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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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Adopt a Jock Part One / Part Two / Part Three PART FOUR YOU ARE HERE Part five

As always I own my entire soul to @chalkysgarbagefire

Steve didn't show up to lunch that Monday.

This was a problem, because Gareth and Eddie had carefully prepared the entirety of Hellfire to help make Steve play a D&D one-shot.

(Well, mostly Eddie--and he'd left out the parts about how the entire goal was to acclimate Harrington to hugs and high fives.

Gareth assumed that was a more careful conversation they'd all have later, outside of school grounds.)

"Eds, if you jiggle your legs any harder the table is going to take flight." Gareth complained, scooting away before he got jabbed in the gut.

"Where is he!?" Eddie muttered, glancing at his watch for what had to be the twenty-fifth time. “Are we sure he showed up to class this morning?"

Stewart, the only person to share a class with Harrington, gave their leader an exasperated look. "Yes, I’m sure."

He flicked his spoon, pointing it towards Eddie. "And yes he looked fine, yes, everything seemed normal, no I don't know why he's not here and no, no one fucking abducted him, or threatened him, or any of the other crazy excuses you keep coming up with!”

Eddie’s frown deepened as Gareth and Grant traded concerned glances.

"Maybe he just didn't want to sit with us today." Jeff remarked, approaching the topic with the same care a technician had when approaching a live bomb.

Gareth thought it was a smart move, considering Eddie looked like he was about to rocket into the ceiling.

"He's sat with us everyday, why would he change now?" Eddie argued.

"Maybe there's a basketball thing happening. Or he's saying hi to his jock buddies." Gareth tried, using the same cautious tone Jeff had.

"We’re his friends!" Eddie snapped, looking two seconds away from losing his shit entirely.

Almost unconsciously, Gareth and Jeff both raised a hand almost to try and help calm him.

Like he was a wild horse and they were the preteen girls in the movies determined to establish a bond before he killed their grandpa or some shit.

This was what happened when one deviated from a predetermined Munson-made plan. Not that Steve had known that of course, but then, he wasn’t exactly catching the fallout, was he?

‘I am making Harrington buy lunch after this.’ Gareth thought, as Eddie returned to bouncing both his legs almost frantically. ‘From someplace expensive.’

"Maybe Hargrove ate him." Grant suggested, as if the very thought of Billy Hargrove wouldn’t set Eddie off on a rampage.

"I could see it." Stewart agreed. "Dude has cannibal vibes."

"Not. Helping." Jeff hissed, his palm still in the air and hovering vaguely over Eddie’s shoulder.

Sure enough, Eddie’s entire body tensed at the mere mention of Hawkin High’s new King. "That’s it. We’re going to find him.”

“Have fun.” Tiff said, waving him off.

Eddie glared. “We’re all going.” He practically spat.

With a put upon sigh, Tiff set her food down. "You really want to spend the rest of our lunch period stalking around the hallways looking for Harrington?"

Eddie gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white.

"Yes Tiff, I do." He said, a manic gleam in his eyes.

He shoved up from the table, striking the kind of pose he often used during his rants. “This is a break in a pattern of behavior. A veer from an established path! This is the very first sign in every horror movie that something is wrong!”

He went to put his foot up on the edge of the table, like a pirate captain looking to the seas ahead, but instead missed it entirely and fell forward.

Eddie flailed for a moment, before managing to catch himself on the edge of the table. Instantly he began acting like he’d intended to fall like that from the start.

“I refuse to let any of us behave like idiotic, stupid, horror movie characters.” He finished dramatically, hair hanging in his face.

“You’ve been watching that Sherlock Holmes show again, haven’t you?.” Jeff asked him flatly.

“Among other things.” Gareth muttered, because as usual, he was the one who’d been watching said shows and movies with Eddie.

Not that it bothered him any, just that it meant he got to watch his best friend adopt new behaviors in real time.

Eddie flew back up, flinging his hair out of his face with a dramatic toss of his head.

“Come on my Watson’s! Let’s go find Harrington. I have a one-shot to pitch dammit!” Eddie outright yelled, flinging his arm skyward once again.

He got several startled glances in the cafeteria for it, but as used to Eddie as they all were, no one bothered to say anything to him.

“Why the fuck would we all be Watson?” Stewart muttered as he stood.

“I agree. Obviously, I’d be Watson.” Gareth said, also getting to his feet. “You’d be Mrs. Hudson.”

“Oh fuck you, I would at least be the other crazy smart dude.”

“Mycroft or Moriarty?”

“Mycroft.” Grant and Jeff chanted as one, the both of them putting their food away.

“Not one of you is any Sherlock Holmes character. Except maybe the dog.” Tiff cut in with an eye roll as she finally gave in and stood herself. "Now come on, let's go take Eddie for a walk."

Said metalhead flipped her the bird, but otherwise didn't protest.

(Probably because this wasn't the first time they'd had to do laps with Eddie.)

xXx

"Maybe he just went home." Gareth said reasonably some fifteen or so minutes later.

They'd made their way through the school, Eddie obnoxiously bursting through all the bathroom doors to loudly (and embarrassingly) yell for Steve.

They hadn't seen hide nor perfectly shaped hair of their wayward jock, and none of them were looking forward to trapezing around the outside of the school to hunt for him.

Thankfully, they didn't have to.

"Wait.” Tiffany asked, as they passed by the small little hallway leading to the art and photography rooms. “Is that Steve?"

Immediately all heads turned towards the direction she had pointed in.

"I think so?" Jeff guessed, eyeing the guy standing in the hallway down from them.

Gareth squinted, trying to get a better look. "Looks like." He agreed. "Also looks like Tiff was right, he is hanging out with other people."

Eddie tensed at that. A true feat, Gareth thought, because he was already wound so tight he looked in danger of snapping in half.

"Fucking useless." Tiff muttered.

Louder, she said; "Let's try that again. Isn't that our idiot jock with his ex-girlfriend and the guy she supposedly cheated on him with?"

The lot of them watched as Steve stood in one of his classic defensive positions (arms tucked into his sides, back rigid and chin down, like he was about to perform some kind of football tackle.)

Nancy Wheeler faced him, her own chin raised and her arms crossed like she was about to give the lecture of a lifetime.

In between them stood Jonathan Byers, though he was angled more towards his girlfriend than Steve. The guy practically radiated discomfort but seemed to be managing.

Even if his shoulders were practically above his ears.

It didn't exactly look like a two on one situation, but then it didn't not look like it either.

"Shit." Gareth said, which summed up the situation rather nicely.

"Should we go save him?" Grant asked, concerned.

Not one person moved.

Instead, all eyes went to their fearless leader--who was uncharacteristically silent.

Gareth took in the narrowed, frantic-turned-furious look upon his friend's face and wondered vaguely if he was going to have to stop a murder today.

Possibly two, depending on Byer’s involvement.

"Defensive position boys!" Tiffany called out, breaking the spell with sheer volume as she made the decision for them. "Eddie, you with us or not?"

Brave words for her, considering Gareth knew damn well that Tiff was often more bark than bite.

Thankfully, it worked.

"Right!" Eddie barked, jerking in place as he came back to himself. "Our Stevie needs us, men and Tiff!"

He pointed forwards, like a war general leading a charge. "Hellfire, move out!"

Fanning out into a triangle behind their club president, the lot of them followed as Eddie marched forward.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." Nancy was saying, and even though Gareth didn't know her he could tell she was frustrated.

"You have people you can talk to. You have m--" she cut herself off when Eddie strode up next to Steve.

Then blinked rapidly, reminding Gareth of a startled cocker spaniel when the rest of Hellfire fanned out around Harrington like wolves guarding their young.

(Or brightly colored and very angry ducks, but wolves sounded cooler.

Plus the last time he'd said something like this aloud; Grant had loudly informed him it was actually Muskox that made protective circles, Stewart brought up that triceratops were cooler, Jeff decided they should be bees and Tiffany had gone off on a tangent about badly done animal behavioral studies.)

"I daresay I agree!" Eddie said, taking a dramatic leap forward and startling Steve and Byers both.

That alone was a cause to worry--Gareth couldn't recall a single time Steve wasn't hyper-aware of his surroundings enough to get properly lost in it.

At least lost enough that he missed an entire group of people approaching.

"Steve is more than welcome to talk to people! His people." Eddie leaned forward a touch, the smirk on his face the one he used when he was playing up his role as the town's satanist cult leader.

To her credit, Nancy recovered remarkably fast. "I take it you believe that's you?"

Eddie reared back, like a cobra rising to strike. "Why Nancy Wheeler, Stevie here is an adult and can choose who he wants to talk to.”

He turned, one hand over his heart and the other held out to Steve. " Ain’t that right, big boy?”

Nancy and Byers both just stared.

Gareth couldn’t blame them, he was staring too.

Apparently deciding Eddie was too ridiculous to deal with, Nancy returned instead to talking to Steve--who, Gareth noted with more than his fair share of pride, looked a bit more grounded now that Hellfire had arrived.

“I understand that we’re in a weird place right now, but you have to know I still care about you, right?” Nancy bit her lip, clearly unhappy to have an audience but plowing ahead anyway.

"I'm fine, Nance.” Steve told her, voice steady, but growing flat.

He was shutting down--shutting her out, if not everyone out. Gareth knew, if only because he’d watched Harrington do it to them more than once.

(Knew because he himself had shut downs just like this. Eddie and Nancy were the kind of people who got loud in their anger, demanding people see and face them.

Gareth on the other hand, even with his more explosive temper, often ended up more like Steve when faced with breakdowns with people he cared about. He didn’t want to hurt them. To say the wrong thing, to lash out when someone was just trying to help.

It was safer to shut up, back away and put some distance between yourself and whoever had pissed you off.)

Either Nancy wasn’t aware of that or was too deep into her own emotions to see it, because she took a half step forward. “I know you’re not fine. I know you, Steve.”

“Not anymore you don’t.” Steve responded, and Gareth wondered if he realized he was leaning away from her--and towards Eddie.

Considering the way Wheeler’s eyes bounced between them, he knew she definitely had.

Quite possible Byers too, from how he had to stop himself from pulling Nancy away.

“I’ve been working hard to become someone else.” Steve added. “So you don’t have to feel responsible for me. I’m not your problem anymore.” He spoke without malice, just with the pure emptiness of someone who completely believed everything he said.

“Steve-” Nancy protested, but Eddie cut her off.

"You heard him." He said, peacocking his little social win in a way only Eddie could. "Now if you don't mind, I have extremely important things to discuss and you have cut drastically into my time."

He flicked his fingers in a shoo gesture, one that made Nancy's eyes spark in a way that quite frankly, terrified Gareth.

"Fine." She grit out through clenched teeth. "You know I’m always available to talk, Steve."

She strode off, passing Steve and the rest of Hellfire without a glance backwards.

"Sorry man." Jonathan muttered apologetically to Steve as he passed, following after his girlfriend.

Steve waved him off.

"Well she's just a delight." Jeff muttered, once Nancy was well out of hearing range.

Steve's entire chest heaved in a sigh, swaying slightly backwards as if the entire confrontation had physically drained him.

"She's trying to help.” Steve muttered softly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “She's just...coming at it wrong."

He turned, seeming to finally notice that all of Hellfire was there. "What are you all doing out here anyway?"

"Rescuing you." Grant informed him.

"From Nancy and Jonathan?" Steve said in disbelief.

Like Byers hadn't supposedly kicked his ass already. Nevermind the moping Wheeler had caused.

(The entire school had witnessed the moping.

It was, after all, part of what had drawn Eddie to Steve.)

"Yes." Tiff replied bluntly. “Also if she corners you like that again, I will make it my personal mission in life to top all her test scores.”

"I--okay." Steve blinked rapidly, clearly unsure of how to process that.

“Not that I needed rescuing,” He continued after a moment, staring at the whole group. “But why were you looking for me in the first place?”

His voice was slowly recovering, coming out of that weird flatness it had scrunched itself into. It was an excellent sign, a sign of trust, and Gareth leapt to keep it before someone could say something stupid and fuck it up.

"Eddie needed you to pitch his next one shot idea and couldn't wait for you to show up." Gareth admitted. “We decided to hunt you down since you were missing lunch.”

“Oh.” Steve blinked again, and though it’d be concerning on anyone else, the guy just looked like a lost puppy. “I’m sorry man.”

“It's alright Stevie. I just thought you'd totally ditched us.” Eddie sniffed dramatically, looking like he was going to wing an arm around Steve’s shoulder but thought better of it. “No biggie.”

He pouted, and made absolutely sure Steve could see him do it.

“Is this you trying to get more of my M&M brownies?” Steve asked after a moment.

“Oh my dear, sweet, athletic friend. Not at all. Instead, you are going to play the one shot I worked so hard on.” Eddie bounced his shoulder into him as he spoke.

It was a weird little compromise the two of them seemed to have, since Gareth had regularly witnessed Eddie ping-ponging off Steve’s shoulders. “Let us break your tabletop cherry.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, the tiniest bit of humor peaking through.

Eddie stared at him, abruptly still and completely serious. “I will cry, Steven. Loudly.”

It brought a small smile to Steve’s face.

“Fine. I’ll play your dumb dweeb game.” He said, and couldn’t seem to stop the smile from overtaking his face when Eddie threw his arms in the air and cheered.

“Come on, I’m pretty sure the bell rang forever ago.” Jeff said, as they began to venture out back to the main hallway.

(“Hey guys?” Steve asked, right before they all split up to go to their various classes. “Thanks. For the save.”

Eddie positively beamed. “Anytime, Steve. Anytime.”)

xXx

“Hey Gareth?” Steve asked a few days later, joining Gareth in the library during his free period.

(Gareth himself was skipping, because if he had to listen to yet another lesson on the Crucible he was going to declare himself a satan worshiping witch and demand to be hanged.)

Gareth hummed to show he heard, as he carefully took stock of the loot he’d gotten from their last game. Eddie had been pretty good about it for once, and he wanted to look things over before the one shot.

“Can I ask kind of a weird question?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Shoot, Stevie.” Gareth replied, finally comfortable enough to use the main nickname Eddie had nailed the poor guy with.

“Did Eddie give me a character with bad eyesight or “night vision” or whatever, because he thinks I have bad eyesight?” Steve’s fingers made sassy little air quotations around “night vision” because he knew damn well it wasn’t called that and didn’t want to get chewed out.

It was appreciated, even if it was cheeky as shit.

Gareth stopped writing. “Why’d you think that?”

“He just keeps acting like I’m my character.” Steve replied with a shrug. “Like all that stuff we planned about how my character gets around and relies on the group since he can’t see that great in the daylight? He does it for me too.”

“It’s Eddie, he’s eccentric.” Gareth struggled to keep a straight face, trying not to give the game away.

Laughing would absolutely clue Steve in to the fact that Eddie was doing it on purpose.

“He just keeps telling me before he touches me. Outside of the game.” Steve continued, utterly baffled.

Of course, Eddie was doing far more than that, in order to keep up the appearance that he was just being a weirdo who was too into his game. (Instead of trying to alert Steve to the fact he was going to lean on him, hug him, or do any other thing involving skin to skin contact that usually made Harrington panic.)

“If you don’t like it you should tell him,” Gareth said. He knew it was the better option, encouraging Steve to communicate. They could come up with something else if this was too weird (as frankly, many of Eddie’s plans could be.

Bless the guy but he had a habit of going for the dramatic over the practical.)

“No!” Steve protested, far too quickly.

He cleared his throat with a cough, and continued in a much calmer voice, “No, I don’t wanna ruin his fun or anything.”

As far as excuses go for letting something happen it was a weak one, but Gareth wasn’t going to call him on it. If Steve wanted to hide behind Eddie and his “fun” then Gareth would happily pretend to buy it.

Would buy whatever excuse Steve needed, to help make the guy feel more comfortable and like himself than the still often vacant ghost that hung around now.

“Just wanted to know if he actually thought my eyesight sucked.” Steve finished in a mumble.

“Well you did trip over the curb that one time.” Gareth teased playfully, and shot a grin at Harrington when that awkward look of his melted into something more offended.

“I was walking backwards!” Steve defended, his normal, almost bitchy tone returning.

“Uh-huh. And what about when you almost ate shit over that garbage can and Eddie had to save you?” Gareth taunted.

He grinned, watching as a blush overtook the older boys face, Steve glancing away frantically and--

Oh.

Oh!

'Oh-ho, ho, ho!' Gareth thought with absolute glee. The entire fucking school knew what Steve looked like when he had a crush, (Steve himself had made sure of that with Nancy) and Gareth recognized the beginning of it happening all over again.

Steve Harrington had a crush.

On Eddie.

Gareth could work with this.

“You know….” He paused, grin turning sly as a sudden idea came to him. “If you want to mess with Eddie a little bit I have an idea.”

Steve stared at him, confused. “Why would we want to mess with him?”

Gareth leaned forward. “Because pranks are fun, Harrington. Legend has it you even used to do them.”

Steve still didn't look convinced, but the nice thing about a man like Steve was that all Gareth had to appeal to was his sense of adventure.

“Now." He clapped his hands together in a move that had very much been stolen years ago from Eddie. "How good are your acting skills?

Meant to post this yesterday but I got surprise laid off last week and that pushed me back a bit, sorries! Absolutely related, I have a Ko-Fi now lmao. It’s https://ko-fi.com/sp0o0kyghosthost

Unemployment should go through just fine so I don’t really think I need to full panic but hey if you wanna throw me a dollar and yell “Dance writer dance!” I’ll do a lil tippy-tap jig.

#fucking jobs #this ones a bit more whumpy #steddie #pre steddie #they gettin there though #hellfire adopts Steve #adopt a jock #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth emerson #Nancys in this one #she cares theres just a lot of hurt there #Eddie on the other hand is JEALOUS #that is HIS jock thank you!#He is REHABBING that jock!#dont you make his Stevie sad!#Gareth is now playing matchmaker #Lap Wars is coming

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estapa-edwards · 15 days

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MEDIA GIRL - L. HUGHES

paring: Luke Hughes x fem! reader

word count: 2.4k

requested? yes - luke falling in love with the media girl at the new jersey devil and finally asking her out

warnings: use of y/n. multiple pov

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I've been working closely with the Devils for the past couple of years, crafting content, capturing moments, and sharing the team's journey with fans around the world. It's a job I love, immersed in the world of hockey and surrounded by passionate individuals who share the same love for the sport.

One player, in particular, had caught my eye since he joined the team – Luke Hughes. As a rising star defenseman, he commanded attention on the ice with his skillful play and undeniable charisma. But it wasn't just his performance on the rink that intrigued me; there was something about his infectious smile and genuine personality that drew me in.

As the seasons passed and the rhythm of the hockey calendar dictated our lives, Luke and I found ourselves drawn together by the magnetic pull of our shared experiences. It was during those moments in between the action, the quiet lulls amidst the chaos, that our connection began to deepen.

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During interviews, our conversations would often veer off course, wandering into topics far beyond the scope of the game. Luke's genuine curiosity about my life outside of the arena was both surprising and endearing. We swapped stories about our childhoods, our favorite movies, and our shared love for good food. It was during these impromptu exchanges that I discovered the layers beneath the confident exterior of the hockey star – the insecurities, the dreams, the quirks that made him undeniably human.

Promotional shoots became an opportunity for us to explore our creative sides together. Whether we were brainstorming ideas for social media campaigns or striking poses for team merchandise, there was an undeniable synergy between us. Luke's playful nature brought out the best in me, inspiring me to push the boundaries of my creativity and embrace the spontaneity of the moment.

And then there were the social media campaigns – our bread and butter in the digital age of sports marketing. As the social media coordinator for the Devils, I was responsible for crafting content that resonated with fans and showcased the team's personality both on and off the ice. Luke, with his infectious energy and natural charisma, was the perfect partner in crime. Whether we were filming behind-the-scenes videos, hosting live Q&A sessions, or engaging with fans on Twitter, our dynamic duo captured the hearts of Devils fans everywhere.

But amidst the whirlwind of interviews, shoots, and campaigns, it was the quiet moments in between that I cherished the most. The stolen glances across a crowded room, the shared smiles that spoke volumes without a single word exchanged. It was during those moments that I felt the walls around my heart slowly crumbling, giving way to the possibility of something more than just friendship.

And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, I couldn't shake the feeling that Luke Hughes had become more than just a teammate or a colleague – he had become a permanent fixture in my life, a constant presence that I couldn't imagine living without.

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As the final buzzer sounded, signaling the Devils' hard-fought victory on the ice, the arena erupted into a cacophony of cheers and applause. Luke and Y/N found themselves caught up in the swell of excitement and emotion, the electric atmosphere pulsating around them like a living, breathing entity.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she watched with bated breath, her eyes fixed on Luke as he skated across the rink, his movements fluid and graceful, his arms raised triumphantly in the air. In that moment, he was more than just a hockey player – he was a hero, a symbol of strength and resilience in the face of adversity.

"That was incredible," Y/N exclaimed, her voice tinged with awe as she watched him bask in the glow of their win. The pride swelling in her chest was palpable, a surge of emotion threatening to overwhelm her as she realized the magnitude of what they had accomplished together.

Luke flashed her a grin, his eyes shining with adrenaline-fueled excitement. "Thanks, Y/N," he replied, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without your support."

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat at his words, her heart skipping a beat as she absorbed the weight of his gratitude. It was a simple acknowledgment, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things, but to her, it meant everything. It was validation – validation of her hard work, her dedication, her unwavering belief in him and the team.

"You're welcome," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll always be here to cheer you on, no matter what." Her words were a promise, a pledge of allegiance to the man who had captured her heart without even realizing it.

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It was during one particularly intense game that everything changed. The Devils were down a goal with minutes left on the clock, tension thick in the air as the crowd held its breath. In a dramatic turn of events, Luke managed to score the tying goal, sending the arena into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

Amidst the celebration, our eyes met across the crowded arena, a shared moment of triumph and exhilaration. And in that instant, I knew – I was falling for Luke Hughes.

But as the game ended and the crowd began to disperse, doubt crept into my mind. What if I was misreading the signs? What if our connection was nothing more than professional courtesy? I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand as I followed the team to the locker room for post-game interviews.

It was there, amidst the chaos of the locker room, that Luke sought me out. His eyes were bright with excitement, a victorious grin playing on his lips as he approached me.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth. "I just wanted to say thanks for all your hard work. That goal wouldn't have been possible without you."

I felt my cheeks flush with heat, a rush of emotions swirling inside me as I met his gaze. "It was all you out there," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "You played an amazing game."

Luke smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer. "Hey, do you maybe want to grab dinner sometime? You know, to celebrate the win?"

My heart skipped a beat, the world around us fading away as I processed his words. Luke Hughes, asking me out on a date? It felt like a dream come true.

"Um, yeah," I stammered, a smile spreading across my face. "I would love to."

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LUKES POV

Luke Hughes sat in the locker room, his mind swirling with thoughts of the game ahead. The adrenaline coursed through his veins, his heart pounding with anticipation. But amidst the excitement of the upcoming match, there was another thought that lingered at the back of his mind – Y/N.

From the moment he first laid eyes on her, Luke knew there was something special about Y/N. It wasn't just her beauty or her infectious smile that drew him in; it was the way she carried herself, with a confidence and grace that was impossible to ignore. And as he got to know her better, he discovered that beneath the surface, there was a kindness and warmth that made her truly captivating.

As the seasons passed and their paths continued to intertwine, Luke found himself drawn to Y/N in ways he couldn't explain. There was a magnetic pull between them, a natural chemistry that made every interaction feel effortless and meaningful. Whether they were working together on promotional shoots or sharing moments of quiet camaraderie in between interviews, Luke felt a connection with Y/N that went beyond words.

But it wasn't just her professional prowess that impressed him – it was her passion for the game, her dedication to her craft, and her unwavering support for the team that truly captured his heart. In Y/N, Luke found a kindred spirit, someone who shared his love for hockey and understood the sacrifices he made to pursue his dreams.

And as he sat in the locker room, preparing to take the ice with his teammates, Luke couldn't shake the feeling that Y/N was more than just a colleague or a friend – she was someone he could see himself building a future with. But he also knew that crossing that line was fraught with uncertainty and risk. What if she didn't feel the same way? What if their relationship changed the dynamic of their team?

Luke Hughes leaned against the wall of the locker room, his heart pounding in his chest as he stole a glance at Y/N across the room. She was engrossed in conversation with a colleague, her laughter ringing out like music in the air. For a moment, he hesitated, his mind swirling with doubts and uncertainties. But then he remembered the way she had looked at him during the game, the spark of excitement in her eyes as they celebrated their victory together. And in that moment, he knew – he had to take a chance.

Pushing himself away from the wall, Luke crossed the room with determined strides, his heart racing with nerves as he approached Y/N. As he drew closer, he could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, a lump forming in his throat as he struggled to find the right thing to say.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, his voice slightly shaky but filled with genuine warmth. "I just wanted to say thanks for all your hard work tonight. That goal wouldn't have been possible without you."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with surprise and gratitude. "Oh, it was nothing," she replied, her voice soft but sincere. "You played an amazing game out there."

Luke smiled, his confidence growing with each passing moment. "Listen, I was thinking," he began, his words tumbling out in a rush of excitement. "Would you maybe want to grab dinner sometime? You know, to celebrate the win?"

As he waited for her response, Luke felt a surge of nervous energy coursing through his veins. What if she said no? What if he had misread the signs and made a fool of himself? But then Y/N's face broke into a radiant smile, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Um, yeah," she stammered, her cheeks flushing with color. "I would love to."

A wave of relief washed over Luke as he took in her words, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Great," he said, unable to contain his excitement. "How about tomorrow night? I know this great Italian place downtown."

Y/N nodded eagerly, her smile widening with each passing second. "Sounds perfect," she replied, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.

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The soft glow of candlelight bathed the cozy Italian restaurant in a warm, inviting ambiance as Luke and I sat across from each other, our conversation flowing effortlessly like a river winding its way through the night. From the moment we arrived, there had been a palpable energy between us – a sense of anticipation that hung in the air like a promise waiting to be fulfilled.

As we sipped on glasses of red wine and savored bites of delicious pasta, the outside world faded away, leaving only the two of us lost in our own little bubble of bliss. Luke's laughter filled the air, a melodic symphony that echoed in my ears like music to my soul.

"So, tell me more about yourself," he said, his eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. "What do you like to do when you're not busy running the Devils' social media empire?"

I couldn't help but smile at his playful tone, the warmth of his gaze sending shivers down my spine. "Well, I'm a bit of a bookworm," I confessed, feeling a rush of excitement as I shared a piece of myself with him. "I love getting lost in a good novel, especially anything with a bit of mystery or romance."

Luke nodded, his expression thoughtful as he leaned in closer. "I can relate to that," he admitted, his voice low and intimate. "There's something magical about getting lost in a story, isn't there? It's like you're transported to a whole other world."

As the night wore on and the hours slipped away, our conversation deepened, weaving through topics both trivial and profound. We talked about our hopes and dreams, our fears and insecurities, laying bare our souls like open books for the other to read.

And then, amidst the laughter and the shared moments of connection, there was a shift in the air – a subtle change that left me breathless with anticipation. As Luke reached across the table to refill my wine glass, his touch sent a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins, igniting a fire deep within my heart.

"Y/N," he began, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "There's something I need to tell you."

I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for him to continue. In that moment, the world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us suspended in time, lost in a moment of shared intimacy.

"I know we've only known each other for a relatively short time," Luke continued, his eyes locked with mine, "but from the moment I met you, I felt something special – something I've never felt before."

I felt a rush of warmth flood my cheeks as I listened to his words, my heart swelling with emotion. "Luke," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I feel it too."

And then, without hesitation, he reached across the table and took my hand in his, his touch sending a wave of tingles dancing across my skin. "Y/N," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I know this might sound crazy, but I think I'm falling for you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed into his, the depth of his feelings mirrored in the depths of his soul. In that moment, I knew – I was falling for him too, falling harder and faster than I ever thought possible.

And as we sat there, hand in hand, lost in the glow of the candlelight and the warmth of each other's presence, I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world. For in Luke Hughes, I had found not just a teammate or a colleague, but a kindred spirit – someone who saw me for who I truly was and loved me all the more for it.

And as our eyes met across the table, a silent vow passed between us – a promise to cherish this moment, this connection, for as long as our hearts beat as one.

#luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #new jersey devils #nj devils #hockey #nhl x reader #nhl

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rafesapologist · 5 months

Text

the set up — rafe cameron; part eleven

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst

As your friends turned their gazes toward you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern, the weight of recent events clung to you like a heavy cloak. Their expectant smiles dimmed, replaced by furrowed brows and questioning eyes, as they sensed the solemnity in your demeanor.

In a flat, defeated tone, you broke the heavy silence. "I did it," the words escaped your lips, laden with the weight of compliance and defeat, echoing in the room. The defeated admission lingered, casting a shadow over the otherwise buoyant atmosphere among your friends.

Their expressions shifted, registering a mix of surprise and concern at your defeated confession. Unspoken questions hung in the air, their curiosity piqued yet tempered by an unspoken understanding that delving deeper might unravel complexities beyond the surface. The heaviness of the moment remained, leaving a silent tension that begged for explanation yet seemed to weigh down any further inquiry.

As JJ observed the room, concern etched across his features, his gaze fixed upon you, his best friend. The usual camaraderie that defined your bond had been strained by a recent disagreement, yet beneath the rift, his concern for you remained steadfast.

He noted the sadness etched into your expression, a furrow in his brow signaling his genuine worry. Despite the tension between you both, his concern eclipsed any personal grievances, his heart aching at the sight of your evident distress.

A flicker of conflict danced in his eyes, torn between wanting to bridge the gap between you and respecting the boundaries you'd set in your disagreement. His unspoken longing to offer comfort battled against the silence that hung heavily in the room, leaving an unspoken yearning that mirrored the complexities of your relationship.

You, attempting to veer away from the evident heaviness, interjected with forced casualness. "So, how did things go with you guys? Were you successful?" Your voice strained to mask the underlying sadness, attempting to divert the conversation away from the palpable tension in the room.

Your friends, taken aback by the sudden shift, exchanged puzzled glances, their expressions reflecting confusion and uncertainty. Caught off guard, they found themselves momentarily at a loss, their reactions muted as they grappled with the abrupt transition from somberness to what seemed like normalcy.

In their shared hesitation, their gazes met in silent inquiry, seeking guidance in navigating this unexpected shift. Each held back their words, sensing the unspoken turmoil lingering beneath the surface but unsure of how to acknowledge it without diminishing the weight of your emotions. The room lingered in an awkward pause, the unspoken tension enveloping the space, leaving everyone grappling for the right words to bridge the unspoken divide.

"Oh yeah," John B coughed, attempting to shatter the uncomfortable silence enveloping the room. "We got in and out pretty quickly. Sarah distracted Ward, and we got our stuff and left."

His words sliced through the tension, offering a lifeline to redirect the conversation towards a more mundane topic. There was a palpable sense of relief in his tone, a subtle attempt to lift the weight of the atmosphere by focusing on the successful mission.

The mention of their recent undertaking brought a semblance of normalcy to the room, a welcome distraction from the heavy emotions that had lingered moments ago. Yet, despite the shift, a trace of unease still hung in the air, a reminder of the unresolved emotions that continued to simmer beneath the surface.

"That's good, I'm glad," you replied in a dry tone, your words lacking enthusiasm as you tried to engage in the conversation without revealing the emotional turmoil within. Your gaze remained averted, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room.

Your response, though attempting to maintain the facade of normalcy, held a hint of detachment, an indication of your struggle to engage while grappling with the weight of your emotions. The room remained steeped in an uncomfortable silence, the unspoken tension palpable despite the attempt to steer the conversation toward a lighter topic.

"Y/n, are you sure you're okay?" Sarah's voice carried genuine concern, her eyes reflecting worry as she observed your withdrawn demeanor. You responded with a slight, unconvincing nod, reluctant to disclose the emotional upheaval from the revelations of what transpired with Rafe the night before.

Your gesture masked the whirlwind of emotions swirling within, a shield to conceal the inner turmoil you weren't prepared to unpack. Admitting the revelations from the prior night felt daunting, leaving you hesitant to reveal the intricate complexities that had unfolded in the intimate moments with Rafe.

"I'm gonna go lay down for a bit, didn't get much sleep last night," you announced, excusing yourself from the room, your words a veiled attempt to distance yourself from the mounting curiosity of your friends. As you departed, their exchanged glances held a collective air of puzzlement and concern, further intrigued by your sudden departure.

JJ, in particular, fixated his gaze on you, observing with an intensity that hinted at his lingering worry and a desire to understand the hidden layers behind your solemn disposition. His unwavering focus followed you as you retreated into one of the bedrooms, leaving the others pondering the unspoken events of the night before, intrigued by the cryptic nature of the situation.

You stepped into the room and collapsed onto the bed, tears welling in your eyes as you gazed up at the ceiling, recounting the events with Rafe from the night before. Attempting to stifle any sounds, you bit down on your lip, hoping to conceal the incoming rush of emotions.

Despite your efforts, a surge of sorrow and guilt overwhelmed you. Your resolve shattered, and silent whimpers escaped your lips, swiftly escalating into uncontrollable sobs. The weight of your actions washed over you, an avalanche of regret and sorrow flooding your heart.

As you lay there, the burden of toying with Rafe's emotions and the sensation of a lost opportunity bore down heavily on your conscience. The tears flowed freely, a testament to the remorse and heartache consuming you, leaving you feeling broken and distraught over the pain you might have caused.

Internally, a storm of self-reproach raged within you as you cursed your actions and words from the night before, grappling with the weight of your choices. The regret gnawed at your insides, a relentless barrage of thoughts tormenting your conscience.

Your mind fixated on Rafe, wondering how he might be feeling in that moment. The worry and guilt intertwined, forming a tangled knot of concern for his emotions, as you tried to envision the impact of your actions on him. The uncertainty of his state left you feeling restless, your heart heavy with the weight of remorse and the unspoken turmoil between you both. The impulse to reach out and apologize to Rafe surged within you, an earnest desire to mend what felt irreparably broken. Yet, a wave of hesitation washed over you, the realization sinking in that a call might only exacerbate the pain.

As much as the urge to apologize clawed at your conscience, a voice of reason prevailed. You reasoned with yourself, acknowledging that reaching out at that moment might only reopen wounds, adding further distress to an already tumultuous situation. The prospect of causing him more pain held you back, compelling you to reluctantly stifle the impulse to apologize, despite the ache of remorse festering within.

Amidst the whirlwind of tears and internal turmoil, a soft knock resonated through the room, interrupting the overwhelming flood of emotions. Your heart skipped a beat, the sound piercing through the chaos of your thoughts. Trying to compose yourself, you hastily wiped away the tears and cleared your throat, the remnants of distress still evident in your trembling breath. "Yes?" you called out, your voice betraying hints of recent emotional upheaval, as you awaited a response from the other side of the door.

"Y/n, it's just me." With a small sigh of recognition, you acknowledged JJ's voice from behind the door. Gathering yourself, you made an effort to compose your appearance, wiping away a few stray tears and taking a moment to steady your breath before approaching the door. With cautious steps, you crossed the room, the weight of recent emotions still lingering within. As you reached the door, you unlocked it and turned the knob, allowing JJ's entry into the room. You tried to muster a faint smile, a feeble attempt to mask the lingering traces of distress that clung to your features.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," JJ expressed, his concern evident in his tone as he observed your demeanor. "You seemed pretty upset out there." You met his gaze, a mixture of gratitude and reluctance flickering in your eyes. His genuine concern softened the edges of your distress, yet the weight of your emotions remained palpable. You attempted to offer a reassuring nod, hoping to alleviate his worry while simultaneously shielding the depths of your unrest.

"I'm fine, JJ," you stated in a dry tone, attempting to downplay the intensity of your emotions. "Just didn't sleep much last night, is all."

Despite your attempt to reassure him, JJ sensed the falsehood in your words. Your best friend knew you well enough to recognize the facade you attempted to maintain. He furrowed his brow, contemplating the reason behind your evasiveness. The conflict between your words and the emotions radiating from your eyes left him perplexed, wondering who you were trying to convince with your falsehoods. Your eyes, a window to the disturbance within, betrayed the sadness and guilt you attempted to conceal. JJ pondered the intricacies of your emotional distress, unsettled by the disparity between your words and the truth that emanated from your gaze.

"C'mon, Y/n, you don't have to lie to me. You know you can tell me anything," JJ pleaded softly, his voice carrying a gentle plea for honesty. He moved closer, an unspoken gesture of support, silently urging you to confide in him, to offer even a glimpse into the reason behind your somber state. The sincerity in JJ's words tugged at your heartstrings, tempting you to unburden yourself. Yet, a part of you hesitated, grappling with the weight of the unspoken truths you weren't ready to reveal. The conflict within you was mirrored in JJ's unwavering gaze, his earnest plea for your trust amplifying the turmoil within.

The room lingered in a pregnant silence, the unspoken hovering between you both, as JJ patiently awaited a sign, a shred of vulnerability, anything that might offer insight into the heavy emotions weighing you down.

"It's nothing you need to worry about," you deflected, brushing aside JJ's concern with a forced nonchalance. Crossing your arms, you held yourself as if to contain the turmoil brewing within, a physical shield to guard the emotions threatening to spill out. Part of you longed to confide in JJ, to unburden the weight that pressed upon your heart. Yet, you felt like a tangled mess, grappling with emotions that words alone couldn't unravel. The situation had surpassed the realm of simple explanations; it was a complex web of conflicting emotions.

Your heart ached, torn between the anguish of the way things unfolded with Rafe and the overwhelming guilt of keeping secrets from him, all in allegiance to a promise made to your friends. The weight of these emotions felt suffocating, leaving you on the brink of emotional collapse, unsure if your heartache stemmed solely from your dealings with Rafe or from the layers of deception that weighed heavily upon you.

"Look, if this is about the thing with Rafe, you really don't have to—"

"Stop, okay? It's alright. I'm okay. I have to do this for you guys," you interjected, cutting off JJ's attempt to probe further. The firmness in your voice masked the battle going on inside of you, an attempt to halt the conversation from delving into the depths of your conflicted emotions.

Your words, though intended to reassure, held an undertone of inner struggle. The weight of your loyalty to your friends juxtaposed against the ache in your heart, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made to uphold a promise. The resilience in your tone masked the fragility beneath, a silent plea for the conversation to steer away from the complexities that burdened you.

JJ's expression softened with a mix of sadness and a sense of helplessness, feeling a partial responsibility for the emotional turmoil you were experiencing. He recognized the facade you presented, contrasting starkly with your usual vibrant self, now replaced by a reserved and quiet demeanor.

Standing in silence, JJ observed you with a compassionate gaze, acknowledging the pain etched in your eyes. He sensed your avoidance of eye contact, a silent plea to hold back the floodgate of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

"You don't have to do this, Y/n. Look at what it's doing to you," he spoke gently, his voice carrying a quiet concern. His words held a plea for you to reconsider the sacrifices you were making for the sake of others, a heartfelt desire to alleviate the burden that weighed heavily upon you.

"Just drop it, JJ," you snapped, the sharpness in your tone piercing the air before you softened slightly. "Look, it's fine. I'm fine. I don't need you to worry about me," you asserted, your voice tinged with assertiveness, a shield against the vulnerability you were struggling to conceal.

Your conflicting emotions towards JJ added tension to the already strained atmosphere between you both since the disagreement. His expression fell, a mixture of frustration and helplessness clouding his features. The sense of hopelessness at breaking through to you battled against his stubborn determination.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's going on," JJ declared firmly, a steadfast insistence in his voice despite the emotional barriers that stood between you. He refused to yield, driven by concern and an unshakeable loyalty, even in the face of your resistance.

"JJ—" you began, interrupted as he pressed on, his voice filled with earnestness and concern.

"I mean it, Y/n. You're my best friend, I care about you, you know?" JJ's words were laden with sincerity, a heartfelt plea cutting through the tension between you both. His genuine worry overshadowed any remnants of the past disagreement. "Look, you can be as mad at me as you want for what happened before, but all I care about right now is making sure that you're okay, which clearly you're not, despite lying to my face that you are."

His words were a plea for honesty and a testament to the depth of his concern, revealing a vulnerability that mirrored the genuine care he held for you. Despite the rift between you, JJ's unwavering loyalty and concern for your well-being remained steadfast, urging you to drop the facade and confide in him.

You sighed, finally relenting to JJ's unwavering determination. "Rafe told me he loved me last night," you blurted out quickly, the confession tumbling out of you, your throat tightening with the weight of the admission. "It came out of nowhere, and I-I couldn't say it back, JJ. Sure, I've spent all this time with him and played this game for you guys, but I have to draw the line at that, right? I can't play with somebody's heart like that."

Your words carried the burden of guilt and conflict, the turmoil you had been grappling with now laid bare. The abrupt confession revealed the emotional turmoil you faced, torn between loyalty to your friends and the moral dilemma of toying with someone's feelings. The complexity of the situation weighed heavily on you, leaving you in a state of emotional disarray.

"Do you love him?" JJ's question, posed quietly and almost feebly, pierced the charged air between you. His piercing blue eyes searched yours, seeking some semblance of an answer, any hint of truth hidden within. You hesitated, grappling with the weight of JJ's inquiry. The intensity in his gaze demanded honesty, yet the answer seemed elusive, lost amidst the tangled web of emotions within you. A moment of silence stretched as you wrestled with the turmoil in your heart, struggling to articulate a response to JJ's poignant question.

"I... I can't answer that," you replied, your gaze faltering and drifting downward. The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, a confession that left JJ reeling with a tumult of emotions.

Your response struck JJ like a sudden blow, sending a sharp pang through his chest. The hesitation in your answer stirred an array of conflicting emotions within him. If you truly felt nothing for Rafe, the immediate response would have been a straightforward "no." Yet, the lingering uncertainty unsettled JJ deeply. He grappled with the notion that perhaps you harbored some sentiment for the person he considered an adversary, and the mere thought sickened him.

A battle waged within JJ, torn between self-reproach for inadvertently guiding you towards someone he deemed his enemy and an inexplicable ache that gnawed at his heart. The unexpected surge of emotions left him grappling with a sense of unease and turmoil he had never experienced before.

"You do love him," JJ stated flatly, answering for you, his voice devoid of its usual vibrancy. He gazed at you with an empty expression, his words falling heavily between you, laced with a tone of defeat and resignation. In that moment, you witnessed a look in JJ's eyes that shook you to the core—an almost tangible sense of his world crumbling around him, as if his entire essence was fractured.

"No, JJ, don't do this. I didn't choose this," you pleaded desperately, shaking your head in denial. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as a rush of emotions surged through you. Your voice trembled, quivering with the intensity of the feelings you struggled to contain. The sight of JJ's shattered demeanor pierced your heart.

"I know you didn't, Y/n. I'm not blaming you. You can't choose who you're in love with," JJ spoke softly, his tone carrying a compassionate understanding. His gaze lingered on you, as if lost in contemplation. His eyes traversed every contour of your face, observing your saddened yet undeniably beautiful features.

Internally, JJ admired you, silently acknowledging the depth of your emotions and the complexities of your heart. He couldn't help but think about how fortunate Rafe was to have someone like you who cared so deeply. Amidst the turmoil, a pang of longing tugged at JJ's heart, a desire for a similar kind of affection for himself. He contemplated the unspoken wishes and the intricate layers of emotions that lay beneath the surface of the moment.

"It doesn't matter now anyways, because I ruined it," you uttered through tearful sobs, your voice cracking with anguish. Looking up at JJ, your eyes reflected a profound sadness, a vulnerability laid bare for him to witness. "I should've said something else, I should've told him how much I care about him, I-"

"Shh, Y/n, it's okay," JJ cooed, enfolding you in a tender embrace, offering solace in the warmth of his arms. He planted a gentle kiss atop your head, a gesture of comfort amid the emotional turmoil. "You didn't ruin anything. Just give him some time right now. If he's as obsessed with you as half the guys on the island are, he's guaranteed to come crawling back," he remarked softly, his attempt at humor breaking through the somber moment. Despite the weight of the situation, JJ's attempt to lighten the mood offered a glimmer of relief, a touch of his familiar light-heartedness providing a brief respite from the heaviness of the emotions swirling between you.

Amidst a tearful laugh and a sniffle, you questioned, "Do you really think so?"

"I know he will. He'd be a fool not to," JJ reassured, mustering a weak smile despite the ache in his heart. His attempt to comfort you masked the sadness he felt within, his own emotions echoing the heartbreak of the moment. Gently, he ran his fingers through your hair as you nestled your head against his chest, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace. Slowly, you tried to regulate your breathing, the rise and fall of JJ's chest offering a calming rhythm in the midst of emotional turmoil.

"Thank you, Jay," you expressed, meeting the gaze of the blue-eyed boy with a small but genuine smile of gratitude. He reciprocated with a subtle hum, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your temple. The touch lingered briefly, as if savoring the warmth and softness of your skin.

"Feeling better?" JJ inquired softly, his concern palpable in the gentle tone of his voice as he sought assurance that his efforts had brought some comfort to your distress.

"Yeah, I do. I think I'm just gonna lay down for a few, though. Wasn't lying when I said I didn't get much sleep," you admitted with a faint smile, grateful for JJ's comforting presence but still in need of some time alone to gather your thoughts and emotions.

"Understood. Get all the sleep you need. I'll be out in the living room if you need me," JJ responded with a small laugh, offering you a reassuring smile before gently releasing you from his embrace, allowing you the space you sought.

Taking solace in the quiet and the solitude of the room, you nestled back into bed, relishing the opportunity to collect your thoughts in peace. In the stillness, you found yourself fixating on your phone lying on the nightstand, its screen a silent invitation. Contemplation wrestled with your impulses, a conflict raging within as the desire to mend things clashed with the looming prospect of potential regret. Despite the uncertainty, an eagerness to take action tugged at your thoughts, urging you to reach for the phone and potentially take a step you knew might carry consequences.

Despite the attempts to suppress the impulse, you found yourself disregarding the swirling doubts and uncertainties. Pushing past the "what-ifs" and potential repercussions, you finally yielded to your longing and reached for your phone, succumbing to your impulses.

"Y/n?" The husky familiarity of the voice on the other end of the line sent a surge of butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach, a mix of nervousness and anticipation flooding your senses.

"Rafe," you breathed out, mustering courage, "we need to talk."

"I don't know if that's a good idea right now," came his uncertain response.

"Please, Rafe. This is important. Just trust me," you urged, a note of desperation seeping into your voice, hoping to convey the gravity of the situation and the necessity of the conversation you felt compelled to have.

"Okay, yeah," you heard Rafe sigh on the other end of the line. "When and where?"

A small smile graced your lips at Rafe's willingness to consider your request. A glimmer of hope flickered within you, grateful for the opportunity to address matters. Internally, you felt a surge of gratitude for this chance to navigate the conversation that held such importance.

"I'll be at your house in twenty," you confirmed, decisive in your tone, setting the time and place for the conversation you knew held significant weight.

⎯

The drive to Rafe's house felt like an eternity, each passing second adding to the mounting anxiety that gripped your chest. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel as your mind played out a multitude of potential scenarios, each one more daunting than the last.

The scenarios were a relentless reel in your mind—what if Rafe had reconsidered everything? What if his feelings had shifted drastically overnight? The uncertainty of his response clawed at your thoughts, igniting a storm of doubts and fears that thundered through your mind.

The quiet road seemed to stretch endlessly, the passing streetlights casting fleeting shadows across your face as the weight of the impending conversation settled heavily upon you. You wrestled with the anticipation, the car's interior filled with a tense energy that mirrored the turmoil in your mind.

The worst-case scenarios seemed to play on a loop, painting vivid pictures of rejection and misunderstanding. Each imagined conversation left you breathless, contemplating how Rafe might react, fearing the possibility of shattered hopes and unspoken words left hanging between you.

Your heart raced in tandem with the passing mile markers, the quiet hum of the engine providing an eerie backdrop to the cacophony of doubts echoing within. The nervous anticipation clawed at your resolve, as you fought to steady your emotions and prepare for the conversation that lay ahead.

Approaching Rafe's front door felt like traversing a minefield of emotions. Every step echoed the thud of your heart, the gravity of the impending conversation adding weight to each movement. The crunch of gravel beneath your shoes seemed unusually loud, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside.

A lump formed in your throat, making it difficult to swallow as you stood at the threshold. The polished wood of the door seemed to stare back at you, a silent barrier between uncertainty and resolution. The porch light cast a warm, inviting glow, yet it did little to soothe the nerves that coiled within.

You hesitated, your hand hovering in mid-air, fingers inches away from the doorbell. An internal battle raged between eagerness and apprehension, the conflict etched upon your features as you grappled with the momentousness of the impending conversation.

The cool evening breeze brushed against your skin, causing a shiver to run down your spine, a physical manifestation of the nervousness that held you in its grip. Each heartbeat felt thunderous in the silence, amplifying the significance of this pivotal moment.

With a deep breath, you finally pressed the doorbell, the sound reverberating through the quiet night like an ominous bell tolling the onset of an uncertain exchange. The chime echoed, resonating in the hushed neighborhood, signaling the initiation of a conversation that held the weight of countless emotions and unspoken truths.

"Y/n," Rafe greeted, opening the door with a hint of hesitation evident in his expression. His gaze swept over you, assessing your presence with a mix of uncertainty and curiosity. "Come in, we can talk upstairs," he offered, gesturing for you to follow him into the house, the tension palpable in the air.

Ascending the stairs with Rafe, silence settled between you, allowing a moment for observation. Details of his home, once overlooked, now drew your attention—faint family portraits adorning the walls, the subtle scent of his familiar cologne lingering in the air, each detail offering a glimpse into his life beyond what you'd previously glimpsed.

Entering his room, Rafe motioned for you to go in first, a gesture that felt strangely significant. The creak of the door shutting behind you marked the transition into this private space, amplifying the weight of the impending conversation.

Rafe turned to face you, breaking the silence at last. "So, what's up?" he queried coyly, his demeanor masking any internal thoughts or emotions, leaving an air of uncertainty hanging between you.

"I do love you."

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols

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thehufflepuffavenger1 · 5 months

Text

The Grid Angel (2/?) M.V. x reader

Crash My Date 🌹

Max goes on a date with you but it gets crashed by some flirtatious drivers.

--------------------------------------------------

In the aftermath of the intense race weekend, the paddock settled into a brief respite before the next Grand Prix. The atmosphere was a mix of relief and anticipation, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the paddock, Max Verstappen found himself contemplating the next move in this off-track drama.

A quiet evening descended upon the team hospitality area. The clinking of glasses and subdued conversations provided the backdrop for Max's internal debate. He had successfully conquered the race, but a different kind of challenge loomed in his mind—one that involved the person who had become an unexpected focal point of his thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, Max approached you, who was engrossed in conversation with a few members of the pit crew. The air was charged with a mixture of tension and excitement as he cleared his throat to get your attention.

"Hey, Y/N," Max began, his usual confidence briefly replaced by a hint of nervousness. "I was wondering if you'd want to grab dinner with me tonight. Just the two of us."The pit crew, catching wind of the moment, discreetly observed from a distance, their eyes darting between Max and you. Your gaze met Max's, and a playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"Sure, Max. I could use a break from the technical chatter," you replied, a twinkle in your eyes. The pit crew exchanged triumphant glances, silently acknowledging the progress in this off-track saga.As the evening unfolded, Max and you found yourselves in a cozy restaurant away from the bustling paddock. The atmosphere was relaxed, and the conversation flowed effortlessly between discussions of racing strategies, memorable moments from the season, and snippets of personal anecdotes.

Max, usually a man of few words off the track, opened up in ways that surprised even himself. The barriers between driver and engineer dissolved, revealing the shared passion for the sport and the camaraderie that had developed over the course of the season.

Amidst the laughter and exchanged stories, Max mustered the courage to broach a more personal topic. "Hey Y/N- "

Before he could finish, the restaurant door swung open, and in walked a group of drivers, including Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, and Charles Leclerc. They spotted you and Max, and with mischievous grins, they decided to join the party.

"Hey, Y/N! Max! Mind if we crash your dinner?" Lando called out, his playful demeanor evident.The pit crew, who had already been planning to go to dinner at the same restaurant, sensing the shift in dynamics, exchanged amused glances, realizing that the evening was about to take an unexpected turn.

As Lando, Carlos, and Charles pulled up chairs, they seamlessly transitioned from friendly banter to playful flirting, each vying for your attention with exaggerated tales of their own racing exploits. Max, caught off guard, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his attempt at a serious confession now veering into the territory of an unexpected comedy.

Despite the unexpected intrusion, the atmosphere remained light-hearted. Laughter echoed through the restaurant, and the lines between competition and camaraderie blurred. As the night progressed, Max found himself not only navigating the complexities of relationships but also the unpredictability of a group of drivers determined to turn a quiet dinner into a lively spectacle.

The Grand Prix season continued its relentless pace, and as the night wound down, the pit crew watched with amusement and satisfaction. The dynamics within the team had taken yet another unexpected turn, leaving them eagerly anticipating the next chapter in this off-track drama.

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@itsjustkhaos

#f1 #thehufflepuffavenger1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #lando norris #ferrari #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz #itsjustkhaos

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skzcollision · 11 months

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churchboy!felix x afab!reader (1/7)

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genre: fluff, eventual smut, teen angst

synopsis: certain expectations come with being a pastor’s daughter. in everyone’s eyes you are a properly behaved girl, albeit rather timid. according to your parents, you aren’t as devoted to the church as you should be. they entrust you to an old family friend’s son, deeming him to be a good influence. these circumstances bring you two closer together and stir up all kinds of emotions.

MINORS DNI

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It has been a good four months since you began doing these bible readings together.

You have built a genuine friendship over that time and despite dreading these meet ups at first, you found yourself looking forward to seeing Felix more each and every time. He makes it easy for you.

He knows how difficult it is for you to keep from nodding off during those sermons and bible studies; he knows that you do not enjoy church.

So to make things a little more pleasant for you, he lets you choose the time and place for these bible readings. He brings you snacks and he doesn’t mind when you veer off topic every once in a while.

Felix has created a comfortable space for you, not just spiritually, but in general. It’s inevitable that you start catching feelings for him. You have always found him physically attractive. After all, he is the main reason why you have perfect attendance at church.

But you enjoy the way he teases you, the way he is so sweet with you, and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You love the smatterings of freckles across his face, you love the weird shit he says randomly out of nowhere and the way he is himself with you, and vice versa; you love just about everything about him.

So it is a disappointment when you plan a picnic with him this time and he makes it a point to sit a good few feet away from you.

You suppose it is your fault, as you have been dressing a little too provocatively for bible readings lately and last time when you were watching a movie together, you sat a little too close to his lap.

The thought that you could have possibly ruined things with him and made him uncomfortable breaks your heart.

“Felix,” you say, fingers dragging across the soft flannel. “Come sit closer, you’re hardly even on the blanket.”

He glances up at you over his bible, then pulls his gaze away, shaking his head. “Thanks, I’m fine here.”

A sigh leaves your mouth. “Did I do something?” Your eyes trace the pattern of the blanket, fingers playing with the frills of your skirt.

“Hey,” Felix’s voice is closer now, causing you to look up. He is leaning forward on his hands, eyes earnest. “Of course not.”

“Then why are you sitting so far from me?”

He pulls away and it is silent for a while. All you hear is the soft crashing of waves against the shore and a seagull in the distance. “No reason.” Felix clears his throat. “Can we get back to–“

“Are you afraid that I’ll pounce on you?”

Heat flickers in his gaze, but it is for a short moment—as if you had only imagined it. He’s good at hiding. Maybe even better than you.

“W- What?” His breathing sounds heavier now. “No, why would you…”

“I won’t, okay?” You shuffle closer to him, keeping your eyes locked. “I won’t, so, please… can we sit closer?”

His tongue flicks out to wet his dry lips and you see his Adam’s apple bob. “Okay.” With hesitation, Felix moves in closer to you. “Is this better?” You were both sitting side by side like you usually did.

“Closer?” You almost squeak out, hands clammy against your lap.

“Wha- closer? How close?” There’s panic in his voice now and you feel that if you don’t do anything he will run away from you right this second.

So you let your instincts drive you and you bury your head into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. You breathe in the oaky scent of his aftershave and the florals of his fabric softener.

A yelp leaves him, but he doesn’t push you away, and instead freezes up against you. Your name rolls out of his mouth clumsily. “W- We can’t do this here.”

“Sorry,” after a moment, you loosen your grip on him and you lift your head to look at his face.

You believe yourself to be just as flushed as him, the tips of his ears pink. It takes everything you have to not smother him again.

Felix says your name again, softly this time. “Don’t be sorry.” You only realize now that the hand on the small of your back has not left and your heart skips even faster than it is already; you’re scared that he can hear it.

“Please,” your voice is hushed, hardly audible. “Let’s just hold each other.” You slide your leg over his, and your arms take their place around his waist again. “It’s just us here. No one will know.”

Felix gulps. “God knows.”

But he lets you hold him anyway. And he holds you too.

⭒

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#lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz felix #skz smut #stray kids #skz fanfic #lee felix fluff #skz fluff

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mayariviolet · 1 month

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Daddy Lessons

dad! Reiner x Reader

summary: “With his right hand on his rifle, he swore it on the Bible, Oh my daddy said shoot!” // Some of Reiner's life lessons for your children. Specifically for your daughter.

cw: established relationships & family dynamics, mentions of guns, fluff (?), light angst, Reiner is just a good dad, guys!

a/n: Inspired by that Beyoncé song! Duh! Also, on ao3.

wc: ~2k

For the most part, Reiner is the quintessential gentle giant and an overprotective dad. There is no way in hell his children would ever get hurt, physically or emotionally, regardless of whatever gender identity your child chooses.

But when he found out that you two were expecting a daughter, he felt a wave of both excitement and anxiety. As your little family grew, Reiner dove straight into fatherhood without hesitation. He would introduce your daughter to his interests: blackjacks and classic vinyls while also allowing her to find strength in femininity. Learning how to respect her rules at the tea parties Reiner was so graciously invited to. Making sure that she listened to the smartest women he knew (you) amongst other things. He aimed to raise a strong, confident, and compassionate young woman. Granted, this got your daughter into some sticky situations at school regarding fighting bullies, but the only things that Reiner would ask when he picked her up from detention were:

“Did they deserve it?” And if she nodded yes, the most important follow-up question would be, “Did you win?”

You didn’t condone violence in any form, but you’d be lying if there wasn’t a swelling in your chest when she said that she won.

Reiner was acutely aware that he could never fully understand the trials and tribulations of being a woman. Babysitting Gabi and her gaggle of friends showed him that. However, he did try his best to warn your daughter about horrible men (something that his many years of playing recreational hockey made abundantly clear) and things to be cautious about. Reiner often looked down upon locker room talk and cringed at how some of his old teammates carried it so casually in their everyday colloquialisms- with Floch being the worst of it.

Sure, he knew your daughter would grow up and start dating one day. He understood that he couldn’t vet every single person she’d dated. Reiner sure as hell knew that you two were more than capable of teaching her how to protect her heart while also keeping an open mind. But he felt obligated to teach your kids how to court a person properly. He instilled some lessons: flowers, gifts for the parents, staying a little longer at invited parties to help clean.

So when your daughter brought home a new boyfriend, Reiner tried to accept that his little girl wasn’t his little girl anymore. By now, she was mature enough to approach Reiner and you for any advice. However, Reiner couldn’t shake this feeling that her new boyfriend was nothing more than a grade-a-loser—something he would always bring up to you as soon as your daughter's boyfriend left the house. Reiner tried to like him the first few months, but his interaction with people never sat right in his spirit.

Quite frankly, you agreed that your daughter’s boyfriend is slightly off-putting and over-compensating with bravado. It did nothing more than hide the stench of insecurity he secreted. But the way your daughter’s eyes lit up whenever she had the opportunity to talk about her boyfriend (albeit praising the bare minimum he did occasionally) made it challenging to deter her.

However, in the quiet moments, you attempted personal discussions with your daughter about ‘keeping her options open’ and ‘not settling too quickly.’ Hoping to prevent countless similar dating disasters before you were blessed with Reiner’s love. But when her cheeks started reddening with annoyance, and the conversations started to veer towards debates, you and Reiner decided to drop the topic altogether, much to your dismay.

When ‘the boyfriend’ took space in your well-loved home, Reiner would go so far as to start openly talking about how he owns several rifles, although being a ranch owner and hunter gave that away. It also had a sign that said, “God Lives Here,” courtesy of Karina and begrudgingly endorsed by your mom, predominantly hung on the gallery wall amongst the family portraits. This was a subtle but all too loud declaration to any potential visitors.

Of course, he’d be courteous- never outright told your daughter’s boyfriend that he’s a jackass. But he kept a mental note of every slight, all noticed and usually brought up by you. The first red flag was that the young man didn’t even greet you two at the door, not even a halfway smile! Just a bee-line to your daughters' bedroom up the stairs and to the right.

The second was that, after two years of dating, he never gave either of you two a Christmas card. What was more irritating was that your daughter never missed an opportunity to provide the Forster’s individualized presents, no matter the occasion.

The third and less obvious one was how he spoke about other girls when you or your daughter weren’t around. Reiner didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the way that scrub spoke about women- and to his son, no doubt!- made Reiner consider installing an electric invisible fence where his stupid pickup truck usually parked.

“Love, please just drop it. Maybe he’s just tired,” you’d whisper in the kitchen while fervently rubbing his arm.

“Fine. But if he stays here another night—Forster’s kid is paying for the water bill. How many showers can he take and still smell!” Reiner let out an exasperated sigh before addressing your son. “Listen to me, if you wanna impress whoever’s parents you’re dating, don’t be like your sister’s boyfriend. That kid is a dunce.”

You shoot Reiner a cautionary glare while urging your son to continue his homework and keep in mind what Reiner said.

“Look, love, I think we’ve taught our children well enough that if anything happens, they’re capable of handling things. They will come to us when they need it.” You say and soothingly brush away some of his hair.

Reiner eases his stance a little, uncrossing his arms and wraps one around your waist. He kisses your temple and gives you a small smile. The crow's feet from the luxury of living a life getting deeper as he looks down at you. The sounds of farewells break apart the moment between you two.

He peers through the archway before turning back to you. “I’m going to talk to her once he leaves,” he says.

“Don’t overdo it!”

Reiner gives you another quick kiss, his five o’clock shadow rubbing against your cheek; before he leaves the room, Reiner pours a small glass of whisky and a cup of tea to bring to the front porch.

“Good luck, Dad,” your son says, giving Reiner a thumbs-up. Reiner returns the gesture and gives him a wink. Reiner maneuvered through the front room before taking a seat on the front porch. A creaky door and a clink of the mesh screen announced his arrival- causing your daughter and her boyfriend to jolt and look up at Reiner’s imposing frame.

He nods in acknowledgement before trying to look casual and not eavesdrop on the heated but whispered conversation in the driveway. The cicadas begin their choir singing as Reiner makes himself comfortable placing his drinks on the wooden coffee table. Your daughter’s usual smile is replaced with an apathetic expression as she waves her boyfriend goodbye, choosing to make her way up the stairs instead of electing to see him off until his headlights disappear into obscurity.

“Have a good night, kid,” Reiner waves and sips his drink.

“You too, Reiner. I’ll tell Dad you said hi.”

What absolute nerve this young man has not even to call Reiner ‘Mr. Braun!’ That is the bare minimum!

“Floch is almost always welcome here. You two, come stop by now!” Reiner bites his tongue and tries to remain composed.

Over his dead body, would Reiner let that helmet-headed freak Floch visit his ranch, but he had to pretend for your sake. Even if you also agree that Floch was definitely the reason his son is the way that he is. As her boyfriend pulls out of the gravelled driveway, your daughter plops a seat next to Reiner on the sun-bleached fabric couch. Reiner gives another halfway wave before letting his smile fall when the truck is no longer in sight.

“Congratulations on getting into your dream school sweetheart.” He takes a sip from his whiskey-infused tea.

“Thanks, Daddy.” Your daughter smiles but keeps her head down, tucking her feet into the couch cushions to shield her from the cool summer breeze. “I’m really excited,” she hums, conveying no other particular emotion. Reiner takes this as an opportunity to say his peace and clutches the ceramic mug tighter.

“You know, you’re a smart kid- You should think about YOUR future.”

She sighs heavily, “Dad-”

Reiner raises a hand to finish his thought: “I know, I know. But let me say what I need to say. I want you to be smart, independent, and—” He grabs your daughter’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze: “Baby girl, that boy is playing you.”

“Daddy!” Your daughter groans and rolls her eyes, knowing this conversation all too well. She sinks further into the couch. “Please!”

“I don’t plan on dying any time soon—but remember what I said about fighting?” he asks, never letting his gaze break away from the delicate dance of the sun and moon across the horizon.

“It’s my Second Amendment,” she mutters, picking at the dry skin on her thumb.

“Exactly.” Reiner let her hand go, pouring more whiskey into his tea, “You are a tough girl. That’s why this is the last time I will ever bring this up. I promise.”

“Okay.”

The cicadas are screaming a little louder. Reiner and your daughter enjoy the sunset on the front porch. His gaze follows the creamsicle-coloured sunset, which disappears behind the rolling fields. Your voice cuts the silence, urging Reiner and your daughter to enter. “Love, your potatoes are done! Come inside so we can finish plating dinner!”

Reiner slowly gets up from his wicker chair, his calloused hands opening the creaking door. “Come on—I also made your favourite.”

Your daughter doesn’t move, instead looking out to where the sun once was. “Come on, baby girl. You know how your brother gets.” Reiner softly urges.

“Daddy, he cheated on me. I-” she choked on her words, “I don’t know what to do.”

Reiner softly closes the door. From the corner of his eyes, he can finally see the steady stream of tears cascading from her eyes.

“Reiner! Hurry, please!”

“One-second love!” He calls out to you, “I’m sorry, baby girl.” Reiner thumbs your daughter's tears away before roughing up her hair.

Almost as if you sensed a shift in the air, you urge your son to help with dinner instead- much to his dismay. After two minutes of whining, the sound of an oven door closing and plates replace your son’s protests. Your daughter's sniffles fill the air, and the aroma of dinner mingles with it. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” Reiner glances halfway before patting his pant pocket down in search of something. The depths of his muddy denim work pants rattling.

“Daddy what are you doing?”

“Good. I have my keys.”

“For what?”

Reiner throws his keys to your daughter. “You have your license?”

“Yeah? I drive to school everyday?”

“Not that one.”

As if she finally understood what Reiner was saying, her lips curled into a little smile.“You don’t have to go out and fight.”

“It’s my Second Amendment.”

Reiner nods before turning back to the door. As he’s about to enter the house she runs up to him giving a tight hug. He pulls her into a warm embrace and waves her goodbye. Your daughter rushes to the red pickup truck with anticipation. Reiner feels a swelling in his chest that only his little family could ever elicit.

He grabs the now-empty cups and heads inside the house, kicking off his outdoor shoes at the entrance and changing into his slippers. When Reiner enters the kitchen, he rinses and places the cups in the sink to be washed later. Sounds of the truck engine starting and a slamming door snap you away from the conversation with your son.

“Is she not going to eat dinner?”

“She has an errand to run—just to check something out.” He pulls out his chair and gives your son a little pinch on the cheek. “Let’s say grace."

a/n: I LOVE DAD REINER SO MUCH! When I heard this song again for the first time in years, this was all I could think about. Okay! Time to finish this chapter for First Love/Late Spring, which I might push back the release date to Saturday because I worked sm overtime this week and I’m feeling tired >.<

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#reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x y/n #dad reiner braun #attack on titan #modern au aot #reiner braun x you #aot x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun fluff #light angst #attack on titan one shot #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfic #mv.writing📝

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sleepiexx · 8 months

Note

Valeria Garza x fem reader. Reader and Valeria were once lovers until one day she disappeared and a few years later on a mission to capture El Sin Nombre the reader finds out what she has been doing all this time.

Back When I Loved You

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Link to Pt.2

Note: so sorry this took like for-fucking-ever, I’ve been working so fucking much I never write anymore 😭😭 I’m so glad I got this done, I needed to write this. Also, I switched to y/n instead of (Y/N) bc I did a survey and it said most ppl prefer y/n, tell me if u think that’s dumb

Summary: It’s been years since y/n had been stationed in Las Almas, returning opens some old wounds she hadn’t realized never healed.

Warnings: death mention (no one actually dies), soap is a slut, uhhh not much else rlly

Word Count: 3345

Quite a peculiar phenomenon, “the one that got away.” The idea of an old flame that was never allowed to fully ignite and crackle into something beautiful, never quite coming to fruition. The kind of love that leaves you wondering what could have been had circumstances been different, desperately yearning for even the slightest taste of something more.

The topic came up one day as the task force sat around at a bar drinking, waiting for the assignment that they would inevitably have the next day. It started as Gaz recounted the story of how he met a girl before graduation and fell madly for her. Their story ends there with the fact that the moment Gaz realized how he had felt for her, he was being shipped off to boot camp, never to see his lost love ever again. He spoke of how deeply he regretted not pursuing a relationship with her, and how every time he goes home to visit his mother, a tiny part of him hopes to see her again.

Soap went next. Lord knows the man had many, many regrets and many stories regarding his love life, yet one took president in his mind. “She had the softest skin,” he had said, story veering off the main point and getting caught up on the details as it had nearly a million times, once about her hair, three times about her eyes, and now about how “baby soft” her skin was. Eventually— with a little pushing from the others— he told the full story, how he was on vacation, a rarity for him, and how he’d hit it off with this woman. Usually with his one night stands, it was purely sexual, no emotional connection whatsoever. Yet this time, Soap had found himself enchanted. After what he described as a “magical” night, she’d disappeared, and he never got the chance to give her his number.

“What about you, old timer, I’m sure you’ve got an old flame who escaped ya’,” Soap beamed, turning the conversation towards Price who smiled and nodded fondly to himself.

“She was-“ he sighed, “well, she was something.” No matter what he did, he couldn’t escape the smile that creeped up his cheeks as he told the story. A kind lover, she was. Made him breakfast in the mornings, listened as he complained about work— he was just a Lieutenant back then, but she listened. And she was always there. Until she wasn’t. The Captain’s story ever so slowly changed from happily reminiscing and took on a much more somber tone as Price recounted the fighting that led up to his break up with the woman. He had been coming up on the end of his contract with the British Army and she had wanted him to stay with her, start a family, but Price had been in the military for a long time. He had no clue what life would even be like outside of the Army. And so he reenlisted. He spoke about how deeply he regretted that, how there were nights that he woke up and just imagined how his life could have panned out had he stayed with her. Would he be awoken by their kids pouncing up and down on him, rather than the ever-present nightmares he gets as his current wake up call? He would never know, and that would haunt him to this day.

Price took a big swig of whiskey at the melancholy thought, turning the attention toward y/n, “What about you, kid? You’re still young, hopefully no sad stories yet?”

Y/n shook her head, “I don’t see it as sad, more so I see it as I’m happy I got that experience. Yeah I’m upset that it never went anywhere but I’m glad that it happened period.” She smiled, happy with her answer but the others stared on with shocked looks. “What?” She asked.

Soap’s eyes were wide, “Well you can’t just say all o’ that and then just not tell us the story.” He shook his head, flabbergasted, “We all told you, save for Ghost but the man’s already very private, so now it’s your turn.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “yeah, yeah,” she took a sip of her drink, a little liquid courage to help loosen the story out of herself, “I was stationed in Mexico for some time. Beautiful country, beautiful people, I loved every second of it. Every night I would go out with my American buddies on the town and we would just fuck around, have some fun. Well one night I’d gotten separated, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe they ditched me, I don’t know, we don’t really talk anymore so I don’t think I ever will. But anyways, as you do when you’re drunk and alone, I found trouble. Some man came up to me with a knife, tried to rob me, I was really in no state to fight back, but in comes this woman to defend me. I’d seen her around the base before, she was Mexican Special Forces, I knew that. I also knew how goddamn hot she was. With her tattoos running all up and down her toned arms, and how enchanting her deep brown eyes were.”

The team immediately got chatty at that, hyping her up. “L/n with the moves,” one of them had teased. She laughed, feeling blood pumping in her face.

“So anyways, she jumps in and fights the guy for trying to rob me while I was so drunk. I was absolutely slack-jawed. I’d never had anyone fight so fiercely for me in my life, especially not a stranger, and even more especially not a stranger I had a huge crush on. I remember her turning to me, once the dude was down for the count and just saying ‘you okay?’ I can remember her exact tone and god, it made me melt. She walked me back to my barracks and I was done for. The very next day I sought her out and told her I’d buy her a drink to make up for it. Thus started an epic romance.”

Y/n grinned as the others piped in with their little comments, excited to finally get to talk about her lost love after all this time.

“For months we went out together, dancing, talking, drinking, everything else that comes along with a relationship,” she smirked at that, face only dropping as she got the ‘getting away’ part, “and, uh, we were happy, y’know. I could see myself having a future with this woman. But as life has it, I was stationed elsewhere while she had been on a mission. I tried calling the base a few times.” She stopped to collect her breath, “but, uh, I was told that her and her squad went MIA on that mission. Likely killed in action is what they said.”

She sniffled a little bit, hoping it was unnoticeable by her teammates. Shaking her head as she finished her drink, and began to stand she turned to them for a final time, “I’m gonna turn in for the night it’s getting late.”

The rest of them nodded, waiting until she was gone to quietly chat amongst themselves. She was the topic of choice, of course. How bad they all felt for her. How guilty they felt for bringing it up. Ultimately it wasn’t their fault but they felt awful. Not too long after, they themselves all turned in, awaiting what the next day would have for them.

Months later, after many missions, and after the conversation they had had slipped away from them, the task force found themselves on their way to Mexico in search of the infamous cartel leader, El Sin Nombre. No one dared to mention y/n’s past, but of course, they weren’t completely discreet with their fleeting looks.

Despite their knowledge of y/n’s deployment to a base in Mexico, they were still shocked to see that the Colonel as well as some of the soldiers of the Las Almas base knew her.

“Y/n! Long time no see, last I saw you, you were still just a private.” Colonel Alejandro Vargas said, patting her on the shoulder in greeting as the group got off their chopper.

Y/n smirked, “could say the same to you. Wonder who died and made Lieutenant Vargas into the colonel of the Mexican Special Forces.”

Alejandro rolled his eyes and went to counter, but the man next to him made himself known with a contagious laugh. The task force could see sparkles in y/n’s eyes at the sound.

“Rudy!” She shouted, happily enveloping the giggly man into a hug.

“Hi, y/n.” He smiled, hugging her back just as tight.

In the midst of it all, Captain Price couldn’t help but clear his throat to get the group’s attention. “I hate to break this up,” he said, thick British drawl dragging out every word, “but we really do have some pressing matters to take care of.”

Y/n and Rodolfo split, standing at attention. Alejandro spoke for them, “you are right, there will be plenty of time to catch up once this is all over.”

They each nodded in agreement, eager to get to the task at hand.

It was no easy feat. Despite not really keeping up with the news in Las Almas since she had been gone, y/n knew just how bad cartels could get. That paired with the frustration that seemed to radiate from Alejandro every time El Sin Nombre was mentioned, he had to be some bad, bad motherfucker.

Soap went in under no guise or cover, walking right up to the front door and presenting himself like meat to hungry wolves. Y/n and Alejandro, on the other hand, terminated nearly half a dozen cartel soldiers, stealing their masks and outfits to fit right in to the party.

They surveilled Soap throughout, following closely behind, making sure no actual cartel soldiers noticed him. They followed him right to the third floor, right to El Sin Nombre. When the name Valeria left Soap’s mouth after looking through the snake cam, y/n and Alejandro made eye contact, both feeling a similar nausea at the thought.

But they shook it off.

It couldn’t possibly be her, right? She died on a mission targeting the son of La Araña, didn’t she? Sure she was officially determined MIA but a person doesn’t get lost this long, not like this.

Sure enough, as the door burst open, through the hail of bullets being shot across the room both to and from cartel higher ups, there she was.

The shock was evident on y/n’s face as she saw the woman kneeling on the roof. She saw short, dark hair and shook. It’s not her, it can’t be her. But it was. She could tell by the dark eyes carefully watching her every move as she walked behind the woman, pulling her hands down around the woman’s body and behind her back to cuff them.

Y/n prayed the woman couldn’t feel the tremor in her hands, but she knew all too well. Once upon a time the dark-haired woman knew every detail about her, it almost seemed as though that hadn’t changed.

Few words were uttered on the chopper back to the Vaquero’s base— save for a few “shut up Graves,”’s since the man refused to stop talking all smug, as though he was the sole reason El Sin Nombre had finally been caught— but a million things went unsaid as y/n avoided the Vaqueros’ gazes. The rest of the 141 were none the wiser to the fleeting looks that the Vaqueros shared.

The waiting period was long and drawn out as the woman was processed. Of course she had to have her prints and DNA taken, it’s never as simple as getting to talk to her first.

The anticipation was getting to y/n, who was anxiously chewing her nails down to the beds, leaving them jagged and slightly bloody.

The door clicked open, catching the room’s attention, “She’s been fully processed, whenever you’re ready you may begin the interrogation.” The soldier in the doorway stepped aside, clearing the path for the 141, the Colonel, and his second in command to pass.

They walked swiftly and with precision as they borderline-prowled their way down to the storage container that held the woman. Price took the lead as y/n and Alejandro fell behind, dragging their feet. Rudy followed behind the two, making sure neither avoided the inevitable.

Graves was the first to open his mouth, gesturing to both Alejandro and Valeria, “explain how you two know each other?”

Words, glares, and taunts were exchanged as they began the story.

“Go on, tell them.” Alejandro commanded.

Valeria scoffed, “I don’t take orders anymore, even the dogs in Las Almas know not to bark at me.” Valeria’s eyes caught y/n’s hesitant form as she spoke the last part.

Alejandro angrily shook his head, “she’s ex-military, we served together.”

Despite their distances, and their long time apart, the two shared a perfect flow when telling the story.

“Different squads, same unit.” Valeria began, “you were the wild ones, huh? Los Vaqueros.”

Alejandro grinned at her words.

Her gaze once more shifted to y/n, “my squad was clean cut señoras y señores.”

“Until the raid on the son of La Araña,” Valeria smirked at the sentence, Alejandro continued. “Her team was told to cordon of the city to ward off La Araña’s enforcers and prevent the bloodshed.”

“That’s exactly what we did,” she smiled.

Alejandro’s anger only spiked at her smug face, “What, you kept out his enforcers because you were his enforcers, eh?”

Her voice was taunting, “he was escorted to the mountains without incident, also to prevent bloodshed.”

Y/n felt her stomach turn. All the time she spent sobbing over Valeria and yet all the while the woman was running around doing all sorts of illegal activities.

Rudy piped in, almost as shocked at the realization as y/n, “he was supposed to go to prison.”

Graves grabbed Valeria’s shoulder, pulling her back, and further pissing off y/n. “So you killed him. And you took over.”

“I created a power vacuum, and I filled it. Las Almas needs me.”

The moment his hands looked as though they were about to wander, y/n was upset, nearly growling out a rage-filled “hands off.”

Graves lifted his hands off of the woman as if he’d been burned, holding them up. “Woah, woah, woah. What’s with you getting all feisty over the prisoner?”

Y/n just glared, gaze unmoving.

“Holy shit,” Gaz whispered, glancing between y/n and Valeria, “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Y/n’s eyes softened in confusion, turning her attention to Gaz, “Pardon?”

The rest of the team seemed to come to the same realization as him, moments before he spoke, “Her. She’s Her. You said you had a romance with a soldier while stationed in Mexico, a soldier who went missing. With what Alejandro said, the stories line up, Valeria is the woman you were in love with, isn’t she?”

Y/n broke eye contact, slightly embarrassed, still enraged, altogether hot in the face as she stared at the floor. “Yeah,” she admitted hesitantly, “yeah, it’s her.”

Valeria’s eyes were stuck to her down-trodden form, smirking at the fact that she now knew; y/n had talked about her. Y/n talked about her to her team. A sweet little thought.

“Nothing to be ashamed about,“ Valeria spoke cockily, “you sure weren’t ashamed of it when we were in love.”

When we were in love.

The words stung. The wound was old, yet here it had been ripped open as if it had happened mere days ago.

“Yeah, well that was before you left me to join the cartel.”

Valeria scoffed, “Join it? Please, I fucking run it. Besides, I think you forget that you’re the one who left.”

As the tension rose between the former lovers, the atmosphere in the room became rather awkward. The 141, the Vaqueros, and the few Shadows who were in the room sat staring dumbly at each other, wondering just how long they should let this go on

“You wanna go there? As I recall, you left weeks before I was deployed on what I thought was a mission. Turns out you went off with your little druggie friends to play gangster. I called the base a million times, they told me you were dead!”

Valeria stood from her seat abruptly, causing everyone else in the room to reach for their guns. Neither y/n, nor Valeria stood down. Y/n gestured for the others to leave the room, they hesitated but eventually followed her command. Now face to face, feeling each other’s breaths on their cheeks, the two seethed.

“I bet you would have liked that, huh?” Valeria started, eyes set into a deep glare, “me being dead would have made this so much easier for you, no loose ends.”

If y/n didn’t know any better, she would think this was Valeria trying to get y/n to kill her, death before snitching after all. But y/n knew her, knew suicide wasn’t her calling. This wasn’t a plead for death, this was a challenge. Fuck with me, I dare you.

Y/n’s lips turned downward into a gritty scowl. Even through her anger, tears managed to slip their way through her glaring eyes at the thought of her ever wanting Valeria dead.

“Never.” She whispered, voice cracking, “I cried every night for you for months, Valeria. I loved you so much, god, I still fuckin’ do.”

She reached into her shirt, pulling out two sets of dog tags and gripping tightly onto one of them. The ones she held, Valeria knew very well. They matched the ones she kept tucked under her shirt. An old pair that she had given to y/n way back when; they were the ones she was issued as a sergeant, before she reached lieutenant status and received the ones she currently wore all these years later.

And all at once, Valeria felt her heart shatter.

All these years she had spent letting her anger toward y/n fester and grow, thinking she had just abandoned her. All these years and yet all the while, y/n was devastated. They told y/n she died. Y/n thought she was dead. Y/n mourned her, cried for her, hurt for her. And here was Valeria, yelling at her.

She softened her stiff posture, cautiously reaching out for y/n. Valeria cupped y/n’s cheek, and for a while they just sat there like that. Time passed but it felt like nothing compared to the eternity they had missed together. Y/n finally looked up. In one fell swoop, Valeria crashed her lips to y/n’s

The kiss was all consuming, destroying any distractions in its path as the lovers made up for lost time. Caution was thrown to the wind with neither girl worried about their positions and duties. In this kiss they were not El Sin Nombre nor Sergeant l/n, they were just lovers. Just Valeria and y/n, reunited.

What felt like a million hours were lost in each other’s lips. As they separated, Valeria’s eyes opened, y/n’s stayed shut. Valeria stared, waiting for y/n to reveal her gorgeous eyes, yet when the moment finally came, it hurt. Y/n’s eyes shined with sorrow, something Valeria could see very clear.

Valeria tried to reach forward, but y/n stepped back, clearing her throat, “this,” she sighed deeply, fighting internally with herself, “this cannot happen again.”

She turned her back toward Valeria, knowing it would be too hard to look her in the eyes. Knowing she would lose all composure and fold. But she stayed strong, and in a few short steps, she was out of the room.

#call of duty fanfic #valeria garza #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza x reader #valeria x reader #valeria cod #valeria garza cod #call of duty valeria #valeria x fem!reader #call of duty x reader

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incorrectbatfam · 2 years

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any damian and tim bonding headcannons? since dc is utterly set on making them hate each other urgh

Once in a while Tim likes to knock Damian down a peg by reminding him he already discovered Batman and Robin's identity while Damian was in diapers

Damian showed up to Tim's room on a random Saturday afternoon. It took some prodding to figure out the petting zoo got a new goat, but the adults were busy and he wasn't accustomed to asking for "frivolous" things like that

Damian: "Do you have games on your phone?"

Tim, handing Damian his phone: "No"

Pet photoshoots are one thing, but consider: pet music videos

Damian is jealous of how the law keeps him from doing things meanwhile Tim has freedom as an emancipated minor. Tim responds by saying "haha loser"

Tim is in Camp "If you ruin Damian's excitement I'll frame you for tax fraud 4 months from now"

Tim's playlist gets put through the Damian Test, which is like Rotten Tomatoes except Damian plays it for Titus to see how he reacts. Tim has a solid 22% approval rate

Damian's a vegetarian but he'll still fight Tim over the wishbone

Damian stays inside with the dogs during Fourth of July fireworks. Tim swings by to drop a cup of hot chocolate and sneak his dirty laundry into Damian's hamper

Tim's favorite "-core" aesthetic is Microsoft Windows Landscape Screensaver Core. Damian's is Change Your Brother's Microsoft Windows Landscape Screensaver To A Lungfish Core

Tim let Damian drive home one night. Damian took two wrong exits, almost rear-ended a truck, and kept forgetting to use his blinker. When Tim said, "I thought you knew how to drive" Damian replied, "Yes. I never said I drove well. Come on, Drake, I can hardly reach the brakes" (Tim also had a small moment of being proud that Damian picked up his sense of humor)

Damian convinced Tim to chaperone his group on a class field trip to the harbor because Damian wanted to dig through the sludge for evidence on a case

When Damian tells him not to do something, that's when Tim stops and re-evaluates the kind of danger he's willing to put himself in

Tim's apartment was stocked with frozen pizza, coffee, Doritos, and Mountain Dew prior to moving in. Damian's housewarming gift was an apple

Damian occasionally peels and puts an orange on Tim's desk when he's gone too long without a snack

Unlike Dick, Tim doesn't censor himself around Damian, and unlike Jason, he doesn't avoid uncomfortable topics for the sake of not getting in trouble with Bruce. Thus, Tim taught Damian what the peach emoji actually means

Damian: "Drake, how do you like your egg?"

Tim: "Scrambled"

Damian: "Too bad. Pennyworth forbade me from cooking"

They veered from patrol on a side quest to try Jokerized seasoning on top of as many things as they could

Tim once napped through a Wayne Enterprises fire drill. He woke up to firefighters knocking at his window with Damian next to them making an L on his forehead

When Tim went off on a mission with Young Justice, Damian packed him a lunch box consisting of a loaf of bread, two 5-hour energy shots, a flash grenade, Cheese Viking band-aids, Damian's lucky pen, a fake ID, and a handwritten note saying "I'm stealing your pants. Don't expect them back"

#ask #anonymous #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #headcanon #tw food mention

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starryalpacasstuff · 4 months

Text

Last Twilight Ep 8; Thoughts

We're at the 2/3 mark of the show, and the episode honestly felt surreal. Last Twilight is continuing to parallel iconic moments of Bad Buddy, this time with running away and scenes on the beach. However, it never feels like it's boring or repetitive, because while the parallels are clear, the shows are also distinct. It's clear that the characters in the two shows are pushed by different things.

I was yelling at the screen when I realized Mhok and Day were going off on their own, because ditching Night = recipe for disater (he'd obviously call Day's mom!?!)

But then this happened, and I had to pause and take a moment, now that my fears had been resolved. We know so little about Night, and yet so much. Understanding his character requires a lot of reading in between the lines, and until we know what happened between the brothers, the picture won't be complete. I did, in fact, breathe a huge sigh of relief when I realized that Night was in on it, because while Mhok and Day are capable of handling themselves, if Day's mother found out, we all know that it wouldn't make for a pretty situation.

Which calls in something else I'm curious about. Is Day really naive enough to believe that they can ditch Night with no consequences? Or is there some trust left in Day, that Night will let them go. Has he figured that Night is likely in on it, and is choosing to remain quiet?

There's a number of possibilities, and I'm curious to see how it plays out. It's highly likely that his anxiousness to get away from Night, and trust in Mhok meant that the though simply hasn't crossed his mind too.

On that topic, if we rewind to the beginning of the ep

I just love how much Day trusts Mhok. It's obvious, but I felt it was worth pointing out. Mhok tells Day that there's no one there, and Day accepts. Mhok having played the caregiver role for Day for so long is definitely the main reason for this, and it's beautiful to watch.

Speaking of transparency in their relationship, can I take a moment to talk about just how much I loved this scene? Mhok was upset about the prank, and Day wasn't taking it seriously. Mhok could have clammed up, creating tension between the two. It would even be expected, given his role as Day's caretaker and the 'put Day first' mentality that we've seen so far. But he doesn't, and oh my god, this calls for aplause. He calls Day out on it, and gives Day a taste of his own medicine. And, this is something that perfectly shows that things are not the same now that they're boyfriends. Mhok gets more agency, more say, because he's one half of the relationship. I've said thia before about the subversion of faen fatale, and I'll say it again; Last Twilight has a very strong identity as a show, and a very strong grasp on what it's doing. Time and time again, it has shown us opportunities that it could have taken to create drama, and veered in the opposite direction entirely. The subversion is intentional, and clearly so.

While we're talking about characters standing up for their feelings..

I feel like someone should create a masterpost of everything we know about Night, and we can add on every bit of new info we get and compare it to the rest, because everything tells us so little yet so much. It seems that Night is still willing to push against Day's hatred. But of course, he's more willing to allow Day to live happily, as we see him letting the two go off on their own. It seems that every time Night does something for Day, he prefers to do it anonymously, such as showing up to the race. We've seen that he's accepted the villain image. Is this why he seems keen on upholding that villain image in front of Day, while helping him behind his back? P'Aof isn't one to write conflict for small or petty reason, so I'm starting to be more and more convinced that Night genuinely did something wrong to Day. He regrets it, but he also knows he can't take it back or heal their bond, so he's simply keeping the status quo, helping his brother behind his back, while only allowing himself to be selfish on occasion, like this one. I'm so intrigued by Night and his mannerisms, his actions.

Back tracking a bit again, (this is a mess)

This scene was a pivotal moment. I've previously mentioned that Day was living in a fantasy, and I've also briefly touched on Day's sence of normalcy in a post, how he was relying on things to go back to 'normal' and how he's been able to build a new normal with Mhok. He'd get the transplant eventually, and things would go back to 'normal'. Mhok helped Day redefine his 'normal', but the hope that his sight would return one day was still present. Here, it's shattered. Up till now, Day was living his life as if he were biding his time till he got his eyesight back. Now he's going to be living as if he has to wrap up a lifetime of memories in three months. He's feeling as though time is running out.

I think this is one of the first times I've seen Day talk back to his mom, which is fair, because it's ingrained in asian kids to not talk back to your elders. Day is, in the end, a rich kid. On top of that, he has a single mom. 1+1=2, Day didn't get to see much of his mom growing up. @waitmyturtles talked about this a bit in a post, mentioning how Day's mom's career always came first. She didn't have time to attend a game because she had an event, she couldn't come to school for something because she had a meeting, etc etc. (I don't know how much of an age gap there is between Day and Night, but anyone thinking that Night had to fill in on occasion..?) He's making a jab at his mom, that she's far to busy to be there with him for stuff, and she's far too overprotective to let another be there with him for it. Again, typical rich family dysfunction. Day and his mother's dynamic will be an interesting thing to watch as the episodes progress, that's for sure.

Alright, onto the last one

When I'm not sure if there's a deeper meaning behind a scene, music is always a great clue that there is something greater behind it. As episodes progress, we've seen Day slowly reassimilate himself in society. This is such an important theme, because being a part of and engaging with society is a huge part of asian culture. I view this dance as a sort of culmination of the progress that Day has made over time with Mhok. Would the Day at the beginning of the series have danced with a stranger at a party while having worse eyesight that before? No way in hell. Also, paying respect and interactling with older people is, again, a HUGE part of asian culture, so this was essentially the perfect way to depict this culmination. When the first episode had aired, @twig-tea had first introduced in a post the theme of liminality in Last Twilight. One of the definitions given was "of, relating to, or being an intermediate state, phase, or condition : IN-BETWEEN, TRANSITIONAL". Since Mhok entered Day's life, he's been in a liminal (transitional) state, as he moves closer to rejoing society. In this scene, we see what I'd like to say is the end of this liminal state. Of course, this isn't to say that Day is no longer in a state of liminality. Liminality presents itself in various ways throughout the show. This is simply a culmination of Day and Mhok's efforts to reintegrate Day into society. While the battle is far from over; disable people often find themselves outcasted and removed from society; it's a sign of hope, a sign of growth, a sign that their efforts have a result.

#every week these posts keep getting longer #and i dont know what to do about it #this show is brilliant #last twilight #last twilight the series #last twilight meta

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cupidseok · 6 months

Text

necklace of stars, waiting for you by the carousel

PAIRING eunseok x reader

SYNOPSIS eunseok remembers all of his past lives. when he finally found his lover, he was unfortunately robbed of their time together. eunseok then continues to live multiple more lives, always in search of his lover, hoping they’ll meet again in another life.

GENRE reincarnation au, soulmate au, angst, fluff

WARNINGS death, a male being reincarnated into a female; do not read if uncomfortable with these topics !

AUTHOR’S NOTE i recently rewatched eunseok’s smrookies vlog where he went to everland and it reminded me of see you in my 19th life, so i decided to write this cause he was just too cute 🫶🏼 it’s also my first time writing something other than an essay for school work, so feedback is greatly appreciated. hope you enjoy this 🧡

WORD COUNT 1.7k

“won’t you ride the carousel with me ?”

“i want to go to the horror maze though.”

eunseok had lived many different lives. one after another. the years and lives he has lived seemed to blur together, until he met you. he had always been content with living alone, in isolation. he knew that all the relationships that he painstakingly built would inevitably disappear, like snowflakes melting on a warm palm. he knew that better than anyone else after the overwhelming heartbreaks he went through in his first few lives, which led him to be unfeeling and indifferent.

eunseok clearly remembers the exact moment in which his whole life started to change – the very moment in which your large doe eyes met his and a “sorry” slipped out of your mouth as you rushed to pick up the books you caused him to drop, a flush evident on your face. it was then that he started to allow himself to feel again, just for you.

“but that’s so scary ! let’s ride the carousel instead, please ? it’s our anniversary after all.”

“i’ll think about it.”

“eunseok !”

eunseok smiled softly at your pleas, wide eyes looking up at him. his heart fluttered with the delicate grace of snowflakes, on the brink of a winter wonderland of happiness.

“i’ll follow you wherever you go.”

he reached into his pocket and pulled out something.

“what’s that ?”

“for you.”

it was a pretty silver necklace with a star charm hanging off it. with both his and your initials engraved on each side of the charm. you turned around and let him clasp the necklace around you. it was so pretty to you.

idle chatter and music from the playlist eunseok made for you filled the confines of the car. your animated gestures when you talk, your sparkling eyes when the streetlights reflect on them, your adorable giggles when he makes a dad joke and your endless fidgeting in anticipation of your anniversary together. you in your slightly oversized pink parka, seated next to him in the warm and cozy car. eunseok feels as if all the empty crevices in his heart were overfilled with you and you alone. perhaps amidst the frost-kissed chapters of his life, there will be enchanting moments waiting to unfold.

a car’s honk.

“eunseok ! careful !”

the roads, slick with a layer of frozen precipitation, caused tires to screech and cars to veer out of control. amongst winter’s serene beauty, an ear-piercing symphony of metal crushing and glass shattering. swirling snowflakes, momentarily suspended in the aftermath.

eunseok regained consciousness to come face to face with his lover, bloodied and bruised. your pink parka stained red.

“no.”

he reached over his cut-up and trembling hand to cradle your head as he desperately searched for any sign of life.

“no please.”

eunseok’s heartbeat echoed painfully in his ears. why ? why in this life ? why is fate so unfair to me ?

“i’ll follow you wherever you go, my love.”

he cradled your unresponsive body close to his as he slowly felt himself losing consciousness.

sirens filled the neighbourhood as onlookers whispered amongst themselves. the stark contrast of the pure white snow against the pool of blood and pile of wreckage painted a macabre image. you and eunseok, close together in winter’s unforgiving embrace.

as the paramedics tried to pull the two limp bodies apart, they found out that they couldn’t as their silver necklaces were entangled together.

my first life without you

fate was unkind to eunseok in this life too. in this life, his name is jack somer, born in australia. because he was born into a poor family, eunseok worked really hard. he worked hard to earn enough to sustain himself and his family, consisting of his mother and brother from this life. he worked hard in hopes of seeing you once again. however, he was largely preoccupied with earning money for his family, so he could not put aside much time to look for you.

on very rare occasions, eunseok would manage to save up enough money to enter the local carnival. he would then spend his day sitting on the bench in front of the carousel, watching as people walked by. watching couples happily chatting with each other while holding each other’s hands. just like what you and him would have done if you both made it to the theme park that day. watching young children run around, causing their parents to freak out over them. just like the family you and he dreamed of having one day. watching people being together. just like you and him once were. but he never found you. or perhaps you were not reincarnated in this lifetime.

my second life without you

in this life, eunseok is well-known by many as marcelle beaumont, a famous french designer who established her career in fashion design through her winter collection. during the winter, you could see many citizens wearing pink parkas from her brand, the most popular item in her collection that was extremely well-received by the public. she wondered why the red parka wasn’t popular.

due to the successful launch of the clothing line, eunseok had plenty of connections to the rich and powerful in society. he utilised those connections to the fullest, but yet he still could not find any trace of you. or perhaps you were not reincarnated in this lifetime.

my fifth life without you

song kang. one of the top south korean actors. popular for his melodramas. you always loved to watch melodramas with him. and he would always pull you into his warm embrace afterwards to comfort you when you were upset about the expected tragic ending of the drama. this was eunseok’s fifth life without you already. and he was feeling increasingly anxious and uneasy without you by his side. it didn’t take much for him to act sad in dramas. after all, all he had to do was recall the accident and tears would start flowing endlessly.

as eunseok faced the large crowd, flash blinding his eyes, all he could do was put up a forced grimace. at every drama screening, his eyes would dart around, a tinge of hope as he scanned across every face in the crowd. as always, the knot in his stomach would tighten with every unmet gaze and he allowed defeat to seep into him once again. he later accepted that he would not find you in this life. or perhaps you were not reincarnated in this lifetime.

my eighth life without you

kazuha nakamoto was his name in this life. eunseok was a famous female japanese musician. he briefly wondered : had he been a famous japanese musician before ? but his memories of his past lives were foggy. it seems like he could not clearly recall anything that happened before he met you.

“memories” is yet another timeless song that eunseok would leave behind in this world. talking about his happy memories with you. in his life with you, you really loved a japanese group called akb48. maybe he could let you listen to “memories” when you both meet again. a song made just for you, eunseok thinks you’d really like that. he did not meet you in this lifetime either. how many years have passed ? he was getting tired. but it’s alright, because he’ll follow you wherever you are.

my tenth life without you

“it’s almost been a thousand years.”

eunseok sat on a bench, facing the front of the carousel. he was dressed to the nines in his sharp and sleek suit tailored just for him, with an expensive silver watch adorning his wrists and a silver star necklace hidden underneath his crisp white blouse. a pink parka laid on his lap, in case he got cold. in this life, he was reborn as song eunseok once again. this time, he is the son of a ceo in south korea.

“where are you ? i’ve been trying to find you yet there’s not a single trace of you for me to follow.”

eunseok continued to sit at the bench for hours, staring at the spinning carousel and trying to block out the laughter from all around him. he felt hollow. the heart-wrenching feeling he had experienced every day since he got separated from you was slowly fading, replaced instead by emptiness. it was as if he returned to his past self, the cold and emotionless person he was before he met you.

soon it was almost 8pm, and eunseok stood up from his seat, ready to leave. he bumped into someone of a rather short stature, carrying a telescope stand that seemed too heavy for them.

“hi sir ! are you leaving already ? there’s a special stargazing event tonight hosted by the celestial horizon society ! i’m part of it. would you like to join us ?”

“no, it’s alright. thank you for the offer,” eunseok muttered an excuse, wanting to get home and rest already. he was exhausted with the paperwork that his father piled on him and his driver was waiting for him.

“but the event is only for today; it would be a shame if you missed it ! stars are really pretty, you know. i can tell you must like them too; you even have a star necklace ! it suits you very well, by the way.”

eunseok hadn’t even noticed that his necklace had accidentally slipped out of his blouse, being too engrossed in his thoughts beforehand. he gently slid his thumb over the necklace, feeling the engravings of your initials.

“okay.”

“great ! i’ll lead you there, sir ! my name is y/n, sorry i forgot to introduce myself,” you tilted your head so that the telescope stand wasn’t hiding your face anymore.

as eunseok’s eyes lay on the sight of your face, the frosty air seemed to tighten around his chest, creating an icy embrace that left him breathless.

“you. i finally found you.”

“sorry sir, have we perhaps met before ?” a confused expression overcoming your soft features.

“no. we have not. but i would like to get to know you. i’m song eunseok, nice to meet you, y/n. before we go stargazing, would you like to ride the carousel with me ?”

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howtofightwrite · 2 years

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Why don't you just stop responding to the sexists who think women can't fight men???

Three reasons.

One is a little self serving, so let's start with that: Those posts do really well.

I'm not kidding; slapping around MRAs consistently land among our more popular posts. This has certainly been true of our recent posts, but it's a long term factor as well. In fact, Women are not Weaker than Men is the blog's most popular post by a huge margin, (it has somewhere around 24k-25k notes.) (Ironically, our most popular at this moment is the Kim Possible post from a couple weeks ago.)

Second, and this might be surprising, but sometimes they meet our criteria. So, I've talked about this before, but when I'm looking in the inbox, I generally evaluate a question based on it's general applicability, educational value, and its potential for entertainment.

With general applicability, I'm asking myself if the answer will be useful to other people. If the answer to this is no, it's very rare that I'll answer that question. The most common questions that run afoul of this are hyper-specific scenarios, questions about very specific fantasy or alien physiology (if you sent us an ask about your six limbed, arboreal, aliens, I'm sorry, that question is probably not happening.) Even in cases like this, I'll sometimes try to find ways to see if I can offer an answer that will be more broadly useful. Sometimes, you'll see questions where I veer off onto a tangent, or try to drag a larger context out of something, and this would usually be why.

With educational value, I'm asking if I can explain something that most people don't know. This will sometimes override applicability. I'll admit that sometimes I'm a bit too harsh on point, especially if it's something we've covered in the past. I don't want to get into a situation where I'm answering the same topics repeatedly, because I don't want to waste your time, though, thinking about it critically, there's probably a few of these where the answer is old enough that most of our audience didn't catch them the first time. The recent hair whip and knives questions are examples where I reasoned that the previous posts were old enough that fresh answers would be useful again.

The entertainment factor is basically self-explanatory. I don't usually set out with the goal of writing jokes, but if I see the opportunity...

Now, with a lot of these MRA posts, there's some real potential for entertainment right off the top. These tend to be poorly considered arguments, and as a result, tend to be really easy to shoot down. That, in turn, means I've got a lot of room to be particularly snarky, or to ramp the interest in some of the background information.

Third, you need to hear this.

Okay, in this case, it might not be you, per se. However, you need to hear this. It is depressingly common to see authors, even women, buy into the MRA's bullshit. Far too many accept the, “women can't fight,” lie as their truth.

This yields shitty writing.

Far too many authors, when writing their female characters, say, “but mine is different, she can fight.” These authors produce weaker characters, because they take painful, artificial, steps to keep their character from offending these misogynists.

When you step back and say, “my character is a girl, and she can fight because she has superpowers,” you are doing a disservice to your readers. You're perpetuating that myth and reinforcing it. For a new generation of girls, you're telling them that they can't fight, because of a lie you took as fact.

There is a purpose to standing up and saying, “this is wrong,” and detailing the multitude of ways that it simply doesn't mesh with objective reality, but here's one reason you should take with you: Participation.

Make no mistake, the goal of those misogynists is to diminish you, to push you to the side, and squelch your voice. Remember when that anon wrote, “One punch could end your life.” That's not an argument about the ability for men or women to function in combat, that is intended to be threatening. Joke's on them, I'm a guy. But, never forget, the people forwarding these arguments want you to sit down, shut up, and wait meekly, while they decide your life for you. And they intend to enforce this with violence, or threats of same.

Do you know what determines an individual's capacity for violence?

Socialization.

As a society, we lie to girls. We tell them they cannot fight. We tell them they shouldn't fight, and if that was applied agnostic of sex, that would be one thing. However, while we are telling girls to submit, we are teaching boys to be more aggressive. To engage in violence. We teach them to fight, and accept it as a legitimate arbiter of disputes (on the playground.)

So, when you see one of these misogynists, what you're really seeing is one of those scared little boys on the preschool playground, who has no way to exert control over their environment except through violence. Their body got larger, but they never grew up.

As an adult, they understand that violence has consequences, so they start with threats, and then transition into force.

So, do you know what determines an individual's capacity for violence?

Because socialization isn't permanent. It shapes how you look at the world, but your socialization is something you can control. This is a power you have over yourself. If you live in a world where you are exclusively told that you cannot fight, that you cannot defend yourself, that you must meekly wait for someone else to take your autonomy from you, you will believe that. So long as the only voices you hear speak that lie, you cannot change.

The difference between being able to fight, or not, is training. It's your willingness to use that training on another human being, versus your opponent's ability to do the same. It doesn't matter if you are a man, or a woman. What matters is, do you know how to reduce your opponent into 200lbs of rapidly decaying meat, and are you willing to do it to protect yourself?

Here's another lie you don't hear countered very often: “strength matters.” Humans, as a general rule, use a fraction of our physical strength. This is true for both men and women. Your muscles are literally strong enough to tear your own body apart. Your brain (not your mind, but your brain) limits how hard you push yourself, specifically to protect you from your own body. One side effect of adrenaline is that it becomes very easy to accidentally hurt yourself because you will override your body's own limiters. In case it's unclear, what I'm saying here is that, when threatened, it is quite possible to temporarily give yourself superhuman strength. Now, it will hurt in the morning, and I may be biased, but I think abused muscles, and even broken bones, are far more appealing than being autopsied.

So, why do I continue to speak out against these misogynists? Because they're full of shit. They can't tell me what to do. They can't tell you what to do. The only power they have over you is what you surrender to them.

I'm telling you: You can fight. It's not easy. It's a skill like any other, and it requires training. Just like any other skill you can have excellent teachers or poor ones. But, you can fight.

Humans are a scary species, and when provoked we are a lot harder to kill, and a lot more dangerous, than we appear. If you think that our sexual dimorphism is significant enough to change that, it's not. It's not even close.

You can fight.

And those misogynists can go fuck themselves.

-Starke

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#Starke answers #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips

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kirain · 2 months

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I've been on this site for over ten years and I've never had to do this, but sadly the time has come where I feel forced to make a call out post, if only for the safety of my blog.

Please do not harass this person. PLEASE DO NOT HARASS THEM! That is not my goal here. That said, I do suggest you avoid them at all costs, for your own safety and sanity.

A few days ago, I made a post responding to some anonymous hate I received regarding Gale Dekarios, a character from BG3. An account named Turtwg, who has now changed her name to Shdowheart, took issue with the content and tone of my post. Instead of simply blocking me, she attacked me and several other people in the notes, and accused me of sending the anon to myself.

I responded, arguing against her accusations and a few other remarks she made. Just typical fandom discourse. Or so I thought.

I regret it now (only because I've lost some evidence), but I deleted many of her and my messages. They were clogging up my post and veering extremely off topic, but eventually she admitted I didn't send the anon to myself. When I asked her how she knew that, she said she traced the anon to a Gale-centric account. You see, she believed the anon wasn't sent by an Astarion fan, but by a Gale fan trying to create discourse. In a normal situation, I'd say that's a fair assumption for anyone to make, but something seemed off.

First of all, despite several people telling her it's not possible to track down blogs through their anonymous messages, she insisted she found the user responsible—which honestly made me wonder if she sent the anon herself, hoping to create drama. If she did, then mission accomplished, I guess. We messaged back and forth in the notes for a while, with me commenting on both the impossibility and morality of tracking down an anonymous user. During that time, her responses to me were lightning fast. Constant. Remember that for later.

Second, she soon told me she had the anon's IP address, which she said she'd "happily send me". I told her an IP address doesn't prove anything because it can be photoshopped and a lot of people use VPNs. I also pointed out how utterly insane it is to dox/cyberstalk someone over a post about a video game. It's really not that serious. But out of sheer curiosity, I told her to give me the blog name. Not because I believed her, but because I was curious to see if she'd accuse a popular blog or someone who could defend themselves. The moment I asked, she went silent for nearly an hour. 🤔

When she came back, she gave me the name of an account called Dekariosbf. She told me to message the account, so I did, though I made no accusations against them yet. As I waited for a reply, I accused Turtwg of making the account herself, as it was barren with no activity whatsoever. No likes, no posts, nothing. She easily could've created the account during that hour of peace. Moreover, after she gave me the account name and I accused her of creating it, her responses were once again lightning fast. 🤔

As we argued, I sent my brother-in-law and a friend of mine a link to my blog and had them read through the discourse. They don't have Tumblr accounts, but they're both computer nerds and my brother-in-law literally works with computers/programs for a living. I asked them if anything Turtwg said was valid, and they (along with someone else in the notes who claimed to work in UI/UX) confirmed that no, absolutely nothing she said was valid. Tumblr pays for a service that protects their users, and the only way to trace anons is by using extremely unsavory and illegal methods ... and even then it's extremely unlikely to work.

Speaking of, my brother-in-law eventually messaged me and told me he found the actual account that sent the anon. I stupidly believed him and jumped the gun on that, because it turns out he was just being a shit disturber. That said, I used this information to call Turtwg out on her lies. In response, Dekariosbf miraculously (and in a rather timely fashion) responded to me. Unfortunately I don't have any screenshots of this interaction, but I'll explain why in a moment.

Dekariosbf was chatty and cordial at first. I asked them for their main account name, but they refused to give it, saying they only use it for poetry; which, as you can see from the screenshot, directly contradicts their bio, but I digress. I was suspicious, but also kept in mind the possibility that this might've been an innocent person Turtwg accused. For a while we shot the shit, talking back and forth about BG3, reading, teaching—but I did this for a reason. I wanted to get a feel for their writing style. Sure enough, they wrote exactly like Turtwg. Same spelling mistakes, same pattern of punctuation, same use of lower case letters instead of capital letters, same abbreviations, etc.

Finally, when I was sure it was her, I dropped the bomb. I very gently told "Dekariosbf" that someone named Turtwg accused them of sending me a hateful Gale anon, but that I didn't believe it. Low and behold, they did a complete 180.

"Yes, it was me. It was totally me. I just LOVE your blog and RESPECT you so much. I LOVE Gale and I wanted to know what you'd say if I sent that anon. It wasn't meant to be hateful. Please don't write a call out post about me. Please don't tell your followers. I mean, I understand if you do, but please don't. Turtwg messaged me and threatened to dox me and sent me a photo of my IP address. She's so smart, I don't think you should mess with her. Oh and my mom can't speak English. If we get doxxed, I think it would kill her."

Right...

I said I didn't believe them and accused them of being Turtwg on a sock account. They kept insisting they weren't, begged me to believe they sent the anon (and I mean they were desperate for me to believe it), and very strangly didn't express any anger or confusion over the situation. When I brought up the accusation, they completely changed their tone from friendly to "oh yeah, that was me". I kept saying I didn't believe them, particularly because of what my brother-in-law said, but promised not to call any attention to them. I was happy to simply let the matter rest. Suddenly, mid conversation, they deleted their entire blog. Poof. It's gone now, along with all our messages.

I thought that would be the end of it, but not even five minutes after Dekariosbf flung themselves into the void, Turtwg herself DMed me out of nowhere and accused me of trying to hack her account, presumably because I told "Dekariosbf" that my brother-in-law is computer savvy. Keep in mind that before this moment, our entire conversation took place in the notes of my post. I never DMed her, nor did I have any intention of doing so. I also had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, I just knew she was lying to me. Now it looks as though she's ramping up to lie to the Tumblr admins in order to get my account deleted.

And all because my post about a video game made her angry.

I really hate drawing attention to this. You can see in my other posts that I always censor people's usernames, but as I said at the beginning ... I don't feel like I have a choice this time. I want this up so the Tumblr admins or whoever can see it.

Turtwg has attacked other people for posting their opinions as well. For example, she attacked this person just because they expressed their opinon on wyllsterion. She went so far as to call them racist when Wyll is literally one of their favourite characters. She just got mad because they don't think Wyll and Astarion make sense together; a perfectly valid opinion. And I only know about this because I received messages warning me about interacting with Turtwg/Shdowheart from someone who recognised them in the notes of my post.

I guess I should've blocked her from the start, but I've said many times in the past that I enjoy a good debate. Plus I was genuinely curious to see how far she was willing to take her lie. Unfortunately, I underestimated just how unhinged she truly is. On her own blog, she's even admitted that she's had to make a new account seven times, likely due to other drama she started.

I was very hesitant to put this in the BG3 tags, but since that seems to be the fandom she interacts with the most, I figured it would be a fair warning to anyone else she might harass. She's particularly active in the Astarion/Wyll/Wyllsterion tags. Stay safe, everyone. I think I'll sign off for a while. I'm tired, and this has somehow become the most toxic fandom I've ever dared to be a part of.

Please do not harass this person. PLEASE DO NOT HARASS THEM! That is not my goal here. That said, I do suggest you avoid them at all costs, for your own safety and sanity.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep

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