#Michelle ruins everything

[koryianders]

the people bitching about angela losing are the same people who never watch Everything Everywhere All At Once. we get it. you only watch marvel movies. that’s your only gage for what cinema is. we get it. stephanie hsu played a queer woman who was the daughter of two immigrant parents and had to deal with the cultural divide created. and y’all wanna compare wakanda forever to that? i’m sorry but no. y’all need to watch a movie that isn’t marvel

[lesbianlenas]

why is this guy putting on his life vest like a diaper and this other guy going “is that really how you wear it” one of the funniest things ive ever seen 😭

[theloneamaryllis]

holy i just checked copa stadium tickets and tm is showing standard admission for the lower sections to be $600+ 💀

[chaotic-mystery]

Pairing: dbf!Joel miller x f!reader (no outbreak)

Summary: You kissed Joel after you had that terrible fight with your dad and you have no idea what Joel’s thinking now. Did you just ruin everything or will he finally admit he likes you just as much as you do him? What about Michelle?

Content warnings: my blog is 18+ so mdni! Eventual smut, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his 40s) dads best friend, enemies to lovers, slow burn, infidelity, family issues and daddy issues, talks about emotionally absent parent and effects it has, reader not feeling good enough for someone to love them, talks of healthy father daughter relationships, as well as a brief mention of being drunk. Let me know if I’ve missed anything!

|| wc: 4.2k || notif blog @chaoticnotifs || I love u ||

Within a few short moments, Joel was pushing you off him, his breaths shallow and the look on his face was already telling you something before his words did. “Darlin’, I-” He started, and he sighs deeply, great.

“Baby, I think you’re a little drunk. We can talk about this tomorrow, okay? Cmon, let’s getcha inside and get some sleep, lord knows you need it after all that cryin’. His hand smooths down his jeans over his thigh while his other hand takes yours gently, giving it a slight shake. You were sober as one could be but there was no more fight in you to argue, especially not with him.

“Yeah, probably right. Thanks for today, Joel. I appreciate it, more than you’ll ever know.” A soft smile grew on your lips before climbing out of his truck, walking to your front door. You wanted to turn around so badly and follow him into his house to his room, climb into his bed and just be held by him. Instead, you were faced with your cold, empty bed you dreaded laying in because Joel wasn’t there. It didn’t even dawn on you about Michelle until you noticed the last clean shirt you had with the bar logo on it that was hanging in your closet. The last you knew he wasn’t really with Michelle, more so on a break after everything at White Pony.

All night you tossed and turned, constantly looking out your window to Joel’s bedroom window who had a lamp on each time you glanced over. Your dreams were flooded with him, he suddenly consumed your every thought, awake or asleep. He was haunting you, the ghost of his fingertips on your skin, the way his soft lips felt on yours before he pushed you away. To be in the truck again and do it over, to kiss him longer and touch him, feel his skin and how his strong hands felt around your waist, to sit on his lap and just have him hold you right against his chest until he was content.

–

“Sarah cmon, you’re gonna be late, girl!” Joel shouts from the porch and you're awake, eyes fluttering open slowly to look at the ceiling. Sarah climbed out of who you assumed was her mother’s car and shut the passenger side door, running up the sidewalk.

Dad, stop! I’m coming, don’t eat all the pancakes!” Her giggle echoes between your houses and up your window, causing you to smile subconsciously.

Joel went inside before she made it to the porch, and her laugh got quieter as she shut the front door behind her. Soon enough it was quiet once more and you were left alone with yourself. Before you left to come back to Texas, one of your good friends mentioned to you about journaling and how healing it can be for you. With every intention of making it work, you started to dig through your drawers to find the little dyed green leather journal you got from the book store. It’s been through a lot, the way the pages are wrinkled from when it fell in the bathtub one night, some of the corners burnt from sitting next to an open candle flame for too long. Everything on its pages are things from being a kid you’re trying to process, doodles, everything you wish you could say to your dad. Journaling was sometimes helpful but most of the time it left you feeling empty.

If you didn’t harbor the feelings inside and constantly think about it, what were you supposed to feel? Is it normal to feel this empty on a day to day basis and was that something you really looked forward to? You sighed and tugged on your hoodie and pants, walking out into the hall to go downstairs and start your day with a cup of coffee. Ever since Joel watched you make coffee once at work, he hasn’t let up since. Every time he sees you with a travel cup he asks if it's hot or iced, knowing what the answer will be and he’s disappointed every single time.

With your glass almost empty by now and four pages scribbled on, you finally felt comfortable to stop. It was almost like you blacked out writing, not really sure what exactly you wrote down but it brought you that same empty feeling once more so that must’ve meant you were done for the day. A knock on your door takes you from zoning out and you’re met with Joel’s face, a plate of pancakes, and a glass of orange juice.

“Before you start, the orange juice was Sarah’s idea. I know you hate eating breakfast when you first wake up so I figured you’d nibble on these until you’re hungry enough to eat them normally.” His small smile makes your heart skip a beat and you reach out to grab the plate from him, along with the orange juice and you take a small sip, tipping the glass to him with a nod.

“Give Sarah my thanks, yeah?” The awkward silence was killing you and you were hoping he’d bring up last night. He just shoves his hand in his pocket and clears his throat, looking around at the neighbors homes as Joel racks his brain on what to say.

“Joel I-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Darlin’ it’s fine, you were drunk. We’ve all been there before.”

You groaned in annoyance and walked to the kitchen island with the front door wide open, signaling him to follow.

You leaned your ass against the counter top and folded your arms across your chest, glancing out the window above the sink to the left of you. “I wasn’t drunk, okay? I was perfectly sober. I wanted to kiss you, I’ve thought about it a lot and it was something I wanted. I’m sorry if you didn’t feel the same way. I know you’re with Michelle and I know she doesn’t trust me around you and I just gave her all the proof she needs to keep thinking that.” You were rambling out of nervousness and he just stood there and listened, his hands were on his hips while he looked at the floor. The bundle of anxiety was growing in the pit of your stomach and you were worried you just fucked everything up even more by bringing up Michelle.

“I-I just…I needed to know what it’s like to kiss you, Joel. I’m sor-”

“Honey, jus’ stop,...’kay? First of all, Michelle not trusting you isn’t because of you, it’s because she caught me one too many times checkin’ on you at work and she didn’t like it. You are a smart, funny, sarcastic woman and you’re beautiful but baby, you’re so much younger than me, not to mention my best buddy's daughter. This would never work, you and I.” Joel barely whispers the last part of his sentence and his shoulders drop, eyes finally meeting yours. The same rejected feeling crept up and bit you in the ass once more, a common feeling for you from almost every person you’ve met in your life.

“Not to mention you slept with Tommy, couldn’t do that to him.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, shaking your head at Joel. “Oh suddenly you and Tommy care who you share and pass around between the two of you? That’s really rich, Joel, considering he dropped that little nugget about you two tag teaming a girl while his drunk ass had to come get yanked out of my bed?”

Joel’s jaw clenched together and his nostrils flared slightly, the anger in him rising the more you called him out.

“Be careful if you’re gonna run your mouth about shit you don’t know.” The look on his face gave you a slight jumpstart to your heart and excitement in your tummy. He’s sexy when he’s angry but telling him that right now would only make him even more upset.

“So are you saying if I didn’t sleep with Tommy, wasn’t my dad’s daughter, and about twelve years older, I’d have a shot with you?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and walk over to him slowly with your arms behind your back, trying to look innocent.

Joel however, sees right through your bullshit and chuckles at your attempts to get more answers from him. “Did I say that?” He cocks his head to one side and watches you get close until you stop right in front of him.

“I might be reading between the lines, but oh well. Was I at least a good kisser?” You smirk at him and see the sparkle in his eye, Joel tries to fight back the corners of his lips from curling upwards.

“Why is it so easy for you to piss me off and then you wanna be sweet? You’re a damn sour patch kid.” The annoyance in his tone was only masking the laugh he was containing.

“That doesn’t tell me if I was a good kisser or not, Mr.Miller.” You grab the collar of his flannel and fix it so it laid flat and Joel’s breath hitched when you brushed against his skin.

Joel cracks his fingers in nervousness and hesitates before answering quietly, “I don’t remember, honestly. It was short.”

“Aw, is the age catching up to you, old man?” You tease, batting your eyelashes up at him.

Gently but firm enough to feel it, Joel’s hands meet your hips and squeeze firmly as he leans in, lips ghosting over yours. Now it’s your turn to have your breath hitch and the nervousness bubbled in your stomach.

His eyes close for just a moment before he grumbles,”Yeah I bet you wanna kiss me again. Does it get you all excited, baby? Kissin an older man like me when you’re not ‘sposed to?” He pulls back, standing up straight this time with the evilest grin on his face.

Joel could see you panicking to find an answer, an excuse, something. Without waiting for your answer, he turns on the heel of his boot and heads for the door, leaving you speechless and heart racing in the middle of your kitchen.

“What’s wrong sweet girl, cat got your tongue?” The door was shut before you could come up with a smart ass response to retort. Even worse than a cat having your tongue, Joel Miller had your tongue. If he wants to play this game with you, he’d soon be figuring out how much better at it you were than him. With the warm plate of pancakes calling your name from the marble counter behind you, you pulled back foil and watched the small amount of steam roll up into thin air.

Tearing into the fluffy pancakes, you rip a piece off and put it in your mouth, the butter soaked into the layers but still present. It was good at first and it had been a long time since you had a homemade breakfast. Before you can understand what’s happening, your fingers grip quickly and pull apart piece after piece and shove it in your cheeks as you close your eyes and feel the tears sting. To be cared for by a man who’s old enough to be your dad but isn’t your dad will always be hard for you. Why was it so easy for them to do kind things for you without a second thought but it was like pulling teeth for your own blood? For just a second you felt the jealousy of never having what Sarah and Joel have, that connection and inseparableness of father and daughter. The hot tears fall down your cheeks as your arms drop, no more soft pancake shoved in between your teeth as your brows furrowed in sorrow… anger, confusion…jealousy. It was almost as if a switch flipped and you were yanked out of your dark mindset over a kind gesture from your neighbor.

You grab a napkin from the holder in the middle of the counter and quickly spit out the mush, your vision so blurry and fuzzy from the tears. Your home was quiet with only the fridge buzzing softly and your runny nose sniffling subconsciously. Cold fingers wrap around the orange juice and you bring it to your slightly puffy post-cry lips, taking a small sip and letting the tangy liquid roll down your esophagus. You try to swallow your feelings and bury them deep inside once more to hide away the things you don’t dare talk about with anyone.

What little bit of jealousy still inside you causes you to push the plate away from the end of the counter, groaning in frustration at the meltdown you thought you had controlled.

~

Weeks go by and you haven’t heard much from Joel. His truck was gone when you got up early in the mornings trying to find a new job and his driveway was still empty by the time you were going to bed. Not a single phone call returned to you from him, your red landline phone he made fun of you for buying at a garage sale hardly rang unless it was someone trying to sell fake insurance. Thanksgiving came and went and it was like nothing happened between you and your dad, or at least no one brought it up when you gathered with the rest of your family at his house. They were all surprised to see you since you left years ago with your mother and never visited for the holidays but no one wanted to ruin the day of pretending you were a big happy family. The only people you called while you were away were your grandparents. They were like your best friends, always knew what was going on with you and they wanted better than what you got, they even knew their son made many mistakes when it came to the way he parented you. Even at your age now you still need them how you did as a little girl, clinging to their side when you felt overwhelmed by all the people swarming you asking millions of questions while you’re trying to get a plate of food. You sat in the corner in an uncomfortable chair while you ate your food but all you could seem to think about was Joel, where he was or who he was with, was he even celebrating today? He was probably with Michelle and her family, talking away about how great she is to her parents while the reality was that she was still upset with him over Halloween. They were just like your family, everyone pretending to be something they weren’t. Luckily it went okay without anything bad happening this time but there was still Christmas to come.

With the holiday just passing a couple days ago and still no sign of Joel, you decide to call him just to check up on him. Three rings into the call and you were praying to the universe he didn’t answer, not because you didn’t want him to be okay but you didn’t even know what to say if he did pick up. Just as the fourth ring starts, Joel’s deep voice fills your ear canals.

“H-hello?” He sounds confused at first but then it fades to irritation quickly.

“Joel..? Hey..” You stutter out as you shove the red handset into the crook of your shoulder and ear while you fiddle with the cord.

“What do ya want, kid? Somethin’ wrong?” You can hear muffled voices behind him but all you can focus on is Joel and the way his voice sounds like velvet over the phone.

“N-no, no nothing wrong I just..” your voice wavers for a moment and something inside your mind tells you to be honest with him even if it’ll blow up in your face. “...I miss you..and you left without saying a word…was it something I did-” You stop yourself from babbling on and cut the risk of looking even more dumb to him. Joel’s end was consumed by the muffled voices and laughter, a door being shut silenced the noise and it was just you and Joel.

“It’s kinda hard to talk right now, honey. I went with Michelle to her parents in Kansas for Thanksgiving. You didn’t do anything wrong. I'm just trying to get all of this sorted out, okay? You gotta remember I’ve been with her for a long time and it’s not just somethin’ I can just leave out of the blue.” Joel sighs deeply and your heart starts to get heavy inside your body, the phone cord tangled in your fingers.

“Okay, sorry for bothering you. Have fun and have a safe drive back, guess I’ll still be here waiting for you.” It wasn’t your goal to get annoyed with him but this was how you coped. You’d shut down as soon as something bad was happening and acted like it didn’t hurt. Like it didn’t make you want to curl into a ball of embarrassment when he didn’t say he missed you back. Before he could respond you hung up on him and unplugged the phone line from the handset so he couldn’t call back, not that he even would.

With the kitchen clock reading almost nine o'clock at night and your head in a mess, you figured it was more than needed for you to go to bed. Your bedroom window seemed so incomplete with the safe sight of Joel’s lamp lighting up the window it sat in. Before getting into bed you thought you’d feel better if you put on the Wizard of Oz, your favorite childhood movie. Tucking yourself right between your pile of blankets and pillows, you laid there watching the house spin and spin in the tornado but you couldn’t resist not looking over at Joel’s house every two minutes like he’d suddenly be back and throwing rocks at your window like those corny rom coms. Even imagining it seemed too crazy, you and Joel could never be like that. The ruby shoes were sparkling on your eyes as your lids got heavy and you were asleep within seconds, dreaming of Joel once again.

You wake up hours later to the DVD menu on loop and your front door being pounded on. With your heart racing you look out your window and see Joel’s truck in the driveway with the engine still running, driver's side door wide open. You wrap the throw blanket around your shoulders and practically run down the stairs to look through the peephole. A messy haired, sweaty, disheveled Joel was leaning against the door waiting on you to answer. Swinging open the front door, he yanks back the screen door that was separating you two and stepped inside, grabbing your face and walking you backwards.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’? You unplug your phone after throwin’ a tantrum and I can’t call you back, don’t know what’s goin’ on with you?!” Joel’s voice rattled you even though it was caring, it was still coated in frustration.

“I’m sorry I went to bed, I meant to plug it back in I’m- I’m sorry..” You look at his face and it dawns on you just how freaked out he was. He drove ten hours straight just to come see if you were okay.

“What did you think I was gonna do? Hang up and just go about my time in Kansas not knowing what happened to you? Bein’ a goddamn brat making’ it hard for me to get in touch with you.” Joel’s jaw clenches as his hands tighten on your face. His eyes haven’t relaxed yet and it’s almost like he’s searching in yours to find some truth to your actions, to find some reason.

You were speechless at him. Every time he did something it surprised you even more that someone cares about you that much to go the mile for you.

“Did you really drive all night to come back and check on me?” The hint of excitement in your voice makes Joel roll his eyes and a small smirk grow on his face. His face finally softens and he pulls you against him with his hands rubbing your back.

“Of course you wanna hear me say I drove ten hours just for you, crazy brat. Don’t ever do that to me again, understood?” Joels scruff softly brushes against your ear and you finally feel safe again, even if your relationship was up in the air.

“Would you maybe wanna stay with me, just until I fall asleep?” It kind of came out of your mouth before you thought about it but there was no more hesitating.

“I can, yeah. Let me go shut off my truck and I’ll be back in a second.” He kisses your forehead softly and walks back outside to his driveway, pulling his keys out of the ignition and locking the door. His black suitcase rolls against the pavement behind him on the walk back to your house. The sun would soon be up and shining through the tree branches but you had a hard time accepting this wasn’t a dream. He leaves his suitcase by the door and sits on the couch, sighing as he gets comfortable. Joel’s eyes watch you closely as you walk back to him with a water bottle directed to him to grab.

“Just try to be quiet when you leave, okay?” You mutter as you lay your head on his lap while tugging the blanket over you as you curl into a ball like a cat. Joel chuckles and rubs his chin slightly as he adjusts and gets comfortable with the pillow behind his head. It came as no surprise to yourself that you were already preparing for the heartbreak you’d eventually have to feel when he left while you’re fast asleep no matter how much you tried to enjoy Joel being there in the moment.

“I’ll try my hardest, baby girl.” He teases, softly running his fingernails against your scalp. Joel’s breathing slows to soft snores that fill the living room, the only sound that was audible as the sun came up and soon drowned the room in warm rays.

Joel’s watch on his left hand read just a little after eleven and the house was still, your light snores getting his attention as he rubs his eyes of sleepiness. You looked so peaceful to him and he didn’t want to leave you just yet.

He grabs onto your shoulder and shakes you awake gently, brushing the hair out of your face that fell during your nap.

“I’m starving and I know you don’t have enough food here to feed the both of us. Cmon, let’s go eat…I’ll buy.” Joel was trying to bribe you and you hated that it was working. You sit up and look at him with barely opened eyes.

“Really?”

Joel stands up to stretch and his midriff is exposed by his shirt, causing your eyes to glance at the skin you hadn’t seen until now.

“My offer is good for another thirty seconds, clock is tickin’.” The playfulness in his voice makes you grin and you grab your house keys from the bowl of clutter near the front door. Your head nods towards his truck and he strolls outside, shaking his head at your outfit.

“You really gonna wear that? Don’t think the waitress would take too kindly to a shirt that says, “Cougars” with a heart…” His fingers pinch the fabric and he lets go, a small indent left on the shoulder piece.

While you both buckle in, Joel looks around for anything you could use to cover what he thought was a god awful shirt. He tosses a black hoodie at you to wear and you begrudgingly tug it on when you notice his company’s logo on the back.

“There’s nothing wrong with showing cougars love, Joel. Would you rather it say dad’s best friend?” You can see his eyebrow raise as he cocks his head slightly to glance over at you.

“Don’t push it.” He mutters and starts to head to the diner.

You both decide on a booth and look over the menu before ordering and Joel sips his coffee, taking in the strong notes of the blend to prepare clearing his throat.

“So uh- think it’s pretty obvious I can’t leave you alone no matter how hard I try. I need to get some stuff sorted out but I’m really not trying to string you along, kid.” His brown eyes flick up to meet yours and he extends out his hand to grab your arm across the worn table.

“I know I just…I hate not knowing if you’re with Michelle or not. We need to be careful around everyone, ya know- pretend that we still hate each other..” You lead on and cough slightly at the hand laying on your arm.

Joel nods understandingly, knowing exactly where you’re coming from.

“No, I’m not with-“

“Michelle, hi!” You finish his sentence as your eyes meet her piercing stare as she stands behind Joel. Her arms were crossed and nostrils flared, not understanding entirely what she walked in on.

“Michelle..”

fuck.

[sugawhaaa]

SEONGHWA X READER

{Chapter one}

Blue paint red apple

Warnings:: mentions of guns and swords/abusive relationship

Pairing:: pirate!Seonghwa x princess!reader

Genre::pirate AU, ur fiance is clearly jealous LOL

A/N::I got this idea from a character of janitor ai so credits for the inspiration: marshwa4! I don't have this story fully planned out but I know it'll work out and PLEASE TRUST ME IT LOOKS SUPER STEREOTYPICAL AND CRINGE BUT JUST READ THE FIRST 3 PARAGRAPHS ITLL GET BETTER‼️

REMINDER‼️ this isn't 100% historically accurate and should be taken with a grain of salt. This story is also set in the late 1800s to early 1900s specifically in Europe but if you want you can imagine it wherever else you'd like, it is a fictional story after all 💗

Park Seonghwa wasn't an uncommon name to hear around the kingdom. It was more of a fairy tale name than anything. Stories of his rebellious and vicious acts travel around villages and kingdoms quickly. He has been seen by many royalty and merchants but rarely caught. Officials estimate that he's killed over 400 people in his 2 years of being a pirate, with the help of his crew of course.

You were much too concerned with your citizens to care about politics and things. Being the second heir to the throne meant that you didn't have to worry about politics or officials, you were worried about your people. You were a big part of one of the children's schools. A few times a week you'd head down to the children's school and teach them some things about being a princess and simply just hang out with the kids. That was pretty much the entire highlight of your life.

Most of the time you spend in your castle. You didn't really have duties to attend to and you didn't have many friends. Most people your age were too scared to talk to you.

You sat in your room painting a massive canvas in a soft green dress, a little apron over your body to protect your expensive dress from getting ruined. You held your palette in one hand and the paintbrush in the other. You step back to look at the entire canvas, a sad sigh escaping your lips. Disappointment in your eyes. The maid in the corner comes to your side.

"Is everything alright princess?" She asks kindly.

"Yes, quite alright," you say as you put down your palette and brush. You take off your apron and hand it to the maid. "I'm going for a walk around the village," you say as you leave your room. You go downstairs to see your fiance and father talking by the doorway. You stop your hurried steps and go down the stairs cautiously and gracefully, switching your persona. "Prince Herrington," you say as you approach your soon-to-be husband. He bows to you and you force yourself to swallow your pride and curtsy.

"Where are you headed?" Herrington asks with his chin up, looking down at you.

"I'm going out to retrieve some…" you paused and tried to speak while looking at his dispiteful face. "Paint," you nod and Herrington looks at you suspiciously.

He stands to the left of the door and holds it open for you. You walk out with a respectful nod towards him before heading for the village streets. You gaze around the streets taking in the Seabreeze and fresh air. You stop by one merchant who seems to be painting. You look at his table to see paints and hand-carved palettes. Once he notices your presence he stands up and bows.

"Princess Y/N, it is an honor," he says as he sits back down. "What can I offer you?" He says eagerly with a smile. You spot one beautiful blue paint and pick up the bottle.

"Could I have this? How much would it be?" You ask kindly.

"Free of cost for royalty," he says with an eager smile. You look at the bottom of the bottle to see £1.75. You toss him two pounds before walking off.

"Keep the change," you smile with a gentle wave. You turn to continue your walk before bumping into someone, stumbling backward from their force. You dust off your dress. "Excuse me," you say with a displeased expression as you look up to see a tanned-skinned man with his hair slicked back. Your lips parted in shock from such an exotic-looking man. He looked down at you with a blank expression.

"Pardon," he says in a rough voice. He leans down slightly to reach your height. "My, aren't you a rare sight," he says as leans closer. Your breath quickens as you step back a little. He picks up an apple from the stand next to you. He takes an aggressive bite as he examines you. You're at a loss for words as he analyzes you, his gaze heavy and lustful.

"Y-You're going to pay for that right," you raise an eyebrow at him and he looks down at the apple, standing up straight again. He tosses it behind him and a short and scruffy man catches it, his teeth gold and rotted as he smiles at the apple.

"And if I don't?" He crosses his arms with a little smirk. You adjust your dress and try to stand tall to him. You open your mouth to speak before stopping. "Cat got your tongue princess?" He chuckles as he looks down at you.

"You will pay for it. I command you to," you frown and cross your arms. He puts his arms down and scoffs.

"You command me to? Oh~ I'm scared," he says as he tosses a few coins to the merchant who stands there distraught.

"You should be," you say before instantly regretting your words, realizing how stupid you sound.

"Oh you're so cute," he chuckles and your cheeks grow pink. His eyes flutter down from your pink cheeks to your neck. His smirk faded to a stern look as he followed the chain around your neck, to the top of your dress, his eyes ever so slightly peering down your dress. You cover your chest and look away from him. He puts his hand on your waist and pulls you close. You gasp and put your hands on his chest. He notices a ring on your ring finger, silver with a blue gem in the center of it. He lets go of your waist and grabs your wrist, examining the ring on your finger.

You look at him sternly and he looks into your eyes. His eyes suddenly avert behind you to see a few soldiers. "I look forward to this," he smirks when the soldiers come up behind you.

"Who is this?" Herrington says in a loud voice, trying to stand his ground. You sigh and turn around to look at your Fiancé. You force a smile as you look at him.

"He's just a man I bumped into by accident," you chuckle with an innocent smile, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

"Let go of my wife," Herrington says in a strong voice trying to intimidate the man holding you. The man scoffed and let your hand down.

"I'm not your wife," you mumble and the strange man looks at you with curious eyes. Herrington grabs you and examines you carefully.

"Are you alright Y/N?" He says as he runs his hands over your body. You look away from him.

"I'm alright," you say in a lifeless tone. Herrington holds you close to him as a soldier points a gun at the man. You look concerned as they point the gun at him.

"What's with the guns~?" He mocks as he puts his hands on his hips. "I haven't done anything wrong, I paid for my food, I conversed with the princess for a moment, and now I'm on my merry way," he says as he turns around putting his hands up.

"He's right," you nod up at Herrington.

"He's armed!" Herrington calls out and gestures to the sword case on his left hip. The man quickly grabs the sword and points it at the soldiers. The dull wooden tip pointing to their guns.

"It's wood," he chuckles. "I use it to teach kids how to use swords," he laughs and puts the sword back in its case before walking off to find his crew of men who ran away earlier. Herrington encourages you to come back with him to the castle as he reminds you to never go outside without protection. As you walk back you look down at your ring, the blue gem glistening in the sunlight.

[Time skip]

That night you lay in bed. Your hand is raised above your head as you admire the ring. A maid rolls in a tray with tea and biscuits on it. "I heard about your encounter with Seonghwa earlier today," the maid says as she waits for you to sit up. You fix your nightgown and look at her surprised.

"Seonghwa? Like the pirate?" You ask confused as she offers you the teacup.

"Yes, princess. I was told by Prince Herrington that he was holding you in the street, interrogating you," she says in a worried tone as you take a sip of your tea.

"He didn't seem like Seonghwa, I thought he was just some man," you say as you look at the specs of leaves in your tea. "He was very well dressed for a pirate," you explain before looking at the maid. She takes your cup and offers you a small plate of biscuits. "I guess that explains his inappropriate behavior," you sigh before taking a bite of the biscuit.

"Oh? If you don't mind me asking, princess, what did he do?" The maid sits next to you on the bed. You clear your throat and prepare to speak.

"He looked down the top of my chest," you say as you rub your upper chest and the maid's eyes widen.

"Oh my," she gasps. "How vile, I'm so sorry for you," she says as she places her hand on your leg comfortingly. You shrug and pick up the teacup. "Well, you need to get some rest for your big day tomorrow. I'll be in my room if you need anything," she says before wheeling the trolls back out to the hallway, closing the door behind herself. You finish your tea and look at the canvas in the corner of your room. How different things would be if you hadn't gone out today, if you hadn't got mad at your painting, what would've happened? You sigh blow out your candle and lie down.

Your mind races with the memories of Seonghwa. His eyes, his touch, his voice when he spoke to you, the way his body was drawn to you like a magnet, his lips inches from yours. You daydreamed about someday meeting him again...

[flowersandshadows112]

Can we talk about how the song “Michelle Pfeiffer” by Ethel Cain (after Rain by the Sleep Token)is the ultimate Elriel song? 🥹🥀

The lyrics though:

And everything's easier way out west

Wholly mad and half undressed

I love the way it always feels to miss you

I tell all my friends every thing you do

A sick obsession that I still try to prove

And it's no good, 'cause who am I without you

And home's not home unless you're there

And I'll never be ready but I don't care

Wide awake all night thinking about you

Do you think of me too?

I hate to let you go, but if I don't then we both know

I'll bury us both, fed to the night (as ghosts)

I keep on losing track of time

'Cause what's the point if you're not by my side?

I told my mom about you, she just laughed

Driving with my eyes closed, hope I crash

Maybe we could be together in another life

Maybe this could be forever in another timeline

But right now, I gotta pack my bags

And I won't even miss you tomorrow

'Cause home's not home unless you're there

And I'll never be ready but I don't care

Wide awake all night thinking about you

Do you think of me too?

I hate to let you go, but if I don't then we both know

I'll bury us both, fed to the night as ghosts

Washed out days and stone cold nights

Best goddamn days of your whole life

Jack the car and let it ride

Kicking it, baby, we'll survive

I'm all run and you're all fight (fight)

Tangling with Jesus Christ

Total ruin idolized

But the kids will be alright

'Cause home's not home unless you're there

And I'll never be ready but I don't care

Wide awake all night thinking about you

Do you think of me too?

I hate to let you go, but if I don't then we both know

I'll bury us both, fed to the night as ghosts (as ghosts)

🎨Art by: Clarywhy

[ataraxiaspainting]

The End.

Yan Kafka x F Reader.

Synopsis: Kafka always sits in the front row, despite being part of the show herself.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, thoughts of violence, manipulation, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 1k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Breezeblocks by alt-J

Waltz No. 2 by Dmitri Shostakovich (feat. The Dixie String Quartet)

Swan Lake by HAUSER

Claus by Los Tres

Doin’ Time by Lana Del Ray

Lie by BTS

She’s My Collar by Gorillaz (feat. Kali Uchis)

Cha Cha by Freddie Dredd

Michelle by Sir Chloe

MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name) - SATAN’S EXTENDED VERSION by Lil Nas X

*~*~*~*

The roses are wilting.

It was destiny, fate. Such pretty things never last forever, after all, even if the entire universe wished otherwise. One way or another, they are meant to fall, like how the sun drops below where anyone can see it, being replaced with the moon, and vice versa. They fall deep, deeper than hell itself, and no one can pick them back up, unless one would be inclined to make a pact with the devil himself, doing horrendous things in his name. But Kafka has already committed such sins, so why deny doing so any longer? It is who she is. It is who you are, to be entangled in her lies and be forced to dance and to sing and to act.

With two gloved hands, she picks up the vase, spilling out the moldy water and the dying roses, the roses she got for you after you sang so well at the opera house, looking so beautiful, into the trash can underneath your makeup vanity, where little clumps of hair and emptied products always meet their end.

She’ll get you a new bouquet later. A new vase too. Perhaps instead of white roses you would like red ones instead? Kafka knows that this vase is cheap too, from one of your fellow divas, whose high notes are not as high as yours and her costumes not as elaborate or as elegant as yours.

“I honestly don’t see why you even try to befriend any of them, darling. They are all envious harpies. They can’t hold a candle to anything you do.”

You are not here, but Kafka’s mouth always has a mind of its own, so it spins lies even when your delicate, lovely ears are not in the general vicinity. Not that she minds it. But yours is what she is quite more so than trifles with, because yours is carefully controlled by her and her alone, and you, as always, don’t get a say. It’s a sort of hypocrisy, Kafka thinks, but she doesn't mind that either.

If she has to, she’ll even sew your mouth shut, your ears shut, your eyes shut, if that is what it takes for you to stay with her. She doubts it would ever come to that, though, because you are always too fragile and too trusting to tell the difference between an Iago and a Desdemona. But the latter role would much better suit you, her little flower, her princess.

You are so precious, but also a treasure prying eyes will always want to touch and see and hear. Kafka would, in all honesty, love to cut their hands and tongues off, if it did not ruin the carefully crafted image she made just for you. Maybe later, though, when all the stage lights are off.

“Lady Macbeth, hmm?” She murmurs.

She disagrees with the role you were given entirely. But, you were not one to stand up for yourself, so Kafka let it go. 

“You really ought to leave this business soon, dearest.” Kafka looks around, her arms crossed, not impressed with the room you were given in the slightest. “You can always just come with me.” She meant it. “Imagine all the sights you would see. All the food you would eat. All the gifts I would be so happy to give you. All the hugs and kisses you would receive from me. Everything… just think about it.”

She could imagine it herself. It is not hard, really, for the mind to reject all sense of logic and bow down to the whim of what is known as human emotions, mortal joys, woes, desires, wants, and needs. She could imagine sitting you on her lap as the ship jumps to the next world she will have to visit, telling you stories of the past, present, and future, as you look on with amazement. You don’t do that anymore, now. She would do anything to see it come back. She would steal a crown and place it on your head, though you having the genuine article does not make you any stronger. If anything, perhaps it would make you weaker to her whims.

“Imagine that…” She sighs, closing her eyes as she smiles. “We can go to Penacony. Your dreams would come true there if I cannot make them true myself. You can sleep on beds worth more than this entire opera house. If only you would let me. I know it would make you happy. I know it would make me happy. So why wouldn’t it make you?”

She would listen to your ultimate pains, and your ultimate wishes, and act accordingly. She loved you. You will too, again. It is only a matter of time, isn’t it? Yes, Kafka thinks, it is fate. 

…

Kafka always sits in the front row of the theater.

It does not matter whether or not she purchased the tickets for it, the seat, or the show soon to come to fruition. No one dares talk back to her, even security. She finds comfort in that. No one gets in the way of her having the chance to see you. Better yet, no one else sits in the front row when she is present.

So, she watches, one of her legs crossed over the other, her eyes never blinking. During interludes she likes to adjust her makeup accordingly, painting on another shade of crimson to her lips. Art comes in many forms, after all.

Kafka told you that once. As always, you listened dutifully as she taught you to be.

She taught you many things, not just that. She taught you how to read constellations. She helped you learn her vocabulary in the books she gave you, often long fairytales or poems. She preferred it that way when you used to be so eager to have someone be friendly to you and not want to simply use you for their own amusement, not wanting to throw you out of the opera house altogether.

The opera house may rot after it goes up in flames, in the future, if things go her way as it always does, but she’ll stay to watch it all, to take you in as you cry and as she shushes you. She’ll be happy. Maybe you will be too, for her. It matters how good your performance is, if you even want to act anymore, after all.

The lights dim, and she shows her pearl-white teeth as she grins.

[peterparkouryo]

beneath the surface | ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

prompt; Peter faces a hard battle, one to which he loses.

warnings: angst, mention of death and violence

word count: 3.0k

disclaimer: i legit have not seen nwh in two years, i had to literally make this story based off a summarization from google. i apologize its so bad i had no patience to rewatch the movie.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist

Someone once told you that, even when something slips your mind, trust that it will find its way back to you. You always deemed this true, everything always sought out to swivel into your prosperity no matter how impossible you thought it to be.

It was like you were a ladybug, always lucky. Well, you'd like to think that was the case, in reality it wasn't even close. The past few months were hell. Not only for you, but for your best friend Peter Parker.

He had to deal with the heavy weight instantaneously put upon his shoulders. The consequence of figuring out how to live a life he wrestled so hard to keep private. You knew Peter thought the burden of the entire world perceiving his double life drained him completely. It was not as if he had cut everyone who already knew of him being Spider-Man out his life, no, if anything it only made him want to protect them more. 

The hardship the poor boy went through in just the last few months made your heart ache, knowing how difficult it was for him to function without the help of his mentor. You reached out to Peter every single day, making sure he remembered there were people who cared for him and he could turn to.

As for you, being a friend of Spider-Man (or as Ned likes to say, "F.O.S") is a tough task. The stares you received not only in school, but in public were haunting. You knew everyone was judging you for being involved with who they believed was a murderer. It was nauseating to even think about, because Peter is anything but that. He's kind, caring, and modest. The boy couldn't even kill a fly if the opportunity was presented to him.

No one understood the boy, now that the secret was out. The whole world was against him, or at least majority of the world. Michelle informed you that he didn't really enjoy this particular version of fame he gained, and you couldn't help but agree.

When you heard of Peter's visit with Doctor Strange, you learn he tried in his own way to make things right again. He asked the wizard (who you didn't think was very kind based off your brief interaction with him) to cast a spell that would make the whole world forget he was Spider-Man in hopes that he could reverse what ruined you and your friends' chances of getting into college.

Peter being Peter finds a way to mess it up, which not only decreased his chances of ever having the world forget of his vigilance, but he apparently opened the multiverse. It allowed villains who knew of your friend being Spider-Man from other universes to enter your world, and the entire thing was damn near impossible to believe.

At first, you couldn't wrap your head around anything that was told to you, that was until Peter shows you proof of his encountrment with a man with literal mechanical octopus arms, a dinosaur—or more appropriately, a lizard, a man made of sand, and another one who produced electricity from his body.

Your friend felt responsible to help them. After learning their fates, which meant if he sent any of them back to their respectable worlds, they'd die. It wasn't an ideal situation, and Peter was noble, too noble. He wanted to cure them, to give them a second chance.

Reluctantly, you accepted his wishes of wanting you, MJ, and Ned's help, because he was your friend and if wanting to cure random villains from different universes cleared his mind of the world knowing his second life, then you'd be right by his side.

You thought the whole mission to cure would be an easy task, but you were so, so wrong.

Ned offered you and MJ to stay with him at his Nona's while Peter handled the more difficult part of the curing obstacle, and later that night is where you and your friends discovered the horrible, devastating news.

A anarchic consequence. Looking at the TV where the news played, you absorb the information of May's death. You didn't want to believe the details you consumed, because May was almost like a mother to you, and she loved you as much as she loved Peter. You did not even want to think about what was going through Peter's mind, and you just hope the poor boy was not spiralling. 

If you know your best friend, you know that when he spirals, he often isolates himself from everyone and everything. It's a habit you wish he would break, but you suppose anything as heart aching as losing your mother like figure, the choice of isolation is certainly necessary.

You and MJ argue with Ned of wanting to find Peter, making sure he was okay. Before the two of you could walk out the door, Ned reveals that he was in possession of Doctor Strange's sling ring Peter had given him. He concocted the idea that with the ring, it would be easier to find Peter. 

Sharing a look with MJ, you shrug and allow Peter's other best friend to give his idea a shot.

However, when Ned tries to use the ring and concentrates on wanting to find Peter, he finds two older versions of him.

You were in utter awe at this revelation. Two other variants of your best friend almost felt like a dream you could not wake up from.

Eventually after what seemed forever you finally find your Peter, on the roof of your school. When you hug him, immediately engulfing him in your warmth, he breaks down in your arms. It broke your heart, to see Peter so dejected. You wanted to take the pain away. Wanted to remind him that no matter what, you would be there.

The two other Peter's connect and share similar experiences, and encourage your friend to continue fighting.

After the words of encouragement, a new plan came about and Peter, you and your friends team up with the two other world Spider-Men to develop a more strategized cure for the villains.

Finally, you were all lead to the final confrontation at the Statue of Liberty, which is being renovated into Caption America's shield, in honour of him you assume. 

MJ, Ned and yourself manage to help Peter cure the multiverse villains, but not without obvious obstacles. The difficult of such tasks lead to an almost devastating conclusion. The last villain, being the Green Goblin was twisted, wicked even. You pursued that he was the reason for May's life being taken. In the final moments of the battle, the Green Goblin's aggression reaches its peak. 

His aggressive tactics, throwing pumpkin bombs and using his glider caused a significant amount of damage to the structure of the Statue of Liberty. Almost concluded in the death of your friend MJ. Thankfully the second eldest Peter caught your friend in time, but unfortunately for you as the structure falls, along with the shield, so do you.

Death for you, never was a thing you'd think about too often. Sometimes maybe a second thought, but not mindful enough to be taken serious. Sure, you wondered what it would feel like, or even be. Once you die, would you fall into an endless sleep, or would you see nothing forever? As you fell, death was all you could think about, of course. You hope once you reach the bottom of your fate, you wouldn't have to feel the pain and the demise would swallow you right away. You also hoped that Peter somehow, once you were gone, knew how much he meant to you. Knew how much you loved him as more than a friend.

As cliche as it is to be in love with your best friend, you fantasized the intention of being with him no matter how hard you didn't want to, knowing you shouldn't be allowed to even feel as much love for him as you did.

Deep down, you knew Peter deserves to be loved, and you were glad he found it within you, platonically. You could die happy with that acknowledgement.

Before the dark angel could even reach its hand out to you, you drop into familiar arms. Peter quickly swings you to the now fallen shield, holding you as you register the last thirty seconds, the cogs turning in your brain. You stare at your friend like a deer in headlights as he carefully puts you down.

Surely you thought death was on the doorstep.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his gaze carefully supervising your every move.

You nod your response as you look around, allowing your heavy breathing to mellow out.

"I thought—" You start as Peter steps closer.

"I know, I know. You're okay." He reassures, and you examine him, noticing his right eye. Blood invaded around his pupil and you scan the rest of his features, the identical crimson red colour decorated his face as well as a few bruises.

You hug the boy without a second thought, and in turn he accepts. 

When Peter pulls away, you feel the word vomit take over you, and you open your mouth to say something.

Before the words you so desperately wanted to say could leave you, you glance behind Peter at the man responsible for May's death, a shiver running down your spine when as you feel a almost sinister shift in the air overtake.

Peter taking notice of your expression turns around in confusion.

It was almost uncanny, frightening and astonishing how swiftly you watch Peter's mood change from concern to instant anger. Not the typical anger someone feels, no, you could practically endure his revise. The boy looked murderous. The switch being so drastically different to the Peter you thought you knew made you question if you even knew him at all. 

This was the same Peter Parker who you believed would never hurt a fly, the same Peter Parker who did not even want to idealize the concept of murder. Yet, here he was standing in front of you with a rage so intense, you step back in fear of what was to come.

"Poor Peter. Too weak to send me home to die." The Green Goblin grin was troublesome as he spoke.

"No," You friend starts. "I just wanna kill you myself." Peter's was raspy and low with anger.

“Attaboy.” The man grinned.

Enraged, Peter rushes at the Green Goblin, and boy do they clash. Your eyes widen at the scene taking place in front of you. The spider-boy pummels him with a murderous intensity. The Goblin breaks free, releasing his arm blades and swings them at your friend. 

You gasp in horror, completely frozen. Watching such an extreme unfold before you was mind boggling, and the thoughts creeping in your head made you want to try and do something, but what could you do? Peter had the upper hand and it was brutal, so of course you were stuck in place out of fear.

Peter batters the Goblin until he's down on his knees, and unfortunately for the villain more barrage of punches given from the boy are received and the Goblin collapses to the ground, spent.

The fearsome inside of you increased and for some reason, tears threatened your eyes. You never really were a crier, but watching your best friend lay into Goblin, who took punch after punch caused unwanted emotions to course through you. You were so beyond scared at the person you swore you understood.

Observing the Goblin carefully, you don't realize your Peter grab the villain's glider, which was crashed at the base of the shield. 

He drifts towards the Goblin, murder in his eyes, lifting the glider over his head and you register the fact that he had no intentions of coming to his senses. 

Peter screams, unrelenting, about to bring the gleaming blade down on the helpless villain.

"Peter—" You cry as the much older version of himself steps in front of your Peter, a pleading look on his face, one you recognize.

Slowly, your friend snaps out of his angry, murderous intentions and relaxes. You observe the wordless understanding between the two Peter Parkers.

Shunk.

The familiar welch of skin being stabbed fills your ears, and the oldest Peter's face falls.

A grimace etches on your face, watching the Goblin stab the elder Spider-Man in the back.

The pumpkin bomb throwing villain staggers upright as his victim falls before him, clearly eager for more. He glances at you, and you take a unconscious step back, despite being at a safe distance already.

You could tell the man was taunting Peter as he looks over at him again.

"She was there because of you." The Goblin smiles, and Peter faces him, eyes narrowing.

"I may have struck the blow, but you." He laughs. "You are the one that killed her." The goblin cackles with glee at his own words.

You gaze at Peter just in time, eyeing as the second oldest version of himself throws the Goblin's cure, your Peter grabs it and briskly stabs the cackling villain in the neck. You watch the man stagger, shocked and in pain.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Goblin falls back on his haunches, then a glint of recognition settles within him.

"Peter?" Norman stares at your friend in confusion as his eyes drift down to an injured version of your Peter, and if you didn't know any better, the look on his face seemed almost remorseful.

"What have I done?" 

Eventually after all villains are cured, you step back to let your friend have his heart to heart moment with the other versions of himself. The only thing you wanted to do was search for MJ and Ned, hoping them to be okay.

However, your thought train is interrupted as your friend approaches you.

"I have a plan," Is the first thing he says to you once he's close.

"You have a plan?" You furrow your eyebrows.

Peter nods and he stares at you for a good while and he clears his throat.

"The sky—" He cuts himself off and you drag your gaze to the purple cracks in the sky as vague figures catch your attention.

"Are those..." You trail off and look at your defeated friend.

"I'm going to get Doctor Strange to cast another spell." Peter informs you and you're skeptical, but somewhere in your brain you figure it probably has something to do with getting rid of whatever was in the sky.

"Okay." You nod.

Peter sighs and shakes his head, like you were not understanding what it was he was trying to say. 

"Don't be mad."

"Why would I be mad?"

"I'm going to ask him to make everyone forget who I am." He says, and you tilt your head in confusion.

"Like the same spell you already tried?" Peter shakes his head at your question and reaches for your hands.

"No, I mean, me. Peter Parker."

You feel your heart drop to your stomach at his words. Still, not completely understanding what it is he was trying to tell you, but if it's what you think it is, you sensed an unfamiliar feeling simmer.

"But that means I would—Ned and MJ." You stare at him in disbelief as he nods.

"I know, but I have to. I can't let anything else get out of control." Peter presses his lips together as he gauges your reaction to his words.

Ultimately, he was right. With the sky purple and cracked, and unwanted figures coming through, it was way out of control. You did not want to forget your friend before you could even confess your feelings for him. But you also did not want any more consequences for him to deal with.

Forgetting him meant forgetting everything you've been through with the boy. You couldn't bare the thought of losing someone you cared so much about. You did not even want to know what it's like to not have Peter in your life, not remembering him.

"I have to find Ned and MJ, to let them know as well." Peter states and you blink back into reality and gaze at him.

It was now or never, you thought.

"I'm in love with you." You blurt and you cringe at the five words and clear your throat before he could even respond. "I just thought you should know." You shrug and confidently never break eye contact with him.

You can tell Peter is racking your words through his brain, and you fear the worst as the silence becomes more prominent.

He mutters your name and pulls a strand of hair behind your ear. You were eager for heartbreak and you knew it didn't matter what his reply would be.

"I want you to know that I feel how you feel too." Peter reassures, and you gaze at him for a long while.

He feels how you feel too.

"And I promise," Peter's eyes never leave yours as he places his hands on both sides of your face. His touch was so gentle and reassuring that whatever he said next, you would believe him.

"I promise once this is all over, I will find you, and tell you everything." 

At his words, you hug him, not wanting to let go. You think to yourself and pray his words become true. You did not want to have to live a life without Peter.

Slowly he pulls away, and gives your forehead a kiss, replacing his touch with his own instead.

"I promise." Peter whispers.

Even when something slips your mind, trust that it will find its way back to you. You remind yourself of those words as you replay his promise in your head over and over again.

You remind yourself of those words when Peter swings away to find Ned and MJ.

You remind yourself of those words as you look up into the sky, detecting something so foreign course through you. Your mind alters into a different outlet.

You couldn't remember exactly what you were reminding yourself of, the thought completely lost from your subconscious. 

taglist: @victoriousskylar @imawhoreforu @myfangirlinessononeblog @astrogirl0666

shout out to the divider account: @saradika-graphics

[hotmessmaxpress]

Rosquez Horror Au, Part 2

When the notification goes out it is met with groans and disappointment. 

Today’s sessions have been postponed indefinitely due to the rapid onset and opening of a Cavity. Expect more updates as the situation develops. Watch Your Step, Walk Carefully, and Stay Safe.

A safety alert goes out in the local area a few moments later, pinging into all cell phones. Some fans begin leaving the stands, while others wrap themselves in blankets and stay put.

Marc sighs, leaning back for a moment and staring at the ceiling of the garage. Conversation develops around him, debating whether it’s best to stay put or go back to the hotel. Frankie gets notification that the radius of the Anomaly isn’t that large, so some of the staff start to filter out and evacuate with the promise that they’ll stay tuned for a guidance to return. 

Michele offers for Marc and Alex to go with the staff back to their hotel, but Marc shakes his head. 

“I’ll go back to the trailer.”

Frankie seems apprehensive at that, but shrugs.

“Keep your eyes and ears open. We can’t have you going Misplaced.”

Marc grins. 

“What would you do without me?”

“We don’t want to find out,” Michele offers, before making his way out of the garage quickly. Alex follows, but not before reminding Marc to keep his eyes peeled and stay in contact. 

The paddock is rapidly clearing out. Cavities aren’t something that always calls for an evacuation, especially if it’s only one, but some people prefer to keep it safe rather than sorry. 

Marc tries to grapple with the disappointment of having the race postponed. It’s hard to get pulled abruptly out of his racing mindset and then return to it later in the day. He finds himself for a moment hoping they’ll cancel the race, but shakes the thought from his head. They’ll only cancel the race if it becomes a security threat; right now they’re just playing it safe. After all, having a rider speed through a Cavity and disappear wouldn’t be ideal. 

Marc heads out of the garage and heads toward his motorhome. He considers texting Vale to ask him what he’s doing, but he’s apprehensive. Since they’ve rekindled this thing between them, Marc has been trying to keep a careful distance from the older man; to play it cool. 

It’s not working. Marc has always been entirely too obsessed with Vale for his own good, and now that he is allowed to talk to Vale again it’s all he wants to do. He wants to talk to him about everything all the time. 

Still, he doesn’t want Vale to become annoyed by him. Vale himself even said that he is still working through his anger. Marc worries that the more he bothers Vale the more likely he is to inadvertently reignite the man’s anger. Marc would never forgive himself if he ruined his second chance with Vale demanding too much time and attention. 

Marc is nearing his motorhome when his phone vibrates. As he takes it out of his pocket, he hears a whooshing sound, loud in the air like when the jets do flyovers before races. It’s followed by a boom, loud enough to rattle the metal stairs of the motorhome closest to him. 

He steps forward and looks to his right, where he can see through a gap out into an open area between garages and motorhomes. 

A Cavity has opened, and Marc gasps as he sees a woman in Pramac purple scramble away from it. Time feels like it slows as he watches her get up to try and run. He knows without a  doubt that she’s too close, and it’s too big, but he holds his breath.

Long black arms stretch from the Cavity, shooting through the air like ropes. A hand wraps around her ankle, and another around her neck. Another wraps around her waist, holding her in place as she tries to scream and fight. She kicks and flails but they’re holding her too tightly, and the hand around her neck tightens. Marc sees her eyes bulge as it cuts off her oxygen. 

The arms drag her backward before Marc can suck in another breath. 

He backs away slowly, hoping that this one is sated for now. The edges of the black hole quiver and shake, flickering like a candle, and then it seems to suck all sound out of the area as it collapses in on itself and disappears with a hiss. Marc stands silently for a few long moments, feeling as if his lungs aren’t drawing in enough oxygen. He feels like one of the arms is wrapped around his chest, though he knows it isn’t. 

He says a quick prayer for the Pramac woman, casting his eyes upward. 

“Marc!” a voice hisses. 

Marc violently startles, jerking backward. He turns toward the voice to find Vale, huffing as if he’s been running. 

“They’re getting worse,” Vale says flatly. “We need to leave.”

Marc isn’t going to argue. He follows Vale, who leads him between motor homes toward the parking. 

“Did you see-” Marc starts, brain now trying to process what he saw happen to the Pramac woman. 

Vale turns to glance at him, concern flitting across his face, and Marc loses the words he was trying to say. He doesn’t think he can speak about what he just saw without taking time to process it, and time is something that isn’t on their side right now. He takes Vale’s hand instead, and Vale squeezes it as he tugs Marc along. 

They’re near the gate when a loud crack pierces the air. Marc lets go of Vale’s hand, stumbling as the earth around them seems to rock and shake. 

He falls, landing on his backside and looking up at Valentino. Vale steps toward him, but retreats as the earth between them splits and widens, opening into a chasm deep down into the earth. It shimmers and fills with darkness.

“Run!” Vale yells, as the crack in the earth between them widens further. Arms reach up from the depths of the Cavity, reaching for them. 

Marc drags himself to his feet, scratching his knees and palms in the process. Vale runs toward the parking, and Marc runs in the opposite direction, deeper into the paddock. 

He weaves between motorhomes until he can’t breathe anymore, and he finally slows down enough to turn and check behind him. He can’t see the hands reaching for him, but he hears a scream. The blood pounds in his ears as he prays that it wasn’t Vale; wasn’t someone he loves. 

A siren sounds across the paddock, finally announcing that the situation has gotten out of hand. Marc’s heart sinks. If they’re sounding the sirens it means an evacuation; the situation is going to get worse, not better. The disembodied voice of the emergency announcement system echoes across the landscape. 

“Attention all drivers, staff, and guests. Cavities are opening at random across the area. These Cavities present an immediate threat to health and safety. Local law enforcement and the Anomaly Bureau have issued an immediate evacuation order. Please proceed cautiously to the nearest exit and move as far away as you are able. Watch Your Step, Walk Carefully, and Stay Safe. Repeat. Attention all drivers, staff, and guests. Cavities are opening at random across the area. These Cavities present an immediate threat to health and safety. Local law enforcement and the Anomaly Bureau have issued an immediate evacuation order. Please proceed cautiously to the nearest exit and move as far away as you are able. Watch Your Step, Walk Carefully, and Stay Safe. May Mercy be with you all.”

“Fuck,” Marc says aloud, taking off again. 

He hears another boom, somewhere off in the direction of the track, and then another, far behind him. It’s not a good sign that they’re opening so quickly. He has a moment of regret for not agreeing to leave with Michele, Alex, and Frankie. 

He needs to find Vale and evacuate. The smart thing to do would be for him to evacuate and then try to meet up with Vale, but as another shout echoes from the track Marc can’t help but want the older man in his sight. 

He finds a corner to hide in, and calls Vale. 

Vale doesn’t pick up the first time, so Marc calls again. The call connects on the first ring this time, and Vale sounds out of breath once again. 

“Where are you?” 

Marc looks around. 

“Ducati hospitality,” he wheezes in response. 

Vale swears loudly on the other end of the phone. Marc hears a boom from the other line and holds his breath as he waits to make sure Vale is safe. 

“I’m coming to you,” Vale huffs. “Don’t move.”

The line drops, and Marc swallows thickly as he hears a crack nearby. He sees around the corner as a crack appears in a nearby building, hands stretching out blindly. Marc drops to the ground, squeezing himself under a metal box attached to the side of the red hospitality building. 

He knows the Cavities don’t see; he could be perfectly hidden and they’d still find him if they wanted him, but hiding feels like the right thing to do. It feels slightly safer to make himself small like this. 

It reminds him of playing hide and seek with Alex when they were little, wedging himself into tight spaces and making it impossible for anyone to find him. He tucks his face against his knees, and squeezes them as he hears a blood-curdling scream from nearby. His heartbeat pounds in his chest. 

He thinks of the Pramac woman and wonders where she is. Being Misplaced can mean a lot of things; he wonders if her family will ever see her again, and if they do, will she be the same as she was before?

Alex had a friend named Manuel when they were growing up who carried his dog everywhere. Marc remember’s scratching its scruffy face as he watched his baby brother race. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he remembers one weekend Manuel showed up without the dog. 

“Where is he?” Marc had asked innocently. 

Manuel made a face that Marc hadn’t been able to recognize at the time; grief. He pretended as if he hadn’t heard Marc, and when Marc opened his mouth to ask again, Alex took his hand and gripped it so tight that it hurt. Marc jerked his arm away, but was silent at the serious look on his normally joyful baby brother’s face. 

He waited patiently until Manuel was gone, then asked Alex. 

“It was Misplaced,” Alex says uncomfortably. “And it came back–”

“That’s good!” Marc interrupts. Alex shakes his head.

“When it came back it was… different. It watched Manuel sleep and it never slept. It bit people and killed birds. He said that its eyes were different, and its teeth were longer. They, um, they had to get rid of it.”

Marc hopes the Pramac woman comes home like normal. 

He hears the quiet rumble of an engine, and when he looks up he sees Vale’s shoes. He drags himself up from his position to see Vale on a scooter, looking haggard. 

“Let’s go,” Vale says. Marc is only barely seated when Vale is off, pushing it to the very limits of its speed. Marc grips his waist, trusting Vale to get them out safely. He tucks his face against Vale’s back, trying not to listen to the cracks and booms they pass by. He tries to think of anything other than the screams of the Pramac woman and the scruffy face of Manuel’s dog all those years ago. 

He must have talked himself into some sort of trance, because the next thing he knows he and Vale are on the highway, passing through police evacuation checkpoints. Marc feels like his ears are stuffed with cotton, and he doesn’t let go of Vale even as the police look at him in concern. Whatever Vale tells them satisfies them, and then they’re off again. 

When they reach the hotel, Marc has difficulty standing off the scooter. His eyes are dry from the speed they rode here at, and his face feels dirty. His hands are shaking desperately. 

“We are okay,” Vale says gently. “We are out of the radius.”

“The Pramac woman,” Marc says, nonsensically. “Will she be okay?”

Vale doesn’t answer, but he tugs Marc against his chest. He wraps an arm tightly around his waist and cups the back of his head with another, holding Marc entirely too tenderly for where they’re standing. 

Eventually he stops shaking so hard and Vale releases him. 

He holds Marc’s face gently in his hands for a moment, and then presses a soft kiss to his lips. 

“We’re okay,” he repeats. 

Marc follows him through the hotel to Vale’s room, taking out his phone in the elevator to check in with Alex and the others. He informs them that he’s at Vale’s hotel, and they’re all happy to know he’s safe. Michele informs him that the race will probably be cancelled altogether due to the volume of Anomalies. 

He stays within arm’s reach of Vale, and if Vale is bothered by it he doesn’t say. He just silently starts the shower for both of them, herding Marc in and then following closely behind. He takes care of Marc, washing his hair and keeping his hands on him. 

Marc still feels stuck in a haze, unable to keep his mind off the Pramac woman. He lets Vale wash him and dry him off, and he slips into one of Vale’s sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers. The sweatshirt is a little more snug on him than it is on Vale, but it’s still comfortable enough for Marc to join Vale in bed. 

Vale is quiet, and Marc wonders what’s running through his head.

“I was so afraid of losing you,” Vale finally says. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Marc is a little shocked by that statement. 

“You got us both out,” he responds. 

Vale is silent for another long moment. 

“I can’t ever lose you again.”

Marc isn’t sure if he’s talking about being separated by the Cavity or by Sepang, but he agrees. He doesn’t ever want to let Vale go.

[fandomnerd9602]

Prom-posal

Fem!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

You and Petra both could not believe it. You had proposed to her, and despite everything she had said yes honestly the thought of it still made Petra smile a little more and more.

She found herself screaming in delight while working a shift at the Moondance diner, she was so giddy at the mere thought of it.

Any normal girl would consider herself lucky for the fact that she was marrying a stark meaning that she would want for nothing in the world. Not Petra, she was excited because she was marrying her best friend.

She couldn’t help but squeal in delight. She grabbed Betty’s hand and jumped around in the kitchen. And then her boss, Enrique, had to interrupt.

“Yo! Parker! What’s with the jumpin’ jacks?!” his voice thundered.

“Enrique! I’m engaged!” Petra shouted back, excited as ever.

“Yeah. Yeah we all saw the scene.” the man just went back to the grill.

Petra was beyond excited for her marriage to you.

Meanwhile you were with Harley Keener, trying to begin planning the party and ceremony.

“I screwed up” you said kind of upset.

“How?” the young inventor asked with a smirk, “you’re marrying Petra Parker.”

“I ruined my proposal to my best friend”

“Second best friend!” Harley interrupted jokingly.

“I mean…I proposed to her before she even had our prom.” An idea popped into your head, “prom! I need to make my prom-posal to her even more special!”

“Well don’t over think it. And don’t under think it either” your pal offers. “Who can help us?”

Only one name came to mind: Ned Leeds

Would it qualify as kidnapping as to how you got Ned to help you? Put it simply, you saw him walking down the street after school, grabbed him by the backpack and flew back to the Avengers Tower.

“Mr. (Y/N) Stark, sir” Ned said after landing, “that was bot the most terrifying and awesome experience of my life”

“Ned I need your help” you tried to explain only for Harley to come flying in with Michelle in his arms.

“Dude that was weird” Michelle grumbled.

“I need both of you to help me” you tried to explain, “Petra deserves a prom-posal as awesome as her and I’m clueless”

“Whipped” Michelle said jokingly.

“Petra loves Star Wars! And so do i” Ned said with a little nervousness.

“Okay but why?” Michelle asked

“Because I love her and I screwed up the actual marriage proposal” you answered back

“Why?”

“Because she’s the best thing ever in my life and I-I couldn’t think straight when I saw her smile”

“Why” Michelle giggled

“Are you gonna help me or not?!”

“Yeah sure” she said nonchalantly.

That night Petra swung to her apartment and snuck in thru the window, trying to be as quiet as a mouse…or even a spider.

Then aunt May’s voice broke the silence, “Petra, honey, can you come into the living room?”

Busted. Petra thought to herself. She switched into her favorite pair of sweats and hoodie and walked into her living room.

The stereo was playing ‘Always and Forever’ softly. The whole living room was decorated like the Ewok village from Return of the Jedi.

You stood there with a bouquet of flowers and a small smile on your face. “Hey there Spider Monkey” you said softly.

“Hey you” she answered back.

“Petra, I love you so much” you said, “I know I screwed up my proposal and all but-”

“You didn’t.” She answered back with a giggle. “I thought it was just right. I wanna spend my life with you, (Y/N)”

“I wanna spend my life with you too.” You held up the flowers, “and I want to spend prom with you as well. Will you go to prom with me?”

Petra stood there, tears forming in her eyes. She ran forward and jumped into your arms. “Yes. yes! Yes to everything!” she giggled before kissing you. Somehow each kiss with you felt like the first.

Ned, Harley and Michelle each appeared with their own lightsabers and threw confetti.

“Finally.” Michelle said with a little smile.

“Look at my best friend” Ned said with his own smile. “Do you think Y/N will let me be best man?”

“I called dibs dude!” Harley immediately shouted back.

“How about dude of honor?”

“I’ll allow it.”

Not that you or Petra had noticed the argument. The two of you were so busy, lost in each other, lost in this small, infinite moment of happiness.

Tags: @ma1egamer @jacenradio7 @deafeningsharkslimeempath @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @supercorpdanbeau @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @russianredassassin @revanshand @iamnicodemus @multi-fandom-enjoyer

[ironbabey]

Unimportant

Word Count: 2.5k

TW: Angst, fighting, reader is pretty mean, drinking, fluffy ending though

YU pronounced "you", I prefer that over typing y/n

~~~~

You’ve called him 35 times within the hour. 

35 times did you hear that same voicemail, Hey it’s Peter! If I missed your call, it’s probably because I'm out with my amazing girlfriend! Leave a message!...BEEP

Yeah, he’s supposed to be with you but he’s not. 

Sometimes you feel bad for getting upset but boy does it hurt your heart when he doesn’t show up to anything you guys planned to do because apparently Spider-Man just needs to be everywhere. You thought you’d feel proud because he was willing to drop everything to help but why wasn’t he willing to drop anything for you? 

“Hey, Peter, sorry for calling so many times. I thought you’d like to know that I’m just gonna go home. I’ll see you later…bye.” You fought against the tears as you hung up, finally standing up from your seat at some cheesy little restaurant you didn’t remember the name of and headed home. 

How cliche is it that it started to rain on your short walk back? 

You opened the door to your shared apartment and threw your wet coat onto the couch and took a seat.

Your roommate was in the kitchen and greeted you, “How was the date?” Michelle asked, taking one look at your face, “He didn’t show up? Again?” 

She walked out of the kitchen with two plates, “Is it sad to say I expected it? I even made your favorite.” She said, setting the plate down in front of you. 

“I just don’t understand, am I not important?” You choked, finally letting the tears roll down your cheeks, “Does he not love me anymore?” 

MJ put her own plate down and hugged you as tight as she could. She knew about Peter being Spider-Man and she also knew that he was the dumbest person ever. She let you cry it all out and boy did you cry. 

~~~

Peter fucked up, he fucked up real bad. 

He looked at the missed calls on his phone as he stood outside the closed restaurant he was supposed to be at 3 hours ago. The flowers in his hand were soaked and ruined by the rain along with his apology. 

He was going to be there on time, he even watched you from across the street as you entered the doors but before he could call out to you his spidey senses went off and he had to go. He wanted to call you, text you even, but the fight was with the Lizard who escaped the R.A.F.T.. 

“Hey, Peter, sorry for calling so many times. I thought you’d like to know that I’m just gonna go home. I’ll see you later…bye.

He heard the pain in your voice, the disappointment in him. You didn’t say the usual ‘I love you’ before you hung up. Could he blame you though? He’s lost count on how many times he’s abandoned you and how many times you’ve forgiven him, but recently he’s noticed you were getting tired of it. Peter knows this could be the last straw. When you guys first started dating it was in highschool, things were easier then. There were no big bad guys to fight and he never missed a date unless he really needed to. He remembered how understanding and forgiving you were then. Now, he prays you still are.

He swung to your place as fast as he could, thinking of a million ways to make it up to you. He’d do anything if it meant you’d forgive him. 

He made it to your kitchen window and overheard Michelle say she was going to grab ‘break-up’ snacks from the store down the block. 

Break-up? 

No no no. 

He waited for the girl to leave before knocking on the window. 

~~~

Your heart dropped. Peter looked at you with the saddest look and you dare felt pity for him. He didn’t wait for an answer and slid the window open, “Hey.” 

You sniffed, “Hey.” 

Peter made his way to you, soaking the floor with every step and with his arms stretched out, “Look, YU, I didn’t–” 

You took a step back, “No, please Peter, no. You’re the last person I want to see right now.” 

Ouch, that hurt. 

Peter’s eyes were getting glossy as he put his arms down. “Did she mean it? Are you breaking up with me?” He choked, “I’ll do–be better. I promise.” 

“You make that promise every time, Pete.” You sniffled, your eyes burning from all the crying, “I’m so tired of feeling unimportant to you.” 

Peter felt like the biggest asshole on the planet, he never wanted to make you feel like this. You’re everything to him. 

“I’ll do anything to make it up to you babe–” 

“Don’t call me that! You’ve lost every right to call me anything other than my name! Do you know how many times you’ve left me waiting for you? How many places I refuse to go to because they’ll know me as the girl who waited hours for a guy that never showed up?” You snapped, the anger pouring out of you all at once, ”The first few times when we were in highschool were okay, we were trying to figure it out. Now? It’s embarrassing. I hate the way you make me feel.” You stared at the ground, “I hate it.”

Your words dug their way into his heart, piercing it with every word. He never knew it was hurting you this bad, and by the time you looked back up at him, he was crying. 

“Bab–YU, I–I didn’t know. I’ll stop right now. I’ll hang up the suit.” 

You sighed, “I don’t want it to feel like it’s a choice between me and Spider-Man. The city isn’t your girlfriend, I am. Why can’t you drop everything and come to me sometimes? I understand you like to help but the NYPD is more than capable of stopping petty thefts without you. You’ve missed my birthday twice, our anniversary, and a family wedding because you chose to stop someone from jaywalking or something stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, YU. Today I had to lock Lizard back up–” 

“And what about last time? Huh? You just had to stop someone from shoplifting? Or the time before that when you didn’t show up because you thought someone was breaking and entering when really they just lost their keys?” You huffed, “Seems like you just don’t want to hangout with me. I don’t understand why you can’t ask one of your Avengers buddies to cover for you for one night.” 

Now Peter was just as mad as you were. You basically just said what he does is stupid. Deep down you knew he just likes to help but you just wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt you. 

“So now everything I do as Spider-Man means nothing? The Avengers have more important things to deal with, I can’t just ask them to do what I do.” He bit back, “Everything I do is to help the city as much as I can and here you are mad because I missed dinner.” 

“I’m mad because you don’t care!” 

Ding

You looked down at your phone and saw a message from Michelle. 

Let me know when to come back, unless you want me to kick him out.

Great. If she can hear you then your neighbors could too. 

He ran his fingers through his hair, “I do care! I just, I don’t know–.” 

You cut him off, “You care about the city more.” 

Please, make him leave.

The door swung open, an angry Michelle came walking in. 

Peter scoffed, “Are you serious? You send in backup instead of having a conversation with me?” 

Michelle set the bags down and rolled her sleeves up, “I don’t care if you have superpowers or not. This is my home and I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

“No problem, I’ll see myself out.” Peter huffed, heading towards the door, “So this is it? This is really how it’s going to end?” 

“I guess so.” 

He gave you the saddest eyes you have ever seen, “I love you.” 

~~~

It’s been three months since that night. Three months since you’ve broken up with Peter. 

Over the days you had boxed up his things and made the trip to his apartment to drop them off. You always went when you knew he wouldn’t be there, when Ned was just there. 

“Y’know, he misses you.” He would say and every time you’d reply with a simple, “I know.” 

There would be times when Peter would try to text you or call you. He’s even tried coming to your place but Michelle would always be the one to answer the door and shooed him away. 

Then you had your moments when you wanted to unblock him and tell him you missed him, that you just wanted him to hold you and tell you that everything would be okay. You started biting your nails, wondering if you’ve made the right choice. Maybe you guys could've worked something out, you guys could have fixed things.

On the nights you had to walk home because MJ had to borrow your car you knew he was watching over you, and you prayed he would swing down to talk to you. He never did. 

One night, Liz invited you and MJ to her 23rd birthday party. You begged your friend to go with you and after successfully persuading her you finally had a reason to dress nice and enjoy yourself. You tried to get Michelle to dress up but she told you that you’re lucky she’s even going.

“I can’t believe we have a friend this loaded.”, Michelle said once you guys made it to the front steps of Liz’s Mansion of a house, “Almost makes you forget her dad was the literal Vulture.” 

You laughed, “Yeah. Good times.” 

Not really. You remembered that night. Peter had left you at Prom because of Adrien Toomes. It was actually the first time he had ditched you. On your way home you saw him coughing up blood and trying to hide his wounds in an alleyway, that’s when you found out he was Spider-Man. You felt bad for being so upset with him.

“You guys made it!” Liz exclaimed, bringing you back to reality, “Drinks are in the kitchen and there’s games in the backyard!” 

You and MJ made your way inside and saw a sea of 20-something year olds absolutely wasted, and a familiar mop of hair. Why was he here? He never liked parties. 

Your breath hitched and MJ noticed, “We can go.” She offered.

“No, like hell he’s going to ruin this for me.” You replied, making your way over to the drinks. 

~~~

Peter almost declined Liz’s invitation until Ned said it would be nice to try and let loose and get out of the apartment. He was hesitant but ended up going anyway, not wanting to make his friend worry more than he was. 

“Holy shit…is that YU?” 

Peter had never turned his head as quickly as he had when Ned exclaimed he saw you. “Where?” 

Ned pointed over to the kitchen, “Do you not hear everyone cheering her on? It’s impossible to miss.” 

“YU! YU! YU!” 

Sure enough there you were at a pop-up table taking shot after shot. It burned your throat in the greatest way possible and the cheers of everyone around you added onto it. 

You had no idea how deep you were in but you felt as if you needed more. MJ got dragged off by Liz who insisted on teaching her how to play some drinking game you couldn’t remember. 

You were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t even feel the arm that wrapped around your waist, “Hey pretty girl.” The stench of someone's hot breath kills your vibe instantly. 

“Get-Get off of me.” You slurred, trying to swat the stranger away from you, “I–”

“She has a boyfriend,” That voice, that sweet, beautiful voice, “I suggest you back off.” 

The stranger held his hands up, “Alright man, geez.” 

You looked up at Peter’s clenched jaw as he lead you to get some fresh air outside, his eyes looking at everything but you

“I-I didn’t ne-need your help, punk.” You squint your eyes as menacing as you could, “I-You’re not my bo-boyfriend.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t like how he thought he could be touchy.” 

“What-What if I wanted to?” You mumbled. 

Darn Peter’s super hearing. 

“You’re saying you wanted to sleep with him? Really?” He sneered, “You don’t mean it.” 

You crossed your arms, “He gave m-me more attention th-than you had in-in three years.” 

Peter pinched his eyes, “I haven’t stopped thinking about our fight and here you are, getting wasted and hooking up with men.” 

“Hav-Haven’t slept wit-with anyone, missed you too much.” The alcohol was turning against you, “ ‘m sorry, Pete.” You were crying now, a blubbering and boogery mess.

“No, I’m sorry,” He sighs and he attempts to wipe your tears away, “I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were less important than Spider-Man. I’d do anything to make it up to you, there hasn’t been a day that went by where I didn’t think about you.” 

“Y-You mean it?” You sobbed, “Can-Can we go? My car–keys in my pocket.” 

Before he could grab the keys he saw Liz and MJ make their way to the backseat of your car. 

“How about we walk? My place isn’t too far.” 

~~~

The next morning you woke up in a familiar setting, one you haven’t been in for awhile. 

The smell of Peter’s cologne filled your senses as you tried to pull a blanket over your head to block out the sun. Wait…Peter? You sat up so quick it made your head throb, but you didn’t care. How did you end up in Peter’s bed? In his shirt? 

The memories of last night came flooding in, even the part where you had told him you missed him. 

“Hey! You’re up!” 

You looked up and saw Peter standing in his bedroom doorway, “Before you say anything, no, we didn’t sleep together. I slept on the couch.” 

You pulled at the hem of the shirt you were wearing, “Then how..?” 

“I got you dressed, you complained that your clothes were suffocating and you were struggling to get them off. I promise though, I was respectful and didn’t attempt anything.” He chuckled, “You were pretty wasted.” 

You could cry, you broke up with him and said hurtful things and yet here he was taking care of you.

Peter stiffened, “Hey…why are you crying? Did I do something?”

You smiled and tried to wipe your tears away, “No, I did. I made you feel like trash because I was so hurt and I know you’re a hero. I didn’t mean to make you feel like what you do was stupid. I’m stupid.” 

He rushed to your side and held you close, “No, YU, you’re not stupid. I should’ve made time for you, I was a bad boyfriend.” 

“Can we start over?” you asked. 

“How about we start where we left off? Dinner tonight, for sure. I’ll ask Mr. Stark if someone can cover for me.” 

Your eyes lit up with hope, “You mean it?” 

“Of course.” 

[alexstalkers]

Everything Has Changed-Part 2

Backstory: Carl Gallagher is a police officer, and you are studying Psychology with a minor in Sociology at the University of Chicago. You meet at a time in your life where you don't need distractions or a relationship, but the Gallaghers are hurricanes and Carl changes your world view. 

SONG INSPIRATION: Betty- Taylor Swift

includes: one black fem reader! slowly falling in love with carl gallagher; one slightly jealous best friend…

(Part 1)

(sorry this is so short)

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

Weeks had passed since that night at Cosmo, and life seemed to settle into a new rhythm. I found myself spending more time with Carl and the rest of the Gallagher clan after getting closer with him during him, Michael, Michelle and I's hangouts. It wasn’t just the club nights or casual hangouts; Carl and I had developed a comfortable, almost effortless connection. We’d spend hours talking about everything from his work as a cop to my studies at the university. It felt natural, like I had known him forever.

But not everyone was happy about this new dynamic.

Michelle, my best friend and roommate, had started to act differently. At first, it was subtle — a raised eyebrow here, a slightly forced smile there. But as the weeks went on, her feelings became more apparent.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of classes, I came home to find Michelle sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She looked up as I entered, her expression unreadable.

“Hey, how was your day?” she asked, her tone unusually flat.

“Tiring,” I replied, kicking off my shoes and dropping my bag by the door. “I have so much to study for midterms, I don’t know how I’m going to manage.”

She nodded, but her attention seemed elsewhere. “Are you seeing Carl tonight?”

I hesitated, sensing the tension. “Yeah, we’re just going to grab some food and hang out. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”

Michelle’s lips pressed into a thin line. “No, it’s fine. I have my own plans.”

Her words were casual, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Before I could press further, my phone buzzed with a text from Carl.

Carl: Hey, I’m outside. Ready when you are.

I glanced at Michelle, who was now staring intently at her phone. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, not looking up. “Have fun.”

As I stepped outside, the cool Chicago air hit my face, a stark contrast to the warmth of Carl’s smile as he leaned against his car.

“Hey, you,” he greeted, pulling me into a quick hug. “Ready for some food?”

“Absolutely,” I said, returning his smile. “Where are we going?”

“There’s this great little taco place not too far from here,” Carl suggested as we got into his car. “I think you’ll love it.”

The drive was filled with easy conversation and laughter, but I couldn’t shake the unease from my encounter with Michelle. It lingered in the back of my mind like a dark cloud. I really liked Carl, but sometimes I felt guilty being out with him knowing that my best friend liked him first. She reassured me that after their first few times hanging out, there wasn't much chemistry and she felt nothing for him, but every time I hang out with him alone, she seems like she doesn't want me to.

Nothing romantic or serious has happened between me and Carl, but I am starting to like him a lot and I which scares me because I don't want to ruin my friendship with Michelle if it does happen.

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

The taco place was exactly as Carl had described — cozy, with a warm atmosphere and amazing food. We found a corner booth and settled in, our conversation flowing effortlessly.

“So, how’s work been?” I asked, biting into my taco.

“Busy, as always,” Carl replied, wiping some salsa from the corner of his mouth. “But you know, it’s the kind of busy I like. Keeps me on my toes.”

“I can imagine,” I said, thinking about the stories he’d shared with me. “Must be stressful, though.”

“It has its moments,” he admitted. “But then I think about the good we’re trying to do, and it makes it all worth it.”

I nodded, feeling a swell of admiration for him. Carl had this way of seeing the world that was both pragmatic and hopeful, a balance I found myself drawn to.

After dinner, we decided to take a walk by the lake. The city lights reflected off the water, creating a serene backdrop for our conversation.

“You know,” Carl began, his voice thoughtful, “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, Y/N. You’re easy to talk to.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. “I feel the same way about you, Carl. You’ve become a really important part of my life.”

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of the water lapping against the shore providing a soothing soundtrack. But eventually, the topic I had been avoiding came up.

“How’s Michelle?” Carl asked gently.

I sighed, my shoulders slumping slightly. “I don’t know. She’s been...different lately. Distant.”

Carl stopped walking and turned to face me, his expression serious. “Do you think it’s because of us?”

I looked down at my feet, the guilt I had been trying to ignore bubbling to the surface. “Maybe. I don’t know. She’s my best friend, Carl. I hate the thought of her feeling left out or hurt.”

He reached out, lifting my chin so I had to meet his gaze. “Y/N, you deserve to be happy. And so does Michelle. Maybe you just need to talk to her, let her know how you’re feeling.”

“I know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t want to lose her.”

“You won’t,” Carl assured me, his thumb brushing gently across my cheek. “Friendships have ups and downs, but if it’s real, it’ll survive.”

I nodded, feeling a little better. “Thanks, Carl. You always know what to say.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “Let’s head back. It’s getting late.”

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

The ride home was quiet, but it was a comfortable silence, filled with the unspoken understanding between us. When Carl dropped me off, he promised to text me later, and I walked up to the apartment feeling a mix of emotions.

Michelle was still on the couch when I entered, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. I took a deep breath, deciding it was time to address the elephant in the room.

“Michelle, can we talk?” I asked, sitting down beside her.

She set her phone aside, her expression guarded. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I feel like there’s been some tension between us lately,” I began carefully. “And I just want to make sure we’re okay.”

Michelle sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Y/N, I’m not gonna lie. It’s been hard seeing you get so close to Carl. I mean, I’m happy for you, but it feels like I’m losing my best friend.”

My heart ached at her words. “Michelle, you’re not losing me. I promise. Carl is important to me, but so are you. I don’t want you to feel left out or replaced.”

She looked at me, her eyes softening. “I know. It’s just...hard. I guess I’m a little jealous. You and Carl have this connection, and I feel like I’m on the outside looking in.”

“I understand,” I said, reaching out to take her hand. “But you’re my best friend, Michelle. No one could ever replace you. Let’s make more time for us, okay? Just the two of us.”

She smiled, squeezing my hand. “I’d like that.”

We sat there for a while, just talking and reconnecting. It felt good to clear the air, and I felt hopeful that our friendship would come out stronger on the other side.

As I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t help but think about how much my life had changed in such a short time. Carl had brought a whirlwind of new experiences and emotions, but it was the bond with Michelle that anchored me. I knew there would be challenges ahead, but for the first time in a long time, I felt ready to face them.

Everything had changed, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[callmewrinkles3]

Long story short - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist.

Summary: Summer break 2023 means a trip back to Perth to see how construction is going on the farm and but especially to spend Em’s birthday with family.

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive family dynamics, mentions of sex, past pregnancy loss.

Words: 6k

A/N: Hey hey! We know you’ve missed oneshots so here’s Em’s birthday for you to enjoy. We may have cried multiple times writing this, just very normal. It was pretty great lol. Hope you enjoy it and let us know what you think! All our love, Alex and Cíara.💜

August 2023

The summer break every year - with the exception of 2018 and 2020 - had involved being in the States. It was usually LA and sun for a few days, or a week somewhere in the mountains for Dan to do altitude training to prepare for races like Brazil and Mexico. But that summer things were different. With the farm construction happening fast thanks to the baby’s due date coming so soon, and Blake and Charlie being adorable, the three of them were flying back home to spend the full two weeks of the shutdown in the Australian winter. It was still milder than a European one, Em giggling as the boys changed into thick hoodies before ending the journey that had started in Italy.

Dan wanted to take full advantage of the time off, conspiring with Charlie to plan Em’s thirty third birthday. She knew it was happening and just let him plan it. Even with her dislike of parties she knew Dan wouldn’t go too overboard, so she just laughed and told him to do what he wanted. Having it surrounded by people felt strange. The year before had been just the two of them in their little bubble, and before that it had always been with Dan. She hadn’t had her parents involved since she was ten and had her final birthday party before secondary school. Because she was a summer baby her parents had acted like she didn’t need a party. The kids in school wouldn’t realise there was no party to be invited to.

She insisted it wasn’t necessary to organise anything but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Dan wanted his pregnant wife to be as happy as she could be before the chaos of the last half of the season happened so it was a full thirteen days surrounded by their people before the flight back to Faenza.

Em had to admit that it was a perfect idea. Ever since she’d found out about the pregnancy and told Grace she needed her mother there for all the questions she had. It was a blessing to spend time and to ask the questions she was embarrassed about - even when Michelle butted in and made jokes at her expense. It was there with her family and she felt good. She could call either of them any time that she wanted but it was no substitute for actually being there. She needed the hugs and physical contact that only a mum could give.

What Em had needed the entire time was for the woman who’d promised to love her as her own to wrap her in a cuddle and remind her that everything was going to be fine. That she was going to spend Christmas with her beautiful newborn baby girl. And when Grace said it Em believed it.

They got to spend the two weeks with family and eating good food, being looked after before the world could intervene. That’s what Grace and Joe had always done for Dan and they pulled Em into that world, looking after their kids when they needed it the most.

But the best thing about staying with her in laws and not the building site that was currently their farmhouse was getting to stay in Dan’s childhood bedroom. Grace hadn’t redecorated since he’d left for Italy half his life ago, the old school NASCAR posters on the wall and karting trophies on shelves. The photos of his family and friends were there to surround Dan with reminders of his childhood. Em refused to mention the one of Dan and Michael on their school football team that had disappeared when she was in the shower one morning. She couldn’t ruin their time at home talking about something like that. As far as she was concerned the picture was never there. It was the same way they were all pretending Michael had never been in their lives. Grace and Joe knew better than to ask about him.

That whole situation hurt a little less every day, but it still ached. It was easier when they weren’t in the paddock. The plan was to spend more time in Italy so Dan could be at the factory more where Michael wouldn’t really be. In London and Perth they could avoid his neighbourhood and the places he liked to go. But race weekends it was impossible. They shared the same garage, the same hospitality. They turned left to go into Dan’s driver room at Budapest and Spa and knew that he was the other side of the too flimsy wall having turned right. They could and did run into him at any time. Em wanted to tell him how she was, how the baby was. How his niece was. But Lulu wasn’t going to be his niece. She wasn’t going to even know him. It gutted Em that her brother wasn’t in her life anymore but he’d made his decision and it didn’t hurt as much. But it hurt the most during the parties Dan held in Perth.

The first one was ridiculous and unexpected, held two days after they arrived in Australia. It was part Charlie’s idea and part Dan’s, the decision made between them to celebrate Blake and Em. Neither of them realised that it was happening when they arrived back at the Ricciardos that afternoon. Blake had brought her to take a look at kitchen fittings for the farmhouse, the plan to bring Dan back to look at her top picks before they were put into the rebuilt kitchen. She was getting the kitchen of her dreams and she was taking advantage, copper fittings and marble countertops on the wooden cabinets. There was all the storage she wanted, the plans were ready for her to show Dan and see what he thought. It was their forever home and she couldn’t wait.

She arrived back to Grace and Joe’s to their family there, Charlie’s brother Cal and his boyfriend standing near the back nervously. Blake’s parents had flown out to be there too. Dan stood on a rickety kitchen chair, his hand on Blake’s shoulder to stay steady.

“I’m usually good at saying stuff but this is really hard. The last…the last year or so has been really hard. And there’s two people who could have walked away but didn’t, and this is to make sure they know how loved and appreciated they are. Blake, you’re my brother. You more than anyone else had a reason to yell at me and tell me to get my shit together - sorry Ma.”

“Just this once!” Grace called as Dan collected himself.

“Emmy, you married me and you love me and we’re having a baby and I still don’t know why you decided to stay through everything that was said about you. But you are the best woman I’ve met in my life, and I love you to pieces. You know. But this is just to say thank you to all of you for being there and helping. Cause I wouldn’t be in a seat again without you all.”

It was scattered applause and Em reached for her husband to give him the biggest hug, pulling him tight for a moment as Lulu kicked against him.

“You’re gonna be the best dad, Dan. We love you so much. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

The words were completely true, even with everything that had happened. The emotional and physical pain. The embarrassment being turned away from the paddock in Spa the year before thanks to stupid mind games. The hospital visit and the therapy and the near screaming match with her parents. Because they were home with their baby coming soon and in love. It was hard and worth it.

She spent that day swapping between Isaac and Isabella on her knee, Cal and Ryder taking the other child and playing. The last thing she said to Cal before he left was that Ryder was a keeper, watching the younger man blush. He was a sweetheart like the rest of their family.

Blake and Charlie were the last ones to leave, hugs to everyone the order of the day. Finally they left, Em going nearly straight to bed to sleep thanks to missing her usual afternoon nap.

Em told Dan not to make a huge fuss of her birthday, that a relaxing day would be fine. But she knew really that there was no chance her husband or family would let her birthday pass like that. It was the one day where they could shower her with love and affection without her complaints so they took full advantage.

She woke up that morning to Dan covering her in kisses, pulling her in for slow birthday sex that had them both gasping for breath and desperate to keep quiet. Her husband held her even tighter for a few moments before they got up, Dan leading her to the kitchen where Grace and Joe sang Happy Birthday as she came in. There were pancakes and bacon waiting for her with a candle lit on the top of a lavender iced cupcake. She started tearing up immediately, not even attempting to pretend that it was the pregnancy hormones that caused her emotions. It was happy tears. She was happy and loved and that was what she cared about. She and Dan had made it through, and the joy that morning compared to the worry of the previous year was so different.

It felt like a dream compared to the year before, her husband by her side and she was pregnant with their baby. They were getting everything they wanted and life was good. Nobody was taking this from her and she spent her morning curled up against Dan on the couch as he kept whispering how much he loved her, making her grin and kissing her cheeks with each smile.

Nothing had prepared her for the birthday party that Blake, Charlie, and Dan had prepared for her at the Clarke’s farm. Dan led her into the barn where they’d held their wedding, a shout of “SURPRISE” ringing around the room. She loved it so much, lavender decorations everywhere as their families were all there. She started tearing up of happiness again, tears spilling over as Isaac and Isabella came running over to her yelling “happy birthday Auntie Emmy!”.

She honestly didn’t expect gifts from people. Dan had been the first person to give her gifts just because, but there was a table tucked away in the corner with presents for her to open later. It was insane to her how many there were, everyone saying she could open them later. Charlie’s parents hugged her and pulled a chair out to urge her to sit, Em watching as Isaac and Isabella brought over their presents for her.

The first one that Isaac insisted on her opening had Toy Story wrapping paper, and inside was a huge box with everything she could ever want to make friendship bracelets with. They had a tradition to make new ones every time they were in Perth with the kids, weaving thread and beads together to make cute ones. Isaac explained how he wanted new ones, and he wanted them to make new ones for the baby too.

“They’re gonna be teeny tiny cause the baby’s gonna be like Iz’s dolly, but we need them to have lots so they grow!” He explained to Em, clearly happy to have a new cousin to play with.

“You’re so right, Baby. I love it, thank you! You’re gonna come over at the weekend and we can make some before I go back to Europe?”

With a nod and a kiss on his aunt’s cheek Isaac ran back to his uncle Dan, the promise of getting to go look at the cattle on the farm too alluring. Instead his little sister took his spot on Em’s lap, handing over a box wrapped in lavender unicorn paper. Inside it was a bright pink Barbie box. The doll had brunette hair like Em, complete with a travel set. There was a neck pillow, a suitcase that looked like Em’s own one, and everything else Barbie her could need.

“It’s just like you!” Isabella exclaimed as soon as the paper was ripped away and dumped on the other side of the table. It really did nearly look like her.

“Oh my God, I love it.” She kissed her niece’s curly hair, holding on tightly as Isabella pointed out the phone and camera. “Thank you so, so much, Baby girl. I love it so, so much. It’s the best.”

“Can we play tomorrow?” The little girl asked, looking up with big eyes and an angelic face. It was nearly impossible for Em to say no.

“After school, ok? But then we can, promise. And we’ll have some more cake, but don’t tell your Mum and we’ll make sure to save some for her.”

At the start she didn’t ask why a Barbie doll, it came from her niece and that was what she cared about. But while during the party Isabella kept asking about the baby and patting Em’s tummy, she couldn’t stop wondering why. Once Isabella was safely occupied with one of Charlie’s nieces she decided she had to ask, walking over to her sister in law and getting the words out. As soon as Michelle began to speak Em regretted asking.

“We were in the kitchen and she came to tell me and Mum that you come up with the best stories for the Barbies while you play, but you never had one growing up so you didn’t have a favourite Barbie. She thought because you travel so much Travel Barbie would be your favourite. I couldn’t say no, Em. I’m sorry you never had one.”

Em never thought Isabella would remember that single conversation. It was months ago, the week before her wedding. If she’d realised Isabella would think about it she wouldn’t have said it.

Part of the therapy that Mildred was working on with her was giving her that allowance to be a kid. She’d never gotten to be, but Mildred told her to do the things she wanted to. Spend time with her niece and nephew and play with them. She’d made a bundle of friendship bracelets before seeing Taylor Swift as part of it. So when Isabella asked if she wanted to play Barbies Em said yes immediately.

She and Dan were on babysitting duty, the four of them were downstairs playing with Isaac’s cars. Instead of playing he and Dan had fallen asleep thanks to exhaustion and a sugar crash from the final wedding cake tests. The two girls were alone and Isabella pulled Em upstairs before taking out a Barbie carry case and asking Em to do braids in Skipper’s hair.

It was while Em was twisting the slick strands of plastic hair when Isabella asked her about her favourite Barbie as a kid. She couldn’t tell the truth and break her niece’s childhood. The truth was that her parents thought dolls were ridiculous and she was never allowed to have them growing up, that she had puzzles and non fiction books. Even fiction books had to be by certain authors or she couldn’t read them because they wouldn’t “develop her brain”.

The short answer, the easy one, was “Oh, I didn’t have any Barbies.” Followed by asking if Isabella wanted her hair to match Skippers and a child sitting in Em’s lap to get her french braids put in the subject matter was closed. She was convinced that Isabella had forgotten about it. The next topic of conversation was how pretty her flower girl dress for the wedding was and how she looked “like a fairy princess” in it. But she hadn’t.

Her thoughts were pinned on the topic after she spoke to Michelle. Em went mostly through the motions for the rest of the party, hugging her friends and talking to everyone. Chloe and Scotty made a surprise appearance for her, a giant hug and a promise that Em was coming out with Chloe and Charlie in a couple of days for lunch.

The box with the doll stayed in her hand and all she could imagine was a couple of years time when her daughter started playing with it. She couldn’t imagine having a baby, going through pregnancy and labour to not even want the result. To never really want a baby like her parents never wanted her. Even thinking about her baby girl not having the entire world hurt so much it made her want to cry. It was still four months until she’d arrive and Em and Dan would do anything to keep her safe and love her. Her nursery in London was ready to go, the last thing a photo collage Em wanted to make of all the adults who would love Lulu. The only reason her room in Perth wasn’t ready was because of the construction, but the furniture had been delivered and was sitting in an outbuilding. They already had enough to fill the playroom and the nursery even though Lulu would sleep in their room for the first few months. The travel arrangements were ready to go. They even had Lulu’s luggage all set.

Em had never really understood how someone couldn’t love their own child, but as she counted down the days to her due date it was even harder. She knew there was reasons why, she knew some people weren’t pregnant in good situations. But when she was pregnant and married and had tried for a baby? It was irrational to her that you wouldn’t want that child.

But while the birthday party continued she refused to let herself go there. She wouldn’t let herself think about why her parents were the way they were and how much that hurt. And she definitely wasn’t thinking about how the last time she came home from this room her former best friend had left her life in the most unceremonious of ways. That wasn’t raining on her parade, not today. So she walked over, hugged her husband, whispered how much she loved him and how thankful she was for the wonderful day she was having.

“Remember when you weren’t the party kind and I had to drag you anywhere?” Dan joked, kissing her cheek as she smiled.

“I reckon you were the one who dragged me to different ones ever since we met. But you know me, Dimples. I still don’t like big things much but this? This is nice. These are the ones I like.”

Even at 33 she hated when she was the centre of attention and people sang happy birthday to her. She wasn’t sure if anyone actually liked being surrounded by friends singing off key and out of tune, but for the first time it didn’t feel weird. The people who were around her had been supporting her through every single good and bad moment in the last five years. They loved her no matter how broken or weird she felt. They made sure that she knew how loved she was, no matter what. Every single person had wormed their way into her heart when she’d tried to keep people out. So when the singing ended and she took a deep breath to blow out the birthday candles in one breath she had one wish in her mind. To keep every single person in this room in her life forever.

The winter meant the sun was setting early, exhaustion hitting Em hard. She’d needed naps more and more since she’d become pregnant and this was the second time in a week that she hadn’t had one. After her third yawn and as the kids were getting cranky they all decided to head home. It took Dan to make her sit down and not help clear up, Charlie’s parents half shooing them out of the barn warning that the cleaning was sorted, to go home and rest. Joe drove them back, Grace in the front seat as Em rested her head against Dan’s shoulder and half dozed while the other three made conversation in low tones.

Her husband had to shake her to wake her up when they got back to the house, Em stretching as she undid her belt. It was tempting to stay and sleep in the car, but her back was sore enough after a night in a comfy bed. Sitting up in a car would be worse.

Dan didn’t want to wake her when they arrived back at the house, but it was safer for her to get out of the car on her own instead of Dan lifting her out. He helped her up and closed the door behind her.

“Did you have a good day, Kiddo?” Joe asked a half awake Em as they walked back into the house. Dan’s arm was around her waist to help keep her up and stop her from tripping up with tiredness.

“Best birthday of my life. You didn’t need to do it, but thank you for doing it for me.”

“It’s what you deserve, Darling,” Grace insisted. Her mother in law pushed a kiss to her forehead before Dan brought Em up to bed.

Before they made it into their room Dan dragged her into the bathroom, getting Em to sit on the toilet as he took her makeup off fully and helped rub her moisturiser in. She was too tired to do it, almost deciding to just sleep without washing her face. But as delicately as possible Dan wiped it off, using crouching in front of her as an excuse to stroke her cheek and steal kisses from his wife.

Once they were ready to go to bed Dan lifted her off the toilet and across the hallway to deposit her on the bed, Em giggling at his actions. It didn’t take long for him to pull her dress and leggings off, replacing them with clean underwear and one of his old, worn shirts that was soft enough for Em. She laughed as he kept stealing kisses from her as he pulled the shirt over her bump, rubbing gently

“I’m lazy and sleepy but I can still change my clothes on my own, Babe.”

“You know very well that I love undressing you. Even if you actually have to wear something to bed because we’re at home.”

If they were in the apartment or even on the farm they wouldn’t be wearing anything. The skin to skin contact in bed always made Em relax and help her sleep better but considering they were at Dan’s parents they had to be semi decent. Em wore one of his shirts and Dan would at least keep his underwear on. Even when he complained more than once.

“Any excuse to see me naked, right?” Em smiled before kissing his cheek and finally laying down to be able to rest. “C’mon Dimples, your wifey is exhausted. Come to bed.”

She patted the mattress beside her to wait for Dan to crawl into the bed and she could get into his arms. She knew it’d take him longer to fall asleep than her. Every night since she’d gotten that positive pregnancy test he’d started his own little night time ritual of telling the baby a story while kissing and stroking her bump. He wasn’t joking about wanting to be a hands on dad, so since day one he did everything in his power to connect with their baby. It didn’t matter how long was left until she was in his arms, he wanted his daughter to know who her daddy was from day one.

From all the things he did or could do those five or ten minutes as they wound down for bed were some of his favourite of the day. Most nights Em stayed awake listening to what her husband was saying while she read. Other nights like this one she fell asleep easily and left her loves to have their late night chats.

“Before I get in I have one last thing for you.” Dan pulled a colourful Happy Birthday gift bag that was hidden in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe. “I know you’re going to say I’ve given you too many gifts, but it’s your birthday and our anniversary so birthaversary rules mean I get to spoil you. If you let me I’d spoil you every day. I’m so lucky to get to love you and be your husband. I couldn’t say this earlier cause I’d start crying, but I just…thanks, Emmy. I couldn’t do any of this without you. And you’ve made me the happiest man in the world. I love you.”

“I love you too, Danny. So much. Marrying you is the best thing I ever did. And this better not be lingerie that won’t fit me anymore.” He laughed at her words and handed over the bag, sitting up beside her in the bed. It was six years of being around Dan, of him getting overexcited and determined to spoil her rotten at all times. She’d jokingly complain about how he got her too much, but he was like that for everyone. She learned to get used to how Dan showed his love with gifts and making life easier for people. This was another one of those occasions so she sat up on the bed with a pillow supporting her back, looking at her husband as he smiled.

“You’re the hottest mama in the world, Baby girl. But no, it’s nothing like that. Just open it, ok?”

The second Em opened the bag and saw the stuffed crocodile inside she started crying. Pregnancy hormones couldn’t be blamed for these tears.

When she was three her parents brought her on a trip to a holiday camp in Wales. She barely remembered any of it apart from a little playground beside the pub there, but it was the kind of place that was where they could take her for a weekend to prove how normal they were. An hour from Liverpool, two nights and enough photos to prove they took their daughter away on holiday.

One of the few things she did remember was how much she loved Captain Croc, the crocodile mascot that wandered around. They’d gotten her a teddy, the first one she remembered having. He was vivid green and yellow, blue dungarees with yellow interlocking Cs and big white eyes. He was her comfort toy, hugging him in her tiny arms and bringing him everywhere until she started primary school.

She thought she remembered the feeling of having a new best friend to play with and make up games. Now she knew it was probably her brain trying to make a memory to help her cope with a messed up childhood.

The one definite memory that Em did have was how thirty years later she watched her husband tear up as he looked at a photo of her tiny self holding Captain Croc. Dan held it together until they made it back to the hotel after they left her parents house with the final box of things she was taking. Once they were in that room he started sobbing because he didn’t understand how nobody was there to hold that little girl and tell her how perfect she was. He sobbed because he knew that it was one of the few really happy moments she had in her early childhood. Not that she realised that it should have been better then.

But above all Dan sobbed because that’s what their baby might have looked like. It was the week after she should have had their first baby. They should have been parents. Imagining how their baby could have been hurt like that by anyone cut him to the core and he sobbed in Em’s arms as she held him and promised that they would do better. They would make sure their baby was so loved. She was used to the casual cruelty of her own parents, the way they used words as weapons. Dan who’d never known anything but support and love didn’t understand it.

This teddy meant more than just a gift from her husband to remind her of a bright spot in her life. It was the reminder of slowly healing wounds that still weren’t fully scabbed over. That photo had opened them up more again, and the teddy reminded her more. The day she told Dan the story he held her as they both sobbed. He’d have done anything to have a little girl who looked just like his Emmy. Anything to see his Emmy holding their mini me baby but life was unfair and cruel. Instead of holding their baby that day they held each other, promising that one day it was going to happen. They were going to get to have their family and be happy, no matter what.

But in the final hours of her birthday, thirty one years after she first held her teddy, Em started sobbing again. She had no idea how Dan had found an exact copy of the Captain Croc she’d loved so much but he did. Hers was too delicate, kept in a box in the apartment in London to be shown to her kids as a memento. But he’d found a brand new one, making child and adult Em sob with happiness.

“I knew that a certain little lady wanted to give you a Barbie because you never had one, so I thought that Barbie could do with having a friend. And in a couple of years when our little lady is able to she’ll want to play with them too.” Dan helped Em pull him out of the bag. It should have been easy but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t get him out fully.

The adrenaline and relief flowing through her body made her shake like a leaf in Dan’s arms. Em didn’t know how she had gotten this lucky. She had friends who flew hours to see her for her birthday, a family who loved her enough to make a big deal of her. And the most loving and caring husband in the world. She still didn’t know what she did to deserve it and get it, but she was so thankful for it. It was yet another day where even with everything that had happened, even with the way her parents acted and her family was it was worth it because she had Dan. She’d have done it over and over if this was the result. She was married to the love of her life, she was having their baby, and they were happier than she thought possible.

It took longer than she expected to calm down her sobs, Dan holding onto her tightly. He ran his hand against her back, whispering how much he loved her in between pressing kisses to her face and head. It was whispers of how proud he was of her, how much he loved her, how wonderful she was. And most importantly how he knew that their baby loved her already.

“Marrying you a year ago was the best decision of my entire life, you know that, right?” Em whispered, her voice still shaking with sobs. “Y’know, right?”

“I know. We’re still a couple of hours away from exactly a year.” Dan checked his watch, it was ten in Perth, two in London. This time a year ago he was waiting for Em to come back and pick out wedding rings with him before their four pm appointment.

“Happy anniversary, my Love. It was the best idea we ever had.”

Her birthday overshadowed the fact that it was their first wedding anniversary. A year ago they were running around London, Em buying her wedding dress in Marks and Spencer as Dan wore a suit she loved him in. The two of them standing in the registry office in Kensington and promising to love each other, desperate to keep the other happy and get through the next few months together.

It was hard to believe that 365 days had passed since she finally became Mrs Ricciardo. She loved it. She’d loved being his wife every single day, even the horrible ones. It was a year where she’d woken up at her husband’s side every single morning and she could never take it for granted.

“Happy anniversary, Baby girl. You and our little one here are the greatest things that ever happened to me,” Dan whispered as he pulled her up, close enough to finally give Em a kiss while he rubbed her bump.

“Happy anniversary, Danny. Here, for you.” Em reached across and pulled the wrapped package out from under the bed. She’d been wracking her brain about what to get him, but in the end it was an easy decision. Dan opened it quickly, Em watching as he realised what it was.

Traditionally the first anniversary was paper, and she found someone on Etsy who made star charts of the night sky on important dates. It was the sky above London the night they met, Monaco the first night they spent together, Spa when they said they loved each other for the first time, and London when they’d got married. The poster was their important moments highlighted and she saw the grin spread across his face.

“You are amazing. Thank you. This is…it’s everything.” He put it to the side as he pulled her in, holding her as she began to lull to sleep.

“You know what’s crazy? Next year we’re gonna be celebrating our birthdays and anniversaries with her.”

“That’s all I want. The three of us snuggled up together doing nothing all day.”

Em couldn’t help but smile, imagining how it would be to wake up with their baby and her husband right there. No plans needed except spending the day with the loves of her life. She didn’t want anything else and it felt greedy to even consider asking to get anything else. She got to marry her Dan and love him openly, and their baby was strong and healthy and growing. It was more than she could have imagined.

“We’ll cuddle and eat cake. She better like lemon drizzle. I mean I’ll settle for chocolate fudge if I have to.”

“She might not. I mean I’ve been eating it so much she might hate it. Or she’ll be obsessed.”

“Lulu’s half you, Emmy. She’s obsessed already I think.” Em laughed at his tone, curling into Dan.

“Can I sleep like this?” She asked, hiding her face against Dan’s chest. She felt ridiculous holding Captain Croc in her arms as she could feel sleep hitting her while her husband was holding her tightly. But she felt just as defenceless as the little girl in the photos. The big difference between the Em of thirty years ago was that now there were people who looked after her and hugged her on the bad days. Who made sure she was eating and cared for. She’d never had someone love her unconditionally like that until Dan was in her life.

“Anything you want, birthday girl.”

Em’s wishes were Dan’s commands, so she fell asleep in her husband’s arms, head on his chest as her teddy was between them with Dan’s low whispers to their baby echoing in her ears. It might be immature, a grown woman and soon to be mother getting that comfort, but she wanted and needed it. The rest didn’t matter. She and Dan were happy and that was what was important.

—

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[magewritesstories]

[ ᴛᴏɢᴇ ɪɴᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ ] ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇꜱ

summary: 1 000 yellow daisies? Hah, Toge can do way better than that. Based on the s1 gilmore girls finale tw: none, literal fluff note: i wanted to write something for him too. might make this a series with diff. characters and different famous movie scenes. words: 1051 (yay 1k!) jujutsu kaisen masterlist

IT WASN'T EVEN CLOSE TO FALL YET AND YOU WERE ALREADY ON A GILMORE GIRLS KICK. You'd been rewatching the TV show along with some other iconic 00s movies and had almost reached the end of season one.

What brought on the sudden interest in the show, even though you usually saved it for your annual start-of-fall-ritual? You had no clue.

(Lies—it had been that one Jess Mariano edit on your fyp.)

Either way, it's not like it mattered, all that mattered was that you were happily bundled up in your little blanket burrito with popcorn and chocolate.

Just as you laughed at Lorelai annoying Michel, a small knock sounded from the door of your dorm.

"Come in!" You shouted, not bothering to get up. It would ruin the burrito form you'd turned yourself into.

"Kelp," Your boyfriend greets, walking over to you with a grin. You immediately open your arms for a hug, "Hey, how was the mission?"

The white-haired boy just sighed and shook his head. "Fish flakes," He replied, falling down on the couch next to you.

You two huddle together under the blanket as you weave your hands through his hair.

Toge sends a confused glance at the TV screen, "Mustard leaves?"

"Huh? Oh, that's the TV show I told you about," You reply, "You're actually perfectly on time for—dare I say—one of the most romantic scenes in cinema history."

Your boyfriend just gives you another confused glance before turning back to the TV. Your eyes are glued to the screen in anticipation.

"Oh, a little background—" A bit unable to contain your excitement you explain—"Basically, they're dating and she tells him that a real proposal should have 1,000 yellow daisies and a horse and yada yada."

You're practically sat at the edge of your seat as the look of realisation dawns on Lorelai's face, and Toge watches you with eyes filled with adoration. Wow, you're adorable.

You swoon as the camera pans around the brunette on screen, letting yourself fall into your boyfriend's arms with a giggle, "Isn't that so cute?"

"A little over the top but so cute." You look up at your boyfriend through your eyelashes and teasingly add, "Now that's how you say I love you."

It's an offhand comment, just meant to be a small joke but it sparks an idea in his head nonetheless. The gears in his brain shifting a mile a minute.

A way to say I love you, huh?

It takes almost two weeks for him to get everything in order.

Placing an order of a thousand flowers is apparently excessive and the maximum of the local flower shop was three hundred.

And getting you distracted long enough to not notice a giant shipment of your favourite flowers being shifted into your room was no easy feat.

Toge had to beg and bribe Maki to go shopping with you and Nobara for an entire day.

Yuji and Gojo, ever the movie lovers and romantics were all for the idea of recreating the scene and even helped fill your dorm room.

Panda tried helped too but eventually gave up when his claws cut through three flower stems.

Megumi just rolled his eyes and reminded his senior that you'd probably give him hell for letting Gojo in your dorm room. (Toge tried not to focus on that upcoming lecture too much.)

Eventually, after an entire day of work and a few cuts on his hands, your boyfriend has managed to ready your surprise and patiently waits for you at the entrance of Jujutsu Tech.

"Ah, I feel like my legs are going to fall off," You complain as the three of you walk up the steps to your school.

Maki nods in agreement, "Now I understand why you guys make Yuji carry all the bags."

Like the amazing boyfriend he is, Toge holds out his hands and offers to carry your bags. And any other day you'd have told him it was fine—but damn Nobara took the words 'shop 'til you drop' a little too seriously.

The white-haired boy holds your bags in one hand and uses the other to intertwine his fingers in yours, leading you away from the now complaining redhead, who's whining about also wanting a boyfriend.

His excitement (and nerves) catch up to him and Toge quickens his pace until he's practically dragging you to your dorm room.

"Toge, calm down, you're gonna burn a hole in the floor at this rate," You laugh, matching his pace.

Eventually, the two of you reach the entrance to your dorm room and Toge stops you from opening the door.

He drops the bags on the floor and makes you stand in front of the door as he stands behind you, placing one hand over your eyes and the other on the door knob.

"Ooh, a surprise for me?" You ask with a quiet giggle, closing your eyes intinctivly.

You let Toge lead you inside, it was only a few steps but you had a general idea of the inside of your dorm and knew that you were standing in the middle.

Your boyfriend removes his hand from your eyes, and they immediately go as wide as saucers.

The two of you were standing in the middle of your dorm room—except it didn't look like your dorm room at all.

The usually plain dorm was now decorated to the brim with your favourite flowers, from small vases on your desk to the garland draped over the headboard of your bed.

You stand completely awestruck at the sight, not moving an inch as you try to process everything around you.

Toge waves his hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your trance. "Salmon?"

"You—you did this?" You ask in disbelief, before nodding frevently and wrapping your arms around his neck, "I love it!"

You pull down the zipper of his hoodie and give him a long, loving kiss, "I love it, I love it, I love it!"

The two of you stare at each other with heart eyes.

"I love you," You finally add in a soft tone.

And he doesn't have to say it out loud. Because 296 flowers filling your rooms are relaying the message loud and clear.

Now that's how you say I love you.

[inthemaelstrom]

Do Something.

"No matter how good we feel tonight tomorrow or the next day, this is going to be an uphill battle.... We cannot be our own worst enemies. ... The minute something goes wrong, the minute a lie takes hold, we cannot start wringing our hands. We cannot get a Goldilocks complex about whether everything is just right, and we cannot indulge our anxieties about whether country will elect someone like Kamala instead of doing everything we can to get someone like Kamala elected.... Kamala and Tim ... are still only human. They are not perfect, and like all of us they will make mistakes. But luckily, y'all, this is not just on them. Nah, uhuh. This is up to us, all of us, to be the solution that we seek, to be the antidote to the darkness and division." -Michelle Obama

Understand the assignment, people. Don't look for the impossible. Don't let perfect ruin great.

[pinkueigas]

i think gas chamber is a visual kei band and they have a variety of inspirations such as x-japan, buck-tick, malice mizer, l'arc-en-ciel, nine inch nails, bowie, and just j-pop in general such as jun togawa, kaoru akimoto etc… i think all three of them have very diverse taste in music but tatsuya and jun spend a lot of time on foreign music forums because they're bilingual, unlike michel who has been so totally bilingual since he was born!!!!11!1!11!1!

jun brings new wave and post-punk/goth to the table, tatsuya is into britpop and europop (but if you ask him, he hasnt heard of aqua, he doesnt know what a barbie girl is, he thinks youre making words up) and eikichi listens to anything and has something to say about everything. he has a deep appreciation for idol pop! don't tell lisa. or anyone actually. ruins his street cred. they spend a lot of time together at record stores hunting through bins for the most obscure stuff they can find and take it back to tatsuya's to listen to since he's the one with a record player. katsuya got him it for his birthday.

a lot of their music is workshopped on the fly, they meet up (again, at tatsuya's, because as much as tatsuya hates it his mother loves to dote on them) with music written on napkins and work really hard to make it a masterpiece. tatsuya was taught to play guitar by his brother and is really good at impressions of inorganic sounds, jun is a classically trained organist who spends a lot of time volunteering at local churches and has a diary filled with music and poetry, and michel is an idiot with a dream. he doesn't really play any instruments despite the guitar case he carries around, but he has (with a lil training) a great voice and jun and tatsuya help him learn the keys and guitar respectively. once michel is confident enough to play guitar tatsuya plays the bass <3

nyarlathotep and junko were both very lax parents who let jun have whatever he wanted provided it would get him to stop pestering them, so jun is the only one with a good enough computer to mix and burn their music. michel hovers over his shoulder while he works to make sure he's doing it right, which jun only barely pretends to tolerate. still, egotism aside, michel really is the heart of the band. he's not as technically skilled as the others but it's his drive and motivation that actually gets his silly introvert friends to work hard towards something they're passionate about! they're a proper trio and the band would completely fall apart if one of them left.

they perform wherever they can and maya writes articles in coolest about them :) she's their biggest supporter and buys all of their merch and has a signed poster lovingly displayed on their wall. katsuya makes a snippy remark about how tatsuya should grow up instead of wasting his life away in a band, but he's prouder than he could ever say with words and he thinks their music is really good :)