a faint ‘I fly, dada!’ from Lyra.

You sighed, effectively pulling him out of his thoughts. “At least Lyra’s safe, I know Sirius wouldn’t endanger his god daughter.”

You watched as Remus’s eyes softened; the worry lines smoothed out from his forehead. “Yes, Lyra is safe, and Sirius might be reckless, but he’s also fiercely protective,” he agreed, his voice carrying a note of gratitude. You hummed in agreement.

Remus tested the waters, “So… I won’t be sleeping in the couch, right?”

You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, the tension from earlier dissipating like morning fog in the sunlight. “No, Remmy, you won’t be sleeping on the couch,” you said, your voice laced with a hint of amusement. “But let’s agree that any future flights require both parents’ approval, alright?”

Remus let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Agreed, and I promise, no more surprises,” he said earnestly, reaching out to take your hand.

Just then, Lyra’s babbling caught your attention, and you both turned to see her playing with a small, plush fox, looking eerily similar to your animagus form that Sirius must have sneaked into her playpen.

“Maybe we can’t protect her from everything, but we can make sure she knows she’s loved and safe,” you mused aloud, watching Lyra.

Remus nodded, his eyes reflecting the same sentiment. “That’s all we can do,” he agreed. “And maybe teach her a few tricks so she can outfly Sirius one day,” he added with a wink.

You glared at him playfully, then laughed, imagining a future where Lyra, with her inherited Marauder’s cunning, would indeed give Sirius a run for his money. “Now that’s a plan I can get behind,” you said with a smile.

As the night drew on, the house filled with the soft sounds of a family at peace. The day’s adventures were recounted with laughter and gentle teasing, and plans for a grounded tomorrow were made. And in that moment, all was well in the world of magic and mischief.

[nervoussagittarius]

DATING CHRIS STURNIOLO HEADCANNONS

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: suggestive and fluffy

☼ chris is always filling you in on new ideas he has. whether its for fresh love or it’s for anything he does with his brother. he’s scared to admit it but your easily his muse and he loves being able to tell you how you inspired a project or video

☼ chris’s love language is physical touch. he always has to be touching you in some way shape or from. although he loves being near you, he understands if you need to have your personal space for a little bit, so he always asks if he can touch you after these times. but it’s hard to get him to stop after he starts

☼ chris loves having physical touch given to him as well. he will never turn down any form of touch. like stated above, he understands when you need your space but that doesn’t stop him from craving your affection in these moments

☼chris likes to stay on top of everything going on in your life. he wants the vlogs and texts about what you’re up to. he doesn’t do it in a controlling way. he’s genuinely just curious and loves supporting and congratulating the little things. his responses usually look like “i’m so happy your food turned out good baby. thanks for vlogging the process for me”

☼ chris loves making you laugh. he’s such an unserious man. any chance he has to see your smile is what he lives for. nothing will stop him from cracking a joke even in the most inappropriate times

★ chris loves pda. he wants to kiss you and hug you when he’s out and about. he’s not afraid to slap your ass or grab your neck a little out in public so people know you’re his

☼ chris wants to go everywhere with you. doesn’t matter. it could be the littlest errand but he’s passenger princessing his way there

☼ chris might not have his license, but if you do, he refuses to ask you for rides. unless y’all have plans to go somewhere or he goes with you when you have to go out, he’s not asking you to drive him anywhere. he doesn’t ever want to be a burden because he knows sometimes you really just don’t want to drive. so he’ll ask matt even if you’re right next to him and it annoys you because you’re always willing to take him out.

☼ chris is a huge follower of the sidewalk rule. he loves going on walks with you when the weathers nice but he blocks you from the road at all times. doesn’t matter if there’s something you want to see or if you’re trying to cross the street, he’s holding you hand and pushing you away from being anywhere near the road.

☼ chris isn’t big on cheesy dates. he doesn’t really want to go sit at a restaurant or do any of the basic stuff seen in romcoms. he wants to go have adventures and have have spontaneous fun. he’s never one to plan dates he likes to turn random day to day activities into big events

☼ chris loves being a little spoon and he loves being held. he often just crawls into you when your sitting or laying down. he’ll take your arms and wrap them around him so you have no choice but to hold him. bonus points if you play with his hair or rub his back

★ chris hates sleeping alone. he doesn’t care where you are, if he wants to sleep he’s finding you so you can lay with him. especially after sex he just wants to be next to you so he knows you’re okay

☼ chris makes sure he has your favorite drinks stocked for when you come over. he knows how sad he feels when he runs out of pepsi so he doesn’t want you to have to experience that

☼ chris gets hangry really easily. once he’s hungry he needs to eat immediately or he can’t control his words or actions. he’s known to do stuff he doesn’t mean when he’s hungry so you know not to take it to heart

★ chris will always apologize first. it might take him a few minutes to get his head out of his ass, but it doesn’t matter the situation or the argument or which one of you was in the right or wrong, he’s saying sorry. the last thing he wants is to prolong something that can be easily fixed with an apology. he’s a firm believer of never going to bed angry and he loves make up sex to really prove he feels bad

☼ chris is never letting you listen to your music, but he will incorporate your songs into his playlists. he loves being on aux and he thinks he’s the king of it. always has some good tunes playing

an: i don’t know what happened here but the words just kept coming ig

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 29

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Character List

TBH! At this point, this is a joint collab with @paigereeder 😭. GOAT!

Thursday, September 2nd 2021 

Airielle’s peaceful slumber was interrupted by her phone ringing. Groaning, she snatched her phone off the floor next to her and squinted at the screen to see who was calling her. “Oh my god.” She muttered before accepting the call. 

“Hello?” 

“Why in the fuck didn’t you tell me Christopher popped the fuck back up. I knew I should’ve killed that motherfucker when I had the chance.” Her older brother Isaiah seethed over the phone and Airielle sighed closing her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Airielle!” He shouted into the phone when she didn’t respond. 

“Because I had it under control.” Airielle looked behind her as Josh started to shift in his sleep, sighing she threw the covers off of her and walked into the living room to finish her conversation. 

“Uh-huh, sure you do. He broke into your spot -” 

“And I moved, problem solved.” She shrugged, eyes glancing around the living room just taking in how much he had actually gotten rid of. “Shouldn’t you be working?” 

Isaiah snorted. “I took the day off.” 

“Hmm,” Airielle hummed. “And that’s why you’ll never be Dad’s favorite” 

“Eat my - “ Airielle hung up before her brother could finish his statement. Rolling her eyes she threw her phone on the island. She looked up when she heard Josh shuffling into the living room. 

“Everything Aight?” Josh mumbled as he walked closer to Airielle and kissed her cheek. 

“Yeah, my brother being a pain in my ass.” She replied, rolling her eyes when he chuckled. “What you got going on today?” 

“Nothing. I gotta do some laundry and gotta pack. Got Smackdown and the House show this weekend.” 

“You wanna go get some breakfast first?” She asked, tapping the screen on her phone to see what time it was. “I’m kinda craving waffles.” 

“You already know the answer to that.” Airielle rolled her eyes with a smile as she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his chest. 

“Can you believe it’s about to be a year since we met?”  It's crazy to think about all the ups and downs they went through in a year! If she could go back and change anything it would definitely be breaking up with him after he asked her to move in with him. That would have saved them months of heartbreak. 

“You wanna hear somethin’ wild?” He waited until she lifted her head from his chest to continue. “That wasn’t the first time we actually met.” 

Airielle furrowed her eyebrows together and tilted her head a little. 

“Huh?” 

“We actually met back in 2019. Me and twin had a meeting with Hunter, down at the PC and I saw you there. I mean I was looking, respectfully, but I was still looking.” He laughed when Airielle rolled her eyes again.  “Hunter told us he was taking us off TV after Jon’s latest arrest but he still had - 

“Y’all cut a promo for us.” She whispered as the memory of their first meeting came rushing back. “I remember y’all looking so pissed but still came and cut like one the best promos I ever heard.” 

“Mmhmm.” Josh hummed while nodding his head. “I remember trying to come talk to you, but you weren’t even trying to give ya boy the time of day. I mean I understand why now but shit, back then I thought you were like this stuck up bi-” He stopped himself when she narrowed her eyes at him. He cleared his throat. “You know what I mean.” 

“I mean I was a bitch to you when I came to the main roster.”  Josh nodded his head in agreement and Airielle sucked her teeth, pulling away from him. 

“What? you said it, not me.”  Just as she went to smartass him, his stomach released the loudest grumble she had ever heard. They both stared at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter. “You the one who brought up waffles, I mean you already know how I get down.” Airielle sucked her teeth and pushed him away from her before walking back towards his room so she could grab her clothes to shower. 

“I feel like they just need to go ahead and sponsor your greedy ass Uce.” She chuckled, her back to him as she shuffled through her bag looking for something to wear to breakfast. She stood up straight and gasped as she turned and bumped into Josh. 

“Whatchu’ just call me?”  Airielle bit her lip to stop herself from smiling at the look he was giving her. “Airielle, stop playing with me.” 

“You wanna go get waffles or not?”  Josh tilted his head as he stared at her. He was really contemplating on not going to the Waffle House with her because who the fuck did she think he was. Uce, had she lost her damn mind? He wasn’t her damn Uce. He went to tell her that they weren't going to breakfast but his stomach growled again making her smile. “That’s what I thought.” 

AirielleJones

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AirielleJones: Me and UCE out to eat! ❤️🤭

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↪ AirielleJones: @ uceyjucey; love you too UCE 😘

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“You gon glare at me throughout breakfast or what?”  Airielle asked him as the waitress walked away to put in their orders. “Why can’t I call you Uce?” She pouted. 

“Cause I don’t fuck my family Airielle.” 

“Boy –” 

“Oh my god. Look at you! You’ve gotten so big.” A new voice interrupted their conversation. Both Airielle and Josh both turned towards the new voice. Josh narrowed his eyes as he looked at the woman. She was older than both of them, with dark brown skin; for some reason, her facial features reminded him of Airielle. Josh turned to look at Airielle to ask if she knew who the hell this lady was but he stopped short once he saw the look on Airie’s face. He had only seen that look one time before. 

A couple weeks before she broke up with him she had this same look when he had tried to initiate sex but she wasn’t in the mood for it. That’s the same day he found out Christopher used to force her to have sex with him. He remembers her telling him that her old therapist called it dissociating. Josh immediately stood up and stepped in front of this lady, blocking Airielle, who was still sitting in the booth, from her view. 

“You good?” Josh asked the woman, straightening his shoulders so he was standing at full height. 

“Are you her bodyguard or something?” Another voice piped up from behind the older women and Josh definitely knew that they had to be related to Airielle in some sort of fashion because this girl and Airielle could pass off as twins. 

“Yup. Now answer my question, Y’all good?”  

“You must be Joshua.” The older woman said. Holding her hand out to him. “I’m Abigail and this is my daughter Janelle.” 

“Cool, y’all can leave now.” He said eyeing her hand with disgust. Whoever this woman was made Airielle uncomfortable and he wanted her away from them ASAP. Abigail’s hand hung in the air awkwardly for a moment before she withdrew it and cleared her throat, forcing a smile on her face. 

“Airielle please tell this man that I am your mother and I just want to talk to you.” Josh’s eyebrows shot up at the news. “Please solèy –” 

“Don’t call me that,” Airielle spoke up. “You have no right to call me that.” Airielle stood up from the booth and grabbed Josh’s hand. “I want to leave.” Josh nodded his head immediately. Breakfast forgotten, he ushered Airielle back to his car. 

“You okay?” Josh asked as he pulled out of The Waffle House parking lot. 

“No,” Airielle said. “Pull over.” As soon as the car came to a stop, Airielle threw open the passenger door and threw up nothing but stomach acid. “Fuck!” she cried out. 

Josh handed her a bottle of water and she thanked him, swishing it around in her mouth before spitting it out.  “That was–” 

“If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t gotta talk about it.” 

“I know.” Airielle smiled and grabbed his hand, stroking the back of it with her thumb. “But I wanna be more open and honest with you.” Josh bit his lip and nodded. “That was my birth mom and her daughter I guess.” 

“Y’all not close. I take it.” 

“Nah,” Airielle shook her head. “She left when – well right after she gave birth to me. She never wanted me, never wanted a daughter, but I see a lot has changed in the past thirty years. I remember growing up, she would always send my brother’s gifts and cards on their birthdays but never mine. I didn’t really care because I didn’t remember her anyway. But um- one day I was just curious as to why she seemed to ignore my existence so I got her address off of one of the packages she sent my brothers and wrote her a letter.” 

Airielle quickly wiped away her tears. She hated crying over this woman. Josh squeezed Airielle’s hand gently. “She wrote me back. Which kinda shocked me but I was happy that she did. I was thinking she was just gonna tell me that she was just feelin' guilty about leaving me but, she said the complete opposite. She wrote me 4 pages, front and back, telling about how many times she unsuccessfully tried to abort me. How she tried to give me up for adoption without my father knowing. How she had a plan to tell my dad that I had died during childbirth.” 

Josh’s jaw was damn near on the floor as he listened to Airielle. No wonder she’s so emotionally challenged  He thought. 

“She blamed me for the fact that she couldn’t see her boys grow up, she blamed me because my dad chose to raise me instead of be with her. The final thing she wrote to me was, I wish you would have died. Do not contact me again. So I didn’t, I ripped the letter up and burned it. Never told my dad or my brothers about it and obviously neither did she.” 

“What the fuck.” Josh whispered, his hand tightened into a fist on his thigh. Abigail or whatever her name is better than her lucky stars that Josh didn’t put his hands on women. 

“Yeah I mean, I just wanted my mom, but she didn’t want me..” Airielle shrugged as she tried to stop the tears but it was too much. She had pushed Abigail and her hurtful words into the back of her mind in the folder with Chris and her unborn baby. Seeing her today just opened up a wound that Airielle thought had semi-healed. 

Josh pushed his seat back and pulled her over the center console so she could sit in his lap. He held her tightly as she cried into his shoulder. Josh gently stroked her back, his voice low and soothing. “It’s alright. I’m right here, okay? We gon’ get through this.”

As her crying eased, Josh kept her close, feeling her heart slow against his. He didn’t let go, knowing she needed this more than anything. He wasn’t just comforting her; he was vowing to stand up for her in every way he could.

Whew.. Miss Abigail is a trip!

What do y'all think about this chapter??

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Abigail Noelle Roy

Janelle Noelle Roy

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[winchesterwild78]

The Ranch pt 6

Master List

Characters: Jensen-cowboy, single dad, x Reader-city girl moved to country to get away from it all

Warnings/Theme: Mention of death, loss of pregnancy, physical violence

A/N: A short little story featuring our favorite green eyed cowboy, not an actor in this, lives on a ranch in Texas, is a widower with 3 kids. Reader is a city girl who moves to the country to get away from her ex and start a new life. She takes a job on the ranch and things develop between her and the cowboy. Internal dialogue in italics.

So much love and thanks to @cheynovak for the idea. ♥️ All work is my own. No disrespect to anyone, this is a work of fiction. Real names are used, but again this is a work of fiction. Do not take my work

*Couldn’t leave y’all hanging for too long. This one will reveal what she did.*

Minors DNI 18+

The next you were awake early. You had been crying off and on all night long. The night nurse came in and sat with you for a while and you two talked. She offered you advice and you had to make a decision. “Honey, I know that man loves you. Nothing you’ve done could change that. You need to trust your love and his love for you, and be honest with him. At least give him a chance to make a decision.” 

You nodded, “I know, I’m just so scared. I can’t expect him to love me and be okay with it, when I can’t even forgive myself.” “Oh honey, you have to forgive yourself.” She kept you company even when her shift was over. 

It was about 8am when there was a soft knock at your door. You told them to come in and Jensen walked in. His eyes were shining and he was wearing the biggest smile on his face. The nurse touched your arm, “You’ll be okay.” You nodded and she left.

Jensen came in, crossed the room and pressed his lips to yours. His kiss always made you feel safe and loved. Tears fell from your eyes, “Jens, I need to talk to you.” Fear filled Jensen’s eyes. “What’s wrong baby?” 

You motioned for him to sit down, he took the seat near your bed. Taking your hand in his, “Baby, please talk to me. You’re scaring me.” “Jensen, I love you so much. I love your kids like they are my own. But I don’t know if this is going to work. I’ve done horrible things that I’ve kept from you. 

Jensen swallowed hard, “Baby, whatever it is we can get through it.” You looked in Jensen’s eyes and sobbed. “Please, Y/N, talk to me.” 

You took a deep breath and took his hand, holding it tight. “About 3 years ago Alex and I were on a trip. He didn’t want to stop at a hotel on the way home, so we would switch off driving. I would sleep, while he would drive, and then we would switch. It was about 8 o’clock in the morning and I was driving. I wanted to stop but he insisted I keep driving.” You let out a sob as you continued to remember what happened. 

Jensen stood and wrapped his arms around you, “It’s okay baby. Take your time. It’s going to be okay.” You held him tight, taking in his smell. You loved the way he smelled. Taking a deep breath, you let it out and started talking again. “I was so tired. I begged him to let me stop and he take over driving. He said he was tired and I was fine. I kept driving, trying to get us home. I accidentally dozed off and hit a curb.” 

Jensen held your hand tighter. You put your head down. “Jensen, I can’t. You’ll hate me. I can’t tell you.” Jensen stood, cupped your face in his hands, “Y/N, look at me, Nothing, I mean NOTHING could ever make me stop loving you, or hate you. I love you, you’re it for me. I want to marry you, have children with you, raise all of our children together. Please, talk to me.” 

You nodded and tears slipped out, Jensen wiped them away. “When I woke up I was in the hospital. When I hit the curb I blacked out. There were police in my room and they were questioning me. I had to submit to a drug test, and they checked to see if I had alcohol in my system. I didn’t understand why they would ask me for a simple accident. 

Then the chief came in, read me my rights and placed me under arrest. I was crying and nobody told me what was going on. They finally told me I was under arrest for vehicular manslaughter. When I hit the curb I hit a little girl. She was learning how to ride her bike. Her name was Rachel, she had blue eyes and blond hair, she was 4 years old. I killed her, Jensen. I hit her with my car and killed her.” You broke down, sobbing. Gasping for air as the tears fell. 

Jensen threw his arms around you, “Shh, it’s okay. It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault. It was just a terrible accident.” Tears slipped from Jensen’s eyes too. He hated seeing you like this. He knew the accident wasn’t your fault. You calmed down enough to tell him what happened after the accident, “The charges were dropped, because it was ruled an accident. I went to therapy to try to deal with the guilt. I just couldn’t bring myself to forgive what I had done. About a year after the accident I ended up pregnant with Alex’s baby. I was happy but felt so guilty. I was about 4 ½ months along and I lost the baby. Alex told me it was my fault, it was God’s way of punishing me for killing Rachel. Losing my baby just broke me all over again. So, I’m damaged. I don’t blame you if you don’t want me around your children anymore, and if you don’t want to be with me. I don’t know if I can give you children. I’m so sorry Jensen. I should have told you.”

Jensen looked in your eyes and pulled you close to him. “Baby, listen to me, I trust you with my children’s lives, I still want to be with you, I want to marry you, and if we can’t have children together, it’s fine. We have three amazing kids at home already. Why would you think I wouldn’t want you?” 

“Alex. Anytime I told him I was going to leave him he held the accident over my head. He knew I couldn’t forgive myself and he used it against me. He told me you wouldn’t forgive me and you wouldn’t love me anymore. I’m so sorry, Jensen. I told him I’d go back with him. I wanted to protect you and the kids. I couldn’t face you.” 

“Shh, it’s okay baby. That bastard isn’t going to get you or near you ever again. Come on baby, let’s get you ready to go home. To our home with our family.” You smiled and nodded. Jensen pulled you in and placed a soft kiss on your lips, your hands went behind his neck and deepened the kiss. When he pulled away he looked at you, “I love you baby, so much.” 

You noticed it was close to 1pm, “Jensen, Alex said he’d be back at 1 to get me. What am I going to do?” “You get ready to go home, I’ll handle him.” He kissed your head, helped you out of bed and to the shower. You got in and showered so you could get ready to go home. Jensen walked to the nurses station, “Hey, good afternoon. My girlfriend is about to go home, and her ex has been bothering her. Is there any way we can prevent him from getting in here?” The nurse looked at Jensen and smiled, “Of course we can. I’ll get security here to talk to you.” ‘Thank you, ma’am.” 

Jensen stood at the desk waiting. The head security guard came and the two of them talked. He assured Jensen, Alex would be stopped at the door and prevented entry. Jensen thanked him and returned to your room. 

You had just finished getting dressed when Jensen walked in. “Everything is set, sweetheart. Security is going to stop Alex. Now, let’s go home.” The two of you gathered your stuff and discharge papers and headed out. You waited at the front entrance for Jensen to bring the truck around. As you stood waiting, you heard someone call your name. 

You turned and saw Alex walking up. “Hey baby, ready to go home?” He asked. “Alex, I’m not going with you. I told Jensen everything and he and I are going home. So, please leave.” Alex grabbed your arm and started to pull you towards his car, “I told you, you’re mine! I own you!” You jerked your arm away “Get off of me!” You screamed. Alex slapped you across your face. Before you could process what was happening Jensen had pounced on Alex. He was punching him. You were trying to pull Jensen off. “Jens, please stop! He’s not worth it.” Security came running out and pulled Jensen off. They detained both Alex and Jensen. You sat down crying. 

The police showed up and took statements, Alex was charged with assault and attempted kidnapping and taken to jail. Jensen wasn’t charged because he was defending you. He walked over to you, put his arm around you and kissed your forehead, “Come on baby, let’s go home. The kids are waiting for you.” 

You nodded and climbed in the truck. There was a pregnant silence that fell between the two of you. Your mind started racing. Then Jensen broke the silence, “Y/N, you know you losing your baby wasn’t punishment, right?” Your eyes pricked with tears, “I’m not sure about that. Even after I lost the baby I couldn’t get pregnant again. I’m sure I’m not supposed to have any babies of my own because I took someone else’s away.” Jensen’s heart broke. “Oh baby, it doesn’t work like that. I promise it doesn’t. I’m okay with trying if you want to. I don’t care if we’re not married.” 

You looked at Jensen wide eyed, “You’d really want to have a baby with me. Even after all of this?” Jensen pulled the truck over and put it in park. He climbed out, walked to your door and opened it. Reaching in he unbuckled your seatbelt and pulled you out of the truck. Taking your face in his hands he locked eyes with you. “I love you, more than anything. I want to marry you and have children with you. Damnit I was going to wait.”  He reached behind you and pulled out a small velvet box. Your breath hitched. 

Jensen got on one knee, took your hands in his and looked at you. “Y/N, you came into my life unexpectedly and at a time the kids and I really needed you. You had no idea how broken we were. The day you had pictures made for my kids I knew right then I was completely and irrevocably in love with you. You are my home. I love you today, tomorrow and forever. I’d be honored if you’d do me the absolute honor of becoming my wife. Will you marry me?” 

Tears streamed down your face and you pulled him up and kissed him. His lips still on yours he chuckled, “so is that a yes?” You laughed, “Yes! Yes I’ll marry you!” He slid the diamond on your finger and pulled you back into his arms. 

The two of you got back in the truck and headed home. Once inside the kids came running up to you and hugged you. They helped you over to the couch. You smiled at Jensen, who looked at his children, “Hey guys, Y/N and I need to tell you something.” 

Part 7….coming soon. 

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[daichislover]

same time next week? (Law college au)

summary: feeling more anxious than ever, you find yourself seeking help from Luffy’s med student friend, someone you've never had the chance to meet before

warnings: fluff, swear words, slight mention of prescriptions, mentions of smoking weed/vaping/CBD, slight mention of drinking (be responsible y’all!), law keeps his place TIDYYY you can’t tell me otherwise, implied plug!law lol

word count: 1337

MDNI

You don’t want to do this.

You stand at this random person’s door, double-checking your phone to ensure you’re at the right apartment number that Luffy gave you. Nervousness tightens your chest. What's the worst that could happen? A simple 'no'? But then again, you've never met this man; anything could happen. Taking a deep breath, you muster the courage to knock but are interrupted by a text.

From: Luffy 

“He’s not that bad, I swear! You’ll get along just fine.”

Easy for him to say, you think, shutting off your phone with a sigh. He could befriend a wall if he tried. After shutting off your phone, you turn to the door. As you finally go to knock, the door swings open abruptly, revealing a man in a penguin hat holding a trash bag. 

Not noticing your presence, the strange man collides into you. You stumble back as he falls, the bag ripping open, trash spilling all over. Groaning, he sits up, then realizes what - or who - he just ran into. “Oh shit… ARE YOU OKAY?” he exclaims, scrambling to his feet.

Stepping back from the spilled trash, you reply, “I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t move out of your way.” You then offered to help clean up, but he shakes his head at you and waves off your apology. “Why were you standing outside our door anyways? You lost or somethin’?”

Before you could respond, another figure steps out from the apartment - a tall, tattooed man in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Your eyes widen at the sight of him. This man is very, very attractive and catches you off-guard, fueling your anxiety. You start to blush.

He sighs at the scene before him. “You had one job,” he mutters to the first man, who can only laugh. After bickering back and forth about the mess in the hallway, the trash-covered man turns to you with a smile.

“Whatcha need, sweetheart? My name's Penguin” With a shaky smile, you introduce yourself and add, “I’m looking for a Trafalgar Law? My friend Luffy mentioned-" 

“That’s me. Call me Law.” The gorgeous man interrupts. His smirk doesn’t help your pounding heart as he invites you inside, telling his roommate to clean up the mess.

Walking into the apartment was like walking into a magazine. The place is unexpectedly pristine, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. “Woah…” You say to yourself while looking around. The living room is spacious, featuring a sleek black leather couch and a TV mounted above a fireplace. How can a couple of college kids afford this place?

Another guy emerges from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “I know right? Law’s basically an interior designer. If becoming a doctor doesn’t work out, you’ll definitely see him on HGTV or whatever that home design channel is.” You laugh, feeling your nerves slightly disappear. Law dismisses the comment with a glare and leads you to his room. "Don't mind Shachi, he loves to be an ass."

You follow him down a hallway, and he opens a door on the left, ushering you inside his room. You murmur a soft "thank you" as you step inside, taking in the neatly arranged space. Aside from a desk cluttered with medical books and papers, everything is meticulously tidy. You slowly scan the room, absorbing the details, while he settles into a chair at his desk. As you admire a collection on his shelf, you notice something familiar.

“Is that the ‘Sora, Warrior of the Sea’ collection?” You look closer to double check, and smile when you realize that you’re right. He doesn’t say anything for a while, but then clears his throat. “Yeah, been collecting them for a while. You read?” You mention how you and your brother, Sanji, grew up reading them together. He nods, not saying anything further.

After a few beats of silence, you realize that you forgot why you were there in the first place. Panicking, you start to stutter. “I- uh. Um..” He cocks his head at you, waiting to hear what you were trying to say. You feel yourself getting flustered again and widen your eyes. “Uh-”

“Luffy mentioned something about you needing my help? What can I do for you?” His expression was unreadable, yet he seemed to be listening intently.

You inhale deeply, gathering your thoughts before you start speaking. "Since starting college, my anxiety has worsened, and it’s hard to afford prescribed medication with my tight budget," you explain. "I mentioned exploring alternatives like weed to Luffy, and he suggested that I talk to you. Is there any way you can help me?" You stand there, gripping at your purse. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea; your nerves kick in again and you feel like running away from embarrassment.

Law nods and turns to his desk, pulling open a drawer to retrieve a vape pen, which he extends towards you. You take it, examining the unfamiliar device with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. Seeing your puzzled expression, Law asks, "Have you ever smoked or vaped before?" You shake your head. "No, I only drink when I go out."

He hums thoughtfully and gestures for you to hand it back. "Let me show you how it works, then." He carefully demonstrates how to use the vape pen, explaining each step as he goes, before handing it back to you. "Ready to give it a try?" Despite your hesitation, you nod. Law's demeanor instills a sense of trust, but the nerves are still there—after all, this is your first time smoking.

“You’ll probably cough quite a bit on your first try, but don’t worry, you’ll be okay. I’ve got some water ready if you need it,” he reassures you. You nod, feeling your palms begin to sweat.

You bring the pen up to your mouth, and inhale. The feeling was weird and very foreign, but not so bad. Immediately after, you feel a horrible burning sensation in your lungs and throat and start coughing. 

God, how embarrassing. Law quickly grabs his glass of water and hands it to you and you drink it immediately, thankful for his preparedness. After a couple of minutes, and a refill of water later, you finally start to calm down. You look over at Law and see him smirking. “So, how was your first hit?” he asks.

“What do you think?” you retort, half-embarrassed, half-amused. He smiles, turning back to his desk. “See how the pen works for you from now on, then we can discuss other options. That’s yours to keep, no charge. Consider it a first-timer’s discount.” Smiling, you whisper a quick “thank you” and take another hit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few hours filled with small talk, you find yourself surprisingly at ease with Law. As the evening unfolds, you not only learn more about him but also share aspects of yourself that you usually keep reserved during a first meeting. His company is surprisingly delightful, and you make a mental note to thank Luffy later.

Stretching your arms, you suddenly realize how late it has become. "Oh my god, I didn't realize the time—I have a paper due tomorrow!" you exclaim, hastily grabbing your purse as Law rises and stretches alongside you. Catching a glimpse of his tattooed abdomen, you feel a flush of warmth. Can he get any hotter? You quickly avert your gaze before he notices you staring.

He leads you to the door, passing his roommates who are deeply engrossed in a video game, oblivious to your departure. At the front door, you pause and turn to face him. Law doesn’t seem like the type of person who gives goodbye hugs, which is really more like your style, so you simply smile at him instead.

"Thanks again for everything," you say, gratitude coloring your voice. "When should I come back?" He returns your smile, his eyes slightly lighting up. "Same time next week?"

Your cheeks warm at his smile, and you find yourself nodding eagerly. "Yeah, that sounds perfect."

a/n: idk why, but college law just seems like the type of guy to be a plug LOL hope y'all enjoy

'til next time!

[thequeendesi]

Two Pink Lines

Title: Two Pink Lines

Alt Title: I’ve Heard Worse News

Warnings: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of bad childhood

Pairing: Fezco x Reader x Platonic!Ash (lil bro ash and big sis reader ftw)

Disclaimer: I don’t own you or the euphoria franchise. I own the writing.

Rating: PG I reckon

Word count: 2k

A/N: I haven’t written anything in three months! I hope this doesn’t suck! I’ve had so much going on lately! I’ve gotten into my own place w my bf, I had a car crash, a major pregnancy scare, and a job promotion lol. I’m doing alright rn, so I figured I’d take the chance and finally get something out again! Thank you all for being so so kind and patient w my inconsistent ass 😂 I genuinely love all of y’all!!

✨✨

You sighed, placing the test face down on the counter. Music playing from your phone to try and ease your nerves. Snooze by SZA playing low as you slipped down the wall. You pulled your knees to your chest as you allowed the song to play through, your brain running the entire time.

The jokes you made to your boyfriend, Fez, were just that. Jokes. In no way did you actually think you were ready for children. You had just graduated from East Highland less than a week ago.

Your childhood wasn’t the most pleasant. You had been living with your boyfriend since you two were 13 and 14. Fez was all you knew, and you were all he knew. You knew everything about him and his life. His grandma, his job, his brother. And you fit like a glove in all of it. His grandmother took you in with open arms and loved you as her own.

You didn’t know what you’d do with a baby, you didn’t know where it would fit into your current life. You worked at the local breakfast place, it was like a Waffle House, but called MeeMaw Judy’s Home.

Your mind drifted to Fez. He didn’t want kids. You knew for a fact because he always told you “keep it movin’ ma”, everytime you passed baby aisles. Hell, the two of you even had talked about it last night. As far as Fezco was concerned, he didn’t see a baby in y’all’s plans for at least another 4 years.

The song ended and you took a deep breath. You couldn’t begin to explain how long those 3 minutes were. “Alright.” You whispered to yourself as you stood up, turning over the test you stared at them. Two pink lines. You’re not even sure you’ve ever seen pink lines so dark.

“Fuck.” You whispered as you placed the test on the counter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you said, voice cracking at the last fuck, tears welling in your eyes. You had false positives before, only for the next test to have been negative. But this time you knew you were pregnant. Nausea, fatigue, as well as paired with your period being late not one, but two weeks? Oh yea, your eggo is preggo.

Your thoughts ran to a complete halt as the door opened. “(Y/N)! Can you make waffles… what the fuck is all of this?” Ash asked, looking at the test on the counter. Your heart sank as you tried to explain. “Look, I just… just please get out. Please.” You pleaded, trying to push him out. “Hey, it’s ok. Stop stressin’. Y’a’int in trouble. Just… y’know. Take a deep breath.”

Ash grabbed your hand, thumb rubbing over your knuckles, a trait he picked up from Fez after he noticed it helped you calm down. “Ash, please. I need to think of how to tell Fez.” Ash shook his head before leading you to sit on the couch. “Worry about calmin’ your ass down first. You’re acting like your life is over. It’s just a baby.” Ash let go of your hand.

You felt yourself relax a little. How was he so calm? How is your life not over? Taking another look at the test, you grabbed it. “This wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” You walked out of the bathroom to the living room.

You sat on the couch and let go of the breath you were holding. “Why’re you so freaked out?” Ash asked, taking a seat next to you.

“Ash, you’re 14. I really don’t think any of this is your business. You’re too young.” You said, placing the test face down on the table.

“(Name).” Ash said plainly, looking at you.

“Okay. Fair.” You nodded, before taking a deep breath. You’re really about to vent to your boyfriend’s 14 year old brother? Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Ash looked at you as a mother figure, seeing as his only real one was incapacitated.

“Fez doesn’t want kids. Not now at least.” You

“Well, ya should’ve been safer, huh?” He crossed his arms. “What’s the plan (Y/N)?” Ash asked you, leaning back into the couch.

“I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far ahead. A minute ago I found out I’m…” The words got caught in your throat as you leaned onto the couch as well. “You think MeeMaw’ll let me bring a kid to work?” You half joked.

“I’ve seen what she allows, it wouldn’t surprise me.” Ash said, a small smile finding itself on his rather stoic face.

Mrs. Judy, or MeeMaw as you and everyone called her, was a kinder old lady. Standing at a firm 4’10 inches, she’s seen a thing or two. She was always kind to you, making sure you had food to bring home to the boys. She knew your upbringing and the conditions that landed you to who you became.

“When’s Fez supposed to come home anyways?” You asked Ash. “Not sure. He’s sellin’ at some kid’s party tonight. What’s her name, Kat, I think?” He shrugged. “He probably won’t be home until midnight then,” you sighed, rubbing your face, “gives me at least 2 hours to think about what I’m gonna do.”

“I got somethin’ you can do then.”

“Waffles?” You half-laughed, looking at Ash through your fingers. “I think we need to buy eggs and milk for it actually.”

“Damn.” He placed his arms next to his sides. “We can watch a movie?” You suggested. “I got Maddy’s Netflix.” You shrugged.

“Better than waitin’ around for nothin’.” Ash grabbed the remote and handed it to you.

Turning on a movie on Netflix, some random movie by Adam Sandler, who’s movies were yours and Ash’s favorite way to pass time.

He quickly tuned into it, but your eyes glued onto the white slender test. Millions of thoughts ran through your mind.

Was Fez gonna be mad?

Was he gonna leave? Or more so, make you leave?

Was he gonna tell you it’s ok?

Was he gonna marry you? God, what a thought. Marriage wasn’t a bad thing, by no means. When it works.

By 12, your mother had been married 6 times, and two of them were remarriages to your father. Screaming, crashing and crying was no stranger to you.

You remember the argument your parents had that led them to that final divorce and you into Fez’s home.

“(Mother Name)! What’s this shit? You’re pregnant? Again?!”

“I was gonna tell you! You went snooping through the trash? Are you fucking insane?!” CRASH, you heard as the test that was thrown at the picture frame that had a picture of you holding your half-brother. You sniffed the tears back as you packed your bag faster.

“You should’ve wrapped it if you didn’t want this shit!” She screamed at him. “Fuck that! You’re just as much to blame! Is it even mine, whore?!”

“Oh fuck you, you bastard!”

“No thank you! That’s how we landed here! Just go! Go and fucking take your goddamn mistakes with you!”

Mistake? That’s all your father thought of you?

“You act like I wanted to get pregnant again, or any time beforehand! I didn’t want these fucking kids anymore than you or Jerald and Will did! Besides, (Name) is the only one here!”

Nevermind, there was your mother being the way she was. You looked at the broken glass on the floor as you stood in the doorframe.

“I’m not going with her.” You stated, in your broken little voice. “You’re not fucking staying with me.”

“I wasn’t fucking planning on it.” You walked past your father. “The fuck are you going?” Your mother asked.

“Why do you care?” You grabbed the doorknob, the rest of your body turning to look at your parents. “I’m a mistake to both of you, so why is it such a big fucking deal if I just grant you both your wish of getting out of your hair?” You asked them, tears free-flowing down your cheeks.

“Why the hell did you have kids if you hate them?” You asked them. “Why do I have to be an adult when I’m 13?”

Your parents stared at you, expression unrecognizable. “Well, just so you know, I hate you guys. So don’t worry, the feelings aren’t one sided.” You opened the door and walked out, closing it behind you.

You used your finger to wipe the tear that began to slip down your cheek. You haven’t seen your parents since that day, hell, you don’t even know if they’re alive or dead. You sent a graduation invitation to the house your mother lived at, but received the initiation back with RETURN TO SENDER in red letters over your face.

You looked over at Ash, who was fast asleep with his head on your lap. You smiled a little at him, and your gaze returned to the test.

Your phone began ringing from the bathroom and you gently placed Ash’s head on the couch. He curled up in a ball as he got re-comfortable. You walked to the bathroom and grabbed your phone.

Answering the call, you placed the phone to your ear. “Hey ma.” Fez’s voice sounded like honey over the phone. “Hey baby.” You said, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you threw the box in the trash. “Ash ‘sleep?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You answered, walking back to the living room to grab the test.

“You good?” He asked into the phone as you heard his blinker. “Yea… no. I just… we gotta talk when you get home.” You answered, walking to the front door. “I’ll just meet you at the car so we can talk without waking up Ash.” You told him, hanging the phone up.

You walked to the front of the house and leaned against the gate. You put the test in your bra as you waited.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you watched the bright lights pull in front of you. Putting your head down you walked over to the passenger seat and got in.

“What’s wrong?” He looked at you, his hand moving to hold your face. His hand rested on your cheek as he made you look at him. “Whatever it is, ma, it’s gonna be aight.” He said, thumb stroking the soft flesh of your cheek.

Your lip quivered as you let go of the breath you were holding. “I’m pregnant, Fez.” You said straight out, taking the test out of your bra to hand to him, eyes drifting to the floor.

“Oh.” His hand leaves your cheek to grab the test, turning on an overhead light, he looks at it. “I’m sorry.” You sniffed, eyes welling with tears as you stared at your feet on the floorboard.

“Whatchu sorry for? This ain’t bad news. I thought you was finna tell me someone died.” He looked at you. “It ain’t like we knew it was gonna happen. Shit happens, ma. We’ll figure it out, somehow. Hell, grandma did.”

“You’re not mad?” You asked him. “I’m not thrilled. But that part ain’t important no more.” He took your face in his hands, test between his fingers. “You’re what’s important to me, ma. Without you, I don’t know where I’d be.” He kissed you softly. “We’re gonna have a baby. I’ve heard of worse news from you.” He said against your lips.

“I was scared you’d yell at me.” You confessed.

“Yell?” He pulled away from you. “Not about somethin’ like this.” He shook his head. “We got other shit to worry about rather than yellin’. Yellin’ ain’t gon’ get anything done other than stress my babies out.” He said simply.

“I got milk and eggs. Ash texted me.” He said.

“I guess I ain’t getting out of making them waffles, huh?”

“You figured you know better about that.” Fez half joked, grabbing the milk and eggs bag from the backseat.

“Now come on, I’m tired. It’s been a long night. We can talk more in the morning.” You patted his thigh and kissed his cheek.

He laughed a little and nodded his head. “Alright ma.”

[smilesrobotlover]

Whumptober day 31- asking for help

And that’s the end of whumptober 🥺🥺 I just wanna take a moment to say thank you for those who read my fics this month and for listening to my many rambles haha. I appreciate the comments and reblogs on these fics and I appreciate the support! It was a challenge for sure but I’m so proud of completing yet another year of whumptober, and having it be a coherent story! After last year when a story formed at the end, I knew I wanted to do it again but with the whole month, and it was a challenge but I could feel myself improve in the middle of the month! Thanks again and I hope y’all enjoy this softer day 😊

~~~~

Leon stared blankly at the thicket in front of him, his back turned to the group as he sat away from them on a log. He was picking at his hands, his mind blank as he heard soft chatter behind him, the chatter of his friends. The only relief he had from everything was knowing that despite the puppeteer’s trick, Leon had tricked him as well.

“He has my son,” Leon had explained to Rusl while hugging him by the river, his voice as soft as it's ever been as he said it directly in his ear. “He wants me to kill you for him and I don’t know what to do. He’s watching me.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered back to Leon, instantly understanding the situation, and he left to explain it to the others. They devised a plan to fake their deaths, even going as far as to burn their clothes after Leon had “killed” them to make it seem more real. The men had executed their plan perfectly, explaining it to Leon through a crumpled piece of parchment Rusl handed to him when he returned. It was difficult to read without the puppeteer knowing, but Leon was able to do so, and he followed through with the plan.

The puppeteer tried to trick him into killing his friends, but he was unsuccessful, and it gave Leon some peace of mind.

Though his friends were just… too good at acting. Even though he knew he was pretending to kill them, the very idea of actually doing it was too much to bear. He couldn’t ever hurt them, no matter how annoyed he got from them, or how furious he got, he could never hurt them of his own free will. Leon’s breath hitched as he rubbed his hand, the phantom pains from the healed bones shooting through his arm, and the bitter taste of a red potion lingered in his mouth.

“Hey.”

Leon turned to see Rusl holding out a cup to him, a soft smile on his face.

“Some tea to help calm the nerves,” he explained, and Leon took the cup, giving Rusl a grateful nod. Before he could turn back around, however, Rusl stopped him, gesturing to the rest of the group. “Come join us, will you?”

Leon was reluctant, but nodded, knowing that he'd been sulking for long enough. He owed the men an explanation and an apology for everything. His friends watched him as he sat down with Rusl by his side, and he looked down at the cup of tea, avoiding their gazes. They were all wearing different clothes after burning their old ones, save for a few articles of clothing that were sentimental to the men. They looked different—they looked stronger. Leon sighed, rubbing the rim of the cup as they continued to stare, as if waiting for him to speak up.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he finally said, “I’m sorry for everything I have caused and… for any stress that may have come from this.”

“All is well Leon,” Talon said, the men all muttering in agreement. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, it was my fault,” Leon pushed, “I fought the monster on my own instead of getting you all to help me and I got myself captured and—“

“Hey, it’s ok, it all worked out in the end,” Talon continued, but Leon shook his head.

“But I risked your lives! You all could’ve died if I hadn’t been so careless!”

“But we didn’t,” Rusl said firmly, “you still made sure we had a chance for survival despite the risks!”

“Yeah!” Benji jumped in, “how else were we supposed to come up with a plan without you telling Rusl?”

Leon looked down, still feeling guilty over everything. “It’s my job to protect you all.”

“You put too much on your shoulders for us, Leon,” Kass said, and Rusl nodded.

“It’s all of our jobs to protect each other. We’re a team for that reason.”

Leon sighed and looked down, nodding slightly. “I know… but—“ he sighed again, resting his face on his hands. He was so tired.

“It’s ok, Leon,” Rusl pressed.

“Yes, if I was out in your situation, I don’t know what I would’ve done,” Ammon jumped in. “You acted very wisely despite all that was given to you.”

Leon shook his head that was still resting in his hands. “I still could’ve done better.”

The men grew silent this time, the sound being his heavy breathing as he tried to get himself under control.

“Well, I guess there were things you could’ve done better,” Linebeck finally spoke up, and Leon peeked through his hands to look at him. His arms were crossed as he stared at him, a firm look on his face. “But the point is that we survived. You survived and so did your kid. So it’s time we stop thinking about what we could’ve done and focus on what we do next. Ok?”

Leon blinked, shocked into silence, but he slowly nodded his head. Linebeck was right, there was no reason to dwell on the past. In the end, everything turned out fine despite the emotional turmoil it caused him—it was better than it ending up with everyone dead after all. But…

“I j-just need a moment,” he stammered, shame apparent on his face, but he knew he had to be open with them. “I don’t think I can go on like th-this, I’m sorry.”

Linebeck’s expression softened and he nodded. “Of course. We don’t need to move on yet. We can just… be here in the now.”

The rest of the men agreed, and Leon looked down as the tears started to form in his eyes. Goddesses, he’s been crying so much lately….

“I just… thought I finally had him,” Leon whimpered, “I thought I had him in my arms but it was just a fake. I almost went home without him!”

“The puppeteer is a sick man,” Rusl commented, rubbing Leon’s back in small circles, which calmed him. “My guess is that it was his plan from the start, but he needed the real one to get you to believe him.”

“At least he’s ok,” Kass said, “he’s with the Links, right? I’m sure he’s safe and sound now.”

“Yeah, thank the spirits.”

Leon nodded. He was eternally grateful that his son was at least alive and safe from the puppeteer. But he still hoped that he’d be able to finally reunite with him—he hoped that they could be led to the rest of the Links. But they were back to searching for clues, running in circles in a desperate attempt to find them while nearly dying in the process.

“Hey,” Ammon started, rubbing his beard, “since the Links saved Leon’s son, then surely they’d be… somewhat closeby, right?”

“We don’t know when they came, is the problem,” Benji said, “they could be long gone by now.”

“But we’re closer than we’ve ever been before,” Ammon continued. “They must be somewhere in these woods, right?”

Leon blinked, his breathing evening out as he thought about it. They were closer than they’ve ever been before; even if the Links arrived way before he had, they definitely were still in these woods. Maybe there was hope…

“Well, we can go searching tomorrow,” Rusl commented, looking up at the golden sky. “I think it’s getting too late.”

Rusl glanced down at Leon who was sitting up now, his eyes puffy and red. Leon glanced back up at him and he nodded.

“I agree. We can search tomorrow and hopefully find their trail,” he said, feeling a bit more energized with the sliver of hope in finding his son. The men all nodded, smiles on their faces as he stopped moping slightly, but Leon glanced around and frowned, looking down at the ground once again. “I—I just want you all to know that… I never want to harm any of you. That’s why I’m so… disturbed right now—that and my son—but… you all were so… decisive and…I—thank you.” Leon let out a sigh, his eyes closed as he nodded his head. “Thank you. For helping me despite the risk. I-I’m glad to have met all of you.”

“Aw, Leon.” Taon got up from where he was sitting and walked up to the man, his hand resting on Leon’s shoulder. “You need a hug, buddy?”

Leon was hesitant, but he honestly needed one, so he nodded with an embarrassed look on his face. Talon chuckled and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close so Leon could lean on him. He instantly melted into the hug, wrapping his arms around Talon and clinging onto him as if his life depended on it. There was shuffling behind him, and he felt Rusl lean on him, joining in on the hug.

“Oh I need to get in on this action!” Benji exclaimed, ramming into Talon.

“Oh—I guess we’re hugging now,” Ammon muttered as Kass led him to the hug, and he reluctantly stood there with Kass wrapping his wings around everyone.

“Uh, I’m gonna stand over there,” Linebeck started, but Rusl grabbed him and forced him back to the group hug, which he begrudgingly joined. “There there Leon,” he muttered, patting his head, which made Leon chuckle slightly. It felt nice to laugh after the past few days, and it truthfully felt nice to be held. He was still tired and distressed, but the weight felt lifted slightly by those around him, his chest felt looser, and he felt warm. As long as he could rely on these men, he knew that they’d all survive, that they’d be victorious.

As long as they stuck together, they were going to be fine.

[its-time-to-write]

Hi y’all! This is my last unprompted angsty fic for a little! Gonna go back to our usually scheduled hijinks that are sitting in my request pile, I wanted to do this one first. I write all these as a way to deal with things that happen in my own life, whether it’s stressing about school and work, stupid romance, great romance, family, health, whatever, and I wanted to say (yet again) thank you for all the support. Sometimes I still can’t believe that you all like what I write but hey, there ya go

It’s funny, because my most popular fics are the ones that have been written directly out of my actual life. The ones that start out hard-to-deal-with, or with real, palpable heartbreak. The endings are often different because real life isn’t guaranteed a happy ending, but I’m allowed to take the past and see what it would be like if things went differently.

My characterization of Jamie is based on the only person I’ve ever really loved, which is why I can write his voice so clearly. I first watched Ted Lasso and was surprised at how similar they were, stupid hair and all. A lot of these fics are my way of archiving our story and immortalizing parts of it, as well as reminding myself that the love was there. It didn’t last and it wasn’t supposed to, but it was there.

Now, what’s real and what’s fiction? I’ll leave that up to you to decide, but I will say that it’s more than you might think and less than you might hope for.

So if you read this current fic and think, “huh, that was a really specific premise,” well I got news for you! It is. I’m in the first part of my journey on this, the early stages, and this story is not the way I want things to go for me. But I’m hoping that by creating a good ending out of a rough beginning, I can better face whatever lies ahead for me whether I approach it on my own two feet or with the assistance of some really sick wheels.

Anyway, enjoy this or skip it, it won’t hurt my feelings!

how to love being alive

Jamie’s at training when he gets the call. He barely registers the words on the other side when he’s cursing something awful, enough to make Roy Kent blush, and saying something about an emergency before speeding out the door. He pauses for a moment to look up an address in his phone, then he’s tearing out of the parking lot in a manner that puts Colin to shame. 

To summarize, he’s not acting like himself. 

He pulls up to a chiropractor of all places and the girl at the front desk must be able to tell who he’s here for because she just points to a door down the hall. Jamie’s pretty sure he’s never moved this quick in his life and wonders if this could translate to the pitch. Sure he’s fast, but he could always be faster. 

He bursts through the door to see you borderline catatonic, staring at the floor while a doctor pats your arm. She looks at Jamie and says, “Let’s chat for a minute outside,” before he has a chance to say a single thing. Jamie can’t tear his eyes away from you as the doctor leads him out and shuts the door. 

“Thought emergency contacts were for like, hospitals and shit,” he says. 

The chiropractor shakes her head. Jamie notes that her name tag says “Dr. Hadley,” and has a vague memory of you mentioning her a few months ago. 

God, it feels like a lifetime ago. 

“We’re not confident she’s in a fit state to get herself home,” Dr. Hadley says. “Her headspace is a little messed up, which is to be expected. Usually people come to these types of appointments with some moral support.”

Jamie asks, “What kinds of appointments?” and Dr. Hadley tilts her head at him. 

“You are Mr. Tartt, aren’t you?” she asks and Jamie just scoffs because he can’t decide between responding obviously, or telling her no, he’s not Mr. Tartt, that’s his father. He’s just Jamie. 

Dr. Hadley knows who he is because she doesn’t live in a hole in the ground, so she doesn’t ask for identification. She takes his scoff as permission to keep talking, so she says, “She’s here for her MRI results. We’ve been in the process of treating a protrusion on her spine.”

Jamie is positive everyone in this office must think he’s on drugs because Dr. Hadley is talking like he’s supposed to know this, but for the life of him he knows you’d never said a thing. 

“Your girlfriend has been in a severe amount of pain over the last few months, and we’ve finally been able to see the extent of the problem. Apparently she thought it would just go away, but it never did. So now she’s here with us.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jamie says automatically. Because it’s true, innit? You’re not. You’ve been broken up for a month because he couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take the irritation at attending his matches and the tossing and turning in bed at night and the fact that you were wound so tight that you’d snap at the most minor offenses. 

You hadn’t been surprised when Jamie said he couldn’t do it anymore, it’s over, and at the time he had wished that you’d shown just a tiny sliver of emotion. After all, a year and two months is a long time to be with someone for you to coldly slide him his key and then turn away as though he were a stranger. 

He could have sworn there was a glimmer of tears in your eyes, but they’d looked that way for a bit now so maybe it was just allergies. There’s no reason for you to have been in the verge of tears for the entire month before the breakup, right?

Right. 

But he can’t think about that now because Dr. Hadley is frowning at him in a way that so comically reminds him of Roy’s sister that he has to bite back a laugh. 

Everything’s all twisted. 

“I certainly hope your split was amicable,” Dr. Hadley says. “You’re the only one listed as her emergency contact. She needs someone to get her home safely.”

“Right,” says Jamie. “Yes. Fuck. Right. Um, what exactly is wrong with her?” 

Dr. Hadley shakes her head. “That’s her personal information to share with you at her prerogative. And we should probably go see her, I’m sure she doesn’t want to be alone for long.”

Jamie snorts at that. This doctor doesn’t know you at all. If you’ve received any type of bad news the last thing you want is people hanging around. 

Jamie used to pride himself on being the only one you’d let into the bad-new bubble. 

You don’t count with those other people, you’d said once while wrapped around Jamie so tight he thought he’d have to call Ted to bring a crowbar. You said, I don’t have to pretend around you. I don’t ever get tired of you.

Jamie bitterly thinks that that statement turned out to be a lie, but he shakes it off because you’ve only been separated a month, and apparently he’s still your emergency contact for a doctor he didn’t know you had been seeing and fuck if you didn’t look like the most pitiful thing he’d ever seen. He’ll pretend it’s ok for as long as it takes to get you home and comfortable, and then he’s calling this office to get his number switched off. 

So he follows Dr. Hadley back into the room as she softly says your name in order to break whatever trance has you studying the carpet like your final exam is in ten minutes. 

You can barely look at her as she whispers something about going home and being gentle, to which you nod and finally look at Jamie. 

He wonders if you recognize him, because the stare you have is so vacant that you might as well be looking at a stranger. 

“Is she on drugs?” he asks because it looks like you’re on drugs. 

Dr. Hadley shakes her head and holds out her arm to help you up. “No, she’s just in a lot of pain. And emotional distress. It’s a killer combo, and she’ll need extra gentle handling for a while. No sitting for too long, no bending, no lifting. There’s a back support at the front desk for you to take.”

Jamie thinks he hears something pointed in the way Dr. Hadley says, extra gentle. What, like he doesn’t know how bad an injury can take you out? He’s in the Premier League for fuck’s sake. He knows how to deal with a strained muscle. 

Dr. Hadley transfers your arm over to Jamie’s so smoothly that he barely understands what’s happening as she ushers you both out the door, thrusting a small foam roll into Jamie’s free hand. 

“For lumbar support,” she says. “Won’t help much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Jamie’s pretty sure he’s said thanks as you climb in the car and then he’s in the drivers seat and it’s dead quiet. 

“Right,” he says to the silence. “What the fuck.”

You’re picking at your nails something fierce. Jamie has to fight the urge to take your hand in his. A month of separation is not long enough for this shit. 

“Can you just drive?” you ask in a broken voice. “I don’t want to be sitting for longer than I have to.”

There’s a new pitch in your voice, one Jamie’s never heard before, so he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t turn on the radio or a playlist or a podcast or anything, just drives in silence. He knows if it’s quiet long enough, you’ll talk. 

He’s the opposite. He doesn’t need time to crack wide open, just a kind touch or a soft glance and he’s an open book. He was always shocked how early into your relationship you’d figured that out. A soft, “What’s on your mind, Jaim?” and he was unloading about whatever stress or fear he had. 

He’s two minutes away from your flat when you break the silence. “I have gradual onset paralysis,” you say in a voice devoid of emotion. “‘Gradual onset’ means it happens over time. Paralysis means, well…paralysis.”

Jamie can hear what you’re saying and he understands it, but what catches him is the way you’re like nothing more than a hollow body. Not cracking a joke, not picking a fight. Just- empty. 

Jamie says a long and drawn out “Fuuuckk,” because what else can you say? It’s not really his business to comfort you or to pry, except he’s the one the doctor called, so he allows himself one question. 

“How did it happen?”

Last he knew, you were healthy as a horse. 

“Two disks in my spine popped,” you reply, still in that same awful emotionless voice. “They’re not really sure how, could’ve been any number of things. Anyway, it got into my nerves. And my spinal cord. And it’s messing things up and it’s only going to get worse. The scans were to see if they could operate, because sometimes you can remove the shards. Or whatever it is. But I guess they can’t, because if they tried I’d definitely be paralyzed. So all I can do now is be in pain and wait for my legs to shut down.”

Jamie doesn’t know how to respond to any of that but he’s saved from thinking of an adequate response because he’s at your flat. 

It was smart of you not to sell it when you’d moved in with Jamie. He wonders if you knew the breakup was inevitable. 

He hops out and opens the door like a gentleman, offering his hand like he’s some Mr. Darcy-type shit, except you had both agreed that Roy was Mr. Darcy and he was Bingley. So it doesn’t fit at all except as soon as you’re done clutching his hand so you can get out without unnecessary pain, his hand flexes itself like he’s in that damn movie. 

It wasn’t even a conscious choice, just a thing his hand decided to do, and he definitely thinks he’s going to have to talk to Ted about this. Or maybe Sam. Sam knows shit and is good at empathy. Maybe he’ll know what to say when your ex-girlfriend tells you she’s not going to walk ever again. 

Jamie follows you to the door as you fiddle with the lock and push it open with a sigh. For a moment he doesn’t know if he should go inside, but it smells like honey and cinnamon because it’s the beginning of fall and he thinks that he should at least make sure you’ll be alright. 

He notices you’re moving weird. All stiff, like. You’re trying to get an icepack out of the freezer but you can’t maneuver in a way that’s comfortable so Jamie grabs it and hands it to you. 

You mumble, “Thanks,” and Jamie catches a glimpse of the perpetual glimmer in your eye. 

“D’you need me to call someone?” he asks. “I can get Keeley down here. Or fucking… Ted. Or Colin.” He doesn’t say Sam, because he needs Sam. He can’t talk to Sam if he’s here with you. 

You shake your head. Jamie wonders if it hurts to talk, but he remembers how much you hate the sound of your voice when you’re crying. 

You take a slow, shallow breath to collect yourself. “I’m ok,” you finally say. “Not much anyone can do, and you’ve got training. I- I didn’t know they’d call you. I still have to switch your number with someone else. I’m probably going to ask Keeley since my family’s still far away.”

“Right,” Jamie says. Not much else to say. Except- 

“You were seeing that bone doctor when we were together, and you didn’t fucking say anything?”

It’s accusatory and he knows it, but he can’t for the life of him say it kinder. Ted’s always on about communication and shit, and that is not communication. 

You shuffle over to the couch and use it to help you lay face down in the floor. The icepack is precariously balanced on the small of your back. 

“Didn’t know how to tell you,” comes your muffled voice. “Least, I figured out how to tell you too late. What was I gonna say, ‘Sorry I’ve been a complete bitch to you for four weeks, I’ve got shit floating around in my spine that makes me hurt so bad I want to die?’ Sounds fucking stupid.”

Jamie wants to say, Swear jar because it’s a long-standing joke, but he catches the words right before they reach the tip of his tongue. 

“You could’ve said something,” he replies instead. “Chronic pain’s shit. It’s really shit and it makes you act like shit to the people you care about. It’s not an excuse, but it’s a reason.” As the words are coming out of his mouth, Jamie is reminded of a time when the roles were reversed, and you were giving him the “excuse versus reason,” speech. 

You’d said, You’re dad’s an abusive prick, Jamie. Makes sense that you’d have a lot of negative emotions. 

Fuck, if only you’d said something sooner. Maybe this would be something that you’d be cracking jokes about, or Jamie would be holding your hand, or he’d be laying right next to you as he runs his fingers through your hair. 

But your muscles spasm so that thought gets banished as you bite on your forearm in an effort not to yell. 

“Fucking hell,” Jamie says. “I don’t think you’re sorted on your own. I’m calling Ted.”

He walks to the other room so he can pretend he can’t hear your protests. 

—

Ted leaves training to Roy, Beard, and Nate. What’s the point in having four coaches if one of ‘em can’t leave for family emergencies?

Sure, you’re not actually family, but that’s Ted for you. He doesn’t do casual friendships. 

Jamie is out the door like a shot as soon as Ted knocks with a “Sorry, coach,” that Ted barely has a chance to wave off. 

Ted doesn’t say much once he’s inside, just rambles on about training and Kansas and Henry. He’s clattering around in your kitchen and you can’t find it in yourself to care what he’s doing so you just keep laying on the floor, willing your back to stop hurting. 

Finally, he comes over and sets down a smoothie in a short glass with a straw. 

“It’s so you can drink it without moving,” he explains. 

“I don’t think I can do this,” you say more to the couch legs than to Ted.

He sighs from where he’s crouched down next to you. “You don’t really have a choice, darlin’. You have to do this. The question is, are you gonna go through it alone?”

You shrug as best as you’re able. 

“Wrong answer,” says Ted, standing up. “You’ve got a whole crew of people here who are gonna root for you and support you with whatever you need. All you got to do is ask, sweetheart.”

Ah, fuck, you’re crying again and Ted can definitely tell because your shoulders are shaking. He’s pretty sure you’d want to save face so he stands up and says, “Beard’s coming over after training. Says he wants to figure out how to modify your house for a wheelchair or something. Thought I’d make us all dinner so we’re not so hangry when he mentions taking an ax to anything.”

The mental image of Coach Beard chopping down your stairs is enough to make you smile a little through your tears.

—

Waiting is really shitty. Like, really shitty. Every day is the same thing: tingly legs, shooting pains, phantom cramps. The worst was when Dani and Richard were over and you stood up to get something from the fridge, and your legs decided at that moment to lose feeling. You panicked with your arms held out for balance as you swayed back and forth for a moment, willing your feet to fucking move. They did, but not before Dani and Richard were on you in a flash, ready to catch you if you fell.

“Well that was weird,” you joke in an effort to cut the tension. They laugh, but you still catch their worried glance.

“You do not have to put on a brave face for us,” Dani says. “If you want to joke, we will joke. But if you want to cry, we will cry too.”

“You can cry,” Richard says, “I will just pour more wine.”

You laugh. There’s been a steady stream of Greyhounds at your flat for the last week and a half. Everyone and their mother (quite literally) has come by to see you. Your own parents were coming in a week to stay indefinitely while you sorted things out.

You wonder if it’s easier to lose control of your legs slowly or all at once? On the one hand, you at least have notice. But on the other hand, the long, drawn-out waiting feels like slow torture. Every day you wake up from restless sleep and experimentally wiggle your toes. Every day, you check off one more box on your mental calendar as you count down to a date that doesn’t even properly exist.

The only person who hasn’t visited is Jamie. You don’t blame him, though. Keeley’s come round almost every single day and has been successfully switched to your emergency contact. She’s the one you’re calling as soon as you discover you can’t move.

You’re pretty sure it’s getting closer. Your legs fall asleep more frequently and things are all numb. It’s like you know you’re in pain, but it’s not quite registering with your nerves.

It fucking sucks.

—

You don’t believe in intuition like spirits and all that, but you believe in it in that your brain can pick up things that you couldn’t if you were actually trying.

That’s why you’re pretty sure this is it.

Walking is pretty much a no-go right now, so you stiff-leg yourself to the couch and sprawl out as comfortably as you can.

You call Keeley, and she’s over in no time.

“Hi babes,” she says as soon as she’s through the door, “Can I call Rebecca for girls’s night?”

“Sure,” you say, “Might as well live it up.”

Keeley replies, “Great! She’ll be here in ten minutes,” and you laugh, really actually laugh, because of course Keeley’s already called her.

Rebecca swoops in all smiles and no sympathy which is great because if one more person pushes their lower lip out at you, you’re going to scream. She’s brought drinks and Keeley’s pulling out snacks and you’re going to talk and giggle until you fall asleep, ready for what the morning has.

“Is Shandy making a move on that one player?” Rebecca asks Keeley from the couch. 

“Nah,” Keeley calls back, “He said he wasn’t interested right now. Still hung up, I think.”

“What player?”  you ask. You know what Shandy’s like, and you feel for the poor guy.

Rebecca and Keeley are silent before Keeley says, “You wouldn’t know him.”

“Bullshit,” you reply. “I know everyone on that team and I know you haven’t signed anyone new recently. Is it Colin?” 

Rebecca shakes her head and gives Keeley a look. Keeley shrugs. “You’re the one who brought it up, babes.”

Rebecca turns to you. “It’s Jamie,” she says. “She’s been trying to bag him ever since Zava showed up.”

You shake your head. “She’s not right for him. He deserves someone better than that.”

Keeley’s back from the kitchen and scrutinizing your expression. “And what exactly do you mean by better?” she asks.

You laugh. “Oh no, not me. I wasn’t talking about me. No, I’m not- he needs someone different. Like, I don’t know, Roy’s sister, maybe? She’s great and a doctor to boot. Very caring too.”

“You’re caring,” Keeley says slowly, “And anyway, Molly doesn’t like him like that. They’re just friends.”

“Hang on, are you putting yourself in the same bracket as Shandy?” Rebecca interjects.

You shrug. “I was a complete bitch the last month we were together. There’s no excuse for it. I’m just surprised he lasted as long as he did.”

“You were in fucking pain!” Keeley exclaims. “You said you weren’t sleeping and everything fucking hurt and you couldn’t even think straight.”

You grab a handful of candy from a bowl. “Keels, I appreciate the sentiment, but I majorly fucked it. Like, there’s no going back. So he can date whoever he wants as long as it’s not fucking Shandy. Can we please, please move on?”

Rebecca’s eyes are narrowed but they both acquiesce. “Keeley, what about your love life? I’m sure it’s boring as usual.”

Keeley shrieks and smacks her with a pillow. “Fuck off,” she replies. “I’ll have you know it’s going very well…”

—

You were right. You wake up still on the couch tangled in Keeley’s arms, and the standard toe-wiggle just… doesn’t happen. It’s quiet, the early morning type, the kind where the sunlight isn’t so harsh and birds are chirping softly and all of Richmond hasn’t quite got up to begin their day. 

As you look at your unmoving toes, the first thing you feel is a rush of relief. The waiting’s over, you think. 

You look over to the wheelchair that’s been leaning patiently against the wall all this time. Here’s the first day of forever. You’re in no rush for it to start, so you let Keeley’s little snores and Rebecca’s heavy breathing lull you back to sleep. 

—

It’s definitely a learning curve. And it’s frustrating. And if one more person catches you crying out of sheer rage, you’re going to start throwing things. But like Ted said, you don’t really have a choice. 

Your mom said, “The only way out is through,” then grinned at the murderous glare you shot her way. She opened her phone and pulled up a picture of you, age three. “Same lovely expression as always,” she remarks cheerfully. That cracks your frown. You always were a funny kid. 

It takes a while to figure out how to get places. Keeley (the absolute angel) volunteered, but she’s busy with the PR firm and quite frankly, a little too delicate to help you into a car. You made the mistake of saying this exactly one time and because subject to a rant about how she’s “not weak, just PETITE FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!”

Roy had punctuated her argument with a couple “That’s fucking right, babe"s all while rolling his eyes behind her back. It made you giggle. 

The general consensus was that at any given reasonable hour (or unreasonable if you’re Richard or Bumbercatch) a Greyhound or coach would be able to get you where you’re needed. And today, that place is Nelson Road. 

“How often does Jamie come visit?” Jan Maas asks, straightforward as ever. 

“Um, never,” you reply. “We broke up, remember?”

“Right,” agrees Jan Maas. “We all know that, I just assumed you had gotten back together.”

You laugh. How absurd. “And why on earth would you assume that?”

“Because he talks about you all the time,” comes his prompt reply. 

Huh. That’s interesting. You haven’t received so much as a single emoji from Jamie, but hadn’t thought a thing of it. But this, this is strange. This does not fit into your idea of how broken up people act. 

“Weird,” you say. “Wonder what the fuck that’s about.”

Jan Maas shrugs and moves to lift you from the car. 

—

It’s weird to be at Nelson Road, number one because it’s been FOREVER, number two because you’re eye-level with all sorts of things you’d never noticed before (ahem, part of the wall Roy kicked that no one cared to patch up), and number three because the last time you were here, it was as Jamie Tartt’s girlfriend. 

Jan holds open the door as you roll in, ready to face whatever lies in wait. 

It turns out whatever is a very excited Ted and Beard as well as a neutral Roy who present you a coaching jacket and a whistle. 

“You’re coaching with us today because that little rat bastard Nate went to the dark side,” Beard says. 

You remark, “Tell us how you really feel,” earning a snort from Roy and a chuckle from Trent Crimm. 

“Oh yeah,” Ted says, “this is Trent. He’s writing a book.”

“Cool,” you say, “but you do know I know jack shit about coaching?”

Beard shrugs. “Neither do we. Worked out pretty well so far.” That earns another snort from Roy. 

“Right,” you say. “Well, I guess I’m up for anything.”

“You mean ‘down,’” says Ted. “Oh I’m sorry, is it too soon?”

“Never,” you reply. “It’s never too soon to make trauma-related puns and this world, it’s either laugh or cry. So fuck it, I’m going to laugh.”

“Fuck yes,” grunts Roy before turning on his heel to yell at the team to GET THE FUCK ON THE PITCH YOU LITTLE PRICKS!

—

You don’t do much except sit there and watch as the coaches yell and point and run drills. It’s a chore to remind yourself not to check out Jamie’s butt as he runs by so you start thinking not yours, not yours, like a mental mantra. 

He’s not looking at you so you won’t look at him and you’re sure it won’t be a problem because there are so many people to look at and talk to, except lunch rolls around (haha) and you sit at the head of a table and Jamie’s on the bench right next to you. So. There goes the no eye-contact plan. 

You take exactly two bites of your sandwich before thinking fuck this and pushing yourself back so you can roll away. You can just take the elevator to see Becca. 

You’ve made it a good way down the hall when you hear Jamie calling your name while saying, “Wait,” so you move a little faster. 

But it’s still new and you’re painfully reminded that arms are not legs so he catches you with ease. 

 “The fuck are you running away for?” he asks, and you want to point out that technically, you weren’t running. Metaphorically though, he’d be right. 

“I’m not running,” you reply. “I was just going to see Rebecca.”

“Bullshit,” he says. “I know you, and that was running. Is it because of me?”

“No,” you say, and you realize how much you’ve been looking up today. Your fucking neck needs a break so you rub it and look straight ahead, past Jamie at a life-size decal of O’Brien on the opposite wall. 

“Why would I be running away from you? You’re not- I’m the shitty ex in this situation. I’m the one who fucked things up, Jamie, so… you don’t have to like, pretend that it’s your problem. I actually think it would be better if you were just mad and avoided me instead of whatever the hell is currently happening.”

Jamie rubs his jaw. He should be exasperated, he should, but instead the gears in his mind are turning. A few words stick out to him and then it’s like the final puzzle piece has clicked into place. 

“Hang on,” he says slowly. “Hold the fuck up. Did you mess things up on purpose?”

The moment the words are out of his mouth he wants to take them back and apologize, because there’s no way they’re actually true, except you have a look on your face that can only be described as guilty. 

“Fuuckkk,” Jamie breathes out and you hurriedly interject, “It wasn’t intentional! At least, not at first. It started because I was irritable because I hurt a lot, and then I convinced myself that I was faking it so I got mad at myself for being a little liar. And then I couldn’t sleep because I hurt so bad and everything was making me uncomfortable so I started snapping at you. I noticed it pretty quick so I figured I’d get the pain checked out and sorted because I didn’t think pulled muscles were supposed to last this long. And it turned out that it wasn’t a pulled muscle but some of my disks were all weird, and then one day in between physical therapy and the chiropractor, I fell on my back and jostled everything wrong and it fucking popped.”

Jamie thinks he knows exactly when that was. He remembers you saying something about falling while walking to your car after work and him asking if you needed ice. It was at the tail end of things, and he’d taken your stiffness figuratively as opposed to literally. Like, you were acting all cold because you hated him, not because you couldn’t move. 

“So,” you continue, “I just leaned into it. I mean, Dr. Hadley was only one of my doctors, but she’s the one who told me I- you know, could end up like this. She said if things popped and it got into my spinal cord or fluid or whatever and they couldn’t get it out, it was only a matter of time before it messed everything up. They only way to stop it at that point would be to not move so either way, I end up stuck.” 

You half-sob, half-laugh. “I didn’t know how to tell you and I could tell you were already annoyed with me so I just decided to let it happen. You’re better off without me, anyway. I hate asking for help and I hate when people give me empathetic looks or what-fucking-ever, and I was going to have to ask you for a lot of help. You don’t even fucking have time for that, Jamie.”

Jamie is at a loss for words, and you’ve run out of things to say. 

You stare at each other in the hallway by the elevator, breathing heavily. You’ve both triggered each other’s fight-or-flight response, and it seems you’re both down for a fight.

“Right,” Jamie says finally, “ok, yeah, ok. You didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to have to deal with this?”

You nod. 

“Right,” he says again. “That’s fucked up.”

You don’t respond and he looks at you closely. “You know that’s fucked up, yeah?”

You shrug. 

“Jesus, babe.” Jamie runs his hands through his hair. He’s going to have to fix his headbands. “Alright,” he says yet again, “look. Dr. Sharon and me- we talk. And, you’re supposed to be able to talk to people about shit like this. Like, me playing football isn’t supposed to mean I don’t have time for the people I love. And if you’re feeling that way or if you’re hurting, you have to tell me so I don’t think you’re being all pissed off because you hate me. That’s the whole point of love, babe. You take care of each other’s shit.”

“Jamie, I can’t get places easily anymore. I can’t drive and I can’t go up steps. I will never be able to storm the pitch to kiss you or walk with you in Brazil. I get mad really easily because everything’s so fucking frustrating and I just want to punch something.” You shake your head. “You don’t deserve any of that. You need someone who can be there for you and isn’t a total pill to be around.”

“Are you fucking trying to push me away?” he asks.

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Obviously!”

“Well fucking don’t. You almost had me the first time, but good luck getting rid of me now.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“For fuck’s sake, just kiss,” groans Will, walking by with an armful of laundry. 

“Fuck off, William!” you both say in unison and then Jamie’s on one knee, eye-level with you and brushing a thumb across your chin. 

“Fucking hell, love,” he breathes. “You have to remember that you can talk to me, yeah? Just promise you’ll remember.”

You nod, unable to speak. 

“Good,” he says. “We’re giving this another go. And if you can’t kiss me on the pitch, might as well do it here, yeah?”

[l-starlight-l]

The love of a hero

Wash & Dry

Master list

Part one

A/N: I’ve pre written all of these so they’re coming out back to back to back. I hope y’all like these better than the old one

Description: you finally get to move into your new apartment complex and decide to do a load of laundry after unpacking. While roaming around you run into your very handsome neighbor twice.

Warnings: none really

Paring: Jason Todd x Reader

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:Reference:

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You had finished your first shift at Arkham Asylum around 6pm, which meant you had been there for twelve long hours. You wished you could just go to your new apartment and sleep forever but you couldn’t. You hailed a cab to take you to your new home. On the way there your sweet old landlady send you a warm welcome text telling you how to get into the building. You had never met Mrs Whelms but you knew she was going to be a kind landlady already. The city flew by as you watch out of the tinted window, it seemed gloomier than you remembered. It had been years since you’ve been to Gotham. Being raised in metropolis was very different from here, but you had friends who grew up in the city and they were happy people. You hadn’t seen these friends since you guys were young teenagers and of course they were all too busy to help you move in. So you were all on your own the first day in this big city.

When you finally reach your building it’s just as dreary as the city. You thanked the driver and made your way up to the top floor. All your stuff had been shipped before hand so it wouldn’t be such a hassle moving in. When you got to the top floor it was a slim hallway with five doors. Two on each wall and one at the end of the hallway. Your shoes creaked on the old wooden floor as you walked up to door 204. The key slipped into the lock and you began to turn. You got half way there but it wouldn’t budge. You rattled with it for a few minutes until a tall, dark haired man walked past you. He watched you struggle for a few moments and then walked over. “Do you need help?” He questioned.

Embarrassment filled your body when you jumped at the sound of his deep voice. Was this actually happening you thought, this has to be the worse first impression as a neighbor. “Oh, the lock isn’t working I think” you squeaked out. He smiles and walked over to you, taking the keys out of your hand. Carefully examining them for a moment and then walking over to the door to the right, sticking the keys in and unlocking it.

“Your apartment 206 not 204” he laughed and something clicked in your mind. His laugh sounded so familiar. But you didn’t dwell on this because you were so embarrassed, you thought about moving out right then. “Cranky, old, Mr. Scott lives in 204, you’re lucky he’s not home or you’d hear an earful about messing with his property” he added as You slowly walked over to him. You thanked him without looking him in the eyes. He laughed making the color in your face deepen, “you’re a funny girl” he said as he handed you the keys. “I live right across from you” he pointed to the door on the other side of the hallway, “Names Jason” he held out his hand waiting for you to shake it.

You shook his hand finally looking him in the eyes, you gave him your name and thanked him again. He took your breath away, he was the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. “Honest mistake, I’m sure you’ve had a stressful day” he said like he knew what you had gone through today, he winked down at you before turning to go to his apartment, “I’ll probably see you around. It was a pleasure meeting you neighbor” he then disappeared into his home.

You were relatively settled in, most of the boxes that scattered the floor this morning were unpacked and put away. Some old clothes that you hadn’t gotten a chance to wash before you left were sitting in a bag by the door. The apartment was nice and very spacious but it lacked a washing machine. Lucky for you there was a laundry mat on the first floor. Wanting to be productive you grabbed the bag and headed down stairs.

It was a decently nice laundry mat, new machines plus it was all free. You started a load, set a timer and went back up stairs to finish unpacking. You didn’t own a lot of stuff since black-gate had assigned furnished housing. You wanted to stay in Gotham and in this nice apartment for a good amount of time. Your first day at Arkham had went good, well better than you thought it would. This was a new chapter in your life, a better one. No one knew you in this city, this was your fresh start.

Your timer went off after about thirty minutes. When you got back down stairs there was still a little time before you needed to switch loads so you waited. Pulling out a book and sitting on the machine trying to relax. The washer slowed to a stop, meaning it was finally time to switch. Quickly you swapped them and reset your timer. You were planning on going back up stairs and making something to eat when your handsome neighbor walked through the door with an empty laundry basket on his hip. You both looked caught by surprise but he looked happy about it while you were mortified.

“Well hey there neighbor” he greeted you with a smirk, “look at you already doing laundry”. He set down his laundry basket and started unloading a dryer full of his clothes.

“I like to be on-top of my chores” you admit carefully watching him and debating whether or not to sneak away. His pile of clothes grew as he piled them onto the counter. “You have quite a mountain of clothes there” you teased.

He looked embarrassed as he answered, “I put off laundry day, it’s not my favorite thing to do”. He rubbed the back of his head as he looked at the big pile of clothes.

You laughed softly, “do you need some help concurring this monster of a pile?” You asked and immediately regretted because it was the dorkiest thing you could have said.

“I wouldn’t want to bother you, I’m sure you’re busy with unpacking and everything” he said shyly as he started to fold some of his clothes.

“Oh no I’m already unpacked” you said nonchalantly, he nods his head and moves over so there’s room next to him for you. You take that as a yes and start to help him. You enjoyed folding clothes so it was too much of a bother.

“So….” He said trying to break the awkward silence, “how are you liking Gotham?”.

You let out a breathy laugh, “it’s different then I remember but that’s not bad” you say with a forced smile

“You say that like you’re trying to convince yourself” he looks at you with a warm face, a comforting, kind face.

You let out a sigh and your whole body shifts, relaxes. “I don’t know” you start, “I like it here so far, and it’s only been one day, but it just feels so strange, so unfamiliar”. Tears prick your eyes as you take a deep breath.

He smiles down at you, his hands still. “I understand being in a new world can be difficult, if you ever need someone who knows their way around you can call me” he says handing you a paper he had just written his number on. You hesitated looking up into his bright eyes, taking the note and putting it into your pocket, you didn’t say anything but shook your head in gratitude. A timer when off and you started to unload the dryer full of your clothes. “I guess its my turn to help you” he laughs and starts to fold some of you clothes. Having someone in the city made you feel more comfortable, more safe. You had a good feeling about Gotham. Especially now that you were making friends.

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Word count: 1 332

Tag list: @mxtokko @princessbl0ss0m @atadoddinnit

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[invaderzia1]

sweaty online gamer bf scara? we finally meet irl? smut?!😙

I may have gone overboard but I’m having a lot of thoughts (also surprisingly little nsfw but I do have some coming I’m just having a tough time recently)

also modern au and sweaty gamer guy

okay but can you imagine, you’ve been talking to him for a long time online. you’ve been playing for so long that when you casually mentioned where you lived and realized y’all live close to each other it felt natural to meet up with him. sure, he’s a jerk online but he’s you’re friend too, so you wanted to give him a chance. putting in your cutest outfit and making sure you’re makeup looked good, you dashed out of your apartment to meet him at a cute cafe.

only to meet him and he’s dressed so casual and it doesn’t look like he’s showered in the past day or so. he barely even says hi to you either, just a small nod to acknowledge you before telling you you’re late. it’s awkward, he keeps checking his phone and showing you memes off of Twitter too. honestly, for as bad as it seems, you kind of enjoy being able to see his face in front of you. you start to pick up on small quirks of his. like how his face breaks out in a light pink flush every time you’re hand brushes up against his.

he keeps rattling off about the newest win he had in lol and how he’s the best player in the game. usually, people would walk out of the cafe after hearing how arrogantly he speaks, but you just sit and smile, listening intently. he’s honestly pretty cute too.

this becomes a weekly thing for you, meeting up at some cafe and hanging out in person. scara will groan about how you are taking away his precious time, but will never say no to you when you ask if he wants to meet up. he never tries to dress up for you, either. hell wear some already worn tee shirt and some old jeans at best, but something about it just works. this is seeing the real him.

and slowly it seems less like a hang out, more like a date. though, he would refuse to admit that. but when you reach across the table and hold his hand, he doesn’t pull away. he stutters through his sentence and blushes heavily, but he doesn’t try to pull away from your grasp.

when he finally invites you to his place, he ends up playing video games the entire time. claiming to show you how elite he is, but in actuality he’s way to flustered having you this close to him that he needs to distract himself. when he looks over his shoulder and sees you laying on his bed like you own it, his heart skips a beat. AND THEN, you start making fun of him for having a girl in his bed for the first time ever, and that he’s playing video games. honestly, he’s embarrassed but shoots a sarcastic remark back at you. but that doesn’t stop him from walking over and getting into bed next to your, asking if “you are happy yet”. what he doesn’t expect is for you to wrap your arms around him and nod yes. honestly he might think he took too many edibles last night and probably is in some sort of weed hallucination coma.

as he’s cuddled up to you, you realize two things, one is that he clearly hasn’t washed his sweatshirt in months (if not at any point since buying it) and two, try as he may to deny it, he’s enjoying having you pressed up against. you can tell immediately how much he enjoys having you right against him by the way his body betrays him. he almost like a cat in how he cuddles up against you, scolding you that he is wasting precious game time, yet his arms stay firmly wrapped around you with no intention to let go anytime soon.

he’s not exactly subtle with his touching (ahem, groping) either. at first you think maybe it was an accident, but by the fourth squeeze of your breast it’s pretty hard to deny what he’s doing. all you can do is giggle to yourself, causing him to roll his eyes and tell you off for being rude, not like he’s the one being a perv. you tell him if he wanted to touch he could have just asked, this is your sixth date. which makes him freeze as he realizes that these have been dates. then he gains his confidence to touch you more, rudely telling you how easy you must be to let him do this. you can only laugh at his over confidence and massive ego, but at least he finally has the courage to touch you now.

this unleashes a new side to him, now that you’ve opened that door he will always be touching you. any time he has you alone he is either grabbing at your chest or touching your ass. he’ll also have more courage to be more of a perv too. if he hasn’t seen you in a while, then he’ll text you for nudes. and he doesn’t ask nicely, will always try to brag that since he one his last round of lol he deserves it. if you ask for one back from him, he’ll scoff but send a poorly done dick pic that shows off his nasty gaming room. just give him some tips and you’ll be getting those videos of him smacking the tip on the camera and letting you hear his very soft moans. oh man, once he realizes you like his videos he will start sending more too, whenever he feels like it. so always watch out opening videos and snaps from him.

god just nasty gamer dude scara is so djxkkdkdsm

[gingerjunhan]

meet-cute with xdinary heroes

☆彡 Hi y’all :) hope you’re all doing well! Just a little heads up that my requests are open again! 🩷

word count: 1304 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff | cws: non-idol! heroes?, first introductions/ meetings (duh), student!Jiseok, swearing, chemistry (ew sorry), all caps, cringe w/ Seungmin (I’m so sorry), lmk if I missed anything else!!

goo gunil

you meet Gunil while you’re at work

okay let me set the scene:

you work in an ice cream shop

it’s the middle of summer

but for some reason, it’s an unusually slow day

you’re working at the cash register and this really cute guy shows up

since it’s summer he’s probably wearing a muscle shirt, so for lack of a better term, you’re looking respectfully 👁️👁️

he makes his way up to you and takes his order, cracking a joke along the way

he gets his order and then a little while later he comes back asking

“Do you guys have any napkins?”

you hand him a handful of napkins, his fingers brushing over yours as he takes them

you both blush at the contact as he leaves again

once again, a few minutes later, he walks past your counter again on his way out the door

he looks at you with a smile, telling you to have a nice day, as he drops some money and one of his used napkins in the tip jar next to your register

you look at it confused before pulling it out and unfolding it

scrawled on the napkin in ink it reads, “call me sometime? xx” followed by his number

he purposely tried to make the whole thing as mysterious as possible, so you’re pleasantly surprised by his goofy personality once you call him

kim jungsu

you and Jungsu met at a concert!

you had finally landed pit tickets to see your favorite band, and you were ecstatic

you had even gone as far as to make bracelets to trade

as the people gathered their way into the pit, you couldn’t help but take note of the cute stranger next to you

you snuck a glance at him and noticed the bracelets he was wearing as well, so you decided to take a chance

“Hey! I like your bracelets! Wanna trade?”

he turned to you, looking down at you and smiling

you both took note of the blush on the others’ cheeks, but you didn’t think anything of it

you exchanged bracelets and got to chatting

you discussed the band and your favorite songs

the conversation flowed very naturally and soon enough, the show was starting

everybody was dancing and singing

you accidentally kept bumping shoulders with the cute guy next to you, and you both would be quick to apologize

soon there was no need for an apology

you would bump into one another

maybe on accident or on purpose- who's to say?

and the other would just turn to you and smile

at the end of the show, he would ask you if you wanted someone to walk with you to your car, and you agreed

once you got back to your car, he asked for your number, and the rest is history

kwak jiseok

y’all met in a library let’s be so fr

science boy Jiseok LIVES in the library

you’ve seen him around before but you’ve never spoken to him

you’re in the library one day and you cannot get the printers to work!

you’ve tried to print your paper off of every damn printer you could, and it was no luck

you huffed, saving your work and shutting off your computer

as you turn to leave, you accidentally bump into someone

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

Your whispered apology was received by none other than Jiseok

“It’s okay! You’re (Y/N), right? I think we have our chem lab together?”

you let out a sigh of relief

“Oh my god, I cannot get this lab report to print!”

he laughs knowingly and instantly offers to help

you open up your computer again, and Jiseok takes a look at what the problem might be

quickly, he identifies the issue, and your lab report finally gets printed

you happily pick up your papers, putting them into your bag

“Thank you so much! How could I ever repay you?”

although you said it in a somewhat joking tone, Jiseok sees this as an opportunity

“You could let me take you out sometime.”

needless to say, the two of you quickly became lab partners after this

oh seungmin

shopping mall, duh

bear with me though bc y’all are not meeting in a clothing store

it’s a GameStop

you’re looking over what deals the store might have, wondering to yourself how they’re staying in business

when you suddenly see the game you want

you make your way towards it, reaching out for it

and you see a hand reaching over the same way

you both brush knuckles, letting out a slight laugh and apology

you turn to the stranger, and there he is

he’s looking as you now too, equally as flustered

“I’m sorry, here, you can take it.”

that’s when you notice there’s only one copy left

you instantly start insisting that he takes the game

he got there first after all!

he’s also so gorgeous that you don’t think you could say no to him in that moment

“No, really, it’s okay,” he insists. “I’m buying it for a friend’s birthday. I can just order it online and make them wait.”

after triple checking that he’s sure you can take it, you thank him and make your way to the register

after you check out, he catches your attention again

“Are there any two-player games you’d recommend? I would love to try one out with you sometime.”

han hyeongjun

Hyeongjun was minding his own business

perusing the manga section of a bookstore

when he happened to look over and see you a few shelves away

he doesn’t know what came over him but he just kinda…

stared at you?

you clearly noticed and felt his gaze, so you turned to look at him as well

“Can I help you?”

you tried your hardest to sound polite although it was a little strange

quick, Hyeongjun, do something!

“I’m sorry, but do you mind giving me a recommendation? I’m looking for something new to read.”

the smile that took over your face was priceless

“Yes! Oh my gosh, I just finished this series, and…”

Hyeongjun had no clue what you were saying because he was too distracted by how excited you were and how endearing he found it

absentmindedly, he picked up the first copy of the series and clutched it tightly

“You’ll have to let me know what you think of it!” You said excitedly. “Can I get your number?”

lee jooyeon

it was not the most…

graceful meeting

let’s start that way

he was walking down the sidewalk, headphones on, not a care in the world

you, on the other hand, were rushing to an appointment

in your busied haze, you weren’t really watching where you were going- too busy fumbling with your phone and trying to check the time

and BAM

you’re colliding into the chest of a stranger, dropping your phone to the ground

“Oh- my bad!”

you quickly apologized before you continued walking

he looked at you as you began to rush off again, and then he noticed your phone on the ground

“Hey!”

he shouted after you, but you didn’t stop walking

so naturally he started to chase after you

“Excuse me! Excuse me!”

once he had caught up to you, you were outside of your destination

“Excuse me! You dropped your phone!”

you turned and saw him jogging down the street, and you began patting your pockets, feeling that they were in fact empty

you finally got a good look at one another as he handed your phone back to you

“Oh my god,” you said breathlessly. “Thank you so much!”

you try to pay him for his good deed- just a few dollars- and he refuses to take your money

so you ask for his phone instead

“Give me your number and we’ll call it even.”

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

[fourstarsoutofnine]

May I request some Hyrule fluff where he accidentally confessed to someone in the chain about his raging crush on the reader and then that someone told the reader? Hyrule's all sad abt it and wants to disappear bc he thinks "what business would they want with a loser like me?" so reader has to reassure him that's not the case at all

A/n:if there’s one thing I’m an advocate for, it’s making Rulie feel better about himself. Y’all know my favs are Rulie, four and legend🩷I wrote this in one go while taking breaks to slap box my cat, he kept biting me.

Warnings:only the abuse of italics used for emphasis. When you’re reading, read the italicized words like you’re stressing it. Y’all know that tho ofc. Also, this ain’t proofread

Reassurance.

Hyrule x Reader

The traveler is an incredible person all around. Kind, fun, adventurous, thoughtful—and don’t even get me started on what an incredible hero he is… but he doesn’t see it that way. Imposter syndrome is one heck of a mindset, and boy is it something he’s got.. imposter syndrome is something that makes you downplay your abilities and accomplishments, and if you ever asked the traveler if he lived up to the hero name, or his friends’ heroic abilities—or even the spirit of courage he’d tell you he didn’t. He’d negate the idea and change the subject before you even had the chance to refute him on it. Such was the exact reason he hadn’t confessed to a soul his feelings for you—especially not to you. You were incredible in his eyes, a sight to behold and an even bigger honor to be friends with. Although, he figured next to someone like the captain, the champion or even the smith he figured he couldn’t compete. In his mind he wasn’t even in the competition, let alone a contender in this race. He was just a traveler, someone who’s heroics were that of a happenstance. Right place right time kind of thing. Though, this longing and hearing for you was making him sick, keeping it to himself, he felt like a grocery bag with too many heavy items in it—ready to break and spill out all the contents. The contents, of course, being the way he thought of you, the dreams he had at night of laying by you watching the stars and making up your own constellations, whispering and giggling at what one another said. He’d kill and die for you, if only for a fraction of your time in return. He had to tell someone.

And oh, poor unsuspecting Sky. Sweet thing, he only wanted to help.

“Sky can i talk to you?” The traveler asked as he walked up to the hero, who was whittling down some wood to make into a little figurine for the ever bored sailor, who’d spent far too long at camp without something to do(the vet was going to strangle him had someone not suggested the boy go out and find a lake to play in while sky made a toy for him).

Sky looked up with a soft smile and baby blues the traveler was sure you’d prefer to his own dark brown eyes; they didn’t shine like sky’s did. “Sure! What’s up?” He sat down his project(which would be much to the vet’s dismay when the sailor returned and it wasn’t finished) to give the traveler his full attention.

“I have a confession to make. It’s nothing bad but-…..actually yes it is.” He started, already feeling defeated as his shoulders slumped, not wanting to admit it but also wanting to get it off his chest at the very same time. “I’m afraid I’ve caught feelings for y/n—which normally wouldn’t be a problem—only, they’re y/n, and I’m unfortunately nobody they’d like..”

“Are you kidding??? Of course they like you!!! They’d be thrilled to know!!!” Sky got up and the traveler panicked.

“Sky, where are you going—“

“To tell y/n! It’s nonsense you think they won’t like you! Like I said they’ll be thrilled!”

“Sky, no, please that—please don’t…” he stopped following the young man, looking like a sad wet cat with how defeated he felt. He was sure this was the end of your friendship. Farore, strike him down now. It’s over for him. He could’ve swore he saw the events of his life flash before his eyes as he watched Sky make his way over to you. He said something the traveler couldn’t hear, but he assumed it was the song of his death March. His eulogy. ‘There lies Link, our dear sweet traveler, who despite everything he went through, who saved his Hyrule from true doom and despair, despite the efforts of everything that tried to stop him from doing so, died of a broken heart—‘

In his lamenting, you had made your way over to him with soft eyes and the saddest smile. “—Link.” Your voice broke through his thoughts and you were glad it had finally not fallen on deaf ears. His eyes widened when he noticed you standing in front of him and he suddenly felt his breakfast pushing at the top of his throat, wanting to escape the twisting and turning of the nervous butterflies the rushed the home it had made in his stomach.

“Hi.” You said exasperatedly in a laugh. “What’s this about you saying you’re ‘nobody I’d like’? Of course I like you?”

“But why?” He finally broke. “Why would you? I’m not—I’m not a real hero—and I’m not strong like the rancher or skilled and talented like the smith or suave like the captain and Hylia knows I can’t cook like the champion, and—“

You put a hand on his cheek and kissed him. His words died in his throat and he melted, every bit of tension, every single thought—it all melted away the moment your lips touched his. You pulled away with a smile, wiping away the tear caught on the edge of his eyelashes.

“You don’t have to be. Link I don’t care if you’re not strong or skilled and talented or suave or can cook—I wouldn’t care if you were. I wouldn’t even care if you weren’t a hero—because that’s not why I like you. Din—I love you, Link. I love you because you’re sweet, and thoughtful, and caring and you put yourself before others—granted it’s sometimes—heck, oftentimes to your own detriment but regardless! You’re amazing, and I love you…”

The traveler couldn’t speak. He was at a total loss for words.

“…Link..?”

“…thank you…” he pulled you into a tight hug and you smiled sadly, hugging him back.

“Of course…” you said and let him take his time and break away on his own. Once he did, you smiled sadly again as you watched him wipe his tears.

“So-…are-… are we…”

“Yes. We are.” You said definitively and smiled when he lit up. He pulled you in again and gave you a kiss that was broken shortly after when the veteran yelled at the sailor for following him around and asking him questions about his magical items. You then looked over to see sky, frantically whittling down the toy that was meant to be finished by the time the boy returned to camp.

“..whoops.” The traveler laughed nervously. “..we’re gonna not tell the vet I pulled sky away from his work… he’s not the best to be around when he’s mad…” he said and you covered your mouth to keep you from laughing. Though, even if the vet did come to drag your boyfriend away and tell him off, the both of you were sure it wouldn’t ruin your day. Not after the moment you two shared.

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part twenty

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

joel plans something amazing for you.

a/n: i’m late I know and I used the same joel pic in the last moodboard but there’s only so much pre-show plot joel I can get my hands on and fuck he just looks so good??? I had a lot of fuckin fun writing this, can’t wait to see what y’all think 🤍

word count: 7k

warnings: y’all know the drill by now, and nothing super heavy or explicit in this part.

✨@friskito-library for updates on new works/chapters✨

3 years later - 2013

“Wait, wait, wait.” Frank’s waving his hands, his eyes squeezed shut. “Tell me again. You what?”

You huff a laugh, hands wrapped around the cup of coffee resting on your thigh. It’s the good shit, from the tin that Frank hides even from Bill. You’re pretty sure he saves it only for your visits, namely ones like these where you two get to relax in the house, chatting away while Bill and Joel are off somewhere in town, fixing something or adjusting some measurement. You learned quickly to keep your distance when the two of them got to talking construction, opting to hide with Frank while your other halves did their thing.

“You know this,” you repeat, but reach into your collar, pulling at the chain around your neck until your ring pops out from your shirt. “It was one of the first things I ever told you, when we first met.”

“Bullshit,” Frank says, shaking his head. He crosses his arm over his chest, leaning back in his chair. “I would remember.”

“How old are you again?” you quip, lifting your coffee to your lips. “Maybe your memory’s going, old man.”

Frank’s jaw drops, and he reaches forward, batting at your hanging boot. “You little shit.”

You laugh, and he laughs with you.

“Okay, but really. Tell me again.”

It’s been a long three years.

Thankfully, things have stayed relatively the same in the QZ, and you’ve remastered the art of sneaking out. Joel is a magnet, glued to your side every time you set foot outside the walls, and while Tess has accompanied you more than once on your trips to Lincoln, she’s a little more content to stay in the QZ than before, and you can’t blame her.

Robin moved in with Tess, and has quickly become part of your little family. However, at Tess’s insistence, she knows nothing about your smuggling operation. As far as she knows, the three of you just take whatever jobs you can get from FEDRA, Joel keeping up his handyman position in your building, you keeping up appearances in the radio room.

You’ve curated your own little collection of radios. There’s the main one, still in your tiny room at Abe’s, but the radio in your apartment now plays the coded songs from Bill and Frank; sixties if there’s nothing new, seventies when you’re due for a visit, and eighties if there’s trouble. So far, there’s been no eighties, and you’re grateful. You’ve become pretty attached to the two older gentlemen living in the little town of Lincoln, and these days, Frank rivals Tess for the title of your closest confidant. 

You’ve got a little handheld radio too, for the off-chance you’re out of Boston for an extended period of time, and not heading for Lincoln. Bill had supplied it after your fifth visit, handing it to you as you packed up your bag in the dining room.

“Here,” he said quietly, and you nearly jumped out of your skin, not hearing him approach. “This works on the same frequencies we’ve been communicating on. If you’re ever out of Boston, take it with you, and it’ll still play Frank’s songs.”

You’d stared at the bearded man for a long time, your hand slowly reaching out to take the device. “Thanks, Bill.”

He gave you a curt nod. “You’re welcome.”

You still can’t get a read on the guy, even three years later. Frank insists that you’re his favourite of your group, that he’s got a soft spot for you specifically, but is still wary of Joel. Though you know every conversation Joel and Bill have that revolves around construction and protection gets Joel an inch closer to Bill’s good side.

Since Tommy left, Joel has changed in some ways, stayed exactly the same in others. The day after your first visit to Lincoln, he was home early. Too early. Early enough that you hadn’t even really gotten out of bed yet when he was barging through the door, slamming it shut behind him. It made you flinch, lurching to your feet and calling his name.

He had his hands pressed to the door, his shoulders hunched, head hung between them. You crossed the apartment quickly, laid your hand in the middle of his back, and Joel’s entire body quaked beneath your touch.

“Baby, what happened?” you asked, your worry evident in your tone. “Where were you?”

“Tommy’s gone,” he murmured, and his voice snapped on his little brother’s name. “Fuckin’ Fireflies shipped him off to their base in Minneapolis. He’s gone, Liv. He left us.” Joel pushed off the door, turned slowly towards you, and the sadness in his face made your heart ache. “He left me.”

“Oh, Joel.”

Since that day, he’s become more stoic. More brutal, in ways. Smuggling has become a more common occupation in the QZ, and Joel’s been quick to let the competition know just who you are, and that you were here first. Robert — the head of a rival group with a penchant for taking your drops before you have the chance to reach them — has taken to calling Joel the attack dog. “And your wife’s the one holdin’ the leash,” Robert joked once. Joel gave you a sideways look, and you just nodded. He broke the fucker’s nose.

You’ve crossed paths with Marlene on more than one occasion since Joel’s encounter with her when Tommy first left. Unfortunately. You instantly didn’t like her, but the feeling seemed to be mutual. Every time she looked at you, you felt like you were walking on eggshells, and your mind always begged the question: did Tommy tell her you’re immune? She’s never come out and said it, never asked or alluded to it, but you can’t shake the feeling, the worry, the anxiety.

The radio info she gave Joel wasn’t bullshit, at least. You gave it a few days, like she said, and then found the frequency, called out to the Minneapolis base. The voice that first answered was one you didn’t recognize, but you asked for Tommy specifically, name-dropped Marlene — who you’d yet to meet, at that point — and a moment later, your brother-in-law’s voice floated through the headset.

“Hey, Liv.”

“You’re alive.”

Tommy chuckled. “Somethin’ like that. Guess you talked to Marlene, huh?”

“Joel did,” you answered. “I haven’t had the pleasure yet.”

“She’s a good person,” Tommy replied, and you stifled the urge to roll your eyes. “Lots of good people out here, too.”

“You know, I’ve never been to Minnesota,” you said, tapping your fingers against the radio table. “But I bet it’s not as nice as Boston.”

“Liv—”

“He wanted to apologize, Tommy,” you spat out, pressing your palm to your forehead. “When we got back from that run, the day before you left. He said he was gonna find you, and he was gonna fix it.”

The radio crackled with silence for a moment before, “Well, it’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy. Can’t you just—”

“I’ll check in, when I can,” he said, ignoring you, cutting you off. “Let you know I’m alive, but I won’t…I won’t talk to Joel, all right? Not yet. I’ll leave messages with Abe, if I can’t get ahold of you, but I just…I don’t wanna talk to Joel. Okay?”

His tone told you there was no negotiating. Defeated, you leaned back in the chair, tugging on the headset cord. “Okay.”

Tommy’s refusal to speak to his brother didn’t exactly help Joel’s mood. In fact, he nearly put his boot through the fucking wall, reached for one of the stashed bottles of whiskey. When you tried to talk about it, all you got was, “Well, I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk to him either.”

Weeks passed, and neither of them would relent. You begged Tommy on multiple occasions, tried to talk Joel into coming with you to Abe’s, but they’re both stubborn asses. Joel even tried to use the same tactic he had before Tommy left Boston — literally fucking you into submission — but you didn’t let him get as far this time. In fact, you threatened to hold out on him completely. 

Easier said than done, especially when he had his face in your throat, nipping that spot under your jaw that turned you into putty. “I know all your little places, Liv,” he mumbled into your skin, and you groaned. “I know you what gets you goin’. Always have.”

“So help me, Joel, I will go stay with Tess,” you threw back, and he’d pulled back almost instantly, something between shock and fear in his eyes. Something prickled in your chest, but you pushed past it. “You can’t bury your problems, baby. No matter how good it feels.”

He stared at you for a long moment, eyes searching yours, his lips softly parted. He swallowed so thickly you saw his throat bob, and then he leaned down slow, the tip of his nose just brushing yours. It was a soft kiss, softer than you were expecting, one hand adjusting to cup the back of your head. It wasn’t hungry, but gentle. An I love you pressed against your mouth.

“Tomorrow,” Joel murmured. “I’ll go with you. I’ll talk to him. I’ll try.” Something flashed in his eyes, that streak of Miller stubbornness returning. “But if he won’t talk to me, there’s nothin’ I can do.”

And those fuckers talked for hours.

There was a smug sense of accomplishment that came with watching Joel sitting at that tiny table, the headset pushing his hair in every direction, hunched over the microphone. You busied yourself with your notebook, half listening to their conversation. Joel grabbed you when you wandered close, hauled you into his lap as he said goodbye to his brother.

Once the radio was quiet, he yanked the headset off, dove his hand into your hair, and pulled your mouth down to his. You squeaked in surprise, letting your arms drape around his neck, one hand sneaking down the back of his collar. His palm cupped your jaw, kissing you soundly, and when he pulled back after a moment, his eyes were shining.

“Thank you.”

It’s continued, ever since you got them both to pull their heads out of their asses. Joel still has his days where he’s more mad at Tommy for leaving than anything else, occasions where he grumbles at you to just tell his brother he says hello when you tell him you’re heading for the radio. You make up excuses, tell Tommy that Joel’s working when he doesn’t come with you, and Tommy seems to believe it, for the most part. Your chats are scheduled, Tommy letting you know the next date and time he’ll check in before you say your goodbyes, and he’s stuck to every one since.

Neither you or Joel has asked what he’s doing in Minneapolis, why Marlene sent him, what the Fireflies have planned for Minnesota. You honestly don’t know if you want to know.

Visits to Lincoln have become a staple, and you’re grateful as hell. Twice a month, if you can manage it — most of the time, you visit even if the song that comes through on the radio is sixties (nothing new). You feel restless in the QZ, the imposing walls and the reminders of everything weighing on you more and more with every passing year.

You made a good call, with Frank. He’s exactly what you needed, exactly when you needed a friend like him.

A friend.

That’s what we are. Friends.

You sip your coffee as Frank gets up, heading towards the fridge. You’re perched on the kitchen counter, one boot swinging beneath you, cup resting on your leg. “I definitely told you we were married,” you say, lifting your brow as he opens the fridge, bending to fish something out.

“You definitely did not,” he replies, and as he straightens, your mouth drops open at the big bowl of strawberries in his hands. “I made good use of those seeds we traded for.”

You nearly fall over as he holds it towards you, letting you pick. The fruit is cold between your fingers, and when you sink your teeth into the strawberry, you feel like you could burst into tears. “Oh my god.”

“I know,” Frank replies, and sits back down at the small kitchen table, the strawberries between you. “Eat as many as you like; they’re growing like weeds out back.” His hand smacks against the table. “But I am telling you, Olivia, you never told me you and Joel were married!”

You nearly choke on the berry, wiping juice from the corner of your mouth with your thumb as you swallow it down. “Don’t you full name me,” you say with a laugh, knowing he’s joking. “Not like it was a real wedding or anything. We nearly died.”

Frank balks. “Pardon? No, you definitely never told me this.”

Reaching for another strawberry, you recount the story. Joel proposing, the FEDRA office, the car bombs, the Fireflies. How shaken you were. You can see the understanding on Frank’s face; you’ve told him about your time in Boston before Joel too, what happened on Outbreak Day, the days and weeks and months that followed.

You can feel your voice quaking slightly as you finish the tale, and Frank scoots his chair closer, reaching out and putting a hand on your leg. “I’m sorry, Liv.”

“Don’t be,” you say, staring down into your coffee cup, shaking your head. “We’re both alive.”

“But you never got the dress?” Frank asks, and you try to ignore the pang in your chest. “The first dance?”

“I have the ring,” you say, like it’s a consolation. “I’ve been trying to find one for Joel for forever, but how fucking morbid is that? Wearing some dead guy’s wedding ring? And Joel said the same thing, when he proposed, that it wasn’t the same, no big white dress, and I told him I didn’t care. I don’t care. If things were normal, I would have dragged his ass to Vegas the first chance I got. But…in retrospect, it just would have been nice to have my family there, say vows, something like that. Instead of some FEDRA thug telling me to sign on the dotted line.”

“I get it,” Frank says, squeezing your leg. “It’s okay, you know, to wish it was different. I think we try to push that away, to just accept the world like it is now, but it’s okay to miss the way things were. Tears have crawled up the back of your throat, and there’s a noise from outside, Bill calling Frank’s name.  There’s no panic in it, and Frank leans to glance out the window. “I’ll be right back. Have some more coffee.”

You refill your cup, steal another few strawberries. You give it a few minutes, and when Frank doesn’t come back, you slide off the counter, coffee in hand, and wander the house. You’ve seen it a bunch of times, at this point. Frank even tried to teach you piano, and you both laughed until your sides hurt at how awful you were at it.

Your boots seem to move of their own accord, walking down the main hall towards the front door. The walls are lined with picture frames, a few on the tables near the foyer, and your eyes drag over each photo. There are lots of old photos, people you assume to be Bill’s family. Some look as old as the first World War, and you pick up one frame, confirming your suspicions when you see the back of the frame reads 1917.

A photo in the middle of the wall catches your eye. A man and a woman, standing outside a church. They both have stoic smiles on their faces, and the man looks so strikingly similar to Bill that you realize it must be his parents. His mother wears a white dress, a veil in her hair, gloves with little pearls around the wrist. His father wears a dark suit, a carnation flower pinned to his lapel, his hair neatly combed. His mother holds a small bouquet of flowers in her hand, her arm slipped through her new husband’s. 

You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. Fuck, how different things could have been…

What if you had never left Austin? You would have had two whole years of normalcy with Joel, in theory. You could have gotten to know Sarah better, you could have—

You cut the thought off abruptly, but every what if it branches into makes your chest ache. What if you had moved in? What if you had gotten married? What if you’d had a baby, made Sarah a big sister? What if…

The sound of the front door makes you flinch, and you hiss as coffee spills over the edge of your mug, hot liquid on your hand. “Fuck!”

“Oh, shit, hold on, baby,” Joel says, and disappears into the kitchen, reappearing at the other end of the hallway a moment later with a towel. He takes the cup from you, wiping the droplets from it before he’s reaching for your wrist, inspecting your hand. “You okay?”

You nod a little too enthusiastically, chewing at your lip. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, but hands you your coffee. “You about ready to go? Should start headin’ back soon.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

+

A month later, and the first eighties song plays over the radio. You recognize it instantly; Every Little Thing She Does is Magic. Joel grabs the book Frank had supplied, confirms it’s 1981, and your heart drops into your toes.

“Joel, we have to go,” you say, your heart leaping into your throat, instantly looking around the apartment. Where’s your bag, where’s your bat, where’s—

Someone knocks at the door, and you sigh with relief when you see Tess on the other side. “Oh, thank god. We have to go.”

She squints at you. “What?”

You throw your hand in the direction of the radio, still playing The Police. “Eighties. Trouble.”

“Fuck,” she grits, and you just nod.

The entire trip has you on edge. Every time you have to stop for a moment, or hear the warning scream of an Infected, your toes are curling in your boots, fingers tapping against the handle of the bat. You’re terrified to think what you might find in Lincoln.

Joel keeps close to your side, his hand resting at the top of your spine as you walk. “It’ll be okay, baby,” he tells you, and you want to believe him, you really do, but the world hasn’t given you much reason to hope for the best.

When you take that final turn and Lincoln comes into view, you hold your breath. Everything looks the same, nothing’s on fire, you don’t see anybody bleeding in the street. As you approach the gate, your stomach is in knots.

And then Frank appears at end of the sidewalk, beaming at you as you approach, and you’re officially confused. “You’re here!” he calls, arms spread wide as he reaches the gate, punches in the code, letting the three of you inside. Tess closes the gate behind her once you’re all through, and just as you’re about to ask what the fuck is going on, Joel grabs your face, giving you a soft kiss before he’s disappearing, following Tess in the direction of the wine shop.

Frank gives you an innocent smile. “Do you trust me?”

“I did,” you say, your heart still stuttering as he puts his arm around your shoulders and starts to lead you away from the gate. “You played eighties! I thought something awful happened, you fuck!”

He laughs. “A cruel trick, I know,” he says, clucking his tongue. “But it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

“What are you—”

“Close your eyes.”

“Wha—”

“Just do it, Liv.”

With a heavy sigh, you just shake your head, lifting your hands and covering your eyes with them. “Joel and Tess are in on this too?”

“They are,” Frank answers, both hands gripping your shoulders, steering you in the direction he wants you to go. “It’s a good surprise, I swear to you. Just trust me.”

“You ever play eighties again, Frank, I will keep my ass in Boston.”

“Sure, you will.”

You huff, half-heartedly angry, but let him continue to lead you. You’re instantly turned around, no idea where Frank is leading you, and it’s not until you come to a stop and he releases you, tells you to open your eyes, and you see you’re standing in front of the clothing boutique.

“Inside!” Frank declares, yanking open the door. “Let’s go!”

He pulls the door shut as soon as you’re inside, the tinkling bells overhead ringing and echoing through the shop. You slide your hands into the back pockets of your jeans, looking around. “You really not gonna tell me what’s going on?” you ask as Frank brushes past you, heading towards the back of the boutique.

“Where’s the fun in that? C’mon!”

You’re less and less annoyed with every step. Frank tends to have that effect, and even though you’re still reeling from every awful thought you’d had on the trek from Boston to Lincoln, the smile he gives you as he comes to a stop in front of one of the mirrors at the back earns your forgiveness. There’s something in front of the mirror, what you assume to be a mannequin, draped with a dark sheet.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this,” he says, letting his hand skim over the fabric, “but my mother was a seamstress. She taught me a thing or two, and it’s surprisingly come in handy now, fixing Bill’s favourite shirts and what have you.” Your brow pinches with confusion, but Frank keeps talking. “And I know you’re mad, that we rang the alarm when there wasn’t a need, but I mean it, you just have to trust me, and this will be amazing.”

With a flourish, he pulls the sheet away, and your jaw drops.

It’s a dress. A white dress, made of silky-looking material. Floor-length, short sleeves, and flowers embroidered into the fabric everywhere you look. Pearly buttons line the side, and you can see it’s more like a satin slip underneath with the more filmy overlay that’s embroidered.

It’s a dress.

A wedding dress.

You clap your hand over your mouth, tears instantly filling your eyes. Is this…? What…?

“Joel?” is all you manage to squeak out, and Frank just nods.

“It was mostly his idea,” Frank admits with a shrug. You take a step closer to the dress, almost scared to touch it, worried there’s dirt or something on your hands that will stain the fabric. “When you were here about a month ago, he brought it up to Bill. He agreed, and I helped with the finer details.”

“Details?”

“The dress,” he says, jutting his chin towards the mannequin, “and a few other things. This is only the first part, Liv.”

The tears are in full force now, and Frank makes a little noise, coming to stand beside you, putting his arm around your shoulders. You drop your head against his shoulder and he lays his on top of yours. “You made this?” you ask, your voice quiet, swiping at the tears under your lashes before pointing to the dress. It’s literally so beautiful you could cry. You are crying.

“Hah, not exactly,” Frank replies, rubbing your shoulder. “I found it in the back of the shop. If I tried to make it myself, it’d probably end up looking more like Frankenstein’s monster than a wedding dress. But, put it on, we’ll see how it fits, and if you need any alterations, I’m your man.”

You feel like you’re in a dream, as he carefully pulls the dress off the mannequin. You take it with careful hands, heading for one of the dressing rooms and closing the door behind you. Laying the dress gently on the bench inside, you toe off your boots, shimmy out of your jeans, unbutton your shirt. Then you pause, frozen in place, staring at the dress.

It’s been more than a few minutes, you realize after a moment, and Frank calls your name. “You okay? Need any help?”

“I’m good,” you call back. In truth, you’re staring at yourself in the mirror. More specifically, the scar on your side. The bite. Frank calls your name again, and you cover it with your hand, pulse thumping through the mark. “I just need a sec.”

“Okay,” he replies, clearly unconvinced, but then the thought crosses your mind that if he tries to help, he’ll see the scar, and everything they’ve planned will go to shit.

Clearing your throat, you reach for the dress.

It fits like a fucking glove.

Almost sheepishly, you step out of the dressing room, and Frank gasps when you do, a giddy laugh reaching your ears as you feel them go hot. “Liv, you look beautiful.” He reaches for your hand. “I mean, you are beautiful, but oh, it’s perfect.” Before you can say anything, he all but pushes you back into the dressing room. “Change back, we have to go back to the house to get you ready.”

An hour later, and you’re standing in the spare bedroom of the house. The dress is laid out on the bed, your hair is freshly washed, and you feel so clean you almost want a nap. Frank had left some lavender-scented soap in the shower, and you can’t stop smelling your skin.

A knock at the door almost makes you flinch, and you call that it’s open. Tess steps through a moment later, and your breath catches at her dark red dress, her hair tucked behind her ear, a flower pinned with it. You both just start to giggle as she walks over to where you’re standing in front of the mirror. She stops behind you, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders, and you cover one with your own.

“Are you mad?”

“Mad?” you scoff, still laughing. “I should be, but I’m not.” You chew at your lip. “We’re having a wedding?”

She meets your eyes in the mirror, leaning her head against yours. “You’re having a wedding.”

It feels almost like you expect it would have, if the outbreak had never happened. Getting ready, laughing with one of your best friends. There’s no curling iron, but Tess puts little braids in your hair, flowers like the one behind her ear forming a crown on top of your hair. She gives you a tube of mascara and a lipstick, jokes with you that they’re probably well expired, but they’ll do the trick. “What’s life without a little risk?”

Frank appears at some point — looking well-put together in a dress shirt and jacket, his hair neatly combed — and offers you a little bouquet of daisies from the garden. Tess jokes that you should carry the bat instead, and you all laugh.

And then you’re ready. 

“We’ll be waiting out back,” Frank says, and both he and Tess peck your cheeks before they’re gone.

It’s time.

You give yourself a few minutes, wait until you can’t hear your friends’ voices anymore, until it’s just you in the house. You go to walk out of the bedroom, you really do, but you find you can’t do it. You sink onto the edge of the bed, curling your hands into the fabric of the bedspread, forcing yourself not to cry.

It almost feels like you thought it would have, but there’s a glaring difference.

You only ever let yourself imagine this once, with Joel. After you left Austin, when you were back visiting for the Fourth of July. You let yourself think about what would happen, if you never went back to Boston. You let your fantasies run a little wild.

Anna would have been your maid of honour, Sarah would have been the flower girl. Your mother would have cried and your dad would have walked you down the aisle. You would have said your vows in the same church your grandparents had been married in.

You don’t know what’s waiting for you outside, and you have no doubt it’s wonderful and beautiful and far more than you deserve.

But…Anna. Sarah. Your parents.

You hear the door creak open downstairs, hear someone’s feet on the stairs. You’re expecting Frank, maybe even Joel.

You’re not expecting Bill. Same as Frank, he’s combed his hair, tucked it behind his ears, and while he doesn’t have a jacket, his button-up is tucked into his pants. “Olivia?” 

He’s the only one who’s exclusively called you by your full name since…well, since your dad. With him, it was either honey or Olivia, no in-between. And while you’re pretty sure Bill didn’t say your name once on your first visit to Lincoln, he’s greeted you with a curt mumble of your name each time since.

“I’m coming,” you say, starting to get up, fanning your wet eyes. “I just needed a second.”

Bill pauses in the doorway, staring at you. “It’s okay, you know, if you need another one.”

You sink back down, feeling your chest go tight. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Bill tells you, and slowly, he steps into the room, walking towards the bed and sinking down beside you. “Today is about you, after all.”

You swipe at your cheek. “I’m surprised you agreed to this,” you say, and Bill lets out a little chuckle. “Not the best resource management.”

“Y’know, you say something to Frank once and he never lets you forget it,” he grumbles, shaking his head, but there’s a rare smile on his face. “It was Joel’s idea, I’m sure Frank told you.” You nod. “And I…I’ve had a soft spot for you, Olivia, since you two first showed up here. And it took me a while, but I realized, it’s because you remind me of Frank, in a way. You’re both…” He squints, waving his hand in the air.

“Feisty?”

“Feisty,” he agrees, “and headstrong, and loyal. And while I might not like him very much, I know Joel’s done right by you. He’s a good man, and he loves you, so when he asked for my help with this, I said yes.”

Your breath shakes a little as you sigh, leaning over until your head is resting on Bill’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“I know, but I’m still grateful. I never could have imagined…” You trail off, feeling the tears crawling back up again, and Bill puts his arm around your shoulders slowly. “I just, I always thought that when I got married, my family would be there, that my dad would walk me down the aisle, and I just…” You shake your head, holding your breath and trying to force the tears down.

“I know it’s not much of a consolation,” Bill says quietly, and slowly gets up, offering you his hand, “but I’d be honoured to walk you down.”

+

It’s not what Joel had envisioned, when the idea had first come to him. At this point, he can’t even quite remember what he had pictured, because whatever it was, the end result is better.

It’s late in the day. You’d left Boston late morning, arrived mid-afternoon, and while Tess had hurried Joel through a shower and getting dressed, leading him the back way out of the house while you came in the front, everyone careful not to let you see each other, the sun is starting to set. But it’s perfect, golden light covering the grass, sunbeams filtering through the trees. He can hear birds, and as he stands there, fidgeting with his hands clasped in front of him, he’s struck by how truly grateful he is, how he never could have imagined any of this.

Whatever thoughts had once crossed his mind, this is better.

He had the idea the last time you were in Lincoln. Bill had called Frank outside to ask something about their stockpile in the bunker, which Frank had rolled his eyes at, and Joel had expected you to follow Frank out, but when you didn’t, he asked.

“She’s inside, enjoying her coffee,” Frank had replied with a little smile, waving his hand toward the house. “There’s extra; I’ll send you two back with a thermos full.”

Joel had waited for Bill’s protest, but it never came, and Joel just grumbled his thanks.

“Liv was just telling me about your wedding day,” Frank said, and Joel’s ears perked up. “Leave it to FEDRA to make something beautiful so impersonal.”

“Yeah,” Joel agreed, staring down at his boots. “It’s not the day I woulda given her, if I had the chance.”

And there it was, the first spark of something. He couldn’t give you the wedding you’d probably dreamed of as a little girl, but maybe he could give you something else.

“Say, could I ask y’all a favour?”

Frank was overjoyed at the thought, and Joel again waited for Bill’s protest, but again it never came. Frank promised to look after the details, Bill agreed to build something in the backyard to hold the ceremony, and the plan was hatched.

Joel had felt guilty when the radio started playing. The song had been his idea, and he’d done his best to feign surprise when the song came on. You were too busy worrying to really notice, thankfully, and he knows he’s sure to get an earful at some point or another.

It’s small, obviously, but it’s perfect. Between two tall oaks in the backyard of the main house, Bill constructed a wooden archway, a lattice pattern filling the gaps, and long vines of ivy twisted through. It’s painted white, matched to the few chairs set in front. There are flowers in matching vases either side of the arch, and there are stones that line the path from the house up to the arch, a makeshift aisle.

Tess stands in the middle of the archway, a few pieces of paper in her hands. She looks great, Joel’s told her as much, and she just laughed and thanked him and said, “Just wait til’ you see her.” Frank sits in one of the chairs, one beside him for Bill, another two set on the other side, one for Tess. He’d asked her if she wanted to bring Robin along, but her reluctance to involve her girlfriend in the more dangerous parts of your lives overshadowed her want to have her there.

Joel sees the back door of the house swing open, and Bill steps out first. He extends his hand back inside, and you reach out to take it, lifting the skirt of your dress as you take the two steps down onto the grass. Joel can’t help but chuckle when he sees you’re barefoot, but then his eyes move up your pretty white dress, the flowers in your hair, the giddy smile on your face, and he thinks he might topple over on the spot. He tugs at his tie — yeah, he’s wearing a fucking tie — and Tess must catch his slight sniffle as tears spring in his eyes, because she nudges his arm. “Told ya.”

Frank reaches beneath his chair, producing a small radio with a cassette player. You turn towards them all fully, and Joel can see the shock in your face just as Frank hits play. Bill offers you his arm just as the first chords start to play, and you’re smiling so big it makes Joel’s face ache just looking at you. He wants to kiss that grin, has to stop himself from running full tilt at you and doing it right then and there.

He sees the recognition in your face as you start to walk towards him, your hand tucked into the crook of Bill’s elbow.

If the sun refused to shine, I would still be lovin’ you.

Led Zeppelin. The same tape you once bought him for his truck back in Austin, the same one you played the night the two of you became the two of you once more. 

When the mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.

He can’t take his eyes off you, as you get closer and closer. He’s committing every inch of you to memory, for the millionth time. He’s torn between wanting to rip that dress right off of you and wanting to keep you in it for the rest of your life. He’s so fucking in love with you, he can’t believe he has you, that he found you after so many years, that he’s managed to keep you still.

You reach the end of the aisle, maybe three feet from him, and Bill stops you, turns you toward him. He leans in and pecks your cheek, and then turns to Joel, shakes his hand. Joel takes a step forward and Bill places your hand in Joel’s, giving him a nod.

Kind a woman, I give you my all, kind a woman, nothin’ more.

You arrange yourselves in front of the arch, and you turn to hand your little bouquet of daisies to Frank before taking both of Joel’s hands, squeezing your warm fingers around his. “Holy shit.”

Everybody laughs, the song fades out, and Tess clears her throat.

“Well, this is about as close as we can get to traditional, I guess. It’s fitting, I think.”

Joel’s listening, he swears he is. He can hear every word Tess says, every chuckle from Frank and even Bill, every hitch in your breathing. He can hear the birds in the trees and the thump of his own heart. But he’s focused on you, the little twitch of your hands in his, the way you’re smiling at him.

God, he wishes Sarah were here. Her memory still carries a slice of pain — he knows it always will — and though it aches, all he can think of is how well the two of you would have got on. He can still remember your first accidental meeting so clearly, and the times that followed. His daughter was too smart not to see through your “I’m a good friend of your dad’s” introduction, and even after you left for Boston, she had asked after you more than once.

“I like her,” she’d said once, casually, over breakfast, like they were discussing the weather. “She makes you all…shiny.”

“Shiny?”

“Yeah,” she’d continued, poking at her eggs. “All bright and stuff. It’s a good thing.”

“Whatever you say, kiddo.”

And somehow, here you are again, making him feel all bright and shiny, even after the world ends.

“Joel?” Tess prompts, and Joel snaps out of his memory, Tess handing him a piece of paper. “You wanna go first?”

“Oh,” he grumbles, taking the paper from her, reluctantly letting go of your hands so he can see the words he’s written on the page. “Yeah.”

Your brow furrows slightly as he clears his throat, your jaw dropping slightly. “You jackass, you wrote something?”

Joel feels his cheeks go hot. “I did.”

You’re shaking your head, but you’re beaming. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“Luckiest man on earth,” he agrees. Then he remembers the paper in his hands. “Now, let me read it to you.”

“Okay,” you say softly, your voice laced with your smile. “I’m listening.”

+

Ten years ago, on this exact day, I walked into a hardware store. I was just lookin’ for a drill bit, stopped in on my way to a job on the other side of Austin. Never in a million years did I think I’d walk down the paint aisle and find you standing there, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, smilin’ at me like I’d won the damn lottery.

Didn’t know back then that I’d fall in love with you so hard. Didn’t know you’d break my heart and mend it all in one shot, that I’d lose you before I really had the chance to love you properly. Then I lost everything, we all did, and I just…

It wasn’t easy. It’s still not easy. I was a jackass, when I first found you again, and I know I haven’t been perfect since, but, goddamnit, Liv, I’ll never love another woman the way I’ve loved you. Not in a million years. Not until my heart stops beatin’, and maybe even after that.

I’m a lucky son of a bitch, being able to love you the way I do. Luckier still that you agreed to marry me. I know I’m not the easiest sometimes, I know none of this is, but I swear to always love you, protect you, with everything I have left. Forever.

+

You’ve been crying since you saw him standing beneath the arch. You’d given up on wiping the tears when Tess started talking, and then when Joel pulled out his vows, it was even worse, but you didn’t care.

He folds up the piece of paper, stuffs it in his pocket, and you have to hold back from launching yourself at him. Joel takes your hands again, rubbing his thumbs across your knuckles, and you take a deep breath. “So that’s why you played eighties,” you say, shooting Frank a look. He’s crying too. “Ten years ago, today?”

Joel nods, lifts your hands to his lips, dots kisses across your fingers. “To the day.”

You take another deep breath. “Well, I would have written something, if I’d known, but all I really want to say right now is that I love you, Joel Miller. You’re right, it’s not easy, but standing by your side, it makes it easier, makes it worth it. I’m the lucky one, to have found you even after all of this, and no matter what comes our way, I got you, baby. Forever.”

+

It’s a sweet kiss. It’s an I love you brushed across his mouth. It’s hands in his hair and your body pressed against his. He tries his best not to mess with the fabric of your dress too much, the material soft as anything against his palms. Faintly, he can hear Tess and Bill and Frank cheering, somebody whistling, and the birds are still singing.

It’s perfect.

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[diazheartsbuckley]

Inspiration Saturday/Several Sentence Sunday

It happened it again y’all. Yesterday I managed to write another 6k words of the omegaverse office romance fic 🥹 This is definitely way more than seven sentences but I think it’s worth it lol

Tagged by @steadfastsaturnsrings @tizniz @wildlife4life @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @wikiangela @loserdiaz 💋

Prev snippet here

(Snippet and tags under cut)

For a second, a smile reads on Eddie’s face, the excitement to see his mate not able to be hidden beneath all of the layers of anger. But it slowly starts to drop as Eddie takes another step into the apartment.

He can smell it clear as day. His scent mixed in with Buck’s. And he instantly knows. Buck doesn’t even have to say anything. But he wishes that he had. Because it stings and it burns inside his chest, tears almost welling up in his eyes instantly.

Buck can tell how quickly Eddie’s facial expression changes and he realizes that he isn’t wearing blockers, his scent as clear as the summer air. He slowly gets up from the couch, almost paralyzed with fear and anxiety as he reaches a weak hand towards Eddie.

He shouldn’t find out this way.

“No”

Eddie’s lips are quivering as he takes two sharp breaths, trying to regain control of his body and his feelings but he’s unable to hide them and even remotely contain them,

“No, this isn’t-... isn’t real” Eddie wants to be excited because everything that he had hoped for is true. The baby is his. He’s having a child with Buck. But he’s known about it this entire time and hasn’t told him. But the emptiness fills him up inside, his trust in Buck now completely shattered.

He wants to be this baby’s dad.

He is this baby’s dad.

But Buck’s lies and broken promises have crippled him, making him unable to feel anything but a scorching anger and resentment. He can’t even bring himself to look at him and he paces around the room, unable to stand still.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-... I didn’t mean for you to find out this way” Buck reaches out for Eddie who pulls away quickly and shakes his head, holding up his hands to keep Buck at a distance.

“Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just-...”

Eddie can barely get the words out, his feelings and thoughts completely fragmented all over the place. He feels like an anvil is pressing on his chest, restricting his breathing and he clutches onto his shirt as he turns his back to Buck. He can’t and won’t look at Buck. “You were never going to tell me, were you? You were going to let me live the rest of my life thinking that I was raising another man's son”

“No!” Buck says quickly, arms protectively wrapped around his chest. The entire apartment reeked of Eddie’s anger and sadness, the latter making it feel like Buck’s heart might stop in his chest. “Eddie, I was going to tell you the truth. I just didn’t know. And I was so afraid, just so afraid” He sniffles a few times to try and compose himself.

“When, Buck? Just fucking when were you going to tell me? You have had so many chances! The ultrasound technician thinks that I’m that little boys” Eddie turns around and points at Buck’s bump, his entire body shaking so much that he believes that he could collapse on the spot. “...dad. And I played along with your games, smiling and pretending so that you didn’t have to explain the situation. It was never fucking pretend. He’s always been mine!” Eddie points at himself with his entire hand, feeling tears streaming down his cheeks faster than he can wipe them away with the other.

“You kept it from me, Buck. For months! You lied straight to my face for months. I have loved you and your-... our son through all of this and you just kept me hanging at the end of a noose, waiting for the right time to pull that lever and take my whole life in your hands. You don’t get to make that choice for me. How could you do this to me?”

Eddie can no longer hold the weight of his crumbling body and falls onto his knees, sobbing painstakingly loud, his shoulders bouncing up and down as he grips onto the sides of his shirt in a futile attempt to soothe himself.

Tagging!! @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @disasterbuckdiaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @honestlydarkprincess @giddyupbuck @fionaswhvre @evanbegins @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @butraura @devirnis @athenagranted @lover-of-mine 🦋💗