#people who have friends they can’t connect to anywhere else

[batwynn]

as a trans person i am beyond disgusted by tumblr's actions and i honestly want to bail out of this hellsite (and i'm not even calling it that affectionately). but twitter is run by conservatives and elon musk, facebook is full of bigoted boomers, instagram is all ads and tiktok is government spyware. i just don't know any safe social media anymore where i can post pictures and art that doesn't either get flagged, harassed or sold to AI.

They sure do love making us desperate for safe spaces to exist and have a community so that they can slide in some of the worse policies and hope that we just let it go instead of being forced to become more and more isolated. I’m sure that’s fine, right? And nothing horrific happens to people in isolation, right?

[steddiecameraroll]

CW: mention of surgery and family member’s death

ao3

Eddie’s not paying attention to where he’s walking when he bumps into someone coming out of a coffee shop.

“Oh,” Eddie steps back and opens his mouth to apologize, when he looks up to see who he’d crashed into.

“You ok?” The man asks.

Eddie tries to respond, wants to respond, opens his mouth to respond but the quirk in the man’s smile is taunting him. It’s connected to a face that could make a man weak in the knees, in fact it’s doing just that right now.

“Ya good?” The man asks again this time putting his hand cautiously on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie can’t do anything but nod. “Alright, watch where you’re going, ok?”

There’s no frustration in his tone, no heat behind his words but Eddie feels like he should definitely do what he’s asking. Before Eddie can actually say anything the guy is walking away down the sidewalk in the opposite direction than Eddie needs to go.

Without thinking, Eddie turns on his heels and follows the man. He’s never done anything like this before in fact he doesn’t know why he’s doing it now, but something is pushing him to follow. He watches the soft bounce of hair on the man’s gorgeous head weave through the crowd but then suddenly disappear.

Eddie blinks a couple of times thinking his eyes have stopped working. He ducks around a few people trying to catch sight of the man but can’t find him anywhere. Maybe he’s losing his mind.

Eddie stops and puts his hands on his hips, swiveling around trying to find the guy. Where could he have gone?

Someone crashes into his back then yells at him for standing in the middle of the sidewalk, reminding him he’s going to be late for lunch with Chrissy.

He apologizes to the guy for standing, only partially sarcastically, then heads back in his original direction towards the diner he’s meeting his best friend at.

“Who was he?” Chrissy asks around a fry.

“No clue, but it was like I had to follow him. I’ve never seen him before.”

“Was he hot?” She cocks her head like she’s figured him out.

“Uh, he- I, yes, but that wasn’t why I followed him.”

“Uh huh, and getting his number isn’t a motivator at all.” She rolls her eyes and tosses her balled up straw wrapper at his head.

“Hey,” Eddie swats her trash away. “I’m serious. That wasn’t it. I don’t know, it was something else.”

Chrissy inspects him from across the table. She knows him better than he knows himself, and she knows he wouldn’t follow some random guy without a reasonable excuse.

“Did he look like someone? Remind you of anyone, maybe?”

“I don’t think so, but- maybe?” He shrugs and wishes he could put his finger on it.

He’s spent the last 30 minutes trying to figure it out but coming up blank. He can’t stop thinking about the man’s gorgeous hazel eyes glinting back at him.

Eddie slings his backpack over his shoulder and shuffles his way off the train. He’s lost in thought, like he’s been for the last several days since running into that coffee guy, and doesn’t clock the group of teenagers rushing towards the doors. They part around him, but one of them bumps into his backpack spinning him around and he stops moving just as they’re ushered into the train. The man reprimanding their behavior is standing just inside the door when Eddie realizes it’s the guy. THE guy. But before his brain sends a signal to his feet, the train door is closing and Eddie stands gawking instead.

When the train starts moving slowly, Eddie’s brain jump starts and he’s rushing toward the train. He can see the guy standing near the window so he starts waving his hands trying to get his attention. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if the guy happens to notice him, but he’s feeling a compulsive need to try.

The train starts speeding up and he still hasn’t noticed Eddie.

“Shit, excuse me. Excuse me! Sorry, shit, sorry!” He weaves around other passengers and races along the train continuing to wave his hands.

He runs out of platform a few feet later and just as he drops his arms he thinks he sees a flash of those hazel eyes peering through the glass. He’s panting hard, his side twinging slightly, when he runs his hand through his hair. That was the most physical activity he’s gotten in awhile, and that’s kind of embarrassing.

When he turns around he realizes he’s almost alone on the platform. Which also means he’s going to be late to work.

“You saw him again? On the train?” Chrissy is munching on half of a banana nut muffin.

“No, yes, but I wasn’t on the train. I was getting off and he got on.”

“He didn’t see you?”

“No, I tried, too. I ran along the side of the train trying to get his attention.” Eddie swivels back and forth in his desk chair while chewing on his thumbnail.

“Ran? You, ran? Next to the train?”

“Yeah, I know.” He sighs and rolls his eyes slightly.

“What were you expecting to do if he did see you?”

“I hadn’t thought that far,” which was true.

“So then he sees you and what? Were you just going to wave? Stand there like a goober and wiggle your fingers at him? I mean, Eddie, you gotta think these things through.”

She has a point but she should know he’s more of an act first think about it later kinda guy. Plus, who knows maybe the guy has been thinking about Eddie just as much has he has. Maybe he would see Eddie and know exactly what to do. It’s possible. Not likely, but possible.

“No?” He lies because that’s exactly what he would’ve done.

“You’re pathetic. You gotta stop obsessing about this dude. You interacted with him for approximately 15 seconds.”

“I knoooooooww,” Eddie whines. “But I can’t explain it, Chris. Ugh. Do you think he’s someone I went to school with? Maybe elementary school so he looks different but there’s something that seems familiar?”

“Why are you asking me? I have no idea. I think you should ask your penis.” She tilts her head causing her ponytail to swish slightly.

“What!?” Eddie squeaks.

“Come on, you’re attracted to him, and I think little Eddie is driving this ridiculous obsession. That’s it.” She tosses her muffin wrapper in the trash can and slaps her palms on top of Eddie’s desk. “You’re getting laid. This weekend we’re going out and I don’t want to hear it.”

“I can’t get out of this can I?” He loves this woman, but he kinda wanted to stay home this weekend and get his one shot campaign finished.

“Nope,” she says with a giggle.

“What about him?” Chrissy yells into Eddie’s ear while stealthily pointing across the bar.

Eddie turns to see where she’s pointing and she’s got to be kidding. “Do you know me at all? No.” He sighs and turns back to his beer.

“Come oooon, you’re not even trying. Ooh what about him?”

Eddie takes a quick glance before shaking his head. “I think this place is a dud tonight.”

“You’re just picky.” She swirls her drink aimlessly looking around the room.

The place is pretty packed for a Friday night, but they were able to grab a couple stools at the bar top, which Eddie is grateful for. Chrissy is spun around facing outward. Her foot is bouncing to the beat of the music playing overhead. She’s all dolled up, on the hunt herself but making sure to keep an eye out for Eddie.

“Ooh,” she gasps and Eddie tries to see what she’s looking at. “She’s pretty.”

“Where?”

“Over there, near the pole.”

Eddie cranes his neck and sees a taller woman with a short bob, wearing an oversized blazer, sleeves shoved to her elbows, and laughing at someone standing behind the pole.

“You should go talk to her.” Eddie nudges her foot.

“You think?” Chrissy keeps her eyes pointed on the woman. “Oh, she’s…hmm,” Chrissy bites her bottom lip and smiles shyly. “She looked at me. She did it again. Oh.”

Eddie hides a laugh behind his drink and risks a glance across the bar. He catches the woman nervously glancing at Chrissy and immediately thinks they’re a match made in heaven.

“Go, I’ll be fine.” Eddie nudges her again. “I’m gonna go smoke anyway.”

“Ok, be safe out there.”

She hates that he has to go out back to smoke. It’s a creepy alley behind a gay bar. The worst he’s ever run into back there are a few rushed blowjobs and some handies. People usually leave him alone, though. He doesn’t really give off a friendly vibe.

Eddie finishes off his beer and slides off his stool with a stretch of his arms.

“Good luck, Cunningham. Go get yourself a lesbian.” He shakes her shoulder gently and heads toward the back door.

He takes a deep breath when the night air hits him. It feels good after spending time in the stuffy bar. He shuffles his way down from the door, and finds a spot against the brick wall. He then pulls out his crinkled pack of Camels, plucks a cigarette out, and slots it between his lips.

While holding his lighter to the tip of his cigarette, the back door slides open and he turns to watch someone walk out.

Oh my god

It’s him

Eddie’s cigarette falls from his lips as his mouth gapes open. He’s moving on instinct towards the man he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about for the past seven days. The man sees Eddie approaching and he gives him a nervous smile. Eddie realizes he doesn’t recognize him. That fact stings more than it should.

“You,” Eddie says with a shakey breath.

“Um, you ok, man?”

“Who are you?” Eddie scans over the man’s face trying to piece it together.

He sees two perfectly placed moles on the man’s cheek and two more along his neck. Nothing that is triggering a memory though.

“Uh, Steve? Do I know you?”

Eddie ducks his head and starts looking over other parts of the man’s body. More moles line the man’s arms and his exposed shoulders from under his tank top. Eddie’s eyes catch on a tattoo on the man’s pec through the gap in his shirt.

“What’s-what’s that? " Eddie cocks his head. "That date?”

The man, Steve, looks down noticing Eddie seeing the tattoo.

“It’s the day I was saved.”

“What?” Eddie’s eyes flick up to Steve’s before dropping back to the tattoo.

It’s the day Eddie’s mom died.

“I had a heart transplant.”

Eddie’s hands drop to his sides and his face slowly relaxes as he starts to wonder if it’s possible.

“Do you- uh, do you know who…? Who your donor was?”

Steve furrows his brows and cocks his head. “Uh, yeah?”

“Who? Who was it? I-I lost my mom that day.” Steve’s face softens and Eddie watches as the man looks him over.

“Elizabeth-“

“Munson?” Steve nods and Eddie gasps covering his mouth with his hand in shock. “Oh my god.”

“She saved my life.”

Tears well in Eddie’s eyes as he reaches his fingers toward Steve. He asks for silent permission to touch and Steve nods. Eddie huffs a heavy breath as he presses his hand to Steve’s chest. He lets his fingers spread out, pushing his palm against him. Before Eddie can take a deep breath he feels the pound of Steve’s heartbeat against his hand.

His mom’s heartbeat.

Eddie looks up with a wet chuckle and sees matching tears in Steve’s eyes.

“I wasn’t going to make it. I was on my last leg and then suddenly there was a viable heart.” Steve places his hands over Eddie’s and stares into his eyes. “Thank you.”

Eddie nods and swallows back the sob he wants to release. Steve runs his thumb comfortingly across Eddie’s knuckles and gives him a sad smile.

“I knew there was something.” Eddie shakes his head. “Since I saw you last week, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Last week?” Steve furrows his brows and then widens his eyes in realization. “The coffee shop. You bumped into me.” He smiles at Eddie fondly.

“Yeah,” Eddie says a little embarrassed. “Then again at the train station. You were with some kids.”

“That was you. I thought I saw you but wasn’t sure.”

“I might’ve chased the train a little.” Eddie shrugs.

“Chased the train? For me?”

“A little.” Eddie’s hand is still pressed against Steve’s chest so he can feel when the man’s pulse kicks up.

“And now you’re here. Somehow. It’s like the universe wanted us to meet.” Steve bites his bottom lip and Eddie suddenly wants to bite it too.

Now that he knows why he felt so pulled toward Steve, he can actually look at the man. It’s like a fog is lifted and he can see Steve in all his beautiful glory.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers.

“Do you wanna get a drink? With me?” Steve asks nervously, and if he could read Eddie’s mind he wouldn’t be so nervous.

“Yes,” he nods quickly. “I’d love to.”

Steve keeps his grip on Eddie’s hand and laces their fingers together before pulling them toward the door.

“I’m here with my friend Robin, but she is getting hit on by the cutest little blonde, so she won’t bother us.”

“My friend Chrissy is a cute little blonde. Wouldn’t that be funny?”

coffee? ☕️🍩💕

[crazylittlejester]

I’m gonna go on a crazy ass rant because I’m upset and also very tired

A huge reason as to why I characterize Warriors the way that I do, regarding his fear of being poisoned and his food anxiety, is a way to explain myself and my own anxieties caused by my allergies, because when I say to someone I don’t think I can eat the food at the party/function/their house EVEN IF it was specifically made to be free of my allergens, they just don’t understand why I can’t eat it. They just don’t understand that just because it’s ‘safe’ doesn’t mean I feel safe enough to eat it, because there’s always that lingering ‘What if’ in my mind that food made outside of my vision is contaminated somehow.

It is so HARD to explain to people the genuine fear that you are going to die because a food created an odd texture in your mouth and you gave yourself a panic attack over nothing. It breaks my heart every time I go to my friends house and her mom offers to make me food because I’ve been at her house for thirteen hours and haven’t eaten a meal with them, because even though she cleans everything and offers to let me watch her make it, there’s still this loud screaming voice in my mind saying that that food is not safe to eat. And it just NEVER goes away. I feel awful because her mom is so sweet and willing to help me, and I just can’t ever accept because I manage to convince myself it’s contaminated every time

I have been dealing with this for my entire life and never not once have I been able to get someone to understand what this feels like or seen it shown in a media form anywhere. I’ve had family and therapists both just tell me to get over myself, because I’m being ‘ridiculous’ and the craziest thing to me EVER is that for the first time in nineteen years, I have had an outlet to throw this frustration into. Warriors and the food issues I have given him are so important to me because for the first time in my life I can explain this fear through a character and even if people may not relate or really, truly get what it’s like, they understand. They understand and they recognize it as a valid fear, and it’s because of a fanfiction about a traumatized war hero. (which is INSANE to me that this is what it took for people to understand, but you know what, I’ll take it)

This rant was inspired because I opened a sealed container of ice cream and the allergen labels were incorrect and now I can’t eat it and I’ve wasted money and I’m so upset and it’s been a really long week, but also because I never saw anyone talking about this when I was a kid, and if I’d had someone there to represent me like this, or just be there for me to connect with, I would’ve felt a lot better. Understanding allergies and food restrictions is so important for so many reasons, the most important being that if you know how to help someone, you can save their LIFE. And for other people who feel the same way I do, it’s so GOOD to know you’re not alone and that there’s someone out there who gets what you’re dealing with

If I can make people understand what it’s like to live life this way, then that is so important to me. If I can explain to people what to do in an emergency situation because their friend is having a allergic reaction, I will, because not enough people understand how allergies work, and I’m sick and tired of hearing stories about kids with allergies who were peer pressured into eating when they didn’t feel comfortable and then suffering the consequences, and I am TIRED of seeing companies mislabel their fucking food.

Also do NOT be afraid to ask any friends or classmates or coworkers with allergies how to use an epi pen because You Could Save Their Life. If anyone is curious, I’LL tell you, or look up a youtube video I’m sure there are some on there

Anyways, this is why I give Warriors the food issues I do in my fics, for anyone else out there with allergies who’s ever felt invalidated by people telling them their anxieties were stupid, and so people who have no idea what it’s like to fear your food will kill you can try to understand that this is the irritating reality for some of your peers. (not that everyone with allergies has this exact experience, I have a friend with allergies who just eats whatever and prays it wont kill them, but I know now that there are plenty of people out there with allergies who DO have this experience)

Sorry for kinda ranting, (I’m just a little guy 🥺), but this is something that is so hugely important to me, and sorry Warriors but you had too similar of a problem so now you get my exact issues 🫶

[genshinluvr]

At Arm's Length

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: After being forced into a marriage with the twenty-five men— technically, you agreed to it, so you weren't really forced into it, you couldn't help but yearn for a genuine connection with the men. You end up expressing your feelings about your marriage with your twenty-five husbands to Lumine, who is also your sister in law.

Note: Short-ish fic for this week since it's been a hectic week for me ;v; Not really sure how I feel about this fic since I do feel burned out from not only school but from writing fanfics as well 😵‍💫 It's a new quarter for me, and I'm just trying to keep up with school, my readings, and writings. I don't think this would count as angst, but just to be safe, I won't be tagging people that don't want to be tagged in angst or hurt/comfort. Next week's fic might be either Tagic Outcomes or Caught in the Crossfire since it's been a while since I've typed something for those two fics. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Would marriage count as a warning?

Word Count: 7k

This strange relationship you have with twenty-five men— it’s fake. There are no feelings attached, no physical touch or intimacy. No strings attached, as your world would call it. Usually, relationships that have no strings attached to them would be friends with benefits. You hate the friends-with-benefits title. It sounds depressing to you because it’s a “friendship” between two people where they do everything a typical relationship would have, only there are no romantic feelings involved. 

You have been in that situation before, but it ended fast because you wanted to be more than that, and the person left because you broke the number one rule. Not to catch any feelings, and that is what you did. Oh, what a fool you are. How could you, a hopeless romantic, be in that kind of situation? You didn’t expect to be in an arranged marriage situation with twenty-five men from an open-world game you’ve been obsessed with for quite some time.

A stack of paper is slammed on the table in front of you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You look up at the older woman, who looks like she does not want to show up to work today.

“Please sign your first and last name here, and your… husbands will sign their names after,” the lady instructs, sliding a large stack of paper toward you.

You look at the stack of papers with wide eyes. These are marriage certificates, and you have to sign twenty-five pieces of paper. You turn to look at the twenty-five men standing two feet behind you. Pierro nods as if he’s signaling for you to go ahead and sign the papers. The majority of the men look uninterested, almost bored. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and turn to look at the papers laid out in front of you. Marriage certificate, huh? You will be legally binded to the twenty-five men for who knows how long— perhaps until they all get bored of you and leave you one day without any notice. Just the thought of being abandoned so suddenly makes your heart clench. How did you end up in a situation like this? 

The woman sitting at the front desk clears her throat, raising her eyebrows at you. “Are you going to sign the papers or not?” She asks with an attitude.

Your face heats up with embarrassment while you mutter an apology before grabbing the pen lying beside the stack of papers. You begin to sign your name on the marriage certificates. A marriage certificate is a contract, and contracts can’t be broken unless necessary. Well, at least that’s what you assume. You don’t have much knowledge when it comes to contracts, but a certain former Archon may know a thing or two about contracts. 

After signing all twenty-five marriage certificates, you step to the side and let each man sign their name on the paper. Each paper is a marriage certificate between you and one man. While you’re technically married to twenty-five men at once, the marriage certificate and the government of the men’s respective regions (if they have one) state that you’re married to one man. Though, you have no idea how that’s going to work out since most of these men live in the same region as the other. 

“There. It’s been done,” Xiao says, grabbing your attention.

You watch each man hand their pens over to the lady behind the desk. She takes the pen and begins to put the marriage certificates in a white envelope with gold borders. You walk to the woman, who begins to hand you each envelope. 

You’re not sure how this works or how it’ll work. You weren’t prepared for marriage, nor did you plan on getting married so soon. The stack of envelopes in your arms starts becoming heavy the more the woman stacks one envelope over the other. While the envelope is thick and glossy, holding the stacks in your arms feels like lead. The woman puts one last envelope on the stack and nods.

“You’re all dismissed,” she says.

You and the men walk out of the building without saying a word to each other. I mean, what’s there to say after something like this? These men found you unconscious outside of Dragonspine. When you came to consciousness, you were met with various weapons pointing at your face. It took you a while to reassure them that you’re not a threat— how can you be a threat when you don’t have a vision or any weapons on your person?

Tensions are high, and silence hangs in the air. The tension is so thick you can suffocate in it. The sun is high in the sky, the birds are chirping, and the civilians are going on with their day, unaware of the situation.

You break the silence. “You guys are acting like I’m forcing all of you to marry me when I never brought up that idea. We can go back to the clerk and destroy the certificates if that makes you all happy,” you said.

“There’s no need to go back to the clerk to have the marriage certificates destroyed. What’s done is done, and you cannot break a contract once it's signed by the party involved,” Diluc says.

Archons, you hate this so much. You weren’t the one that brought the idea up to the men. It was them that suggested it for your “protection.” Ever since you revealed to them that you weren’t from their universe, they suggested that you should get married to them so that they can protect you from the Abyss and other potential harms that could come your way. 

Because you know too much about what happened in their world that they’re unaware of, it was best for them to be betrothed to you to protect you and your identity. At least that’s what you were told. Quite frankly, there could be a better alternative. Still, the twenty-five men were adamant about the marriage option, and you weren’t sure why. You didn’t want to start any more issues with them, so you went along with their choice, and now here you are— married to twenty-five men.

A few months go by, and it’s been a few months since you have been “married” to the twenty-five men, and while you’re their significant other, they keep you at arm's length. Everything feels awkward between you and the men. They weren’t cold or rude to you. They didn’t mistreat you or make you feel alienated from the rest. You’re unsure if it’s because of your lack of relationship experience or if it was something else because everything felt awkward.

Since you are legally their partner for however long, the twenty-six of you need to put on a show to prove that your marriage is legitimate and not illegitimate. No matter where you all are, you have to get used to calling each other partners. They’re your husbands, and you are their spouse.

You’re going to be really honest here. It feels like you’re putting more effort into this role than these men are. It almost feels like you’re the only person that is trying to make it work despite how awkward it is. After all, it feels like an arranged marriage because these men don’t have feelings toward you— at least, that’s what you’re assuming. Since you’re not a citizen in Teyvat, you spend your time at the abode, cleaning, cooking, and watering the plants in the backyard because there’s nothing for you to do, really. 

Instead of Thoma cooking food for everyone, you’re the one that does it. Of course, Thoma was opposed to it at first, but you insisted on cooking because they have jobs and duties to tend to, whereas you’re at the estate doing house duties. 

You wake up around close to six in the morning to start your day. While you hated waking up early in the morning, you thought getting up before everyone else would make the men feel relieved in a way. After all, you don’t work or go to school. You could apply to Sumeru Akademiya and be a student there, but it would raise some suspicions, according to Al Haitham and Kaveh. 

You’re not a fan of waking up at an early time, but ever since you and the twenty-five men have signed the marriage contract, you have been making it a habit to get up early in the morning to start your day ahead of everyone’s schedule. You’re standing in the kitchen in your pajamas, packing twenty-five lunches for each man. You made sure to cook their favorite dishes and include some snacks from the regions they’re from. It’s a lot to do, but you’re getting the hang of it.

“And we’re done!” You mutter to yourself, sighing in relief when you wrap the last lunch bag for the last man. 

You yawn and stretch your arms in the air. You lined the lunch bags next to each other, labeling each bag with the men’s names on it so they wouldn’t mix up their lunch bags with someone else’s bags. That would’ve been a disaster if it did happen. You rub your eyes and walk to the stove, cracking eggs into the pan and begin to cook yourself some breakfast. 

The kitchen door creaks open. You turn your head to see Thoma walking into the kitchen dressed for the day but with a bedhead. You crack a smile and look away before Thoma can see it. Thoma hums softly, walking over to where you’re standing.

“Morning, Thoma. I hope you slept well last night,” you said softly, cooking the eggs before you while Thoma dug through the refrigerator for water.

“I slept well. I hope you slept well, too, because it’s almost seven in the morning, and I don’t understand how you’re able to pack everyone's lunch before we all wake up,” Thoma murmurs, leaning against the counter beside you after grabbing a cup of water to drink.

You shrug. “It’s not as easy as I hoped it would be. That’s all I can say. Everyone has their likes and dislikes, and I have to make sure to prepare the ingredients the day prior,” you reply.

You look at the clock hanging on the wall and reach for the spatula. It’s almost time for everyone to get up for work, and Thoma is the only person that is awake. You’re not sure whether it’s because Thoma is used to getting up early ahead of every other man in the estate or if he’s used to waking up early because of his duties at the Kamisato Estate. But either way, you’re happy to have some kind of company, even if it’s short-lived.

“Thoma, it seems like you have yet to fix your bedhead,” the voice of the Kamisato heir breaks the short silence between you and the housekeeper of the Kamisato Estate. 

Thoma laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “I tried to fix it, but there’s no use in getting it down when it’s stubborn,” Thoma sighs in defeat.

You continue to cook your breakfast while Thoma and Ayato hang out in the kitchen, chatting quietly near the island of the kitchen. You grab a plate and scoop the eggs, putting them on the plate while debating whether you should cook some bacon to go with your eggs for breakfast or not. The kitchen door opens once again, and more men walk into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes while muttering under their breaths.

You let out a silent gasp and smack yourself in the forehead, mentally cursing yourself for being forgetful. How could you make lunch for your husbands to take to work when you forget to brew them coffee and tea?! Dammit, dammit, dammit!

“Don’t hit yourself!” Scaramouche grumbles, smacking your hand away from your face with a small scowl on his face.

“Yeah! There’s nothing to beat yourself over. You made us lunch like you promised,” Gorou says, grabbing the small lunch sack from the kitchen island.

You sigh and rub your throbbing temples. “Of course, I would make you all lunch to bring to work with you all, but I forgot to brew coffee and tea for you guys,” you murmur. “Archons, how could I be so stupid and forget that?” 

“You’re not stupid for forgetting to brew tea and coffee for us, [Y/N]. You were occupied with cooking lunch for twenty-five of us. There’s nothing worth beating yourself over,” Dainsleif says, walking over to the coffee pot.

“I’ll do better next time, I promise. My forgetfulness has caused everyone to be late for work,” you mutter, chewing on your bottom lip. 

Childe throws his arms over your shoulders and pats your head. “Late for work? The clock just struck seven! If anything, we’re up pretty early, and we should leave the house not too long from now. Plus, some of us don’t thrive on coffee and tea,” Childe says.

“You do not need to worry about anything. You’re doing fine, and none of us are upset with you just because you forgot about coffee and tea. Plus, you cooked lunch for the twenty-five of us to bring to work. The least we can do is make our coffee and tea,” Al Haitham says, entering the kitchen with a peeved Kaveh following behind.

Kaveh stands beside you, crossing his arms over his chest with his chest puffing out. You look at Kaveh worriedly and lightly tap his arm. Kaveh continues to glare at Al Haitham before looking at you. You freeze for a moment when he looks at you with the same expression on his face. Kaveh notices your change in demeanor before relaxing.

Kaveh pats your head. “Sorry, [Y/N]! That glare wasn’t for you. It’s for that idiot over there with his stupid noise-canceling headphones,” Kaveh says, shooting a glare over at the Acting Grand Sage.

You weren’t sure if Al Haitham didn’t hear what Kaveh said because of his noise-canceling headphones or if he was intentionally ignoring Kaveh’s comment. You smile at Kaveh and pat his arm lightly before continuing what you were doing before the other men entered the kitchen. Once everyone is awake and ready for work, you pass everyone their lunch bags with their names on them. 

You stand by the door of the estate and bid them goodbyes as they walk out the door. Some men pat your head on their way out, and others either give you a hug or squeeze your shoulders. Despite being married to them for a few months, this is the only kind of affection you were getting from the twenty-five men.

Just when Baizhu is about to close the estate’s door, you quickly stop him by grabbing his wrist. Baizhu stops in his tracks and turns to look at you, surprised and confused. You release Baizhu’s wrist and give him a strained smile.

“Remember to take your medication, alright? I know you work at Bubu Pharmacy, and your job is to take care of others and give your patients their medication, but please take care of yourself as well,” you whisper.

Baizhu looks at you with surprise before giving you a warm smile. Baizhu chuckles softly and pats your head, almost ruffling your hair. You laugh quietly and grab Baizhu’s hand, gently squeezing them.

Baizhu nods. “Of course, I’ll take care of myself. I promise,” Baizhu says, making a crossing motion over his chest.

Baizhu leans over you and presses a kiss on your forehead before walking out the door, leaving you at the entrance of the estate, speechless. You touch your forehead, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You press your lips into a thin line to prevent yourself from smiling widely. You close the estate’s door and lock it.

Before you and the men got married for your safety and to keep Teyvat at peace, they promised to each other and to themselves that they would keep you at arm's length. You’re sweet and down to earth, but because some of them have dangerous professions and you’re not from their world, they wanted to keep this distance between you and them. Your husbands do not hate you, and they’ve made it very clear on multiple occasions.

“If we seem cold toward you, we do not hate you. We don’t hold any disdain toward you, nor do we hold any grudges toward you.” Cyno would say as he is sitting across from you.

You nod and dig your nail into the wrinkly skin of your right ring finger— a bad habit of yours when you were a child that dragged on to your adulthood. You usually dig your nails into the wrinkly skin of your right ring finger when you’re stressed, nervous, or bored. It doesn’t hurt at all, nor could you feel it.

Tighnari clears his throat. “Do you have any other questions?” Tighnari asks, gazing at you curiously. 

You hum to yourself and tap your fingers on your thighs. “I want to know why some of you will be acting cold toward me,” you mutter, puckering your lips.

“To be fair, some of us do it unintentionally,” Albedo interjects.

You couldn’t help but agree with Albedo on that. Some men do come off as standoffish and cold even though they’re not. It’s how they are to people in general, not just you. For example, Xiao is standoffish, but that doesn’t mean he hates you or holds any grudges toward you. If anything, Xiao wanted to distance himself from you because of his karmic debt, and because you’re mortal and don’t have a vision, he doesn’t want to harm you in any way or put you in harm's way. 

“Just don’t do anything reckless that could put you in danger,” Pierro comments, leaning against the wall.

You bite the inside of your cheek. You don’t think you can guarantee that— staying away from danger, you mean. It’s not like you intentionally dive headfirst into danger without warning! You’re getting married to Archons, Harbingers, an Adeptus, a Knight, and many notable figures of Teyvat. There’s bound to be danger in almost every corner now that you’re associated with these men. 

The men stare at you intently while you stare off into space, gnawing on the inside of your cheek. That’s another habit of yours the men noticed almost right off the bat. When you’re deep in thought, you tend to zone out and are not aware of your surroundings. It’s almost like your head is always in the clouds. It’s almost endearing in a way, but your head being in the clouds could also be the reason for your downfall.

“What’s on your mind?” Heizou asks, leaning back in his seat while watching you closely.

You sigh and chuckle to yourself. “I don’t have much going on in my mind, to be really honest. But I do have other questions, but I don’t think any of you are going to give me a clear answer,” you said.

Kazuha sits beside you and gazes at you curiously. You clear your throat and look away, feeling heat slowly creep up your neck. He’s even prettier in person. You wonder if Kazuha knows how pretty he is because he’s breathtaking. Then again, the twenty-four other men are just as stunning as Kazuha. 

“If you want, you can ask us now, and if we know the answer, we’ll tell you. If not, we’ll try to answer it when we have the answers,” Kazuha suggests, giving you a small smile.

You pursed your lips and debated whether you should ask the question. If you were to ask them the question, you worry you might receive the answer you didn’t want to hear. But if you don’t ask the question, you’ll never know what will happen or what to expect. Itto lets out a loud grunt and stands up, stretching his arms out in front of him.

Itto props his hands on his hips and gives you an encouraging smile. “Whatever question you have for us, I think some of us have the answer for it, depending on what it is!” Itto says, tilting his head to the side while gazing at you curiously.

How long will this marriage last? Is what you wanted to ask the men. How long will it last? A few weeks? A few months? A few years, maybe? How long? The time in Teyvat is vastly different from your world, you’re assuming. The days in Teyvat are much faster than the days in your world. You and the men never went out on a date to get to know one another or to form a bond with one another. Would the marriage be convincing because of the lack of bond between the twenty-six of you? Or, well, between you and each man? 

“I don’t know if I want to ask the question,” you mutter shyly.

Venti giggles and trots over to you, throwing his arms around your shoulders and giving you a pat on the head. “It’s okay if you don’t want to ask the question! We won’t pry!” Venti says, releasing you from his hug before walking over to where he was standing previously. 

Zhongli clears his throat. “I would like to remind you all that what we’re all getting into involves a contract. Everyone has to agree to sign this contract mutually. If one person does not agree, then the contract will be invalid,” Zhongli says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Right, you nearly forgot that marriage is a contract with the party involved. It’s not a relationship where people can break up and go their separate ways after. Marriage is a contract, and to get out of marriage is breaking a contract. It’s a long process, and people can’t walk away from it so easily. 

You didn’t remember who proposed the idea of every one of them marrying you to keep you away from danger and to keep your real origins hidden from the rest of Teyvat. It’s strange to you that you have to marry notable figures to keep your identity hidden, even though that’s putting more spotlight and target on you. You don’t mind getting married to twenty-five handsome men but getting married to them so suddenly is something you didn’t expect.

“Are you listening?” Capitano asks gruffly.

You nod mindlessly. “I’m not opposed to continuing this process. I mean, it’s not like I have a choice, really,” you mutter.

“It’s for your safety. If word gets out that you’re not from our universe and you possess the knowledge of Teyvat, you will be hunted down by the Abyss,” Dottore interjects from the corner of the room.

You didn’t realize he was in the same room until now. Now that you think about it, these Harbingers are scattered around the large office inside Dawn Winery. You puckered your lips and leaned back in your seat, crossing your leg over the other. 

You sigh and tilt your head back. “Is the Abyss really a threat to me right now? In case you all have forgotten, you’re all notable figures. Some of you are Harbingers and Knights—”

Diluc makes a disgusted noise.

“Some of you are Adeptis and Archons—”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes and pretends to gag. You stare at Diluc and Scaramouche blankly while the two avoid your eyes. You huff and stand up, propping your hands on your hips. You look at the other men in the room, who gazes at you cluelessly.

Kaeya smiles at you and waves. “Ignore Diluc. He was once a Knight as well, but now he holds a grudge against us,” Kaeya says nonchalantly.

Diluc rolls his eyes in response and glares at Kaeya from the corner of his eyes. You scratch your head, wondering how in the world this marriage is going to work out of some of these men hold grudges against certain groups of people, especially when the others are part of that group.

“So, what do you say? Do you agree to marry all twenty-five of us for your protection? This is also no strings attached, so you can do whatever you want without us controlling you. That applies to us as well.” Pantalone says, holding his hand out toward you.

You sigh for the trillionth time, staring at Pantalone’s hand. No strings attached? How would a marriage work if it’s no strings attached? There are many strings attached to marriages! That only applies if it’s a friends-with-benefits situation, but marriage? Does that even apply to marriages? This got you scratching your head because what?

“I’m not sure what you mean by no strings attached,” you mutter, furrowing your eyebrows. “But yes, I will marry you. All of you. Although I did not think this is how the marriage proposal is going to turn out….” you trailed off, grabbing Pantalone’s hand and shaking his hand.

Childe smirks, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Oh? Did you perhaps want us to dress fancy and make it special?” Childe asks.

“Yes.” you deadpan. “Honestly, if I was dating all of you and this is how you all propose to me, it would’ve been an automatic no,” you add.

“Huh!? Then what should we do to get you to say yes other than making it special?” Itto asks, giving you a look of disbelief.

You hum thoughtfully, tapping on your chin after releasing Pantalone’s hand. “Well, last time I checked, an engagement ring is involved. If we’re going to make this ‘real,’ there needs to be a ring, or else people won’t believe it,” you explain.

“Oh? Do you want us to get you an engagement ring?” Pierro asks, looking at you with an amused look on his face.

You feel your face heat up, and you look away with a “hmph!” The marriage is real, but at the same time, it’s not. Yes, a marriage certificate and license will be signed and given to the twenty-six of you, but this marriage is a loveless marriage. At least, that’s what you assume it’ll be. If you have to marry the twenty-five of them for your safety, you might as well make it convincing, right? Then again, you don’t want them to spend a lot of Mora over a ring.

“Yes, I do. I mean, unless people in Teyvat do it differently,” you mutter, stroking your chin. You shake your head and wave your hand. “You know what? Forget it. It’s not even a real marriage, so why should I want a ring to be involved?” You sigh.

Aether looks at you quizzically. “What do you mean? It is a real marriage,” Aether says.

“Not when the marriage is rushed, and none of you have feelings for me,” you mutter under your breath.

“Either way, the wedding is real because a contract is involved. If it were fake, the marriage license and certificate wouldn’t be signed, and it would’ve been more of a role play,” Tighnari interjects, shrugging his shoulders.

Well, Tighnari’s not wrong about that. Still, the marriage isn’t genuine between you and the twenty-five men. You shouldn’t be complaining when they’re doing it for your safety, but what Pantalone said really bothers you. A marriage that has no strings attached. How would that even work? You get attached easily! 

“[Y/N].”

How would the men react if you told them you wanted the marriage to be real? By that, you mean you wanted them to love you as much as you love them. Is it too early to tell them you love them despite knowing them for only a short amount of time during your stay in Teyvat? I mean, you technically knew them longer than they know you because—

“[Y/N]!”

You feel something smack you in the face. You blink and rub the tip of your nose, looking at the item that fell onto your lap. A bread roll. You clear your throat and grab the bread, glancing up at Lumine, who sighs and props her head up on the table with her arm.

You put the bread roll on the plate, giving Lumine an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Lumine. I didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts,” you said. “What were you saying?”

Lumine lets out a long sigh and leans back in her seat, staring at you closely while tapping her fingers on her biceps. “I was wondering how your marriage is going with those twenty-five men. Specifically, my twin brother,” Lumine says.

“Oh!” You look at her surprised, reminding Lumine of a startled fox she came across many times while on her and her brother’s exploration around Teyvat. “It’s… uh… it’s going!” You say, giving her a strained smile.

Lumine deadpans. “Listen, [Y/N]... I invited you to lunch at a lovely restaurant in Mondstadt so we can chat and catch up!” She leans on the table and looks at you worriedly. “You stared off into space for a while, and you look very upset, maybe almost annoyed as well,” Lumine says.

You gulp and reach for your teacup, sipping your now cold tea. Have you been spacing out for that long? You didn’t even realize it until Lumine snapped you out of your thoughts. You’re not sure if you should tell Lumine what’s been bothering you. Surely she knows the state of your and the twenty-five men’s marriage, right? Plus, it’s not like Aether would be hiding the truth of his marriage with you.

Lumine chuckles, shaking her head. “You know, when Aether told me he was getting married, I was genuinely shocked. My brother? Getting married? That’s something I never thought would happen.”

“It’s a loveless marriage, though,” you whisper in defeat, slumping forward and resting your chin on the table. “My marriage with these men is loveless. There are no strings attached, which I find odd because there’s no marriage like that! I mean… unless it’s an arranged marriage that is strictly business,” you mutter, pressing your lips into a thin line.

Lumine gives you a sympathetic look, reaching for your hand across the table, and gently squeezes your hand. “Have you expressed your desire of wanting the marriage to be real instead of it being an excuse to protect you and keep you within close range?” Lumine asks, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

You shake your head glumly. 

Lumine looks at you with confusion and tilts her head to the side. “Why not? I mean, marriage involves a lot of communication, right? How would the marriage work out if none of you are communicating about your wants, worries, and desires?” Lumine asks.

“Lumine, these men barely show me affection as my husbands. They talk to me, yes, but it's always awkward between us when we speak,” you say, pulling your hand away from hers before reaching for the bread roll and breaking it apart.

“Sounds like you all need a marriage counselor,” Lumine says nonchalantly, leaning back in her seat with a sigh. “I’m no love expert, but trust me, communicating your wants, needs, desires, and worries will make marriage much easier!” Lumine says.

“The last time I did that, my ex laughed in my face and left me for my ex-best friend,” you deadpan.

Lumine blinks at you and laughs nervously, grabbing her cup of water and taking a sip of it. You lightly slam your head on the wooden table, causing the cutlery to clatter from the impact. You close your eyes and turn your head to the side, staring off into space. 

Even if you were to express your wants, needs, desires, and worries to your husbands, you worry that it’ll drive them away from you. Not only that, but you worry that it’ll make them snap you back into reality— the reality that your marriage with them is loveless. The purpose of the marriage is to protect you and your identity from the people of Teyvat, from the Abyss Order.

While Aether and Lumine aren’t the Abyss Prince and Princess, the Abyss Order is still as active as ever. Heck, they might be out looking for you and either kill you for knowing too much information or, worst case scenario: make you the new ruler of the Abyss. You sit up and prop your head up with your elbow on the table, sighing wistfully.

“I didn’t think I would be thrown into marriage a few weeks after my arrival to Teyvat. Now here I am, a few months later, in a loveless marriage with twenty-five men who are unobtainable due to their status,” you ramble, rubbing your face with a frustrated sigh and tugging at the roots of your hair.

Lumine smacks your hand away from your head with a scolding look. You release your hair and let your hands fall on your lap, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue. You don’t care that you’re married to the handsome twenty-five men. You care that it’s a loveless marriage that is “no strings attached.”

You close your eyes and tilt your head back, resting it on the top rail. “A hopeless romantic like myself shouldn’t be in a loveless marriage. I try to find hope in the littlest things, only to be disappointed in the end because I have a hard time accepting that none of these men will ever love me,” you let out a shaky sigh. “There are times when I question if I’m worthy of love because of how many people left me heartbroken. Look at me. I’m in a loveless marriage with twenty-five men who keep me at arm's length. They refuse to get close to me or show me affection. I don’t know how much longer I can handle it,” you murmur.

Lumine glances over your shoulders and then back at you, reaching for her fork. It’s supposed to be a day where you and Lumine hang out with each other. You did tell your husbands that you’ll be meeting up with Lumine, and they’re okay with it. Of course, why wouldn’t they? Lumine stares at you intently, biting on the inside of her lips. Your eyebrows are furrowed, Lumine can see the dark circles under your eyes, and the frown on your face has only gotten deeper. Dear Archons, how unhappy are you? You look like you’re barely hanging on. You look defeated and exhausted.

Lumine clears her throat. “I’m sure they show they care about you somehow, correct? You’re married, and while it’s not like any other marriages, I’m sure they show a tiny bit of affection,” Lumine murmurs.

You crack your eyes open and rest your chin on the table. “Even if they did, it’s not enough that is convincing. They have tried to reassure me they don’t intend on being cold toward me, but it’s hard to tell sometimes.”

Lumine raises her eyebrows at you and taps her fingers on the table. “Do you want the marriage to be convincing, or do you want it to be genuine? No offense, but I’m confused about what you want from my brother and your other husbands,” Lumine comments.

You let out a sharp exhale and bury your face in the table. “I want it to be real. The marriage certificate and license are real, yes, but I want….” You trail off, turning your head to the side so your cheek is resting on the wooden table.

“You want….?” Lumine furrows her eyebrows.

You sit up straight and scratch your cheek. “I want them to love and care about me as much as I do for them. Since this marriage is, according to Pantalone, no strings attached, it makes me feel like I’m not meant to be loved even if I do love someone or something. If that makes sense.” You run your fingers through your hair and puff your cheeks out. “That’s all I want. But knowing them, they will never feel the same way, and I need to accept it.”

You stare at Lumine, who looks like she just saw a ghost for the first time. You look at her quizzically while she slowly lifts her hand and points behind you. You freeze and close your eyes, mentally cursing to yourself. You slowly turn in your seat and open your eyes, only to see your beloved husbands standing there with their arms over their chests, looking at you with unreadable expressions on their faces.

“We need to talk,” Diluc says.

Your shoulders slump, and you nod. You get up from your seat and bid Lumine goodbye before walking outside of Mondstadt. Lumine gives Aether a look when he walks past her alongside the other men. The way back to the estate was silent, other than muttering from other men here and there. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and ashamed for admitting it out loud. Even if you said it to Lumine, you didn’t expect your husbands to walk up to your table while you were rambling.

Now, you’re sitting on the couch while the men are standing in front of you. You feel like a child getting ready to be scolded by their parents for misbehaving. You feel so small, almost inferior. 

“Can you explain to us what you and Lumine were talking about?” Xiao asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

You purse your lips. “Lumine and I were talking about our,” you gesture to yourself and the twenty-five men in front of you, “marriage, and I was expressing my feelings about the marriage.”

“Care to tell us more about it?” Kaeya asks, sitting across from you.

“Do I need to explain it to you all again? I have a feeling that all of you heard what I said to Lumine before I realized you all heard what I was saying,” you commented.

Gorou nods. “That is true, yes, but we want you to say it to us. We are your husbands, after all.”

Archons, this is embarrassing.

“I…” You sigh, staring off into space.

You can’t say what you said to Lumine earlier today. It’s not like you didn’t want to. It’s because you have a hard time expressing your emotions and saying what’s on your mind. 

You shake your head, burying your face into the palm of your hands. “Sorry, I’m having a hard time.” You whisper.

Aether gives you a sympathetic look. “It’s okay! Take your time!” Aether reassures you, sitting beside you and rubbing your arm.

“We want to let you know that we’re not mad at you for telling Lumine how you feel about the marriage,” Heizou says, sitting on the other side of you, sandwiching you between him and Aether.

You give Aether and Heizou a strained smile before looking down at your hands on your lap.

“I don’t know how you all feel about this marriage, but lately, I feel like you all have been avoiding me. The better way for me to put it is you’re all keeping me at arm’s length, and I feel like I can’t get through the walls you’re all putting up.”

“Like Pantalone said, the marriage is no string attached,” Dottore says passively.

You stand up. “That only works for friends-with-benefits situations. We’re married. Marriage isn’t supposed to be like this unless it’s a business transaction like those arranged marriages, but this isn’t arranged. It’s sudden, and I’m an idiot for thinking I’m strong enough to be in this situation.”

“What are you trying to say exactly?” Capitano asks.

“Am I really that hard to love to the point where you all keep me at arm’s length? If I am, we could just end the marriage and go our separate ways,” you suggest.

Al Haitham shakes his head. “That’s not why we keep you at arm’s length. You’re not hard to love. We do care about you, [Y/N].”

“Then why put a wall between us? I’m doing everything I can to have you all open up to me, but it's futile.” 

Kaveh kneels in front of you and grabs your hand. “We put you at arm’s length because we worry that if we end up developing feelings for you, you will return to your world suddenly. We do care about you, and it’s hard for us to act like we don’t love you. We do, and it’s not easy for either of us to keep this distance.”

“I see where you’re all coming from, but we don’t know when I’ll return to my world. I’ve been in Teyvat for, what, a few months now?” You look at the men quizzically.

“That’s the unfortunate thing. We don’t know how or when you’ll return to your world. It’s a constant guessing game, and falling in love with someone and them disappearing out of thin air without warning is terrifying.” Albedo interjects, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“And so is marrying someone and keeping them at a far distance until they disappear! It’s almost a cruel and unusual punishment.” You retort.

“Would you be okay with us starting all over again?” Kazuha asks.

You press your lips into a thin line and squint at Kazuha. What does he mean by that exactly?

“We want to form a connection with you. While we treated you with respect (and will continue to do so), we want to treat you like our spouse instead of a stranger/roommate.” Scaramouche replies. 

You nod, feeling your face gradually become warm. You continue to keep your lips pressed into a thin line to prevent a big smile from forming on your face. They wanted a fresh start. A start where they treat you like a lover rather than a stranger. You’re okay with that! In fact, you like that idea more than whatever’s been happening for the past few months.

“I like that idea.” You say softly.

Cyno smiles and pats your head. “Good.”

A fresh start with your twenty-five husbands. That’s something you didn’t expect would happen, but you’re not complaining. It’s better than having them keep their distance from you.

Note: I'm thinking about giving Zhongli his own collection of one-shots, but I'm not 100% sure if I should do it. I have a lot of ideas for this man, and I want to make it happen, but I'll have to wait a bit and see how it goes before I make it happen. I might make it happen once my spring quarter is over, but who knows. I was distracted by the new Obey Me game, and I was also farming for Baizhu. That's why the update is a bit late-ish other than me tagging people in this post. To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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[momotonescreaming]

STWG Daily Prompt: Posession [Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three]

And so Tommy settles back into the ugly chair, sat diagonal from Steve. He can see the visible relief on his face, the way his whole body sort of melts back into it, sinking into the pillows. His hand almost hovers in the air between them for a second, as Steve lets it hang there, and Tommy can see the bruises. The split knuckles. The tanned skin and dusting of hair. Soft, yet strong.

His own hand twitches, yearns to reach out and grab. Clutch Steve’s hand between his own. To run his thumb in gentle circles on the back of his hand, feeling the downy hair and soothing the anxiety he’s feeling. To feel the callouses on his fingertips, the softness of his palms.

Swallowing a breath, watching as Steve blinks and slowly lowers his hand down. Dropping towards the shitty mattress of his hospital bed. Tommy holds a breath in his lungs, steadies his shakes, fucking steels himself. Lets the thought posses him until he can’t think of anything else. In those split seconds where Steve slowly lowers his hands onto the bed.

And Tommy reaches out and grabs Steve’s hand.

Steve whips his head up to meet his eyes more readily, and the movement shakes him, the other boy wincing at the force of it. Brain rattling in his skull. But he doesn’t pull away from Tommy’s grasp. Doesn’t let go. And so Tommy doesn’t either. Squeezes Steve’s hand, aiming for comfort. Something soothing. Tommy isn’t going anywhere. Not anytime soon. He’ll be here until the nurse kicks him out when visiting hours are over.

A moment.

And then Steve is squeezing back. Holding tight, their hands clasped together. Connected. Anchoring themselves. He’s smiling. Something soft, and small, and just for him. The two of them, joined together in the little room at Hawkins Memorial.

There’s a lot they need to talk about if they really want to do this. Be friends again. They need to talk about Wheeler, and Hargrove, and how Steve said he and Carol were miserable people. Assholes. As if Steve wasn’t friends with them for years and years. As if Steve wasn’t one as well.

But it’s nice like this, just for now. He can feel himself blushing, a gentle pink heat wash across his cheeks, his freckles. Steve’s hand is warm and holding tight, with no signs of moving anytime soon. Tommy’s the same. He just hopes that Steve can’t feel how clammy his hands are, all awkward and sweaty.

Steve smiles at him, soft and sleepy and sort of coy. Ducking his head into the pillows and then looking at Tommy again. He doesn’t say anything. Tommy doesn’t know what to say either. There are so many questions on the tip of his tongue and he doesn’t know if it’s his place anymore to ask them.

How did you get your concussion? How did your face get so cut up? Who did it? Do you still want to be friends? Why isn’t Wheeler here? Do you have other friends? Have you replaced me?

They used to be able to tell each other everything.

“Thank you,” Steve eventually says, not moving his hand. Just resting it at the edge of his bed, stretched out between them. “No one else knows I’m here. So. It means a lot.”

“’Course.” Tommy says with a shrug off his shoulders. “I’m not that much of an asshole that I’d just leave you here after getting that message.”

Something washes across Steve’s face, something awkward and ashamed and sort of frustrated. He looks down at their hands, then back up at Tommy. Almost searching for something. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m here aren’t I?” Tommy asks, trying so fucking hard not to sound angry. Defensive. Let the anger that bubbles and boil over take everything until it flows out of him like it has him enthralled. He’s in it’s possession. It’s a knee jerk reaction, he knows, built up over the years of living with his father. But Steve doesn’t like it, was willing to cut him out because of it. Because he had the revelation that he didn’t like being mean even though they really weren’t that bad. It was the only fucking way to survive Hawkins High. “Speaking of, why doesn’t your girlfriend know you’re here? Waiting until you’re better?”

It feels a little like bile when the words come up. At the very mention of Steve’s Girlfriend. Where is Miss Priss, one Nancy Wheeler? She should be here, giving him flowers and fluttering over him like Steve’s a wounded knight or some shit. It writhes like envy, like anger, at the thought of her. She’d be here with her little notebook and pen, making her own compendium of concussion care. He teased Steve in the showers about her going off with Byers, but he didn’t think she’d actually run off with him. That they had broken up for real. He was mostly doing it to get a rise out of Steve. Anger and hurt and betrayal possessing him to hurt Steve back. He saw how in love with her he was. He’s not trying to hurt Steve now.

Steve pulls a face. It wrinkles, mouth turning down, brows furrowing, and there’s a sadness to his eyes. He looks like that sad, scared kid again. Tommy thinks he’s hurt him anyway. He can see the heartbreak on his face as he speaks. His voice wavers as he speaks. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh shit,” comes out of Tommy’s mouth before he can stop it. That absolute bitch. What the fuck did she do. Did she really run off with that freak, Byers? Maybe he should have spray painted more shit about her, back when he did the movie theatre marquee. He’s not going to do it now, much as he wants to. Steve wouldn’t like it. “Fuck, dude.”

“It’s fine,” Steve says, shaking his head. Although he hasn’t quite hidden the hurt on his face. “She was better off with him, so I broke up with her.”

A pause. Steve sighs. “You can say it. I told you so.”

“Nah. I’m fucking trying alright?” Tommy says, squeezing Steve’s hand again. He’s just glad he didn’t bring up his taunting. He hopes Steve can see how much he’s trying now, just by being here. It’s a start. “To not be such a miserable asshole, or whatever.”

Doesn’t mean he’s not thinking it though. That Nancy Wheeler is a bitch who played with Steve’s heart and ruined everything. He’s just not saying it anymore. Fucking progress or whatever. Plus Steve sure as shit isn’t going to be mean about it. Voice his anger and hurt and heartbreak. So Tommy can do it for him.

“Means a lot.” Steve says, chin wobbling a little as he speaks.

[Part Five]

[therainscene]

Something that struck me about Will’s bedroom in S4 is how asexually it’s decorated:

This boy is about to turn 15 and yet there’s not a single hunk to be found anywhere on his walls! Being closeted isn’t an excuse -- there’s plenty of plausible deniability in having posters of your favourite musicians, athletes, characters, etc, as our extremely heterosexual friend Michael can demonstrate:

Perhaps Will just is asexual. After all, outside of his chaste love for Mike, we only ever see him express his sexuality in the form of revulsion towards girls/heterosexuality; he honestly seems kind of neutral on men in general.

However... I don’t think that’s what’s going on here.

Will happens to conform to certain 80s stereotypes about gay men -- he’s sensitive, well-groomed, prefers art over sport -- and these traits have made him a target for homophobic abuse, probably since before he even realized he was gay.

Imagine how it must have felt, then, when he finally did realize he was gay. The bullies were right about that, all along. So what else were they right about?

What other stereotypes plagued gay men in the 80s? They were seen as threats that wanted to recruit children into their “lifestyle”...

...as disgusting perverts...

...and as carriers of disease.

Even as a 12 year-old with an innocent crush on his best friend, this poor kid already feels ashamed of a sexuality he hasn’t even matured into yet. So when he does start maturing into it, he represses it.

It’s no wonder that he identifies with Alan Turing, a man who was chemically castrated for being gay.

Who else do we know who might identify with what happened to Alan Turing?

Henry is queer-coded by way of parallels to Will: he’s sensitive, well-groomed, and likes art. Like Will, he had a parent who tried to make him more “normal”. Like Will, he’s suffered abuse for being different.

But Henry is also queer-coded in a way that parallels those homophobic fears about “the gay agenda”: he preys on children, recruiting some and killing the rest. He’s angry at the world for not having space in it for people like him, but it doesn’t occur to him that he could peacefully co-exist with the rest of society -- he wants to burn it all down and remake the world in his own image.

The thing is, homophobes are telling on themselves when they express such fears about gay men -- because what they fear queer people will do to them is what heteronormative society is already doing to queer people. Like Henry, they think this is a zero-sum game in which only one side can “win”.

So I don’t think Henry’s queer-coding is meant to be read literally as him being a predatory gay man.

Rather, he’s a personification of homophobia: the homophobe’s gay boogeyman made flesh.

(When it comes to other characters, he personifies a more broadly-applicable version of this concept. But the Duffers have stated that S5 will focus heavily on Will and his coming of age, so I think this queer reading of Vecna is a deliberate and central one.)

If Vecna represents external homophobia, then the Mind Flayer represents internalized homophobia.

Vecna sends it after Will and it literally gets inside him, burying his true nature under a layer of torment. It’s partially defeated when his family and friends see what’s happening and shower him with unconditional love, but it lingers at the back of his head as he starts to go through puberty, flaring up when he’s near or otherwise thinking about Mike.

The only time he doesn’t have to deal with these flare-ups is when he’s in California, far away from both Vecna and the homophobic town he grew up in. And he gains a lot of confidence in his identity while he’s there!

But, as the asexually-decorated bedroom suggests, he still feels a lot of shame too.

Will can’t fully self-actualize as a gay man until he breaks his connection with Vecna once and for all...

...with the boy who makes him feel like he’s not a mistake by his side.

[vixentheplanet]

heartbeat

“everything about you is speeding up my heartbeat.”

shuri x black!reader | 18+

Summary: You live a privileged life of luxury as the heiress of Esme Hotel. The majority of your time was spent partying and drinking all over the world. One night, at your father's request, you find yourself at a charity event where you meet the Queen of Wakanda. Your friendship was instant, but the love was unexpected.

Love was not a feeling you were familiar with, but as time passed, you realized you were in love with Shuri. Shuri meant too much to you to risk losing her by telling her this, but you weren't doing a good job of dealing with your new emotions.

word count: 5.4k

themes: heiress reader, falling in love because love is beautiful

warnings: excessive drinking, some drug use (y/n is a rich party girl having the time of her life), and insecurities.

hi- my first post lmaoooooooo i was going to add versace on the floor to this at the end BUT i can’t find the document 😩🫨

Life is a funny thing. 

If somebody had told you six months ago you would be meeting the love of your life, you probably would have laughed in their face. As the heiress to Esmé Hotel’s, a global luxury hotel and resort business, you weren’t interested in settling down because, in this life, it was hard to find genuine connections with people. Of course, you didn’t have a hard time making friends. People clung to you everywhere you went. That was your life, money, glamor, parties, and disingenuous people. For you, it wasn’t that bad.

Love was the last thing on your mind, but again life is funny. 

Tonight you returned to New York City from Ibiza; it was your best friend's birthday, and one day wasn't enough to celebrate her. You and a group of "friends" flew out to the Balearic island and spent a week fueled by drugs and alcohol with little sleep and many bad decisions, but you couldn't remember them to regret them. The fun ended when your father called to say he was sending the private jet to take you back to New York. 

Pepper Potts, the CEO of Stark Industries, was hosting a charity event in the ballroom of one of the Esme Hotels, and your father asked you to attend in his place because he couldn't. The company was auctioning an all-inclusive trip to any Esme resort in the United States. Usually, your brother would fill in for him, but they were both in Monaco on business, leaving you as the only option.

You opted for a piece from the Zuhair Murad Couture 2023 collection, a stunning pink sequined midi dress paired with a matching floor-length scarf. Your pink Giuseppe Zanotti Iride crystal sandals went perfectly with the dress. When walking the red carpet, you smiled and posed, trying to make it not appear as you’d rather be anywhere but here. You got through without any problems, and as soon as you entered the ballroom, you went straight to the bar. Was there anything else you were supposed to do? Mingle? Network? You didn't need any of that and intended to leave after making arrangements with the auction winner.

Of course, the staff knew exactly who you were upon your arrival, and the bartender quickly came over. “Marco, the usual, please.” Within seconds a French martini was in front of you. “Thank you, I’ll need another one in about five minutes.” You say, sipping the martini and scanning the crowd. 

There were many people here, some of whom you recognized as reputable business professionals in their respective industries, some celebrities, and government officials. Most were just nameless faces. If they weren’t in the tabloids or someone your father had introduced you to, there was no way of you knowing them. 

Suddenly, a man in an awful powdered blue suit approaches you and leans on the bar. "Hello, sweetheart. I'm surprised to see you here. Where is dear old dad?” 

This man, whoever he is, was a stranger to you, but he clearly knows you. As much as you wanted to tell him to fuck off, you were here to represent Esme in place of your father and didn't want to make a PR nightmare or accidentally upset a valued shareholder.

You flash your perfect fake smile before replying, “My father couldn’t make it. He’s stuck in Monaco overseeing the construction site for a new hotel.” 

“So I guess you’re being auctioned off?” He jokes. He's too preoccupied with the drinks to see the look of utter disgust on your face.

“Excuse me?” You say, completely appalled. If this person is someone your father knew and trusted, he would never dare to treat you so rudely and endanger the future of their business relationship.

This asshole has the nerve to seem surprised that you didn't appreciate his compliment. “Oh, come on. I’d pay top dollar to hit that.” He makes a humorous sound, and before you can react, someone else chimes in.

“That’s rather disrespectful, don’t you think?” In front of you is a figure you've only seen on television while news commentators discussed whether the world needed access to vibranium. You may have changed the channel repeatedly, but forgetting such a striking face was difficult. The Queen of Wakanda was stunning in a sparkling black jumpsuit, accompanied by two Dora Milaje warriors who stared down the man who had insulted you.

Who would have guessed Queen Shuri would be coming to your rescue? “You see a beautiful woman and lose your manners?” Her expression is fierce, and her gaze is harsh. Unable to answer her questions, the stranger stood there with eyes so wide you thought they could pop out of his head.

You smirk, taking a sip of your martini. Not so talkative now, asshole.

Her next words were a demand, not a request. “Apologize.” 

He turns to face you, and you can’t help but smirk with satisfaction, waiting. “I-I- I’m sorry,” the man stutters and is smart enough to walk away quickly.  

Once the man is out of view, Queen Shuri focuses on you. You place your drink on the bar and try to think of the proper way to greet royalty. You definitely can’t bow in this dress. You settle on a slight curtsy. “Thank you, I would bow, but this dress is too tight.” You explain. 

The Queen laughed and flashed a smile at you, "There is no need to bow, and I must say it is a very exquisite dress." 

You feel your cheeks warm. That must be the alcohol. “Finally, a normal complement,” you say playfully in light of the incident that had just transpired. “The jumpsuit is gorgeous. I’m Y/N Esmé,” you say, holding your hand out. 

She takes your hand in a firm grip and shakes. “You wouldn’t happen to have any relation to the golden Esmé hanging outside the venue?” She questions, raising an eyebrow. 

“That would be correct. Just the Heiress, nothing too exciting.” 

“Nothing too exciting,” She mocks. “An heiress and great sense of humor.” 

You prepare to respond when Pepper appears, looking a little frazzled, most likely running around to greet and show her face to guests. “Hi, Y/N. Thank you so much for coming.” She gives you a quick hug. 

“Do you mind if I steal the Queen away?” She asks. It was a question, but it was just for pleasantries. 

A little, you thought, but responded, “Not at all. It was a pleasure to meet you.” You tell Shuri, and she nods. “You as well,” and like that, she leaves as quickly as she had come, and tonight just got a little more interesting.

During the auction, you bid on a gold Steinway & Sons grand piano and paid $150,000. You thought it would look good in the lobby, and the money would go to a good cause. It turns out that you weren't the only one who felt generous. To your surprise, the top bidder for the vacation at an Esme Resort was the Queen of Wakanda herself, who bid $500,000. It was relatively high, given that the prize was only worth half the amount.

Later, you track down Shuri to find out where you should deliver the information for the trip. "That will not be necessary. I don't usually travel for pleasure." She explains, leaving you perplexed as to why she paid such a high price for a vacation she did not intend to take.

Your eyebrows raise. “Why did you bid on a vacation you have no interest in taking?” 

“It’s for charity. Besides, Money is no object.” 

Charming. You appreciated the way this woman was endearing and bold. Nothing like the dull, self-absorbed people you knew. An idea came to mind. “Follow me,” You say, bringing Shuri to the bar again. 

You lean over once you reach the hightop, getting the bartender's attention. 

“Marco, a pen, please.” The man behind the bar responds quickly, "Absolutely, madame," before scurrying to fulfill your request. He returned with a gold pen, the one given to the guest, and you grabbed a napkin writing down the digits of your number. 

“Here,” you said, holding the napkin out to Shuri. The Dora Milaje member accompanying her eyed it with suspicion. A business card would have been more appropriate, but the only card you carried was black with no spending limit. This napkin was the next best thing, “If you’re ever in New York and need a place to stay or a friend, text me.” 

That was the start of a meaningful friendship. Six months had passed since the Stark Industries event, and you and Shuri became inseparable. You spent time together whenever she was in New York, sometimes for a few hours, sometimes for a few days. You took her to several restaurants, art studios, and museums. The Dora Milaje was just a little behind, but it felt like it was only you two in the universe. If Shuri visited for a lengthy period of time, she'd book rooms at the Esmé and frequently find her way onto your couch, where you forced her to watch almost every reality TV show known to man. She had a lot of catching up to do.

Those moments were when you were genuinely alone and often held deeper conversations in the safety of your living room and each other's company. She told you about her father's death, her brother's death, and the tragedy that took her lone surviving family member. All of this led to her bearing the weight of the crown and becoming Wakanda's defender. You recall hearing the events on the news, and a small irrational part of you feels guilty you couldn't be there for Shuri, even though you didn't know each other at the time.

You tell her about your upbringing. How your father was never present, preoccupied with working for his father and one day taking over the family legacy. Your mother had been a free spirit who had turned into a stay-at-home mom; she had your brother and then you seven years later. Having suffered from postpartum depression in addition to a long-standing sense of being trapped and ignored, she simply left.

Your Family was a difficult topic for you; life wasn't all sparkle and glamor. Since losing a loved one caused you so much distress, you realized you probably suffered from abandonment issues. The "friends" you'd gained stuck with you because they benefited from being affiliated with you. You knew those people didn't care about you as a person, and you were okay with it because it prevented anyone from getting close to you.

It was something you never opened up to anyone about because, truth be told, you never formed a connection deep enough with someone to open up the way you did with Shuri.

You're not sure when these feelings blossomed into love, but it hit you one day while you sat in the Esmé's empty Luxury Cinema. When you mentioned your favorite movie to Shuri, she said she'd never seen it, so you dragged her to the hotel's theater. Your living room's flatscreen wasn't big enough for a first-time movie experience. As Shuri watched Shrek, the two of you enjoyed an assortment of concession snacks.

Even though it was your favorite, it was difficult to concentrate on the film with Shuri's infectious laughter next to you. Shuri's laugh unexpectedly became your favorite sound in the world. She laughed at the TV every time someone said something witty. She chuckled at your jokes, even if they weren't particularly amusing. Always full of positive energy. 

In her company, you felt safe and valued. You couldn't stop thinking about her when you were apart, which was regrettably a lot. The time until you could see her again was something you counted down in minutes or perhaps even seconds when she left.

You were awed by every aspect of her. Her brilliance, heroism, strength, and bravery. It was that moment when her eyes lit up as she watched Lord Farquaad interrogate the Gingerbread man when you realize you love her.

Shuri was in town for a UN meeting on Thursday night; ordinarily, she'd let you know when she'd be in town so you could plan something together, but she didn't. You got a text an hour ago wondering whether you'd be home because Shuri was planning on dropping by before returning to Wakanda. It hurt a little to know she was here but didn't inform you. Did she start to get bored with your company? 

You cut those thoughts out before texting back. You'd be home waiting. 

She made it to your penthouse and was currently lounging on your couch watching a rerun of Real Housewives. Shuri pretended she didn't like the show, but you both knew it was her favorite way to spend quality time together.

Unlike the other instances, it was quiet and tense, but you knew it was your fault. Even though Shuri decided to come over, you couldn't figure out why she wouldn't tell you she was in town. You video-chatted and texted frequently, but you only had so much time together in person. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” You asked. The question sat heavy in your mind, so you finally decided to ask. 

“Is that why you’re being all grumpy?” She accused, poking you with a socked toe. 

You reached over to swat her foot, “Don’t call me grumpy. You should have told me.” You hated how needy you sounded.

“I got so caught up in my lab I honestly forgot about it,” Shuri admits. “It was very last minute. Also, I figured you wouldn’t be here.”

Your sensible thinking takes over, and you can only say "Oh" as you realize how silly you are behaving. It made you feel a little ashamed for some reason. Even though this was your home, you were never there. 

There had been enough late hours and shared stories for you two to know enough about one other's lifestyles. Shuri had been thrown into the role of Queen at such a young age and held immense responsibilities. On the other hand, you are a well-known socialite whose late-night antics frequently trend on social media. That way of life wasn't as appealing as it once was. Knowing what Shuri went through and her bravery and resilience made you want to be better than you were.

That's why you've been attempting to reconnect with your father nowadays. As you grew older, your father realized how careless he had been during your childhood and constantly made attempts to connect, which you rejected. 

“Actually, I was in Monaco with my dad.” The construction of the Esmé resort in Monaco was going well, and your father had asked if you wanted to visit the site. In the past, you would say no you probably would’ve been busy, but your free time had opened up a lot more since you weren’t going out too often. It didn’t attract you as much anymore. 

“That’s wonderful, Y/N.” she was genuinely happy to hear that, knowing how strained the relationship was with your dad. 

“Yeah, it was nice, but I need another vacation.” You groan, throwing your head back on the edge of the sofa. 

“You could always come to Wakanda,” Shuri says casually, just like your head snaps. “I would love to show you my nation. I trust you.” She adds. 

“Stop joking,” you say, trying to laugh it off and pretend those words don’t have your brain removing all the knowledge you’ve accumulated in your years on earth to ensure you never forget this moment. 

Shuri doesn’t know how much her words affect you. You’re in love with her but could never tell her that. It wouldn’t work. For once in your life, you were the one in lack. Truthfully you had nothing to offer. You hated it. 

“Y/N,” She calls out to you, but you’re not listening. The television remote has become more interesting than this conversation as you try to bring your focus away from the woman of your dreams sitting suddenly too close for you to breathe. 

Shuri sits up slightly and reaches for the remote, stealing your attention from her. Sometimes, she seemed to have forgotten her strength. Instead of taking the remote from your grasp, you find yourself being tugged forward. The unexpected shock throws you off balance and causes you to tumble sideways. Shuri reacts immediately, pulling you back with one hand and securing the other around your waist to keep you upright.

That’s how you end up on her lap, looking down at her as she says, “I trust you,” again—staring directly into your eyes so you can see the honesty swimming through hers. Your heartbeat quickens as you struggle to comprehend what has just occurred. She holds you close, your hair falling in her face, and you laugh because that’s what you do best when things are too much.

You move the hair out of your face so you can see her clearly, “Shuri-” The sentence gets caught in your throat. While the romantic feelings were there, the sexual ones were there too. There have been too many occasions when you've woken up from a vivid dream and found it hard to believe her hands hadn't been coaxing some of the most intimate sounds out of you.

The way she looked under you. 

Your resolve was breaking.  

Her eyes flicker down and then back up. Your delusional mind starts to take over, imagining what it would be like to have her lips on yours. You wanted that so bad, if only you dared to lean down. There was stopping you from crossing that line, and it was dangerous. 

As if sensing you were going to fail its test, the universe takes mercy on you. 

Shuri’s kimono beads begin to ring, interrupting the moment between the two of you. You quickly move from off her, the skin on your face feeling warm as you take in the fact that you just had Shuri right underneath you, her hands holding tightly to keep you stable. You tried to move your thoughts elsewhere, not letting them get too carried away. 

A holographic depiction of General Ayo appeared. “Panther, we’re prepared to head back to Wakanda.”

Panther. Why was that so sexy? 

The Wakandan Queen is a little out of it, blinking a few times as she takes in the message. “Enkosi Ayo, I’ll be out soon.” Ayo salutes, and the hologram disappears. Wakanda’s technological advances always leave you amazed. 

Shuri looks apologetic. “I’m sorry, I must go.” She stands up and moves to retrieve her jacket from the coat closet. You needed distance from each other to prevent any uneasiness from developing.

“Better hurry, don’t keep Ayo waiting. She'll know it was my fault.” You tried to lighten the tension from the moment you’d just shared. 

“Ah, please, Ayo adores you.” She puts on her jacket and shoes before turning to you. “Don’t watch any more Real Housewives without me. I want to pick up where we left off once I return.” She says. You have to stop yourself from saying you can pick up exactly where you left off now, not talking about the show. 

“You got it,” You tell her as you both step into the foyer. It's always difficult to say goodbye to Shuri because all you can think about while she's gone is how much you miss her. For a split second, you think she'll say something else. She'd hold you close and tell you she's staying if you had your way.

Shuri's gaze lingers on you for a second, and you swear it's quiet enough for her to hear the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat. “Goodnight, Y/N.” She hugs you, and just like that, Shuri’s gone. 

You were in a daze from the event that transpired minutes ago. Your cheeks were still hot, and you felt as if you were suffocating. Your anxiety kicked in as you were left alone in such an empty space. 

Although you had never experienced love before, you did not doubt that you were head over heels for Shuri. She cared for you on a human level and treated you as such. You couldn't think about anyone else but Shuri. You recognize your vulnerability, but it's hard to be apart from the one you love, even if they don't realize it. But, keeping your emotions in check was becoming increasingly difficult, and today proved that.

You were used to people wanting something from you when they came into your life. To go on lavish vacations on your dime, to be seen with you, and to improve their reputation. It didn't disturb you that you were surrounded by those who did nothing but take from you because, well, they were still there. Being alone has never worked for you.

You groaned dramatically, throwing yourself onto your bed. There was no doubt in your mind it would never work out. Shuri was too sophisticated and well-established, and yes, you were an heiress, but what did that mean to the Queen of the most advanced nation on Earth? Nothing. 

It was all so overwhelming. Something had to give; you needed to find a way to get these thoughts out of your head before they jeopardized your friendship with Shuri. You took out your phone and contacted a couple of your friends to ask if they had plans for tonight, and your friend Amaya texted you the information about an event starting at ten o'clock at one of her mothers' VIP clubs. Hanging out with Amaya was always fun and guaranteed a night of dancing, drinking, and getting high. You didn't want to feel anything, so you’d do whatever to numb your thoughts.

Deciding on an outfit was tricky, but you eventually decide to go with the green Attico Magnolia sequined mesh midi dress, pairing it with crystal sliver Rene Caovilla sandals. An SUV awaited you outside the hotel, and you were on your way. The night flew by, and as soon as you found Amaya, she handed you three shots and half a pill, and you shoved it down your throat. That was all you could recall distinctly as the night progressed; after seven drinks, you lost track and swallowed the other popper. You had a lot of fun on the dance floor but left when the talk became too suggestive. Why would you go home with someone other than Shuri? You need another drink.

The drinking and dancing cycle continued until 3 a.m. when your feet ached, and you needed to get into bed. The SUV returned you to the hotel, and security ensured you arrived securely at your penthouse.

You were back on your own, without a sense of direction, but you did know one thing: you missed Shuri. You want to see her, kiss her, and adore her. You reached for your phone and dialed her number without thinking. You placed your phone on the bed and stared at the ceiling, waiting for her to speak, but she never did.

I’ll leave a voicemail.

With the chemicals disrupting your mental state, you allow your emotions to take over completely. "Shuri, you are the most incredible person I've ever met... and I'll never meet somebody half as beautiful as you." Your words are slurred but honest.

“I need you to come back right now. I love you. I can’t not love you. I can’t lie, I can’t pretend, and I don’t want to. I love you. You’re all I want so much it hurts.” That is the last thing that left your lips before you inevitably drifted into sleep. 

When you woke up, the pounding in your brain was merciless. You have no idea how you got into your bed while still fully dressed down to your shoes. Fortunately, there was an Excedrin and a water bottle on the bedside table, thanks to your security guard. You take the pill with water before changing your clothing and preparing for a day of movies and takeout. There was no way you were getting out of this bed today.

You enter your walk-in closet, pull off your dress, and change into a ridiculous I LOVE NY tank top that Shuri had given you as a joke. You didn't bother putting on bottoms, it was your home, and you could go around in your underwear if you wanted to. You entered the bathroom through a door that connected to the closet.

Using the claw clip that was lying around, you clipped your hair. You brushed your teeth and reached for your face wash. The corded phone in your bedroom rings as you turn for the sink, the sound loud and piercing. Groaning, you return to the bedroom, assuming it's someone from the front desk.

Nothing could have prepared you for the appearance of a figure inside your room. Your brain recognizes the person before you as you open your mouth to scream. You believed you were hallucinating for a split second. 

“Jesus fuck, Shuri! What the hell!” You scream, grasping your chest, relieved you weren't abducted, but your heart is pounding.

The phone was still ringing. You moved past Shuri to answer it. Startled, hungover, and annoyed, what a morning you thought. 

“What?” You yell into the receiver, instantly regretting your tone as the person on the other line stutters out, “Madam Esmé, you have a guest coming up. I apologize we could not reach you on your personal cellular device.” 

The visitor must have been Shuri. Why had she returned? You looked at her curiously, trying to figure out what was happening. Last night you sent her off back to Wakanda; not even 24 hours went by, and she’s back leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and jaw tight. “Uh, sorry. I see that, thank you.” You hang up the phone and turn to Shuri, but keep your distance. 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but you scared the shit out of me. Why are you back so soon?” 

“You.” Your body tensed at her tone. 

“Me?” 

“You weren’t answering your phone. I called you multiple times. Do you know how worried I was?” Your heart sinks. Did something happen? Had she needed you, and you weren’t there? You couldn’t even remember where your phone was. 

"Oh my God, I'm such an idiot, Shuri. I must have left my phone." This isn't the first time you've misplaced your phone after a night out. You felt slightly embarrassed about being questioned about your whereabouts last night while wearing only your underwear. Even more, you felt horrible that you worried Shuri so much that she had to travel here to check on you. 

Shuri’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “Y/N, what do you remember from last night?” She asks, changing the subject, even though you were clearly a little discombobulated. 

“Well,” you rub your temples while trying to recount the events. “I went out to a club in Manhattan, lots of shots, a few pills, and everything else doesn’t matter. I'm home.” Blacking out didn't bother you as long as you weren’t hurt or dead. 

The room was silent. “You called me.” 

The words make your blood run cold, “Oh,” is all you can say. What could have been important enough for you to drunk dial Shuri? 

“Oh.” You repeated as the hazy memories returned. With Shuri in front of you, attempting to restore your recollection of last night, the puzzle pieces begin to fall into place.

I need you to come back right now. 

I love you.

I can’t not love you.

Ironic. You went out for temporary release from your feelings for Shuri and instead ended up confessing. If it weren't for the weight of the situation, you probably would have laughed. 

Thoughts race through your mind as you struggle to find a way to make this right. Denial was the best option. “Whatever…” you start but trail off to find your words. “Whatever it is I said, just forget it. It wasn't me talking. I shouldn’t have drank so much.” 

Shuri shook her head as soon as the words left your mouth, “Don’t insult my intelligence.” She says, narrowing her eyes. “That doesn’t make your words any less true.” 

“I want you to look me in my eyes and tell me, sober.”

“I would have told you if I was sober.” You snapped back. You don’t know why you were upset, but you felt like an idiot. The vulnerability was a nasty feeling, your heart was laid bare, and moments from being broken, you felt the need to defend yourself.

“Why?” Shuri asks with so much sincerity it breaks your heart. 

“Why?” You repeat back. “Because, you’re so good, too good even. I’m used to knowing what I bring to the table for people, money, fame, and popularity. You don’t need any of that. You don’t care for any of that. What could I possibly have to offer you?” Tears blurred your vision and collected at your lashes.

Shuri pushes from the wall, her eyes filled with fire as she approaches you. "Stop doing that." Her order stops you from speaking as she carefully lifts her tattooed hand to your face, forcing you to look at her. "You have this awful habit of shutting down and shutting me out or speaking negatively about yourself."

She continues. “There’s so much depth to you, yet you hold yourself back from what you deserve.” 

Your heart flutters. That is the reason you adore her. She was a steadying presence, reminding you of your worth and letting you know that the world only sees a fragment of who you are. You allowed her in because you always knew you were safe in her care.

You felt secure enough to begin speaking about what you'd been holding back for so long. It wasn't a secret any longer. Shuri knew you loved her and deserved better than a drunken late-night phone call.

Fuck it. 

“I love you,” you confess. “You make me feel so cared for and protected and safe. I don’t know how to handle this. It's all new to me. You don’t have to feel the same way, but.”

You sigh to catch your breath. “I love you. And I don’t want to lose you.” 

Her thumb moves to caress the side of your face. “I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t feel the same way.”

“As soon as I heard those drunken words of the woman I love telling me she’s in love with me, I returned to her as fast as possible. I needed to see her beautiful face light up when I told her she’s everything to me.”

The relief you feel hearing those words brings more tears to your eyes. “You love me?” 

Shuri brought her free hand to your waist, embracing you as she whispered, “So much, angel.”

You stare at her, overwhelmed by the adoration you find behind those beautiful brown eyes. She loves you. She loves you and came from Wakanda to confess. 

Before your brain can process what's happening, you rush forward, putting your lips to Shuri's. It’s just a soft press at first. You melted into Shuri because you could now – relief swimming through your veins as you nipped at her bottom lip. 

All you can think is how right it feels to kiss her, to be in her arms. Cliché enough, this is what life is all about. Love, being loved, being in love. Letting go and diving into it, you feel weightless. 

The kiss grows intense as Shuri leans in further. When she kisses you, it's like she's starving. Shuri pressed her way back in, kissing you with a desire that pulled the oxygen from your lungs. You're so desperate that you moan against Shuri's lips as she opens her mouth and passionately kisses you back.

“I had all my meetings pushed back. Unless there's an imminent danger, I’m all yours,” Shuri informs you. You like the sound of that. Shuri lifts you instinctively as you wrap your arms around her neck. You lock your ankles around her waist, gathering her closer and closer, wrapped up in each other. 

You pulled your lips apart to move lower, leaving a trail of kisses from her jawline down to the tattoo on the side of her neck. "Good, 'cause everything I want to do involves you in that bed." You motion to the bed beside you.

As you fall into satin sheets, you cling to her and won't let go. Now that she's yours, nothing could ever come between the two of you.

[blue-bujo]

Bowled Over (Roy Kent x Reader): Chapter One

You work at a bowling alley and a young girl named Phoebe has a birthday party there. You catch her uncle's eye.

Roy Kent x female reader

Will try to update roughly every two weeks

Chapter One: The Other Beautiful Game

Words: 1.9K

Content: Kent-level language (you know what you're in for)

Cricket. Polo. The real football.

There were many popular sports in England, but the downfall of all of those was the fact that they were all at the mercy of the weather. That was why, in your humble opinion, the best sport in the world was bowling.

You were fully aware that the rest of the world definitely didn’t consider it a real sport, and that was fine. But to you, it was the best. No other sport could be enjoyed by 4 year olds and 94 year olds at the same time, all while having full access to a pitcher of beer and never being rained out. Nor did any other sport create friendships so instantly while in good natured competition. It certainly had for you.

You, the army brat, who had moved every year and always ended up being the new kid with the accent different from everyone else’s, had always found common ground in whatever bowling alley had been closest to base. Bowling was its own language, its own gateway into other people’s lives. When you’d finally stayed somewhere for more than two years when you were in high school, you’d made yourself a fixture at the lanes. You stayed in England for college – no, university – and worked your way through every beer league and youth camp you could. The bowling alley was your home, and you ended up staying even after your father retired from the army and returned to his hometown with your mother. Your place was here, behind the counter and coaching leagues.

It was a shallowly connected life. You had a few friends from your own league, as well as your coworkers, and some regulars that you absolutely loved, but mainly, you saw people for five minutes while they paid and figured out which size their rental shoes needed to be before they went to the lanes and you watched from a distance, telling yourself that it was fine.

One day, and especially lonely one, you were scheduled to work a children’s party. You were slightly hung over from the pitcher you’d shared at your league the night prior, and weren’t looking forward to all of the noise that children would inevitably cause. Taking a preemptive Excedrin, you pulled up your hair and braced for the worst.

The birthday child was a blonde girl who was all smiles, leading seven little friends and their adults behind them. You plastered on your best customer service smile and got through the chaos of check in, shoes, snack bar follow up, and lane assignments, then collapsed in your chair to stare into space for a while, until someone needed you.

The respite was brutally short.

You didn’t notice at first, but eventually you realized that you had somebody standing at the side of the counter. It was because of his shirt. Anywhere else, it would have stood out obnoxiously, but the red, orange, and yellow tie dye blended into the colorful walls. You turned quickly once you realized he was there.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” you blurted. “How can I help you, sir?”

The man – you recognized him from somewhere, you realized, but you couldn’t place where – startled at how quickly you acknowledged him. He had very expressive eyebrows, which shot up his forehead in surprise. He pointed at the lanes where the blonde girl’s group was bowling and grunted, “One of the little shits that my niece is friends with threw a ball right after another kid and hit the thing that pushes the pins out of the way, and now it won’t go back up. Can you fix it so their days won’t be ruined?”

You couldn’t tell if her was mad at the lane or at you; it seemed like he was angry in general, judging by the deep creases between his eyebrows. Best to take a cautious approach with him.

“I can’t fix it, but I can call the tech. Just a second.” You grabbed the intercom, but didn’t click it on. “It’s the gate on 15, yeah?”

“The what?”

“The black sweepy thing, on Lane 15?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Quickly, you called out, “Pete, I need a gate reset on Lane 15, please” over the speakers. Then you turned back to the tie dye man.

“Cheers,” he said. “Phoebe will be happy now.”

“That’s your niece? The blonde girl?”

He nodded. “Yep, that idiot.” He smiled and waved toward Phoebe, who was trying to get his attention. “She made me this shirt. I wouldn’t have picked it, but she made it, so I wear it to all her things.”

“It’s a good look. Matches the décor here,” you teased. “I almost didn’t see you, and you were right in front of me.”

A grunt was the only response you got. Fearing you’d been rude, you cleared your throat and continued. “Well. I’ll be here for the rest of the day, if you guys need anything else. You know where to find me.”

Another grunt, and eyebrow guy was gone, leaving you to put your head on the counter in embarrassment. That was so awkward!

You stewed in your awkwardness for another half an hour; nobody else came in to distract you. Distraction didn’t come until you got a call from the snack bar, signaling that they needed you to run the pizza to Phoebe’s group. Inwardly groaning, you picked up the tray and a stack of plates, and expertly balanced them as you walked to Lane 15. Phoebe and her friends were excited to see you, and their enthusiasm evaporated some of your self-pity. These seemed to be good kids.

“Okay,” you said, putting your hands on your hips and leaning down conspiratorially, “I only have two rules for you. Rule Number One: No pizza or drinks on the approach. Rule Number Two: I don’t want to see any pizza fingers in those balls, because someone will have to clean them.” You pointed at yourself as you said “someone,” which made all the kids laugh. “And Rule Number Three-”

“You said there were only two!” interrupted a young boy. Tie dye guy glared at him.

“Well, I lied,” you shrugged. That got a laugh from everybody. “Rule Number Three: Help Phoebe have a happy birthday!”

All of the kids cheered. Satisfied, you walked over to their grown-ups. “If you guys need anything, I’m Splits.” You tapped your nametag, bearing the kitschy bowling nickname that the manager had made you pick. “I’ll be at the counter.”

Your nickname drew a few chuckles and sympathetic smiles. One of the younger adults, who you also recognized in addition Phoebe's uncle, fixed you with a flirty look.

“Do they call yah that because you can do the splits, or…?”

“No, because I leave plenty on the lanes.”

He looked like he was trying to come up with another quip, but Phoebe’s uncle elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut up, Jamie. Not everyone loves you.”

Jamie, unperturbed, elbowed him back. “Whatever, Coach. It was worth trying. Sorry, Splits.”

You realized where you had seen him before. AFC Richmond was the local football club, and the young man was none other than Jamie Tartt. And now that you had figured out who he was, you had to ask, no matter how much it pained you…

“Can I get a quick photo? The owner likes us to whenever we have a celebrity guest.”

Jamie’s chest puffed out before he looked at tie dye man; you got the feeling his coach had lectured him before about showboating. “Sure, yeah, if that’s how it’s done here.” He checked his hair and grabbed a bowling ball. “Where do you want meh?”

“Uncle Roy should be in the picture, too!” piped Phoebe, shooting her uncle a pout. “He’s more famous that Jamie!”

The man you’d talked to at the counter, who you recognized but didn’t know where from, was named Roy? And Jamie had called him “coach?” Was he Roy Kent? How had you not realized?

It had to be the tie dye. Had to be.

“Fuck no, I’m not getting in a picture with that prick.”

“Please, Uncle Roy?” pleaded Phoebe. “It is my birthday.”

A grunt. You were beginning to think that they were his primary language, in combination with swearing. Roy Kent stood up, rolled his eyes, and got next to Jamie Tartt, glowering.

You reached into your back pocket and took out your phone to check how things looked. Bowling alley lighting was never great, but it was especially bad today. Jamie popped, because of course he did, but Roy melted into the wall, his obnoxious shirt effectively camouflaging him.

Thinking quickly, you went to the racks, grabbed a bright blue bowling ball, and brought it to Roy. He just stared at it.

“And what am I supposed to do with this? Throw a fucking strike on camera?”

“No, I just need you to hold it,” you huffed. “The camera can’t see you; your shirt blends in too much. Just take this, please, and this can be over.”

Without giving him a choice, you pushed the bowling ball against his arm. He took it awkwardly, his fingers brushing yours. You thought he shrank into his shoulders after that, but it could have just been him settling the weight of the ball, so you couldn’t be sure.

You took the picture and sent it to your manager, who started freaking out and texting a sentence at a time, but you retreated back to your counter after that. The rest of the afternoon went quietly. Phoebe’s party ended, and you watched as Roy and Jamie gathered all of the kids’ rental shoes and brought them up to you to return.

Sorry for flirting with yah earlier,” said Jamie, dumping an armful of footwear. “Old habits and all that.”

“It’s no problem,” you replied.

He gave you a wink and sauntered off. Then Roy deposited all of the shoes he was carrying.

“Thanks for being cool. Phoebe enjoyed it.”

“My pleasure. Sorry for the picture.”

“It happens. People are weird about fame.”

“Sorry all the same. Hopefully it wasn’t too awkward.”

Roy Kent wouldn’t look at you, and instead focused on a spot on the counter. Then he gave a last grunt and walked away, sticking out a hand to hold Phoebe’s. You watched them leave before grabbing a bottle of disinfectant to spray down the shoes. As you did, you mused that, for being a football manager and a player before that, Roy Kent was really awkward when it came to being recognized.

The sound of running feet tore your attention away from your thoughts. You looked up, ready to shout at some kids for horseplay, but it was Phoebe, running back to the lanes and grabbing a jumper that she had left. Then she jogged back to the desk, stopping on the way out.

“I had a really fun time,” she said.

“I’m glad,” you replied warmly. “I hope to see you come back.”

Phoebe smiled. “I think I will. I overheard Uncle Roy telling Jamie that he shouldn’t call strangers ‘fit,’ even if they are, and I think they were talking about you. Bye!”

She pranced off to rejoin her uncle where he was waiting for her at the exit, taking his hand once more. You could see them talking, and something she said made him look up abashedly at you. He held your gaze for just a moment, then threw Phoebe over his shoulder and stomped away. You had the rest of the night to ponder the fact that Jamie Tartt and maybe Roy Kent had considered you attractive. It made up for the awkwardness of the photo. Almost.

[cameronspecial]

Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 8)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Drinking, Driving While Impaired and Overdose.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: An argument with Wards sends Rafe to the hospital and this brings Y/N to a sudden realization.

A/N: This does deal with a serious subject matter and if you are suffering from an addiction, please know that you are not alone and that there are many ways that you can seek help. If I got anything wrong or forgot a warning, please let me know.

Masterlist

Rafe wakes up the next morning with the worst hangover of his life and he groans at the realization of what happened last night. He carefully makes his way to his bathroom to freshen up. The sound of him moving the debris around with his foot is the only thing that can be heard in his room. After finishing up in the bathroom, he decides to get something to eat and drink to hopefully help cure his hangover. However, the mention of his name coming from his dad’s office stops him in his tracks.

“I can’t believe you would say those things to Rafe, Ward. You know that wasn’t true,” Rose criticizes her husband with a disapproving look. Ward rounds the corner of his desk, sitting on the edge and bringing her between his legs, “I did what I had to do Rose. With her back in town, Rafe needs to be reminded of where he belongs and I will keep reminding him of where he is needed. Just like I did when he was applying for university.” Rafe’s eyebrows knit in confusion. Rose lets out a sigh. 

“Did you really have to do that? I think he really did want to go to the UK.”

“No, he only wanted to be there because that’s where she was going. If I hadn’t deleted his acceptance emails and sent him fake rejection letters, he would’ve followed her across the world to only realize he made a mistake.”

Ward’s confession causes Rafe to see red. He opens the partially closed door and barges into the room, “You had no right to do that! I wanted the choice to choose and I would’ve chosen England even if Y/N wasn’t going because it would get me away from you.” Ward’s shocked look on his face indicates he wasn’t planning on Rafe what he had done. “No, you wouldn’t have, Rafe. You never talked about that possibility before you started dating Y/N.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you never gave me a choice? You had my life planned for me without giving me a chance to think about what I wanted. When I started dating Y/N, she made me realize that travelling abroad was an option that I never considered but found interesting. You know, if you had given me the chance, my plan was to go to England to make some foreign connections to, maybe, expand the business there. But, no, you don’t think I was smart enough to think of anything intelligent for the company.” 

At the end of his rant, Rafe just shakes his head and leaves the room. He takes his keys out of his pocket with the plans of heading to Barry’s. 

——

Rafe enters the trailer without knocking, earning a surprise look from the resident of the house. “Country club, you can’t just barge in like that. What if I had a lady over?” Barry complains, getting up from his couch. Rafe ignores him, rifling through Barry’s stuff, “Where’s your coke? I need more.” Barry just gives him an apologetic look. 

“Sorry, country club. I’m afraid I’m fresh out.”

“No, you’re not. I see powder under your nose. You wouldn’t finish all of your stash.” 

“Okay, you caught my lie. But I’m cutting you off. You’re good for business, but as your ‘friend’, I am worried about you.”

“Worried about me, my ass. If you aren’t going to give it to me, then I’ll just go to someone else. I’m tired of people thinking they know what’s best for me.”

——

Rafe has been going from party to party looking for someone who would give him the drugs he needed, but he couldn’t find a single dealer anywhere. The lack of drugs didn’t stop him from drinking any alcohol he found. It was only at the last party late into the night that he found someone. “You got coke?” Rafe questions in more of an authoritative tone than an inquisitive one. The tall blonde looks over at him, “You got cash?” He pulls out a thousand, not caring if he is overpaying, all he cares about is the substance that will make him forget the pain. She doesn’t say a thing as he hands it over and gives him several small baggies of white powder. 

He exits the party, hopping into his car. Rafe forms the lines of the powder into several rows on the dashboard. He begins to snort his normal amount of cocaine. As he finishes the final line, he shifts the car out of the park and heads over to the beach. The hour-long drive to his normal beach from the Cut side of the island is worth the quiet sounds of the waves. Rafe sits by himself on the sand and that is when he starts to notice how suddenly feels colder than the warmer summer night should be making him. His hands are clammy for some unknown reason. The next thing he notices is the manner in which his body begins to feel a little limp. He lifts his hand and it falls down as if he has no bones. Finally, his slow breathing is the last thing to catch his attention before his eyelids close to bring him to sleep. 

——

Mason has been driving around the whole of the island trying to pin Rafe down. Find My Friend had been left on for both of them and when Wheezie called informing Mason of the argument she overheard, he hopped in his car and began his chase. Rafe never stayed in one place for too long, so seeing him stay at the beach for longer than thirty minutes, Mason feels like his prayers were answered. The first thing Mason sees as he checks Rafe’s car is the residue from the drug on the dashboard. Worry floods his system, realizing that Rafe has been driving while intoxicated.

Mason runs to the beach and his whole body is filled with apprehension upon witnessing Rafe’s lying on the beach. He runs towards Rafe, pulling out his phone to call 911. After informing the dispatcher of where he is and what happened, he checks for breath that is not there  and begins CPR. Once Rafe starts breathing again, Mason lays Rafe on his side to protect him from choking on his vomit. Hearing the siren from the paramedics helps relieve some of Mason's stress. 

——

When Y/N got the call early in the morning, she didn’t care what state she was in, she took her mom’s car and sped to the hospital. Her normally cautious driving style is thrown out the window as she speeds through yellow lights and stop signs. She hastily parks the car and runs to the hospital room number Mason told her. Seeing Rafe in the hospital bed almost brings Y/N to her knees. Instead, she buries her head into her brother’s chest and lets her emotions release itself. After a few minutes of crying in Mason’s hug, she looks up at him. “How is he?” she whispers, casting a glance at the sleeping figure. 

“He’s stable. Doc says he should make a full recovery. She thinks the coke he snorted was laced with fentanyl.”

“Are you okay? It must have been hard to see him like that.”

Now, it is Mason’s turn to unleash his emotions. He leans forward and places his head into the crook of her neck. She feels his tears leak onto her skin. “He wasn’t breathing. His lips were turning blue. I thought we were going to lose him,” he cries to her. 

“I know, I know. I wish I could’ve been there for you.”

“I don’t. I don’t want you to ever have to see him like that. It would break you.”

“You’re right. I just wish someone was there with you. Has his family seen him yet?”

“They have, but they are in the cafeteria for some breakfast while he is asleep.”

“Right, makes sense. You should probably get something to eat too. I’ll stay with him. I promise.”

Mason nods his head and places a gentle kiss on her forehead before he goes to eat. Y/N sits down on the chair beside the bed, taking his hand into hers and resting her head against his thigh. She lets herself release a few more tears she has been keeping in because of the thought of losing him. She lifts her head up, placing a kiss on the back of his hand. “I really wish you would have talked to someone about how you’ve been feeling instead of turning towards drugs. If you would’ve come to me, I wouldn’t have turned you away. I would’ve tried to help you. I promise,” she whispers to him. “If you want me, I promise that I’ll help you get sober because I can’t see you like this again.” She takes her phone out to cancel her flight. There is no way she is going to leave with him in the position he is in. Y/N doesn’t remember falling asleep with her head on his bed. 

Rafe groggily wakes up without an understanding of where he is or what happened, but when he sees Y/N, relief spreads over him and he places his hand softly on top of her head. He runs his fingers through her hair. He can’t believe she is here for him. He doesn’t remember why he is here, yet he is thankful that she is. He can’t stop the pull of sleep calling him back. 

——

The entrance of a nurse wakes Y/N from her slumber. “Hi, sweetie. I’m just here to give back his personal belongings,” the older lady informs her, handing Y/N the large Ziploc bag of Rafe’s possessions. The nurse leaves the room and Y/N takes the time to open the bag. She finds the normal things, like his wallet, his keys, the clothes he was wearing and his phone, but one thing sticks out to her. A gold chain with a circular pendant hanging from it. She takes the necklace into her hand and flips over the charm to see a familiar-looking rose imprinted on it. She can’t believe he actually kept the necklace she gave him. He must have been wearing it if it was in the bag with his stuff. How long has he kept it with him, she wonders. A feeling of warmth spreads through her body. 

This whole time she thought that he hated her, that any love he had for her went out the window when she broke his heart in his dorm room five years ago. Sure everyone keeps telling her that she is the only person he could ever love, but she didn’t exactly believe them because of how he treated her. However, seeing this symbol of their relationship changes everything for her. If he held onto this, then a small part of him must have been holding onto her. This causes her to feel strange in some way she can’t understand. Hope she didn’t know she was holding onto her flourishes through her. She doesn’t know what this means for them, but she does know what she needs to do. 

Y/N gets up from her seat, placing a kiss on his cheek. “We are going to figure this out, Cameron. I know we can,” she mumbles against his cheek. She places the necklace around her neck and brings the pendant up to her lips.

——

Cole opens the door with a smile on his face that drops once he sees the serious look on her face. “Is everything alright?” he asks, moving out of the way so that she can enter the hotel room. She just looks at him with a sad look. “Rafe is in the hospital. He overdosed,” she croaks out, letting herself be wrapped into his hug. He kisses her forehead. 

“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Yes, but not in the way that you expect. Cole, I’m sorry to say this but I think we should take a pause on our relationship. I’m not asking for a break-up, but I just need some time to figure things out at the moment. This might be strange to you, but I need to help him recover. I know he is going to need me.”

“No, I understand. You and Rafe have a special connection and I know how important that will be in helping him get sober. Take all the time you need. Come back to me when you are ready. I’ll be waiting.” 

Y/N looks up at him with wonder in her eyes, “I don’t deserve how understanding you are. Thank you. I promise that I’ll come back once I have him settled.” She knows what she said isn’t technically a lie, but a small part of her thinks it might not be the entire truth. 

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you @winterrrnight @maggiecc @magicwithaknife @loves0phelia @jiarapamuk @blisslove @baby19sthings @thelomlisrafecameron

[hopeyarts]

Are you on that Starboy crap?

I’m going to assume that you don’t like Starboy. If you do actually like him, then I don’t detect it anywhere here. It’s things like these that make me backoff from sharing stuff about Starboy, because in truth I like the idea of it. But ultimately, I can’t please everyone so whatever.

Firstly, I’d like to address in defense of those who love Starboy and as said from Star’s section in the concept book, the first phase was a series of Star in various human forms. Star’s young Sabino form is the THIRD phase. So don’t try to use the excuse of ‘Starboy being Sabino’. Read, please. Respectfully.

Anyways, if you haven’t already figured it out, I like to look at different routes. I can’t stick to just one, so I make multiple routes with multiple scenarios and storylines and characterizations. So I guess this is a good time to address both my opinion on Starboy and my ideas for Star in general.

I think Starboy would’ve been an adorable addition. He’s great, the ship between him and Asha is great, and every redesign I’ve seen of him just makes me love him more. I’m aesthetically drawn to characters at this point, which is a reason I like designing. The only thing that I question about Starboy is his own story. I don’t typically like the idea of him being *the* wishing star, but rather an extension or ‘child’ of the Blue Fairy. Him being childish and curious would be supported by that idea, because you can’t really rely on a higher power if that higher power is reliant on you teaching him about Earth.

So I like the idea of Starboy, but not the story of him being the sole wishing star. He can be childish and curious under the circumstances that the Blue Fairy is highest power/wishing star. I mentioned this in my illustration of the Blue Fairy, so.

Anyways, ideas for Star!

Because I see a lot of people already have the idea of Asha x Starboy in their works (love them all 💖), I decided to think of more paths we could’ve taken with Star in general. You can refer back to the Art of Wish book for all of his forms, but I’ll go into ones that I’m renovating into my own ideas.

• Starchild: I have two ideas for this. A: What if Star was a child? When we were younger, we wished for many things and dreamed of many dreams. Maybe Star could’ve been a child, because of my idea with Star being a ‘child’ of the Blue Fairy, Asha calling down Star right then and there could’ve been the start of his new life. It’s like him being born when he’s sent down to Earth. And it’s a reference to how wishes and wonder can seem childish, but good-intentioned. His magic is almost chaotic-like, so it could add on. Then B: What if Star was a younger version of ASHA? Don’t really know how this would work, but really Star would’ve been a manifestation of Asha’s younger self (typically when she wished for her father to get better). It’s like connecting with your inner child and rekindling your dreams. That’s just a small idea.

• Platonic Star: Could be of any gender, I don’t really care. But what if Star was just platonically involved with Asha? I know Wish was never going to be a romance story, so they could’ve just of had Star be humanoid but have them still be friends. I’m sure someone already has this idea for a rewrite somewhere.

• Sole Star: An idea where Star *is* the wishing star but is mature and an adult and with no specific gender. Maybe a little feminine to act as Asha’s maternal figure? If I wouldn’t go with this idea, then I’d have had the Blue Fairy be Asha’s maternal figure. Sorry, Sakina (I should make a rant post about Sakina and Sabino 💀🙏🏽 I kinda got beef with them).

I’m okay with Star being the thing we got officially, but come on. They could’ve added more to the character. Like depth? Clarification about what exactly it is? A star sure, but what else? The one star song didn’t answer any of Asha’s questions nor ours. Was it just born when Asha wished upon it because she’s the first one to do so? Sighing. Disney.

Favorite Star concepts:

Least favorite…:

What a jumpscare.

Despite the possible dislike of Starboy, thank you for the ask. 💖

[twopoppies]

Gina , am I the only one who regrets having a kid ? Is it normal to have regrets ? I feel tied down and my husband is so free. Do people enjoy being a parent ?

Hi love. Plenty of people enjoy being parents. But almost no one talks about the difficulties and the downsides. I don’t know how long you’ve been a parent but I’m assuming it’s fairly new, so my suggestions would be:

1. Make sure you have a support system. You need to find a way to have time to yourself by having a someone who can take over when you need it (family, babysitter, friends, etc). I highly recommend parent groups. Facebook is probably a good place to look if you don’t know anywhere else to go. You can usually find local groups that meet up at parks or play spaces. I had twins, so there were numerous groups focused on raising multiples. It’s incredibly helpful to connect with other parents going through things at the same time you are.

2. Therapy if it’s financially feasible. There are also many therapists who will see clients on a sliding scale or in small groups in order to cut the costs. I can’t express the value of having a trained and unbiased sounding board enough.

3. See a psychiatrist (again, if financially feasible. If not, speak to your GP). Pregnancy and the trauma of giving birth drastically change your hormones. Lack of sleep and stress affect everything. It’s not at all unlikely that you could need medication to help regulate your mood and thought patterns.

4. Talk to your husband. In my experience, men really don’t understand how hard being a mother is. Especially if you’re at home and they go to work every day. It’s lovely that he feels free (although, that may just be your interpretation. Again… talk to him), but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your mental health. It’s possible you’ve given him the impression that you’ve got it all under control, or you don’t like the way he does things, etc. It’s possible he feels intimidated or overwhelmed. It’s possible he’s just totally clueless (would not be surprised by this at all).

I’ve been a parent for seventeen years and as much as I know and have experience with, there’s always something new and it’s really fucking hard to keep your head above water sometimes. I’m sending you lots of love. You can do this. But it’s exponentially harder to do it alone. Reach out and get the help you need. You’ll be a much better mom (and much happier person) as a result. 💖💖💖

[stygiansun-totaleclipse]

Author you can’t say there are rumors out there about MC and NOT tell us what they are 😩 and does the MC have any groupies 👀❓(whether in the empire or anywhere else)

🤭 teehee (also u guys can call me Fen if you want)

Most of the rumors surrounding MC and their siblings revolve around their connection to their grandmother, the Mad Empress. People outside of Theia assume MC is just another power-hungry bloodthirsty royal and that MC, like their grandmother, has been hunting other Starfellans and Celestylians to use their ichor for themself in an effort to become immortal. Some of MC’s own soldiers wonder if that might be true—if MC really has consumed more ichor or if perhaps they’ve inherited some of that from their grandmother and if that might have…changed them. Made them more powerful—given them powers one with Theia’s blood would not normally be privy to.

There are even whispers that MC and Nour were complicit in their own siblings’ deaths in an effort both to climb the line of ascension and to harvest their ichor, or if not complicit that they still harvested the ichor from their bodies to use in themselves. After all, why let it go to waste? Though one should take care never to mention such rumors around the pair; MC does not take kindly to such vile slander and while Nour is quite slow to anger, their temper runs hot once that fire is lit.

As for groupies, MC has admirers, sure, but right now really only in the empire. I wouldn’t necessarily call them groupies considering most people treat the royals with some distance—a large part of Theian culture is all about respect, so it would be improper for lower ranking individuals to act too informal with the royals. Most Theians revere the royals as akin to holy figures seeing as they have a bit of their goddess’s own blood in their veins, so MC is well revered (and also feared) both for their royal status and for their contributions to the war effort. MC is respected at court but they’ve also been away from court for many years as they’ve spent the majority of the past several years in the battlefield, so their relationship with most nobles has been either as their commander or they haven’t seen them in a long time. Their soldiers respect/fear them, but still, MC has found it difficult to make any real friends with how people put them on a pedestal. Their only friends right now outside their siblings are Aurynn, Samira, and their Theian serval, Farwah. In private people might fantasize about or fangirl/fanboy over MC, but it wouldn’t do for them to fawn over MC where someone of importance might see them. Imagine the scandal! 🫣 Lucien/Lilith could be considered MC’s groupie—perhaps their only one outside of Theia at this point and the only one who doesn’t care enough about decorum to hide it. Most people outside the empire are very unhappy with the Theian royal family, so MC is going to be VERY unpopular in Celestyl.

[livannasalinger]

Dc x Dp prompt 3

I was thinking lately that most of the prompts and fics that I see, they range from: focus on Danny, focus on Jazz, oneshots here and there with some different characters, maybe sam and tucker, but not much more than that. Of course, ultimately, the idea of Dc x Dp goes through the importance that Danny has to establish this connection (ghost king, meta laws, being a hero, classic black hair and blue eyes of the Waynes, etc etc) and focus more on relationships with DC characters (batfam, superman, Wonder Woman, etc) . At the same time, I've recently been thinking about how there are few fics that portray the rest of the Casper High as a functional group (not counting Everlasting trio). And then, there's this fic that I really like (see prompt 2) that talks about a different way that the incident with Spectra could have happened. With all this, I thought:

- what if, these incidents with the ghosts made the group more cohesive: I'm not talking about everyone being super friends, although that can be cool, but I'm talking about actually seeing them build a dynamic because they need to protect themselves from danger and they can't get help from anyone else -  Justice League doesn't interfere/doesn't know/doesn't believe

- Anyway, X years pass, the events of DP (except Danny's revelation to the world) occur, but unlike canon, the children mature faster, and start to blossom like powerhouses - imagine Assassination classroom and how they became after graduation, that kind of thing.

- But that's when things start to get interesting, because "out of nowhere" a group of people with impressive skills and suspicious training in different areas begins to appear, young people trained in things they shouldn't. At first, the connection was not clear, as everyone is in different areas, but little by little a pattern starts to become clearer: maybe their presence, maybe some more ghostly physical characteristic.

I see two ways this starts to get noticed:

-- At a Justice League meeting, several superheroes start listing people of interest and justifying why. They might have noticed these people as possible future villains, or maybe they want to recruit them, or something like that. The point is: when one person starts talking, another hero starts remembering that he knows a similar person, a pattern starts to be observed, an investigation starts to be made.

OR

-- An investigation is already under way, as there is a group of people who came from the same place, started to become influential in the field of choice, and nobody can prove, but many suspect that this group is responsible for the disappearance of a mysterious government organization called GIW

In any case, an investigation begins showing  the different ways that the Amity Park group has grown to be BAMF including: Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Jazz Fenton, Valerie Gray, Dash Baxter, Paulina, Kwan, Star, Wes weston.… maybe even Ellie and Dan.

The investigation proceeds, old photos of the group can be found and they notice the disappearance of only one person: Danny Fenton. Which makes no sense, as he is seen multiple times with all the suspects, but effectively there is no record of him anywhere: no college, no job, not even how he gets from one place to another, no plane ticket, nothing.

It would still be really cool if everyone in the group followed certain customs, derived from the lessons they received on how to deal with ghosts or because they are Liminal and that's why they behave a little differently and, even if they've been living with "normal people" for years , sometimes they just forget common sense and scare people without intending to.

The conclusions that the JL, villains  and other groups, can come to are potentially hilarious: are they villains? what are their goals? Are they a secret cult with this Danny as their leader? Are they or are they not doing something illegal? Are they a threat? And if so, a threat to whom?

At the end of it all I can see Mr Lance showing up and thinking "how come this is supposedly the most powerful group of people in the world?!" and in 5 minutes solving any chaos or misunderstanding like:

"Pride and Prejudice, not even Mr. Weston was that bad" (looking at Red Robin's conspiracy board)

[thewarinourstarwars]

Like Different Stars

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Tartaglia/Lumine (Chilumi)

Summary: “It’s because I trust you the most that I have a favor to ask.”

Her head swiveled. He had grown more serious now, the tired warrior having returned.

“What’s the favor?” A part of her knew she should dismiss it immediately, as she wanted no part in Fatui schemes.

And yet she knew that she would be yanked around on the strings of the Tsaritsa like a puppet no matter what road she took here. Somehow, no matter what she did, it had a way of playing out well for the Fatui in the endgame.

And a part of her could not deny Ajax what he wanted, could not betray the fondness and trust exchanged now in the night, in this secret reunion.

“I need to you to hang onto this for me.” He removed his Vision from his belt. “I can’t explain why, but I can’t have it right now and I need someone to keep it safe.”

OR

Childe trusts Lumine with his Vision for safekeeping.

“Ah, it’s great to see you again.” Childe sighed and looked up to the night sky above them.

The lights were so bright here, that Lumine could only see pinpricks from the brightest stars, far from the swirling galaxies that she was used to seeing over even the most advanced cities of Teyvat. 

Seeing only faintly-twinkling pinpricks made her feel uneasy, as weak as she had felt when she’d first awoken on that beach in Mondstadt. For so long, voyaging across the sea of infinite stars between realms had been her only constant, the last comfort and security after her forgotten homeworld had been destroyed. 

There was something else about Fontaine that set Lumine on edge, made her skin prickle and all her hair stand on end. She could see it in the eyes of the smiling people, always darting to the mechanical guards and the shadow of the islands looming overhead. She could hear it in the mumbles and whispers of an old prophecy, of a day of judgement coming. 

She could close her eyes and ears and pretend not to see it, pretend not to notice it. How many worlds had she done that in, never to question their fates again? That is, until now. 

She looked to Childe, and thought of how the thin white streak in his hair had grown wider, stark against the lively copper. His eyes were brighter than usual, the way they only were around Teucer or in the heat of battle. He was always more alive when he looked at her, when he was by her side. 

He was her enemy, allied with the Tsaritsa who had hurt her friends, who was threatening the world that had become as much of a home as that first one had been to her. And yet, like Teyvat, against her will she had become fonder of him than she’d ever confess. 

“It’s good to see you too.” The words came out, barely above a whisper. Maybe she even hoped that he wouldn’t have heard it, forgotten it over the silence of her reverie. 

But no such hope was honored. 

He looked back to her, ocean eyes shining like the waves in the moonlight of the canal outside of the grand hotel. 

“I had no idea I meant so much to you, Traveler.” There was a teasing edge to his voice, but beneath it was something much more genuine. “I thought you still hated me, even after our adventures in Inazuma together.”

Lumine shrugged. “I’m still not going to be a friend to the Fatui.”

“But to a Harbinger?” He raised an eyebrow.

Lumine looked back to the waters. “I’m willing to be Ajax’s friend.”

“Oh.”

She looked back in time to see him genuinely caught off-guard. He blinked at her, once, twice, a tinge of pink filling his cheeks. It was such a soft look, for someone like him. 

He coughed into his fist and the two of them looked away at anything, at anywhere else but the connection that was becoming palpable between them. 

It was a long time before Childe spoke again. “I’m glad to have you as my comrade, Lumine. I’d trust you over anyone else to fight by my side.”

She could feel that he’d turned back to her, but she could not, would not return that gaze because she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. 

“It’s because I trust you the most that I have a favor to ask.”

Her head swiveled. He had grown more serious now, the tired warrior having returned. 

“What’s the favor?” A part of her knew she should dismiss it immediately, as she wanted no part in Fatui schemes. 

And yet she knew that she would be yanked around on the strings of the Tsaritsa like a puppet no matter what road she took here. Somehow, no matter what she did, it had a way of playing out well for the Fatui in the endgame. 

And a part of her could not deny Ajax what he wanted, could not betray the fondness and trust exchanged now in the night, in this secret reunion. 

“I need to you to hang onto this for me.” He removed his Vision from his belt. “I can’t explain why, but I can’t have it right now and I need someone to keep it safe.”

He pressed the Vision into her cupped hands. The light of the Vision danced in front of her, like sunlight on the waves of the shoals of Liyue. She stared at it before her eyes moved up to its owner. 

“What are you planning?”

He looked down at the Vision with a sense of longing. “Whatever I can to keep my colleagues from razing this city. I didn’t want things to go that way in Liyue, but my colleagues don’t share the same sense of honor. I’ll do what’s necessary for the Tsaritsa. . . But the Knave’s plan is completely unnecessary.”

“Childe, what is the Knave planning?” That general sense of unease exploded into full-blown panic. If her methods were something that even he disagreed with. . . 

“I know I have no right to ask this.” His fingers lingered under her own, cupped around that Vision. He looked so tired, so resigned to fate, so deflated. Like he had after the Ruin Guard factory. “Please, comrade. Trust me one more time?”

Their eyes met, and all Lumine could see was sincerity. In an instant, she understood him as a fellow traveling warrior, a fellow vagabond who had lost their home a long time ago with their innocence. In him, she saw the rainfall, the attempt to make things right. 

“I will.” She placed the Vision in the pocket of her dress. “I’ll keep it safe.”

He smiled, more out of relief than anything else. “Thank you. I trust you will.”

He then sighed and turned. “I just wish things could have been different.”

“Teucer once told me that you’d have joined me, if I’d asked.” Lumine realized she sounded unbearably sad. “But it’s too late for that, isn’t it?”

He turned back to her, a reflection of her own unacknowledged sorrow. “It always was, comrade.”

Lumine reached for his hand. Before she knew it, she was pulling him in closer, until they were face to face, eye to eye. . . 

That was when he leaned in for the kiss and she didn’t dare push him away. Their embrace was a desperate plea to stay, although Lumine had no idea who was doing the pleading. Maybe it was both of them. 

Their kiss tasted bittersweet, like the fall of rain.

[azgfggf]

Spoilers for One Piece post Marineford/Egghead

Hot take, but Monkey D Dragon is a little bitch.

Bro is the ~*Most dangerous criminal in the world*~ but does literally nothing????? Like what does he do??? He abandoned HIS OWN SON because “The child is a weakness” or some shit. M8 it’s been proven time and time again that fighting for something (especially family) MAKES A BETTER CREW

•Whitebeard

•Strawhats

•LITERAL PIRATE KING

“Oh but he just doesn’t have the time to raise a child!”

Okay dragon

Okay

WHAT IS THIS

WHAT IS IT DRAGON

He says he wants to protect Luffy, but then sends him to live with Garp. Hoe that is NOT protection. “Oh he saved them from Smoker and Buggy” you mean the one Marine that actually cares about justice and the pirate they literally already defeated? So you can save him from Smoker but not your Croco ex-wife???? Bitch the lighting saved Luffy, not you.

SPEAKING OF WHICH *Pretend I smack a whiteboard right here*

MARINEFORD

WHERE WERE YOU

I literally looked it up and all I got was Reddit posts like nobody knows. So now I gotta ask, what is more important than Marineford?? Like especially to dragon.

•Iva is there (Fresh out of Impel Down)

•Kuma is there

•Luffy is there

•Whitebeard is there

•Multiple crews are all united to fight the government and broadcasted worldwide (SOUNDS GOOD FOR A REBELLION HMMM???)

•SON OF PIRATE KING

OH YEAH AND ALSO

•EVERY

•SINGLE

•ADMIRAL

DRAGON THIS WAS YOUR ONE CHANCE TO DO AS MUCH DAMAGE PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE TO THE WORLD GOVERNMENT OUTSIDE OF NUKING MARIEJOA. WHERE WERE YOU????

SPEAKING OF DRAGON NOT DOING SHIT.

WHO IS THIS DRAGON. TELL ME

DO YOU REMEMBER HER YOU SWINE????

He really said “Ooooooohh nah we can’t saveeee her because uhhhh she can handle it or whatever”

YOU

DON’T

KNOW

THAT

Kuma, along with everybody else in this entire fucking organization ACTUALLY DOES.

Dragon is the only child of a Marine Vice Admiral, and compared to literally everyone else in the OP world, is extremely privileged. Bro was educated, always fed, and his father had a well respected and stable job. He doesn’t know jack shit about what Celestial Dragons do on the inside. Unless, of course, he *did* know how bad they were from Garp or smth (MEANING HE REFUSED TO SAVE HER KNOWING WHAT THEY’D DO) or unless he had spies in Mariejoa (IN WHICH CASE WHY DID HE NOT SAVE HER??) OR MAYBE HE COULD USE THE ONE PERSON WHO

• CAN TELEPORT ANYWHERE

• KNOWS THE LAYOUT OF MARIEJOA’S SLAVE SYSTEM

• WANTS TO SAVE HER DESPERATELY

MAN IS TAKING LEAPS AND BOUNDS TO ABANDON THIS WOMAN FOR WHAT PURPOSE? ONE OF HIS FRIEND AND ALLIES (Kuma) HAS LOST SOMEBODY VERY IMPORTANT. I’ve seen people make connections with Luffy and Vivi but that’s a whole different thing bcz Luffy both A) wants to save her and B) knows she’s not with celestial dragons.

Now I hate him, post Kuma backstory I hate him more for what he did to my girl. But I also know that a lot of this stuff is still undetermined. Oda has a knack for making me love character within a very small amount of chapters. I’m open to liking this guy, but everything he’s done so far is annoying me to hell. If Iva trusts him, I trust him for now, but DAYM all this guy does is stare East at the kid he abandoned and his maybe dead probably trans ex-wife.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Official Girl Part 2

AN: Always believe in making the most of your second chance

Synopsis: After Jack made the decision that the two of you should just be friends, he finds himself wishing that he could have that ol thing back

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Requested by: a whole bunch of my beautiful readers! I love yall so much!

Read Part 1 First

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Jack had now been on tour for two months and he was excited to be able to travel the world and perform for his fans.

He admits that he got less excited when the realization hit him that you wouldn't be with him a week before it kicked off.

That had been the original plan.

Until you cheated on him.

Well, technically it wasn't cheating since the two of you weren't officially together.

But, at the time the two of you weren't talking to anyone else so...

Jack considered it cheating.

Jack and his entire team were currently on a flight to Finland and he was passing the time by scrolling on his phone.

On instagram.

But more specifically,

Your Instagram.

He had been wondering what you had been up to since the last time the two of you had talked.

The last time the two of you had talked, he had told you that he only wanted to be friends.

But, the question is....

Is that what he really wanted?

He was interrupted by Urban who had peeked over his shoulder and seen what had him so intrigued.

"You have literally been on her page for close to an hour."

"No I haven't."

"You have. Will you just talk to her? We can all tell how much you miss her."

"Nah, I just...."

"You miss her so stop acting like a dumbass and get your girl back."

"But she cheated on me."

"Ehh, I wouldn't exactly call that cheating."

Jack raised his eyebrows in response to Urban waiting for an explanation.

"You never actually asked her to be your girlfriend and seeing that video might have made her think you didn't want to be with her."

"But..."

"I'm not done. What she did was fucked up and definitely should have asked you first but I mean come on... you can only be so mad at her.”

"But..."

"And another thing. It was your idea for the two of you to be friends and not hers. You sitting up here miserable knowing that you still want her. You haven't even been with anyone else since her."

"She probably doesn't want to talk to me. She probably moved on. She literally hosts parties for other celebrities as her actual day job with people constantly surrounding her."

"I doubt that."

"Besides, I'm good."

"Good with what? The two of you being friends but barely talking? Not even barely now that I think about. Not at all. You haven't said anything to her since that day we saw her in Atlanta. Friends don’t do that."

"I'm just focusing on myself Urb."

"Uh huh focusing on yourself but rereading her text messages over and over and stalking her Instagram page?"

Silence.

"Exactly. Just talk to her."

"But... I can't trust her."

This lead to Urban rolling his eyes.

"Did you forget about the little reputation of you being a playboy? You not so innocent either."

"I just.... what if she does it again?"

"The way that you told me she was pleading for you to take her back, I doubt it."

Neelam couldn't help but to overhear the conversation and she simply rolled her eyes.

She wasn't a fan of you in the slightest since finding out you "cheated". But if we were really being honest, she really didn’t like you before that either. 

She really wouldn’t even say two words to you and you could never put your finger on as to why.

You had heard such good things about her, but the way she acted towards you, made you steer clear.

"You can do better."

This caught both Jack and Urban's attention.

They knew that Neelam didn't care for you.

Urban was all for giving you another chance and Jack well, he just didn't know what to do.

"Nee..."

"No. She was dead wrong for what she did. She could've just asked you but instead what does she do? Go and fuck her ex. My vote is no. Besides for your image do you honestly want to be connected to an Instagram influencer?"

"But, she made me feel different. A good different."

"Don't tell me that you love her." Neelam said as she rolled her eyes.

Jack simply looked down at his phone at one of the last text messages that you sent after he had cut ties with you.

Jack, I can't tell you how sorry I am for doing this to us. You mean everything to me and I do admit I acted out of anger. Just please give us another chance so I can prove to you that you're the only one for me.

As hard as it was for him to do, he left you on read when you had first sent the text.

His biggest concern was if the two of you actually did get into a relationship he needs to be sure that nothing like this will ever happen again.

"But I do."

---

You were currently getting ready for one of your many club appearances and you were actually excited for this one.

It had been a long time since you had gotten excited for your job and embraced the feeling.

You were still somewhat sad about the whole Jack situation, but I mean... as much as you wanted to you couldn't stop living.

And you definitely wanted to when he said that he just wanted for the two of you to be friends.

Your heart shattered that day.

You were... better.

You did leave your apartment for things other than work which took a lot of effort on your part.

However, if you could turn back the hands of time you would.

Then maybe just maybe you would be a whole lot happier right now.

Tonight you were headed to Blue Flame in downtown Atlanta and you would be hosting no one other than Drake himself.

You were a huge fan of him and his team actually reached out to you a few weeks ago for the event.

Of course you said yes.

It was nearing 10 PM when you started to make your way out the door, wearing one of your newest outfits that you bought in order to give yourself a little pick me up, while wearing your famous Hello Kitty necklace that Jack had bought for you and decided to wear your hair down. 

You were honestly surprised that he didn’t ask for it back seeing how you knew this shit was expensive.

He had went to the same person that made his Kentucky chain.

I guess it just serves as a reminder as to what was and what used to be.

You just prayed that tonight would go smoothly.

Liked by jackharlow, druski2funny, champagnepapi, theestallion, quavohuncho, and 473,291 others

yourinstagramname: Blue Flame!! Come party with me and the one and only champagnepapi tonight! See you soon 😉

champagnepapi: we about to shut it down!

urbanandjack24: wait did jackharlow like this!? are they seeing each other again!?!

jackharlowsource: okay Jackman we see you 👀

Drake caught wind of Jack being in Atlanta and invited him out to his event at Blue Flame since he was taking a few days off.

This just so happened to be the event that you had put together and Jack didn't realize it until he saw your post on instagram and he was already on his way to meet him.

You had seen where he liked your post and your heart had definitely skipped several beats.

But, you decided not to get your hopes up since he literally told you that he wanted the two of you to be friends and nothing more.

You were making your way around the club mingling with everyone until you saw him.

Jack.

Your breath immediately hitched and you had to regain your composure before someone noticed your sudden change in demeanor.

You knew for a fact that he hadn't been there 20 minutes ago since that's the time you had left Drake in VIP.

He was now sitting with him and you also caught sight of Urban and the rest of PG.

Your friend Kayla just so happened to come with you and immediately saw that you became flustered.

“You okay?”

“NO!”

“Why?”

“He’s here. In VIP. With Drake!”

“Okay, so this might be his way of telling you he wants to try again.”

“No, he made that very clear that he only wanted for us to be friends.”

“It’s been a few months so you never know.”

“I doubt it. Like you didn't see the way he looked at me when he said it. He was so hurt and the fact that I was the cause behind the hurt… just… he made me so happy and I ruined it."

"But he has to see your side too. You didn't have a title to your relationship."

"True, but I hurt him and I hurt him bad. And then ended up hurting my damn self."

"But didn't he also tell you that there could possibly be hope for the two of you in the future?"

"Hmm yeah.. but like I said. I'm not getting my hopes up. And fuck I have to go back up there."

"I'll go for you."

"Thank you. I just can't do it."

Meanwhile in VIP, Jack was having an entire meltdown ever since he saw you making your way around the club down below.

Drake had told him that you had literally been in VIP with him ten minutes before he had gotten there. 

He was secretly praying that you would make your way back up to VIP, but he had no idea what he would say to you if you did.

He even ordered alcohol which had Urban confused as all hell seeing as he hadn’t drank in a year. 

“Would you stop staring at her?!” Urban basically yelled at him. 

“I’m staring?”

“Yes, again. For the eighth time. Go and talk to her.”

“Nah, she doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“I wish you would stop being a dumbass about the whole thing. She has to know you’re here by now.”

“Well I’ll be here for a few days so maybe later.”

All Urban did was roll his eyes.

“You just like being miserable, huh?”

“Well, no... just.... what if she doesn’t even want to be friends anymore?”

“You are literally raising your blood pressure up for no reason. SHE WANTS YOU BACK.”

“I’m going to need another drink if I’m going to get through this.” Jack said while staring down at you talking to one of your friends down below. His eyes hadn’t left you all night.

“And you don’t even drink anymore, so therefore I know it’s bad.”

“She makes me nervous, man.”

“I can’t wait until you grow some balls and go talk to her, I’m about to go get her.” Urban was trying to get up but Jack immediately pulled him back.

“NO! I’ll do it.”

“I don’t believe you and you’re about to be staring at her all night.”

“Just.. I will....”

“SHE’S LEAVING! GO GET HER!” Urban exclaimed as he saw you making your way towards the exit.

“I need another drink.”

“SERIOUSLY?”

---

You had taken a shower and gotten settled and was now laying down considering it was almost two in the morning.

You number one mission had been to avoid Jack and you had been successful... or so you thought. 

There was a knock on the door leaving you confused on who it could be.

You figured it might be Kayla since she did come over from time to time after you two would be finished and event so you went to open the door startled to see that Jack was on the other side of it.

Your breath immediately hitched in your throat as you took in his appearance.

He looked so good and you were not expecting for him to come and see you.

I mean yall hadn’t talked for months and you figured that he didn’t want to be bothered with you anymore despite him saying that the two of you could be friends. 

Friends didn’t ignore each other and the last thing you wanted was to be rejected so you didn’t bother to reach out to him first. 

“Uhh, hey...”

You were immediately cut off when he reached down to kiss you taken you aback and surprising you. 

“What...Umm.. okay that was... unexpected.”

“I just... I miss you okay and I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“But you said...”

“I know what I said but I’ve been fucking miserable since I told you that I just wanted for us to be friends. And seeing you tonight in person....”

“So you still want to be with me even after I treated you like shit?”

“I should have made you my girlfriend a long time ago and that wouldn’t have ever happened.”

You moved to the side so that he could come into your condo and you both sat in the living room next to each other as you were taking this all in.

This has to be a dream of some sort because you couldn’t believe he was here in front of you.

He simply took your hand in his and you missed this feeling of the two of your hands being together.

“So, what do you say?”

Your eyes started to water because you honestly didn’t think deep down that you deserved a second chance.

“But, I hurt you and I shouldn’t...”

“I’m willing to start over if you are. Like a clean slate and I promise to never bring it up again.”

“Jack... but it’s still going to hang over my head. Like you are the only want I wanted and when I saw the video, I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I just wish you would’ve came to me because I would have told you everything, but I’m at fault too because I should have flat out made my intentions clear. I mean even though I bought you things and spent time with you, that isn’t the same as flat out telling you.”

“Very true.”

“I’ve fucking missed you so please give me an answer and if you don’t want...”

“Hold up Jackman, I never said I didn’t want you or didn’t want this. I just...”

“Just let me love you the way I know you deserve to be loved.” Jack pleaded with you as he slid you onto his lap.

“And from now on, you come to me when you need an explanation about something, not anyone else. Understood?”

“Yes, I get it.”

“Soooo...”

“Soooo.....”

“You want to pack your bags so you can come with me on tour when I leave again in a few days and stay with me until then?”

“Yes, I’d love too.” You replied while kissing him and then Jack proceeded to place kisses all over your face making you laugh.

“I missed you so much.” He confessed as he pinched your cheek.

“I missed you too. And you can tell Urban I owe him 200 dollars.”

“Wait, for what?”

“We made a bet saying how you would take me back and he was right so I’ll run him his money. He said you were miserable and knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away from me for too long but I didn’t believe him. He actually told Drake to set this whole thing up apparently and he was expecting for you to talk to me when you saw me tonight.”

“Urb be getting on my fuckin nerves because he’s always right all the damn time.”

“Come on and help me pack and you can worry about killing him later.” You replied while kissing him once more. 

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