#for something I been wanting for 2 years…..

[rynwrites4fun]

Across The Hall (9) | Michael Robinavitch x Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Michael Robinavitch x F ! Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Summary: You and Michael now live parallel lives—close in distance but distant as strangers. After a school field trip to the zoo, you get injured and are rushed to the Pittsburg Trauma Medical Center, straight to Michaels ER.

Word: 4971

Warnings: Age Gap (Mid 20s/Early 50s), Head Injury (Factured Skull), Bleeding from the ear, and Vomiting

Authors Note: Hello! Thank you for all the love on the last part. Lol I love seeing your guys comments and reactions. They crack me upppp. Couple more parts and this fic with come to a end🥲. Depending on season 2 maybe I'll write a spin off/Continuation of some sort 🤨??? or maybe I'll leave a good thing be. Idk this is all up in the air and just ideas. If I did continue it won't be until next year YIKES. Long way from now. But if you guys want it i'll prob do it lol very much a people pleaser 😭 also determined to finsihed eyes on me lol okay anyway. enjoy!!! - ryn

3 Months Later

Since that day—that morning where it ended—you and Michael had kept your distance. It wasn’t easy. Living across the hall meant you still saw each other constantly. You crossed paths in the elevator, passed in the lobby, caught glimpses through cracked doors. But it was different now. Cautious. Careful. The warmth was gone.

It was like reverting back to how things were in the beginning—only worse. Not acquaintances. Less than that. Strangers.

There were no more lingering glances, no more easy conversations or shared errands. No more moments where he helped you without being asked, like he just knew. Now it was all stiff nods and the occasional muttered “hey” or “hi,” as if everything between never happened or existed.

Your lives—once a single, tangled line—had split. Still running close, still crossing the same thresholds, but no longer connected. Now they moved in parallel. Close enough to feel, never close enough to touch.

You missed him. Not just being around him—but him. The version only you knew. The one who stayed late, who looked out for you, who let his guard down when it was just the two of you.

Now, it was like he barely looked your way. Just quick hellos, if that. And even those felt heavy.

Still, every time you saw him, you wondered if he missed you too.

And maybe—just maybe—you knew he missed you too.

But neither of you said a word.

Michael had been the first person to remind you what it felt like to be truly cared for. Losing that connection hurt deeply. But even without him, you were learning how to stand on your own. You are in a better place

After years stuck in a toxic, neglectful relationship with Aiden, you finally chose yourself. No more waiting to be seen or heard. You were rebuilding, piece by piece—stronger, quieter, more certain.

It was something Michael said the last time you saw him that stayed with you. His voice was calm but firm: “You need to figure yourself out. Really figure it out. What you want, what you feel… why you push people away when they treat you the way you deserve. Because if you don’t, you’re just going to keep hurting the people who care about you.”

Those words gave you the push you needed to walk away.

After breaking up with Aiden, the silence was deafening at first. No shouting, no blame, no empty promises—just quiet. And for once, that quiet felt like space you could breathe in, not suffocate.

You weren’t completely free yet. There were days when memories clawed at you, when loneliness crept in like a shadow. But with each morning you woke up without him, you felt a little stronger. A little more whole.

And Michael? Seeing him after everything—it wasn’t easy. There was a tension, a distance between you that hadn’t been there before. You still felt guilty for how things ended with him. But beneath it all, you knew one thing: his words had helped you find yourself again. Even if your connection had changed, that truth remained.

—

This morning, you had left your apartments at the same time, walking side by side in silence. No words. No eye contact. Just the sound of your footsteps echoing down the hallway—too close, too quiet.

He let you step into the elevator first, then slipped into his usual corner—like always. The space between you felt heavier than it should’ve in such a small box.

And every time you rode the elevator with him now, your mind drifted back to that morning. The one where everything shifted. The one where he had looked at you like he couldn’t wait another second. Where his hands trembled on your skin and nothing else existed. That morning where—for a moment—you both stopped pretending.

Now, you only pretended. Pretended not to miss it. Pretended not to look at him out of the corner of your eye. Pretended he wasn’t right there, close enough to touch, but choosing not to.

Then, suddenly—you don’t know why—you turned your head and glanced at him over your shoulder.

“Good morning,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, a small, uncertain smile on your lips.

Michael stood there, sunglasses on, coffee in hand, AirPods in. He didn’t respond. Didn’t nod. Normally, he’d say hello—or at least acknowledge you—but today wasn’t one of those days.

Maybe he hadn’t heard you.

But he had.

Because the truth was, he missed you. Every time he saw you, felt your presence so close yet unreachable, it tore at something inside him.

But talking—to break the silence—meant opening a door he wasn’t sure he could close. It meant risking everything he’d been trying to hold together.

The silence in that elevator was suffocating.

The doors slid open.

You stepped out first, heart pounding, words caught in your throat. By the time the two of you made it through the lobby and out to the street, you found yourself saying, “Have a good day.”

Still, he ignored you.

Without a word, he turned and walked in the opposite direction.

—--

It had been a good day.

There was a field trip to the Philadelphia Zoo, and the fifth graders had been buzzing with excitement since they got off the bus. They darted from exhibit to exhibit in loose clusters, calling out animal facts they half-remembered from class, pointing at the gorillas, giggling at the flamingos, and dramatically gagging when they passed smelly enclosures. 

You smiled through the chaos, constantly scanning the crowd, reminding them to walk—not run—while answering a steady stream of “Can we go there next?” and “Do we have to stay with our buddy?”

By the time the group began gathering near the exit to prepare for departure, the kids were hot, tired, and still somehow full of energy—trading animal facts, snacks, and complaints about the long walk back to the bus.

You turned to check on one of your students—and your foot caught on a backpack left sprawled across the pavement.

You didn’t even have time to brace yourself.

You went down hard.

Your head hit the ground with a sickening crack.

Everything went black for a moment.

You passed out for a few minutes before slowly waking up. When your eyes opened, your other 5th grade teachers and your students gathered around you, worried. 

A sharp pain pulsed through your head. When you touched the side of your face, your fingers came away wet—your ear was bleeding.

You tried to sit up, but your body felt heavy and unsteady. Panic flickered in your chest.

“Are you okay, Miss?” a student asked, voice trembling.

You forced a small, shaky smile. “I’ll be okay,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure.

One of the teachers noticed the blood coming from your ear when you touched it. They knew something was wrong—you needed to get to the hospital.

You tried to protest, insisting you were fine, but the other teachers wouldn’t hear it. Their concern was firm—they knew you needed medical attention. They called an ambulance, and took care of your kids as you headed to the hospital.

“Okay, we’re headed to PTMC,” the driver said to his partner in the back with you.

Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. No. You didn’t want to go there. Michael worked there.

“What? N-no, can’t you take me to Allegheny?” you asked, your voice shaking as you glanced up at the paramedic trying to stem the bleeding from your ear.

“Miss, PTMC is closer. Allegheny is too far,” the paramedic replied, his tone calm but unyielding.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit you hard. Before you could stop it, you threw up—your body reacting to the pain and shock.

The paramedics quickly handed you a bag, their expressions gentle but focused. Your head throbbed fiercely, and the thought of seeing Michael at PTMC made the room feel even more overwhelming.

You swallowed hard, gripping the stretcher tightly as the ambulance doors shut and the vehicle started moving. Outside, the world blurred past the windows, but inside, your mind spun with pain, fear, and an ache far deeper than the injury itself.

—-

It was busy in the ER today—loud, chaotic, the usual blur of motion and noise. Monitors beeped steadily in the background, gurneys rolled down hallways, voices called out orders and vitals in clipped tones. The scent of antiseptic clung to the air, mixing with the sharper tang of adrenaline and urgency.

Michael worked hard and efficiently, his hands steady and his voice calm as he checked charts, issued instructions, and answered questions. Every task was precise and practiced. But despite his focused exterior, his heart wasn’t fully in it today. Beneath the surface, his mind drifted elsewhere.

For some reason, you were heavy on his mind—ever since he saw you that morning in the elevator. Though he went about his work with his usual efficiency, every time he glanced up or caught a quiet moment, his thoughts slipped back to you. That brief encounter stirred something beneath his calm exterior, making it harder than usual to focus.

Even as he moved through the chaos of the ER, you lingered in the corners of his mind—a quiet weight he couldn’t shake. Each task felt automatic, mechanical, like he was running on autopilot 

At the nurses’ station, Dana glanced toward Michael as he passed by, pausing briefly. His eyes scanned the triage monitor for a moment before he continued on his rounds.

“What’s his vibe today?” Dana asked, peering over the top of her glasses as she flipped through a stack of charts.

Jack didn’t look up from the computer. “Full-on rain cloud.”

Dana let out a quiet laugh. “That bad?”

Jack finally glanced up. “Yeah. Barely talking. Just doing his rounds like a ghost.”

Dana frowned slightly. She hadn’t had a real catch-up with Robby in a while.

“I don’t think I’ve heard him say anything beyond patient loads and charts in weeks,” she murmured.

Jack leaned back in his chair. “Yeah. He’s been keeping things tight. You can tell he’s holding something in… and it’s not just stress.”

Dana sighed, looking up from the computer. “It’s been—what? Three months since they stopped talking?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, watching Michael enter an exam room. “He’s doing okay. Better than a few months ago, for sure. But I think today’s one of those days where he’s really missing her.”

Jack added quietly, “It’s hard to tell with him sometimes. He’s always been good at hiding what’s really going on.”

Dana didn’t respond right away, distracted by the faint sound of sirens growing louder in the distance.

“Looks like a bus just pulled up,” she said, glancing toward the ambulance bay.

Jack turned, following her line of sight. Through the glass doors, he spotted the rig backing in, its lights still flashing. The paramedics moved quickly, unloading a gurney from the back, getting ready to wheel someone inside.

“I got it,” he said, already moving toward the doors.

“Alright, what do we got?” 

Jack reached the stretcher as the paramedic began briefing him. 

“Mid-20s female, teacher on a zoo field trip. She tripped over a backpack and hit her head on the pavement. She lost consciousness briefly after the fall. There’s blood coming from her ear. She vomited on the way here and reported dizziness and nausea and is currently somewhat disoriented.”

“Exam Room 13’s open!” Dana called out as she overheard part of the paramedics’ briefing.

The gurney rolled past the nurses’ station in a blur of motion—wheels rattling, footsteps fast. Dana glanced up from her charts and files to get a quick look at the incoming patient… and froze.

Her eyes widened, recognition flickering across her face as she stood up straighter, instinctively stepping out onto the floor. Her heart skipped. Her eyes narrowed, trying to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

It was you.

You looked pale, out of it—a plastic bag clutched in your hand, vomit on your shirt, and a smear of dried blood trailing from your ear. But it was unmistakably you.

The same woman she’d seen, playing around with Michael in aisle 9 of the grocery store fighting over cookies. 

Jack was already directing the paramedics to Exam Room 13, calling for trauma supplies as he moved alongside the gurney.

Dana stood abruptly, eyes darting around the ER. Looking for Michael.

Shit. Where’s Robby? Which wing did he go? She thought.

“Jack!” she called, rushing after him. She fell into step beside him as they wheeled you. 

“What?” he asked, not slowing.

“It’s her!” she hissed, voice low but urgent.

“Who?”

“The friend-neighbor-almost-something-—her,” Dana said, eyes wide. “Robby’s girl.”

Dana watched as Jack’s head whipped to face her. His expression shifts—from confusion to clarity, then to something dangerously close to dread.

Jack stopped short, turning just in time to see the gurney disappear into Exam Room 13. His expression changed instantly.

He looks at Dana again “That was her? Are you sure?” 

“Yes!”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

“What do we do?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jack didn’t hesitate. “We need to tell him.”

Dana’s brows knit. “Are you sure? After everything… you know how torn up he was…well still is” she trailed off, uncertain. “I mean, do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Yes,” Jack said firmly. “He still cares about her, still feels things for her. You know he does.”

Dana hesitated, lips pressed into a line.

“He’s not over her, Dana. Not even close. No matter how messy the fallout was, he’d want to know. And if he finds out she was here and we kept it from him…”

“He’d never forgive us,” Dana finished, already nodding.

Jack’s jaw was tight. “Exactly.”

“Look I’ll take care of her, find him as soon as you can and tell him. Okay?” 

“Alright” they quickly went off in different directions. 

—

The harsh fluorescent lights overhead felt like too much—too bright, too sharp—cutting through the fog in your skull. Your stomach churned again, sour and unsettled. You’d already thrown up in the ambulance, the evidence smeared across your shirt, and the nausea still clung to you, heavy and unrelenting. It was like your body couldn’t decide if it was in pain or panic.

The nurse—Princess, according to her badge—helped you onto the exam table from the gurney, guiding you gently as you sat down.

“Let’s get you settled,” she said calmly.

You nodded, though the movement made your head throb and your stomach turn.

Princess moved with calm precision, wrapping a cuff around your arm to check your blood pressure and attaching monitors to track your vitals. She was already prepping the IV, her hands steady, practiced.

“Pressure’s a little low,” she murmured, mostly to herself, then offered you a small, reassuring smile.

You closed your eyes as the needle slid into your arm, trying to focus on her calm voice instead of the pounding in your head.

She grabbed a damp cloth and gently began wiping the vomit from your shirt, doing the best she could to clean you up while keeping you comfortable.

“You’re doing okay,” she said softly. “Just stay with me.”

Princess noticed the shift in your expression—the way your face paled. Without a word, she grabbed a plastic basin and placed it gently in your lap.

“Just in case,” she said softly.

A moment later, the door opened and a man stepped in, wearing navy scrubs and a calm, focused expression.

“I’m Dr. Jack Abbot,” he said as he approached. “I’ll be taking care of you today.”

Jack

The name stood out. Michael’s friend—he’d mentioned him a couple of times. Quick stories, casual references. You never met him, but the name stuck.

Now here he was, standing in front of you. And suddenly, it all felt just a little more real.

To Jack, you were more than just another patient. You were her—the neighbor, the teacher, the one Michael couldn’t stop thinking about. The one who shattered him.

He was torn. Part of him wanted to resent you. Another part couldn’t help but feel sorry—for both you and Michael. It hurt watching Michael suffer in silence, burying his feelings under layers of composure. But there was sadness for you too—because Jack knew you were still clinging to something broken. A relationship that should’ve ended long ago.

But none of that mattered now. He needed to take care of you—not only because it was his job, but for Michael. 

You and Jack locked eyes. Neither of you spoke, but something passed between you—an unspoken recognition. You both knew each other through Michael, even if you’d never met before. And in that silence, there was a quiet acknowledgment of everything that wasn’t being said.

“Let’s get you checked out,” he said gently.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He pulled on a pair of gloves and waited patiently as you gathered your thoughts.

“I tripped over a student’s backpack. I fell… hit my head on the side,” you said, your voice a little shaky.

Princess, at the computer nearby, typed quickly, capturing every detail.

“You passed out? For how long?”

“I don’t know. No more than 5 minutes?”

“And you feel nauseous?” Jack takes notice of the dried blood from your ear. 

“Yes” He brought his hands up, feeling your head, and then he felt it. A squishy part on the side of your head. 

Shit. 

Jack’s eyes narrowed as he gently pressed around the swollen area, careful not to cause more pain. His mind raced—without a CT scan, he knew the injury was serious. How severe, though, remained uncertain.

“Okay, stay still for me,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We need to get a CT scan to find out exactly what we’re dealing with.” He says to the Princess, but also to you.

You nodded, swallowing hard, the dizziness and nausea pressing harder with every breath.

Princess looked up from her computer. “I’m alerting neurology and radiology now.”

Jack forced a steady breath, trying to stay composed though inside, worry tightened its grip.

Your stomach lurched, and you vomited into the plastic basin Princess had handed you earlier. Jack stepped back slightly, giving you room but keeping his eyes locked on you, watching for any sign of worsening condition.

Princess moved quickly to help, she handed you a clean towel and quietly assured you as you wiped your face.

Princess stepped over, grabbing a pair of gloves and a warm saline wipe.

You flinched as she dabbed gently at the dried blood near your ear, trying not to let it sting. 

“Sorry,” Princess murmured, careful and quiet.

Jack watched closely but because the signs were impossible to ignore. The dried blood near your ear, the squishy spot on the scalp, the nausea and dizziness—they all pointed to something serious. Possibly a skull fracture.

Until the scan came back, there wasn’t much he could confirm. But in his gut, he already knew this wasn’t minor.

He reached for a chart from the counter, flipping it open and beginning to write. His pen scratched quickly across the paper, but he kept looking up every few seconds—checking your breathing, your pallor, the way you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Princess adjusted the bed slightly, propping it up so you could sit comfortably. She hands you a new plastic basin. She takes the used wipes and throws it in the trash along with her gloves and goes to wash her hands. 

You glanced at him, searching. “Did… did Michael send you?”

Princess moved to gather the extra materials they hadn’t used, placing them neatly on the supply rack. Her movements were quiet, efficient, but her attention never strayed far. She listens closely. 

Jack shook his head. “No. Robby doesn’t know you’re here… at least not yet.”

At that, Princess froze for just a moment. She didn’t know the full story, but it was clear you and Michael were connected. Her eyes flicked to Jack, widening slightly. A silent exchange passed between them—brief, but unmistakable.

Jack sighed inwardly. He knew exactly what she was thinking—the bet she and several other staff had made a few weeks ago at the bar about Michael having a girlfriend. Now was not the time.

His eyes locked onto hers, sharp, silently warning: Don’t even think about it. He shook his head slightly.

You hadn’t noticed the exchange. Your eyes closed, feeling dizzy, your head throbbing. The words slipped out before you could stop them. “That’s the last thing I want.”

Princess gave an innocent, almost playful raise of her eyebrows, but beneath it was something calculating. She grabbed a chart out of Jack's hands and scurried out of the room, leaving a faint echo of footsteps behind her.

Jack remained still, watching her retreat. His jaw tightened, mouth pressed into a hard line. In the ER, whispers traveled faster than code blue alarms—money and rumors would be swirling in less than a few minutes. 

Jack exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a brief second. He’ll deal with it later he tells himslef.

Jack leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just studied you—pale, clearly worn down.

You swallowed hard, the dizziness still buzzing faintly at the edges of your mind.

“I don’t want to make things harder for him.”

“He’ll know,” Jack said quietly, his voice flat with certainty. “He’ll come rushing in here once he finds out—I guarantee it.”

“He likes you—a lot, cares for you deeply” he said, matter-of-fact, like it was the plainest truth in the world. “I’ve seen him talk about people before—patients, colleagues, even exes. But never like this.”

Your eyes flicked open. Jack wasn’t looking at you anymore.

You didn’t interrupt. His words caught you off guard—soft but heavy.

“With you… it’s different,” Jack said. “He’s not the guy who makes big declarations. But his actions? Loud as hell.”

He stepped closer, eyes searching yours—not confrontational, just honest.

“That day—after everything fell apart—he barely said a word.”

Jack’s voice dropped. “He didn’t say much. But I’ve known him long enough to read between the lines. Michael’s the silent type. Shove it down, suffer alone. That’s always been his way. He doesn’t fall easily. And he sure as hell doesn’t bounce back quickly.”

And didn’t you know it—you ruined what you two had. You looked down at your hands.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” you said.

Jack finally met your eyes. There wasn’t anger—just a tired kind of clarity. “Maybe not. But it still happened.”

There was no heat in his voice. No judgment. Just the truth.

“He’ll handle it. He always does.”

He backed toward the door.

“My instinct is to tell you to continue stay away from him... keep the distance. To protect him.”

A beat.

“But even with all that… there’s a part of me that still hopes it works out between you two.”

He held your gaze.

“If there’s even a small chance you feel the same—don’t waste it.”

Then, firm again, “But don’t show up in his orbit unless you’re sure.”

“I’ll be back to get you for the CT scan. If you need anything, press the call button.”

And with that, he was gone.

—

Dana had spent the last several minutes searching—looking for Michael. The constant rush of the ER had kept her moving nonstop, priorities shifting by the second as new cases rolled in. Between the noise, the pages, and the demands of back-to-back emergencies, she hadn’t had a spare moment—until now. Finally able to look, she peeked into each exam room as she passed, also scanning for Michael.

Finally, she spotted him. 

Standing in the doorway, she called out, “Dr. Robby?”

Michael was looking up from the chart he was filling out while Victoria Javadi, the med student currently shadowing him, checked the patient under his supervision.

“Can… I talk to you outside?”

Michael glanced at her, then back at Javadi.

“Hold it down here. I’ll be right back,” he said, giving her a nod before stepping out into the ER floor with Dana.

“What’s up?” he asked, arms crossing over his chest.

Dana swallowed. “Robby, she’s here. Exam Room 13.”

“Who’s here?” His brow furrowed, clearly not understanding.

“She’s here,” Dana said again, slower this time, her eyes locking onto him.

Then it hit him.

His stomach dropped.

You’re here.

“W–what?” he said, hard and sharp, disbelief cutting through his voice.

“The bus pulled in a while ago-"

“How long ago?!” His voice rose, sharp.

“Half an hour—she hit her head. Took a fall during the field trip—”

Michael’s heart skipped, then kicked into overdrive. He didn’t wait for the rest.

He turned on his heel and bolted, weaving through the ER, past gurneys, staff, and startled patients.

He barely registered people calling his name.

Didn’t care about the chart he’d left behind, the patient waiting for him at 7 with Victoria, or the conversation he’d been having seconds ago.

All he could hear was Dana’s voice echoing in his head.

She hit her head.

His hands were already trembling. Thoughts circled like vultures—loud, fast, frantic. He didn’t know how bad it was. Was it minor? Maybe. But probably not—Not if the ambulance brought her in.

And then another thought struck—hard and bitter.

He’d ignored you this morning.

You’d smiled at him. Said, “Good morning.” Told him to have a good day.

And he hadn’t said anything back.

He’d brushed past you like you didn’t matter. And now—now this.

His chest felt tight. His feet moved faster.

Room 13. Room 13. Room 13.

Nothing else mattered. Not now.

Because you were here.

And you were hurt.

 He rounded the corner too fast, nearly slipped—caught himself—nearly crashing into Jack as he stepped out of Exam Room 13.

“WOAH!” Jack exclaimed, throwing an arm out to steady them both.

“Robby—”

“I gotta get to her—I” Michael said breathlessly, trying to push past him.

Jack grabbed his shoulders, holding him in place. “Stop, she’s gone.”

Robby froze. His heart plummeted, eyes going wide as the blood drained from his face. He couldn’t breathe—he just stood there, stunned, like the ground had been ripped out from under him.

Jack’s eyes widened as he realized. “Oh—shit—no! Gone as in, not in the room! I took her to her CT scan!”

Michael’s breath shuddered out of him. He stumbled back a step, dragging a hand down his face.

“FUCK, Abbot!” he snapped, voice hoarse. “Next time, maybe lead with that!!!”

Jack winced, “Yeah. Okay. Fair. Sorry!” He says quickly.

Michael looked like he was about to break. Without hesitation, Jack grabbed his elbow and pulled him inside your exam room, closing the door behind them.

Jack softened. “You want to sit for a second?”

Michael shook his head, jaw tight. “No. Just… give me a minute.”

His chest rising and falling like he’d just run a mile. He turned away from Jack and leaned heavily against the wall, one hand braced flat against it while the other gripped his thigh. For a long moment, he stayed like that—bent slightly at the waist, eyes squeezed shut—trying to catch his breath and slow his racing heart.

Then, with a trembling hand, he reached under his scrub top and T-shirt and pulled out the gold Star of David necklace he always wore—small, worn, and mostly hidden. He rubbed it between his fingers, clutching it tight in his calloused palm like a lifeline.

With his eyes still closed, he drew in a shaky breath, as if trying to summon strength from somewhere deep inside—something steady, unyielding.

Jack said nothing. He didn’t need to. He just watched, quiet and still, letting Michael have the space to come back to himself.

Michael straightened slowly, collecting himself.

“She’s okay?” Michael finally forced out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jack exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s conscious. Talking. But I’m pretty sure she has a skull fracture—I just don’t know how severe yet. We’re gonna have ro wait on the CT to tell us more.”

Michael’s face went pale. His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

Jack softened his tone. “Listen, Robby… I know this sucks. It’s scary, but you’re not alone here. We’re doing everything we can, as fast as we can. She’s tough, and she’s got the best care possible.”

He paused, then added, “It’s us. This team, this hospital—we make it work. You know that. You’ve been part of holding it together more times than I can count.”

Michael’s jaw twitched, but his eyes flicked up—just for a second—as Jack continued.

“She’s in good hands. Our hands.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay.” But there was no real conviction in his voice. 

Jack glanced at Michael, his expression firm but not unkind.

“There’s nothing you can do right now, Robby,” he said quietly. “I know that’s the last thing you want to hear, but it’s the truth.”

Michael’s eyes stayed fixed on the floor, jaw still tight, hands flexing at his sides.

Jack’s voice softened. “And as much as I hate to say it… you’ve got to pull it together and do your job. For now. Until she comes back from CT. We’ll know more soon.”

Michael closed his eyes for a beat, breathing through the heaviness in his chest. Then he nodded—barely.

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

Jack glanced around. “It’s busy today. You know how it is—we’ve got to stay on top of everything, keep things moving.”

Michael knew Jack was right. As much as it tore at him, there was nothing more he could do right now.

So he did the only thing he could—he took a deep breath, straightened his spine, and began to shift the panic into focus. Into control.

He would see you when you came back from CT. Until then, he’d do his job. Just like he always had.

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[makingshortstorieslong]

A little zine about how I (still) have trouble saying the word aromantic.

I've never made a zine before! I was inspired to try it because @queerliblib mentioned a zine making night in an email. That hasn't happened yet - its on June 26th - but once I had the idea, I couldn't wait, lol. It was nice to put something down on paper and have the finished product to hold onto.

Image descriptions under the cut:

Page 1: Three tiny speech bubbles say: "Do you have a bf? Do you like anyone? What's your type?" A big speech bubble says, "Oh, I don't date." The big speech bubble comes from a heart colored like the aromantic flag. 

Page 2 says: I could say: "Actually, I'm... ...aromantic." ...aro." ...aromantic asexual." ...aroace."

Page 3 says: But there are a few problems:

aromantic: Has been misheard as "A Romantic".

aro: Opaque if you don't already know the term.

aromantic asexual: A mouthful! And sounds...scientific?

aroace: shares The Big Problem: it may require a vocabulary lesson!

Page 4 says: It doesn't actually come up too often! Which is fine. My coworkers, my neighbors, and strangers don't need to know I'm aroace. I just wish I could say it sincerely when I do want someone to know. 

Page 5 says: I always have to smile - laugh - hedge. "Oh, well, actually, I'm kind of like, aromantic? Basically just not interested."

It's been more than 8 years since the first time I said it out loud!  I'm certain of it, but I still can't say it like I mean it!

Page 6 says: The most memorable time I said "I don't date" the guy I was talking to asked "Oh are you asexual?" and I said "Yeah, actually. And aromantic." And we moved on.

That was nice. 

Page 7 says:

The times I've lead with "I'm aromantic" -- well, there's only one I really remember:

"I didn't use to think that was a real thing." 

Other than that time -- even if I use the word, I always explain what it means first! 

Page 8 says: I just hope that one day I'll feel like I can say, simply, confidently: "I'm aromantic" and "I'm aroace."

The words "I'm aromantic" are big and dark green, the color of the top stripe of the aromantic flag. The words "I'm aroace" are big and bright orange, the color of the top stripe of the aroace flag. Three hearts below the words are colored to look like the aromantic, aroace, and asexual flags. 

[cybersheepzombie]

I 100% agree. Hell, you desperately want something creepy in there with you? Why not the others who’ve been trapped? Endlessly starved, dehydrated, aging endlessly, unable to sleep, unable to die?

You turn the corner in the empty corridors, and you find a mummified corpse wearing a torn 3 piece suit, hunched up by the wall. You’ve only been here a couple days, but you’re already out of water. You try to raid the body’s pockets, only for it to grab you, and in a barely there raspy voice with the hint of a Boston accent it asks “what the hell do you think you’re doing pal?” You run, not wanting to see anyone like that again.

You’re slowly wondering a concrete garden, it’s been weeks since you’ve eaten anything real. You find one plant slightly pulsing, so you kneel down to pull at it, hoping for some weird fruit. Instead, you find a heavily torn hazmat suit, filled with rotting flesh home to the roots of the ivy you’re tearing. You look upwards, and see 2 sunken eyes, looking at you in fear. “Well, one of us should make it out” you softly say, disgust at yourself for the choice you’re making, a tear dripping from the stranger’s sunken eyes knowing they have no strength to fight you off. You once again survive off the forbidden fruit.

You’ve been here for months now, surviving off what, and who you find. You’re now in an old office building, full of old crumbling plastic furniture, cracked air vents blowing cold air at full blast, hints of asbestos drifting from broken ceiling panels. You know how badly this’ll hurt you in the long run, but you didn’t think to grab anyone’s masks or helmets when you saw them earlier. At least you have your blanket. Still warm. Still breathing. Bones long since turned to dust, organs and muscle removed in a way you just don’t want to remember. And yet it keeps breathing. Deep, rasping breaths, almost like sobs. Which you know they are, from the stream of tears still flowing from the emptied out sockets you leave hanging at the bottom, lest you risk freezing from the endless AC. “My blanket will keep me warm. And he can be glad someone is willing to take him to the exit. After all, why would I help for free?”

It’s been years. You lie on the ground, your makeshift tent blocking the searing sun that never sets from your eyes. Bellow you is a blanket of rubbers and plastics, stolen from the clothing of others. This way, you won’t become one with the grass. Above you, as mentioned, is the tent. Held up with stolen bones, multiple fools stitched together to prevent you from burning. In your hand, a locket you found long ago. You don’t know who it is within, but the bloated child you took it tried to hide it so well as they floated down an endless canal. Maybe, if you stare into this stranger’s eyes, maybe you’ll find piece. You can’t move anymore. You can barely think through the constant pain. But in the eyes of this unknown woman you can remain, as you succumb to eternity, becoming one with this endless hell.

i dont know anything sbout the backrooms as an idea but it annoys me when people put things in there. like the idea of the backrooms is creepy enough you dont need to put a fucking evil being in it. jesus christ. what ever happened to like understated horror. nowadays if it doesnt hve a big scary being in there with claws then it doesnt count as horror

[all4yoi]

𝓣he 𝓓addy 𝓓iaries

!? . . ★ 𝓦here 𝓛ove 𝓖rows — the moment your bump finally shows and how each of them reacts to seeing the first physical proof of the little life growing inside you.

➹ enhypen hyungline x fem!reader ✦ cw: fluff !! mentions of kissing, reader is in her undies for hee's, mentions of feeling fat, jake makes a joke ab enjoying dinner too much, lmk if i missed anything else! not proofread

➹ taglist 2: open! SEND AN ASK — SERIES MASTERLIST

LEE HEESEUNG

Ever since you moved in with Heeseung back when you were still just boyfriend and girlfriend, you'd both grown completely used to changing in front of each other.

Heeseung would always watch with a teasing smirk, sometimes whistling or tossing out a cheeky comment. Other times, he'd come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and press warm kisses to your bare shoulders. It was a routine you'd grown used to, his affection, his presence, his love.

So you were surprised now, standing in your bra and underwear in front of the mirror, brushing your hair only to find your husband unusually quiet from his spot on the bed.

You glanced at him through the mirror, and Heeseung looked like he'd been hit with something heavy.

Then, wordlessly, he stood and walked toward you. He stopped just behind you, his hands hovering over your stomach like he was almost afraid to touch you.

"Baby," he whispered, finally resting his palms gently against your skin, "you're showing."

You froze, eyes widening as you looked down, then at the mirror then back down again. Your hands lifted to cover his, resting over your small but clearly visible baby bump.

"I didn't even notice..." you breathed.

Heeseung smiled, shaky and soft, lowering his chin to your shoulder as he looked at your reflection beside his.

His eyes were glassy, and his smile trembled.

You let out a quiet chuckle, rubbing your thumb along his forearm. "You big baby... are you crying?"

"I just love you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "And this little nugget.. so much."

He pressed a gentle kiss to your jaw, then hugged you tighter, like he never wanted to let either of you go. — more under the cut!

PARK JONGSEONG

Even though you were now pregnant, Sunday night dates were never skipped. Jay had religiously taken you out every Sunday ever since you'd said yes to being his girlfriend years ago, and now that you were his wife and carrying his child, nothing had changed.

Well... almost nothing.

Standing in front of the mirror, you adjusted your maroon, form-fitting dress that stopped just below your calves, frowning. It just didn't feel right. You tried earrings, lipstick, even a cardigan.. but no matter what you did, you didn't like what you saw. You felt off. Heavy. Not you.

Sighing, you stepped out of your shared bedroom, heels clicking softly on the stairs until you stopped at the bottom looking at where Jay sat on the couch, waiting patiently.

He was dressed in a black button-up shirt, the top few buttons left undone and sleeves rolled up to his forearms, like always. Effortlessly handsome.

You looked at him, then down at yourself. "Let's cancel tonight," you mumbled.

Jay's brows lifted in confusion as he stood up, walking toward you. "Why?"

"I feel... fat in this dress," you said quietly, tugging at the fabric near your waist.

He didn't say anything at first, just stood there, eyes scanning you from head to toe. Then a breathy chuckle left his lips as his hands landed gently on your hips, pulling you closer.

"Baby," he whispered, pressing a warm kiss to your cheek, "you're not fat." his hand slid to your stomach. "That's our baby. You're showing."

You blinked, looking down, you finally saw it. The curve you'd been trying to hide in cardigans and loose dresses. You weren't just gaining weight. You were growing life.

"They're finally saying hi," Jay murmured, wrapping his arms fully around you and resting his chin on your shoulder.

He smiled to himself, already imagining the story he'd tell later. About the night he got to take both of the loves of his life on a date for the first time.

SIM JAEYUN

You were lounging on the couch, nestled comfortably between Jake's legs, clad in an oversized hoodie that clearly belonged to him. A movie played quietly in the background, but Jake, as always, needed something to fidget with. This time, it was your fingers, which he absentmindedly played with while watching the screen.

He let out a small laugh at one scene, his right hand dropping gently to your stomach. He pressed lightly and tilted his head.

"Lovely, are you bloated? Was my pasta that good?" he teased, leaning down to pepper your neck and jawline with kisses.

You let out a laugh, half-heartedly swatting at his arm. "Stop it!"

You lifted the hoodie until the hem rested just below your chest, revealing a small but visible bump. Jake paused. His playful expression shifted as he stared at it.

"You calling our baby pasta?" you asked, amused, looking up at him with a smile tugging at your lips.

He stayed quiet, his hands now cradling the bump with a kind of reverence. He rubbed soft, slow circles on your skin, still in awe.

"Woah.. They're actually bumping, baby," he whispered, voice full of wonder. "That's our little bean."

You melted into his warmth as he kept talking softly to your stomach, his hands never leaving your skin. You didn't stop him when he stood up from his position to grab his phone and started taking pictures from different angles, even if the camera flash made you squint.

"God," Jake breathed, pressing a kiss to the very center of your bump, "I can't wait to meet them."

His palm settled gently at the base of your belly, holding it like something precious.

"I love you," he whispered, eyes back on yours. "Thank you."

PARK SUNGHOON

Since it had taken nearly a year to get pregnant, there were days you both forgot you actually were. You'd only be reminded in the early mornings, hunched over the toilet, or in the dead of night when you craved weird food combinations no one in their right mind would put together.

That also meant you hadn't let go of your favorite silky, skimpy sleepwear just yet.

You were in front of the bathroom mirror, casually spreading moisturizer across your face, wearing a white silk tank top trimmed with black lace that stopped just an inch above your belly button and some matching shorts. You didn't even look up when your husband came in, half-asleep from his nap and shirtless, preparing to shower.

He stood beside you for a moment before his eyes lowered, and then he stilled.

You caught his reflection hovering just behind you. Sunghoon's gaze was locked on your stomach. Slowly and wordlessly, he stepped closer and gently placed both hands over your stomach. You flinched at the sudden chill of his palms.

Your brow raised slightly. "Hoon?"

He didn't answer right away, still fixated on your reflection in the mirror. His calloused thumbs moved gently in circles over your skin, so quiet you almost didn't hear him.

"You're really pregnant, huh?" he murmured, voice thick with something between disbelief and wonder.

You followed his gaze down to the small, visible curve and placed your hand on top of his. "I guess I really am," you whispered, leaning back into his chest.

He lowered his head, pressing his forehead to your temple, his breath warm against your cheek. One arm slipped around your waist instinctively. Protective and grounding.

"I think it finally hit me now," he said quietly.

You smiled, fingers running through his hair as you leaned into his warmth just a little more.

taglist 1! bold can't be tagged — @stawberri @saphiranishimurashan @strxwbloody @heesexual74 @jooniesbears-blog @ayablogsblog @teddybeartaetae @gandaengene @snowprincehoon @e-r-i-15 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @maveysoup @hhyvsstuff @tobiosbbyghorl @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia @lostwonderwall @starlit-rin @luciathcv @kkamismom12 @1-hypegirl @50-husbands @talesofthegreatest @kristynaaah @izahere @aeri-shi @shawnyle @riribelle @storeyz @17ericas

[jo-com]

pls alex albon fic next🙏🤞parang awa mo na teh

──★ ｡🫧⋆｡˚ The Backup Plan

Alex Albon x Fem!Reader

୨ৎ Summary: You’ve had a long-standing pact with Alex: If you’re both still single by 30, you’ll marry each other...You’re engaged to someone else now… until Alex drunkenly posts the pact on Twitter. It blows up—and fans vote that you should dump your fiancé.

୨ৎ Genre: Slight angst?, a little smau and a happy ending or nah? read to find out ;)

୨ৎ Note: Send request y'all, also hope you like this! has some grammatical error and stuffs

ARCHIVES ⭑.ᐟ

They were sitting on the roof of his apartment, legs dangling over the edge, two beers between them and an entire city below. It was 2:08 AM, the kind of hour that made everything feel quieter, closer, truer.

You were both twenty-one. Young enough to believe in forever, dumb enough to talk about it like it was something you could schedule.

“I’m never gonna find someone,” Alex said, head tilted back to look at the stars. “They either want the driver or the version of me they think lives on yachts.”

You snorted. “Yeah, god forbid someone loves you for your sparkling sarcasm and sleep deprivation.”

He smiled, soft and sideways. The kind he only gave you. “You’re not exactly thriving in the romance department either.”

You leaned back on your elbows, the breeze catching your hair. “I’m holding out for a golden retriever in a human man’s body. Loyal, dumb, likes snacks.”

“That’s literally me,” he said, deadpan.

You turned to him, smirking. “You’re not dumb.”

He blinked. “That’s what you took from that?”

You were quiet for a moment, the laughter settling into something gentler.

And then you said it—half a joke, half a wish:

“Okay, if we’re both still single at thirty, we get married.”

Alex didn’t laugh. He didn’t even hesitate. He looked at you with that warm, steady certainty that always threw you off.

“Deal,” he said, holding out his pinky.

You looped yours with his.

“We’ll probably forget we even said this.”

But deep down, you knew you wouldn’t.

Neither of you ever did.

...

Years slipped through your fingers like sand—quiet, unnoticed, until they weren’t. Now, at twenty-eight, you and Alex were two almost-strangers orbiting around what used to be everything. Birthdays, wins, late-night calls—once sacred little rituals—were now reduced to muted texts and empty-hearted “miss you’s.”

The milestones still came. But they came alone.

The big 3-0 was creeping up now—no longer a distant joke or a silly pact sealed on a rooftop, but a deadline that loomed like a memory you hadn’t made peace with. It sat in the corners of your thoughts, like dust you kept forgetting to clean.

Only this time, something was different.

You were engaged.

To someone steady. Kind. Good. To someone who wasn’t him.

And for the first time since that night on the roof, the deal—the pinky promise you once held like a lifeline—felt like something you had quietly buried in the past. Not because you forgot.

But because remembering it hurt.

...

The proposal had been perfect.

A quiet dinner. Your favorite restaurant. Warm lights, soft music, a ring that sparkled in just the right way. He’d gotten down on one knee and asked, and you’d said yes with a smile that felt real.

It was real. But it wasn’t whole.

Because the first person you wanted to tell—the one person who would’ve rolled his eyes and said “finally, someone’s dumb enough to marry you”—wasn’t there. Not in your inbox. Not in your messages. Not even in your life the way he used to be.

You sent him a picture of the ring anyway.

No caption. Just that. He didn’t reply.

And maybe that should’ve been enough for you to let it go. To finally move forward with both feet planted where they should be.

...

username NOT ALEX ALBON SOFT LAUNCHING HIS HEARTBREAK AT 3AM 😭😭😭

username whoever that girl is… break up with your fiancé. it’s for the grid. for the sport. for the legacy ��💍🚩

username no bc if alex tweeted this about ME i would be at his door in a wedding dress IMMEDIATELY 👰‍♀️💅

username the way this man just said “i’m emotionally unavailable but loyal” in one tweet 🥲

username imagine being engaged and the ENTIRE F1 fandom is telling you to go back to alex albon. i would simply fold.

username this tweet has more chemistry than most paddock couples. i fear this ship is sailing with or without her 😭🚢

username alex albon said “what if i caused emotional damage AND chaos in 140 characters” and honestly? he succeeded ✨

username “they forget” — YOU KNOW SHE DIDN’T FORGET BRO 😭 this is pain. i’m feeling it in my chest.

...

Two months later—on a regular Tuesday, when the sky was gray and your phone was face-down—he tweeted it.

Your eyes widened instantly as you red between his tweet— Your breath caught without permission.

And that feeling—the one you'd spent months, maybe years, trying to bury—rose fast and vicious in your chest. That familiar tightness. That ache between your ribs. The one that only ever belonged to him.

Confusion hit first. Then came the anger.

What was he thinking? why now? why publicly?

And then came the other realization.

Why do i care so much?

Because everything was different now. You had a ring on your finger. A man who loved you. A wedding date marked in ink.

You were getting married.

Just not to the boy who once pinky-promised you forever at 2:08 a.m.

And that’s the problem.

...

You didn’t hear him come in.

You were still sitting on the couch, phone limp in your hand, the tweet burned into your retinas like some kind of confession you hadn’t meant to write—but somehow belonged to you anyway.

“Y/N?”

Your head snapped up. He was standing in the doorway, coat still on, holding a takeout bag and a look that made your stomach twist.

You swallowed. “Hey. You’re back early.”

He didn’t answer at first. Just walked in slowly, set the food on the counter, and stared at you in that quiet way he always did when he was thinking too hard and trying too hard not to show it.

“You’re trending,” he said.

Just like that.

You opened your mouth, but there was nothing ready to come out. Not an excuse. Not an explanation. Nothing that could make this better.

He sat across from you. No anger. No raised voice. Just… restraint.

“That tweet,” he said softly. “The one about the marriage pact.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

He let out a breath. It wasn’t a laugh. It wasn’t a scoff. It was disappointment, paper-thin and sharp.

“Do you love him?”

Your heart stuttered.

“No,” you said too quickly. “I mean—not like that. Not now. I don’t—”

“But you did.”

Silence.

He nodded, slow and defeated, like the answer had already been written in every pause, every time you’d flinched at Alex’s name, every time you smiled too softly at an old memory.

“I know I’m not him,” he added, barely above a whisper.

And the worst part was—you didn’t even know if that was meant to comfort you or remind you.

“I’m trying, Y/N,” he said. “I’ve been trying. But I feel like I’m holding a place someone else still owns.”

The room felt small. The air too still.

“I chose you,” you whispered. “I said yes.”

“But have you let him go?”

And that was the question, wasn’t it?

[farfromharry]

Summary: Lando’s girlfriend broke her leg and obviously he had to be the first to sign it

lando norris x reader

w/c 963

A broken leg, that was Y/N’s diagnosis. That and being incredibly clumsy. And she had been sulking about it for the better part of a day.

Lando had been scared to overstep. He knew she was upset, her movements for the next 2-3 months were limited, of course she would be upset. But he missed her. Being a boyfriend had taught him a lot about himself and one of those things was that he was extremely clingy when the right person was involved. He just wanted to spend time with her.

He gave it till 2pm the day after they left the hospital before he broke. He needed bribes and a smile and hopefully everything would go to plan.

The man knocked on the bedroom door, getting no response just as expected. “Are you still moping or can I come in?” It was a dangerous game he was playing. Poking the bear. Luckily for him, this bear had a soft spot. That soft spot was named Lando Norris. She was just as gone for him as he was for her. A match made in heaven.

A huff came from beneath the blankets. It made him smile. “Depends. Did you bring ice cream… or chocolate?” Her voice was quiet, like she was being shy about it. He knew her too well though.

“Chocolate ice cream okay?”

She lifted her head like she was checking he was being honest. The man waved the tub where she could see with a spoon in his other hand. For the first time in a full day, she smiled. “You beautiful man, get over here.”

That was his green light. He basically jogged over to the bed, throwing himself in beside her. He offered the ice cream and a kiss, both doing wonders to lighten her mood.

“How you feeling?” He brushed her hair from her face.

She frowned, curling into his side. “Like I can’t go anywhere without burdening someone.” Considering she had never used crutches, everyone agreed it was best to accompany her places in case she stumbled or fell. It was out of love. No one wanted her to hurt herself more than she already had.

Now it was his turn to frown. He couldn’t even begin to tell her how much of a burden she wasn’t. “I will literally carry you everywhere until it’s healed. You’re not allowed to be sad anymore.”

Unfortunately she knew he was being serious. “Lan, you can’t just—“

“Yes, actually, I can.” He raised an arm, pulled up his sleeve and flexed. “I have incredible biceps. It’d be a breeze.” He winked for good measure and she hated how it made her a little flustered.

It all started with his finger tracing shapes on her leg. That was probably where he got the idea from. Then it graduated to him shuffling down the bed, deciding he had to make his mark on her cast.

She didn’t know where he got the pen, probably in one of his many pockets for some random reason. It did take her by surprise though that he was just blindly helping himself. She might not have minded if he had written her a nice message or something. “Did you just sign my cast?” She blinked, blankly.

“Obviously, that’s what you do with casts.”

Her eyes flickered down to the ink now soaking into the plaster. It was there clear as day. The squiggly lines that somehow made up ‘Lando’ with a little 4 beside it. “No, Lando, you literally autographed it.”

He looked down with a furrowed brow, like he hadn’t even realised what he’d done. It was sort of a reflex. When a pen was put in his hand and he was supposed to sign something, that’s exactly what he did. His signature was scrawled mindlessly across the cast because that’s what he was so used to doing. Over the years he’d signed everything from skin to wrappers. Apparently now he even signed his girlfriend.

“Shit.” Any normal person would have felt guilty or even feigned it, but not him. Lando laughed, like, full belly laughed at his mistake. “I’m sorry, baby.”

The woman rolled her eyes. Admittedly she couldn’t help but feel slightly amused herself.

“I’ll fix it.”

“How?”

There was that evil grin on his face again. “You just eat your ice cream. Let me work my magic.”

She didn’t even want to know what he had planned. When it came to Lando sometimes it was better to turn a blind eye and let him do his thing. She sighed, doing as he said. As long as he didn’t draw something phallic like the child he was, she supposed she could get over it.

The man was concentrating hard. Every now and then she would glance at him, find him with his head practically buried in her thigh and his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. It was adorable.

10 minutes must have gone by before he finally announced he was done with his masterpiece. “All done.” He sat back with a proud smile on his face.

When she finally took a look, it was like something a crushing teen might draw in the margin of their high school notebook. Hearts, everywhere, followed by a ‘Lando <3 Y/N.’ It was silly, but it made her smile and that was all he wanted to do. Plus now that he’d dedicated his love to her, at least everyone would know she was his.

“I love it, you’re a real artist.”

He beamed. It would be with her for the next 3 months so he was glad she liked it. He stole a quick kiss and then a bit of ice cream when she wasn’t looking. “Good, ‘cause I love you.”

[bcksbarnes]

one and only

pairing: husband!bucky barnes x reader

summary: you and bucky decide to take the next step, afterwards you both reflect on your choices, and your love.

word count: 3.3K

cw: thunderbolts* spoilers

a/n: i was recently in a wedding and forgot how much i love true love, this is inspired by that. this is just straight tooth rotting fluff! enjoy!!! ✨

Marriage was always in the cards for Bucky — well, it was when he thought that life had a time limit and wasn't something that could be delayed. He had imagined returning from the war to find a partner, a house with a white picket fence, maybe 2-3 kids, and, hopefully, a good paying job.

None of that came true.

None of that would ever be the case for him.

So he gave up his dreams and realized that life had dealt him a brand new hand. He had spent many years running, hiding, now it seemed like all he could do was try to make his way back to at least some of his old life. Marriage didn't seem to align this time around, and he was okay with that.

Or at least, he pretended to be.

Imagine his surprise when you made your way into his life. Bucky didn't know if the universe was playing some fucked up trick on him, or if he had been reading this new hand of cards wrong this entire time. He knew you were special. Life changing, even.

There was never a doubt about it, that you were someone worth fighting for — someone that he was meant to love. It felt foreign at first, he had gone so long without the kind touch of another human being, but the two of you eased into it as if it was the most natural thing in this world.

Because it was.

You never explicitly spoke about marriage, not even when things shifted from fun to serious.

There was always a reason not to:

Bucky dealing with the loss of Steve

Him and Sam weren't seeing eye to eye for a while

He decides to have a midlife crisis and become a Congressman (which you happily supported, even if you weren't entirely sure where it came from).

Now, he was finding his footing with a new group, the Thunderbolts — er, New Avengers (there were some legal issues with the name that Bucky didn't want to get into, he was usually too tired, too stressed, it wasn't important enough).

Which is why it surprised you that one night, after dinner, Bucky's leg seemed to be shaking more than usual — a clear sign that he had a lot on his mind. He was pretty good at not wearing his emotions on his sleeve, but tonight seemed different

"Everything okay?" you ask, your hand resting on his knee under the table.

Bucky turns his head in your direction with a look that said he saw you, but that his brain was in an entirely different place. There were dark spots on the shoulders of his gray t-shirt, he had taken a shower as soon as he got home and the droplets of water were falling from his still damp hair.

For a man so large and brooding, Bucky looks so small. He's hunched inwards, his elbows resting on the table as he holds his head in his hands. He barely touched his food, instead just moving it around with a fork. Holding secrets to himself.

"Things have been crazy," he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Walker's been driving me up a wall every single day asking the dumbest questions. Alexei asked me if we could experiment with doing a double dosage of the serum. Yelena's been talking me off the edge so I don't bust everyone's heads in."

Your lips curl into a soft smile as you squeeze his leg, offering him your silent support. The team was still semi-new and most days Bucky didn't have the patience to deal with them — even if silently he enjoyed their presence.

"You're all still working out the kinks."

"It's been a year, you'd think we'd have it figured out by now. Sam does, Steve always did."

"Sam didn't for a while," you remind him. "And Steve never did, he was just confident. You will work it out, you always do."

Bucky's head lolls to the side to look at you. Even in the smallest moments you never gave up on him, you always told him it would find a way — you were usually right, he just hated waiting for it.

"I love you, you know that?" he asks quietly, his hand moving to grab yours and bring it up to his lips. He presses a soft kiss against the palm of your hand before he intertwines your fingers together.

"I do," you nod. "I love you, too."

Bucky uses his free hand to push away his plate of untouched food, then he grabs the bottom of your chair and drags you over until you're next to him. Leaning over his hands wrap around the underside of your legs and lifts them up, letting them drape over his lap. He watches you intently, always memorizing your features — always scared one day he won't recognize them anymore.

"That's not the only thing that's on my mind tonight," he admits, his voice soft.

"Care to share?"

"Maybe."

You chuckle as you lean your head against the back of the chair, the amount of love in your eyes could make the Earth shatter.

Whatever is going on in that big, beautiful brain of his is taking a toll on him, his fingers playing with the tips of yours as he purses his lips. It's obvious he's trying to figure out what exactly to say, or how to say it.

"We should get married," Bucky finally comes clean, exposing his thoughts right then and there.

You wish you could say you were surprised by his admission, but the truth is you and Bucky had known from the very start that this was where your lives were headed together. It didn't need to be said audibly, no one needed to make sure. This was it.

"When?" you ask.

"Now."

"Right now?" you chuckle again, shaking your head with a playful eye roll. "The courthouse is closed, we'd need a witness."

"Too many logistics," he huffs. "Tomorrow, then."

"I'd have to check my calendar."

It was Bucky's turn to laugh, his head tilts back as he lets out a hearty bark, one that he only reserved for you. His hand runs up and down your leg, you can feel the calluses on his hands from where he held his gun or gripped his knife too tightly, but you didn't care. You loved the feeling of him.

"Mean."

"Tomorrow might work," you say, your eyes examining his features. "I don't have anything to wear."

"I don't care. You could wear that ratty old t-shirt you've been hanging onto for too long. I just want to marry you."

So that's exactly what you and Bucky did.

The next day the two of you called Sam and asked (pleaded) with him to meet you at the courthouse that afternoon and be the witness. He put up a little bit of a fight about the whole Avengers thing but you managed to remind him that this wasn't about petty arguments.

Bucky managed to scrounge up a suit from his time as a Congressman and you found an outfit that would work — it was slightly off white, maybe a little less traditional, but it did the job.

"Wow. And you we were worried about having nothing to wear" Bucky says as the two of you meet at the top of the steps in your home. "Give me a spin." You take his extended hand and he spins you around, whistling in admiration as he does. "Beautiful, as always."

"Not too bad yourself," you say as you face him again, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Are you ready to marry me, Barnes?"

"I've been ready since the day I met you," he whispers your name before he kisses you again, his lips lingering a few seconds longer this time.

Deep down he doesn't want to leave, he wants to take those clothes right off of you and worship the ground you walk on. He wants to hear you moan out your vows and promise to be with him forever. He'll settle for the courthouse instead.

The wait is longer than you had anticipated, apparently trying to get a marriage license was more of a hassle than either of you had expected (which wasn't very high since you both did a quick search on the computer the night before than hoped for the best).

Sam showed up as promised, albeit a little late, and now the three of you waited in the lobby of the courthouse, your leg bouncing in anxious anticipation.

"You're going to start an earthquake," Sam teased, earning a playful nudge from you.

"It's not everyday that you get married, Wilson."

"Can't believe R2-D2 over here found a soulmate," his chin nods over in Bucky's direction.

Bucky flips Sam off in a way that's both brotherly and full of hate, a perfect balance that only the two of them could master. You turn your head to the side to hide the amused smirk on your face, Sam was always getting you in trouble with his jokes.

"Don't egg him on," Bucky mutters.

"I'm sorry, R2-D2 is funny."

He grumbles something under his breath about being lucky he was going to marry you, but it doesn't matter because at the same time you hear your names being called out by one of the staff members.

It was time.

You wish you could say that you remembered every detail of what happened. That it was this beautiful, over-the-top ceremony filled with tears and wishes of love. In truth, it was quick and your mind sort of blanked out during it. There were no rings, no exchanging of pre-written vows, Sam watched a few feet back, with a quiet smile. It was intimate, quiet, exactly what you wanted.

A few signed documents, one cranky judge and a kiss later and the two of you were officially married. Not in the traditional sense that everyone grows up to dream about, but in a way that still promised each other the world and more.

"We're married," Bucky says.

It was hours later, the sun had now set, the world was dark and still. The two of you were now sitting on the floor of the kitchen, your legs draped over his. There was a skylight on the ceiling that let the moon and stars shine through illuminating the floor.

Bucky had gotten rid of his tie and suit jacket at some point in the night, the first button of his shirt was undone and his hair was a mess — but he was your husband, and he was beautiful. Your own hair was a mess and your strap had fallen down your arm, though you didn't care to fix it, there was a mysterious stain right under your chest and for all intents and purposes it was exactly how you pictured your wedding night.

A few feet away were a few empty bottles of champagne and a cake that you picked up from the grocery store on the way home. The white box was opened revealing what was left of a chocolate cake (which was now some crumbs) and two forks because of course you and Bucky fed each other and laughed about how weirdly dry it was.

"You keep saying that," you tease, biting down on your bottom lip.

"Can you believe it though? We're married." He grabs the open bottle of champagne by the neck and tips it to his lips, taking a long sip. It's not like he would ever feel the effects of the alcohol, but getting time to sit here with you and bask in your love made it feel like a celebration. What was a celebration without a little booze? "I never thought I'd be married, not after everything that happened."

You nod your head and give him a sad smile, grabbing the bottle that he was now holding out for you and taking a much smaller sip, the bubbles popping in your mouth.

"I wrote vows," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

"When did you have time to write vows?" he asks, his eyebrow raising.

"Not last night, a while ago," you admit. "Do you want to hear them?"

There's a knot in Bucky's stomach at the idea that you had laid everything out on a piece of paper. He thought of his name in your neat handwriting, and how you must have taken time to reflect on this relationship — this love. He doesn't tell you he's done the same, that sitting in the breast of his suit pocket is his own set of vows. Ones that he wrote years ago.

But right now he wants nothing more in that moment than to hear what you have to say, so he nods his head. You stand immediately, using his shoulder as leverage, and patter over to the steps, soon finding your way to the bedroom. You kept the vows in the nightstand next to your side of the bed, a folded up piece of paper that you scribbled on the nights he was away.

They served as a constant reminder of his undying love for you.

The paper is tight in your hand as you make your way back to the kitchen, taking a seat on the floor in the same position that you got up from, your back now resting against the cabinets. Your eyes find Bucky's and when he gives you a soft smile you unfold the paper and begin to read:

"I'm not going to pretend that these are perfect, or even close to describing the love that I feel for you, but I would be a fool not to reflect on our story, and hope that I've had nearly a fraction of the impact on your life as the one you've had on mine.

"When we met for the first time, I knew at that moment that I would never be the same. Neither of us were searching for the other, but there we were, standing a few feet apart at that dirty dive bar that Sam brought us to …"

Bucky laughs.

"And the world seemed just a little bit brighter — like something had changed. Well, something did change. We were both scared of the world, of each other, and of falling in love. But we ignored those little voices, we leapt into this and no matter how scary or hard it was, we did it together. Hand in hand. Head first.

"Life isn't linear and our stories are never what we expect them to be, but with you by my side I know that we are unstoppable. You've shown me how to be brave and what true unconditional love looks like. If I've never said it before, then I am saying it now: thank you.

"I promise to be your partner, your best friend and your soulmate in this lifetime and every one. We will find each other no matter where we are or who we become, because our stories are now one. It's not just you and me, it's us.

"And at the end of our days you will not just be Bucky Barnes the hero, you'll be James Barnes, my husband, my one true love. And I hope by the time I'm reading this that we decide to get married, or calling you my husband will be kind of awkward."

Bucky laughs again, you join him as you try to get the rest of the words out, trying to hold back tears. Your voice is now shaking.

"And if we did get married, then I hope we did it like we do everything. Together, hand in hand, head first."

You fold the paper in your lap, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as you meet Bucky's gaze. His eyes are glossed over and there's a fondness on his face that he only reserves for you — like most of them are.

"I love you, Buck," you whisper.

Bucky nods his head a few times as he leans back, reaching out for his suit jacket that was behind him on the floor. If you were going to read him your vows, it was time for his. He pulls the crumbled paper out and holds it up. Your eyes widen in surprise, you did not expect him to have his own ready.

"I keep this thing with me wherever I go, I think I've crossed off a lot of things that didn't sound right," he says, showing you the paper for a moment. "May I?"

You nod your head. Bucky clears his throat, then begins:

"I'm not a man of many words, though I'd like to be, because life has passed me by and my only regret has been not telling you that 'I love you' enough. I know that you'll argue and say that I do, but I don't, because I should have told you the second we met and every moment after. Every single silence should have been filled with me saying those words to you.

"I knew it, I always did. What is there not to love? Your kindness? Your intelligence? The way you make sure to always keep my side of the bed warm when I get home late because you know I hate when it's cold? If I am the man worthy of your love then I have done something right in this world. I'll never take this love for granted, not ever.

"Maybe in another lifetime we found each other sooner, but in this lifetime we found each other exactly when we needed it. I always needed you. My life has been a constant tidal wave and you were the only one to swim me ashore. Now I can breathe, and you and I sit in the sun and bask in the warmth, where we belong.

"I'm sorry there aren't many words to explain how deep my love for you is, but I hope that every single day I can show you instead. I promise to be your partner, your best friend and your protector. And from now until my dying days I love you, I love you, I love you and I love you."

The paper in Bucky's hand is now splattered with teardrops, the once black ink now smudging across the off white paper. But it doesn't matter, none of it does, the vows are just a promise, one that the two of you had already made years ago.

You crawl over to him and wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap. There's a few silent tears shed as you hold each other close, but nothing neither of you haven't seen before. It’s a rare moment of intimacy between lovers.

When Bucky pulls away to look at you there's a smile, not a sad one, but a grin so wide the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"We forgot rings."

"I know," you nod. "Do you have a pen?"

Bucky nods, reaching back into his suit pocket again and pulling out a ballpoint pen. You grab his hand and click the pen to expose the tip, writing your initials on the inside of his ring finger. He does the same shortly after — not a permanent solution, but a symbolic one.

He kisses the back of your hand a few times then begins to stand, lifting you to your feet and into his arms. Neither of you untangle from each other, instead opting to slowly sway back and forth in the middle of the kitchen, never wanting to let go. There was no music playing, there didn't need to be.

You and Bucky were starting your forever with whispered I love you's, hand in hand, head first.

[yothatshitgas]

The Dress | Part 2

Note: Work of fiction.

This is part two. Part one. I lowkey want to turn this into a whole series but thats just a commitment that I'm afraid my job wont give me time to do. So I'll stick to oneshots for now. __

“I get first shot,” Azzi said, flashing a grin full of challenge and charm as she strutted toward her spot near midcourt.

Paige didn’t argue. She just stepped aside, lips twitching with amusement as she watched Azzi settle in at the edge of the sideline logo. Azzi set her feet like she was lining up for a real game. Her shooting form was textbook perfection, even in a casual round of horse. The ball arced through the air with beautiful rotation and dropped through the basket - all net, no hesitation.

“Alright, your turn,” she said, casually stepping back with a smug glint in her eye.

Paige retrieved the ball, dribbled it twice and walked to the exact same spot. Her gaze locked in on Azzi the entire way. She didn’t break eye contact as she pulled up, raised the ball above her head and let it fly.

Azzi’s eyebrow lifted, “shot got better,” she said, a teasing tone in her voice, “guess rehab gave you time to fix that weird hitch in your release.”

Paige jogged after the ball and passed it back with a smirk, “jealousy isn’t a cute look on you, Az.”

Azzi caught it, already turning toward the wing, “I was hoping you’d miss,” she rolled her shoulders, “got some hard hitting questions I’ve been saving for years.”

“Oh yeah?” Paige followed, hands on her hips, “like what?”

“Well,” Azzi said with a shrug as she lined up a corner three, “you’d have to miss to find out.”

The ball left her hand in a high arc and dropped through the net again.

“I never miss,” Paige shot back, eyes narrowed playfully as she chased the ball down for her turn, “you, on the other hand, are looking real nervous.”

The game picked up intensity. Corner threes. No look bank shots. Over the backboard tosses. Behind the back layups. Both of them trying to outdo the other, digging deep into their bags like it was a championship skills challenge instead of a friendly shootaround. They were trash talking and laughing through the effort, but their focus was razor sharp. Neither was willing to give the other an inch.

The scoreboard of their silent game was stitch at zero.

Until Azzi paused near half court. She spun the ball in her hands, glanced once at Paige and squared up.

“Alright, lets see what you really got,” she said, and launched the ball.

It soared through the air in a perfect arc, Paige followed its path with wide eyes, heart thudding as it hit the glass then dropped through the net.

“Seriously?” She groaned.

Azzi just grinned.

Paige walked to the half court line, cradling the ball in her hands. She took a long breath, then dribbled once, bending her knees as she stared down the rim. The shot arced high, hanging in the air like it was deciding whether or not to give her grace. It clipped the front of the rim with a heavy bounce and veered sharply to the left. . 

Clang.

Azzi’s voice rang out, sickeningly sweet, “H.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s hear it. What is this hard hitting question you’ve been dying to ask?”

Azzi’s grin softened into something else entirely, something more careful. Paige recognized it, it was actually a look that she personally hated seeing on her. It meant Azzi was thinking too much, but then it changed again, her smile turned more honest. It had Paige feeling flustered, a slow heat crawling up her neck and to her cheeks. She looked away too fast, suddenly aware of how loud her heart felt in her chest.

Azzi stepped forward, closing the space between them like she had every right to. Her voice was quieter now, “Paige,” she said, treating the older girl’s name like a well kept secret, “how come you never asked me to come to UConn?”

“What?”

“You heard me,” she said, “answer or you get O.”

“Look, it’s not like I didn’t want to. But you were so set on UCLA, you talked about it like it was the only place that made sense. I didn’t want to get in the way of your dream,” Paige paused, swallowing down the hesitation tightening her throat, “I wanted you here. I did. I still do.”

“You really didn’t think I’d drop everything just to spend the next four years playing next to you?”

“You shouldn’t have to,” came the reply and without thinking, her hand reached out and found the other’s, “that’s what I’m trying to say. Why would I ask you to be a shadow when you could be great on your own?”

Azzi laughed softly, gaze flicking down to their intertwined hands before drifting back up, “you’re thinking too highly of yourself again, Bueckers,” there was that smirk, “what if I came here to steal your spotlight?”

A breath caught in her throat.

“God,” she murmured, lips twitching into a slow grin, “that’d be so hot.”

That response earned her a shove, a gentle one but it was playful. Azzi scoffed and pushed away, retreating a few steps before snatching the ball back up, “come on,” she called over her shoulder, “it’s getting late and I still gotta beat your ass.”

“Confidence looks real good on you, Fudd,” came the reply, “kinda into it.”

“Kinda?” Azzi repeated, raising a brow as she walked back toward her next shot.

A shrug, then a jog forward. That dumb, happy smile was back. The same one that hadn’t left since the first shot of the night, “fine,” the blonde relented, “very into it.”

The game resumed, and with it, the air between them shifted back into one that was competitive, playful but still laced with something that hadn’t quite settled just yet. 

After that first question, the rest stayed easy. Safer. Azzi kept her tone casual, her questions framed in the comfort of familiarity. She asked for updates, the kind that sounded routine but between the two of them, it carried more weight than either of them let on.

O - “How’s your mom?”

“Still thinks I don’t eat enough.”

R - “The knee?”

“Better. Stronger. Rehab was rough but sitting on the sideline was harder. I just wanted to play, the court was so close yet it felt so far.”

They moved through those topics like old friends slipping back into rhythm, passing the ball between them as naturally as the conversation. But, then came one that landed a bit different. A little too pointed to be casual.

S - “Did you ever date anyone?”

Paige blinked, caught off guard, “what?”

Azzi turned like she hadn’t just dropped a question that reached back through years of distance and silence, “you know, in those two years we weren’t talking, anyone serious?”

There wasn’t a clear depiction of jealousy in her voice. No. But there was a trace of pure curiosity, it was vulnerable almost. Like Azzi didn’t actually want the answer, but needed it anyway. As if knowing wouldn’t hurt as much as a continuous wonder.

“No,” she said after a moment. Simple.

“Why?”

Paige looked up, a slow smirk forming on her lips as she cradled the ball in one hand, “that’s another question, Az,” she said, dribbling once, “you’re gonna have to wait your turn.”

She stepped back to the top of the key and rose into her shot, the kind she’d taken a million times in every gym from Minnesota to Storrs. Her form was clean. Shoulder square. Release smooth. But the ball hit the rim, rolled indecisively for a moment, then dropped off the side.

Miss.

It bounced twice on the hardwood before Azzi jogged over and scooped it up, still grinning.

“I’m gonna start thinking you’re missing on purpose,” she teased, making her way to the same spot Paige had just vacated. She took the shot as if it was second nature and the ball sailed through the net without even grazing the rim.

She turned, victorious, “there, another try.”

Paige chuckled under her breath, catching the rebound as it bounced back in her direction. She walked to the top of the key again, shoulder rolling back with ease as she prepped for the shot. Only, she didn’t take it. Instead, Paige let the ball roll off her fingertips.

“Ask me,” she said.

Azzi blinked, surprised but she stepped forward, eyes locked on Paige’s and asked again, gently this time:

“Why not?”

“I’d never wanted anyone else more than I wanted this girl who lived thousands of miles away,” she said, “someone I only ever saw once a year, but she lived in my head like she’d moved in, rearranged the furniture and left her sneakers at the door,” Azzi’s breath caught slightly as Paige stepped closer, hands finding their way to her hips with familiarity, “when we agreed to focus on our stuff, I thought I was doing the right thing. Choosing the grind, the game. The future. But the longer we stayed apart, the louder it got. The voice telling me there was something I wanted just as much, maybe more than basketball.”

Azzi tilted her head, her voice barely audible now, “and what was that?”

Paige smiled, slow and shy, “yeah,” she murmured, brushing a thumb just above Azzi’s hipbone, “I wonder that too, Az.”

[beabatoru]

10 things I hate about you 𝜗ৎ hockey player! gojo x reader

pt. 1/2

pairing ⊹ ࣪ ˖ college au - hockey player! gojo x reader

summary : getting accepted into one of the ivy league universities was supposed to be you getting the best education you could get, not the centerpiece of a bet created by none other than the hockey team, the players challenge satoru that he can't make you fall for him in 10 days in which he allows his pride take over to go out of his way to take on the bet thinking it would be easy. what he didn't expect was to fall for you instead, but after you find out his ulterior motives, your trust in him shatters and so does his heart. now with the truth out, he is now more determined than ever to get you back, but this time, he isn't playing games.

warning / tags ⟢ fluff, angst, brief smut, college au, this fic is based on the film '10 things I hate about you', partial angst with readers father regarding sickness, reader is low income.

w.c : 10k

a / n . this is a reupload from my old blog ! and yes this fic was inspired by '10 things I hate about you'

transferring from a community college to one of the top 10 universities was a huge step for you. you weren't even sure how you did it. but those two years of attending your local community college that wasn't even ten minutes away from your house paid off. one that made you feel ashamed in going since it felt like a detour from your actual goals.

growing up, you promised your family members that they'd see you majoring in the best schools and in becoming something they would be proud of to call a daughter. thats why you studied so hard in grade school, getting the best grades not allowing them to go below an 85%. but after your mother left shortly after your father got diagnosed with cancer. your dreams had to take a backseat to allow you to become the backbone of your family that consisted of you, your father, and your two younger brothers.

money came in short with your minimum paying job and it just wasn't enough to pay off any college funds. your brother who just turned sixteen always helped you out with groceries and bills now that your father retired from his job, after you forced him to, making sure he was taken care of at all times. hospital bills were also pricey, sometimes your insurance wouldn't cover all the costs and they had to be paid directly from your personal money.

so after applying to yale and actually receiving an acceptance letter in the mail a week after had you trembling in both excitement and fear. you were happy you could finally get the education you've been longing for, but on the other hand you wouldn't want to leave all the responsibility to your brother. he disagreed and encouraged your dreams instead when you sat him down to talk.

"y/n you've always been wanting to go to university. im sixteen now, im not the ten year old you know anymore, I am more than willing to take care after dad and matt."

you let out a sigh as you averted your gaze back down to the letter in your hands. the bold lettering called out your name and you tried to resist. but you couldn't.

"anything happens, you call me immediately." you firmly ordered. the pink haired boy chuckled, the corner of his lips lifted up as well as the corners of his eyes wrinkled before nodding. "got it."

thats how you found yourself packing the last bit of your shirts. no matter how hard you tried to, you just couldn't help the bit of tears that spilled from your eyes. you paused, letting out a shaky breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around your waist. you looked down to see the soft face of your brother, Matt.

"sissy dont cry. me papa and yuji will be okay!" he promised.

you knelt down to wrap your arms around him as well, holding onto the warmth you were going to leave behind in a few hours. then, another pair wrapped around you both, a much stronger set of arms, then another, your fathers, who was weaker than before but still full of love. before you knew it, your whole family was cuddling together in the comfort of your own room.

no words were exchanged for a few minutes.

"ill miss those blueberry pancakes you make" your father whispered, making everyone giggle. you raised your head up, propping it on top of matt.

"ill leave the recipe for you guys."

your father placed a small delicate peck on your forehead.

airports were your least favorite method of transportation. you couldn't handle hearing the incoherent voice in the speakers call out the plane that was about to board in twenty minutes, or the panicked looks on peoples faces when they realize they booked the wrong flight, or the people just in general, so many people. the whole process was messy and annoying.

your family walked you to where the escalators headed up to your gate. with a sigh, you turned to face them watching as they held back tears. "ill miss you guys." a beat passed. then another. and you found yourself in another family hug.

it was still weird with the missing pair of warm arms that belonged to your mother. but looking back, maybe they weren't warm at all. they were always cold and empty whenever you hugged her. you reminded yourself that she left willingly. you quickly pushed those negative thoughts behind, not wanting to think about her when you had the next best four years of your life right ahead of you.

"call me if you need anything." you said with your voice more steady.

your father nodded before everyone let go at the sound of the speakers calling out your gate number. with one final look and a last goodbye, you stood on the escalators holding back tears of your own.

if the process of checking into the airport wasn't annoying enough, the next five hours boarding the plane itself would be. the man snoring next to you couldn't be any louder, the baby crying behind you wouldn't shut up, and the women gossiping in front of you was the only source of entertainment you could get.

but it all came to this. yale. the beautiful sight of the university's campus. you took it all in, seeing how students walked in with luggages or boxes of their own with the assistance of their parents or friends.

the sun casted a glow on the building itself making it appear straight out of a movie. you stood there for a moment, continuing to take it all in before your main character moment was interrupted by someone bumping into you.

he had white hair that resembled snow itself. he stumbled a bit before regaining his balance. the boys behind him that you figured were his friends laughed at the sight.

"oh uh sorry." he quickly apologized, glancing your way smiling like he meant the entire opposite of his apology before playfully nudging his friend as they continued making their way into the building. you blinked, continuing to watch as he disappeared. he was oddly.. beautiful.

after picking up a few papers form the directory, you followed the directions on the map to where the dormitories were located. you found out that you would be sharing your dorm with a roommate, you didn't mind as you saw this as an opportunity to make your very first friend.

and you were right because the second you twisted the door knob, not fully getting to turn it around before it swung open on its own, introducing a rather tall girl with the prettiest aesthetic and the sweetest smile plastered on her face that comforted you in ways you didn't know you needed.

"hi! I'm miwa!" the girl said in which you returned her greeting with your name. she moved to the side allowing you to step in. you took in the large room. it looks like she already has claimed her part of the room on the left side. band and show posters plastered all over her walls neatly with stuffed animals lying peacefully on her bed. it reminded you fondly of matt recalling how he has millions of plushies on his bed.

"need some help with that?" she pointed at your suitcases. you hesitated at first not wanting to bother her but it wouldn't hurt, right? "yes please." you chuckled which made her grin.

"great, roommate bonding begins now!"

hours pass by full of cleaning and organizing and chatter between you and the blue haired girl. you found out that she's been here for the past two years and you explained to her that you were a transfer. somewhere in between hanging fairy lights and folding blankets, she let it slip that she's crushing on a boy that is on the hockey team.

"didn't know they had a hockey team here." you said as you placed the last piece of clothing in the closet provided by the school. miwa gasped dramatically. "okay now I need to take you out to watch a game sometime!"

she flopped down onto your bed next to you. "its like an essential yale culture."

"deal. i'd like to see how good looking this boy you claim is the most handsome boy in all of yale to exist really is."

"he is!"

the first day of school wasn't until next week, yet you could already feel the nerves setting in as well as the homesickness. you pulled out your phone, dimming the brightness now that miwa was asleep and all the lights were turned off. pressing on yujis contact you sent him a message.

you || 9:04 P.M

everything alright?

yuji || 9:10 P.M

everything's great

you let out a sigh of relief at his words.

the first day was full of chaos, at least for you. you woke up a bit late after your alarm failed to do its job, you lost your map that showed the entire campus, and on top of that you had no idea what to wear.

after brushing your teeth and washing your face, you quickly slipped on a pair of pants and a cute top before rushing out of your dorm all while brushing your hair. you made it on time thankfully, but you surely learned your lesson to set your alarm to full volume.

your classes finally came to an end and you dragged your tired body that was aching from carrying all the syllabus and textbooks in your bag towards your dorm. miwa was already there scrolling through her phone.

"oh hey!," she flinched as she took a closer look at you. "you look rough"

you placed your bag down on the floor before flopping on your bed. "I am rough" you said with a grumble. she moved from her bed towards yours. "hey lighten up, tomorrow will be better. its the second day of school and the first hockey game"

"already?"

"yeah. since its the same previous team as last year versus some other school. coach said he wanted to kick off this season early for some reason. im not complaining, I get to see kokichi!"

"oh right your man" you teased which made her chubby pale cheeks turn a light pink shade before she bolted towards her closet pulling out two tops. "okay so which one says 'hey cute hockey player over there! wanna go out with me?'"

you burst out laughing before pointing at the one on the right hand. "that one, definitely that one."

you were never the type of person to enjoy sports. your brothers and dad enjoyed them though. they always connected both the couches together and gathered a bunch of blankets and snacks whenever a big game came up. now you are here witnessing one happen right in front of you, not on a screen.

you pulled out your phone to snap a picture to send to the family group chat. one you created after you had to delete the previous one with your mother in it. you angled the phone carefully, snapping a picture of the players already spread out ready to kick off the game.

you stared at your screen for a second before sending the message to the group chat. the second you sent it, the announcer's voice came to the speakers and the crowd erupted.

"there he is!" miwa squealed as she pointed at the dark haired boy, kokichi. he was rather attractive and you could see why she liked him. they definitely would make a cute couple. he was walking with a friend who had white hair. your eyes squinted as you looked a bit closer.

it was the same boy who bumped into you a week ago. his white locks were messy and he had a grin plastered over his face. it seemed that he was popular with the girls because they went wild at the sight of him.

you were interrupted from your thoughts when miwa's elbow made contact with your shoulder. "look, he waved at me!"

your eyes traced back to kokichi. "yeah, I saw." but your eyes kept wandering back to the boy with white hair. number ten. you watched as he placed his helmet on and slid across the rink to get into position.

a buzzer sounded across the arena, putting the game to a start and sending the crowd into a loud roar. you sat a bit straighter as you tried to keep track of the hockey puck. all the players were a blur of white and blue as they slid through the ice rink.

number 10 was sharp.

he was focused and quick, weaving through the other players. he stole the puck clean with a swift movement of his stick, gliding towards the opposite teams net. the air was thick with anticipation and it seemed that the entire arena was holding it's breath, and you didn't realize that you were holding yours as well.

then he hit it straight into the back of the cage with a satisfying clank.

applause echoed and so did the screams of the players' name.

satoru.

he rushed to his teammates doing a small celebration before continuing the game. maybe hockey wasn't too bad.

the game ended as soon as the buzzer could be heard, with your school winning. people made their way towards the exit or down to the rink. the hockey cheerleaders, glittering with their tiny ass skirts, made their way to their boyfriends who were players.

but most of them?

they went to satoru, congratulating him like he had just saved the world itself from an apocalypse. his hands reached to take off his gear, forehead dripping with a thin layer of sweat.

"im gonna go talk to kokichi." miwa said as she stood up from the bleacher already feeling the nerves settling down her stomach. you nodded, following her. she wrapped her arms around the boy, a hug in which he returned as well.

"thanks for coming." he said in a low voice placing his lips on hers practically melting the poor girl setting her rosacea on fire. you stood there a bit awkward not realizing that a pair of eyes was placed on your figure.

"hey, is she new?" a player asked his friends, pointing directly at you.

the other boy shrugged. "I guess, never seen her before." he turned to satoru who was busy untying the shoelaces of his skates, whistling at him. "yo satoru! remember when you were whining about not having any other girl to crack?"

satoru's eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a bit before he approached his friend. "yeah, what about it?" the guy grinned, jerking his chin toward the bleachers.

"what about her?"

he could barely see you due to his poor eyesight now that he had taken off his contacts. he saw you with a girl he knew was in a situationship with kokichi, his friend. "who the hell is that?"

"she's new. go after her."

satoru grumbled. "she looks like a total loner." his friend shrugged, untying his long black hair. "you like a challenge though, don't you?" he tossed his stick into his bag. "ten days. thats the bet"

"woah we're making this a bet?" satoru raised his eyebrow. there was a beat of silence, long enough to make him think this through. it's been a while since he's been laid, not wanting to continue the life of being a frat boy and a 'play boy.' he really just wanted to focus on his studies and hockey as well, if he found a girl somewhere throughout that then he'd settle down.

he grabbed his water bottle, taking a sip from it. "ten days." he repeated, mostly to himself. "suguru I don't know-"

"you backing out?" suguru questioned, wanting to stir something.

no matter how much he wanted to resist, he just couldn't because no matter how much he swore that he stopped doing that shit, he missed it just a bit. "fine, ten days."

his jaw was tightened watching as his friend smirked. the group chuckled a bit, like it was just another 'harmless' game. satoru glanced at you.

pretty.

you and miwa made your way to the exit after the little make-out session with her now new boyfriend. she kept squealing about how she couldn't believe she finally got together with him. you were incredibly happy for the both of them.

"he kissed me! like he actually kissed me! I thought I was going to pass out!"

satoru debated, standing still for a moment. you were a step away from leaving, your arm wrapped around your friends, chattering about whatever. part of him wanted to plan this through, something smoother than just..

"fuck it." he mumbled.

his legs moved before his brain ordered them to. "hey-" he called out, jogging a bit to fully reach you. you turned slowly, miwa did too with her eyebrows furrowed. he realized that maybe this wasn't the best option. his lips parted a bit before continuing.

"uh.." he scratched the back of his neck. "you dropped something."

you stared at him in confusion. "no I didn't.." you looked down to confirm that you in fact, didn't drop any item.

"right uhm, that was supposed to be my opening line" he cursed at himself, but it made you chuckle. satoru was dorky, you thought. he had an uneven smile before he looked back at you.

"im satoru"

"I know" you felt like everyone in this damn school knew who he was. "oh im y/n." you quickly introduced yourself after the small pause. for some reason, satoru didn't feel like this was the beginning of a bet he agreed to, but a beginning for something he wasn't ready for.

"go out with me."

miwa snapped her head so fast towards you, you could have sworn you heard a crack. you blinked at satoru, unsure if you heard him right.

"what?"

"go out with me, please." he repeated confident just like the first time. you weren't entirely convinced. "is this a joke?" satoru froze. of course this was a joke. he always played around with random girls so why did it make him feel guilty this time.

"no. I want you, pretty." he smiled softly, showing off his pearly whites that could have any girl soaking her panties in under 10 seconds.

you could feel miwa vibrating next to you, begging you to say yes, or at least something. "I think i'll pass." you mumbled, not unkindly just firm enough to make your point, staring at him for a bit before turning your heel to leave with miwa who now had a disappointed look on her face.

"whyyy?" she whined.

a grunt left satoru's lips. "I can take you out somewhere, anywhere! real nice places sweetheart!"

"like the 7/11 in broadway?" you shot back. he froze before chuckling a genuine laugh, shaking his head. "even better!"

the corner of your lips tugged up a smile as you giggled with miwa at his advances as you both left.

"well look at you missy, pulling mr captain of the hockey team."

"im just that good." you continued to hold your smile, not letting it drop.

and neither did he.

every night at eight, you'd have a video call with your family, just to make sure everything was alright back at home.

"he had an appointment today." yuji said while he was washing the dirty plates, handing them to matt to dry. you used to always put the dishes away back to their original places, but you were no longer there to do your job and that hurt you a bit.

it stung seeing how they had to adapt to live without you and you recalled how you all had to do the same when your mother left. you watched how matt didn't hand it to anyone, he just placed them down.

"and the results?" you asked, your voice quiet and steady but ready for any news you didn't want to hear. not yet.

"not out yet, but im sure nothing has changed since last time he got checked up."

yuji turned off the sink, handing the smaller kid the last dish before drying his hands with a towel. "how's yale treating you? saw the picture you sent."

you hummed looking back at how the day went. "it's going great I guess. our school won the game by the way, oh and a boy wants to take me out."

"you agreed?" yuji has always been the overprotective type, despite you being older.

you answered by shaking your head. "no, he's sketchy."

"how come?" now he was completely alert. a boy is hitting on his sister hundreds of miles away from home? not on his watch. you shrugged.

"he has a whole fangirl club or something."

matts voice could be heard from afar. "he's a red flag!" his words made you chuckle. "you been teaching him new vocabulary?"

yuji rolled his eyes. "its the kids at his school. but seriously, trust your gut. if you don't feel like something is right about that gut, don't take his offer."

you nodded, pressing the sleeve of your sweater up to your nose taking in the scent of old memories. it hasnt been washed since you left home and that nostalgic smell lingered.

one that you desperately wanted to go back to.

satoru could've sworn he left dissecting frogs back in high school, but here he was again, poking around at the laid back amphibians internal organs. "no way am I doing this shit." with a mutter, he placed the tweezers down gagging, shaking his hands in disgust before pulling out his cigarette box, sliding one out placing it in between his pretty pink lips, far too pretty for a man. "smoking in class? you'll set the smoke alarm off." suguru scooted closer to his friend.

"better than doing a bbl on a frog." satoru grumbled, looking away not being able to stare at the gross mess that was right in front of him. "that girl from yesterday.." he narrowed his eyes in thought, trying to remember your name. "y/n" he mumbled after it finally reached him.

"she didn't want to go out with me." he continued. the black haired boy scoffed, not comprehending the words that were coming out of the school's playboy. " you're satoru fucking gojo, this should be easy as hell for you!"

"look man, I dont do this shit anymore."

suguru rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he looked at the frog's corpse. "I'll pay you." satoru grunted bringing the lighter up to his cigarette, huffing it slowly before blowing it towards suguru, in which he looked down at the smoking boy unimpressed.

"I have enough money, I don't need your pocket change."

suguru paused in deep thought. "you're right, heard she's only into pretty guys anyways." satoru brought a hand up to his chest as if he was truly hurt, because he was.

“are you telling me im not a pretty guy?” he took out the cigarette from his mouth, before crushing it down against the table, which left a nasty dent on the cheap laminate. "why do you want me to play with her?"

suguru brought his pierced tongue out to lick his dry lips. "I guess I just miss the old you. seriously satoru, I'll pay you. 300 bucks if you take her out on a date," he scooted closer to his friend. "500 if you get in her panties. and 1000 if you manage to make her your date to hoco."

as if divine intervention occurred, the door creaked open, pausing the chatter between the two boys. there you were. wearing a well put together outfit that just made satoru's hormones run crazy, as you made your way to your desk. the sight of you made gojo straighten his posture suddenly hyper aware of every detail of himself. quickly running a hand through his hair and gulping, his adams apple bobbing.

he turned to look at suguru who was already giving him a pointed look.

"bet."

another thing that you like about yale's campus is that its not too far away from shopping areas. you found a nearby barnes and noble not even a few blocks away from the school. it soon became your go to stop where you would buy books and cd's. you weren't able to fit any of your beloved music or novels when you were packing, so you started a new collection that was placed neatly back at your dorm.

you entered, the bell placed on top of the door notifying any workers of your entrance quickly making your way to the music disc section, straight shelves full of cd's. you're surprised to see many new arrivals.

some were year old music, and some were rare old ones from the 2000's. you reached out to grab a few, a soft smile plastered on your face as you scanned the labels. so deep into it, you didn't notice the bell chiming again.

'debut' by bjork was being held by your hand right now, having an inner battle with yourself whether to be financially responsible for today. you placed the cd back when you remembered that the hospital bill from your fathers last visit would soon come back. and you were not looking forward to seeing the multiple zeros behind whatever number was in front of it.

"excuse me, have you seen any cd of bjork?" the smooth voice behind you asked. "oh yeah-" you answered, turning to look back at the voice.

halfway through your sentence, you took a good look at who was behind you. satoru. "oh, it's you." your eyes narrowed as they focused on him. the boy slid his glasses on the crown of his head. you didn't know he even wore those. satoru seemed to have noticed your observation.

"lost my contacts."

"are you stalking me?" you asked defensively which just made him laugh. his body got closer to yours as he skimmed through the cd's.

"you not getting that bjork one?" he asked tilting his head as his long pale fingers slid the music disc right out of its place. the plastic creaked the second he held it.

"uh its a bit expensive.." the words came out in a mumble, almost embarrassed to admit you couldn't afford a fifty dollar cd. you shifted your weight onto your right leg, looking anywhere but him.

he looked at you before looking down at the case. "guess I'll get it."

you blinked. "didn't know you liked her."

"I dont. but I like you, so I'll get it for you, baby. anything else you want?"

you head snapped towards him, watching how he didn't even let you answer as he placed the bjork case that contained the disc you've been wanting for a while into a shopping basket. you were so shocked you didn't even realize the term of endearment.

"its fifty.." you reminded him.

"be a sweetheart and dont mention the prices, I dont care one bit about it." your eyes dropped to the basket, lips parting to say anything but nothing came out. nothing but a, "can I get the post one..?"

you couldn't find how much one has ever spent at barnes and nobles, but you were pretty sure you may have broken whatever record there was. satoru didn't mind, just like he said.

when the cashier asked how he'd like his receipt he declined it. when he saw the total on the screen in bold green letters, he ignored it. and when he handed you the bags full of books, cd's, and figures, some that you didn't even ask for. he just noticed you staring at them for a little too long and he'd just grab it and place it in the basket, he had a smile plastered right on those pink lips.

"I think I deserve a kiss for all of this.."

its the least you could do, right? besides he didn't tell you where he wanted the kiss. so you stepped up on your tippy toes a bit to place your lips on his cheek.

"thank you. seriously thank you." his smirk softened to a smile, returning the kiss but on your forehead making your breathing stutter.

"any time," he mumbled kissing your nose before backing up. "oh here, give me your phone"

your hand pulls out your phone from your back pocket, handing it to him. "what for?"

"im putting my number in.." his fingers typed quickly, the dumb smirk on his face not leaving, before slipping it back into your hands.

'my sugar daddy'

you visibly cringed at the name he chose. "you've got to be kidding me." you said with pure disbelief. he nodded, proud of his decision. "I did buy you all this didn't I?" he tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear, leaning down to whisper into it.

"ill send you a picture to set up as my contact photo. perhaps a nude?"

"perhaps not."

miwa's eyes widened when she saw you stumble into the shared dorm with heavy bags on each hand. "woah.. didn't know it was black friday." she half joked, getting up from her bed to help you out. you exhaled in relief when the weight was taken from your poor limp arms. "and I didn't pay a single penny."

she averted her gaze from the bags up to you. "who did pay for them? your sugar daddy?" your face burned at that damn name. "you're not wrong. it was satoru." you held up your phone, opening this contact name you knew would have miwa laughing.

she squinted, looking at it before she burst into giggles.

"hes so extra." you set the bags down on the desk, taking one thing out at a time. miwa wiped the tears that spilled from her eyes. "how'd this happen?"

you dragged a hand down your face, shrugging. "he saw me at the store and offered to buy me whatever. but I swear I didn't ask for all of this."

"he likes you."

you paused for a second. "does he now?"

it was a dumb question. who else would buy a random person they have no interest in hundreds of dollars worth of barnes and noble? no one, except him of course.

you retold the same ridiculous events to yuji, who still wasn't pleased at the idea of you getting hit on not even a month into school. his arms were crossed over his chest as he was lazily sitting on his desk chair, same as you.

"return everything."

you scoffed. "no way! even if I did I wouldn't be able to, he didn't ask for a receipt."

"he shouldn't be buying you shit. didn't you tell me yesterday how your gut was telling you something was off?"you moved from your desk to your bed, sighing as your back hit the mattress. "well maybe I was wrong about him."

satoru felt proud of being able to treat you like a princess, buying you all sorts of things, showering you with everything you wanted. he remembered how you hesitated on buying that cd. it bothered him a bit.

'did she have a problem with money?'

his phone rang with a message from suguru.

'party tonight at the frat, you coming?"

of course he was, he hasn't missed a single function since he joined yale. his fingers typed out, "Omw!" but before he could send it, he stopped, and then deleted it. why was he thinking about you right now?

why is he declining a party?

"im not in the mood tonight."

he stared at the screen for a moment, realizing that he actually sent that. a calloused hand rubbed his cheekbone, exhaling before he received another notification, this time not from any of his friends but from spotify.

'the marias are performing near you! click to see ticket prices and shows available!'

the marias? where had he heard that name.. his mind instantly flashed to you. you were holding the marias disc, the one he bought you along with all the other cd's. it was as if his body was moving without him knowing because a second later, he was buying two tickets.

your first day was an unconfirmed barnes and noble date. but your second day, the concert, would be an actual date.

he clicked the 'pay now' button without hesitation.

you weren't expecting to see a screen showing the digital receipts slip right into your line of sight while you were halfway through placing some textbooks in your locker. the bold blue letters read, 'THE MARIAS'

"hi pretty.. got these for you and me." your eyes widened at the familiar voice. the white haired individual really had a habit of sneaking up behind you didn't he? "you.. you got-" you stammered, blinking at the sight of the tickets, then back at him.

"got these for you and me." he repeated himself, both his voice and gaze softening. not sure to be flattered or continue being suspicious, you slowly reached for his phone, taking it from his pale hand to make sure what you were seeing was real.

not only did he buy you both tickets to a music artist you liked, but he also got the best seats. "you got the marias tickets.." you said mostly to yourself. his smirk was still there, but it showed no sign of being cocky.

"mhm, thought you'd like it."

"satoru.. you already spent so much on me yesterday.." how come a boy you barely knew was dropping a thousand on you each day. "I told you I like you. this can be our first date." he gently grabbed back his phone.

you swallowed, your mind trying to wrap itself around the unexpected layers of satoru you’d been seeing over the last few days. and you wondered if you were the first one to see this version of him.

"one date." you said firmly as you lifted up your finger, finally agreeing to his advances. his charm was different.. it was bold, yes, but real. "don't push your luck, im only accepting because its bjork."

"there will be more than one date, pretty." there was short pauses between his words allowing each syllable to sink in. like he meant it.

you had no idea why you were allowing him to score another point at this game he was forcing you to play. "at least let me pay for the gas.. or for the food." you offered but satoru only scrunched his face up shaking his head.

"don't do that."

he had some extra cash on him. 300. just like suguru promised when he said he'd pay satoru 300 if he managed to take you out on a date.

"just wear something pretty for me, and easy to remove."

you rolled your eyes. "im not sure about that second part, you're pushing your luck here sir."

"mm no not sir baby, its sugar dadd-"

your hand shot out to cover his mouth, cutting him off before he even had the chance to finish. he was shocked for a bit before he licked a long stripe against your hand moaning.

you recoiled immediately, gagging with a mix of shock and disgust. he chuckled at your discomfort and the sight of you wiping your hand on his chest.

"you like that baby?"

"no!" you shot back, closing your locker before rushing to the bathroom to properly clean your hand.

"ill see you later my love!" he called out.

miwa helped you get ready for the concert date after school. she straightened your hair pin straight while you both talked about what could happen later. your phone vibrated with a notification from 'sugar daddy'

"you still wearing something easy to remove right?"

you stared at the message. any past thoughts of him not being that bad quickly vanished. obviously, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of your reply, so you left him on read. guess that hurt his feelings because a few minutes later he texted again.

"im joking baby :("

"still haven't changed that contact name?" miwa asked, finishing up the last strand for the final section. you grumbled a little 'shut it'

"im kind of nervous.." you admitted. this was going to be your first date after all.

miwa stopped, her hands hovering in mid air, before she turned your chair to face each other. her expression softened, a mix of understanding and excitement. "hey, it’s okay to be nervous. besides you kind of already know him.."

"briefly." you couldn't help but sigh, your eyes following her figure as she chose an outfit from her side of the closet to lend you.

"he wanted something easy to remove right?"

"dont."

you both met up to where you agreed, which was just outside the girls dormitories. the second he saw you, his heart fluttered.

you looked, no, you are gorgeous.

"...hey" a smile crept up on his face. he was dressed casual while you went all out thanks to miwa.

"hi" you smiled softly.

"you're so beautiful.." you'd be lying if you said you weren't flustered. even if you tried lying, the dark tint of pink on your cheeks would say otherwise. "thank you"

with a chuckle, he led you to his car. a model of the year, typical for a rich ass boy like him. being the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger door for you before closing it as you settled yourself down.

he made his way over to the drivers seat. "can't believe I finally landed a date with you" he mumbled before reaching over to hold your hand in his.

why was he acting like this? it was just a bet.. right?

you stared down at your hands that were now intertwined. you'd expect his to be cold from how pale they were and the amount of time he spends playing hockey in the cold rink.

your eyes lifted to his face, he was focused on the road now, a quiet little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, like just having you next to him was enough.

"im going to be honest, i don't know any of this bands songs."

your breath caught in your throat. "you bought the tickets without knowing how they were?"

he shook his head. "I bought the tickets because I knew you knew who they were." his hand squeezed yours, keeping his eyes on the road. "have I told you how absolutely sexy you are? I mean look at this.." his hand moved from yours to tug at your skirt, making you gasp.

"feel good, baby?" he continued squeezing your thigh, biting his lower lip as he felt the warmth of your skin.

he slapped it playfully, moving his hand onto the steering wheel leaving you flustered.

"pervert.."

the concert was beautiful. the music reached your heart it made you tear up, of course some songs hit close to home. gojo couldn't help but admire you from time to time. watching as your pretty mouth sang along to the unknown lyrics.

"lets take a picture pretty." he said out of nowhere. "a picture?" he nodded before pulling out his phone, wrapping his arm around your waist and pressing his cheek against yours, snapping a few pictures of you and him throughout the night, mostly of you. you did the same, filling up your gallery with endless pictures and videos.

he pressed his lips on your temple before pulling away to continue enjoying the performance.

as the night came to an end, he drove you safely back home, both of you discussing the songs you enjoyed being performed the most.

"I think I enjoyed back to me the most"

"no way! paranoia was clearly the most enjoyable."

he rolled his eyes. "yeah well I think what I enjoyed the most was seeing you sing. you're gorgeous baby."

"you already told me that like twenty times."

"and ill continue to tell you for the rest of my life and beyond that." his words made your stomach twist. not in a bad way. definitely not. you watched how the dim light lit up his face making him look even more handsome than he already was.

"want to go to the ice rink?" he asked.

'right now? I dont think im wearing the appropriate clothing for skating.."

satoru grinned, pulling up to the building where the arena was in. "good thing I came prepared then." he reached towards the backseat, pulling out a duffel bag.

"you can thank your friend miwa."

you stared down at the clothes, which belonged to you, now on your lap. light pink thighs and a sweater as well as leg warmers. "you guys planned this?"

"she helped me out. I wanted to make this the best first date."

it was late, so the place was quieter than usual, dimly lit, making the place peaceful. the cold air nipped at your cheeks as you both stepped inside, and you tried your best not to show how nervous you were.

"ive never skated before." you admit.

"good thing your man is a hockey player." he finished tying up his laces before getting down on one knee to tie yours. he said it so casually. 'your man'

satoru looked up at you all while he continued fumbling around with the laces on your skates. "I really hope we have that romcom moment where you slip on the ice and fall right into my arms."

"what type of movies are you watching?" you giggled, feeling the heat creep up to your neck.

he finished the second skate, placing it on the ground before gripping your thighs. "like I said.. romcoms." he murmured, bringing you closer to his face. he darted his tongue out to lick the inside of your thigh.

a gasp left your lips. "h-hey.."

he didn't stop there.

he was starved. his lips traveled all throughout your inner thighs, nipping once in a while. "pretty.."

a shaky hand pushed his head away, watching as a string of saliva connected his lips with you. "so uhm.. you gonna teach me how to skate..?"

the fog of tension shattered the moment you placed your hand on his forehead, pushing him away. he licked his lips before chuckling. "yeah, come on."

the second you stepped onto the ice, you were already struggling. it was more slippery than you'd expect it to be, but satoru's large hands, placed on your waist, kept you steady.

"lean on me."

you held onto his arms, following his step wobbling once in a while.

"I got you doll."

twenty minutes was all you needed to learn how to maintain your balance on the ice. you excitedly followed satoru, holding his hand as you both made rounds around the rink, your skates gliding smoothly. he glanced at you, smiling as he watched you. "look at you... natural born skater" just as he said that, you bumped into his shoulder.

"natural born liar."

he chuckled seeing how your eyes showed signs of being tired. he wrapped his hands around your waist, lifting you up with ease. "lets get you out of here. kind of sad we didn't have that cute moment."

"what cute moment?" you wrapped your arms around him before he placed you down the carpet when he got you both out the ice rink. "the one where you fall right into my arms and we kiss."

you rolled your eyes. "maybe next time."

he raised an eyebrow, kneeling down again to take off your shoes. "so is that a confirmation that we will have another date?"

"mhm." you hummed quietly and before you knew it, you were leaning into a kiss with no control over your body, like it was possessed by a curse or something.

he hesitated for a second, deciding not to kiss you back. it was just a bet.

"lets go."

you stared at him in hurt and betrayal. this is what he wanted wasn't it? you felt your heart sink deeper as the seconds passed. you didn't allow him to put your shoes on, doing it yourself instead.

"baby.."

"dont." your voice wasn't firm, it was soft. barely even a whisper to be honest. "you're just messing with me aren't you?" he looked startled, like he had gotten caught with his hand down the cookie jar, because he did.

"no..no you're not something to play around with."

you were mad. furious even. "feels like it."

opening the door after gathering your clothes, you left without a goodnight. or a kiss. once you were out of view, satoru dragged his hands down his face groaning. he's grown attached to you without knowing it in the span of three days. and he's hurt you by denying your kiss.

he rushed after you.

"let me walk you."

"its fine. my dorm isn't that far."

"damn it y/n." he pressed his lips against yours, cupping your jaw. the kiss was full of frustration and it was desperate. his other hand found your hip, bringing you closer to him. he wanted to deepen the kiss, but he noticed you weren't kissing back.

he pulled away before smashing his lips against yours again, hoping that you'd kiss back this time but you didn't.

"I'll see you later.." you mumbled out.

he watched you walk away quickly in the direction of your dorm. now it was his heart who was sinking. he didn't remember any of his last 'bets' hurting this much.

so why does it feel like you were ripping out his heart right now?

when you reached your dorm, ready to get any call from your brothers, you already planned not to mention anything. not the concert date with satoru and definitely not how yuji was right about him. you couldn't let him have that 'I told you so' moment.

your phone vibrated at the back of your pocket as soon as you dropped your bag onto the floor. miwa was staying over at her boyfriends tonight, giving you and satoru any privacy if things went to a more heated direction.

it did. sorta.

with a sigh, you slid your thumb across the screen, answering the call from yuji.

"took you a while."

you forced a laugh. "sorry, you woke me up." you allowed your body to rest, flopping down on your messy bed with a 'thump', the back of your head sinking into the pillows.

"I'm just calling you to let you know that a hospital bill might reach you."

you quirked an eyebrow, staring at the ceiling. "its going to be sent out to me? all the way to yale?" yuji let out a small 'mhm', casual like he was commenting on the weather.

"yeah, from dad's last check up."

"oh," you rubbed your face, feeling a different kind of tired. "thats right."

"its just from his prescriptions and shit.. I would've paid it myself but.." his voice trailed off.

"no, no dont worry about it. not like i'm already drowning in student loans or whatever"

"of course not." you could hear him chuckle from the other side of the phone.

after the call ended, you let the silence settle. you received your mail usually by the end of the week in your small issued mailbox that was located in the front of the school. most of the time it was just flyers for clubs you had no intention of joining. but soon, a hospital bill that you desperately wanted to leave behind home, where it belongs, will appear right inside the small box.

after dreading to see the ridiculous amount you had to pay for oral chemotherapy medication, your mind circled back to satoru, a finger brushed against your lips, reliving the moment he placed his against yours in a kiss you wanted to return, but didn't.

you felt like it wasn't real.

why would he hesitate in the first place? your hand dropped back down against the mattress, gripping the bed sheets to brace yourself from any tears that might come out.

miwa dragged you to watch kokichi practice in the ice rink. the memories from last night hit you like a wave every other minute you sat on the bleachers. the same spot you were rejected.

you were annoyed.

no. pissed. pissed at how he dodged your kiss like it meant nothing and honestly you have every right to be. because why is he hesitant to kiss you when he’s the one that was so desperate. is this some sort of sick joke?

you didn't want to mention it to miwa or anyone. you were too embarrassed and the poor girl was happy she even had the opportunity to help out satoru with last nights date. you couldn't take that away from her. when she asked how it went you spared the details and just gave a brief summary.

"it was fun, he took me to the concert, we sang. then the ice rink, thanks by the way, and he taught me how to skate."

"thats so cute!" her face lit up.

you both continued to see the hockey players glide across the arena. but someone was missing. number 10. your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a microphone starting.

“can't take my eyes of off you..” a voice murmured into the microphone, a voice you instantly recognized. satoru. you blinked once. and then again-unsure if you were hearing correctly or if the loud ass volume you listen to your music in was finally catching up to you.

you squinted your eyes to see the white haired boy stand right in the middle of the rink, the whole team joining him as well. his body stepped forward, then another, until he broke into a dance. you let out a few chuckles of disbelief as you watched him make a fool of himself.

“i love you baby!” you wanted to crawl into a corner and die from embarrassment. “and if it’s quite alright, i need you baby..” his finger pointed right at you. a few people around you chuckled as well, one yelling, "go verona!"

you brought your hands up to you face covering it in embarrassment as a flush appeared. he was so off key now, yelling out the lyrics as he did little tricks around the ice, nearly slipping but catching himself with a dramatic spin. he made a bee line towards the top of the bleachers. you wanted to escape but he was quick, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“oh pretty baby..” he panted as the chorus died down. he placed the microphone down, grabbing your cheeks without a warning with both hands planting a long and sweet kiss on your plump lips. this time, you kissed back without hesitation from either of you.

"satoru.." you managed to say before he continued his desperate kisses, sliding his tongue into your mouth leaving no room for the words that were swirling in your head. miwa was ecstatic, clapping with others, who were surprised that the ex-playboy was acting straight out of a 2000's movie.

"shut up.. let me just kiss you." his fingers threaded through your hair.

and kisses continued all the way to his dorm, no sign of stopping any time soon as he pushed you down his bed.

"im sorry about yesterday.. let me make it up to you."

"I think you did already with your little performance."

he chuckled, shaking his head. "nah, you need more than a song."

satoru wears everything on his face. like everything. you could tell what he was feeling with just a glimpse at his blushed face that turned from his usual pale color to a deep red. his mouth was open when he sank into you.

he smirked when he watched you struggle to take him. the small moans you let out made him twitch. "you look so fucking good. taking my cock like this." he wrapped your legs around his bare waist before his large hand found your neck, wrapping lightly around it.

"sa..satoru.." you whimpered.

"mmf- yeah that feels good. so.. tight and wet f'me. should've done this yesterday." he rolled his hips against yours gently. satoru has never been this gentle during sex towards anyone. he slid in and out of you slowly, making sure you felt every single one of his veins.

"oh fuck.. not going to last long inside this warm fucking pussy."

he licked your lips before shoving his tongue down your throat. satoru pulled away, forcing your jaw to open to spit right into your mouth.

"swallow."

you obeyed, swallowing his shared spit, opening your mouth to show him.

"good girl."

you screamed, gripping his shoulders when he slipped almost all the way out before slamming all the way in. he was loving this, almost forgetting the amount of money he would receive for getting into your panties.

it wasn't until you both finished, and his arms were wrapped around you in a comfortable position to cuddle, placing loving kisses on your forehead, that he finally remembered that this was all a bet. was.

he was scared that maybe he didn't want this to be just a game. his breath stilled, his fingers still tracing random shapes on your back as he pulled back slightly, taking a close look at your peaceful expression.

he didn't want it to end.

he took a look at his calendar that was placed on his nightstand. he counted the days knowing he didn't have that much left with you.

"love?"

you hummed, opening your eyes, your expression soft, when he called out to you.

"i'm playing tomorrow.. then we're having a sort of 'hoco' type of thing at the frat.. come with me?"

you nodded, placing your head on his chest listening to the way his heart beat at a steady pace. "course.." you murmured, he did tire you out after all. his body relaxed at your answer. there were still so many things left unsaid, so much you both needed to figure out. but he was okay with just having you this close to him right now.

you didn't call your family that night. your phone was put on do not disturb, laying on top of the nightstand. satoru's arms were still wrapped tightly around you.

but across the country, yuji grew worried, because not only were hospital bills going to reach you, but terrible news as well.

he paced back and forth outside the hospital room, the one where your father was currently staying, checking his phone every second to see if you have seen his messages or calls.

nothing from you.

he tried to come up with a reason. you were probably studying, or just busy in general. he wanted to cry because the feeling of being the one now responsible for everything was finally sinking in. he didn't know why your father collapsed. he didn't know if your aunt was on her way to pick up matt from school. and he didn't know when the hell you would answer your phone.

"answer.. please." he prayed.

the next day when you woke up to the sound of shuffling, you were met with several forehead kisses.

"sorry baby, have to go straight to the rink." your eyes fluttered open slowly, eyes adjusting to the morning light. you remembered the game today, and the party as well.

"practice hard.." your morning voice came out groggy, in which he let out a soft laugh.

"ill see you later baby." with that he left.

you looked around, still groggy, seeing the clock on his wall. eleven o clock.

your eyes widened. shit. you were late for class. you threw the blanket off of you, quickly putting on the same clothes from yesterday. when you reached for your panties, you noticed they were ripped. the sudden pain you felt on your stomach was a reminder of your poor decisions from last night.

you slipped on your skirt, praying you wouldn't flash anyone by the time you got to your dorm. after grabbing your bag, you reached for your phone before bolting out of his room.

when you made your way to class, you felt a deep feeling in your gut telling you, no, yelling, that something wasn't okay.

the cold air of the rink hit you the moment you stepped through the doors, crisp and biting against your skin. the faint sound of blades carving across ice echoed through the space, mixed with low shouts and the occasional laughter of teammates mid practice.

miwa was buzzing beside you, excited to see her boyfriend play, and for the party he asked her out to. you caught sight of satoru not that far away talking with a boy with gauges.

"I'll be back: you said to her.

"okay! I'll go grab us some seats then!"

you watched as the blue haired girl quickly made her way up the bleachers, snatching a good spot for the both of you. you approached satoru, ready to scare him as you snuck behind him.

"dude, I'm telling you I fucked her already, pay up." he grumbled.

your entire world stopped for a second. were you hearing correctly? the other boy laughed. "thought you didn't want to take this bet?" his hand reached for his pocket, pulling out his wallet to slip out a few hundred dollar bills.

it all suddenly clicked.

"it's whatever. honestly, she's everything i've wanted in a girl." the boy you thought you could trust accepted the bills into his hand. how could you have thought that this actually meant something. that you actually meant something to satoru.

"are you fucking kidding me?" you stared at him, feeling so many emotions all at once. anger, betrayal, and even denial. your mind was processing what you just heard. you wanted to hear it wasn't real, that he wasn't only after you because of a bet and that he actually likes you. but you knew you were better than that, you couldn't help but connect all the dots. the way he just randomly went up to you? the way he spent so much money on you?

it wasn't fate. it was orchestrated. and you felt stupid for now realizing.

there was horror written all over gojos face. "no baby.. baby listen to me." but you refused, shaking your head. you refused because the following words were going to be the confirmation that you dreaded to hear. without another word, you turned away pushing though the crowd. "y/n!" he shouted, but you didn't turn back. as you made your way down the hall, his hand wrapped around your wrist, "please, PLEASE listen to me!" in which you yanked back.

"it was all a bet huh? and for what? I knew I shouldn't have trusted yo-" you were interrupted by his lips molding against yours. no matter how much you wanted to melt into it, you didn't. your hands landed on his chest, pushing him off you before wiping your lips. the boy stood there, stunned, as his sad blue eyes watched you walk out.

how could he do this to you? after you accepted his dates. after you let him use your body for pleasure. after everything?you felt horrible for leaving miwa alone, but you didn't want to ruin her day. her boyfriend was playing hockey, with satoru.

it was when you pulled out your phone, ready to block him, when you saw the several missed calls from yuji and from your fathers doctor. your heart sank even more. you quickly found a secluded spot.

satoru wanted to follow after you, desperate to fix things. but he couldn't, not with a game he needed to play. but in all honesty he was done playing.

yuji was screaming at you through the phone. his voice was raw. one you haven't heard in years.

"I called you twenty fucking times y/n! all of last night, where the hell were you?!"

you were hyperventilating. the situation sinking in, the one with gojo and the one where your dad was on the brink of death. "with.. with this guy.."

silence.

"with a guy?" he spat. “you were with some guy while dad was- y/n, he’s in critical condition. they had to resuscitate him last night. and im over here wondering that something important was going on with you only to find out you were busy sucking some guy off. was it the guy you told me about?"

"..yeah..but it didn't end well."

"I dont fucking care about that right now. honestly im glad, let this be a lesson. we thought we were gonna lose him. and you were out playing house with some asshole?”

you didn't answer, too busy trying to even breathe. "im sorry... im sorry." yuji didn’t respond right away.

"i already paid half of the shit," his sharp voice continued. "if you could send some money over that would be great. and those bills, have you paid them yet?"

you swallowed hard, tears stinging the backs of your eyes. “o, I… I haven’t had time, yuji,”

“you haven’t had time?” he repeated like the words physically hurt him. there was a long pause. when Yuji spoke again, his voice had softened.

".. just please pay his medication.. my job isn't paying that well."

"I will.." you said quietly. "where is matt?"

"he's with aunt teresa. i'll call you if anything happens again, please answer next time."

you sniffled, wiping your runny nose. "okay. I love you."

click.

the call ended with him not saying those words back. you still had your phone up to your ear, wishing that magically yuji would say it back.

you felt so unwanted

unloved.

you could feel your eyes stinging even more and your throat closing up on you. you felt like you were losing everyone, your father slipping away in a hospital bed miles from here, your brother who had always been your anchor, your voice of reason, now too exhausted to carry you, and satoru.

satoru.

that night your phone was blowing up. call after call, text after text- all from him.

satoru : y/n please.

satoru : call me, return my calls lets talk pretty.

satoru : it was a bet, but believe me when I tell you that I truly love you.

satoru : I love you. say it back baby. please I need you. can't lose you, im sorry love please don't leave..

you remembered when you planned to block him before the call with yuji, your finger hovered over the red block button. but you simply put your phone on dnd and headed to sleep recalling the horrible events of tonight. tear stains were placed on your cheeks, mascara ruined, just like how your life felt.

miwa had tried, she really did. she tried her best to comfort you, but she understood you needed space. the sweet girl provided you with extra blankets as well as water, she even rubbed off the remaining makeup on you.

satoru hasn't felt this horrible since he accidentally flushed down his sisters goldfish back in first grade. but it wasn't the same.

the goldfish didn't hate him. you did.

and he hated himself for how he made you feel. he hated himself for doing this to you. but god was he grateful to have taken on that bet. not for the money, but for you. because of the bet, he met such a wonderful girl who he was completely smitten for. too bad that the girl now hates his guts.

the weather matched how gojo felt. he looked like hell.

his usual outfits was replaced by a simple white t-shirt with sweatpants. the confident boy was now just a regular burnt out college student who looks like he missed out on eight hours of sleep to study for his physics final. he hasn't eaten since yesterday, deciding his body didn't deserve to be rewarded with food.

he made his way to the small mailroom provided for students. his face lit up when he saw you there, not looking so good like him.

"baby."

his voice startled you, making you drop your mail, watching as they scattered all throughout the tile floor.

you crouched down to gather your mail, avoiding his eyes, heart pounding in your chest from too many things at once, his voice, your brother’s call, the reminder of your father, the unbearable guilt, and now him standing here, looking like someone you didn’t know how to love right now.

satoru knelt beside you, brushing your fingers by accident as he helped you collect the envelopes. the moment your skin touched, a sharp breath escaped his lips.

thats when saw it. a bunch of letters from kaiser permamente.

"what's this..?"

you froze, hand curling tighter around the envelope like you could hide it, like you could make it disappear if you just willed it hard enough. but he had already seen.

you stood quickly, clutching the papers to your chest. “it’s nothing.”

“sweetheart…” His tone shifted, serious now. “that’s a hospital.”

"i know, i can read." you shot back.

satoru rose to his feet slowly, eyes still locked on you, his earlier exhaustion now sharpened with concern. “y/n?” His voice cracked. “is everything okay?”

you didn't know how it came to this. but you were hugging him tightly, crying into his chest like he wasn't part of the reason why you were going through it.

.

.

.

[redwinelewis]

LIKE A MERCEDES | LH44

type social media au

pairing lewis hamilton x chinese!reader

face claim lexie liu

song like a mercedes by lexie liu

summary in which lewis' singer girlfriend is part of the f1 the movie soundtrack

warnings none i think idk

author's note super short one bcs i've been wanting to write a smau with this song and lewis ❤️

english is not my first language. all pictures taken from instagram, pinterest and twitter. credit to owners.

masterlist

INSTAGRAM!

f1 and 5 others

liked by lewishamilton, roses_are_rosie and 1,836,938 others

f1 Here's the lineup for F1: The Movie soundtrack with a special track from two more mysterious acts 🏎️ Available June 27.

#F1 #F1TheAlbum

view all 2,728 comments

user TATE????

user user ln4 x t8 agenda continues to spread we love to see it

user DOJA?? ROSÉ???? TATE???????

user who are these people

user the way i only recognize like 2 of these singers

user MADISON BEER OMFG

user wait mysterious acts?

user LEWIS LIKED

user user everyday i manifest for an xnda comeback

user i wonder if lewis produces the soundtrack as well

user user dear god pls

yourinstagram

📍 Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

liked by dprian, kikagomes and 3,836,899 others

yourinstagram do me, you don’t have to do me properly

view all 4,726 comments

user RARE LEWIS SIGHTING ON Y/N'S POST

user okay freaky

user HIS BACK 🫦

yourinstagram user behave

user y/n feed your children we're starving for a new album

user i love how she brags about her bf

user user i mean it's sir lewis hamilton. i would do the same.

user user real

user third pic is so bf lewis coded

user THE DRESS OMFG

user sir lewis can u fight

flavy.barla that dress 😍😍

lewishamilton

📍 Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

liked by charles_leclerc, francolapinto and 2,826,314 others

lewishamilton 與你一路飛馳緊握著方向盤

view all 1,026 comments

user ok what is up with the caption

user user a vacation in brazil and he wrote the caption in mandarin he's so random 😭😭

user user i mean his gf is chinese right

user can someone tell me what the caption means the translate button isn't working

user user "Feeling like going on a joyride with you through the night" something like that

user user .... is this a lyric?

yourinstagram not fair!!!! that's my favourite part!!!!

yourinstagram yourinstagram and i told you not to post the fourth pic lew!!!!

lewishamilton yourinstagram You used my favourite part as well. And I love that photo

user yourinstagram lewishamilton HELLO WHAT'S GOING ON??????

user yourinstagram lewishamilton are yall teasing us a new single with those captions? 🤨

yourinstagram user no (yes)

user yourinstagram AHSKSHSHSJSKSH WHAT

yourinstagram

liked by jacksonwang852g7, lilymhe and 2,733,927 others

yourinstagram but you already know what i'm about to say 👀 LIKE A MERCEDES, my new single from F1: The Movie soundtrack featuring the one and only xnda is out now 🏎️

i have always admired lewis, on and off track. he is as passionate about music as he is about racing and making this song with him has been such an amazing experience. i hope you all love this song as much as we had fun making it ❤️

view all 3,570 comments

user OH I FUCKING KNEW IT

user FEATURING LEWIS??????

user XNDA IS BACKKKKKK

user is this a dream can somebody pinch me rn

user a new xnda song in the year of our lord 2025

user user "thank you y/n" we all say in unison

user this is everything to me btw

user this song is gonna be the only good thing from that fuck ass film

georgerussell63 Hell yeah! Let's go! 🙌🏻🔥

yourinstagram georgerussell63 thank you george! ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux song of the year ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

yourinstagram alexandrasaintmleux i love you ❤️❤️

tatemcrae a bop

lewishamilton and xnda

liked by yourinstagram, f1 and 7,836,644 others

lewishamilton Say less

view all 6,836 comments

user KMS POSTPONED

user whoremilton is back

user user we cheer

user i'm still processing the lyrics

user user this feels like "pipe" all over again

user his gf is so lucky 💔

user user thank you

yourinstagram user 🤨🤨

user user my bad queen 🙏🏽

yourinstagram you're so fucking amazing

lewishamilton yourinstagram Right back at ya darling

user lewishamilton DARLING 💗🩷🌷🌸♥️❣️❤️💘💖💝💞💟

user lewishamilton oh to be called darling by lewis hamilton

user this is already the best song from that movie

redwinelewis producing the film about the sport he conquered AND creates a song for its soundtrack.... sir lewis hamilton everybody ✨

[goddamnitmahtin]

Real Robins Can Fly

( a dc x dp prompt)

As a part of a charity event, Bruce holds a cosplay contest where contestants show off their cosplays, explain their processes and even show off a little if they have a talent of some sort that kind of fits the theme of the character.

Problem? Everyone he invited to be judges at the event are league members and they all had a case suddenly interfere so Bruce and his colleagues can’t show up. So he asks Dick to round up as many of his siblings as he can to be judges for this event. The lineup ends up being Dick, Jason, Tim, Stephanie and Damian. Duke was almost able to make it but he got caught up with work.

Dick was surprised that Damian even wanted to come considering he was drowning himself in studying for his finals. He was about to graduate high school and wanted to make sure his gpa was flawless. Nevertheless, he found a way to drag his youngest brother out of the library and into the judges panel.

The contest was fine. Most people dressed as local vigilantes or villains that were easy to recognize. There were some really good ones. There were a few that none of them recognized. A few only Tim recognized. Apparently they were from animes or something.

The day dragged on and on, all of them having to stop for breaks at different points. Dick needed to get up and walk around because sitting in one place for too long made his joints hurt. Jason had to leave to do breathing exercises when a really accurate second Robin cosplayer came through holding a crowbar of all things. Tim had to leave a few times to make phone calls as co CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Steph called the babysitter (Cass) a few times about her now 2 year old daughter. And Damian used every single one of those breaks to cram in more studying.

What nothing that day could have prepared them for was the last contestant. The 13 year old boy walked onto the stage with a huge smile in a perfect replica of Dick’s very first Robin suit. Down to the last detail everything was correct. Except that… it had been torn up and damaged in places and there were painted on bruises and wounds in the places missing fabric. Part of the mask was ripped off and being held in the boy’s hand. And the face underneath that broken mask looked just like Tim.

Tim: *after recovering faster than everyone else* Wow. What a suit! What’s your name and tell the process of creating your cosplay.

Danny: *smiles* I’m Danny! I’m 13 years old and I wanted to be Robin! Robin is my favorite vigilante because he’s an inspirational figure for younger people. I decided to design my outfit based on the very first Robin in his first ever suit that he was spotted in but I wanted to pay homage to all of the Robins so I changed it up a little bit. I studied the Robins from the past in photos and was able to come up with at least one thing from each.

Steph: I see. Could you show us these homages?

Danny: YES! *his eyes glowed green in excitement, catching Jason and Damian off guard* I designed the suit itself to look like the first Robin as he was the pioneer of the Robin title but I made the entire outfit from materials only used on the current Robin. As you can see the color scheme for the suit is more muted than the original as the current Robin uses shadows and corners more for attacks than the others did.

Damian: *smiles slightly*

Danny: I chose my wounds and distresses in the costume based on photos of the second and third Robins. They took more physical blows than the rest did. *pointing to each wound, pointing to one in the abdomen* This one is just a theory of mine but I think the third Robin might of at one point had a surgery around here from his fighting style. He would protect his abdomen from attack more.

Tim: …… I see.

Danny: And the fourth Robin was a deviation from the pattern because she was a girl that didn’t have the dark hair that all the others had. She wasn’t Robin for very long but her style and decision making were more unpredictable than the rest so if you just give me a second… *fidgets with his gloves for a moment* Whole watching her footage I noticed how her hair was accounted for in her fighting style without it ever getting into her way. *slides off his glove* So on my wrist I have a replica of the headband she used in her suit but smaller so it’s more of a bracelet.

Steph: *noticing how accurate it is* Oh- wow-

Jason: That’s really impressive Danny. Tell us a little bit more about how you actually created the suit. Your process.

Danny: Well the entire thing is made of an armored flex material that I made in my sister’s basement. I studied pictures of all of the Robin suits and noticed parts of the fabric that stood out and made my prototype from there. *smiles* I have a small sample for you guys to pass around! *hands Jason said sample*

Jason: Oh that’s really impressive-

Tim: You said you made it in your sister’s basement? How did your parents feel about it?

Danny: My parents are gone. It’s just me and Jazz. I spent all of my money on the materials to make this. I’m hoping to win because the prize money will be enough for her to buy a car so she can find a new job. And maybe with the rest I’ll finally be able to go to space camp this summer. I’ve always wanted to go! But we could never afford it.

Steph: *covers her gasp softly* Oh-

Damian: Did you have a talent you wanted to show off for us today?

Danny: YES! *pumps his fist excitedly*

Damian: Could you demonstrate that for us please?

Danny: Okay! *climbs up the light tower next to the stage and hangs from the metal bars like a proper gymnast before jumping off, flipping and grabbing frames and pieces of rigging to swing from, replicating old tricks Dick used to do as Robin that he learned in the circus before flipping down and landing nimbly in the center of the stage* Tadah!

Dick: *absolutely shook* Why did you- choose that as your talent?

Danny: Real robins can fly. So why can’t I?

After Danny leaves the stage, it takes a few minutes for them all to collect themselves from that. Especially Dick.

Steph: So that Danny kid is gonna win.

Tim: 100 percent. He was able to recreate the fabric we make our suits out of through pictures!

Jason: We better not tell Bruce or-

Damian: Too late. I already texted father. He’s drafting adoption papers as we speak.

Dick: *who was planning on doing that himself* Dammit!

Damian: I for one, am thrilled at the prospect that this Danny child will take up the Robin mantle when I leave for college.

Steph: Well real robins can fly so why shouldn’t he? *smiles*

Dick: Stephanie I’m literally going to cry.

[lucenra]

Triggered

𝓟airing ↳ Jinu X F!Reader

𝓘𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓬𝓱 .. Reader tries her best to ignore her ex.

𝓦arnings .. flashbacks, mentions of cheating

𝓐uthor's note .. inspired by jhene aikos song triggered everyone are normal humans in thid

Part 2!

It’s been a year and a few months since you and Jinu broke up. You’ve been handling it pretty well. The popular K-Pop group HUNTR/X, also known as your bestest friends in the whole world, have been helping you get through it. You finally managed to get him off your mind.

Until..

You went out with the girls to get Rumi’s tonic juice. Everything was fine, until a group of boys walked into the same alley. Mira and Zoey immediately started thirsting over one of the guy’s abs, while Rumi scolded them, and you just shot them a look. Not that you could blame them.

Then, another guy appeared behind them.

"…Jinu?" you whispered to yourself.

Your breath hitched, and Rumi instantly grabbed your arm once she realized who it was. Jinu looked at you with yearning eyes. And just like that, the memories flooded in. Every date, every joke, every moment you bonded, every gift exchanged—it all came rushing back. Your heart ached. Burned. It felt just like it did when you first found out he cheated.

But for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him.

Luckily, the girls stepped in before it could go any further. Before you knew it, you were being pulled away, your arms in their grasp. As you looked back, Jinu was still staring.

"Are you okay Y/N?" Zoey asks as her hand is still on your arm.

“Yeah.. yeah. Don’t worry about me. It’s fine.” You sighed, trying to convince yourself.

Mira let go of your shoulder, arms now crossed. “I’m gonna kill that bastard. Who does he think he is showing up here? Ugh. Pisses me off.”

“Thank you, Mira.” You laughed softly.

“Hey,” Rumi chimed in, trying to change the mood, “why don’t we just get your mind off things? Watch the Saja Boys perform or something?”

You nodded. Anything to distract yourself.

What you didn’t know was that you were about to see your ex again—this time, on stage.

“What the…?” Mira muttered as the same group of boys from earlier suddenly appeared and began singing. All the girls turned to look at you. You just pressed your lips together and stared at your feet.

“This is just amazing,” you muttered, Rumi then feeling bad for you.

But surprisingly… the song was actually catchy. So, you decided to stay and watch. Every time Jinu sang, his eyes were locked on you.

Wow. What a unique way to get your ex back.

♡

After the performance, the group mingled with fans. You were about to leave when someone grabbed your wrist. You prayed it was just someone letting you know you dropped something.

Of course not.

“Wait, Y/N. I want to talk to you,” Jinu said, desperation in his voice.

“Yeah, no thanks. I’m good,” you replied flatly, yanking your wrist out of his grip and following the girls.

He ran after you. Persistent.

“Can we please talk?” he asked again, this time placing his hand on your shoulder.

You shrugged him off. “You don’t get to touch me anymore. And you sure as hell don’t get to have a conversation with me,” you snapped.

He stood there, stunned. You walked away, pretending like none of it happened.

♡

Later, you lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything in your mind. What you said. What he said. Were you too harsh? Were you being rude?

No. He deserved it.

But… maybe he changed?

Your thoughts spiraled, too fast to control. You needed air. So, you went out for a walk, hood up, hands in your pockets, AirPods blasting music.

Eventually, you walked into a convenience store to grab a snack. Hood down now, you were scanning the shelves.

“Why don’t you get the blue Takis? I know they’re your favorite,” a familiar voice said behind you.

You turned. Of course. Jinu.

“You just never stop, do you?” you scoffed, brushing past him, your shoulder bumping into his.

“I really want to talk. That’s all.”

You moved to a different aisle, but he followed you like a puppy.

“What is there to talk about?” you asked coldly.

“I just need a chance to show you I’ve changed. I want a second chance. Please,” he begged.

You stood there, arms crossed. Silent.

“Please,” he repeated, softer this time.

…

“Well…”

[hoperese]

Starting Over Again LN4

A year after their breakup, she unexpectedly reunites with Lando Norris over the holidays. Old wounds resurface, but so do long-buried feelings. As Christmas nears, they face their past, open their hearts, and choose to begin again—promising to love each other better this time.

word count: 2640 (was too busy crying while crying this one)

pairing: lando norris x reader

content: second chance trope

warning: Emotional themes, Alcohol Use, Loneliness during the holidays, Implied past breakup, comeback

rese notes: Hi! finally done writing the part 2 of Maybe This Time and will soon post the part 2 of Multo. Enjoy with this one! mwa.

part 1 - Maybe This Time

ps. feel free to send request<3

Since that night they talked, she wished she hadn’t said a word to him. She really did. It felt like she’d reopened an old wound and let it sting all over again—another drop of alcohol on a cut that refused to heal.

Now, back in her apartment, she found herself staring at the box she’d shoved into a corner. The box that held every reminder of Lando: the photobooth strips, the monthsary letters, the plushie he’d won for her on that silly arcade date. She had packed it all away, hiding every piece of evidence of him—trying to erase his existence from her life.

But she couldn’t erase him that easily.

Sure, she could ignore the ache during the day, push him out of her mind as she kept herself busy. But at night? At night, she sometimes fell back into wanting him—needing him, as if he were the only thing that could make her feel steady again. Maybe it wasn’t really him she longed for. Maybe it was just the comfort, the grounding, the idea of him. Maybe she was just running from the what-ifs, from all the unanswered questions.

She thought she’d moved on. But in reality, she hadn’t. She wasn’t over Lando Norris—not even close.

London was cold, and she had grown used to it. The chill felt like an old friend, familiar and constant, greeting her as she walked through the market. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself, trying to stay warm, trying to keep moving—trying to ignore, like the coward she felt she was, the memory of that conversation with him. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t erase it from her mind.

It was December. The holidays were meant to bring joy and smiles, to light up the city and the hearts of the people in it. But for her, it all felt hollow. She had called her parents and told them she’d stay in London for Christmas. She promised she wouldn’t be alone. But that, too, was a lie.

She found herself in some pub, a week before Christmas, nursing a glass of whiskey while the world around her seemed wrapped in joy. Everyone else was with their loved ones, sharing laughter and warmth, while she was probably drowning herself in the burn of the drink.

Then she heard a familiar voice behind her, and her heart sank a little. She turned her head and saw Max—Lando’s best friend.

“It’s Christmas, and you’re here drinking like it’s some sad festive,” Max teased, sliding onto the stool beside her as he ordered himself a drink. It had been a while since they’d seen each other.

He studied her for a moment before adding, “You look… same as usual. Just missing a smile.”

She blinked at him, then tipped back the rest of her whiskey before replying, “I’m fine, Max… Just busy with work.” The last part came out as more of a mumble, unconvincing even to herself.

“You know…” Max began carefully, swirling his drink. “He mentioned something to me—that you and he talked at some party.” He hesitated, then added, “Made him overthink, you know? That night, he called me—drunk—mumbling about how maybe he should’ve held onto you, how maybe things would’ve been different…”

She cut him off, her voice firmer than she expected. “But it didn’t, Max. It didn’t. It’s been a year already.”

Max winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… I know. No need to remind me.”

The bartender slid their drinks over. Max picked his up and glanced at her, a little awkwardly. “I—uh… happy holidays, I guess.” Then, quieter, as if he wasn’t sure he should say it, “He still loves you… he really does.”

And with that, he left her sitting there, the noise of the pub fading into the background as his words echoed in her mind.

She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts, and took another sip of her drink. The alcohol stung, sharp and bitter.

Maybe… maybe there’s still a chance, she thought, the idea slipping in before she could stop it.

And fate was such a funny thing she thought as she finds herself in some store looking what to cook as it would just be her alone when she bump someone as she looks up and saw him, Lando, she blinks as she said “Sorry…” as she quickly moves as his hand grabs her wrist as he said “Wait- I thought you don’t live here?” which she turn her head and look at him “I still do… I kept the apartment, excuse me I need to go” as she quickly walks leaving Lando in the store confused as he thought there’s still chance as he knew where the apartment was as he debates as he sees her completely walk away.

It was Christmas—a holiday she once loved, but now could hardly stand. There was nothing about it that felt joyful anymore. She kept herself busy, making a simple Christmas dinner: just some pasta, maybe a glass of wine to go with it.

She sighed as she stirred the sauce, then turned off the stove when the doorbell rang. Groaning, she called out, “A minute!”

Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she made her way to the door. When she opened it, she froze, surprised at who stood there.

Lando.

He was holding a basket filled with little treats—things he remembered she loved. Chocolates, and a few other small comforts. He looked up at her, a little uncertain, as their eyes met.

“Hey… I remembered you liked these,” he said softly, offering her the basket.

She hesitated, then slowly accepted it. “Thanks… You’re here?” she asked, eyeing him, confusion and disbelief mingling in her gaze.

Lando held her eyes, unable to stop the words that spilled out. “I missed you… I really do miss you, love.” The honesty in his voice was raw. He hadn’t planned to say it, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He needed her.

And with those words coming from him, she found herself that night no longer alone. Lando stayed. The air between them was awkward at first—hesitant, uncertain—but slowly, as the hours passed, they began talking. About life. About little things. She even found herself chuckling at some of his stories, and every time she laughed, he looked at her as if he couldn’t believe it—like it was a dream to be here with her again.

They sat at the table, eating together, the way they used to. She sipped her wine and spoke softly, almost to herself.

“I still love staying here. I could never bring myself to sell this place. It’s my first real home.”

Her voice lingered on the word home—because that’s what it had been. A home with him.

She glanced at him and added, more quietly, “It was different without you here. It felt… empty.”

Lando took a slow sip of his wine, trying to steady the rush of feeling that washed over him. Her words softened his heart in a way he hadn’t expected.

“You know… I still kept your charm with me—the one you told me to wear for safety and good luck,” He said softly, his eyes meeting hers.

She froze for a moment, caught off guard. She hadn’t expected him to still have it.

“The one I put inside your helmet?” she asked quietly, her voice tinged with surprise.

He nodded, his gaze gentle. “Yeah. I think… It reminds me to be careful when I’m driving. Like someone’s still waiting for me back home.”

Home. And in his heart, that was still her. It would always be her.

She looked at him, emotions swirling—love, sadness, regret—too many things she couldn’t name. She took another sip of her wine, trying to steady herself, and gave a small nod.

“That’s… great. You should be,” she mumbled, the words tasting bittersweet.

He looked at her, picking up on the weight behind her words. His voice was gentle, honest.

“I couldn’t get rid of some of your stuff. It felt… wrong to erase you completely from my life. It’s like… it’s sacred, somehow.”

Her gaze dropped, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her wine glass. The question slipped from her lips, soft and uncertain.

“Do you… do you think we could’ve done something else? Maybe… maybe we’d still be together?”

Lando was quiet for a moment, thinking. His heart ached as he met her eyes again.

“Of course,” he said, his voice steady. “If we’d done something—anything—we’d still be together.”

Then, softer, almost like he hadn’t meant for her to hear it, he added, “I would’ve married you… I’d definitely marry you.”

“I… uh, can you stay?” she blurted out suddenly, surprising even herself.

Lando blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

She felt her cheeks flush, and for a moment she wondered if it was just the wine. She cleared her throat, trying to steady her voice.

“It’s not good for you to drive. You’ve had too much to drink, you know,” she pointed out gently, glancing at the nearly empty wine bottle.

Lando studied her for a moment, as if trying to read what she really meant beneath the words. Then he gave a small nod, his voice soft.

“You’re right… I’ll stay tonight.”

They both found themselves lying on her bed, the room dim and still. She faced him, watching him sleep, as if trying to memorize the moment—just in case he was gone when morning came.

Please don’t disappear when the sun rises, she pleaded silently, holding her breath as if saying it too loudly would break whatever fragile thread kept him there.

Her eyes roamed over his sleeping face—the way his features softened in rest, the way he looked so at peace. It was something she’d always loved about him. When he slept, it was like the weight of the world vanished from his shoulders.

Her fingers moved on their own, brushing a curl from his forehead with the gentlest touch, afraid to wake him but needing to feel he was real.

“Stay with me… please,” she whispered, barely audible, as if speaking to a dream.

She didn’t want to close her eyes. Not yet. Not if it meant waking up to an empty space beside her.

“I won’t…” he said suddenly, his voice low and steady.

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as he slowly opened his, meeting her gaze with quiet certainty.

“I’ll be here,” he whispered. “I promise.”

It was a gentle assurance, but it wrapped around her like a blanket, soft and real.

Before she could say anything, his arm slipped around her, pulling her close until her body was tucked against his.

“Sleep now, love,” he murmured, his voice warm against her hair. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.”

His chin rested lightly on her head, and he let out a soft sigh, as if trying to breathe out all the pain she still carried. His hand began to gently pat her back—slow, comforting, familiar. He knew she liked it that way. It was how she fell asleep best.

And tonight, more than anything, he just wanted her to rest… truly rest.

Because for once, he was there—and he meant every word.

For the first time in a long while, waking up didn’t feel like the hardest thing she had to do.

The soft rays of sunlight began to seep through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room—as if the morning itself was gently greeting her, answering a silent prayer she’d whispered into the dark.

Her brows furrowed slightly at the brightness, her body shifting under the sheets. She slowly blinked her eyes open, still half-lost in sleep, until she felt it—

The weight behind her.

The warmth of an arm wrapped securely around her waist.

Her breath caught as she carefully turned her head, eyes meeting the familiar sight of him—still asleep, still there.

He stayed.

Still half-asleep, Lando instinctively pulled her closer, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his face nestled gently into the curve of her neck. He missed this—missed her. Even in sleep, his body remembered.

“I’m here, love,” he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with sleep, but full of something steady—something real. He was keeping his promise. And he would keep it, always.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the comfort of his presence settle around her before whispering back, “I know…”

Slowly, she turned to face him, needing to see him—really see him. Her hand rose with caution, fingers lightly brushing his cheek, her palm cradling his face.

As if she were afraid it wasn’t real. Afraid that at any moment, she’d wake up and he’d be gone.

But he was there. Warm, breathing, hers.

The silence between them lingered in the soft light of morning, peaceful but heavy. She lay there for a moment longer in his arms, feeling his breath on her skin, steady and warm. But then doubt crept in—the kind that had been haunting her even before he showed up at her door.

She gently pulled away, sitting up. The sudden shift stirred Lando from his half-sleep, watching her as she quietly got out of bed and walked toward the window, wrapping her arms around herself.

He sat up slowly, sensing the shift in her energy. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

She didn't turn around at first. “What if we just… repeat everything?” she said quietly. “What if it goes back to how it was? Distance, misunderstandings, the pain… What if we end up hurting each other all over again?”

Lando stood and crossed the room, his steps careful, as if not to startle her. “Then we learn from it,” he said, his voice gentle but sure. “We don’t run from the same fights. We talk. We grow through it this time.”

She finally turned to face him, eyes clouded with uncertainty. “But what if love isn’t enough?”

Lando stopped in front of her, close enough to touch but giving her space. “Then we make it enough,” he replied. “Love is the foundation—but now we know what it needs to stand. Trust. Patience. Effort.”

He reached out and took her hand, slowly, letting her decide if she would pull away. She didn’t.

“I’ve had a year to think about everything I did wrong,” he continued, eyes locked on hers. “And I know now—if I ever got to hold you again, I’d love you far better.”

She didn’t speak, not yet. But she didn’t pull away either.

Lando took a moment, his gaze never leaving hers, letting the weight of the past and the possibilities of the future settle between them. He could see the pain and regret in her eyes, mirroring his own emotions.

“But… we’re here now,” he said quietly, his tone infused with both hope and resolve. “It might not be what we imagined, but we have another chance.”

Then, slowly, he leaned in—hesitant, patient—giving her the space to stop him. She didn’t. Their lips met in a tender kiss, a silent vow, a quiet beginning.

Sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the room in warm, golden light as if the universe itself was blessing their reunion.

As he pulled away, his eyes searched hers, filled with a mix of determination and affection.

“This time,” he whispered, “I’ll love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

They stood there for a moment, hearts beating in sync, the silence between them now filled with something soft and promising. Lando’s arms remained around her, holding her close, forehead resting gently against hers.

“We may not have everything we lost back then,” he said, his voice low and sincere, “but we can create something new. Something better. Together.”

[lavenderangel111]

Heyyyy

I'm George's sister Valerie

I found loa in 2024 since then it's been a roller coaster. I was obsessed with changing my life but it was so hard to stay motivated. My family was poor and I was bullied for wearing old clothes and shoes. I have been bullied my whole life. My self esteem was shit. Deep down I didn't feel worthy of having a good life. I managed to manifest few things over the years but the thing I wanted the most is to enter void. When my brother started having problems with work I knew that I had to lock in. The breaking point for me was the day my brother called me from jail after he didn't come home which isn't something he would do. After that call I said f it all. I will enter void if it's the last thing I will do. I didn't sleep that night. I spent the whole night rampaging. I fell asleep what the sun rise. I woke up to my mom shouting and crying. My brother had come home looking like he had been to hell and come back. He was limping and had bruises all over his body. He had dried blood on his face and his clothes were torn. I'm crying just remembering. I'm so glad he got his revenge. Anyway, my mother and I helped cleaned his wounds and he went to sleep after taking pain killers. Both of my parents looked 20 years older. When my brother woke up from his nap he said that he would enter void. He said that if he enters he will manifest that we have always been rich and we have never suffered. I told him that I want to remember our old life and that he should manifest that I enter void. We were all so tired and we went to bed early.

The exciting part

I woke up in the middle pf the night to pee. Before I open my eyes I know that something feels different. My bed feels soft as a cloud. I opened my eyes and said oh shit. My room was completely different. I just sat there for 2 minutes crying because I couldn't believe that my brother actually did it. I wanted to run to his room to wake him up but I remembered that I had to pee. I put my feet on the ground and I felt this soft rug. I'm embarrassed to say that I got off the bed and rolled on the rug 🙈. I looked around my room and noticed that I had my own bathroom. I did my business and looked in the mirror but my face was still the same. I was almost disappointed then I remembered that I asked my brother to manifest for me to enter void so I ran to bed and lay on my back. I forced myself to stay still until I started to feel like I'm floating. I said "I am pure consciousness" until I fell asleep. When I woke up everything was black then I said "I have everything I want" then I just stayed there because it was so peaceful. I woke up and my room was different again. This time it was exactly what I wanted. I heard little feet on the floor and a bark. It was a puppy! A golden retriever. She's so cute and as soon as I picked her up she gave me lots of kisses. I stood up to check out the rest of my room and I was really impressed because I didn't have an exact picture of the things I wanted but I believed that everything would be perfect. I have a walk in closet full of so many things like expensive jewellery, shoes, clothes and purses. I also have a full length mirror. My jaw dropped when I saw my face and body. I look Unreal now. My skin is clear, my body is hairless, I have dark waist length hair and Hazel eyes, slim thick body. Everything is even better than I could have possibly imagined. I finished exploring my room and when I stepped outside my room, my brother was about to knock on my door and when he saw me and my puppy he said "Valerie what the hell???" Lol. I noticed that his injuries dissappear so I gave him a tight hug and thanked him a thousand times. I went to take shower and spent an hour in there playing with soaps shampoo and all the different shower settings 😂. I checked my phone and it was a Samsung S25. I saw that I was added to so many groups and I had a bunch of new friends 🧡. I went downstairs to have breakfast prepared by our new private chef with my family. My parents look so happy and carefree. I don't think I have ever seen them like this before. Later on i went to hang out wuth my friends and we took pictures for instagram. I saw that i have 95k follwers. I git home and cried again because i couldn't believe that me the girl who had no friends and was bullied has a perfect life now. I go to a private school and I'm the most popular girl in school. In tbe evening, my brother and i just sat in silence. I turned to him and said "is this what happiness feels like?" He said "Yes, we don't have to worry about anything ever again." I'm sorry for giving unnecessary details but I'm just so excited 😊. I'll end here.

I would like to thank everyone in the community. Your posts, advices and success stories kept me going. Lavender, I want to thank you for being there for my brother through the roughest time of his life. You're an angel 😇. Because of you we are now planning a family vacation and I'm going to have a sweet 16❤️. I love you so much 😘

Congratulations Valerie!!!

You guys have been through so much but everything worked out in the end. Some parts of your story made me cry and other parts made me laugh, I really enjoyed reading it and I love how detailed it was :) I could feel your excitement through the screen 💖

Have fun on your vacation! Love you too ❤️❤️

[corvusalbus93]

Astarion & the Consequences of Good Deeds

So, I did the “Stop the Presses” the other day and for those, who haven’t done it, because I missed it in my first playthrough, basically you have to stop the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette from printing a hit piece against the party. You can trigger the quest by talking to reporters Lens or Estra Stir and it becomes time-sensitive after talking to Ettvard Needle in the Baldur’s Mouth (aka article is printed after next long rest).

Since you get kicked out of the building I naturally I completed the quest with Astarion, as he’s the best for sneaking through that building undetected. So, I snuck through, found a new printing block to replace the hit piece with and made it to the printer.

As it turns out, the thing is operated by the fairy Jelliwig, who recognized Astarion (and would have probably any of any party), because Dolly Dolly Dolly had been freed in Act 2. In my playthrough this too had been done by Astarion, since his Sleight of Hand-skills had made this very easy (also no disapproval, when he does it).

Apparently Dolly can’t shut up about him and so, as a result of that action in Act 2, Jelliwig offers to drop the hit piece and print a different story. If you haven’t freed Dolly you need to pass some dialogue/skill checks.

Printing Press: Oi! Gormless! Over here. Thought I recognised you. Dolly Dolly Dolly was right – you aren’t much of a looker. Printing Press: Dolly can’t stop talking about you. Hero this, hero that, hero here, hero there. Hello, hero. Printing Press: You know, there’s some absolute filth about you in tomorrow’s edition. Seeing as you were king enough to free Dolly, how’s about I do you a favour? Printing Press: Why don’t we change the headline? We can load up something a bit less... damaging for your reputation?

So, where am I getting with all this?

Well, as we learn more about Astarion’s backstory, we find out he was often punished and tortured by Cazador. The worst of it he suffered after committing a morally good deed, saving that boy he just couldn’t bring to his master. And even early in Act 1, he sees Wyll too getting punished for sparing Karlach and he doesn’t seem exactly surprised.

If the last 200 years have taught him anything (among others), is that people with power can do whatever they want, unpunished, and no good deed goes unpunished. That is part of the worldview he has when we meet him. It’s not surprising he sees no merit in helping anyone throughout most of the game, with a few exceptions.

But as time progresses, the party helps more people things start to change. The people repay the party with gear, supplies, information, ect. - Dammon even fixed Karlach’s engine as well as he can for free. And in the end, when everyone gathered at the High Hall, in a good-aligned playthrough, the room is crowded with people you’ve helped since Act 1. As players we too notice how the game is easier, when you make allies, and the characters in game would take note of the help they receive as well.

When Astarion first receives thanks from the tieflings for killing the goblin leaders he’s dismissive, but in Act 2, when he says he’s never pictured himself as a banisher of shadows, he smiles. The role is growing on him, little by little.

Then in continuities like mine, Astarion experiences the results of good deeds in at least one very direct example, as it pays off not just immediately (Dolly blessing the party to resist the curse), but unexpectedly later on (Jelliwig doing him a good deed in turn unprompted).

Sure, sometimes doing the “right” things is punished or makes things more difficult, but I think for his character development it was also important to relearn that good deeds sometimes do pay off, can be rewarding in various ways – not just in terms of material gain but in gaining trust, respect, allies, even friends:

Post refusing the rite: Wyll: Astarion showed restraint where most others wouldn’t. He might not appreciate the sentiment – but I’m proud of him. Lae’zel: To seek power for personal glory alone is a farce Astarion was wise to see it. Karlach: He’d hate to hear me say this, but I’m so fucking proud of Astarion. He could’ve had it all, but he kept his soul instead. Wasn’t sure he had it in him, but he’s changed so much. Overcome so much darkness. Ooh, I could smooch that pointy little face!

[cupidstrace]

Once Upon A Time

Summary; You don't fall in love easily. But there was a time. Pairing; Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content Warnings; character death

You sit across from a man in a small diner, watching him drone on and on about the gritty details of corporate as if you yourself don’t deal with it every passing day. The world outside the window speeds by in a blur, just like it always has, ever since three years ago.

He offers a charming smile that has your heart curling in your chest. You smile back.

His lips move, and you have to will yourself to listen. “You’re staring at me. What, have you fallen already?”

You laugh softly.

You don’t fall in love anymore. Or believe in it.

But there was once a time.

You were once a kid, brave enough to chase the impossible. Naive enough to believe you could reach it. A dreamer, full of grand ideas, chasing some sort of utopia in which everything would end up fine, and you would lose nothing in the process.

But that’s not how the world works. There’s give and there’s take. There’s the living and the dead and the fact that nothing will ever remain truly stagnant. Not love. Not even you.

You were once in love.

Gojo Satoru was insufferably cocky. Reckless. Arrogant, even.

But he was brilliant. Brave enough to chase the impossible, and stubborn enough to achieve it. He believed that strength wasn’t about how many enemies you could bring to their knees, but how many people you could keep standing.

And he was good.

He had a penchant for getting in over his head and telling you nothing. He’d come home and curl up with his head in your lap like that made up for all the silences, the half-truths, the lives he lived outside your door. He said he was a teacher. But he never let you visit the school. He never let you all the way in.

He’d watch you drift off fondly and be gone by the time you woke.

And yes, he wasn’t always present. Yes, you never married him, too swept up in arguments over finances and commitment and you never think of me as anything but a way to redeem yourself to realize that he wanted to propose. Yes, you never got any further than small murmurs at 2 am about a white picket fence and two kids in a faraway land where nothing ever mattered.

But you loved him. And he loved you. Very much.

He’d take you out when time allowed, which wasn’t very often. You’d wait late into the night to hand him a bag of sweets and see him beam. He’d whisper names in his sleep that he couldn’t bring himself to say in the daylight, and you never asked. Just held him closer.

He looked at you as if you were some fragile thing, and he was breaking you, ruining you, just by being fragile himself. He held you as if you were worth everything, and his worth was determined by how close he could mold your body to his. As if your warmth might redeem him.

Sometimes, in the quiet of the evening, with the TV humming something forgettable in the background, he’d ask if you thought he was strong enough to protect you. Even though he failed others. Even though the weight of a million could-have-beens pressed into every word he uttered and every action he took.

You used to tell him that strength didn’t mean carrying the world. It meant being vulnerable enough to let others into that world.

And for a while, you believed that.

You believed a lot of things, once.

The man taps your hand softly, and you snap out of it, offering an apologetic look. “Sorry. I was just.. thinking.”

He nods, eyes crinkling. “Do tell.”

You stare at him for a moment, searching his eyes for some flash of blue that you know won’t be there. Searching his smile for the feigned arrogance of the man that held you close all those years ago. “Do you ever wish you could turn back time?”

He hums, taking a sip of his drink before responding. “Is this one of those first date opener questions?”

You muster a soft laugh. “Maybe.”

“Yes,” he responds. “All the time. The past is like.. sand after a long day at the beach. Sometimes you go home and sit in silence and realize there’s still grains left in your asscrack. But they’ll wash away. You can’t keep going back to the beach just to slip more sand in your bathing suit.”

You blink at his metaphor, then tilt your head. “You go to the beach a lot?”

He grins. “All the time. You?”

You nod.

You wish you could turn back time to that day three years ago and ask him to stay. You wish you could stop him at the door, hold his face in your hands, and tell him not to go. Not this time. You wish you’d begged. Screamed. Something. Anything.

Instead, all you have left is a voicemail.

It’s old. Glitchy. You’ve played it so many times the words have started to slur together, like the memory of his voice is disintegrating. Softened by time, warped by grief. You’ve listened to it while staring at the photo frame on your nightstand, as if you could will him back into existence just by refusing to forget.

Hi, baby. I’m helping one of my students, so I might come back late.

..hey.

When I get home, let’s get married.

A weak laugh follows. It hurts to hear it every time, like he knew he’d never get the chance.

Let’s buy that little house on an island somewhere no one knows our names. We’ll build a fence. Two kids. No more work. No more secrets. Just you and me. I promise.

I love you, baby.

I’ll be home soon.

But he never was. Not really.

Not even a body. No final words beyond that message, stuttering through static like some ghost caught on repeat.

All they gave you was an apology. Gutted and formal and not nearly enough of an explanation to excuse the fact that he was gone. And a small, weathered box his subordinate found beneath your shared wardrobe. With a ring inside.

The one you pointed to years ago in a window you passed once and never mentioned again. Still gleaming. Still waiting.

Sometimes, in your lowest moments, you play the message back and whisper that you would’ve said yes. Because you would’ve. A million times over.

But the line’s long dead.

You blink and you’re back to the present, watching the man across from you motion to his bicep. “And that’s where the jellyfish stung me.”

He looks up at you as if waiting for some sort of awestruck look. Or concern. Or maybe both.

You hesitate, then muster a small “oh.”

The man pauses at your reaction, then laughs, sheepish. “It wasn’t a bad sting though. Anyway, yeah.. that was the first time I went to the beach. The real beach, not the metaphorical one. I’ve been hooked ever since.”

You let yourself giggle at his joke, hand coming up to twist at the ring hanging on your necklace. A nervous tic. “..I always wanted to live somewhere tropical. Remote. With shore for miles.”

He grins and nods enthusiastically. “Me too. Somewhere fun, you know? A fresh start.”

“Right,” you whisper, looking down at the ring. “Somewhere peaceful.”

He catches the shift in your tone, and for a brief moment, something unreadable flickers in his eyes. Not suspicion, or pity. Quiet understanding. “..an ex?”

“My boyfriend,” you murmur. “He was – is – somewhere peaceful. I hope.”

You clear your throat and let the silence settle like dust. Let it say everything you won’t. He doesn’t try to sweep it away.

The server comes by with a smile and a check you barely remember asking for. You both reach for it at the same time.

“I’ve got it,” he says, hand brushing yours.

You let him.

Outside, the sky has turned that soft sienna that only comes at the end of a particularly long day. 

You wonder, briefly, if he’s up there.

If the stars twinkle less to mock you for remembering and more to remind you he’s smiling, watching, from somewhere you can no longer reach.

He holds the door open for you. “Want to take a walk?”

You stare at him, then smile softly. “Yes. Thank you.”

You walk side by side through streets you’ve walked before, by a sunset you’ve seen a million times over. But it’s different, somehow. Lighter.

“Do you think people only get one true love?” you ask, voice barely a whisper.

He thinks for a moment, then looks down at you. His hand touches yours, light, then he intertwines your fingers with his when you don’t pull away. “I think if you’re lucky, you get one true love who teaches you something. And if you’re brave, you’ll keep your heart open long enough to find it again.”

You stay quiet. But your shoulders drop, and the words seep through your ribs, somewhere between the neverending ache and something softer.

The ring on your necklace lies warm on your skin. The sun disappears beneath the horizon line, winking out like a bittersweet goodbye.

Maybe you were right. Maybe nothing stays stagnant.

Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

You squeeze his hand and keep walking.