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#but then when I moved in with my ex I was with them all the time
sunkissed-zegras · 9 hours
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★ THOUGHT OF CALLIN' YA, BUT YOU WON'T PICK UP / 'NOTHER FORTNIGHT LOST IN AMERICA / MOVE TO FLORIDA IOWA, BUY THE CAR YOU WANT / BUT IT WON'T START UP 'TIL YOU TOUCH, TOUCH, TOUCH ME ─── PB⁵ (part 2/2)
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❪ requested -> paige and ex gf!reader that plays on iowa where theres a lot of tension on the court bc they ended on rough terms but u can see that they still care abt each other yet have to prioritize the game // hii could u write for paige x ex gf iowa!reader where they play against each other in the final four and everyone can tell theres sm tension on the court between them bc they ended on rough terms ? they still care abt each other a lot but r forced to put those feelings aside for the sake of the game (but they def had a talk afterwards) - u can make it so that iowa still won or uconn won i think either one would be interesting ! tysm ❫ part one!!!!!!!!!!!!
─ warnings | dramatic as FUCK, resolution type shit, iowa v. uconn but like i changed a bunch of stuff so it's not "canon" to real life LMAO. uhhh angst?? idk?? HAPPY ENDINGGG!!!!!!!
─ ev's notes | i just picked LA sparks cause thats the team i want paige to go to but uh it might not be realistic, also this will make sense when u finish ;)
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APRIL 1, 2024
THE AIR WAS ELECTRIC in the arena as the final buzzer sounded, sealing UConn’s victory over USC in the 2024 NCAA Finals.
Confetti rained down, and the deafening roar of the crowd filled the space as the Huskies celebrated their hard-fought win. Paige Bueckers, at the center of it all, was surrounded by her teammates, hugging and shouting in excitement.
Hours later, the team was at an afterparty, the celebratory atmosphere continuing. Music blared, and laughter filled the room as the players enjoyed their victory. Paige, drink in hand, was beaming, her joy evident to everyone around her. She had worked so hard for this moment, and it was everything she had hoped for. She overcame her ACL injury and everyone who had doubted her, she'd ─ no, they'd ─ made it to the Final Four.
As Paige moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and sharing in the excitement, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a news alert about the NCAA tournament brackets.
"Iowa knocked out LSU," Paige read aloud, her brow furrowing. The notification showed that Iowa had defeated LSU in a close game, securing their spot in the next round. This meant that UConn would be playing against Iowa next, and therefore against Y/N L/N.
The realization hit Paige like a ton of bricks. She stood still for a moment, the noise and celebration around her fading into the background. She was going to have to play against you.
The same Y/N who had been such a significant part of her life (arguably was the most important part), who she had argued with and ultimately lost, who had moved on and found success elsewhere.
A mix of emotions surged through Paige — anxiety, determination, and a hint of sadness. She hadn't seen you played alongside you since your explosive breakup and your transfer to Iowa. Now, they were going to face each other on one of the biggest stages in their collegiate careers.
Nika noticed Paige's sudden change in demeanor and walked over. "Hey, what's up? You look like you've seen a ghost, we won the game, remember?" she tried to lighten the mood as she smiled.
Paige forced a smile, shaking her head slightly. "Nah, it's just... LSU lost to Iowa. We're going to have to play them next."
Nika raised an eyebrow, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Oh. Y/N."
"Yeah," Paige replied, taking a sip of her drink to steady herself. "Y/N."
Aaliyah joined them, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What about Y/N?"
Paige sighed, glancing between her friends. "We're going to play against her in the next round. Iowa knocked LSU out."
Aaliyah gave a sympathetic nod. "Oh shit. That's... that's going to be intense."
"Tell me about it," Paige muttered. She took a deep breath, trying to push aside the personal turmoil and focus on the challenge ahead. "But we have to be ready. This isn't just about me and Y/N. It's about the team. We have to win."
Nika clapped Paige on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. "Exactly. And we will. You've got this, P. We'll face whatever comes our way together."
It left a bitter taste in their mouth, Y/N ─ their (besides Paige, obviously) good friend and old teammate ─ now, they had to knock her out or vice versa.
Aaliyah, sensing Paige's inner turmoil, leaned in closer. "Paige, you've always been one of the strongest people we know. You can handle this. And who knows, maybe facing Y/N will bring some closure."
Paige nodded, appreciating Nika's words. "Yeah, maybe. It just feels... complicated."
Nika chimed in, her tone supportive yet firm. "It is complicated, but remember why we're here. We've worked too hard to let anything distract us now. We owe it to ourselves and to our fans to give it our all."
Paige took a deep breath, steeling herself. "You're right. This is about the team and our goal. We need to stay focused."
Aubrey, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up. "Y/N is a great player, but so are we. We’ve got each other's backs, and that’s what matters. We’re Huskies, and we fight together."
The next day, practice was intense. The team worked tirelessly, their focus razor-sharp. Coach Geno was relentless, pushing them to their limits. Paige appreciated the rigorous drills, as they helped distract her from her thoughts about Y/N.
──
"Didn't you like, date Paige?" Gabbie spoke up as she glanced toward you, a curious expression on her face. "Like, Paige Bueckers at UConn?"
Everyone was in your hotel room, trying to recover from the afterparty last night. LSU was a hard fought win and everyone was really feeling the win, especially after the controversy from last year so obviously that meant drinks with the team.
Gabbie and Jada were on your bed, Kate had her head on your shoulder as Caitlin struggled to keep her eyes open, despite her laying upright in the chair.
Kate's head perked up at the name, looking up to gauge your expression. It'd been a while since someone (other than reporters) asked you about her, your heart skipping a beat at the mention. The only people who really knew what really happened were Caitlin and Kate, you didn't want to open up about it to anyone else.
Caitlin's eyes opened as she gave you a look. She wanted to speak up before you answered, giving her a nod.
"Yeah, uh a while back." You answered with a nervous smile, feeling the weight of everyone's attention. The room, filled with the soft sounds of recovery and idle conversation, seemed to focus in on you for a moment.
Gabbie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Wow, that's wild. Must be kind of crazy having to play against your ex in such a big game."
Kate shifted slightly, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. Caitlin, still half-asleep, managed a supportive smile. You appreciated their silent encouragement.
"Yeah, it can be," you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady. "But at the end of the day, it's about the game and the team. We’re all here to win."
Jada, who had been quietly listening, chimed in. "That’s a good mindset. It’s gotta be tough, but you’re been handling it really well. Better than me,"
"Thanks," you replied, feeling a bit more at ease. "I just try to focus on what I can control. And right now, that's playing my best for the team."
Caitlin's eyes fully opened now, her gaze steady on you. "And you've been killing it. We wouldn't be here without you."
"Same goes for you, Cait," you responded, grateful for her unwavering support. "We’re all in this together."
Gabbie still seemed curious but nodded, respecting the boundaries you had set. "Well, for what it's worth, I think it's pretty badass. Turning something tough into motivation like that."
"Yeah," Kate added, her voice gentle. "And besides, we’ve got your back no matter what."
The room fell back into a comfortable rhythm, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. You felt a wave of relief, glad that the subject had been handled with sensitivity by your teammates. It reminded you of why you loved this team so much ─ their understanding, their support, and their ability to focus on what truly mattered.
As the evening wore on, you found yourself thinking about the upcoming game against UConn. It was inevitable that facing Paige would stir up old emotions, but you knew you were ready. Your time with Iowa had been transformative, helping you grow not just as a player, but as a person.
You had a team that believed in you, and you believed in them. That was enough to face any challenge, even one as personal as this.
The next day at practice, the atmosphere was intense but focused. The coaches ran through plays, strategies, and drills, emphasizing teamwork and communication. You felt a renewed sense of determination, ready to give it your all.
After practice, Caitlin and Kate approached you, their expressions serious yet supportive. "You good?" Caitlin asked, her concern evident.
"Yeah," you said, nodding. "I'm ready."
Kate smiled, her eyes reflecting pride. "We’re gonna crush it. Together."
You smiled back, feeling the warmth of their support. "Yeah, we are."
──
APRIL 5, 2024
"And here we are folks, the most anticipated of the season! The NCAA Women's Basketball Championship Final Four is about to tip off, featuring the Iowa Hawkeyes against the UConn Huskies!" The commentator's voice boomed through the packed arena, the excitement palpable among the sea of fans.
The camera panned over the teams warming up on the court. The Iowa Hawkeyes, led by their star player Caitlin Clark and Y/N L/N, looked focused and determined. On the other side, the UConn Huskies, with their legendary coach Geno Auriemma and standout players like Paige Bueckers and Nika Muhl, were equally intense.
"Tonight's matchup is not just a clash of two powerhouse teams, but a story of redemption and rivalry." The commentator continued. "Y/N L/N, former UConn star, now shining with Iowa, will face off against her old team. This game has all the makings of an instant classic."
Kate stood behind you, giving your shoulders squeeze as you let out a surprised yelp. "Ow!"
Kate smiled as she put her arm around you. "You nervous?"
You laughed, shaking off the nerves. "A little bit. It's a big game."
Kate squeezed your shoulder again, this time more gently. "You've got this, Y/N. We've all got your back. Just play your game."
You nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Kate. That means a lot."
As the team huddled up for a final pep talk, Caitlin took the lead. "This is our moment. We've worked hard to get here, and now it's time to finish what we started. Play for each other, leave everything on the court, and let's bring that trophy home!"
The team roared in agreement, the energy palpable as you broke the huddle and took your positions on the court. You were guarding Paige, that was the ultimate goal for you ─ make sure she does not score.
As you walked to the court, your gazes met and your heart sank. She looked determined, her eyes sharp and focused, a mirror of your own intensity. Her blue eyes carried years of memories, both beautiful and painful. There was a time when those eyes looked at you with nothing but love. Now, they were filled with a competitive fire, and something else ─ something you couldn’t quite place.
But you also knew that you were ready. You had trained for this, prepared for this, and you were not going to let her outshine you. She looked you up and down, but she kept her lips shut as you took your position.
Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. But you were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.
The whistle blew, and the game began. The crowd's cheers became a distant roar as you zeroed in on Paige. Paige moved quickly, weaving through your teammates with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. She tried to shake you off with a quick pivot, but you anticipated her move and stayed in front of her, blocking her path to the basket.
You were right there with her, matching her stride for stride. Every pivot, every fake ─ you were there, anticipating her moves as if you were still in sync, like you had been during the best of times.
Right from the start, the intensity was through the roof. UConn came out strong, with Paige leading the charge. She was as formidable as ever, hitting shots from all over the court and orchestrating the offense with precision. But Iowa matched their intensity, with Caitlin and you leading the charge.
"Clark drives to the basket... passes to L/N... she shoots... and it's good! Y/N L/N ties the game at 20!" the commentator exclaimed.
As the game progressed, the physical exertion mirrored the emotional toll. Each bump, each shove, was a reminder of the walls that had gone up between you two. You could hear the crowd, the commentators, your coach shouting instructions, but it all faded into the background.
All you could focus on was Paige, everything about her almost felt like a ghost of someone who you'd known intimately but had somehow become a stranger. The familiarity of her movements, the way she dribbled the ball, the sheer determination in her eyes ─ it all brought back memories that you had tried so hard to bury.
As the game progressed, those memories kept flooding back. Late-night talks after practice, shared laughter over inside jokes, the way her hand used to fit perfectly in yours. Each interaction on the court was laden with unspoken words, with the weight of what once was and what could never be again.
In a particularly intense moment, Paige drove to the basket, and you fouled her hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. Time seemed to slow as you reached out a hand to help her up, your eyes locking onto hers. The crowd's noise dimmed, and for a brief second, it felt like it was just the two of you.
"I'm fine," she said, brushing off your hand and getting up on her own. But her voice was softer, lacking the sharp edge it had carried since the breakup.
"Sorry," you muttered, more for everything unspoken between you than for the foul itself.
She gave a curt nod, her expression unreadable as she walked to the free-throw line. You could see the conflict in her eyes, the same one that mirrored your own. Despite the competitive fire, there was an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore, could ever ignore.
Midway through the first half, there was a brief pause in play. Paige looked over at you, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. "You're really making this tough," she said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.
"Just doing my job," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. Inside, you were a whirlwind of emotions.
The first half ended with both teams neck and neck. In the locker room, Coach Blunder gave a rousing speech, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about Paige ─ the good times, the bad, and everything in between. The harsh words exchanged during the breakup, the regret that followed, and the lingering hurt that neither of you had ever fully addressed.
Each glance, each brush of your arms, felt like an electric shock. It was more than just a battle for victory; it was a confrontation of your shared past and the emotions you had both tried to suppress.
Back on the court, the tension was palpable. "Paige on the drive... she dishes it out to the wing, but L/N intercepts! What a defensive play!" The commentator’s voice boomed, but you barely registered it, too focused on the person right in front of you.
In a brief moment when the ball was out of play, Paige walked up beside you. "You're playing good, L/N," she said, breathless but sincere. It was the first civil thing she had said to you in months.
"Thanks," you replied, your heart aching. "You too."
The final minutes of the game were a blur. With the score tied and the clock winding down, Paige had the ball. She drove towards the basket, and you were right there with her. She went up for a shot, and you blocked it, the ball flying out of bounds. The whistle blew, and UConn called a timeout.
As both teams huddled up, coach emphasized the importance of the next play. "This is it. One more stop, and we win this."
When the game resumed, UConn inbounded the ball to Paige. She glanced at you, her expression a mix of determination and something else ─ something softer. She made a move towards the basket, but you stayed with her, your eyes never leaving hers. She pulled up for a jumper, and you leapt, your hand just grazing the ball enough to alter its trajectory.
"Caitlin grabs the rebound... she sprints down the court... passes to L/N... Y/N for the win... and it's in! Iowa takes the lead with seconds to spare!"
The buzzer sounded, and the gym erupted in cheers. Your teammates rushed to embrace you, lifting you high as the reality of your victory set in. You had done it. You had faced off against one of the best ─ and your ex ─ and emerged victorious.
You felt the tears of happiness trail down your face uncontrollably as you shouted, "We did it! We actually did it!" Your voice was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd and the jubilation of your team.
As you were carried around in celebration, your eyes searched for Paige. Despite the euphoria of the win, there was a part of you that needed to see her, to understand her reaction. You spotted her near the sidelines, her expression a mixture of disappointment and quiet acceptance.
Gently, you extricated yourself from your teammates' embrace and made your way over to her. The noise of the gym seemed to fade into the background as you approached. Paige looked up, meeting your gaze with those familiar blue eyes that had once been your world, except now they were teary eyed.
"Uh, congrats, Y/N." She sniffled, her voice steady but soft. There was a depth of emotion in her eyes, a mix of pride and sadness that tugged at your heart.
"Thanks, Paige," you replied, your voice catching slightly. "You played an amazing game. You always do."
She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "You too. You deserved this win."
There was a moment of silence, a charged pause where the weight of your shared history hung between you. Finally, you broke the silence.
"I'm sorry," you whispered suddenly, your stomach twisting in gulit.
Paige scoffed, shaking her head. "For what? Playing your best? Don't apologize-"
"No. For having to be the one to take you guys out. I mean... you guys are my family," you felt your own tears build up in your eyes. "Were my family," you corrected quickly.
Paige's expression softened, her teary eyes locking onto yours. "We are a family, that doesn't just go away. But you have your own path to follow, Y/N. And it's okay. We all knew this day might come."
You felt a lump in your throat, struggling to find the right words. "I just... I never wanted it to end like this, with us on opposite sides."
Paige reached out, her hand finding yours and squeezing it gently and it felt like how it did, two years ago. "Life doesn't always go the way we want, but that doesn't mean what we had wasn't real or important. We grew together, and now we're growing apart. It's part of the journey."
You nodded, swallowing hard. "I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."
Paige's smile was bittersweet. "Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."
The tears spilled over, but you managed to smile through them. "Thank you, Paige. That means more than you know."
Before you could even process it, Paige pulled you into a tight hug. She buried her face in your neck as you felt your tears flow freely, her breaths coming in hiccups. You hugged her back just as tightly, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort you had once known so well.
Her lips found your temple, pressing a kiss on to it. You squeezed her tighter, but it was a cathartic release, a letting go of all the hurt and tension that had built up over the past years.
After what felt like an eternity, Paige pulled back slightly, her eyes red and puffy but filled with a kind of peace. Before she could say it, you felt someone's hands on your back. You met the eyes of Nika, pulling her into a hug.
And soon, the seniors of your old team surrounded you, taking their own turn in hugging you and congratulating you. It was bittersweet moment, reunion tinged with the pain of separation but also the joy of shared memories and accomplishments. Each hug brought a new rush of memories, a reminder of the bond you had shared with these incredible women.
"Well, what a remarkable sight we're witnessing right now," the lead commentator said, his voice tinged with emotion. "It's not just about the victory for Iowa or the hard-fought battle for UConn. This is a moment of true sportsmanship and personal connection. You can see the genuine respect and love these players have for each other, transcending the rivalry and the outcome of the game."
His co-commentator nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. It's moments like these that remind us why we love sports. It's not just about the competition, it's about the camaraderie and the human stories behind the game. These athletes have given everything on the court, but off the court, they are still friends, still a family in many ways."
The camera panned across the court, capturing the emotional reunions and heartfelt embraces. It zoomed in on you and Paige, still holding hands and exchanging a few final words. The commentators fell silent for a moment, letting the images speak for themselves.
As you walked away, you felt a sense of closure. It wasn't the perfect resolution, but it was a step in the right direction. You turned back to your teammates, who had been watching the exchange with quiet understanding.
Kate came up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently.
You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "Better. Lighter, somehow."
Kate smiled and squeezed your shoulder. "Good. Now let's go celebrate!"
You laughed, the sound light and free. "Yeah, let's do that."
As you joined your teammates in the celebration, the noise and excitement of the gym washed over you. For the first time in a long while, you felt truly at peace. The future was still uncertain, but you knew you had the strength and support to face whatever came next. And that was enough.
──
"I just hope we can find our way back to being friends, someday."
"Maybe. But even if we don't, know that I still care about you, and I always will. I never... I never meant what I said, I swear. I'm not angry anymore, I'm just proud."
ESPN, APRIL 2025 Reunited Once Again | Paige Bueckers and Y/N L/N Embrace as Teammates Once Again with the LA Sparks
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albino-notes · 2 days
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Packing Party
Description: ★ᯓ Caught in the middle of a relentless argument with your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend Joost, you find yourself packing his suitcase in a desperate attempt to distract yourself. Tensions run high, but despite the hardships, you realize that your love is worth fighting for. ᯓ★
Pairing: Joost x gn!reader
Word Count: 2k
Contents: a whole lot of angst
A/N: had this idea in mind for a while, so i finally made a blog to join the party. pls be gentle with me :)
With ringing ears and a sore throat, you reached for the suitcase on top of the wardrobe. Your shaking hands were begging to be used for something other than making all sorts of angry gestures at your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend in a fight that seemed to have no end in sight. So, you set the suitcase down on your bed and started throwing in random articles of clothing. You weren’t thinking about the contents of the luggage—occasionally getting your and your boyfriend’s shirt shelves mixed up—you just needed to keep yourself busy. You didn’t want to spend the little energy you had left on anything involving explosive accusations, hurt feelings, or tear-stained cheeks.
“You don’t have to do that.” Joost sighed, closing the lid of the black carry-on. You barely registered him. Instead, you worked off your mental packing list so your endeavour would at least be productive: the white long-sleeved shirt with the black tie, the kilt, the striped shirt with its sleeves cut off that was originally yours but was now a staple piece in your boyfriend’s tour wardrobe.
“Jesus, will you please stop this? I can do this on my own.”
You didn’t answer him. Joost exhaled sharply. You didn’t have to look at him to know that he was annoyed. Finally, the sight of a particular T-shirt brought your frantic packing frenzy to a halt. Your pale, cold fingers glided over the soft, black material and finally over the vinyl print depicting Lola Bunny. You had bought it for him in a second-hand store in Berlin just a few months after you started dating. He loved it so much that he wore it every chance he got—on dates, during interviews, even during his shows sometimes. But you couldn’t remember when he’d worn it last. The T-shirt was crumpled up underneath a pile of other identical black T-shirts. It felt as unloved as you did in that moment. Your glossy eyes brimmed with tears again.
“Teun’s girlfriend is spending the night in Amsterdam tomorrow so she can see him off to the airport.”
You pushed the T-shirt to the back of the compartment, pulling out the white “I <3 Joost Klein” T-shirt instead and moved it to the suitcase. Only then did you take in Joost’s presence at the edge of the bed, with his hands folded together in his lap.
“Good for them,” you muttered, but you didn’t look up at him. Instead, you turned your attention back to the wooden wardrobe.
“For fuck’s sake. Do you need a written invitation? I’d like you to come with me,” Joost scowled, his voice raised significantly. “God forbid I want to spend some time with my girlfriend.”
It felt both reassuring and disconcerting that he was still referring to you as his girlfriend. Truth is, you hadn’t felt like his girlfriend in a while. This might be the last time he would call you that, so you savoured it despite the bitter aftertaste.
“Didn’t sound like that yesterday.” The memories all came flooding back to you. The screaming. The crying. The pure hatred in both of your voices. The half-hearted apologies that couldn’t mend any of the pain that the past week had caused you.
“I know. I already apologized for that.”
You turned around to face him now, for the first time that evening. His eyes were puffy from crying and there were deep, red lines in his forehead. He looked exhausted from the nonstop fighting, but so were you. You crossed your arms in front of your torso. “Okay, but it still stung when you said you couldn’t wait to get away from me. So maybe you should just go alone.”
“I know that…” He swallowed, rubbing his forehead. “But now I’m trying to make it up to you. Will you please come to Amsterdam with me?”
You huffed. “Why? So we can smash each other’s heads in at the Van Gogh Museum?”
“Why are we doing this now? I’m trying to tell you I want you there. Is that not enough? Do you want me to crawl on my knees and beg?”
“You can’t pull this shit with me right now, Joost. Just because you’re leaving doesn’t mean we should ignore everything that’s happened.” Admittedly, you couldn’t even remember all the reasons why you had been fighting so much lately. It was a mix between petty arguments about house chores blown out of proportion and unresolved and uncommunicated issues from the past exacerbated by the fact that you were both stressed about your own things. You had been unsuccessful in trying to find a job for a few months, and Joost had been spending most of his time at the office planning his headlining tour. Things had been tense for a while, and the fact that Joost was leaving soon made it feel like the fight had a resolution deadline set for tomorrow evening, which only added to the pressure.
“At least I’m trying to make things better. All you seem to want to do is fight.” Joost’s voice was barely audible, but you could perfectly make out the venom in it.
“Is that really what you think of me?”
“No,” he quickly said, “of course not. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You really need to think before you speak, then.”
“At least I’m trying to talk to you. You haven’t said a fucking word to me all day. Hell, you haven’t even looked at me since last night.”
“Okay fine, let’s talk.” You pushed the right wardrobe door shut with more force than intended, immediately turning around to see Joost cupping his noise-sensitive ears with a grimace. Your heart dropped immediately, rushing to his side.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you said, letting your worn-out body flop down on the ground. In that moment, Joost reminded you of a helpless puppy. You knew he couldn’t stand sudden loud noises, usually walking around with earplugs without listening to music so it would cancel some of the noise. You pulled your knees towards yourself, looking up at your boyfriend’s blue eyes. His hands were resting on his thighs again, his feet dangling over the edge of your bed. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight anymore.”
You were tired, so incredibly tired. You wanted nothing more than to fall into a deep slumber next to Joost and wake up with his arms wrapped protectively around you. You did want to go to Amsterdam and spend a relaxing day with him and his friends and do a little bit of sightseeing before he left; you wanted to drive him to the airport and cry as you parted ways, declaring that you’d call and text as much as possible while he was away on tour for the next two months. You wanted the harmonious relationship back that you had tried so hard to build in those three years together, but you also knew you couldn’t pretend as if these horrible weeks had never happened. Like all these venomous words had never come out of your mouths.
“Me neither.” Joost was now the one avoiding your gaze, although his facial expression had softened. His left hand hovered over the suitcase before tugging on a pair of jeans, causing the entire stack of neatly folded clothes on top of them to collapse. “Those are yours.”
“Okay,” you said. Now you were the one growing frustrated with the way you were both avoiding the conversation at hand. You grabbed the pair of dark blue jeans from him, his cold and touch sending shivers down your spine. The sensation of the usually so familiar body now felt so strange and wrong.
You put the pants back into the wardrobe with disenchantment. Packing with your boyfriend for tour used to be so fun and light-hearted; you would put on your carefully curated Hyperpop playlist on full volume, dancing around the bedroom while passing around random articles of clothing that would end up crumpled up and crammed into the suitcase until it almost wouldn’t close anymore. And not to forget about the mandatory kiss after something would successfully make it into the carry-on. Those packing parties would usually take a few hours, but they always ended with roaring laughter as one of you was tasked with sitting down on the overflowing suitcase while the other tried to zip it up. Neither of you cared about how inefficient this process was, as it successfully made you forget about the tragic situation at hand—the otherwise inseparable couple being separated for Joost’s job.
You felt guilty about the fact that you were almost glad he was leaving, the words that had stabbed you like a knife the night before now running through your own mind. But you hadn’t been able to take a proper breather for weeks, his stifling presence lingering in every corner of your shared apartment. It was hard to avoid each other when you had never had a reason to.
“I’ll see if I can come see you at Lowlands.”
He scowled. “How noble of you.”
You clicked your tongue in annoyance. How did he expect you to come with him to Amsterdam if the only form of communication you had lately was snarking at each other? You felt your cheeks becoming wet again. You were desperate to finally stop fighting. You couldn’t do this anymore. “I’m trying here, Joost. I’ll try to visit you on tour, but I think it’s better if we have some space in the meantime.”
“I guess you’re right.” He furrowed his eyebrows and let out a loud sigh, burrowing his head in his hands.
It was evident that you wouldn’t make up before he left. It was clear you were holding grudges against each other that would take a long time to be resolved, but you weren’t willing to give up. You had never loved anyone as deeply as Joost, and at the height of your relationship, you had never felt so loved by anyone before. You had the kind of bond that made people jealous and at times even annoyed because of how well you two were attuned to each other. And to make matters worse, you both were scared to death of being abandoned by the people closest to you, having both made painful experiences regarding that in the past. Now more than ever, you had to fight for love because even though these past few weeks had been among the hardest of your life, you knew you weren’t ready to let him go. Despite all the hardships, you knew Joost Klein was the love of your life.
You stood up from the floor, your legs trembling as you took the suitcase and placed it on the floor in front of Joost.
“Sit,” you ordered him. He looked at you with a puzzled expression.
“Sit down,” you repeated, grabbing his hand to help him up from his position on the bed. He obliged and sat down on the suitcase, the contents compressing under the pressure of Joost’s weight. You crouched down and fumbled for the zipper, closing the carry-on in one go.
You didn’t notice your hand resting on Joost’s lower leg at first, but neither of you seemed to mind it. You lightly rubbed the fabric of his track pants with your thumb as you looked up at him. His eyes looked glassy and tired. There was a bit of confusion there, but also acceptance. The fight might not be resolved, but you hadn’t given up on your relationship yet, and that made him hopeful about the future.
He carefully raised his hands to cup your cheeks. Despite everything, he still looked at you with so much love. You melted under his touch as he brought his lips closer and pressed a soft kiss on your hairline.
“The next packing party will be more fun, I promise,” he chuckled. You couldn’t manage a proper laugh, still so shaken up about the recent events, but as you looked at the now softening expression of your boyfriend, and how delicate he was with you even after everything that had gone down, the corners of your pressed-together mouth turned up almost automatically.
“I love you.”
“Ik hou ook van jou, mijn liefste.”
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percervall · 2 days
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it's a bad idea (fuck it, it's fine) — part 2
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Summary: your housemates give you an offer you can't refuse. What's the worst that could happen? Pairing: Jenson Button x fem!reader, Fernando Alonso x fem!reader, Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: discussions around consent Word count: 827
Part 2 of the Fuck It series
Pushing the plate away from you, you lean back in the chair as you rest the coffee mug on the knee that’s pulled up to your chest. You’re lucky that Fernando is also more of a coffee person and quickly learnt just how you like yours once you moved in. Sometimes you still wonder how on God’s green earth you ended up being roommates with some of motorsports finest. 
Looking around the table, you can’t help but smile as they tease each other about something that happened during the last race. Jenson laughs at Fernando’s misfortune although he is quick to sympathise seeing as they’re in the same boat with regards to their cars being nowhere near Mercedes or even Sebastian’s Ferrari. For as long as you’ve known him, Jenson has always been easy going. His teasing and generally positive attitude is what led to the two of you becoming friends in the first place. And because of that friendship, you became a lot closer to Fernando as well when he rejoined McLaren. The two of them had an easy partnership, both on and off the track, and whenever you joined a race, Jenson made sure to include you in their conversations. Somehow being friends with both of them also meant you got to know Mark a lot better, and in turn Sebastian as well. The Aussie had retired from the sport well before you met Jenson, but he remained a constant in the paddock with his punditry job for Channel4. And from what you were told, the German driver had mellowed out since his RedBull days. The four of them seem to have such a deep understanding of each other, they work together seamlessly. Apparently even more so than you had expected.
And therein also lies the problem. Because while sharing seems to be somewhat normal for them, it makes you wonder where that leaves you in this arrangement. Would it always be like this morning, where they’re all involved in one way or another? How can you make sure it’s equal? Would they take turns? The thought alone has you swallowing thickly as your mind whirls with fantasies. 
“Are you okay, doll?” Jenson’s voice cuts through your thoughts.
“Yeah, yeah. Just-.. Just thinking,” you reply, taking another sip from your now luke-warm coffee. The men share a look that you decide to ignore as you down what’s left of your coffee.
“I don’t regret this morning,” you say, worried they will misinterpret your hesitancy.
“But?” Sebastian fills in for you.
“But it leaves me with. Questions,” you add, not making eye contact. 
“You can ask us anything, sweetheart,” Mark says gently and Jenson gives your knee a squeeze. Taking a moment to gather your thoughts you look out of the window.
“I guess the biggest question I have is how will this work? If we’re really gonna do this, if I’m gonna-.. Will it always be one on one or-.. Or will everyone be involved?” Something like desire swoops low in your stomach as you voice the latter part of the question and you can feel your cheeks heat up. 
“That is very much up to you, sweetheart,” Mark says, as the other three nod in agreement.
“We should have some sort of system, like to check if you’re okay with whatever will happen,” Sebastian offers, “do you have a safe word already?”
“A safe word? I-.. No, my ex wasn’t one for anything other than missionary and the occasional oral,” you confess, stomach in knots at the implications of maybe having to use a safe word. 
“I use traffic light system, very easy to follow and understand,” Fernando comments. Your imagination runs wild with all the possible scenarios in which Fernando would use this system.
“Hey, it’s just a way to make sure it’s fun and pleasurable for everyone,” Jenson says quietly, picking up on the way your head is going about a mile a minute. You nod, taking a deep breath. The longer you think about it, the more sense it makes. Having this in place will make sure, like Jenson said, that everyone is having a good time. You had just never considered that you are allowed to check in and see whether you’re okay with what’s about to happen. While it never felt like you didn’t have a choice in your previous relationship, consent was not something that was actively discussed; It was just always assumed. And in hindsight you maybe let him get away with blurring more boundaries than you had realised. 
“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense,” you say, relaxing back into the chair. 
“Like Mark said, whatever we do, it’s up to you,” Sebastian reiterates. You nod in understanding once more, the knot in your stomach untangling slowly. You had trusted them enough to be roommates for the last year and a half without them overstepping a boundary or taking advantage of you. They care, you think, they’re not him. Fernando presses a kiss to your temple as he pours you another cup.
“It’ll be fun, nena,” he says with a wicked glint in his eyes, and the implications have you clenching your thighs together. Something tells you Fernando could very well be right. 
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A smaller part to establish the relationship between the five of them a little bit more and to set things up for what's to come 👀
Feel free to let me know what you think (or any ideas you have for this series), your comments, tags, and likes means the world to me 💜
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taglist: @2pagenumb @alishamai @anotherblackreader @Barbare2 @blackcat-mors13 @cassielikesreading @champomiel  @dannyramirezwife @darkwaterrose @brklynlewis @the-depressed-fellow @emlynblack @forza55 @heyheyheyggg @hiireadstuff @honkyscats @hrts4scarr @jeffs77 @jaimeleannavanlloman @Leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @lightdragonrayne  @mehrmonga @prttypqrtts @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ruledbyproblematique @scarlett11xo @skatingiswalkingincursive @tallrock35 @thatsadsmallchild @szobosz @vinvantae @whoreforeveryon @woozarts @zagreus
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pitchsidestories · 1 day
Text
hate that I love you II Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 1759
a/n: we hope you enjoy reading the oneshot, we'd love to hear your thoughts on it. <3
warnings: slight smut in the middle, a bit of angst, but with a happy ending.🖤
“Ana!”, Keira shouted the name of your former Barca teammate, after the English midfielder has spotted the Swiss woman in the crowd.
The Champions league final was over, your team has won the title a second time in a row. But the celebratory mood you were in just a few seconds ago was gone at the sight of your ex-girlfriend. It made your blood turn cold.
“Ale, what the hell is Ana doing here? Who even invited her?”, you asked your captain furiously.
In an instant, she noticed your change of mood, that was why the midfielder replied cautiously:” I think some of the girls did or she just came to visit.”
“Oh, wow.”, you huffed, trying to get as far away from your former lover as possible. Seems like you weren’t that lucky this evening in Bilbao, she already had set her eyes on you, calling your name.
“Hi, y/n.”
“Ana. Sorry, but I got to go.”, you lied, while walking into the direction to the changing rooms.
“Where’s she going?”, Ana questioned as she was slowly following you..
“Isn’t that obvious? You broke up with her.”, Alexia reminded the taller woman.
“She still didn’t have to run away.”, the Swiss player mumbled, the hurt was written all over her face.
Meanwhile Keira who has been quiet after hugging her enthusiastically, joined their conversation with a low voice:” No but you ran away first, remember?”
“I didn’t. It was better that way.”, Ana corrected the English woman, before she headed into the changing room where you were standing all by yourself. The party was heading somewhere else already.
You heard her last words loud and clear: ”No, it wasn’t, you’ve chosen the cowardly way after almost four years of being together. You acted like that time meant nothing to you.”
Finally, you got the chance to tell her how devasted you were about her sudden move to Madrid.
“That’s not true. It wouldn’t have worked out long distance and you know that.”, the Swiss player disagreed.
“No, I don’t know that actually, because we never tried it!”, you protested.
“Yeah, sure. You were pouting because I left the team.”, Ana rolled her eyes annoyed at you.
Her behaviour only fed the anger you felt inside.
“Yes, because you told me those transfer news a day before you left for the capitol.”
“Because I knew you’d be pouting.”, she shot back, almost stumbling over the empty champagne bottles which were left on the ground.  
This moment felt almost like a symbol of your failed relationship as it started golden, perfect even, with your first ever champions league win during the covid period, and the following wins, which abruptly ended in shattered hopes and dreams.
You tore your gaze away from the champagne bottles and looked straight at Ana.
“Oh.“, you said, your jaw set. “Sorry that you meant something to me. What a fool I was. Hope you’re happy now.“
Anas face changed from a slight moment to confusion to immediate annoyance: “Oh my god, you can be so damn dramatic!“
“Why are you even here? You ruined a perfect final with your presence.“, you spat back.
Anas eyes sparkled with furiousness: “Oh I’m sorry. Sorry that my friends are still here and that this team still means something to me!“
You were taking aback by how loud her voice had gotten but you kept glaring at her: “Fine. Go and celebrate with them. But leave me alone!“
All of a sudden, you felt Anas weight on you as she pinned you against the wall of the changing room. You had to suppress a surprised shriek.
Ana tilted her head, her lips curved in the smallest hint of a smirk: “Or what?“
“Get your hands off of me!“, you said through gritted teeth.
“Make me.“, your ex-girlfriend challenged you.
In a heartbeat you leaned forward, pressing your lips onto Anas. Just when she started to return the kiss, you bit down hard on her lower lip.
She pulled back: “Hey!“
“Can I go now?“, you asked impatiently.
“No.“
You locked eyes with her again. Your voice was pure ice when you replied. “I hate you so much…“
Anas hand found its way into your ponytail, pulling on it roughly.
You hissed.
“Say that again.“, Ana ordered.
“What? I hate that I still love you…“
Anas grip on your hair loosened. “I know you do.“
“What about you?“, you asked. You hated that your voice still sounded so hopeful when you only wanted to despise the woman in front of you.
Your ex ignored your question deliberately. “You need to shut up now.“
“Go on.“
“I’ll.“
And suddenly, her lips were on yours again. Her body pressed so hard against your own that you could feel her heat on your skin. You kissed back with hunger while Ana shoved her thigh between your legs. Biting back a moan, you began to move against her.
Anas hands, in the meantime, had slipped under your jersey, exploring your skin with the lightest touch.
You knew you should not but you could not stop yourself. It was as if your body had taken control, taking what it had craved for so long.
Ana was in the motion of finally pulling your jersey over your head and your body tingled with excitement, when the door to the changing room was opened.
“Girls, we’re going to party!“, Keiras voice announced, before stopping herself. “Oh, seems like you already started.“
“Come back later.”, the Swiss woman told the midfielder in a casual tone as if the redhead couldn’t see the messy state, you two were in.
“See you girls.”, she muttered and closed the door again much to your own relief.
“Oh my god, that was embarrassing.”, you mumbled against the older player’s chest.
“Whatever. As if she cares.”, Ana shrugged.
“Right, Laura will distract her from what she just saw.”, you smirked while you thought about the happy couple.
“I’m sure.”, the blonde nodded.
“Thank god.”, you sighed, forever gratefully for the Austrian footballer.
“She came in at the worst time though. I was just getting into it.”, the older woman whispered into your ear, although you couldn’t see her face you could hear from her voice that she was smiling.
“Need a reminder where we stopped?”, you looked up to her, eyes sparkling.
“No. Come here.”, Ana shook her head, before continuing what she started, her touches even hungrier than before.
In between you put your hand on her body middle to stop her, asking the one question which was burning hot on your tongue:” Did you miss me in Madrid?”
“Of course. Every day.”, the Swiss player answered truthfully.
 “When why didn’t you say everything? You were multiple times in Barcelona.”, you pressed on.
“You know why.”, she responded quietly, while tucking in a loose string of the hair behind your ear.
“Because it would have made it worse.”, you replied.
“But it was worth to wait.”, Ana said winking, alluding to the fun you had only minutes earlier.
“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”, you laughed at her playful mood.
“Maybe I’m.”, she admitted seriously.
“To be fair so am I.”, you confessed, remembering how the blonde was till able to make your legs go weak.
“Looks like we both are.”, the Swiss woman smiled sadly. There was a melancholy air surrounding your ex-lover and you which couldn’t be waved off.
“Yes, seems like it.”, you agreed.
“So.. want to continue making out or..?”, Ana quickly distracted you from the thoughts which tinted everything sepia coloured like it was a moment from the past, but actually everything what happened was in the present.
“No, let’s stop talking and continue kissing.”, you decided, while turning your words into actions. She gladly obliged to your decision.
In the morning you awoke to Alexia’s cheerful voice, of course your captain was already up:” Y/n, wake up, we got to go!”
Your heart sank when you turned your head to Ana whose eyes were still closed, her arms wrapped around you:” Ana? I’ve to leave.”
“Okay, Barca needs you, I understand that.”, she responded, although the older woman hasn’t let you go yet.
The light of the sun fell through the curtain and gave everything it touched a warm glow including her.
“You can sleep a little longer.”, you offered her heavy-hearted.
“No.“, Ana said. Her voice was still a little hoarse from the sleep but she sounded determined.
“No?“, you echoed.
Ana pulled you closer, whispering into your ear: “I’ll think that I only dreamed this.“
“But it was real.“, you replied, studying her face thoroughly.
With a sigh, she finally let go of you. “Visit me in Madrid.“
A slight smile tugged on your lips as you crawled out of bed: “I’ll. See you there.“
Ana watched you while you got dressed: “Hopefully soon.“
“Promise.“, you said before you grabbed your bag and were out the door.
You could feel her gaze linger on your back as you left.
Alexia was already waiting for you. You were unable to interpret the look on her face but she was eyeing you cautiously as though she was searching for a hint.
When you approached her, she only let out a breath: “You girls.“
You rolled your eyes: “Don’t say anything, Alexia.“
Your captain remained unimpressed by that. Instead, she shrugged with a smirk: “I have to.“
“Fine but quick.“, you gave in. All you wanted to do was go home to Barcelona and sort your thoughts.
Alexias smile grew wider: “You’re the same kind of idiots.“
“Rude.“, you said, more amused than offended.
“It’s true.“
“Maybe a bit… She asked me to visit her in Madrid.“, you admitted quietly.
Your teammate nodded slowly, seemingly unsurprised: “She means it. You two miss each other.“
“I hate that I love her…“
“You can hate it all you want but you need her.“, Alexia replied calmly.
“You’re right.“
You had to finally admit it, your captain knew you better than anyone else on the team. Maybe she was right. Maybe all the hatred and pain you had felt had been unnecessary. Maybe there was an easy solution to this ache you felt in your chest.
That was how you found yourself in Madrid on your next free day. Your heart thumped against your chest as you waited on Anas door step.
Finally, the door opened and her face appeared in the gap.
“Hi.“, you said softly.
A smile of pleasant surprise appeared on Anas lips. “Hi. Come in.“
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AITA for how I reacted after I discovered my ex has herpes?
So I initially was quite sure that I was not the asshole in this situation, but my friend group, who are usually pretty level-headed, seem to be split about it. Thought I'd get some impartial opinions, because if I'm in the wrong, I want to try to make it better.
I (mid 20s, F) recently ran into my ex (mid 20s, F). Over the course of the conversation, she mentioned that she had a flare-up of cold sores. For those who don't know, cold sores are a symptom of HSV-1, or herpes. I asked if she was okay and how long she's been having them. Turns out she was diagnosed with herpes 10 years ago, and she knew she had it but didn't share that with me. Which means I was exposed during the 8 months we were together.
I asked her if she'd had any flare-ups while we were together. She said yes but that she'd taken precautions so it was fine. The thing is, I'm immunocompromised and also have eczema, which means that if I get herpes, it might be quite dangerous for me (encephalitis and eczema herpeticum, for instance).
I shared this with her and asked her if she could remember the specific dates of flare-ups when we were together and if she knew where I could get blood work done (I moved abroad a year ago and don't really know how that works here). She knew about my health conditions before we started dating.
She became upset and said that I was distressing her and accusing her of not caring about my health and trying to pass it to me on purpose.
I tried to say that I was sorry if it came across that way, and that I was just trying to get as much information as possible because of my immune issues. I also tried to add that she might consider sharing her condition with future partners. She raised her voice and said that I was trying to prevent her from moving on and living a regular life.
My perspective is that it was unfair of her not to tell me beforehand so I could take proper precautions in consultation with my healthcare specialist, and that it wasn't unreasonable of me to ask her for more information and to want to get blood work done right away.
Hers is that I'm overreacting and that asking her for the information and being worried about her having herpes is taking things too far and making her out to be a bad person.
Some of my friends agree with me, but the other half think that I shouldn't have asked her anything and just have gone to get tested because I should have seen that it would be an upsetting subject for her.
I'm open to whatever you all think because if I've been unfair to her then of course I want to apologize. Thanks for reading this!
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niceboyeds · 3 days
Text
but daddy i love him (e.m)
pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
summary: sometimes you have to put the gossipers in their place, and sometimes you have to give them something to talk about. inspired by none other than the masterpiece that is The Tortured Poets Department!
contains: bullying, fluff, language, sexual innuendos if you squint, i think that's it but please reach out if i missed anything!
word count: 1.2K
a/n: hi babies I'm baaaack! with that said I'm rusty so please don't hurt my feelings lmao. i have an idea for a smutty pt. 2 if enough of you want it! okay here we go...
(tagging some mutuals so i don’t get lost in the blackhole: @luvmunson @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @munsonology @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @espressomunson 🫶)
masterlist
-----------------------------------
there was always something exciting about being with a bad boy. but then again, there was nothing “bad” about Edward Munson. he may get a bad rap but, aside from his lunchbox goodies, he is a gentleman before anything else. and a damn good lover. 
you sit in the diner with your friends, snickers and snide remarks could be heard all throughout the room and dozens of eyes burn into the back of your head for what felt like the millionth time. unfortunately that’s one of the prices to pay living in a small town like Hawkins.
Eddie is better than you, though, and doesn’t let it get the best of him. and while you know you could never physically fight someone, you still aren’t shy enough to threaten it. you are, to put it gently, less “reserved” with your words, and make sure to put the lonely housewives and their preppy children in their place about their assumptions of him. 
things have gotten worse as your dating life has expanded out beyond the four walls of Eddie’s quaint trailer or the few friendly drunks at the hideout once a week. you and Eddie both craved being together in public and decided long ago that you don’t care who has something to say about it. 
besides, you know who the real Edward Munson is, you don’t believe what the judgmental church-goers or ex-cheerleaders think of you. the only time it gets you is when you can see it hurting him. 
throughout lunch you keep one hand in his, feeling him tense up every so often when he hears his name come out of their mouths. 
“i wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak!” you hear from a group of your old classmates’ table followed by an eruption of laughter. 
Eddie squeezes your hand three times before letting go, scooting his chair out from the table and excusing himself to the restroom. the friends at your table all look to you for the next move, enough looks of defeat for you to end this once and for all. with a soft smile, you throw a $20 bill on the table and rise from your seat. 
“sorry guys.” you sigh, motioning for them to gather their things to leave as you push in your chair and make your way to the table across the room. Dustin trots his way to the restroom to grab Eddie as you hear Robin say your name softly, urging you to leave it be but everyone knows you can’t.
“hey guys! how are you?” you beam at your old friends, doing your best to smile at them. “Stacy, Lauren, Molly…” you exaggerate her name, informing her you heard her comment loud and clear. 
mumbles of good’s and small nods emit from them and their eyes bounce to one another nervously. “aw that’s so good to hear!” you beam, “i’m doing great too, in case you were curious. ya know, i couldn’t help but overhear you guys chatting over here and i just felt like i needed to come say hi.” their smiles drop immediately as you talk, and you let them sit in their fear of what you’ll say next. 
“yeah, you know what they say… once a bitch always a bitch, right?” silence fills the diner and you hear Max cough to cover her giggle at the door. 
“i’m sorry?” Lauren scoffs, genuinely unable to comprehend the fact that you might be putting them in their place. 
“aw, you should be. because let’s face it, it’s pretty embarrassing that we graduated years ago and you still act like this.” you look at them with pure disgust, knowing they haven’t changed in the slightest. you speak with confidence, your tone still friendly, “and to think you used to truly care for me.”
“w-we do still care for you. we just want what’s best for you.” Stacy chirps as the other two nod along with her.
“what’s best for me? pretending like you’re all some fucking saints walking around and saying you’re praying for me to ‘come to my senses’ as if i have no control over my own life? who i love is my choice, so save your prayers for yourself because you’re the most judgmental creeps i’ve ever met.”
you turn to leave, your sweet group of friends still standing by the door waiting for you, Eddie having joined them just in the heat of your argument. reaching for his hand, you crack open the door and turn one last time to their table. 
“and by the way? i’m having his baby!” their eyes widen with horror and their mouths fall agape as you follow Eddie through the door and giggle, skipping to be directly next to him.  
“woah, woah, woah?! you’re pregnant??” Steve asks, genuinely unsure as you laugh at his question. 
“no, i’m not. but oh my god did you see their faces??” 
Eddie chuckles alongside you, and you feel relieved he’s made light of the situation along with you. “yeah, not yet.”
~~~~~~~~
you sit on the couch with Eddie seated directly in front of you on the shaggy carpet. one by one you twirl his messy curls into ringlets with an unfathomable amount of hair products. you feel his once tense body relax against your knees as he twiddles with the frayed pieces of your blue jeans. 
“it’s true, y’know…” he says softly, barely above a whisper. 
“what’s that?” you ponder, curious more-so as to why his tone has saddened during your comfortable silence.
“what they all say. that you’d be better off with someone else- someone other than me..?”
“no, i don’t think they know what the hell they’re talking about.” your hands continue to work on his hair, with only a few sections left you couldn’t allow yourself to leave it be. But you continue to reassure him. 
“Eds, i don’t care that they think i shouldn’t be with you. i want to be with you. I love you. isn’t that what matters? not what all these bored-ass people think, but what we want?” 
“you… you love me?” he turns his head to face you once you drop the final curl back against his head. an ear to ear grin plastered on his face and his eyebrows wiggle. 
“of course i love you, silly. i love you more than i have the words to express.” you tell him truthfully, knowing in your heart that he is the man for you. 
“i love you too. i love you so fucking much.” 
he stands up from his crouching position, pulling you up from the couch with him. your lips instinctively crash into his. 
you interlock your fingers around his neck, trying to bring him closer to you as if you weren’t already impossibly close to him. you sloppily kiss each other before you pull away from him, a small string of saliva still connecting you to him as your lips separate. 
“eww!” you laugh, before pulling him by the hand and dragging him down the hallway to his bedroom. “come on, slow poke!”
“hey! i thought you said you weren’t having my baby.” he teased, bringing up the silly comment you had said earlier at the diner. 
“yeah, not yet.”
116 notes · View notes
beeshoesometimesdraws · 18 hours
Note
Buddy pal friend, show Tumblrrrrrrr your arttttt
Show them the L u n a r ™️
Ramble about them p l e a s e
Hehehehe alien Lunar rambling time >:) including art for visuals
(note: this is just my interpretation/au of the “lunar is technically an alien” thing and it’s very self-indulgent, as all the stuff I create usually is also this may or may not end up becoming canon to the Icarus au, we’ll see)
So starting off, Lunar has a lot of features that are indicators of him being an alien/star-hybrid (my interpretation of the stars is also different though I won’t focus on that here-)
These features are (but not limited to):
Lunar, similar to Toothless from httyd, has retractable teeth (his teeth can retract on command into little pockets in his “gums” aka the silicone alternative of gums that he has)
His teeth are also sharper with much more prominent canines
(also yes he has used this ability to scare/surprise kids as well as family before)
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This isn’t exactly something entirely specific to him but he also has padded hands and feet and retractable claws
The thing that is more so specific to him though is that he is really good at climbing walls as well as other usually hard to climb places as the pads themselves act as natural suction cups
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Lunar and the others are semi-organic (which means they can do things such as properly ingest and digest food and drinks amongst many other things) HOWEVER, Lunar is different in ways than the others
One of these ways being that he doesn’t bleed oil but instead actual blood though it is still of course different from normal human and animal blood
Lunar can be injured much easier than the others due to this though something about his biology allows him to heal quickly, though how long it really takes depends on how severe the wound is
Lunar also has a form that is much more alien-like though they often don’t use it as they’re still getting used to it (the most they use it is during training as its easier to use their abilities then)
This other form gives them other physical traits such as soft and squishy feelers/nubs around their head and along their body that are very sensitive to changes in the air and vibrations as well as touch (he is able to pick up the faintest of sounds and movements using them so it can be very overwhelming)
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Being semi-organic also comes with other abilities (both for Lunar and the others): giving them equipment like tongues as well as other things
This means that any of the cast who are semi-organic are technically able to have kids due to their biology, including Lunar (though due to being part alien their methods are slightly different from the others coughs)
Anyways✨
Along their face and body are star/constellation-like patterns that, while barley visible in the light, glow in the dark/at night
Lunar’s eyes also glow at night and he has amazing night vision (though the ladder is a thing others like Moon and Eclipse possess as well due to coding)
Going back to the patterns; they can technically communicate using them (they just don’t know how to yet-), kind of like how seawings use their bioluminescent markings to communicate in wof, by pulsing and flickering the lights (which Lunar sometimes unintentionally does when they are startled/flustered/upset)
Two versions of Lunar with markings (without light and with)
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I see Eclipse given four arms all the time so why not Lunar? He’s part of Eclipse’s code after all (and part alien now sooooo 4 arms :) )
Moving onto behavior:
Alien Lunar’s behavior is more feral (ex: growling/hissing and baring his teeth when upset or scared)
He is not a complete wild animal or anything like that but he does possess animal-like behaviors such as the one listed above and more (he can get really feral though when he’s super upset or scared or just experiencing other really high emotions)
Other behaviors include:
Zoomies when super excited or happy
Kneading like a cat when sleepy
Other vocalizations like purring (which is more like a rumbly whirr than an actual purr but still) and clicking/chirping and cooing like a dove/pigeon
Lunar tries not to let things like that slip much though they still do and they get embarrassed by it (again they’re still very much getting used to everything)
That’s all I have rn, again this is very self-indulgent and also I’m going into depth about a lot of stuff and being detailed (even with the more “below deck” stuff if you know what I mean even though can’t really say much about that here coughs) cuz I like doing that when creating any kind of biology for species/character stuff, it’s fun and helps build an interesting and complex thing I think
Imma stop rambling now-
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runninriot · 1 day
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inspired by the song Solitude by Black Sabbath, written for @steddiesongfics june song fics
Memories I Have Remind Me Of You
wc: 1999 | rated: T | tags: modern au, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, marriage proposal, dealing with heartbreak and regrets, Steve needs a little push from a stranger to make it right, sad but with a happy ending
The girl is nice. She’s pretty. Big eyes, plush lips, a kind smile, dimples.
Fucking dimples.
Her hair’s long and curly, doesn’t remind Steve of anyone in particular.
It doesn’t.
He does not think about someone else when the warm colour of her brown irises makes him remember.
Steve tries to listen when she talks, tries to laugh when she giggles sweetly, tries not to jerk away when she brushes his hand in a flirty manner but it’s hard to focus when his mind isn’t where it should be.
Did she just ask him a question?
   “You didn’t even listen, huh?”
Steve shakes his head, looks back up at her, tries for an apologetic smile but to his confusion, she doesn’t even seem mad at him for not paying attention.
No, it’s worse.
She’s got that empathic, knowing look in her eyes. Like she can see right through him.
    You’re so easy to read, baby.
He was never good at pretending.
   “I’m not boring you, am I.”
It’s not really a question. The girl knows she’s a good catch, knows she isn’t the problem – Steve is.
   “No, uh. Sorry, I-“
Who is he even trying to fool? No excuse he’s trying to come up with would be good enough because if he looks how he feels, it must be written all over his face. No way to hide the obvious.
I can see it in your eyes, baby. Your eyes always tell the truth.
Steve should’ve known it was a bad idea the moment he saw her picture, noticed the similarities. She instantly reminded him of-
He shouldn’t have agreed to this date.
Not because he doesn’t like her, no. She’s perfect, really. Or she would be.
They matched on a dating app, texted a bit back an forth. She was fun to talk to, made him laugh. And when she asked him if he wanted to meet, he thought that maybe it would help. That maybe this was his sign to finally get his ass back out there. He’d been holed up at home for too long. Sulking, sad, depressed.
Life just hasn’t been the same ever since.
His favourite meal has lost its taste. His favourite songs all sound off-key. Going to his favourite bar just seems like a waste of time - Steve’s life has lost its light, making everything seem dark and grey and dull.
Nothing is right anymore because everything reminds him of Eddie.
And Steve himself is the one to blame for his misery.
   “I-“ Steve hesitates. He doesn’t want to bother her with his mess, didn’t come here to whine about things he can’t change. She didn’t come here to listen to him talk about his goddamn ex for fuck’s sake!
   “What’s wrong?” she asks and Steve knows there’s no point in trying to pretend that everything’s fine when nothing ever is. Not anymore.
   “I’m sorry for being such bad company,” Steve apologises and means it. She deserves better, could’ve gone on a date with someone worth spending her time with.
Someone actually interested in... something. Anything. Whatever it is she’s looking for.
Steve’s not it, that much is clear.
He’s not ready to move on. Maybe he never will be. Because what he had was all he ever wanted, all he ever needed to be happy. Life was good, perfect, before he ruined it all. Let the love of his life slip away because he was too afraid of the what ifs. So he pushed and he fought and he hurt the one that would’ve given him everything.
Now, Steve is just an empty shell of the man he used to be. Because the day Eddie left, he took Steve’s heart and soul with him, left him empty and broken and sad.
So fucking sad.
   “You remind me of my ex.” The words are out before he can swallow them back down.
   “Oh,” she answers, expression neutral. “Bad break-up?”
Steve nods. He doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to think about the day his whole life fell apart but-
   “It was my fault. He left me because I fucked it up.”
The truth still hurts, even after all those months.
   “What did you do?”
Steve and Eddie had met through a mutual friend, Dustin. It wasn’t quite love at first sight but close to it.
They quickly became friends, started hanging out on weekends, then, soon, even during the week. Spending the evenings after work at each other’s places, cooking dinner together, watching movies, talking.
Steve had never felt so drawn to another person, had never felt so comfortable in someone else’s presence. Eddie was... he was funny, kind, loud and wild. He had all these big dreams about what he wanted to do with his life. Dreams that were so very different from the small-town life Steve had always resigned himself to. Eddie wanted to travel the country, sleep under the stars, wake up next to a lake, follow the wind to wherever it would take him.
He wanted to be free.
But he stayed.
Eddie stayed because when they shared their first kiss in a weak moment of alcohol-fuelled recklessness, they ignited a fire that became too big too fast, making it impossible to smother the flames before they turned into burning desire that took a hold of them both. Scorching its way into their hearts where it settled, warm and bright, making light in every dark corner of their being.
It was the second first kiss that sealed their fate – a sober, slow, and tentative kiss in the low light of the morning sun that wiped away any worries and doubts Steve had when he woke up in Eddie’s arms after a night spent giving into their unspoken feelings as they took each other apart, not thinking about the consequences.
Knowing what it was like to wake up next to each other made it impossible to go back to simply being friends, to stay apart, to not fall in love.
Eddie and Steve were meant to be.
Together, everything felt right.
Eddie willingly put his own dreams aside for Steve who knew he could never repay him for the sacrifices he made just to be with him, tried to thank him every day by showing and telling him how much he loved him. And things were good, perfect.
Until-
   “I don’t understand,” she says quietly when Steve takes a moment to breathe away the ache in his heart and the tears threatening to spill, “that sounds like a dream come true. What happened?”
Steve smiles sadly, sighs.
   “Yeah, felt like a dream, too. But the thing with dreams is that no matter how beautiful they are, inevitably you will wake up.”
And a beautiful dream it was. Life was full of love and laughter and happy moments spent together, until Eddie proposed and Steve said No and the world tumbled down.
Because it was in that moment – with Eddie down on one knee, the simple gold ring Steve knew had belonged to Eddie’s uncle held between his thumb and finger as an offer, a promise to be his forever – that Steve realised he couldn’t do this to him. He couldn’t marry Eddie and keep him trapped in a life he never wanted just because Steve was too scared of giving up the safety of his home for a life on the road with no destination ahead and an unforeseeable future.
Steve said no to set him free but even then Eddie kept fighting for him, fucking apologised for putting ‘so much pressure’ on Steve with his question which- was insane because Eddie had done nothing wrong, ever. He had never been anything but wonderful and considerate and perfect. Steve had been the one not willing to compromise, who inadvertently put Eddie in a cage of his own making.
So he pushed and he fought and he hurt Eddie in order to give him back his freedom, thinking, believing he was doing the right thing. It was only when Eddie packed his bags and left that Steve realised he had made the biggest mistake of his life.
The moment Eddie walked out the door without looking back, Steve knew he had lost everything.
 
   “Where is he now?”
   “Hm?”
   “Eddie. Where did he go?”
   “I, uh...” Steve shouldn’t know the answer to this but he does. Because Dustin told him. Tells him whenever he gets a call or another letter from Eddie, ignoring the fact that it tears Steve apart every time. Or maybe he does it on purpose, punishing Steve for hurting his friend. And Steve lets him, never complains, always holds back his tears until he’s back in his fortress of solitude, where he can drown in his pain and sorrow.
He deserves to suffer for what he did.
   “He’s in Michigan.”
   “Huh.” She cocks her head, smiles. “It’s been what, 5 months you said? Pretty sure he could’ve gotten a lot further by now.”
   “What do you mean?”
   “For someone who’s always wanted to travel the whole damn country, he didn’t make it that far.”
   “Eddie never made plans on where he wanted to go. Maybe he found a nice place to stay for a while before he lets his heart take him somewhere else.”
   “Staying conveniently close for no reason whatsoever. Got it,” she scoffs.
Steve looks at her with pleading eyes, needs her to stop giving him ideas, can’t allow himself to let hope bloom.
   “He’s free to go wherever he wants.”
   “Maybe what Eddie really wants is for you to tell him to come home.”
Her words hit him hard like a slap across the face, ringing loudly in his ears.
   “What if- What if he doesn’t?”
   “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
 -------
   “You left me.”
It’s not meant as an accusation, sounds like one though. And Steve can see in the way Eddie furrows his brows and tightens his lips, that it wasn’t the right thing to say.
   “You told me to.” Eddie’s answer is short but calm, not filled with anger like Steve expected.
   “I wanted you to stay!”
He knows it isn’t fair because Steve did tell him to leave. What right does he have to want him back, to ask for forgiveness?
   “I didn’t want you to leave but I was scared that you’d wake up one day and realise that being with me isn’t enough. That being in love isn’t worth giving up your dreams. You shouldn’t have to give up your dreams for me! I should’ve gone with you. I love you. I-”
Steve is crying, can’t stop shaking. He’s so angry at himself, feels so powerless and stupid. And Eddie just stands there and stares at him confused like he doesn’t know that Steve would do everything for a second chance.
Just when Steve is about to give up, turns to go because if he stays here any longer, he’ll fall to his knees and make an even bigger fool of himself than he already has, two strong arms wrap around him from behind, keeping him from walking away.
   “Don’t go,” Eddie whispers into his hair, tightens his grip to emphasise his words. “Stay.”
It’s what Steve should’ve said all those months ago, when he said the opposite instead.
Slowly, Steve turns within the arms holding him until he’s facing Eddie again. Eddie, who is so close now, Steve could bring their lips together by only moving in another inch or two. Could kiss away the tears running down Eddie’s cheeks.
   “I can’t live without you, Eddie.”
   “Then let me be with you.”
Their third first kiss is an angry one, rough and desperate. Full of regrets they swallow from each other’s lips, drinking them up to make them go away. To make it better. To make it right.
   “Marry me, Steve.”
The answer comes easy this time - one word, a promise.
Forever, never apart, wherever it'll take them.
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kingshovelbug · 2 days
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Hii what is your best advice to younger adults trying to make it independently and make a living? In art, savings or anything you think of. Thank you in advance!
dont be too hard on yourself. its tough out there right now in regards to like everything regardless of what old people say. also this is going to be a lot so im slapping a read more on here
⭐️ first thing id recommend for anyone is to start figuring out a budget. figure out how much youre making monthly. keep all your food receipts for a month or two to see what youre spending on food. find out what youre paying for thats necessary like utilities and whats not
the goal for a budget (or at least mine) is to find a good balance of earning vs spending. im paying off my credit card right now because i ran through all my savings after we had to move last year but my goal used to be to save 1/4 of what i earned after bills and putting money into an emergency fund (usually an emergency fund is 3 months worth of expenses). but it depends on how much you can comfortably put away. if you can put more away do it. but if you never spend money and deprive yourself of joy youre going to burn yourself out regardless of what your job is
⭐️ if youre not already buy store brand for as much shit as you can. if its an ingredient i promise as someone who cooks and bakes you probably wont notice the difference. if its an actual snack it depends. again both from a money perspective and to boycott pro-isreal companies we get a lot of snacks from aldis and theyre awesome. i dont miss anything from mars, oreos etc when i have my chocolate coconut wafers
⭐️ if you have any subscriptions and you need to get rid of something you can probably cancel them. for *most* things theres some kind of free alternative. but again just like with a budget. there are going to be some subscriptions that make your life easier and while youd save money without them it would lead to extra work and burning out. ex willow has kofi gold because it has really cool extra features that help with running the shop. but for streaming services? im going to be so honest. both to save money and with how cheeky streaming companies (in a bad way) have been getting… you can find whatever you want to watch online for free
if you need to use anything from the microsoft office suite, but youre not required by youre job to specifically use microsoft, libreoffice is a free alternative that i actually like better. its what i use to help willow run their shop and its free
for art programs. if you still have photoshop switch. not just for money reasons. adobe is getting bold with what they can claim as their content and use from what people produce in their program. the switch isnt the easiest but there are a bunch of alternatives. some free some like csp offer one time licenses which are so much better than subscriptions. will has spent almost $2k on photoshop and after effects from using it as long as they have. when csp is $50 and they like csp better anyways. i also know of krita and fire alpaca which are free
⭐️ also theres stuff about being an adult that i thought you had to pay for but you dont? like for car insurance i went through an independent insurance agent and they found me a cheaper plan than i could find myself. i didnt pay the guy. they get a cut from the insurance company for finding them another customer. some banks or credit cards offer financial advising sessions to users. its boring but if you can get a copy of your health insurance see if they have any free shit on there thats available for you. my brother gets free doctor finding? like i can call them, tell them what specialist he needs and instead of me calling around to find one that can take him, they connect me with someone. my work offers 3 free therapy sessions (better than nothing) and free food that i take advantage of
⭐️ i think one of the biggest things that makes an impact for us is researching before buying stuff. sounds like a no brainer but you dont just want to find the cheapest deal. you want to find the best bargain, the best bang for your buck. whats the best quality thing you can get that you can also afford? itll prevent your from having to replace stuff all the time and by extension spending more than you need to. we have nonstick pots and pans that are scratched and starting to peel (which apparently can cause cancer??) that were cheap because of being on sale. now after looking into what makes quality cookware i know i should of just slowly bought stainless steel
⭐️ last big one. credit cards. unfortunately we need them so find one with a low apr and that offers decent cash back. use it up to like 20% of your limit and pay it off every month. focus on using it on things that will get you cash back so you can essentially get free money
im sure i could ramble more but this is already super long
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spoilers for iwtv s2e5!!!
initial thoughts throughout:
dubai armand in this ep specifically seems a lot happier than normal. very smiley and kind of excited? like more energy than usual. mans was ready to eat
this fucking turtleneck
loumand library dates
hypnotized security as one does
i like that armand likes to hunt his kills. thought it was a cool detail
made me think of when armand tells daniel to run in the book
daniel was there for gay sex the drugs were just a bonus
he barely registered the coffin. he was like ok ig
the zodiac killer lol
daniel struggling to get the tape out of the plastic lmao
some coke for the gums just in case
you were lonely louis (gagged him)
the extreme change in vibe from daniel shitting himself about louis being a vampire to him laughing along while louis complains about his ex
book quotes!!
daniel validating louis complaining about lestat. theyre just gossiping at this point
BIG time asshole
daniel making A Point and then going sorry and louis saying no,,,,,that🫵was astute🗣🗣
“can u do the fang thing again? i love that, man” hes just like me fr
dangerously unstable psyche ((clocked))
im kinda with her get off that bench brother😭 [about claudia leaving]
jacob the actor you are
ok this whole argument between louis and armand was insane and i replayed it like a million times
kinda love louis coked tf out
being called boring fucking hurts thats a wild argument
he called you a soft beige pillow suffocating him girl u gotta stand up
armand really locked on to the word fascinating
louis said lick my boots😝
gremlin sighting👀
“chop my hands off”👀👀👀👀
picking LINT❓❓off the sofa⁉️ ⁉️
armand mocking him “oh its so hard to be me, its so hard to kill humans, i can feel her feelings as i drain her, louis de point du lac, everyone i know wronged me!”
imitating each others accents
my vampire daddy groomed me into a little bitch holy fuck when they go low i go lower
THE NAME!! the name!! unuttered in our home for 23 years said over and over again until it was pounding in my brain like a hammer!!!!
assad deserves every award my man was actiiiinnggg
she didnt love you/i know
louis :(((
“can u hear her? shes calling me…” ok what if i kms
and then louis runs into the sunlight🙃
hello loml: practical effects
sidestep the big picture get the story straight first daniel said lets lock the fuck in rn we gotta focus
“you said the worst things youve ever said to me” hes just a sopping wet cat
hes fine youre fine this is fine youre all fine
finally seeing unhinged armand ive prayed for times like these
i stand by my cancelled wife btw
small detail of different memories: in louis’ version he apologizes to armand and armand says “meaningless word” and then moves on to talk about the slanted floor. in daniel’s version he remembers the dead guy and the same scene plays out except armand explains he killed the neighbor in between “meaningless word” and how the floor is slanted
vibrating eyes
LOVING how this episode is shot. all the different angles and the camerawork and the fucking MUSIC
canon that louis fucks guys and then kills them fic writers get to it
“128 boys hes brought here—“ “he said it was 5🥺”
daniel basically saying look man ill suck ur dick if u let me go
and then armand making him kneel
armand so unnerving <3
i know its kinda dumb to point out but i love small details of vamp power. specifically how armand picked up that table like it weighed nothing and when he picked up louis
love the idea of louis being like ok just put your feet in the rocks itll help
sopping wet cat armand!!!
but also he really let louis suffer for days instead of just giving him blood to ease the pain😬
lestats voice caught me off guard genuinely
interesting that armand knows where lestat is. i wonder how the show is gonna go about it. is he in the ground??
and refusing to pass along the i love you message……….theres layers here
u left me for death :((
have i atoned for my part of paris👀👀
the armand daniel bite was very do u know what it means to be loved by death
itty bitty armand fangs
need him alive as a testament to our companionship wtf are we even talking about anymore
arun/maitre😵‍💫
the fucking sunglasses im pissing😭😭
he got that shit on tho
welcome back trinity from the matrix
also just the fact that armand came back like yum i had so much fun on that hunt😁 anyway what are you two up to😇☺️
and louis and daniel just had a harrowing 2 hours trying to recover lost memories and coming to the realization that theyve been mega gaslit for decades
armand saying exactly what louis told daniel word for word
a hunch🫢
i love this show
im so excited for next weeks episode this story is unfolding so beautifully. im even more curious now about why and how this second interview is happening. ((also am very confused/curious about what looks like a protest in the promo??))
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cupcakemolotov · 3 days
Text
Ex's and Oh's: Part Two
Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known; Minor Character Death; Magical Realism; We Make War Not Love; Post-Divorce; These Two Fools in Love; Klaus and Caroline Being Territorial; for each other; tyler is dead; kind of; Canon-Typical Violence; Violence; Murder; Werewolf!Klaus; Human!Caroline
Caroline's return to New Orleans is a little less triumphant than she'd like. There is a dead body in her trunk and a magical artifact in her passenger seat, and no matter how much she'd like too, the chances of avoiding her ex-husband are astronomically small. What, with the mate bond and all, but a girl's gotta hope.
“Caroline, why are we here?” Bonnie asked as she looked around at the familiar bar they’d once visited regularly before. Before.
Caroline looked up from her pile of beer battered fries. “I missed you?”
Bonnie gave her a look. “I missed you too, but I expected this chat to happen like, three days from now. You know, once you settled in and actually had the time to try that thing most of us do called communicating with your ex.”
“We should definitely go out again soon,” Caroline agreed with a nod. “This time with cocktails instead of beer, maybe during that dinner you could give me a list of who these mythical ex’s of yours are that you’d willing talk to. I only have the Curse on Sight bullet point list saved to my phone.”
“Caroline,” Bonnie said in fond exasperation. “You know what I mean. When you called and asked for your boxes, I was expecting to play delivery girl, not go out for an impromptu dinner. Please tell me you’re not doing this to avoid Klaus.”
“Hey,” Caroline protested as she gestured towards her food. “I’m hungry, and being hangry cannot improve this situation on any level.”
“Sure,” Bonnie drawled, “but there is no way you can convince me Klaus doesn’t have food in his house. I know how many calories werewolves consume in a day and it’s a lot.”
“He might have a house full of food, but there was nothing to eat.” Nothing she wanted. Not a single emergency bag of Doritos, no chocolate bars tucked away on a shelf, no decent cheese. The freezer hadn’t even contained a quart of emergency ice cream. She wanted to eat her feelings, and Bonnie was lucky she’d agreed to actual food instead of eating her weight in pie.
“Fine, I’ll give you that,” Bonnie allowed. “I’m not saying you owe him anything, but did you at least tell him you were going out?”
“Klaus,” Caroline said with false cheer. “Wasn’t there when I woke up, so I decided he didn’t get an opinion.”
Bonnie groaned and covered her eyes. “Haven’t you had enough rampaging werewolves today?”
“Eh,” Caroline said dismissively. “This morning was hardly a rampage, and you know it. Besides, torturing Tyler is absolutely a form of stress relief. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Probably. Bonnie was right, it would definitely piss him off that she’d left, and what she’d left him would not improve the situation. Dunking a fry into her pile of ketchup, she wrestled with the truth that she wasn’t in a mood yet to improve things.
I know a war when I see one.
Those words had haunted her as she’d fallen asleep, and had resonated in her chest when she’d woken. This felt like a war. Her own personal fight for something she wanted so badly she’d buried it under the ash and smoke of her temper, the scorched earth of her hurt. Wanted so badly and yet, no idea how to move past that anger.
Bonnie made a noise. “I knew we should have gone to Marcel’s.”
Her jaw clenched so hard, Caroline thought she could hear her teeth grinding. “No pack.”
“You can’t avoid them forever.” The words were said carefully, her best friend far too aware of that sore-point.
“Oh, I won’t,” Caroline said, flashing her teeth. “I really, really won’t.”
Thoughtfully, Bonnie relented enough to pick up her own fry. “What did Klaus tell you before he went off torture Tyler’s remains?”
Caroline shrugged. “He’s made changes, he’s the almighty ruler who rules with an iron fist, murder murder, the usual.”
I miss you.
She missed him.
Muttering something pithy, Bonnie pulled out a small bundle of herbs and dumped them on a convenient plate between them. A moment later, the familiar scent of burning sage brought a deluge of memories of ten years ago, and Caroline swallowed past the unexpected lump in her throat.
How often had she and Bonnie sat in this booth with sage burning between them, tipsy from cocktails? How many burgers had been consumed in the name of girl’s night? How often had she wished she could do this again as she sat alone in a random diner, eating pie and rapidly texting the second most important person in her life?
“Caroline,” Bonnie huffed. “You know people are straining to hear every word you say. People have been staring for the last ten minutes, there is no way the locals aren’t already gossiping.” Pointedly she glared at someone over Caroline’s shoulder.
“Nothing I said so far should be a surprise, they’ve all lived with his ego as long as I have.” Caroline said, emphasizing her words with the jab of a french fry.
Bonnie made a face in silent agreement. “I am absolutely not on team Klaus, but this separation hasn’t been easy for either of you.”
Caroline looked away for a moment, because she didn’t know how to explain the tangle in her chest, the way it’d felt like a fist when she’d woken alone in a bed that smelled just like her best dreams. Tired, bruises stiff and aching, she wanted him there and she was mad he wasn’t, and she was mad at herself for being mad about it. Showering had required that she clench her hands into fists not to sniff test everything in the shower, wanting his scent in her lungs.
“I know.” Her lips flattened. “I don’t know how to do easy anymore, Bonnie.”
“When have you ever?”
Caroline reluctantly smiled. “Klaus and I… we didn’t really have a lot of time to talk before he had to leave.” She would have been mad about that, that he’d disappeared so soon after the first time they’d seen each other in years, but she was firmly anti-zombie, so she had decided to be gracious about it. She just wasn’t sure what to do about the rest of it. What they had said. Their conversation had felt too personal, too raw to repeat out loud. “He wants me to stay.”
“Oh, he definitely wants more than that,” Bonnie muttered.
A03: Part 2
Please remember all my fanfic has been locked due to AI Bots scraping A03.
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cheynovak · 23 hours
Text
Something fragile - Part 3   
Soldier Boy x F/Reader Y/N          
Warnings:  18+, Sex, age difference ( not explicit), daddy issues, family trauma, ... 
Side note: English isn’t my first language   
Words:  4570 
*Does not follow the boys storyline *
 
(I may have been a little inspired by 🥵*that one scene* 🥵in Devour... IYKYK )
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--    
Soldier boy just got out of Russia thanks to the boys. But his journey back to reality has been fucked up. After the explosion he ran to recover his blackout, meeting y/n a young woman on her way home from volunteering at the veteran shelter. Seeing how he looked confused, offering him help.    
After helping him by allowing him to stay with her for a while she might get some help from him as well, now her past is trying to fight its way back into her life. 
-- 
Y/N awoke to the soft light filtering through the curtains of her tiny cabin. As she stretched, she felt the warmth of Ben next to her, his presence a comforting weight against her side. Memories of the night before flooded back, reminding her of the passion they shared in the darkness, afterwards seeking unspoken solace in each other's arms. 
Each day seemed to draw them closer, each night they ended up in tangled sheets, even though she had promised herself not to get involved with men anymore since Peter.
Using him purely for physical destress isn't getting involved right? He sure didn't seem to mind.
Y/N had little time to contemplate the depth of their 'relationship'. Today, she had an interview to prepare for. Thanks to her shitty ex boyfriend finding a new job seemed hard.
With a sigh, Y/N reluctantly peeled herself away from Ben's embrace, the chill of the morning air kissing her skin as she slipped out of bed. She moved with practiced grace, the soft sway of her hips accentuated by the tight pencil skirt she had chosen for the occasion. It hugged her curves in all the right places, a silent declaration of confidence and power. 
As she gathered her things, Y/N heard Ben stir behind her. Turning to face him, she couldn't help but smile at the sight of him tousled hair and sleepy-eyed, a stark contrast to the rugged charm he exuded even in his most dishevelled state. 
"Morning," she greeted, her voice soft yet laced with the subtle undercurrent of desire that always seemed to simmer between them. 
"Morning," Ben replied, his gaze trailing over her figure appreciatively. "Where are you off to so early, it’s Thursday, you don’t volunteer today?" Y/N hesitated for a moment, "I have a job interview," she admitted finally, her words tinged with a hint of reluctance. 
Ben arched an eyebrow inquisitively. "And what exactly do you do besides volunteering at the help centre?" 
Y/N paused, her mind racing as she debated how much to reveal. She had always been guarded when it came to her career, her past experiences leaving her wary of letting anyone too close.  
"I'm a lawyer," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. 
Ben's eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of admiration and curiosity flickering behind his gaze. "A lawyer, huh?" he mused, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I should've known you had more dark secrets." 
Y/N couldn't help but laugh at his teasing tone, the tension easing from her shoulders. “Well, wish me luck.” she said before rushing out the door.  
-- 
Y/N's heart sank as she trudged down the familiar path towards the help centre, the weight of the failed interview pressing down on her shoulders like a leaden cloak. Another bureau that got a bad review from her former boss. The asshole!   
She had been so sure this opportunity was the one, the chance to prove herself. But now, all she felt was the bitter sting of disappointment, the harsh reality of her situation crashing down around her. 
Lost in her thoughts, Y/N barely noticed the figure waving frantically from the doorway of the help centre until she was nearly upon it. Squinting against the harsh glare of the midday sun, she recognized the familiar silhouette of her friend Tom, another volunteer at the centre.
"Y/N! Come inside, I need to talk to you!" Tom called out, his voice cutting through the haze of her thoughts like a lifeline. With a weary sigh, Y/N obediently followed Tom into the dimly lit interior, the familiar scent of stale coffee and old books wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.  
She sank into a nearby chair, exhaustion seeping into her bones as she let the weight of the day wash over her. 
Tom took one look at her and sighed, his normally jovial demeanour replaced by a somber seriousness that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. 
"I'm sorry to lay this on you now, Y/N, but there's something you need to know," Tom began, his voice grave. He showed her the letter that Peter gave that morning. “And I think it’s best you hear it from me.”  
Y/N's heart skipped a beat, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach as she braced herself for whatever news he had to share. 
"It's about your father," Tom continued, his gaze unwavering. "He's asking to reduce his sentence and to get out of jail." 
Y/N's blood ran cold at the mention of her father, memories of him flooding back with painful clarity. She had thought she had finally escaped his shadow, finally found a semblance of peace in a world that had always been tainted by his presence. 
"And Peter..." Tom trailed off, his expression darkening with unspoken anger. Y/N's breath caught in her throat hearing his name. "He's agreed to take on his case," Tom finished, his voice thick with emotion. 
Y/N felt like the ground had been ripped out from beneath her, the world spinning wildly as she struggled to make sense of the chaos unfolding around her.  “Go home, try to focus on something else. Or you know, you do you. Fight your dad’s release.”  
Y/N's hands tightened around the steering wheel as she navigated the familiar twists and turns of the road leading to her cabin. The drive had always been a source of solace for her, a chance to clear her mind and escape the chaos of the world outside.  
But today, with the weight of her failed interview and the looming threat of her father's release pressing down on her, even the tranquil beauty of the countryside offered little comfort. 
As she pulled into the gravel driveway, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach. She knew she couldn't keep running from her problems forever, couldn't keep burying her fears beneath a facade of strength and resilience. But for now, all she craved was a moment of respite, a chance to lose herself in something, anything. 
Stepping out of the car, Y/N took a deep breath, the crisp air filling her lungs as she made her way towards the cabin. Y/N's pulse quickened as she stepped into the cozy warmth of her cabin, her eyes immediately drawn to the sight of Ben reclining on the couch.  
“What are we eating?” He asked without look up at her. In that moment, her mind went blank, consumed by a tidal wave of raw emotion. 
Without a second thought, she crossed the room in quick strides, her heart pounding in her chest as she closed the distance between them. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed her purse aside, the thud of it hitting the floor drowned out by the rush of blood in her ears. 
The sound made him look up a second before she took the remote out of his hands. Straddling Ben's hips, Y/N felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, the heat of his body searing against her skin as she hovered above him.
His confusion shown on his face, but it changed quickly into something else, a flicker of anticipation, heat. He liked this rawness of her. 
Y/N lifted the hem of her skirt, the fabric sliding up her thighs as she exposed herself to him completely. And then, without a word, she crashed her lips against his, a desperate hunger driving her forward as she kissed him while lowering his sweatpants. 
Ben responded eagerly, his hands finding her hips as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. With a low growl of desire, Ben's hands tightened on Y/N's hips and thighs as he grinds her against him, the friction igniting a firestorm of need between them.  
Without hesitation, Y/N lowered herself onto him, their bodies melding together in a primal need. Their movements were urgent, raw, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through their veins. There were no words only the desperate moans filling the air. 
The sound of their ragged breaths mingled with the soft creak of the couch, and then, with a final, guttural moan of ecstasy, they tumbled over the edge together.  
Ben grinned at her when she climbed off his lap, loving this new Y/N. So needy and hot, he watched Y/N pull down her skirt, his eyes still dark from their quick fuck. "Bad day, huh?" he jokes only to get ignored.  
Y/N offered him a small smile in response, her lips trembling with unspoken emotion. She didn't trust herself to speak, the weight of her day pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket. Instead, she simply nodded, silently grateful for the comfort of his presence. 
"Got it," Ben yelled while she walked away, his tone warm as he reached for his phone to order pizza. "No cooking tonight." 
With a grateful sigh, Y/N disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing softly against the walls as she sought solace in the soothing embrace of a hot shower. As the steam enveloped her, she let herself relax for the first time that day, the tension melting away beneath the gentle caress of the water. 
Minutes turned into an hour as she lost herself in the simple pleasure of being alone, the rhythmic thrum of the water a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.  
And when she finally emerged from the bathroom, the steam from her shower dissipating into the air as she took in the sight of Ben hovering near the door, a curious expression on his face. 
"I was just about to knock," Ben remarked, a sheepish grin playing at the corners of his lips. "Where's the money for the delivery guy?" Y/N smiled fondly at his eagerness, reaching into her purse to retrieve her wallet.  
With a thankful wink, she made her way to the door, pulling it open to reveal the pizza delivery guy waiting patiently on the other side. 
"Sorry for the delay," she apologized, her voice warm as she handed him the cash. "Keep the change." The delivery guy grinned in appreciation, nodding his thanks before turning to leave. Y/N closed the door behind him. 
The silence between them stretched on as they ate on the couch while watching something on the tv that Ben wanted to see, the only sound in the cabin beside the soft rustle of paper as they reached for another slice of pizza and the occasional flicker of the fire crackling in the fireplace.
Despite the warmth of their surroundings, a palpable tension hung in the air. 
Ben couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, the weight of Y/N's unspoken turmoil casting a shadow over their shared meal. He watched her carefully while she ‘watched’ tv and ate. 
Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, Ben cleared his throat, his voice gentle yet firm as he broached the subject that had been weighing on his mind since Y/N's arrival. 
"I don't mind you coming home and immediately go for a quick fuck, Y/N," he began, his words measured. "But that isn’t you, what's wrong?"  
Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, the lump of emotion lodged in her chest threatening to choke her. She had always prided herself on her strength and independence, on her ability to face the world. 
With a deep sigh she pushed the slice of pizza on the table. "I didn't get the job," she admitted, the admission hanging heavy in the air between them like a lead weight. “So? You’ll find another one.” he said bluntly.  
“That's not all." With a heavy sigh, she continued, the words tumbling from her lips in a rush of desperation and despair. "My father might get out of jail," she confessed, the admission leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. "And it's all because of Peter." 
Ben's brows furrowed in confusion, his mind racing to make sense of her words. "Peter? That fucking nutjob ex boyfriend?" he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. 
Y/N nodded, her gaze dropping to her lap as she struggled to contain the storm of emotions raging within her. "He's agreed to take on my father's case," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how, I don't know why, but somehow he's managed to convince himself that my father deserves a second chance." 
Ben's jaw tightened at the mention of Peter's name, a surge of anger coursing through his veins at the thought of the man who had caused Y/N so much pain and heartache. He knew all too well the depth of their history, the wounds that still lingered beneath the surface despite the passage of time. 
"I won't let him hurt you, Y/N," Ben said, his voice firm with determination. “Not Peter, not your father.” She smiled soft, knowing he meant what he said. "I'm here to help you with your demons, Ben. Not the other way around.” 
“Yeah, well, I still have a whole list of people I need to get to.” Y/N knew he meant to kill. “What’s adding another head or two.” He winked before biting into his pizza slice and turning back to watch the tv.  
She knew he meant it, he would do that for her, and to be honest, she thought about it for a second. Y/N's eyes lingered on Ben's face, taking in the lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the way the soft light from the TV danced across his features.  
She couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude and longing, her heart swelling with emotions she could barely contain. Ben, sensing her gaze, smirked and glanced over at her. "Stop staring," he teased gently, his voice soft but playful. "Relax." 
But instead of relaxing, Y/N felt an urgent need pulse through her veins, a longing for closeness, for reassurance. Without thinking, she scooted closer to him, her body gravitating towards his warmth. She nestled against him, her head resting on his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist. 
Ben stiffened slightly at her unexpected affection, not used to seeing her in such a cuddly mood. He looked down at her, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his eyes.
Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with vulnerability when she tried to explain herself, with her voice barely above a whisper. "Today was hard, and I... I just... I just need a... hug.” His heart melted at her words, the walls he had built around himself crumbling in the face of her honesty.  
Gently, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer and pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "Hm, fine," he murmured grumpy, not wanting to admit he liked the feeling of this.  
For a moment, they simply held each other, the quiet hum of the TV the only sound breaking the stillness of the cabin. Ben's hand started to gently stroked her back, the rhythmic motion calming her racing heart.  
The following weeks were a whirlwind of preparation for Y/N as she geared up to face her father in court. The news of his court date had hit her hard, but the opportunity to protest his release gave her a sense of purpose and determination she hadn't felt in a long time. 
Ben, understanding the gravity of the situation, made it his mission to support her in every way he could. He knew better than to hover, so instead, he found small ways to make her life easier.  
He took charge of meals, well, if ordering takeout from her favourite places is taking care of a meal. But he meant well, she stayed nourished without having to worry about cooking.  
Every evening, he helped her unwind, providing a 'much-needed physical release' for her stress, something if he is honest about, they both enjoyed. Y/N appreciated Ben's silent support more than words could express.
And more often than not she ended up in a newfound comfort, his arms.  
One evening, as she pored over her notes and legal documents, Y/N looked up to see Ben entering the room with a tray of sushi, her favourite. He placed it gently on the table beside her, offering a reassuring smile. 
She looked confused, waiting for him to give a sneer on the fuck up raw fish trend, or something, but no he didn't.
"Thought you could use a break, this is what you like, isn't it?" he said softly. She smiled, feeling a rush of gratitude. "You're amazing, you know that?"
He smirked, “Yeah yeah, I know.” he looked at the books she had placed on the table, while he bit in his burger he ordered. "A lot of work?"
Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's a lot, yeah. But I have to do this. I can't let him walk free."  
The night before the court date, Y/N found herself unable to sleep, her mind racing with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. Sensing her restlessness, Ben pulled Y/N close, his arms wrapping around her protectively.  
He could feel the tension radiating from her body, the weight of the impending court date pressing down on her. "Try to get some sleep," he murmured, his voice gentle as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face.  
"Do you want me there with you tomorrow?" His words surprised her. But Y/N shook her head, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and resolve. "No, Ben. You can't be seen in public. It would complicate things even more." 
With a soft hum he agreed and place his head back on his pillow. "I'll be here, waiting for you when you get back.” He murmured half asleep. Y/N leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Thank you, Ben," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. 
They lay together in silence for a while, Ben's hand gently rubbing soothing circles on her back. Gradually, the tension began to ease from Y/N's body, the warmth and safety of Ben's embrace lulling her into a state of calm, her eyes drifting closed as she snuggled closer to him.  
The next day 
Y/N stood outside the courtroom, her heart pounding with a mix of anger, anxiety, and determination. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the confrontation ahead. The sight of Peter approaching made her blood boil, and she couldn't contain the surge of emotions that erupted within her. 
Peter's eyes widened in surprise as he spotted her. "Y/N," he said, clearly taken aback. "I didn't expect to see you here." 
Y/N's gaze was cold, her voice sharp. "Of course, I'm here. How could I not be when you're defending my father? The man who..." Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to continue. "The man who murdered my mother." 
Peter's expression softened, but his voice remained firm. "Y/N, you need to understand. Your father is a veteran. He served this country and he came back broken. He needed help, guidance. You of all people should know how much he struggled." 
"That doesn't excuse what he did," Y/N shot back, her voice rising. "He killed my mother, Peter. He tore our family apart. How can you stand there and defend him? You know how much this would hurt me." 
Peter took a step closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made Y/N's skin crawl. "You know, Y/N, you hurt me too," he said, his voice low and sharp. "You left me, made look like a fool at our company. Maybe you don’t remember how humiliating that was for me, how everyone saw me as the guy you left behind." 
Y/N's eyes widened, a cold shock running through her. The conversation had taken an unexpected and personal turn, and she could feel the bitterness and resentment in Peter's words. "Peter, this isn't about us," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "This is about my father and what he did." 
"Oh, it’s very much about us," Peter shot back, his eyes narrowing. "You walked out on me, left me to deal with the fallout. And now here you are, trying to make me out as the bad guy because I’m defending your father? Maybe I just want to see you squirm, see you face the reality of what your life choices have brought you." 
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, anger and hurt swirling within her. "You think this is some kind of revenge?" she asked, her voice rising with emotion. "You think defending my father will somehow make me change my mind on what happened between us? That’s twisted, Peter." 
Peter's expression hardened. "Twisted or not, it’s the truth. I’m tired of being the one who gets hurt while you get to play the victim. Your father deserves a second chance, and maybe, just maybe, you need to see that you’re not always right." 
Before she could respond, the courtroom doors opened, signaling the start of the proceedings. Y/N took a deep breath, turning away from Peter. She walked into the courtroom, her mind a tumultuous storm of conflicting emotions. She felt the eyes of the room on her, but she squared her shoulders, determined to face what lay ahead. 
As Y/N walked into the courtroom, she felt her heart pound in her chest. She took a deep breath and scanned the room, her eyes finally landing on her father. It was the first time she'd seen him in years.  
He looked older, much older than she remembered. His hair was grayer, his face lined with the passage of time and the weight of his experiences. He appeared scrawny, his frame almost frail, a stark contrast to the strong man who had once been.  
But what struck her most were his eyes. They were clear, free of the fog of alcohol or anger she had come to associate with him in her memories. Her father's eyes met hers, and she saw a complex mixture of emotions in them.  
There was a glimmer of happiness, a fleeting joy at seeing his daughter again after so long. But there was also disappointment, a deep sadness that seemed to echo the pain and regret of the years they had lost. His gaze flickered to Peter and then back to Y/N, realization dawning on him as he understood she was there to oppose his release. 
The judge called the court to order, and the proceedings began. Y/N took her place, her heart heavy but her resolve firm. She listened as the charges were read, the gravity of the situation settling over the room like a shroud. 
When it was her turn to speak, Y/N stood, her voice steady but filled with emotion. She outlined her reasons for opposing her father's release, her words a testament to the pain and suffering her family had endured. She spoke of her mother, of the life that had been taken too soon, and of the scars that would never fully heal. 
Throughout her testimony, her father's gaze never left her. She could see the sorrow in his eyes, the regret that seemed to weigh him down. But she also saw a flicker of understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the pain he had caused. 
As she finished speaking, Y/N took her seat, her hands trembling slightly. She had done what she came to do, but the outcome was now out of her hands. The judge called a recess, and Y/N stepped outside to catch her breath. The weight of the moment was almost overwhelming, but she knew she had to stay strong. 
Outside the courtroom, Peter approached her again. "You did well," he said “You should have stayed at the firm, could have a bright future.” Her eyes still filled with the storm of emotions that raged within her. 
Peter lingered for a moment, then turned to re-enter the courtroom. Y/N stood there, taking a deep breath and steeling herself for what was to come. 
Y/N sat in the courtroom, heart pounding as the judge announced the decision. Her father would be released next week. The words echoed in her mind, drowning out everything else.  
The weight of the decision settled over her like a heavy blanket, suffocating and inescapable. She couldn't process anything beyond that single, devastating fact.  
Somehow, she found herself outside the courthouse, the world around her a blur of noise and colour. She didn’t remember driving home or the journey through the familiar streets. All she knew was the numbness that had taken hold, the disbelief and fear that clouded her thoughts. 
When she finally reached the cabin, she walked mechanically toward the bedroom, her mind still reeling. Ben, who had been getting ready to face the TNT twins, saw her enter. But seeing the vacant, shell-shocked look in her eyes, he realized this was more important.  
"Y/N?" he called softly, watching her as she moved like a ghost through the room. 
She didn’t respond, didn’t even seem to hear him. Concern etched deeply on his face, Ben quickly crossed the room to her. He gently took her by the shoulders, searching her eyes for any sign of recognition. 
"Y/N, what happened?" he asked, his voice a low. Her eyes slowly focused on him, the reality of his presence breaking through her fog. "He's getting out," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Y/N clung to him, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling over. He held her as she cried, his hands gently stroking her back, his murmured words of comfort a steady presence in her storm of emotions. 
They stood like that for what felt like hours, until her sobs subsided and she was left with the dull ache of exhaustion. Ben guided her to the bed, helping her lie down and covering her with the blankets. He sat beside her, his hand never leaving hers, offering silent support. 
As her senses slowly started to return to her, she noticed that he was dressed differently, all geared up as if ready to go to battle. “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice shaky and filled with concern. She didn’t want to be alone, not now. 
Ben knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. He looked into her eyes, his gaze steady and reassuring. "I'm here," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere." She searched his face, looking for any sign of deceit, but all she found was genuine care and determination.  
"Then why are you dressed like this?" she asked, her voice softening but still tinged with worry. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was ready to deal with some stuff, but that can wait." 
Sitting beside her, he held her hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her skin. The warmth of his touch and the steadiness of his presence began to ease the tension that had been gripping her chest. "Try to get some rest," Ben said softly. "I'll be right here."  
Y/N nodded, her eyes feeling heavy. She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes, the events of the day finally catching up with her. Despite the turmoil in her heart, she felt a sense of peace knowing Ben was by her side. 
-- --
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23 notes · View notes
vent-stink · 7 hours
Text
Everything (1)
Summary: Jongho wrote his song, Everything, to move on from his ex-girlfriend so he could finally pursue you.
c/w: slight angst pairings: idol!Jongho x idol!reader a/n: this was sitting in my drafts since I wrote that one drabble ages ago!
Jongho pretended not to care too much about your presence. You weren't there for him, you were just seated with your group, not too far from his. He'd spoken to you a few times that left his heart pounding but left you wondering if he even liked you. When you caught his eye, he flushed, embarassed, but you didn't seem to notice as you waved at him with a kind smile that he returned. Okay, at least he does like you.
Jongho wanted to talk to you more, but he found himself reading through his old conversations with someone he shouldn't be thinking about anymore. It stopped him from seeking you out further, though he couldn't deny that he wished he was the guy you'd sing your groups' love songs for. He felt guilt eating away at him for these feelings, knowing he had yet to move someone else, so he didn't pursue you further.
When he was approached by Hongjoong to make a song for their next full length album "The World Ep. Fin : Will" He took a week baring his soul on papers that ended up cluttering his room more than he ever had before. Sleepless nights were spent trying to write the right thing. He wanted to do his feelings justice. He wanted to sing them out of his system and then, after the promotions and tour for this album were over, never think about them again.
Hongjoong and Wooyoung worried for him as he heard the youngest practice the heartbreaking lyrics to his song through the walls of their flat, but the result was beautiful, and though they never talked about it, they could see that writing it had been cathartic for Jongho and they didn't need to force him to talk to them about what he was going through.
When the song was released, his ex-girlfriend knew it was about her, but it didn't have the affect he was hoping for. Instead of letting her go, it made her come back. She used fansites to find him, and he locked eyes with her as he passed by, waving to Atinys. Seeing her again shook him, and she ended up unblocking his number to ask him to meet that very same day. He wondered if he even should, if he would undo all the progress he gained when writing the song.
In the time he was contemplating whether he should meet her, he ended up seeing you in a reality show. He was surprised to see that you were excited to see him. "Your song on your new album was beautiful, Jongho-ssi," you said, "Everything you sing is full of emotion, but… this one felt especially powerful. It was very moving."
Jongho was stunned. He didn't even know you liked his work, but to know that you made time to listen to his b-side of all things made him particularly feel some type of way. He thanked you kindly, and by the end of the reality show the two of you became quite close, but there was a line that yet to be crossed.
This urged him to see his ex-girlfriend and cut all of his loose ends. He didn't want to pull on one accidentally one day and unravel his whole sweater later, so he had to cut them off now.
At a basically unknown coffee shop with a mask and oversized hoodie, he met her and she frowned at him. "What's with all that getup. You didn't do this before." "I'm a real idol. I can't be caught in any scandals. Nobody knew me before," He said to her quietly, "Why did you want to meet?" "I heard your song." Jongho didn't say anything to that. Obviously she had. To anyone who'd known his relationship with her, it was obvious that she was the song's subject. "Okay…?" Jongho honestly thought his heart would be a lot more bothered by her presence, of course the nostalgia was prominent, but the love he had dwindled significantly. His heart twisted, but didn't beat as hard as it used to.
"I miss you, too." She replied. He paused, buffering for a moment before he asked, confused, "What?" "It was about me, right? My Everything? You still think about me?"
Jongho looked at the table thoughtfully, brows furrowed before he looked back up at her, "I- yes, I guess. It was about you but that- I just felt sorry for what happened-" She cut him off with a smile, touching his hand across the table, and he stared at it, feeling the unfamiliar desire to snatch his hand away. Her touch felt wrong. "I was wrong before. I love you. I want to try again."
This was not what he wanted. Now he was worried for an entirely different reason. He pulled his hand away, putting both hands in his lap and leaning forward slightly, "I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention when I wrote the song." Her face dropped in disappointment and then accusation, "Then why would you write me a song-?" "It wasn't for you, it was for me. It was just about you," Jongho said, "I wasn't trying to hide that, but even though you heard the song… I don't think you really listened to it."
"…You said I'm your everything. What else am I supposed to think?" "I wish I could go back and say all of that to you, but I can't. It ended with 'you were my everything.' Things have changed. This- this was my apology to you, but the concerns you had then are even more prominent, now. I would never have fathomed you coming to this conclusion…"
"Jongho-ya… I said I was wrong. I want to be with you…" "I can't give you a normal life, though," he said firmly, "What changed?"
"Everything changed, Jongho-ya. I missed you, and I didn't realize how you felt about me back then…" "…It's in the past now. I don't feel that way anymore. Did you even watch the MV? That house burned down."
"What?!" She exclaimed. She hadn't even watched the music video. Now looking at her, he wasn't even confident that she'd listened to the whole song.
Though painful, this conversation brought clarity to his mind. He wronged her, he apologized, but things would have ended someday anyway. She wasn't right for him, and there was no way he was right for her either. He didn't regret being with her all that time ago, but she wasn't in his future. He realized that he hadn't imagined a future with her in a long time. He couldn't even remember what he thought it would look like.
"You were my everything. I was finally able to meet you again and convey my feelings from before. I wish I could have told you that you were my reason for living and that I struggled so hard to run to you after falling down a hill of idol responsibilities… but I can't tell you that back then. I can only tell you now. I can't change the past because it's different now. My feelings aren't the same. You were my everything, but you're not anymore. I'm sorry if the song made you misunderstand."
She gripped the coffee in her hand so tightly as she listened to Jongho prattle on in the same indifferent tone she remembered from the day he had finally let her go. She stood, throwing her half-full cup at him, but he was too quick, blocking her hand and spilling the drink everywhere else more than him, even on her.
They stared each other down and she spoke bitterly, "I don't think you ever loved me."
Jongho replied confidently, "I think you're just refusing to see it because I didn't say what you wanted me to say."
The stare-down continued until he gently let go of her hand and left the cafe. Though Jongho was not one for emotion anyway, he was actually surprised that he did not shed a single tear after talking to her. His head was clear and he didn't feel guilty anymore as he drove away, finally leaving her behind.
20 notes · View notes
grapesplease · 3 days
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i love you (i'm sorry)
astarion x half-drow!male!bard! tav
sum. altair has a panic attack in the underdark (being an ex-slave does that to you) and astarion is the one who keeps him together. he also has some conflicting feelings on his relationship with altair.
an. first altair piece i ever wrote, all of it will be posted here but if you want to find the rest of it its posted on ao3 under the user grapesplease. i love writing for my tav and will be writing much more :)
wc. 2.1k
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The silence was deafening.
Astarion knew that something was wrong with Altair, he’d be a horrible partner(?) otherwise. Gods, he’d be an idiot to not notice, whatever was going on with him was obvious to the whole party.
Shadowheart sends him a glare, “Say something to him!” She mouths.
He glares back, mouthing, “What?”
She groans, and Astarion huffs out an exasperated sigh. What would he even say to him? There wasn’t any doubt that he was close to Altair, that was made clear after their first rendezvous at the tiefling’s party, and with how the party expressed their annoyance at them, he knew that they knew too. He still wasn’t even sure that their relationship was anything more than the flirty banter and the occasional late-night tryst.
“I think we should set up camp.” Lae’zel, surprisingly, was the first to speak, breaking what felt like hours-long silence, “I think everyone can agree that a night’s rest is needed.”
Altair’s eyes scanned the area, and he acquiesced, only giving a nod and a quiet, “Alright then..” to the rest of the group.
The elf can’t help but worry, as much as he hates to admit it. Everyone is, as he’d wormed (no pun intended) his way into everyone’s hearts. Astarion doesn’t know if he should go and talk to him, and he doesn’t have the opportunity to. As Lae’zel is, again, the first to speak up.
“Altair.” She stands in front of his tent, Altair flinching as he turns to face her, “What is wrong with you? You’ve been awfully alert, is there something wrong with this place? Or is there something wrong with you?”
Astarion cringes at the face Altair makes when Lae’zel asks if there’s something wrong with him.
“It’s nothing. Lae’zel, I’m just feeling a little off being here."
Astarion scoffs, a little off? As if he wasn’t making the “I’m going to murder someone” face for like three hours straight.
“Underdark doesn’t exactly bring back fond memories, you know, with the whole forced servitude thing..”
She only sighs, grumbling but taking that as a satisfactory answer. “Just don’t let it endanger us, istik.”
Altair lets out a sigh of relief as she walks off, and his gaze flits over to Astarion, realizing he was watching the whole thing. He lets out an exasperated groan, and motions for Astarion to come over. He shuts his book, plastering a flirty smirk on his face and sauntering over.
“So, is there ‘something wrong with you’, dear?” He jokes, mimicking the cadence of Lae’zel’s voice, “You have been awfully on edge, darling.”
“That obvious?”
“Very.”
He groans, sinking down to the ground, his face buried in his hands. “Fuuuck. Gods, I’m stressed.”
“That much is clear.” Astarion retorts, moving to sit down next to him. “Good to know that it’s stress, I couldn't tell if you were wanting to kill me or needed a drink.”
“I go for either right now, to be honest.” He jokes, looking up at Astarion, “I found something here, Astarion.”
He doesn't like the tone that Altair takes, it sends an uncomfortable jolt up his spine. He follows him into his tent, spotting an journal atop Altair’s makeshift desk. The journal's a pretty little thing, its gold embroidery shimmering against the light of Altair's lamp.
“Oh, is it cursed? Is this one for Gale or for me?” He asks, running his fingers over the embroidery. He would've appreciated the work more, if not for how grave Altair sounded.
“It might as well be.” He grabs the journal, flipping through its pages. “I haven't been all too honest with my background, Astarion. I don't think I can hide it anymore, either.”
The vampire raises an eyebrow, “So you're telling me that you aren't just a bard from Baldur’s Gate? What a surprise!”
“I’m being serious, Astarion!” He snaps, flipping to the most recent page of the journal. Astarion tenses up, frowning at him.
“The writer of this journal, she's out to fucking kill me! She found me back then, when I was in Baldur’s Gate, she- she found where I lived, and she's found me here too! Gods-”
His hands grip tightly at the edges of the journal, his breathing getting ragged and uneven. Astarion softly places his hands on his shoulders, trying to ground him.
“Breathe, darling.” He hasn't had much experience calming people, but he hopes that this is working. This is a new side to Altair, one that he’d hid well up until this point. “She's not here, we're safe, and even if she finds us, we can take her, I’m sure of it.”
“No! No, that's how she gets you!” Altair chokes out, looking up at him with fearful eyes. “She pretends, she acts all nice, getting you to trust her- then she tears it all away! Everything! She's already done it once to me, and now she's going to do it again! She’s going to torture you- and everyone here, and she's going to make me watch.”
A sob falls from his throat, his tears leave dark splotches on his pants, “And she's going to do it because she owns me- and- fuck, she’s going to find out I care about you! She’s going to make me fucking miserable, going to make me beg and grovel under the heel of her boot for forgiveness, and then she’s going to kill me.”
What?
..He cares for him?
What a mistake, he thinks, a stupid mistake, putting faith into someone like him.
But this is exactly what he wanted, right? To have Altair, the poor sod, the easiest target, his victim, care for him enough to protect him. To be willing to fight and inevitably die to Cazador or the Absolute for him.
It was the same stupid charade, one he’d done for 200 hundred years.
He forces those thoughts back down, looking Altair in the eye. This- This he could deal with later, his newfound guilt wasn't what was important here. The sobbing mess in front of him was, the sobbing mess that foolishly cares about him was what was important right now.
“Listen, she isn't here. I’m not going to die, I promise. She would've been here ages ago if she wanted to kill me.” He forces back the bile that threatens to rise up his throat as he comforts him, feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the world, “We’re safe, dear.”
Altair only sharply inhales, shaking his head, his long hair falling over his face.
“No- no, she's here, I can feel it, I know. She's fucking hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike!”
“Look at me.” Astarion brushes away the hair from his face, his voice lowering to a whisper. “We're okay, I’m safe, everyone’s safe, I’m not dying today. No one is going to die. I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I- I..” Altair tries to steady his breathing, despite how his heart thumps wildly in his chest. “You promise?”
Astarion tries to hide his guilt.
“Yes love, I’m not going anywhere.”
Altair heaves out a heavy sigh, wiping his tears. Gods above, this was all too much for him, too many of his feelings laid bare for a man who he wasn't even sure really loved him. His true feelings had been unceremoniously spilled, his heart exposed for Astarion to see.
He wasn't a bard who told beautiful tales of romance or adventure, nor a gladiator who fought valiantly for his own freedom. He wasn't any of those fucking things. But gods! He wishes he was! He wishes he had the strength he pretends to have in front of everyone, but now Astarion knows.
He knows that he’s just a scared man, constantly running and hiding from everything that scared him. He knows that he cries like a child, forever terrified of his past.
Altair isn’t someone who confronts his past, he hides like a coward, running away to the far corners of the world thinking that he can hide. He wants to love Astarion, wants to care, he wants to do all of that without the looming fear that it’d be taken from him.
That his past would eventually catch up to him and it’d all disappear.
“Astarion, I..” His face is flush with embarrassment, head hanging in shame, he feels like he could die on the spot, “I’m sorry, for all of this.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He calmly replies, “I think we’ve all been stressed, and it's not like you haven't seen me panic every once and a while.”
Altair snorts, letting out a dry chuckle, “Yeah, last time you did, you ended up killing a man.”
“He deserved it!” Astarion retorts, gasping dramatically.
“Sure, sure..” He wipes at his eyes, but realizes that Astarion is already moving to exit his tent. Was he just going to leave, now that Altair had calmed down? No, he couldn't be alone yet.
He tugs at Astarion’s sleeve, stopping him in his tracks.
The man turns and tilts his head, giving Altair a sultry smirk, “What? You just got your breath back, and now you want me to take it away again? Darling, if you wanted to sleep with me, this is a cute way to ask~”
“No! No, I just want-” He groans, refusing to meet Astarion’s amused gaze, “I wanted you to stay.”
“That’s what I’m offering?”
“Not like that!” His head snaps up to look at him, seeing a brief flash of surprise from the elf, “I don't want to be alone, not yet.”
“Not yet” Astarion feels a pang of familiarity, Altair sounded like he was resigned to being lonely forever, like Astarion himself would be temporary and he’d never talk to him again after this night.
He hates how he can relate so much to that feeling. It only worsens the pit of guilt in his stomach. He wishes he could just leave, but he knows he can’t.
He can scarcely believe that Altair just wanted him to just- be there? To what, cuddle in his bedroll and fall asleep together? He hasn’t done that in centuries, nevertheless with someone else.
“So you just want me to…” he makes a vague hand motion, “to just be here?”
“If you want.” Altair sputters out, a nervous panic seeping into his voice, “I just- I don't want to be alone, I still feel like she's there, and I'm- I’m scared, Astarion.”
It takes a great deal of effort to admit this to him, and Altair feels so vulnerable. Fuck, he's so, so scared, scared of Astarion saying no, scared that the moment he takes his eyes off of him that he's going to disappear, and that the next time he sees him, all that's left is a mangled corpse.
He’s scared that the man he’s starting to love is going to disappear, and leave him all alone with his feelings for him.
“I’ll.. of course I’ll stay, if you're scared. I did promise, after all.”
Altair shakily laughs, glad that Astarion didn't reject him. Moving to his bedroll, he motions for Astarion to join him, and he obliges, laying down beside him.
“Can we cuddle?”
“You don't have to ask, darling.”
“I know.” The drow turns on his side, burying his face in Astarion’s neck.
“Sappy.”
Astarion’s fingers thread through his white locks, messing with the long strands. It really was sweet of him, and he comes to the dreadful realization that Altair is slowly becoming more to him than just protection.
He wants to ask more about Altair’s past, who was this woman he was so afraid of? Was she really so strong that she’d kill the whole party in one fell swoop? Is she someone who’d torture him, for the sole fact that Altair cares about him?
Shit, he’d almost forgotten about that.
He's still a bit in denial about it, the fact that Altair cares for him, and that he might also care for him back. But he knows that he would never do this much for anyone else, gods, cuddling in the night? Sharing gentle touches while patching each other up and longing glances between battles? He knows that Altair is so much more than just protection.
He knows that he has to reveal his true intentions to him, but whatever confession he has dies on his tongue. The half-drow is sound asleep in his arms, softly snoring into his chest. His heartbeat calm as he buries himself further into the fabric of his shirt.
Astarion knows that he has to confess his real intentions to Altair eventually, but it could wait a little longer. He could wait a little longer to reveal how horrible of a person he was, how he was no different from Altair’s tormentor.
“Good night, love.”
It could wait.
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ewwww-what · 3 months
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I like to think that Gorgug hangs out with the seven the way Zelda hangs out with the bad kids. You know that horrible awkward feeling where you only know one person at a party? It’s like that but everyone else at the party is inseparable and they keep teasing you (in a good-natured way) with jokes you don’t understand, and all you can do is smile and nod and try so hard not to embarrass yourself in front of these people you perceive as way too cool for you.
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okkennymay · 3 months
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Hi Kenny, how's 2024 treating you?
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I feel a little bit like i'm running down an incredibly steep hill but I'm managing somehow 💖
I got to briefly join my sisters hens/bucks party weekend getaway for a few hours near the start of the year, it was an amazing experience and to have gotten to join in on the fun with family and friends and celebrate my sister and her fiance's marriage-to-be was an experience I never thought could happen! ♪(^∇^*) I mean sure I spent most of it hidden away, in the lil cabin my parents were renting a bit further away from all the party people, resting between moments of interaction but it was AWESOME!
and then I lost my 'no major episode' streak (almost 5 months!! A frickEN MiRAcle!!) a week later and have spent most of the time recovering 9w9" ahh all that recovery torn away and damage redone ;w; But i have been quietly working on commissions in the shadows with those who have popped up in my Instant messages- yah boi got bills to pay and a DSP don't quite cut it, so I got some nice art to post when i can get out of my own head for a minute to do so wOOOO ╰(*°▽°*)╯ my clients are my hero's honestly, it's one of the reasons why I pour so much love into my work
Sorry if that was a bit more of answer than yah wanted Anon <3 I feel a lil bit like all the people responding to Elmo's "how's everyone doing" but I tried to keep things lighthearted 💖
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