#me? a celebrity? it's more likely than you think..

[topguncortez]

matt rempe with angst prompt “they’re lying to you” maybe she’s hughes sister and the boys don’t like her with a ranger player

Loving the Enemy - Matt Rempe

hockey masterlist || g's graduation celebration

synopsis: What was supposed to be an amazing night supporting her boyfriend's first NHL game, turns into a fight amongst siblings which leads to a broken heart. or in which Y/N Hughes is in love with the enemy.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: hockey inaccuracies, language, fighting, mentions of smut, break ups, angst

Being a Hughes sibling wasn’t easy. Being the only girl Hughes sibling was even harder. It wasn’t necessarily that you were a surprise, but your parents didn’t think that they would have a little girl after having three boys in a row. But you were their prized possession, and they would never say it out loud, but you were the favorite child. 

You were close with all your brothers, being the youngest, they had been absolutely enthralled with you when you were born. Quinn had always been more than delighted to be an older sibling, and having a little sister was like getting ice cream before dinner. Jack was a bit indifferent towards you until you were about thirteen and he had accidentally body checked you during a scrimmage. He instantly expected tears, like had happened anytime he accidentally (or purposely) bodychecked you, but instead, you hopped back up and delivered a high stick to him about five minutes later. 

But out of the three Hughes brothers, it was Luke, who you were the closest with. Only 18 months apart, some people believed that you two were twins. Not only did you both get the curly hair, but you both got the height gene that somehow missed Quinn and Jack. The two of you were also the quiet ones of the family, choosing to stick together and out of the spotlight. Luke was the first one you told that you didn’t like hockey, and you were the first one who Luke told he wasn’t going to go to the draft right away. But it wasn’t just the verbal communication that you two had, it was the silent glances and head nods that were understood from across the room. 

And it was because of that bond, that Luke knew there was something you were hiding. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something off about you. He could hear you late at night talking and giggling with someone over the phone. You had been coming home late at night, using some excuse that you had been out with a friend or studying at a cafe. He even noticed that you were wearing a shirt he had never known you owned the other day. And right now, he knew that you were hiding away in your bedroom, which was uncharacteristically off for you. Usually you loved sitting on the beanbag, making fun of him, Jack, and Nico for playing NHL. 

“Why is he here?” You whispered, peeking through the crack in your door, which gave you the perfect view of the living room, “I thought they were going to his place. Why are they here!?” 

A low chuckle sounded out from behind you, making you turn your head towards the tall, muscular, still half naked man on your bed, “And this is funny to you? You realize if they see you here, you’re dead.” 

“You don’t think I can’t fight them? Jack is what. . . five nine?”

You rolled your eyes, closing your door softly and walking back to your bed, flopping down next to him, “Five eleven and he’ll get out the measuring tape if you even doubt it.” 

He instantly pulled your body into his, making you rest your hand on his peck, “So, you’re telling me you’ve never had a boy in your room before?” A shit eating grin arose on his cheeks, making heat flood yours, “Are you saying that I took your precious-” 

“Oh shut up, Rempe,” You shook your head with a giggle, “It’s not cause you’re a boy, it’s because you’re a fucking Ranger.” 

It wasn’t like you meant for it to happen. 

You were sworn enemies. Well, supposed to be sworn enemies. The rivalry between the New Jersey Devils and the New York Rangers went farther back than you had been alive. The “cross river rivals”, just 10 miles away from each other. Though you hadn’t been a Devils fan until your brother Jack got drafted in 2019, and even then, you still kept somewhat mutual in your cheering for them. But when Luke got drafted three years later, you had sworn your allegiance to the team (even though you swore you would still put on a blue Canucks jersey to support Quinn. . . and even he knew that would only happen when the Canucks weren’t playing the Devils). 

You met Matt by accident. You had been leaving a coffee shop late after working on a research paper. Jack and Luke had told you over and over again to never go out walking in Jersey City alone at night by yourself. But you had never feared being out by yourself. There were plenty of times at UMich where you would leave the library by yourself and walk across campus to your dorm alone. Never had you felt terrified or in danger. But for some reason that night, you felt a shadow looming over your shoulder. 

You had just gathered your things, ready to step out the door and head for the subway, when a voice in your head told you not to go. Your eyes had darted around the shop, looking for someone who you could sit with or strike up a conversation long enough for you to text one of your brothers to come get you. The shop was basically vacant, and the barista behind the counter looked like she was waiting for you to leave so she could lock up. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your backpack, placing your keys in between your fingers just in case. You had barely opened the door when someone placed their hand on your elbow. 

“Daphne? Oh my god, I thought it was you! How the hell have you been?” The man said to you. You could see it in his eyes he was begging for you to go along with it and there was something about him, that you knew you could trust him. 

“Kyle! Holy shit, where have you been!? It’s been what. . . four years?!” You said, overly excited. The barista from behind the counter cleared her throat, her eyes fleeting towards the clock behind her, “I was just about to hit up another spot, do you want to come with?” 

“I would love to, we have some catching up to do.” 

You felt a sigh of relief as you walked out of the coffee shop, the looming darkness fading away the further away you got, “Thank you for. . . that,” You muttered to him. 

“No problem,” He said back, “I’m Matt, by the way.” 

“Y/N,” You looked up at him, “I uh. . . I think I’m going to call an uber now or-” 

“I can take you. . . home. . .” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, “God, I just saved you from one creep now you probably think I’m a fucking creep but I promise I just want to make sure you get home safe and I-” 

“It’s okay,” You giggled, cutting off his rambling, “I would like a ride home, if that’s not too much of a struggle. I trust you. . . even if I just met you.” 

You thought he was good looking before, but the smile that arose on his face amplified that by a thousand. His brown eyes were soft as he held his large calloused and slightly bruised hand out towards you, which you took without second thought. The two of you walked down the street towards a black BMW. You slid your backpack off your shoulder, and he gently took it from your hand, opening the door with his other. He jogged around the back of the car after tossing your backpack in the backseat. 

“Sorry if it smells like a gym in here, I usually hit up Blair’s after practice,” He explained, though there was no smell at all, probably due to the air fresheners he had hanging around his rearview mirror. 

“Smells like winter apple,” You said, reading the label, “What sport do you play?” 

Matt placed his hand on the back of your seat as he backed out of the parking space, and you hated how attractive that was, “Hockey.” A cough spluttered out of your lips as you choked on your own spit at his revelation, “What? Not a hockey fan?” He asked with a nervous chuckle. 

“Who do you play for?” You asked, ignoring his question. 

“Hartford Wolf Pack, but I got signed with the Ranges-” 

“Oh god,” You groaned, holding your face in your hands, “Of course, I was standing in Rangers’ territory.” 

Matt’s brown eyes glanced over at you before looking back at the road in front of him, “Well, I’m sorry,” He shifted in his seat, “Are you like an Islanders fan or something?” 

“Even worse,” You mumbled, “My hot knight in shining armor, turns out to be a Ranger, just my luck.” You sighed, “My brothers play for the Devils.” 

“Wait,” Matt stepped on the brakes, “Brothers? Plural? Are you related to the Hugheses?” 

“Those would be the ones.” 

Matt shook his head, a laugh falling from his lips, “Wow, really fucked up here didn’t we?” You couldn’t help but smile, “Well, Miss Hughes,” Matt said as he pulled up in front of the high rise apartment building, “Is it crossing enemy lines if I ask for your number?” 

You bit your bottom lip, trying to hide the blush arising on your cheeks, “It is. . . but I’ve never been one to swear allegiance to just one place.” 

That night was six months ago, but for you it felt like it was just yesterday. There was a certain thrill about sneaking around with Matt, meeting when your brothers were gone or his roommates were out. You hated the rap he had developed in the AHL. He wasn’t the bad boy goonish hockey player with the fiery temper. He was a sweet, gentle giant, who loved to be the little spoon and have his hair played with. He sent you flowers and money to go get food cause he knew you forget to eat when you are in intense study sessions. Matt had become your everything in such a short amount of time, that you hated keeping him and your relationship from your family. 

It wasn’t that you wanted to keep your relationship a secret on purpose, but you both decided it was going to be the best for both sides. Matt was starting his second season with Hartford and then moving up to play for the Rangers in the Stadium Series. For you, Luke was starting his rookie season, and you were doing everything you can to remain lowkey and out of trouble for his sake. Mentioning that you not only had a boyfriend, but that said boyfriend was Matt Rempe. . . the whole house would be flipped on its side. 

“I have something to tell you,” Matt muttered, grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. You loved the way that one of Matt’s hands could encase both of yours. You looked up into his soft brown eyes, that you swear resembled those of a baby cow, “The Rangers called. . . they want me to play in the Stadium Series.” 

You gasped in shock, climbing on top of Matt’s lap and grabbing his face in your hands, “They want you to play!? Matt! This is amazing!” 

A smile crawled across his lips, “Thank you,” You watched as a shadow of doubt and unease filled his eyes, “I want you there.” 

“I’ll be there,” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I’ll be the loudest one there.” 

“Oh you better,” Matt said, one of his hands gliding up to rest on your ass, the other one tangling in your hair, “You know I love you, right.” 

“I love you too,” You smiled. Those three words would never fail to put a smile on your face. 

“Good,” Matt smirked, “Cause right now, I need you to be very, very quiet.” 

— — — 

You didn’t really think it through when you told Matt that you would be there for the Stadium Series game. Not only did you have to sneak past your brothers to take the train to MetLife, you had to also sneak past your parents. Being the youngest of three boys, your parents had perfected the craft of knowing when one of their kids was hiding something. 

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Luke asked, standing in the doorway of your room. 

“Positive,” You did your best trying to pretend you were sick, “My body just aches and my head hurts. I think I’m getting sick.” You hated lying to your brother. You hated lying to any of your brothers, but especially Luke. 

Luke frowned, “I hate that you’re missing this dinner.” Nico had decided to host a dinner for all the parents, friends and family that came into town to watch them play in yesterday’s stadium game. You also hated that you were missing spending time with your family, but it's Matt’s first game. You weren’t going to miss that for the world. 

“Can you bring me back some fries?” You asked meekly. 

“Of course, ducky,” Luke nodded, using the childhood nickname he gave you, “Text me if you need anything.” 

You waited until the front door closed, before climbing out of bed and getting dressed. You threw on a pair of black jeans and a white Rangers sweatshirt. You finished the outfit with a hat and your coat, hoping to conceal your identity amongst the crowd. The train ride to MetLife was short, and you followed the crowd into the stadium. Matt had done good with getting you a ticket, sitting you a few rows behind the Rangers bench. You had gotten there in time to see them warming up, Matt’s large frame skating around the ice with ease. 

It was as if he could sense that you were there, his brown eyes searching the stands until he found you. He sent you a small wave, which made your heart flutter as you returned the gesture. He looked extremely good in his white Rangers jersey and the eye black on his cheeks. You knew how important this game was to him, not only was it his first game, but it also fell on the anniversary of his dad’s death. You knew that all he wanted in the world was for his dad to see him play the sport they both loved. 

Within minutes of the puck dropping, the Rangers took control. You felt the familiar anxiety that you would get when watching your brothers take the ice, when Matt got off the bench. You clenched your fists tightly as the Rangers moved down the ice, skating flawlessly and making a goal. You stood up and cheered with the crowd as the goal horn went off, high fiving strangers and screaming in joy.

However the giddy feeling quickly went away, as you looked back towards the center, and saw your boyfriend in a fist fight. You knew he was a fighter at Hartford, and it wasn’t your favorite thing about his hockey game. He was a gifted player, with the height and reach other players would die for. You hated that the Wolfpack had set him up to be a goon within his first season there. 

You watched with bated breath as the refs let him and the Islanders player battle it out. Punches delivered from both players, until they finally came to a draw. You shook your head as Matt raised his arms, trying to get the crowd fired up as he skated towards the penalty box. His first NHL game and his first five minute penalty for fighting. 

As Matt sat down, taking the bag of ice from his trainer, he turned to scan the crowd, looking for you. He easily spotted you, standing out amongst the crowd as you gave him a look. 

“You okay?” You mouthed and Matt nodded, holding up his bruised hand. You playfully rolled your eyes, “Pay attention,” and pointed back to the game. Matt smirked, giving you a mock salute before turning back towards his team on the ice. 

When the game ended, in a Rangers victory, you left quickly. You wanted to stay and see Matt and hug him, but you knew that you would be cutting it close to when your brothers and parents would be back. You settled for sending him a text, and telling him you would come over as soon as you could to help celebrate with him. 

The apartment was dark when you arrived back, your siblings still out at the dinner with the team. You let out a sigh of relief, dashing back to your room and changing back into your pajamas. By the time you had settled down and turned on some cheesy romcom, the front door opened and the familiar sounds of your brothers and parents filtered into the apartment. 

“Ducky!” Luke shouted. 

“She’s probably sleeping, asshole,” Jack scolded him. 

“Don’t call your brother an asshole,” Your mom chided. 

“Ducky!” Luke called again, “I got you fries!” 

You giggled, pushing the covers back and going to greet your family. Their smiles were big and comforting as you sat down at the island, opening the to-go container of fries. Jack filled you in on everything you missed at dinner, your mother sitting behind you and playing with the ends of your hair like she used to do when you were younger. It felt like old times, the only person missing was Quinn. You knew he was doing great things out in Vancouver, but you missed having him around. The facetime calls weren’t enough. 

“So what did you do tonight, duck?” Your dad asked. 

“Oh uh,” You cleared your throat, “Just watched some movies and slept.” 

“You missed an exciting hockey game,” He said, “That Rempe kid is going to be a menace.” 

“Yeah,” You tried to hide the blush arising on your cheeks, “I’m gonna go back and lay down, still not feeling the best.” 

“Okay, sweetheart,” Your mom squeezed your shoulder, “We’ll see you in the morning.” 

You nodded your head, “Yeah, maybe we can go to that bakery on the corner-” 

“What the fuck were you doing at MetLife?” Luke’s cut you off. You looked at him, your heart thundering in your chest. 

“I-I wasn’t at M-MetLife,” You cursed your nervous stutter. 

“Bullshit,” Luke cursed, putting his phone on the counter, and clear as day there was a picture of you, in your white Rangers sweatshirt, sitting behind the bench, “I thought you were sick.” 

Tears began to cloud your eyes as you looked at your parents and then your brothers, “I’m sorry.” 

“Why did you lie, Y/N?” Your mom asked. And suddenly you felt like you were a child all over again, being scolded by your parents. You hated getting in trouble, you hated looking at your parents and seeing disappointment in their eyes. The only time you ever really cried was when you were in trouble. 

“I. . .” You huffed, “I went to watch Matt play in his first NHL game.” 

“Matt?” Luke asked, “. . . Matt fucking Rempe?” You nodded your head. You felt your mom shift behind you, her stance going into protective mode, “Why the fuck would you go watch Matt fucking Rempe play-” 

“Language, Luke,” Your mom spoke. 

“Because we are dating.” 

Silence spread across the kitchen for a moment, before laughter sounded out. A cruel sounding laughter as you looked at Luke. It was the fake sounding, teasing laughter that made you feel like a child. 

“No you’re not,” Luke shook his head, “There’s no way.” 

“Why?” You asked softly, “We’ve been together for six months.” 

“No,” Luke chuckled again, “You aren’t dating him. You are not dating a hockey player, let alone one that has more penalty minutes than time on the ice. You aren’t dating him, you might be fucking him-” 

“Luke!” 

“But you aren’t dating him.” 

You shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks, “He loves me.” 

“Yeah and when did he say that? Before or after you fucked-” 

“Enough!” Your mom stood up, her hands on the counter, “Y/N, you shouldn’t have lied to us about going to the game. If you wanted to go to support Matt, that’s all you needed to say,” You nodded, looking down at the counter, “Luke, you do not get to say those things about your sister and her relationship. You do not get to say those things about any woman for that matter. Now, apologize.” 

You looked up at your brother, expecting to see remorse in his eyes, but all you saw was anger. Luke looked at you, before grabbing his phone and going to his room. You closed your eyes, feeling regret and guilt rising in your body. You mom put her hand on your shoulder, as a small sob left your lips. 

— — — 

It had been two weeks since your fight with Luke. Your parents had flown back to Michigan, leaving Jack to play the mediator between the two of you. Your mom had not so secretly texted Quinn to tell him what happened. He had called you the night after they left, which led to another tearful confession about your relationship with Matt. Quinn, being the big brother that he is, said he was upset that you felt like you couldn’t tell him about your relationship, but was nonetheless happy for you as long as you were happy. 

But you weren’t sure if you were happy. Luke had refused to talk to you, or even be near you. If you entered the same room he was in, he would leave. He wouldn’t fix you a plate of food like he usually did, or tell you when he was leaving for the arena for a home game. He wouldn’t even respond in the groupchat when you would ask him a question directly. 

But your strained relationship with Luke wasn’t the only relationship on the rocks. You hadn’t talked to Matt since the night of the stadium series. He had sent you countless text messages and left voicemails. He even went as far as sending flowers daily to the apartment, which Luke would toss out if you weren’t quick enough to grab them.

You were laying in your bed, half watching an episode of Bridgerton, like you had been for the past two weeks. Normally, you would be out in the living room with your brothers, but your bedroom felt like the only safe space in the entire apartment. You could hear the occasional shout or jest from your brothers as they were playing some video game on their night off. Beside you, on your bedside table, your phone buzzed for probably the tenth time this evening, another missed call from the same person. 

You weren’t sure what you were doing. You knew it was hurtful to string Matt along like this, but you also didn’t have the heart to break up with him. These past two weeks had felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest, and to even think about living a life without him in it hurt too much. 

You let out a slow breath as you closed your eyes, listening as the buzzing of your phone finally stopped. However, the loud sound of knocking pulled you from your moment of peace. 

“Did you order something?” Jack’s muffled voice sounded out. 

“No,” Luke said back. There was shuffling as the front door opened and the knocking ceased, “Oh you’re fucking kidding me. Why the hell are you here?” 

“Where’s Y/N?” Your heart sped up at the sound of the all too familiar voice. You quickly jumped up from your bed, opening your door and running to the living room. There in all his tall glory, stood the man you loved, “Y/N.” 

It felt like the air had been drawn back into your lungs as you looked at him, “Matt.” 

“I uh. . .I just needed to see that you were okay. You haven’t been answering my calls or my texts,” Matt scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, looking at you and then your two brothers, “I’m gonna go now.” 

“Wait,” You said, taking a step forward, “Can I talk to you?” Matt nodded his head, looking like a lost puppy dog. You looked at your two brothers, “Can I talk to him alone?” 

“Yeah, c’mon Moose, we got game film to look at,” Jack said. Luke looked Matt up and down once, before letting him into the apartment and following his older brother down the hall towards the office room. 

You silently walked over to the couch, Matt following behind you. The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, before you broke the ice. 

“Do you love me?” 

Matt’s head snapped towards you, as your eyes looked straight ahead at the tv, “What?” 

“Do you love me?” You looked over at him, “Do you mean it when you say-” 

“Yes,” Matt answered quickly, “Yes, I do love you. I mean it every single time I say it. Why are you asking me this?” 

You shook your head, “Luke said something and I-” 

“He’s lying to you,” Matt moved from the couch to kneel down in front of you. He took your hands in his, “I love you, Y/N Hughes. I know we’ve only been together for six months but it’s been the happiest six months of my life. Not even hockey fills me with the joy as being with you does. So yes, I love you. I love you so fucking much.” 

You sniffled, tears falling from your eyes. Matt quickly wiped his thumb over your cheekbone, “I’m sorry. I. . . It all fell apart so quickly. Luke found out I lied and went to the game, and then he got so mad. I didn’t want to have to choose between-” 

“No, you shouldn’t have to choose,” Matt said, tears brimming his own eyes. He was silent for a moment, warring thoughts in his head as he thought of what to say, “It would absolutely break me to pieces, but I won’t be the reason why you and your siblings don’t talk anymore. I. . . I can’t do that to you.” 

“Are you breaking up with me?” You gasped. 

“I don’t want you and Luke to not talk to each other because of me.” 

“No,” You shook your head, “It will be okay, I promise. He’ll get over it.” 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Matt said, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, “I know your family means everything to you, and I can’t stand to be the one who ruins that. I’m so, so sorry,” Matt leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll always love you. No matter what. You are it for me.” You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his warmth, “Goodbye Y/N.” 

You sat there, unmoving as Matt stood up and walked towards the door. Your eyes fluttered open at the sounds of your brothers' footsteps, moving towards you.

“Are you happy?” You sneered at Luke, “He broke up with me.” 

“Ducky-” Luke sighed. 

“No,” You stood up shaking your head, “The love of my life just walked out the door because he knows that I care too much about you and your opinion. So Luke, are you happy?”

#matt rempe #matt rempe fan fiction #matt rempe fan fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe fic #ny rangers #hockey imagine #hockey fan fic #hockey fic

[tsimvkas]

find comfort in you — trent a.

A/N: it took me a week to be able to write this so im sorry to be posting it on a happy sunday lmao 😵‍💫 a proper trent fic is coming soon please be patient with meee

In the six months you’ve been together, you’ve seen Trent crying once: when Klopp announced his decision.

Since then, you’ve been dreading this day. The final game, when Trent would have to say goodbye to one of the most important men of his life.

When all the celebrations ended and the player’s family entered the pitch, you sat and waited. Trent is very reserved, and you’re even more reserved than him.

Since day one, the agreement was not dragging attention to the relationship, which means you hadn’t been officialised to the rest of the world yet.

It was never a problem to you, not wanting to have people stalking you around or commenting weird things on your socials. But in moments like these you wish Trent were a normal guy.

You wish you could just go there and share the moment with him and his family, supporting him and telling him how proud you were. How strong he was.

But your choices needed some sacrifices, so you kept watching the lap of honour as a normal fan, smiling to the view of your boyfriend holding Aura, so happy and comfortable in her uncle’s arms.

Having seeing him crying earlier during Klopp’s speech had broken your heart, but you knew it was coming. Even though the rest of the world doesn’t know how much, Trent is a sensitive guy, and the end of this era — the only era he has known in his professional career — really affected him.

You agreed to meet them in the parking lot, so when Marcel waved for you it was your signal to leave.

Patiently waiting next to Trent’s car, you instantly noticed how his mood had changed since the last time you checked on him on the pitch.

When no one’s watching, is when your boy shows how he’s actually feeling.

“Are you coming home with me?” was the first thing he said, but instead of teasing and saying something like ‘good night to you too’, you chose to cup his face and stroke his cheeks.

“I think your mum was thinking about staying with you, she was telling me about what she’ll cook” you told him softly, your heart hammering in your chest when he leaned on your touch.

“I asked her not to. Just for tonight, I need to be alone” Trent squeezed your waist, sighing. You nodded, since you imagined that he’d want some space after the draining day.

“That’s ok babe” you stroked his chin. “Can you drop me home?”

“No” he shook his head and opened his eyes, his pleading eyes immediately finding yours. “I need to be alone with you. Can you come?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course” you felt your heart tightening with worry. “What do you want for dinner? We can have a takeaway”

“I don’t feel like eating” he mumbled, playing with the hem of your Liverpool shirt. “I just wanna cuddle and sleep”

It was your turn to sigh, but you kept stroking his cheek to give him some comfort. “Trent…”

“You can make me breakfast tomorrow” he shrugged, and you knew the subject was over for him.

“Do you want me to drive?” you asked him, ignoring the dinner topic for a while. When he nodded, you pecked his lips and walked to the driver’s side.

You drove quietly, scratching Trent’s scalp at every traffic light and smiling at his little pout.

It didn’t take long to get on his porch, and soon you were turning off the engine. Trent jumped out of the car and ran to open your door for you, making you smile.

Holding hands, you entered his house with him and Trent sighed at the warmth of his safe space.

Once you were in his room, you let go of his hand to open his wardrobe.

“You can shower first” you told him, wanting your boyfriend to have a relaxing time whilst you got to tidy his room. You love Trent, but on a daily basis he’s a messy guy and there’s nothing you can do about it.

He nodded without enthusiasm, accepting the towel you grabbed for him and walking to the bathroom.

Knowing Trent you knew it was going to be a long shower, so you got to work. Changing the bed sheets, putting his clothes in the laundry, opening the bedroom’s window and preparing a snack for him, soon you were back in his room.

Placing the sandwich and the cup of tea on his side table, and looked for the pyjama you’re always leaving there for moments like these.

When he got out, Trent frowned at the plate on the table, but you didn’t give him time to complain, quickly kissing his cheek and entering the bathroom.

Coming back to his bedroom, you were welcomed with the sight of Trent still sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for you. His tired and puffy eyes looked back at you when you got closer and leaned to peck his lips, happy to see that the plate you brought him was empty.

“Ready to knock out?” you murmured, scratching his scalp. Instead of answering, he grabbed the hoodie next to him and handed it to you.

“It’s cold tonight and we know I’ll steal the blanket” he murmured, giving you a shy smile

Giggling, you wore the hoodie before climbing in bed. Cold or not, Trent’s bedroom was acclimated and he could easily make the room warm, but you know how much he liked seeing you in his clothes and after a day like the one he had you think you boy deserves the little happinesses.

When your boyfriend crawled behind you, you let him lay in bed before laying on top of him and tucking your head into his neck, sighing when his hand started to stroke your lower back gently.

In the past six months you quickly found out that cuddling with Trent was one of the best parts of your relationship. His strong arms made you feel safe and it never took you long to sleep with the comforting warmth that irradiates from him.

“Thank you for staying with me tonight” he murmured, and you instantly pulled back to look at him.

“Always. Are you ok, though?” you gently stroked his cheek, brushing away a few tears that you know he tried to hold, without success.

“I’m gonna be” he murmured, kissing your nose. “We’re all gonna be alright. But I was thinking…”

“Mm?” you gently poked his nose, waiting for him to talk.

“You should come live with me” he said casually, biting a smile. “If I’m not seeing Klopp everyday I think I should be able to see you everyday”

“You’re comparing me to Klopp?” you raised an eyebrow.

Trent smiled softly and shrugged, and it was crazy how you could make him feel better even after the intense and emotional day he had.

“I mean, both are family”

You rolled your eyes with a pretending disbelief.

“I’m surprised you never tried to move in with him, Trent”

“I did” he mumbled, making you laugh loudly. “Ulla said no”

“I’m Klopp’s replacement then” you mocked, playfully biting his jaw.

Your boyfriend shook his head, now looking at you seriously. “You’re not a replacement. I just think the time is right but I understand if you think it’s too soon”

“I know baby” you kissed his cheek, smiling he caresses your back beneath the hoodie and your shirt. “I’ll move in with you if you learn how to clean your room”

Trent eagerly nodded, hugging your waist tighter and pecking your lips.

“Deal. I’ll clean it everyday after training”

“We know you can’t clean it everyday, not even if your life depended on it, Trent” you chuckled, resting your head on his shoulder.

“But you’ll move anyways” he brushed his nose on your hair. Trent always says how much he loves the smell of your hair products, and you think it’s cute how he pays attention to that, even complaining when you use a different one.

“I will” you kissed his neck. “I’d do anything to be closer to you”

Tangling your legs together, your boyfriend yawned before readjusting your body on top of his so you could both be more comfortable.

“I wish Klopp felt the same” Trent jokingly sighed, making you both laugh.

You know he’ll cry when you’re asleep. You know there’s a maximum amount of comfort you can offer.

But you also know that Trent will feel better if he can cry holding you; for him, your presence is already enough. You know he’ll wake up with puffy eyes and a tired expression, but he’ll get up and look for you in the kitchen.

He’ll give you a softly smile and hug you, giving your face little kisses until you start to giggle and push him away. He’ll sit and wait for you to finish coffee, and then bring you to sit on his lap.

Trent knows that tonight something was taken away from him, and that the future is uncertain, but he has you. And you, he’s sure, are his only certainty.

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander x you #trent alexander x reader #trent alexander fanfic #trent alexander imagines

[strwberri-milk]

Hello!! I love your writing☺️☺️ you’re such an amazing author.

If it’s okay can I request an abyss walker rafayel sneaking into princess reader’s birthday ball to spend time with her. (It is a masquerade!!) I think he’d totally snatch up every dance so none of her time will be occupied by the other noblemen.

thank you!! im still learning l&ds writing so i hope this little influx im doing helps their voices get a little better

You left Rafayel a note on the railing, hoping that he'd see it in time for the ball. You really didn't have any hope that he'd receive the message with how busy he is. He's got a lot of things on his plate and concerning him with your birthday felt like such a trivial task considering the routine hunt and kidnapping of his people.

You were bored beyond comprehension, staring out into the vast ocean of people, praying that something would break the monotony of the evening. Everybody was here to celebrate you and funnily enough nobody seemed to really see you.

And yet, there he was.

Your eyes widen as you realise Rafayel's arrived, kneeling at your feet and brining your hand to press a soft kiss against the knuckles.

"Sorry for the late arrival Princess. I hope you can forgive me," he says in that ever present teasing tone of his.

"I suppose I can forgive you," you respond in kind, following after him as he leads you to the dancefloor.

"Did you pick the theme specifically with me in mind, Your Highness?" he whispers into your ear as he pulls you into his arms, brushing his nose against your cheek.

"N-no!" you deny, knowing that you did ask for a masquerade ball in hopes that Rafayel could join in the festivities easier.

"I'll let you off easy - just for now," he laughs, twirling you easily in a step that's far more elegant than anything you were ever taught.

You're happy to spend your whole night with him, not even noticing the envious stares the two of you get. Of course people want your attention by virtue of your noble blood but some are also envious of the fact you seem to be dancing with an incredibly handsome man.

You don't know when it happened but you find yourself resting your head against his chest. The music has slowed and you have no idea how much time you've spent holding him. To you, nothing matters but the faint feeling of his heart thrumming against the tips of your fingers as he holds you close throughout the evening.

Rafayel eats up all of the attention, knowing that he could never possibly truly stake his claim on you. Having you like this is all he can ever hope for, imagining a world where nothing else mattered but the love the two of you shared. He'll steal you away for as long as he can, pressing your bodies together so intimately that even air would take pause to come between the two of you.

#love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace rafayel x reader #lads rafayel x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader

[pickingupmymercedes]

I'd like to believe - Lewis Hamilton

Alternative sequel to Maybe in another life / When I get to meet you

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: mentions of mourning, angst, will make you emotional

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Alternative-ish ending (this was actually my first draft to continue their story, so the happy-ish one is the alternative, sort of).

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

MILD TRIGGERING CONTENT UNDER, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

______________________________________________________________

My dearest little one,

Today marks ten years since you should have been here, celebrating another year of life. Ten times the snow has fallen, making everything quiet outside.

They say time heals all cuts, but some cuts go real deep, leaving scars that never quite go away. And I still find it hard to believe that a whole decade has passed.

You'd be so grown now, so full of life and curiosity, brimming with questions and dreams. I often wonder what you'd be like – would you have my stubbornness and determination, or your mother's grace and patience?

Maybe a beautiful blend of both, creating someone truly unique.

I’m going to visit your stone again later today. Leave this letter like every year. I suspect there’ll be fresh flowers, as always, probably from your mother.

She never forgets.

We never reconnected, not like I'd hoped for. But I think about her often.

I searched everywhere for her. I just really needed someone to share the pain with, someone to hold onto while everything fell apart. We tried talking, spilling out all our feelings, but the words wouldn't come out right. Maybe we were afraid of saying the wrong thing or making things worse.

Maybe we were both thinking the same thing – maybe if we'd done things differently, maybe you'd still be here.

After a while, the space between us just kept getting bigger, too big to cross. You see, your mom, she found a way to move on. She built a life for herself, a life where the pain was still there, but it didn't control her anymore.

I hope she's found peace and happiness, something she deserved more than anyone. She was an incredible woman, and I wish I had been the man she needed me to be.

I hope she reads these letters someday, that she understands how much I loved you both, how much I regret not being there when you needed me most.

Maybe one day, when the weight of these years starts to feel a little lighter, I can finally forgive myself.

Maybe then, I can find the strength to reach out to her, not to get back together, but to find some peace, a simple way to say thank you for the love we shared and sorry for the loss that tore us apart.

You know, life has changed quite a bit since I last wrote to you.

I'm with someone, have been for the past four years. She's patient, kind and knows about you. I don't think we'll ever have children though. She's got her own ghosts.

I retired from racing. Shortly after I won my eighth championship with Ferrari. It was a dream come true, but also bittersweet because I couldn't share it with you. I work as a consultant for the team now, just like Niki was for me at Mercedes. You’d have loved him.

It's a different kind of thrill, guiding the next generation of racers, helping them navigate the same challenges I once faced, but it drives me forward.

I’d like to believe you’d be proud of your old man for that.

I sometime wonder if you would have been drawn to racing too, or maybe you'd have found your passion in something entirely different. Whatever it might have been, I would have supported you every step of the way and with all my heart.

I think about the things you'd enjoy often; you know?! The hobbies and interests you'd develop.

Maybe you'd love music, like your mother. She had an incredible ear for it, always humming a tune or singing softly to herself. It’s what got us close in the first place so many years ago.

Perhaps you'd have a knack for building things, creating something out of nothing with your hands and imagination.

Either way, I hope you'd have found joy in the simple things, just like I try and do now.

There's so much I wish I could’ve shared with you. So many lessons I've learned the hard way and would to show you. Life isn't always easy, my little one. It's filled with ups and downs, triumphs and failures.

One of the most important things I wish I could’ve taught you is the value of love. Real love, the kind that fills your heart and soul, and is worth every bit of pain and sacrifice.

I had that with your mother, even if I didn't realize it at the time. She saw right through me, saw the man behind the driver, and loved me for who I was. I'd hope you'd find someone like that, someone who understands and loves you unconditionally.

It might hurt sometimes, but that's how you know it's real. Love isn't always easy, but it's the most beautiful thing.

I would want you to know that it's okay to make mistakes though. I made plenty, and each one taught me something valuable. The key is to learn from them, to grow and become a better person. But each moment, whether good or bad, shapes who you are.

I wish I could have been there to guide you through it all, to help you navigate the challenges and celebrate the victories. My motto has been “Still I Rise” for the longest time and if you wanted it could’ve been yours as well.

Life isn't about being perfect; it's about being true to yourself and striving to be the best version of you.

In the quieter moments I still dream about you, you know. In my dreams, you're a whirlwind of energy, your laughter filling the air. We go on adventures, explore the world together. I teach you what I know, and you teach me about everything else.

Those dreams are my sanctuary, a place where we can be together, even if just for a moment.

Sometimes, I catch myself talking to you out loud, as if you were right beside me. I tell you about my day, about the races, about the world. It might sound silly, but it brings me comfort. It's my way of keeping you close, of making sure you're never forgotten.

Even though we never got to meet, you are a part of me, and I carry you in my heart every day.

You are my greatest loss, but also my greatest gift. You've taught me more about love than anything else in this world.

Sometimes, under a sky full of stars, I imagine you up there with the constellations, looking down at me with curious eyes. And I need you to know that we love you still, deeply and unconditionally.

Ten years old. A whole person with your own personality, dreams, and wishes.

The world missed out on knowing you, and so did I.

But your memory, my precious child, it lives on. It lives on in the way I cherish every moment, every sunrise, every laugh shared with a friend. It lives on in the way I try to be a better person, kinder, someone who would have been a good dad to you.

This letter is my vow written down. A promise that even though you're not here, you'll never be forgotten.

Happy birthday, my sweet child. I hope, wherever you are, you're smiling, knowing that you are loved and cherished.

You are my light, my angel and a part of me. And though the path I walk may be lonely sometimes, I carry you and your mom with me in my heart, always.

With all the love that would have filled a lifetime.

Dad.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XIV)

Chapter 14: Heartbreak

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

Alright, buckle up! We’re up for a wild ride! We are reaching the heights of the angsty mess, from this chapter all the way to chapter 17. Is our girl going to be an asshole? Yes, I’m afraid she’s about to fuck up big time...

Apologies for all the damage that is about to be made in this chapter.

It’s also the first chapter I wrote for this fic! It all started with this mess…

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 3450

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It was 11pm, which was early for a night owl such as Andrew, but late for his friends. Neither Sam nor Daphne were nocturnal creatures, and so Andrew answered his phone in a hurry when Sam’s name appeared on the screen. Something had to be wrong. He suddenly wondered where he had put his car keys, in case he needed to leave in a hurry.

“Hello? Andy? It’s me. It’s Sam.”

“Yeah, I know, are you alright?” he asked with worry making his voice deeper than usual, pausing the tv-show he was watching, lounging on his comfortable sofa.

“Yeah, yeah…”

“It’s 11pm, is there something wrong? Is Daphne okay?”

“What? Oh, no! Don’t worry, we’re both fine!”

Andrew heaved a relieved sigh.

“God, don’t scare the shit out of me like that ever again…”

“Did I wake you? I thought you never went to sleep before dawn.”

“Vampires tend to do that indeed.”

“Whose blood did you drink this week?”

Andrew wanted to answer, but he heard Daphne pestering Sam about not having much time, and he merely frowned instead.

“Right… sorry, darling…” Sam mumbled through the phone. “Are you alone, Andy?”

“Erm… yes…?”

“Okay, erm… it’s… it’s about Y/N.”

Andrew sat straighter this time.

“Y/N? Is she okay? Did something happen?”

“No, no… I mean… she’s fine, but…”

“For fuck’s sake, Sam! Spit it out! What’s going on?”

“Look I… I know that you said that I couldn’t tell Daphne about you and Y/N… but Y/N told her, so we’ve talked about you two together…”

Andrew rolled his eyes, lying back down, resting his head on the armrest of the couch.

“It’s alright, Sam… I knew you’d break it to her sooner or later anyway.”

“No, Andy… look… have you talked to Y/N lately?”

Andrew frowned.

“Erm… I don’t know… about… three days ago. Why?”

“I think you should talk to her.”

“Why? Sam, what is it?”

There was a short silence, while the couple exchanged a glance, no doubt.

“Daphne thinks she might take a terrible decision,” Sam answered.

“What kind of decision? What are you talking about?”

Andrew was growing annoyed at this game of riddles. If something was wrong, he ought to know what it was…

But even if he insisted some more, Sam refused to speak.

“Just… call her, and tell her you love her. Tell her to choose you.”

“’Choose’ me? What do you mean?”

“Just… do it tomorrow, will you?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Good… good…”

When he hung up, Andrew stared at the ceiling for a while.

Choose me?

Andrew didn’t need to call you the next day. You were the one to call, and ask him if he was free tonight. You didn’t offer an activity, like you usually would: a movie on Netflix, the cinema, a walk, going to the beach, eating together… There was little ambiguity to the reason behind your demand, and Andrew wasn’t sure whether he was flattered or vexed by it.

He warned you that he wanted to talk to you about something tonight though, and you agreed. You had something to ‘discuss’ with him too. His heart dropped as you spoke those words through the phone. It ought to be some kind of bad news. Or maybe not. Maybe he was reading too much into this, and you meant… to talk about the upcoming wedding, or your job, or… something else entirely. He wondered if you knew that he meant to tell you that he felt more for you than what he had let on.

He parked his car in front of your house, but didn’t climb out just yet. First, he ran through his speech one last time.

I know that you are not looking for a relationship at the moment. But I want more than just sex when it comes to you. To us. Our arrangement can’t go on like this. Again, I understand that you are not in a position now where you want to be in a relationship. And that’s okay. If you tell me that you could give us a chance, I will wait for you. I’ll wait until you’re ready, until your job is more stable and you’ve figured things out in your life. I’ll wait until you want a relationship with me. I have feelings for you, feelings that go beyond a casual fling. And that’s the reason why I’m asking you now to give me a chance. To give us a proper chance…

No l-word yet, you might freak out if he used it. But this speech seemed good enough. Short, to the point. He had written six versions of it this morning.

He took a deep breath, before finally climbing out of his car and walking up to your house.

You were quick to unlock your door and welcome him in. You looked lovely tonight. But then, you were always beautiful…

You went through some meaningless chit-chat while Andrew took off his coat and shoes and followed you down the hall to your kitchen.

You offered him tea without asking if he wanted one. It was late afternoon, but not quite dinner time yet. He could have used some alcohol, but it would have been impolite to ask for some, so he thanked you when you handed him his favourite mug with two teabags plunged in warm water. He leaned against your kitchen counter, his back to your tiny window and your sink while you were facing him, a couple of steps away.

“You… you wanted us to talk about something,” Andrew reminded you, taking a sip of the warm beverage. “And I wanted to talk to you too, so… who should start?”

You were growing nervous, the signs were obvious. In your modern kitchen, there was a window above the sink that let in some golden light. The photons embraced your form, in a way that made Andrew’s heart skip a few beats.

You pushed back some hair behind your ear, pulled on the sleeves of your jumper. Andrew frowned at the sight.

“You’re alright? I can start…”

“No, I… I reckon I should start.”

“Okay.”

He was nervous beyond reason and measure. Andrew dried his clammy palms on his jeans, tried to breathe deeply through his nose, but his heart kept on pounding and his stomach was turning into knots…

You stared at each other for a moment, him expectant and you hesitant. He raised an eyebrow as a silent encouragement for you to speak, but you merely bit on your lower lip.

But then you heaved a sigh, crossed the distance between your bodies in a hurry. Andrew barely had time to blink, and you had grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down to you while you rose to your tiptoes so you could slam your lips to his. But kissing you was a habit by now, and a delicious one too. Andrew’s body was reacting on instinct as he kissed you back, messy and passionate and breathtaking. Your teeth bumped into his in your passion, but he didn’t mind. It was easy to deepen the kiss instead, cradle your face in his hands while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, always closer.

You were making his brain short-circuit, despite the important talk he wanted to have with you. You were everywhere, blurring his senses, making all traces of reason disappear…

Only when he felt your fingers travel down his chest and towards his belt did he stop you, pulling away.

“Wait, wait… stop…”

You immediately took a step back, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah… yeah… I… look, we… We wanted to talk, like… I think we should, erm, talk before we…”

“Or we can have sex, and talk after that.”

“Is that wise?”

“Do we really need to be wise?”

It was tempting. Too tempting to resist. God, he couldn’t think about anything else but your lips, how inviting they looked, how he wanted to kiss your neck too, he could feel his fingers tickle at the thought of touching all these places of your body, entire landscapes of bare skin…

He blinked a couple of times, struggled to swallow, trying to calm down. But blood was pulsing in his ears, and when he tried to remember his carefully-crafted speech, he couldn’t remember a word…

Fuck all of this…

“Alright,” he nodded. “But we talk tonight… cause it’s important…”

“Deal. Deal. Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes… God, yes, please… please, kiss me…”

You were back in his arms in a second, hands in his hair at first, while his travelled along your frame, from chest to hips and arse, feeling your shape through your clothes. You detached your lips from his to take his hand and guide him to your bedroom.

“We should get dressed to talk,” Andrew proposed, his breathing finally settling back into a regular rhythm.

He threw his condom away in the tiny bean next to the door of your bathroom. He grabbed his underwear as he walked back to your bed and handed you your large jumper.

“You’re too beautiful not to be distracting,” he chuckled, only half-joking, while you put on the piece of garment he was giving you.

He noticed how you looked away, how you seemed uncomfortable, all of a sudden. Instead of joining you in bed once more, Andrew sat down on the edge of the mattress, right next to you.

“So… who should begin?” he asked, voice soft and a little timid. “I… like… actually, I think I should…”

“Andy, I… I think you should get dressed.”

He frowned at that remark, or rather… he frowned at the tone you used. Cold and distant, whispered, and your eyes were still fleeing his.

“Why? Am I distracting too?” he asked with a charming smile, forcing a chuckle out. But you didn’t laugh, merely brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Andrew’s nervous smile soon crumbled.

“Right,” he let out in a breath, blushing hard now, heart racing.

He grabbed his undershirt, slowly put it on while trying to swallow back the lump in his throat.

“Look, I… We should talk about… this arrangement of ours…” he started, but you interrupted him, blurting out words he wasn’t expecting so fast he second-guessed if he had heard you right.

“We need to stop sleeping together.”

He was half-bent to grab his pants when you spoke. He froze, looking up at you, cursing at his long hair when it fell before his eyes and hid you away. He stood back up in a jolt.

“What?”

“We… we need to stop this arrangement. Things have changed.”

And all of a sudden there was hope again, brighter than a sun and blinding every bit of reason in him… And he fell for it. No matter the odds, he fell for it, flew straight to it like a moth ready to be burned at the pyre of your flames…

“Right… things have changed for me too. So, actually, I do think that we need to change things between us…”

“I have a date next week.”

He froze again. Stared at you, too stunned to say a thing, too stunned to protest or ask any question or even comprehend what you were saying.

“I… I have a date with a coworker, Maggie. Next week. So… we should stop this… We said we would if we wanted to try something with someone else…”

A date? Next week? Maggie?

You… you wanted to date again… just… not him…

“But… we’ve just had sex,” breathed Andrew.

It sounded stupid and he knew it, and yet these were the only words he could summon now. The first that came to mind, the only protest he could find.

There were too many emotions all at once. It felt… like falling… falling forever… like the ground being stolen from under his feet. He had no air left in his lungs, and he had forgotten how to breathe.

“Yeah… it wasn’t planned. But I… I just… Maybe I shouldn’t have done that…”

His lip trembled, but his cheeks were still dry.

You were regretting him now?

“I think I just… wanted one last moment with you. Before we’d stop and I would date someone else.”

“So… you… you have a date?”

“Yes, I have a date with Maggie.”

“What do you mean, you have a date with Maggie? Who the fuck is Maggie?”

Andrew stared at you as he was about to cry, and he couldn’t help it. He blinked tears away, but they lingered at the edges of his eyes, ready to fall at your words.

“She’s nice. She works at HR, she’s a secretary. She asked me out, and… I don’t know, I said yes. So… I think we should stop this arrangement.”

“Oh…”

At long last, the information was being recorded in his brain. Andrew shook himself back to earth, turned around, fleeing you and your beautiful eyes, hurrying to put his trousers back on. He almost fell in the process, already looking for his shirt. He felt so exposed like this, so vulnerable, so flawed…

You were going on a date… with someone else… because you didn’t want to date him… he was the fucking problem. He was all along…

“I just… it was… good.”

He nodded, but didn’t let out a sound.

He couldn’t look at you. He would start crying if he did. He needed to run away as fast as he could…

“And she’s nice, you know? And… just… easy. Not like, easy to sleep with, but…”

“I understand.”

Of course, he did. Same argument all over again. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he?

But what if he dropped everything? What if he stopped touring? Stopped the whole music thing?

He thought about what you looked like right now, perfect and dishevelled and still gently glowing after the efforts of love-making. Absolutely perfect. Yeah… yeah… You deserved better than him, no matter the touring or the staying…

“Andy… are you angry?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t start acknowledging his feelings now. He would start crying if he did.

Where the fuck was his sock?

“I loved the nights we had together,” you went on, apparently unaware of the daggers each of your words planted through his heart, and for the first time in the long years the two of you had known each other, he wanted to stop hearing your voice.

You seemed to need to fill up the silence that Andrew was trying to maintain. Perhaps it was a way to reach out, perhaps it was a way to keep him at bay. He wasn’t certain about that.

“It was nice.”

Where was that fucking sock?!

“Andy?”

He put on his jumper, abandoning the thought of his black sock. He couldn’t lose any more time, he couldn’t breathe properly anymore…

“You’re okay? Can you say something?”

Silence. Only the rubbing of fabric against fabric as Andrew was getting ready to leave. He only had to grab his shoes and jacket in your hallway.

“Andy, wait!”

But he was already outside of your bedroom.

“You can’t be mad at me! We agreed about this, Andy! We agreed that… that… this was nothing but sex! It didn’t mean anything.”

He was blinded by tears when he reached for your doorknob, unlocking the door without seeing the keys he was turning in the lock.

“Andy! Where are you going? Stop! We need to talk about this!”

He shrugged you off when you reached for him.

“Andy!”

But then he was shutting the door behind him, his movement so harsh it shook the doorframe. He hurried to his car while he dried his eyes, refusing to crumble now, in the alley leading to your house.

He drove blindly, unaware of a destination, of a will behind the turns he took and the roads he chose. The words kept ringing in his ears, he couldn’t shut them out, they played on repeat in his busy mind…

This was nothing but sex.

It didn’t mean anything.

Did it not? The way you touched him, the way you kissed him, the way you held him… did it not mean something?!

His hold tightened on the wheel. His jaw clenched until it was painful, until he could hear it.

Nothing. The tenderness in your touch, the fondness in your gaze, the sighs on your lips. The way you held him after it was done, like you needed him to land again gently on the ground, like you held onto a dream before it faded. How you stared into his soul when you connected in the most intimate way possible. How you laughed together until none of you could breathe, how you talked for hours about the most meaningless things and the most intimate parts of your lives. How you let him be yours, how you almost let yourself be his…

Only an almost…

He parked the car before a house he had always called home, and it was only then that he realised where he was. He stared at the familiar door of his parents’ house, the curtains behind the windows, the light that came through them.

So, you had let him love you, and it meant nothing at all?

He turned off the engines, stared at the house for a suspended moment. What would he do now? He couldn’t possibly face you again after this. He was about to lose you for good; because after having a taste of what loving you felt like, he couldn’t go back to being a mere friend. No… no, he wasn’t strong enough for that. For seeing you happy with someone else, knowing that you held him close for a moment only to let him go, because he wasn’t enough.

He picked up his phone, ready to do something stupid, something he would regret the second his thumb would press send. He typed the text under your name.

If I gave up on touring, if I stayed home… would you give me a chance? Would I be enough if I weren’t just a ghost?

He heaved a sigh, resting his head against his seat, head tilted upwards in his exhale. He blinked tears away, staring at the dark ceiling of his car.

Did you really feel nothing now? Did it not hurt at all for you? Not even a little bit? Not at all?

Andrew didn’t press send. He deleted the text, opened the door, climbed out of the car and into the street bathed in an inky darkness and orange streetlights. His feet guided him to the safest place on Earth while he tugged his phone into his pocket. His right foot was hurting in his shoe without a sock on. He didn’t even notice.

It took his mother a moment to open the door, nothing surprising at this hour. She saw him through the glass of the backdoor, and her eyes grew round. Andrew finally noticed he was crying.

The door opened in a hurry, bumping into Raine’s foot in the process.

“Andy? Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

His lower lip trembled as he stared at his mother, hands digging further into his pockets, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His throat was too tight to speak.

“Honey, what’s wrong? Tell me. Tell me what’s wrong?”

She narrowed her eyes a little as she guessed, aiming straight for his heart.

“Is it Y/N?”

He opened his mouth to answer but all that he could let out was a sob. His legs were shaking, he could feel all of his strength leaving his body. He barely registered his own moevements as he bent into his mother’s arms, folding around her frame.

“Oh, Andy… here, it’s alright. It’s gonna be okay, darling. It’s okay. I’m here, I’m here…”

She rubbed his back, in this soothing movement that had never failed to appease him ever since he was a child. His voice was a hoarse whisper when he let out the most painful words he had ever pronounced.

“She doesn’t love me, mom. She doesn’t feel anything… What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do without her?”

She let him cry for a moment longer, his father calling from the living room to know who was at the door. Raine merely answered with her son’s name, and gently pushed him upwards so he would stand straighter again.

“Well, for a start, I’m going to make you a cup of tea, with a lot of honey. And then, we’ll figure out the rest.”

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #series #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

[fishnapple]

CRYSTAL READING : Getting in touch with your inner child

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Book a personal reading for you.

Reading for each group below:

1. Moss agate

An active child radiating warm energy everywhere they go.

There is something oddly vulnerable yet brave about your inner child.

A balanced yin and yang energy.

Every passing emotion and need is shown truthfully, no hiding.

I see a red apple under the sun, so full and warm.

The way your inner child sees the world is very unique and magical. If you speak from the inner wisdom of your inner child's honestly, without filters, you would see the profound impacts those words have on everyone.

This child is very creative and always on the move, ready to have fun with their friends. I see that your inner child doesn't really like solitude very much. They need to be free, mingling with people and nature. They care very much about other's well-being.

Life should be an endless adventure with new discovery every moment. To honestly be open to life and see the beauty of it. That is your inner child's belief. Their message for you would be "drink plenty, eat healthy, getting your daily dose of sunshine and play with me often."

🪆How to get more in touch with your inner child :

Make your emotions more transparent

Sharing the little things with people

Be open-minded , speak with candour and honesty without judgement

Go on adventures, travel

Move your body around, dancing, sports

Try out foreign culture's foods

2. Citrine

A doer rather than a talker.

There is a dualistic energy to your inner child.

Soft, gentle, but assertive and bold

Elusive and intense

Quiet but deeply philosophical, is both the teacher and the student

Discipline yet messy

Your inner child is very independent and solid. They don't really need other people's validation or praise to know their worth. Quite stubborn also. Sometimes, they would find it hard to accept help or advice from others.

There is a fascination with hidden things, mysteries, but also a reluctance to delve into them.

Your inner child likes routine and structure. They would feel threatened and nervous if your life is lacking those.

Their deepest need is to have faith and hope in life, that is also their biggest fear, to lose faith and hope. They are very brave, but everything needs to have meaning for them to understand and navigate the world.

Their ideal about the world is deep and compassionate. If you live your life in a directionless and superficial way, your inner child will be very lost and sad. Their message for you would be "always look for the light."

🪆How to get more in touch with your inner child :

Have some routine and build more structure in your daily life

Getting to know your inner fears, shadow work

Speak with intention and when necessary only, avoid frivolities

Finding faith, what you truly believe in

Be more assertive and brave, but with a gentle touch

3. Moonstone

I see an image of a child making a snow angel.

Life is a celebration for your inner child.

Nothing sets your inner child in a high mood than sudden outings and adventure. I think your inner child could get along very well with the first group's inner child 🤭, they are so similar.

I'm also seeing building blocks and castles. Your inner child enjoys building things.

Their deepest need is to be protected and guided through the dark. They could have a fear of the darkness, ghosts, and unknown entity.

Even though they are brave and open, they seem to have endured some deep pains that make them fearful. Lacking an authoritative figure to guide them, having domineering and demanding care takers.

They would love to talk to you constantly, to connect with you, and always be a companion for you. Their message for you right now would be "no matter how things change, we will build our castle tall and strong to weather them all, just be sure to keep the light on"

🪆How to get more in touch with your inner child :

Journaling your thoughts, whimsical inspiration

Active imagination, imagine having a dialogue with your inner child

Lying down, facing the sky above

Making something that feels magical

A kaleidoscope

Going for a swim, taking a run

Discover some new hobbies

Love.

#crystal reading #lithomancy #channeled message #pick a card #pick a pile #inner world #divination #intuitive messages #astrology #inner child #crystal healing #inner child healing #tarotcommunity #tarot reading #take care of yourself #psychic reading #pick a group #tarot #occult #tarot community #spirituality

[leandra-winchester]

On Oliver's social media behavior regarding Bucktommy vs. Buddie

Kind of in line with many of the good points raised by @bbbuckaroo in this ask response, but I wanted to make my own post about it.

I, too, have seen posts that prompted this ask - from more well-meaning people remarking that Oliver could/should maybe say something against the toxic Buddie shippers and promote Bucktommy more, to more critical voices saying he's essentially ship-baiting with Buddie because he keeps posting about them.

As the referenced post says, Oliver "knows how important and pivotal the Buddie FRIENDSHIP is".

So let's look at that from Oliver's (and in connection also Ryan's) point of view for a moment here.

You're an actor who's been playing one half of what is one of the most integral relationships on a very successful show. That relationship has textually always been a friendship, but with elements that make it richer and deeper than most regular friendships; it's a sort of family dynamic.

It could be read as having a potential for romance, and you're open to that, should the writers ever decide that's the direction they want to take it. You have said so multiple times, not just to appease a large group of fans, but because you genuinely mean it. You're open to it, but you don't know if it's ever going to happen, nor do you have any power over it.

You do love the way fans are celebrating this relationship though - whether they highlight the canonical platonic aspects or take it a step further. You "love the love" (as Ryan has put it). It's great, it's heartwarming, it's moving because the potential of that romance and your character figuring out he's bisexual means so much to queer fans who are looking for good queer representation (which your show already has, but there could always be a bit more, right?). You see and want to acknowledge all the creativity people pour into it.

But you're careful after a while, because, so far, that relationship has only textually been platonic, and some fans are accusing both the writers and you of queerbaiting.

So you take a step back, do less social media for a while. You don't want them to think you're confirming anything just because you see value in certain fictional interpretations of the text.

But then you are told that your character is supposed to come out as bisexual; he'll have a romance with a background character they're bringing back for a couple of episodes. While that's not exactly the relationship many of the fans hoped to get, it's still amazing. It's the right representation of bisexual characters that is very rarely done right, and it'll confirm that they always read your character correctly as bisexual. It'll be so validating to the fans to know they didn't misinterpret that, and you're very happy about that.

But you still love the family-like, platonic relationship you've built with the other character for 5 whole seasons before this. And you love the relationship your character has with his son, too. (In a way, Buck is to Christopher what Bobby is to Buck - a father figure).

You want to keep celebrating that because your new romantic relationship doesn't replace the year-long friendship with Eddie. You want to show fans that 'hey, even though this isn't exactly what you hoped for, it's still great; it's important. Eddie and Chris are still and always will be a huge part of Buck's life. Don't worry. Buck will not abandon them. I still see you and acknowledge you, but let's focus on the textual friendship and platonic love here. Which is also very, very important, and very dear to me personally."

And there isn't that much to share about a romantic relationship that's just begun yet anyway, especially with the season being so short and packed with multiple story arcs around the main characters. It's all still at the start, and while it's great, exciting and has the potential to become something lasting, nothing's set in stone yet. You probably also don't want to have people get their hopes up that Bucktommy is 'confirmed' as endgame; and you don't want to put a main character who has his own, very complex story arc going on this season on the backburner.

You've obviously 'done it wrong'. But no matter how else you could have done it, it would have been wrong as well. You probably know this by now, because no matter what you did in the past, there were always people who interpreted your actions and words in bad faith to confirm their own agenda.

So what the hell are you supposed to do other than what feels good to you while applying a little bit of caution?

---

Oliver CANNOT get it right. It's simply impossible. If he didn't post at all, some fans would be mad that he doesn't say anything. If he only or primarily promoted Bucktommy, they'd be mad that he ignores Eddie and Chris entirely. If he only promoted Buddie (platonic) and Chris, they'd be mad that he's ship baiting. And if he goes for the balance of putting his character's 6-year history with Eddie+Chris and the newly developing romance with Tommy in perspective, i.e. what he's doing right now, they're still mad.

In any potential scenario, the loud and obnoxiously entitled portion of the fandom would find a reason to criticize. It really does not matter what he does.

So, where does that leave us? Personally, I'd say leave the man alone. Let him post and say what he feels is best, and don't try to look at it under any 'bad faith' lens. He's probably given it sufficient thought and does what he thinks is best and feels right.

#Oliver Stark #bucktommy #buddie #yes I'm tagging it as that because it's about that ship too #buddie but platonic #platonic buddie #fandom discourse #911 discourse #911 #this post isn't anti buddie #and I believe Oliver isn't anti buddie either #it's ONE interpretation of the show #but it's fanon as of now #and imho indefinitely #luckily there are many buddie shippers who get that #but the obnoxious ones are sadly the loudest #as always

[nuumbie]

KARMA’S A DOG.

Prompt: You’re a prized worker at the IPC Marketing Department. You spend your days waiting for that flash of black.

Trigger Warning: Reader is mentally ill and a little shit head. Curse Words. General Violent Terms and Reader Gets Ragdolled. Boothill is NOT into you!!! He actually hates you! Guilt! Etc, etc… it’s just all hurt no comfort.

Author’s Note: Written to celebrate his trailer. Save a horse. Ride a cowboy. Contains spoilers regarding his character story.

He’s resting peacefully. This should still count as sleep. You pose the question in your head if you replace the pieces of something, how far until the thing is something else entirely. But he’s still alive. You find relish in that.

He still has his head. Maybe, that’s all he has. You wonder how the surgery must have gone. Of course you’ve met people who’ve changed themselves so drastically with robotics that you couldn’t recognize them after the surgeries. It’s a rebirth in ways. When you change so dramatically that you’re a different person by the end. His body’s 90% metal. 10% flesh. So, wouldn’t it be the cybernetics that win?

Despite everything. You don’t think so. Perhaps, that’s all that he needs. I think therefore I am. There’s no doubt he’s alive. Not to you, anyway. He’s brimming with human life. He’s more alive than you. Not in the same way where the question poses in your mind with other beings, or creatures, Boothill is obstinately simple.

You like that. He’s simple. The Hunt is straight forward. A single path. A single road. You like that you don’t have to read his intentions. You know what he wants and why.

Boothill. Galaxy Ranger. IPC Hunter. The Man who just tried to sneak into your office and put a bullet through your head like he has with many of your employees, those who’ve worked directly under you no less. You know. Most criminals don’t get this far. Not far at all past Pier Point. Oswaldo will have a riot.

If he knew he would. You’re not going to tell him.

Boothill is special.

The cowboy opens his eyes. Your personal grim reaper.

“I see you’re awake.” You smile in a loving way. If you can even manage that. People who can control their expressions make it seem so easy. Laying across his chest. You’ve opened up his core to play with his inner circuits. He must not like that, though considering there’s a burning hatred in his eyes which threatens to scorch you. You glance up towards his face and sigh and ignoring the lingering, simmering, resentment. His body is heating up beneath your touch. So, maybe it resonates with his feelings, you wonder if his body steams. “We need to stop meeting like this. You’re going to make me think you’re obsessed with me.”

It’s the opposite way around. You know that. But the very idea that it isn’t causes him to lunge at you. The cowboy turns into nothing more than a blur, all the wires connected to the body collecting samples that took at least a good thirty minutes pulled from him. Some ripped from the walls, and in instants he’s on you.

“You dang—“ his hands make its way to your shoulders, you’re flipped without hesitation. his hands grasping you down, he lays on top of you. breath heavy. robots don’t breathe, though, so you try to think of another word as he catches himself and tries to make it so he’s the one on top. “— you again!?”

“I’ve been meaning to get my hands on you… you oughta’… you ANGEL!” He screeches. Music to your ears as he shakes you more like you’re more ragdoll than person. “AEONS, it’s so freaking annoying! You absolute delight! How did I lose to…”

“Thank you so much for the compliment.” You smile back. Probably the only one getting anything out of this arrangement. Pinned against the floor hand pressed tightly against your waist so you can’t struggle. He should’ve pressed it against your mouth. But it isn’t like you’re going to scream. You’re certain. Lots of women would love to be in this position you’re currently in. But it’s you. And this is far from some sweet, pure, little romantic story. You’re not delusional. Though, you act like you are purely because it annoys him. It’s good for him to build up his rage, his contentment, good. “I was just looking over your upgrades since the last time you invaded Pier Point. As for asking how I beat you~…”

“The electronic upgrade was not the best idea.” You smile. “If we can control your language, your body isn’t hard especially for a renowned genius like me. Have to talk to your doctor about that. You’re lucky I’m the one that found you. Where’s my thanks?”

“Aeons, of COURSE you Market-Phonies have something to annoy the DANGNATION out of me.” he grinds his teeth, looking around for his pistol. making a point about how dead he wants you. you can feel his grip loosen and tighten. he’s likely processing which one would get you to be quieter. “Where’d you put it? My gun. I’ve decided. I’m killing you now. Puttin’ ya out of your misery, sweet-face! You think this is rough? Think of a 9mm lead in your skull will be?”

“Cabinet.” You put on your best smile. “For me?”

“Of course for you. Love you.” You didn’t take away his ability to say hate. So, he must have said something like screw. Or maybe it’s a replacement for something else? You just know it’s bad. “You knew this was coming. I’m not going to miss my shot again. You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You did know it was coming. You wished he would get the one person above you first so you could witness your boss with his brains blown out, the outcries that an Emanator of Qlipoth killed. You could have gotten wine with Diamond and laughed about it and died happy knowing the world was washed clean forever of Oswaldo Schneider.

But you can’t be so lucky. You’ll have to wish him luck. If he actually manages to kill you that is — you’re not making it hard.

He grabs you by the neck so you can’t struggle away to call help. The iron hands encased over your neck like a shackle isn’t a bad feeling. You almost quote as such so he might grab you a little tighter. Sadly, it seems his finger is directly over your windpipe— making talking an impossibility. He really doesn’t want you to run. Not like you would. Dragging you as he goes towards the cabinet. He presses you against the wall one-handed.

Using his other hand to peruse through your belongings. Even if you struggled. You doubt you could make a dent against the material. You’ve always been more of a pen instead of a sword guy.

It seems he’s smarter than you thought. Since, he checks the bullets in the gun. Rather show-offishly, too. He clicks the trigger against your head and nothing comes out. He counts them out, too. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

You already knew that none of the shots would ring. But here’s a certain heart-pounding feeling even if you know it’s empty. He clutches the gun even tighter.

Obviously, you’ve cleaned them out. He glares at you. Of course you’re the one at fault. Of course you were smart enough to know the first thing he’d do when he woke up was try to kill you. Of course you wanted to see the look on his face when he got his gun back when he realized it was empty. “Don’t you have spares? You eat them, don’t you? Just shit them out.” You smile. It’s hard to talk.

The floor hits you. Hard. Or maybe you hit the floor? Either way. It hurts. Your head spins. But, you collect yourself. Maybe. Dizzy people often can’t tell they’re dizzy. “You going to kill me right? You don’t need a gun to do that. To make it painful. To get your little revenge.” You’re sputtering. Aeons. It be embarrassing if you didn’t say that. If you’re slurring. Though who are you to ask for a clean death?

“I don’t get you.” Boothil’s boot presses against your chest— “make up your mind, you wanna die or not? You’re seriously flip-flopping.”

You smile back at him from the floor. “I’d rather my employees not go down with me when you’ve got to escape. Jeremy just got a promotion. You won’t die here, will you space cowboy? So, you’ll have to make your way out.”

“Might as well limit the casualties.”

“You took everything from me.” Robots don’t stumble over their words. Robots don’t hold grudges. People do. People live for others. “What right do you have? You have way more blood on your hands than I do.”

“You’re not wrong.” you repeat, quietly. “It’s karma. It’s justice. I’m so happy you exist.”

“I could never ever dream of it. I could never.” You smile. “So I’m glad that you did. Thank you.”

He looks down at you.

He steps back. You already know. Too self-aware for your own good.

Maybe you should have shut up. You already know you’ve messed it all up. The way he looks at you.

“Everyone here’s so fluffed up.” he grimaces. rubbing his shoe against the floor. “Anyone the IPC touches get’s gosh-dang ruined.”

You know why he did. You ruined his life. You did. So, it was only fair he did the same in return—

Reaching out— before you realize it. “Hey, wait.”

“You’re not dragging me down with you! I want you to pay I’m not letting you off easy. When we meet again. I’ll have changed this place forever. And you’ll be forced to live with yourself.”

He doesn’t even look at you.

He lets you go and he runs out the door. You hear the sounds of loud screams. Shooting guns. It turns into a blur after a few seconds. They’re going to fail to apprehend him. You hope.

On the messy floor. Your lab a wreak. You’re sure. They’ll come here. They’ll question you.

You’ll lie. Jade can tell. But she won’t tell on you.

“Fuck you, too.”

You put your hands over your eyes and you just ignore everything until someone comes and gets you.

You’ll meet him again. You can wait. It’s all you ever do.

#boothill #boothill x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #🗑️ trash writes #x reader

[hunterofartemis7]

Pt.10

Damain: well?

Asshole doctor: I have nothing to apologize for! She’s just a teenager with and her pregnancy hormones make her exaggerate!

Jason; pregnancy hormones!?

Raven:…..

Kori: shit

Tim: you’re pregnant!?

Raven:..*nods, tearing up again* I wanted to tell you myself…..😣

Jason: *draws his knife* okay so not only will you pay for making her cry the first time and insulting her, but also for ruining her chance to tell us she’s pregnant on her own terms!

Asshole doctor: you can’t do anything to me! We’re in a hospital! The security will have you arrested!

Tim: good point. *drags him outside by his hair*

Damian: *smirks*

Dick: we got this asshole covered little d. Go back with Rae and see your baby.

Raven: thanks dick..

Dick: don’t mention it, and congratulations!! *hugs her tightly* we are so celebrating after now I gotta go! *runs after Tim*

Jason: *ruffles her hair* congratulations kiddo. *follows dick and Tim outside*

Very Nice doctor: Miss? Are you ready?

Raven: *nods*

Very Nice doctor: alright. *brings her back in the room with Damian and Kori* Did he check any vitals before being an ass?

Raven: no…

Very nice doctor: I’m sorry Hun. I don’t know why he wasn’t fired yet. *checks her blood pressure, blood sugar, heart rate breathing etc.*

Damian: *staring her down like a hawk*

Very nice doctor: don’t worry sir, I’m got gonna hurt her

Damian: hm

Very nice doctor: well your BP is a bit high, but that’s to be expected considering what just happened. Blood sugar is also a bit lower than we’d like, but Your heart and lungs sound good.

Raven:..is that gonna hurt the baby?

Very nice doctor: right now it shouldn’t. You’re stressed so it’s understandable to have a higher BP than normal. Your blood sugar is more what I’m worried about. Have you eaten anything today?

Raven: yeah..but I can’t keep anything down

Very nice doctor: how often are you throwing up?

Raven: pretty often..I don’t exact times

VND: that’s okay hun. And it says in your records your anemic right?

Raven: *nods*

VND: are you on any iron supplements?

Raven: no ma’am..

VND: okay. If its alright I’d like to put you on some for the rest of the pregnancy, as well as prenatal vitamins and some meds to help with the nausea

Kori: are all these meds good for her?

VND: yes. One is just vitamins, the other is similar, mostly just to get some iron in her system. The nausea meds are the only “medication” she’ll actually be on. And don’t worry, I won’t prescribe her anything that wasn’t safe for her and baby.

Kori: okay.

VND: now with all that out of the way, you ready to see your baby?

Raven: yes!!

VND: *smiles* okay, lay down hun.

Raven: *lays down on the bed*

VND: *puts a blanket over her and pulls her hospital gown up* fair warning, this is gonna be cold. *gets that weird jell stuff that they use for ultrasound and puts it on her belly*

Raven: *flinched from the cold*

VND: sorry

Raven: it’s okay..

Damian: *holds her hand beside her*

Raven: *small squeeze*

VND: you ready?

Raven: yes

VND: *puts the wand (I think that’s what it’s called) on her abdomen*

Raven: *watching the screen waiting to see the baby*

VND: *points at the small bean* and there’s your baby

Raven:..🥹

Damian: *smiles with happy tears in his eyes* it’s small🥹

VND: yes it is. Your 6 weeks right now, and baby has a strong heart beat

Kori: 🥹 it’s so precious..

Raven: *happy crying* our baby..*looks at Damian* I can’t wait to meet it..🥹

Damian: *kisses her and her belly* I can’t wait either. I’m already in love with it

VND: you two are adorable

*meanwhile outside*

Cop: so one more time….why are you beating up a doctor?🤦🏻‍♀️

Jason: cause he is very very rude and unprofessional to his patients and made our sister in law to be cry.

Tim: and we have about 200+ different complaints about him that the hospital keeps throwing in the trash

Cop:….i don’t get paid enough

#damian x raven #damirae #raven dc #raven roth #raven teen titans #damian wayne #robin damian #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #koriand'r #protective #pregnancy

[kirikorik]

- And yet you left me. - And yet I left you. You'll never forget…

Joost Klein × fem!reader.

Summary: You loved each other when you were teenagers, then he ran away, and now he's back again, and no matter how much you try to avoid him, you won't succeed... After many years, you receive an invitation to a party in honor of Joost's loss at Eurovision.

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 16+! Triggers! Violence! Sexualization! Sexy theme! Not canon! The story is not reality and everything except the known facts is my fantasy!

I don't know English. Maybe there are a lot of mistakes. ♡♡♡

The party is in full swing. The sounds of electronic music are hitting your ears, but you are laughing happily, feeling the vibration in your chest. You are a little drunk, you want to relax a little after work, so you replace your drink with a new one and go further to the dance floor to forget yourself this evening. This party was a celebration of losing.

Just a few days ago, Eurovision ended, Switzerland won with some damn singer. You had nothing against the performer from this country, but you were still bitter and offended for what you did to the «main star» of this party. Joost Klein was expelled. He could have easily won, the vote ratings in his honor were skyrocketing. People liked his songs, his style, people liked him as a person. But the truth is that people couldn't help but like Joost. He was something of a cherished dream. Unattainable and too mundane. The guys wanted to be friends with him, the girls just wanted him. And yet he was excluded from Eurovision, and now Joost was celebrating his loss, his lost dream…

You raise your hands, the flashing lights in front of your eyes spin, sweat rolls down your forehead. The room is hot and stuffy, but you don't care. You don't care. Your only dream is that this evening will never end and that you will never see Joost again. But he's like a ghost, a silhouette shining in the golden light. Joost is irresistible from the tips of his snow-white hair to his bottomless blue eyes.

The crowd is moving, changing, and no matter how much you blink, you still see only him in front of you. He has white paint on his face, black circles around his eyes, he's wearing his favorite makeup, which makes your legs give way. He looks so fake… Joost is unpredictable. Joost is crazy. Joost… You're fucking in love with him.

Someone steps on your foot, but you don't care. You close your eyes painfully and swear to yourself that you won't open them until dawn today. So as not to see his silhouette, so as not to hear his voice in the songs tickling your ears, so as not to feel his hot palms on your ribs, so as not to cry from how hard his nails dig into your skin. He's standing behind you, snuggling up to you, dancing to your rhythm. He is tall, even very tall, so casually he puts his chin on top of your head and slows down to the beat of his music, as if you are dancing not to loud, rhythmic hip-hop, but to the melody accompanying your unforgettable waltz. People are drunk and don't notice you. You don't want to think about whether it's a dream, whether you feel his touch. You take a deep breath…

You and Joost weren't friends, but you were definitely more than just acquaintances. You've known him for most of your life, ever since you went to school, when you lived next door to him. Joost Klein is a naughty, arrogant wretch. — that's what your parents used to say. Joost Klein was a couple of years older than you, and you were forbidden to communicate with him, but, to tell the truth, you didn't even know him. You often watched from the window of the children's bedroom as he played ball with his father and older brother, but you were always afraid to approach them. Your parents never paid enough attention to you.

Once in childhood, your mother ordered you to put on black clothes. But you didn't listen and chose a white shirt with red hearts. Of course, no one told you that it was very important, your parents ignored you. Standing at the funeral of Joost's father, who died of cancer, you realized what a mistake you had made. Joost looked into your eyes without blinking, as if he had known you for a long time. He probably hated the scarlet hearts on your shirt. You tightened your grip on your mother's hand and lowered your tear-stained gaze to the ground.

He was thirteen, and you were a couple of years younger and didn't understand much when an ambulance arrived at your neighbor's house a year later. You didn't understand much when a body covered with a black cloth was carried out of the house on a stretcher. You didn't understand much when the white-haired boy jumped out after the doctors, screaming loudly and heartbreakingly. You didn't understand much when Joost's older brother held him in his arms, comforting him. You didn't understand a lot, but bitter tears were rolling down your cheeks. You never saw Miss Klein again.

You're afraid, but you still lean back against Joost's wide, sweat-soaked chest, cling to him as if for the last breath of air, but you don't open your eyes even when his right palm begins to slide over your cheek. He knows that you won't dare to look at him, and yet he's watching your face intently in the hope of seeing at least something.…

When Joost returned to school a few months later, he was smiling as if nothing had happened. As if his heart didn't hurt unbearably much. Then, looking at him from around the corner, you promised to share his pain with him. Being the only viewer of his YouTube channel, you, as the most devoted fan, listened attentively to all his speeches. You left likes on his videos, wrote comments, it seemed like you knew everything about him. You weren't sure if Joost at least remember your name.…

When you turned 15, you often watched at night as Joost ran away from home, as each time he was picked up by the same dark blue car with his friends. You dreamed of going to the same place where Joost went one day. He always returned just before dawn, always with a drunken sincere smile on his lips, always happy. Was he happy? Even a fool would have realized that it wasn't.

Your hips move in a slow rhythm to the right and left, Joost pressing his pelvis against you follows your every movement, exhaling hotly into the back of your head, making you tremble and tremble…

You remember the horror reflected on your face when you looked into someone else's blue eyes. So similar to Joost's eyes… A brunette twice your size was pinning you to the wall with his body… It's the first time you've run away from home after your adult friends. The guy standing in front of you was Joost's classmate, one of his best friends. But, nevertheless, it was he who persistently groped you, drunkenly muttering something and ignoring your tears, running his hands under your short skirt. The room is dark, music is blaring outside the door, no one will hear you.…

A calloused palm squeezes your thin neck, interrupting you breathing for a few moments, and then sliding back to your cheekbone. Your ears are blocked, you can't hear the music and Joost's ragged breathing over your temple. He doesn't say a word, but you understand everything and therefore drink the remaining alcohol in the glass at a time. There's no way you're going to listen to him. Do you want to forget about the existence of Joost Klein… And yet you're at his party. And yet you responded to his invitation, but not to the bell.…

You swallow back tears, mumble something about your parents, about your mother, beg him to stop and not touch you. But other men's hands are not listening to you, lifting up your short top. Other people's lips wetly kiss your neck, nibble your shoulders. You try to push Joost's friend away, but you can't do anything, he's older and twice your size, stronger…

You dig your nails into Joost's forearm, trying to stop him and forbid him to stop. You pray that he doesn't stop, and you hope that you're dreaming all this.

The flash is followed by a loud bang and swearing. Dirty alien hands are letting you go. You shiver and cling to the wall, staring wide-eyed at the floor. Your fingers lower the edge of your skirt, wanting to cover your body as much as possible. You're almost hysterical, and when someone else's hands fall on your shaking shoulders again, you shudder violently, raising your head sharply. Joost is standing in front of you. Pale. He seems very scared. There are drops of blood on his cheekbone, the knuckles of his right hand are broken, and his best friend is lying unconscious on the icy floor next to you. But he hugs you with trembling hands and prays that you will be all right. His sweet lonely neighbor, who seems to know everything about him and at the same time nothing at all. Joost was not a fighter, he was not an athlete, and although in junior high he often fought with other children, as he got older, he completely forgot about it. And yet, when he saw you in tears, his fists automatically clenched. He was only thinking about how to protect you. — It's time for us to go home. He says softly, before borrowing an old navy blue car from a friend and taking you away.…

You hate him. You hate it as much as you hate yourself. But for Joost, you are the most valuable, the closest. You're what he always wants, but his hands only touch you when he's drunk. His lips don't know the taste of your lips. His eyes have never seen your naked body. Although he would be willing to give a lot if you told him at least once — yes. You loved him. He knew it, but it was all terribly ridiculous, almost disgustingly funny.

It's cold in the car, it smells like weed and alcohol. Joost doesn't seem to have a driver's license. But you don't even think about it, clinging to the car window and shivering in the front seat. Joost's doesn't look at you, but he's gripping the steering wheel tightly. An oppressive silence fills the interior of the car, and only occasionally your short sobs scare the two of you.

— Bastard… — you whisper softly, bringing your hands back and painfully digging your nails into Joost's scalpel, tangling your hands in his snow—white hair. You think he doesn't hear your words, but Just just chuckles softly and snuggles closer to you.

You don't say a word to each other when your parents meet you at the door of the house more angry than scared, you want to hate Joost for telling your parents everything. But it seems that the contempt in the eyes of your mother and father in Joost's direction is enough for you two.

— Y/n… — he drunkenly mutters your name…

You're under house arrest, and all you have is a view of his house from the window. You cry, remembering everything that happened, and you can't contain your anger when you see Joost climbing out of his room window again late at night. But the car in the yard is already a different color: scarlet, expensive and shiny, and a tall brunette is driving… There is disappointment in your heart, pain in your soul…

His hands tickle your ribs, stroke your waist, pity your body. Joost is unpredictable, like the first snow in October or the last in May. He comes unexpectedly, bursts into your life without any warning, as if you've been waiting for him for a long time. Have you been waiting for him? In response, you are silent, but your trembling hands stroke his cheekbones, slide along his neck while you press your back against his chest. You arch in the small of your back and hear your bones crunch, but it doesn't hurt you, just a little bit.

He smiles, it seems to sparkle and happily at his new girlfriend, a fateful brunette his high school classmate. She is one of the most beautiful girls in school: rich parents, good reputation, excellent grades. Joost is her opposite, but opposites eventually attract, don't they? You bite the inside of your cheek, talking to your friends, but your eyes are glued to the newly minted couple cooing at the entrance to the chemistry room…

— Why again? — you mumble, knowing the answer perfectly well…

When you see them naked in Joost's bedroom through the window of your house, something inside dies. You cry loudly, wipe your tears into your pillow, swallow your sobs and hope that everything will end soon.…

— I promised you, — Joost replies with an ironic laugh, whispering in your ear. Your skin is covered with goosebumps, and tears come to your eyes again.

You're drunk again, you ran away from home again, but now you have a reason for it — non-reciprocal love. There is a fog in my head, a picture floats before my eyes, how you joyfully rush into the arms of some unknown guy. Now you're 16, now you can. Someone's lips are sliding down your neck, somewhere in your head your mind is screaming at you to run, whispering that you don't want this. Your heart squeezes painfully in my chest, and your watery eyes are filled with memories of that damn night when Joost's ex-best friend tried to force you… You feel sick, sick and…

— Do you remember the night I promised I'd never leave you? — that damn grin that suits Joost so well doesn't leave his lips while he leaves a trail of kisses on your neck. Maybe you'll finally come to terms, maybe you'll finally give a damn and just say — yes?

Your head is spinning, and your legs don't hold you at all when long-familiar male hands, covered with ridiculous tattoos, pull you out of someone else's arms. You want to scream, but you just melt under the influence of a few bottles of alcohol and obediently follow Joost through the crowd. Somewhere behind you, you hear a woman screaming. The scream of that brunette bitch, that's what you called her.

— You were very drunk, crying and begging me not to leave you, remember? — Joost is circling you in his arms, hoarsely and insistently, without stopping whispering…

You're screaming. Loudly, tearing his throat out as the car leaves the city. Joost doesn't say a word, he's mad as hell, and except for the look in his eyes — «I told you never to go to high school parties again.» — You can't see anything anymore.

— I'd like to forget… — you see bright lights through your closed eyelids.…

It's night outside, the sky is overcast, and you can't see the moon or the stars, only the headlights of a damn car you know illuminate the road. Joost is looking at you, right into your eyes. His face is young without wrinkles and although his life has been hard, he still has naivety in his soft features. His white fluffy hair, always sticking out in different directions is wet. His white T-shirt is stuck to his chest, he breathes loudly, pulls his light eyebrows together and shushes through his teeth… In all the years that you've known each other, you've never had a normal conversation. But it doesn't seem to be necessary for any of you when you impulsively approach him and find his lips at random. You're fucking drunk giving Joost your first kiss. Joost doesn't push you away, and you beg him never to leave you again, he swears he won't leave you.…

— You'll never forget… — the blond man laughs slyly, resting his chin on your shoulder, you can feel his heart beating in his chest with your shoulder blades, and you want to tear out your own.…

A ringing slap in the face tears the air with a pop. The fatal couple, consisting of an failed singer, a party lover and the obedient daughter of rich parents, breaks up right in the hallway of the school. Now Joost's ex-girlfriend slaps him in the face. It's painful. But instead of at least saying something to her, Joost looks sideways with his icy blue eyes at you…

— Never… — you stutter, and tears come to your eyes… It's not even fair…

You have never said words of love to each other, never swore eternal feelings and promised nothing. You did not meet, did not touch each other, only with glances, only in whispers, only with short poems and songs.

— Never… — he whispers in response to your words, but the music interrupts him.…

And after that, Joost drops out of school, just leaves without even finishing his studies, he doesn't tell you a damn thing, just disappears after your long nights on the hood of his battered car, when you watched the stars with such love, each other…

You beg him to tell you why when he's packing his bags. You ask him to explain to you why when he buys train tickets. You whisper, «What about me?» When he just sighs softly and obediently turns away and goes deep into his house. You do not dare to follow him.

— And yet you left me… — you say, laughing softly, with irony, as lonely tears roll down your cheeks.

A few hours before his flight, you call him on the phone, ignoring the screaming music behind you, the laughter of people and… Joost knows perfectly well where you are, but only listens silently to your drunken pleas to come back, pick you up from this damn party, as he always did. Take you home and take care of you. Joost hangs up, you try again, you text him with loud sobs: — «Damn bastard, I love you!» — But it never reaches him, and a notification is displayed on your phone screen: «The contact blocked you.»

— And yet I left you. — Joost confirms your words. There's no need to lie, you both know everything.

The house opposite is now empty, you will no longer find any of the members of the little Klein family. And neither his friends nor classmates know where he is. After six months, you give up and stop looking for him…

— I was looking for you. — you're not lying, and, to tell the truth, all those five years that you were so far from each other, you kept looking for him. You kept looking until one day you came across a song with a familiar voice on the radio. You were ready to die to those damn lines: «Hearts on her shirt, kisses on her cheeks. Tears, behind which the eyes are not visible, she screamed after: You swore! And I blocked her contact with a bitter smile on my lips.»

— I'm sorry. — the only thing he says, and you don't know if he's really sorry, but you just nod. Tears are already streaming down your cheeks…

— I hate you. — your hands drop, and you finally open your eyes, which are glistening with tears, but still don't turn around.

— It's not true! — Joost exclaims almost resentfully in your ear and jerks you sharply.

In the five years that he was gone, you tried to live without him. You graduated from high school with honors and entered a prestigious university. You forbade yourself to listen to songs and all the art, it reminded you of only one person you've known for a long time.

Your tear-stained eyes express neither hatred nor contempt, only deep resentment when you meet the gaze of clear blue irises. Joost is still the same, although he is five years older. He's 26 now, and your age difference doesn't seem that surprising. Blond tousled hair, the same as before but shorter. Bright eyebrows, the same as eyelashes. He has grown a short beard and a small mustache above his plump lips, but it suits him. He smiles and… It's still the same smile. A smile you haven't seen in so long. And the smile you've been in love with for so long.

Joost suffered and tortured himself all these five years, but he knew that it was necessary, he knew that otherwise his dreams would not come true. Sacrifices were required, and unfortunately, on the way to his success, the first and biggest obstacle was you, and he decided that before it was too late, before things went too far, he needed to leave. But he loved you, loved you all these years, and you can't count the countless drafts and tracks that he wrote for you, but without releasing them in the hope that one day, when he returns, you will forgive him and listen to all these hundreds of tracks dedicated only to you with him. He had a lot of albums with your name on them.

— I don't want to see you anymore… — you mumble, your gaze slides down. You don't want to see his painted face anymore, he always hid behind the mask of his openness. But you knew how his heart could ache, how his hands could tremble, what his needy hugs could be. He needed you as much as you needed him, and yet…

Joost's eyes narrow, he shakes his head with a slight understanding smile on his lips, and then bends lower knowing that you will not pull away and whispers monotonously and hoarsely:

— Liar. — Joost concludes the verdict, crawling with his fingertips under your short top, wanting to feel you closer, wanting you…

— Which one of us is a liar here? — you laugh ironically and put your hand behind his head, tangling your fingers in his blond hair, they feel as soft as before and if you close your eyes you can probably believe that five years is not so much.

— Forgive me, honing(Honey)… — he does not dare to look into your eyes, even though you are looking for his gaze.

The crowd around you is pushing, jumping and shouting something loudly, the bright flashes of the spotlights hurt your eyes, make them water. You feel dizzy, your chest hurts, your legs can't hold you, and if it weren't for Joost's firm grip on your waist, you would have fallen. You wouldn't mind being trampled by a crowd. You wouldn't mind not seeing his face anymore, not feeling the air saturated with his scent…

And yet you can't take your eyes off his makeup, from his plump lips mutilated by a bitter smile. Even if he was regretting it wasn't that he left and left you. But he was definitely regretting for you.

— You know what, I won't forgive you, — you snort, biting your lip. Regret has long settled in your heart, and now, except for tears and aching pain, you can't seem to feel anything else.

— I know you hate me, — Joost freezes in front of your face, looks straight into your eyes, exhales hotly on your cracked, bleeding lips. — I know you love me. — he has an apologetic smile on his lips, but he doesn't regret anything when he touches your lips with a sweet kiss soaked in poison. You don't regret anything, biting his lips in return. The kiss is sour from the taste of blood, salty from the bitter tears rolling down your cheeks, and yet it's the only thing you want from each other.…

The sound of music is deafening, but your heart is beating much louder and your chest is constricted much more than from the touch of his lips. Joost pulls you to him, hugs you tightly, circles you, takes you out of the room. You know that tomorrow won't come. Joost's eyes are clear, clear, blue, almost transparent, so similar to the cloudless sky you looked at as a child. Behind the veil of tears, your eyes look like the cloudy sky that Joost looked at, holding back tears, at his father's funeral. And yet you whisper love to each other, and yet you beg not to leave.…

The loud, ear-piercing ringing of the alarm clock makes your heart skip a beat. You jump up clutching your aching head. The alcohol you drank yesterday makes itself felt and you slide back onto the soft pillow, smearing your bedroom with a blurry look. Fortunately, at least you are at home. A tired sigh leaves your lips and you jerk your head, a damn dream, a damn ghost with the face of your first love — Joost Klein. You roll over on your side and a single tear rolls down your cheek before you turn on your phone, open social media and notice hundreds of notifications. You're confused, your eyebrows furrow and you click on one of the links, looking closely at the photo with the caption: «Childhood friend of Joost Klein…»

In the photo, your eyes are glistening with alcohol, and your pupils are large and dark, your head is tilted back, a half-smile plays on your lips, and you look at the man in front of you in love, but his face is in shadow and you can hardly see anything. You feel awkward, even scared, confused. You straighten up, sit on the bed and zoom in on the image, noticing with a surprised «oh» traces of white paint on your face…

— Good morning, liefste(love). — a familiar hoarse, almost purring purring voice takes care of your ears, you freeze with your eyes wide open and turn to the door. There he stood at the threshold. Almost completely naked, with a rustic food tray in his hands and traces of remaining white makeup on his face. Joost Klein.

Your first and only love. Your first and last addiction. Your first and greatest pain.

— I brought us breakfast! — he laughs and talks as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't disappeared for five whole years and then returned without warning. You frown, the heart in your chest once again makes itself felt, but you shrug off the pain when you notice traces of pinkish kisses on Joost's face, neck, chest and arms. White paint and red lipstick mixed together. Joost grins, and you realize with surprise, but without any regrets, that the heart and the first kiss are now not the only thing that you gave him…

Don't post this anywhere without my permission!

I'm waiting for requests if there are any?

#joost klein #free joost #stand with joost #justice for joost #joost klein/reader #Joost Klein/fem!reader #europapa #eurovision #eurovision 2024 #joost x reader #joost fanart #Joost fanfik

[codenamesazanka]

Story really should've forced Aizawa and Mic to grapple with the fact that Kurogiri/Shirakumo seemed to have genuinely cared about Shigaraki Tomura. Not just 'oh, that's just Shirakumo's caring nature' and dismiss it as a general benevolence that was manipulated to babysit some kid, but really have them consider that Kurogiri/Shirakumo likely developed a special relationship with Shigaraki and that the well-being of the kid Kurogiri/Shirakumo watched over and nurtured for years mattered to him.

Like, Aizawa and Mic are teachers. They would understand feeling responsibility and care towards children - even if not their own, even if complete brats, even if they personally dislike a kid - feeling the duty to protect them and guide them toward adulthood. That's what Kurogiri/Shirakumo did as well - was given the job of guiding a spoiled 'knows nothing but the impulse to destroy' kid into someone more mature and thoughtful, a future leader.

But more than that - and albeit this is implied in canon and only shown in semi-canon things like the Ultra Impact game - Kurogiri/Shirakumo was partly raising Shigaraki. Making him meals, tending to his injuries, helping him train, etc. Also something Aizawa would understand well, since he's all but adopted Eri as his own. Aizawa started off only taking care of Eri as a charity case for UA, but before long, he was basically considering her like his own kid. Yeah, Kurogiri/Shirakumo's situation was much more complicated and shady than that, but you can't tell me he wouldn't have developed some real care towards his charge, especially since such a big deal was made of his Shirakumo core.

If Aizawa and Mic considered Kurogiri/Shirakumo still their friend - a ghost of one, and only partly there, but undeniably their friend - then they at least have to consider Kurogiri/Shirakumo's wants and needs as real in some way, even if they disagree or question them, and respect that. And if that includes real care for Shigaraki Tomura, to the point that Kurogiri's last act was making sure Shigaraki Tomura can be happy with his friends, Aizawa and Mic would've had to acknowledge Shigaraki as well. See what Kurogiri/Shirakumo sees in Shigaraki that's worth protecting. At the very least, they can't just help kill off the guy without hurting Kurogiri/Shirakumo.

But it feels that Shigaraki Tomura had to have stayed a unknowable, scary villain to everyone but Deku (and even Deku seemed to have considered Shigaraki and The Crying Child as separate entities for the most part). Rather, it's weird that a story about saving Villains ended up largely avoiding having anyone other than the designated Saving Hero consider a villain a person. Made sure that only one Hero can claim the majority of the effort and the victory. Essentially - did not consider Heroes having a collective responsibility toward the idea of saving in this aspect.

I think obviously, storytelling-wise, it's about chronicling the particular Hero's journey and development, celebrating their success, and it's more effective if the focus is centered on them. But theme-wise, in-universe-wise, imo, it ends up kinda saying that only one special Hero could've saved the Villain, and thank goodness that special Hero was there. Otherwise, no one would've helped. Otherwise, no one else - no other Hero, even - wanted to help. Which is bleak.

#nalslastworkingbraincell

[vegaseatsass]

Rewatched My Stand-In eps 2 and 3 tonight, and I'm definitely newly fascinated with Ming POV/Ming's internal concept of what was happening between him and Joe that entire time. I forgot just how much we got of Ming's home life and family in episode 2, and my brain is abuzz trying to connect all the dots. His relationship with May is so interesting. She clocks that he and Joe are together on Christmas, and is immediately careful to conceal it not just from their parents but from Tong. May and Ming have this "us against the world" vibe where they protect and cover for each other, going back to May giving herself pneumonia saving Ming from drowning. I absolutely believe there's more going on in their family than mom pressuring Ming to marry women any time he goes home - I actually suspect things about his family are being obscured for future painful reveals - but May is a safe space for him. Until Tong is added into the picture, and Ming has to flee the country for four years to get away from his big feelings. It's just kind of bonkers to me that he had this intense, safe and presumably very grounding relationship with his sister, but made his obsession with a random movie star the centerpiece of his world instead. Why did he imprint on Tong? Is it really just Joe's sexy back muscles that drew him in? Did he think if he could land a famous movie star his parents would accept him being with a man? Was it subconscious self-sabotage of his only safe relationship lol? I genuinely have no idea!! What I am stuck on though is when he told May he was working through something, and would tell her when he was ready, but he promised he'd get through it. On rewatch, it seems very obvious that what he's talking about is the torch he's carrying for Tong, so to me that's a reveal that he's deliberately trying to move on with Joe - not using him as a sex doll replacement, but throwing himself into something real. (What's messy obviously is that Ming started this for the proxyfucking, but I think overhearing Joe confess his love for Ming to Sol is when Ming started making a determined effort to choose Joe.) There's also his reaction to Joe's Christmas gift where the watch becomes a metaphor for Joe himself (vs. Tong): Ming doesn't need the "top" one, why can't he want the "normal" one?

The first time I was watching this, I assumed that Ming just has no internal awareness of how important Joe is to him, he just feels pure need and acts very very normal when his emotional support stand-in is ripped away. I assumed Ming believes he's in love with Tong and thinks he's just passing some time with Joe. It doesn't help that every time Joe presses him on anything emotional Ming shuts him down or outright negs him lolllll

But like for example, in the scene where they're shopping together and Joe gets excited about the couple mugs, first Ming snaps "What makes you think we're a couple?", then he tries to mitigate his slip by playing it off: "after living with me, you'll realize you don't want me as a boyfriend." His kneejerk impulse to shut Joe down and say cruel things is imo a defense mechanism, a really maladaptive one that helps convince Joe later on that there was never any love there, but I'm starting to think it's triggered in response to actually wanting the intimacy and primacy that Joe is pushing for, and being terrified of that.

It would make so much sense for somebody who is terrified of needing anybody else, of being vulnerable or feeling anything real, to decide they're in love with a complete asshole movie star who uses their family for money and them personally for favors, and shape their life around that. Especially now that I understand how young Ming was when he first fixated on Tong (17ish??), I just feel like that entire imprinting is your classic teenager-who-is-not-ready-to-be-in-a-real-relationship parasocial spiral. I used to do it with male celebrities too!!! (I am a lesbian. lmfaooo)

It's interesting because while there's something conceptually romantic about the back Ming first got obsessed with being Joe's all along, it ultimately doesn't really matter to me WHO the onscreen person that he fixated upon was. What matters is how ill-equipped Ming has proven to handle real feelings for a real person in front of him, and the journey he has from here to learn how to human. I can't wait. P.S. Other thing I forgot happened in episode 2: - Ming made drunk!Joe sleep on the floor of Joe's own home - BEFORE Ming moved in or had any claim to the space - AFTER Ming told Sol he would take "really really good care of Joe" as a way of trying to claim Joe in front of the competition His journey to human is going to be a loooooooooooooooooong one, methinks... 😈

#this post is huge but i am also fascinated by tong and his possessiveness over joe as his stand-in #and manipulation of everyone around him #and expectation that joe is with ming for the same reason tong would be with ming #(the reason tong is with may): #opportunism #it also makes me wonder what tong's like with may and if he CAN act for more than 5 minutes at a time when motivated #but he really brings out ming's worst and it's soooooooo interesting that ming is afraid for TONG to know what he has with joe #(and that tong does immediately try to use that. IMMEDIATELY) #my stand in #dear diary #mingjoe

[blue-lollipops-and-ice-clouds]

Sleep Token's "The 100 Songs That Changed Our World" Article.

(Source - photos courtesy the lovely jawsofeden)

Transcript:

100 - Sleep Token

The Summoning

(Take Me Back To Eden, 2023)

The meteoric rise of Sleep Token caught us all by surprise. At the start of 2023, the mysterious masked band were one of the metal underground's buzziest names. Led by enigmatic vocalist Vessel, they were a band to watch, for sure, but firmly attracted the niche passion of a cult following.

Then came the song that would change everything. On consecutive days in early January, the band released two singles from their third album, Take Me Back To Eden: the burning, crashing Chokehold, followed by The Summoning - and it was the latter track that would turn them into an Earth-conquering, expectation-shattering phenomenon.

Veering between depraved tech metal, soulful vocals and shimmering electronics, an enormous, hymnal chorus gave way to an Earth-shifting breakdown and screams. Intricate and groove heavy, The Surmoning was more like three songs seamlessly crafted into one genre-fluid modern masterpiece. And it still had its trump card to play: a bendy, thirst-trap, funk outro that went viral on TikTok, turning the internet intoalusty Take1 puddle. Suddenly, Sleep Token were the most talked-about band on the planet.

"THERE ARE HINTS OF EARLY SLIPKNOT THERE."

COREY TAYLOR

"It took me three listens of [The Sumroning] to realise that when they do that whole psychedelic section at the end, that it's actually the same chorus as it was before, only in a completely different way," Evanescence's Amy Lee told Revolver. "And I love it even more that. I thought they just went a whole new direction and wrote a new part, and then I was like, 'Wait, that's the same...but not at all'."

Sleep Token weren't the most obvious choice for a commercial breakthrough. The success of The Summoning, an unconventional, seven-minute, brutal shapeshifter, bucks just about every music industry trend there is.

"It's going to a lot of different places, and I think there isn't any other band out there right now that's able to do that," Judas Priest frontman Rob Halford said earlier this year.

The Summoning set a chain reaction in motion that was unprecedented in modern metal. In just a few weeks, the band saw their Spotify figures jump from the thousands into the millions. To date, the track has been streamed more than 123 million times on Spotify and 19 million on YouTube. On release, Take Me Back To Eden went straight in at No.3 in the UK and was the most streamed metal album of 2023. When the band announced a show at Wembley Arena, tickets sold out in 10 minutes.

Earlier this year, they left the metal-heavy roster of Spinefarm Records for RCA, the home of mainstream megastars Justin Timberlake and rapper Doja Cat.

"In heavy music, or even in just rock, even in the last decade or 15 years, there's so few stories of bands ever breaking through," says Health bassist and producer, John Famiglietti, who supported the band at Wembley and sees Sleep Token's success as proof metal still can resonate on a massive scale. "This is one of the few times I've seen a band go from a fucking club to an arena in six months. And I don't know the last time that happened."

It's worth pointing out that in the social media era where celebrities and artists are more accessible than ever, Sleep Token have achieved all of this on their own terms. To date, they've barely done any press, while their masked mystique is all part of the allure. Last year, fans reacted with outrage when bassist III's identity and birth certificate were allegedly leaked online, seemingly leading to a decision to wipe the band's Instagram.

"There are hints of early Slipknot there," Knot vocalist Corey Taylor told The Allison Hagendorf Show in 2023, thinking back to the early internet days before Slipknot removed their masks. "At first, we were like, 'Nope. You get nothing. This is what you get, you figure it out. We'll let the music speak for ourselves.

Today, Sleep Token are being mentioned in the same breath as potential future Download headliners Ghost, Gojira, and Architects. The only difference? Sleep Token have managed to ascend to the same level as those bands in a fraction of the time. Metal needs new superstars who will push things forward, innovate and keep the scene relevant - and with Sleep Token we have a band we can believe in. DL

#sleep token #sleep token article #metal hammer 388

[wabatle]

☆~Fluff Letters B, C, E, J with Reo Mikage

wabatle nonsense:

my first fluff alphabet post and ofc it's Reo

ughghghhh i love him so much send help...

also if u want the whole alphabet link is in my pinned (wink wink)

warnings: none~

☆~B - Birthday - How do they treat their s/o on their birthday? How do they want to be treated?

Reo will absolutely spoil you for the entire day, no matter what. He will take you out to an incredibly expensive store and tell you to pick out anything and everything that you want, and he'll buy it for you. Not to mention his own shopping he's doing for you while you're wandering around, he's picking out expensive jewelry he thinks you'll like. If you try to pull a, “I can't accept this, it's just too much,” he'll tell you that it's your special day and you deserve to be spoiled. …And if he really has to, he'll guilt trip you into letting him buy it. Also will take you out for a 8 course meal to celebrate

On his birthday, Reo doesn't expect anything from you, other than your love and attention throughout the day. He doesn't care where you go, he just wants you to be with him. Bonus points if you bake him (from scratch) a cake.

☆~C - Cuddles - How do they like to cuddle?

He's on top of you…

I'd like to think that when he's really tired his cuddles can get a little suffocating, but overall he'd be really sweet

Always would let you be the little spoon

He also would likely lay on your chest and have you play with his hair because he likes it so much

Your cuddles together are just always a never ending hug

☆~E - Emotions - How emotional can they be in your relationship?

Reo is hopelessly in love, so most of his feelings regarding you are very genuine and sometimes even aggressive

With that being said, if you were ever upset about something, he would try to cheer you up by making you laugh or giving you an unending string of compliments

If you're crying, he'll hold your head to his chest and quietly shush you, but if you get a chance to look at his face he could potentially be holding back tears because he just can't bear to see you cry

If someone is talking bad about you, he'll suppress the urge to punch them and instead start a yelling argument

☆~J - Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily?

Oh, yes, 100% yes.

If someone was flirting with you he would get super overprotective and defend you

And if he sees you talking to someone else (specifically a different boy) even if you were just asking for notes or something, he'll just be looking at you from afar with a pout forming on his lips

Nagi will have to draw his attention away from you because even though he might seem just mad, his head is also swirling with insecurities. Like “what if they like this person more than me?”

#reo mikage #reo mikage x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #wabatle writes #fluff alphabet #wabatle's alphabets

[strawbrygashez]

Caldre YURI hcs!!!

These r some hcs for yuri/girl versions of cal & andre,,. I’ll call Andre, Avery and Cal, Callie :)

I’ll start of with some gereral hcs of them both

Avery

•This girl is the perfect example of the tall, awkward, and autistic lesbian trope.

•She dresses basically the same as Andre does. She never really does anything fancy with her hair besides a quick pony tail or letting Callie braid it. She doesn’t wear makeup either because she doesn’t care for it on herself and she just thinks it takes too long. Her mom bugs the crap out of her sometimes asking her to try wearing more ‘feminine’ clothing. Like her mom will buy her a sundress or something even tho she should know that Avery is just gonna toss it somewhere in her closet to never be seen again or give it away to Callie.

•Speaking of makeup, I feel like Avery would have acne like Andre. And she gets picked on for it but as I said, she still doesn’t try makeup to cover it up. Especially probably because her skin is already sensitive enough as it is. So she just rolls with it. (Not saying the bullying doesn’t get to her tho)

•She has soooo many band posters around her room of female bands/singers like Hole, Kittie, Garbage, Otep, No Doubt, Evanescence, Jack Off Jill,& L7 for example.

•Doesn’t deny that she’s gay to herself as much as Andre does. Shes known she’s hated guys for as long as she can remember. She thinks they are just loud, dumb, annoying, and gross. She tried going out with a guy once in like middle school, and it only lasted about half a month. She was too uncomfortable with him & doing things like holding hands.

•has a ‘resting bitch face’ all the time. The only time she doesn’t look ready to rip someone’s head off is when Callie is talking to her.

•She’d be a riot grrrl. If you’ve seen the documentary ‘Dirty Girls’ she reminds me a lot of it.

Even tho I think she’s a total feminist, she’s kinda contradicts herself often. Like when she argues with Callie, she’ll tell her to go fuck off and join the braindead, blonde sluts on the cheerleading team :/ And she just makes fun of popular girls in general, even the ones who are nice because she’s insecure about herself. If a pretty popular girl who’s never said anything mean to her started to talk to her, she’d be blushing and anxious tho.. she’s just a big ol’ mess.

•Steals magazines that are like full of chicks in swim suits. She hides them under her bed. Her mom accidentally found one once and later that night, Avery took all of the ones she owned and burnt them all in a small fire outside💀 she restarted her collection tho at some point when the embarrassment died down.

•Even tho her mom goes on and jokes about her finding a nice boyfriend, it’s pretty obvious to everyone she’s a lesbian. Her room doesn’t help, the magazine she had, the way she never seems interested in male celebrities and actors, the way she ignores guys, it just all adds up.

Callie

•Avery calls her Barbie because of the blonde hair and thin body. But she also goes by Cal :)

•You can really tell how artsy she is by the way she dresses. I guess the best way to describe it is like grunge fairy core. Lots of lacy things, light greens and browns, flowy skirts, lots of jewelry, and etc. She also draws on her hands a lot in permanent marker. She’ll draw ‘tattoos’ on Avery too if she asks.

•I feel like female Cal would be pretty popular? But not like, popular popular. Just like loser/weird girl popular because she’s so pretty. Like I’m sure annoying guys try to get with her but she always comes across not interested at all. She’s happy with just Avery and Rachel.

•Just like canon Cal, everyone thinks she’s super innocent and can’t do any wrong because of the way she looks. But she’s just like canon Cal. Manic episodes, depression, and all. She hides it even better than canon Cal does because yknow, no one expects such an innocent, sweet looking girl to hold the kinda thoughts she does at all.

• Cuts and has body issues.

•Loves when Avery lets her give her makeovers. Not because she thinks she needs it at all, and she will tell her that, but because she just likes putting together outfits and looks! She paints her nails sometimes too so they match :)

•I think if she wasn’t so depressed to where she saw no future for herself, she’d maybe look into a job that has to do with fashion or writing. Something artsy.

YURI CALDRE TIME :)

•They both find each other so beautiful and interesting. Callie feels so safe and truly seen with Avery and Avery is so greatful for Callie because she was so lonely before.

•Initially, I think Avery was a bit intimated by Callie though because all she knew was she was really pretty and blonde so she was like ‘ugh. Another cheerleader 🙄’ in her mind but when Callie actually spoke to her, and Avery found out she’s really cool and they relate a lot, she kinda fell head over heels quickly.

•They both HATE Brad because he makes jokes about how they should kiss in front of him because it would be hot 😐 Or how Callie or Avery should stop hanging out with each other and hang out with him instead. Hes a total douchebag.

•Callie honestly has no doubt Avery is into girls because of multiple reasons but she won’t say anything really about it. When she does want to drop hints that she’s into chicks too, she’ll say stuff about how a girl lead singer is hot. Avery is kinda clueless tho so she’ll just be like “oh haha. Yeah I guess anyone would find that singer hot” to herself. Smh. They’ll even joke argue one time about who would get to be Courtney Loves groupie if she said only one of them could be and it will just go over Averies head.

•Callie has caught Avery looking at her putting on lipstick a bit too intensely once or twice. She thinks it’s cute :) I think once maybe she’s even kissed her cheek so it would leave a kiss mark. Avery of course got all red and said it was gross and how she had to go wash it off now and blah blah blah but probably had to actually fight for her hand to move to wash it off in the sink later.. cuz she saw herself in the mirror and went 😳

•They also joke around by pretending to be guys who are flirting with them with each other. Like Callie will put her arm around Avery in the car while they are parked somewhere and will try to copy Brads voice and say “Hey baby. It’s just me and you now. Am I gonna get lucky tonight?” They both find it amusing to laugh over guys.

•Avery uses cheap shots when they are play fighting. She punches Callie in the b00b because she’s flat anyways. Callie threatens to use her long nails to scratch out Averie’s eyeballs.

•Avery sent Callie the music video to All the things she said by TATU once but thought Callie didn’t get the point of sending it.. because Callie didn’t say anything about how it was gay 😔 she just said it was a nice song.

Also Avery cries to that song a lot.

•They would have been less pathetic than Cal & Andre and would have actually fr kissed before they did what they did.

•Callie loves listening to Avery rant. Especially about how she hates everyone and how unfair life is lol.

•Callie steals Averie’s band shirts. It first started at a sleepover where Callie’s shirt got ruined so Avery offered her a Kittie one. Once Avery saw her and how she looks exactly like a girlfriend a rockstar guy would have, she knew she was even more done for.

•I think if Callie thought Avery had a specific type, based off the pictures she has up on her wall of women and whatnot, she’d lowkey try to make herself look a little more like that type. Like if she thought Avery likes gothy looking makeup and clothes, she’d try more looks like that. She wouldn’t totally change her style but she’d play around with stuff that she thinks Avery would like.

•If they got together, I think Avery would open up more about how she feels ugly or uncomfortable with how she looks. It breaks Callie’s heart even though she could already tell Avery was not very confident in herself sometimes. she’ll go on about how Avery is absolutely gorgeous to her and she’d share how she has her own body issues too and Avery would be like “??? What? What the fuck? You’re literally perfect. What are you talking about.” And Callie would tell her she feels exactly the same when she hears Avery say that kinda stuff about herself.

•Avery definitely thinks Rachel is out to steal Callie from her. She knows Callie could easily fit in with the ‘normal’ crowd if she wanted with Rachel so she’s always worried she’ll get persuaded into leaving Avery behind. It takes a good amount of deep conversations before Avery can calm down about it and believe Callie won’t leave her.

#zero day #caldre #cal gabriel #andre kriegman #yay yuri

[melanieph321]

Hi lovely,

I’m actually kind of new to Tumblr so I don’t know how this works but you were actually one of the first bloggers that popped up on my feed with your post about Kenan Yildiz 😭and I really enjoyed reading it so much. And then I clicked on your feed and noticed that you take request I don’t know if you do that anymore but I wanted to give it a try. I was thinking that maybe the reader and Kenan are dating but keeping it private since she’s the sister of one of his best friends on the team (maybe Vlahović) So when Juventus celebrated their win ,against another club, they went to a restaurant to celebrate and the waiter was constantly hitting on the reader which made Kenan very jealous so he made sure the waiter knows who you belong with(maybe giving the reader a hickey) and he made sure that the waiter saw how Kenan followed you to the bathroom.

I don’t know if that makes sense to you but anyways just wanted to get that of my chest 💕🎀

Love this! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🔥🔥🔥🔥

Kenan Yildiz x Reader - Claim Me Part 1/3

Enjoy!

"I have to go."

"What, no. Five more minutes."

"Kenan." You chuckled. The hardest part was always to get him off of you. After Juventus successful Copa Italia win against Atalanta, it was practically impossible. Kenan had you escaping yesterdays celebrations by sneaking back to his hotel room. There you did unspeakable things to each other. Fun. But unspeakable things.

"Fuck, you're so hot." He mumbled and planted soft kisses against your neck.

"Thank you." You giggled and did not reject the way he wanted to keep you in bed with him. However, there was just one small problem...

"I have to get back to my room before my family notices that I'm gone."

"Relax, I saw your sister dancing on top of a table before we left the club last night. I'm sure she'll still be passed out drunk by the time you get back."

"Yes, my sister perhaps, but my brother won't be."

Kenan raised his head from the crook of your neck. The mentioning of Dusan always set him off, especially if you mentioned him in a moment of intimacy, which has happened more than once before.

"He'll be the first one to look for me." You nodded.

Kenan sighed and rolled onto his back, letting you go.

"Thank you." You bent down to kiss his lips before rushing to the bathroom. However, you did not remain in there for long.

"Fuck!"

You were quick to stumbled back into the room, a hand covering your throat and a struck of panic in your eyes.

"What?" Kenan asked, seeing the expression on your face.

"I hate you."

"What did I do?"

"Kenan, you didn't."

"I didn't do what?" He said, rightfully confused.

You released the hand covering your throat, revealing a hickey the size of a coin.

"Fuck."

"Yes, fuck you." You sprung towards the bed, ambushing your boyfriend with harmless punches to the sheets.

"Baby." He chuckled. "I'm really sorry, okay."

"Sorry? Sorry won't cut it Kenan, Dusan will kill me if he sees it."

Kenan caught your hands, preventing you from throwing any more punches. "You mean me." He said. "I'm pretty sure I'll be the first one your brother would want to kill."

"Think again. He doesn't even know that we're seeing each other Kenan,  I'm the one he's gonna kill."

"Well, maybe it's time we tell him that we're together then?"

You paused, eyes searching your boyfriend's face. He had soft features. Trying to cover them up with a cut to his eyebrow only made him look more like a puppy dog. "You're out of your mind." You said and climbed off of him.

"Right. I'm out of my mind for wanting to be able to hold my girlfriends hand in public, or better yet, kiss her in public."

"Yes, Kenan. You're out of your mind for that. I've told you that my brother won't allow it."

"Well, maybe it's time you stick up to your brother then? Or perhaps our relationship is not worth the hassle?"

It's not that easy, you thought.

Despite what Kenan thought, it was not that easy. You had always been the baby of the family, the youngest three. Your oldest brother Dusan always watched over you like a hawk. But as you grew older, you began to feel suffocated by his constant protection. You longed for the freedom to make your own decisions and live your own life. But that wasn't the case right now.

"I'm back!" You announced, after receiving about a dusin text message from Dusan on your way up the hotel elevator. You had just shut the door behind you when his head popped out from the bathroom.

"Where have you been?" He asked. Getting up before seven AM after a night of celebrations was mental. But that's just who your brother was, a control freak in all things.

"I was just out for a run." You said.

"Wearing heels?"

He shot a glance at the pair that you were holding in your hands.

"Yes, Dusan. In my heels. It's a trend, look it up."

He shook his head but did not question you further. "Remember, be ready for lunch with the team this afternoon."

"Right." You crossed the joint living area on your way to your bedroom.

"I mean it, Y/N. Remind Nina to be ready on time as well."

"Yeah, yeah. I will."

You shut the door behind you and were quick to peel down the laces to your dress, stepping out of it. You left it on the floor,  amongst the other scattered clothes in the dungeon that you and your sister had been sharing for the weekend. She lay fast asleep as you joined her under the covers. Sometimes, you wondered how the two of you turned out so chill while Dusan got the off gene. I guess you'd never find out.

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst #kenan yildiz #dusan vlahovic #kenan yildiz x reader #juventus fc