#you're sobbing at a bridge because someone knows who you are and someone knows the scars of your past and still gets angry and sad for you.
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oh there's something particularly painful about my mister in that dong hoon tells ji an that as long as no one knows, it's no big deal, and there's something particularly painful about how ji an tells dong hoon that sometimes, i want [my secret] to play out on big screens for everyone to see, and there's something particularly painful about how the second dong hoon meets the loan shark tormenting ji an, he starts screaming and yelling about how she's just a kid, how could you do that to a kid, and there's something particularly painful about how dong hoon doesn't even let ji an know he did that, but ji an knows. she knows because she was listening in the entire time and she just starts crying because someone actually knows this ugly, sad part of her and still took her side, and something particularly painful about how my mister started with as long as no one knows, it's no big deal but really concludes with there is so much risk in having someone know who you are but there's also so much comfort and peace to be found in that, too and maybe you shouldn't isolate yourself and maybe you should reach for that kind of comfort in being known and loved anyways
#caroline talks#my mister#if this is incoherent. it should be#rewatched the first 2.5 episodes of my mister last night#felt like crying my eyes out the entire time tbh!!#every time i watch this show there's just something about it that hurts me more and more and there's something that makes the messages#in this show feel more and more relevant#idk. thinking a lot about when ji an talks about how sometimes she wishes. sometimes she wishes#that everyone knew what she'd done and what had been done to her.#something about how ji an can't ever bring herself to connect truly with another person because of how much she hates#the feeling of people realizing what her past looks like#and not wanting to withstand the pity and also horror. like. okay.#something about ji an sobbing by the bridge when she listens to dong hoon pummeling that loan shark guy#and how i used to always cry at that scene but now i tear up just thinking about it#because you know! there's that shock (that firstly: someone knows your miserable secret. and secondly: they're still on your side)#and then absolute heartache because you don't know what to do with that information. you didn't expect it.#you're sobbing at a bridge because someone knows who you are and someone knows the scars of your past and still gets angry and sad for you.#and you still feel like you don't deserve it because you know deep down you are not a very good person (or so you tell yourself).#and. oughough. lee ji an holds such a place in my miserable little heart
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i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you (and i)
summary: dating tip? just don't. for celebrities, romantic relationships are absolutely forbidden. the slightest hint of one could ruin your career. but are you even listening to the lecture? doubt it, 'cause you're doing the complete opposite. (alternatively, a celebrity au featuring secret relationships.)
→ featuring: childe, & ayato (you can really tell who my faves are)
→ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight cursing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, tension, actual cursing, unreliable reader pov, gender-neutral reader (i apologize if i missed things, i haven't proofread it yet)
→ a/n: so, hi! long time no see? i was pretty stressed with college and well, i'm back! i began writing this last year and finally got the courage to finish it. but here it is and i hope you enjoy it :> please let me know if you like it <3 it really makes my day!
credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts!
beware, lengthy post ahead!
more under the cut!
the debut.
“forbidden?” you repeat.
“absolutely forbidden!” your manager says. “a rookie with no fanbase? a scandal will ruin your reputation! you're absolutely forbidden from dating anyone.”
you sigh. he's being too overdramatic.
you will never be in a relationship, you're absolutely sure. how can you? with no time for yourself as it is, dating someone with the limited hours you already have sounds impractical.
besides, you're too busy training and practicing for auditions.
remembering it now, you want to laugh.
i told you so, your thoughts chastise.
god, you should've listened.
childe, the actor
“that's a wrap!” the director cheers.
your eyes glisten as you hold back tears. it's embarrassing, you think. so damn embarrassing.
you've been repeating the same kissing scene multiple times now. obviously, the director cheers for finally completing the take and not because you did a good job.
childe pats your back. “you did great,” he says, with a smile.
but you know the gesture so goddamn well. the same nonchalant cold grin he throws at everyone that he now directs at you? oh, he's angry alright.
for what reason? who knows. you're too busy wallowing in self-despair over how terrible your acting is.
the scene is supposedly simple. it involves the second lead, who happens to be you, confessing their love to the leading man, resulting to a spontaneous kiss.
yet, you're fumbling over the lines, acting so out of character, tripping over set, incorrectly initiating the kiss at awkward angles—the whole time-wasting squander.
“what's going on?” childe eventually asks, once he arrives at your shared apartment. his bag drops to the floor with a flop. “you're acting strange. the entire crew sees it, i see it, the director sees it—what if he decides to fire you? what will you do then?”
you swallow dryly. you left the set early hoping childe's hectic schedule prompted him to forget the whole issue. yet, here he is finally bringing up the conversation after what feels like a month's worth of tension.
as you sit on the sofa chair, your fingers massage the bridge of your nose. breathe in, breathe out. you repeat. don't cry. you try to calm yourself down as a sob tries to break through.
eight months, you've been a couple.
but, there are some things you're afraid to say.
each year, the biggest tabloid newspaper in the country releases an article on celebrity dating scandals. a month ago they released one single page article about a popular actor dating a newbie actress. it barely had any juicy details, just a simple paragraph of a somebody dating a nobody.
yet, it did not end well for them. and you're terrified; for when it could happen to you.
you imagine it. dozens of messages and multiple missed phone calls on your cell as your name becomes the next talk of the town. the headline reads: revealed! a nobody actress, the second-lead from the northland bank saga currently dates the nation's boyfriend, childe!
it terrifies you. you could lose your job. lose what you love doing the most. and you could get tossed aside like an old sweater under someone's bed, left to rot and decompose.
so, yes. you hesitated earlier at set because you don't want anyone to connect the dots. to look at the kiss between you two and notice something amiss. to speculate that there's more to your relationship than what meets the eye. to realize you look at him as more than a co-star. to see how much you're in love with him. to realize the both of you are dating.
“it's not easy.” you say, releasing a sigh.
two years you've been in the business. rookies barely get any roles as it is. being in a well-received rendition of an old romance drama is a once in a blue moon opportunity and you can't risk someone finding out about your relationship.
“camera shy? no—you've kissed heaps of actors for that school drama.”
you mumble, “two people aren't heaps of actors, tartaglia.”
“then what is the problem?”
childe saunters to where you sit. he leans towards you and presses his palm on the head of the sofa, trapping your body between his and the chair. childe's eyes meet yours and you instantly look away.
he knows you well enough to comprehend that look on your face. the way you hide your clammy hands behind you, the manner of your eyes staring only at your feet, how your body tucks itself into the corner of the seat.
“me?” childe whispers.
he places a hand under your jaw. his thumb softly pushes your chin upwards so your eyes meet his.
“why?” he pleads.
“you won't understand.”
“i will if you tell me,” he says, holding your gaze. seeing how you relentlessly persist on keeping your mouth shut, he shakes his head. “oh, please tell me.”
you hesitate. you tell him and then what?
you could say: hey, childe! i'm afraid of our relationship being discovered. i'll be hated by your fans. you'll be constantly drained by my crying and whining. your reputation would take a hit regardless of how popular you are and—and then he'll finally realize how exhausting and annoying it is being with you.
your self-deprecation loves to pull you deeper into its sapping embrace. you're nothing, it mouths. childe would dump you and find some other actor or actress to date. god. it would be so easy. with his popularity, good looks, and charming personality, he'd find a better and talented rising-star the moment he chucks you out the front door.
so, you shake your head firmly.
“tell me, please.” he whispers.
you cross your arms, and look away.
“are you sick?”
you shake your head.
“somebody hurting you on set?”
again, you shake your head.
childe pauses, “...do you have feelings for someone else?”
“no!”
“then what is the damn problem?”
“nothing!” you exasperate, furrowing your brows together.
childe takes your reluctance as distrust and it ignites his irritation. do you not trust him? is he that insignificant to you? what are you hiding? hell, did you fall for the main lead of the show, zhongli? or do you not love him anymore? god, he can feel himself suffocate in resentment.
is he so unimportant that you'd prefer to keep the problem to yourself? it makes his blood boil; how he'd do anything for you, but you'd rather keep it to yourself and suffer alone.
“tell me.” childe scowls as he watches your lips quiver.
you keep your mouth firmly shut.
“fine, hold your tongue.” he sneers, “i understand. i really do, baby. it's not about the cameras, the flashing lights, the audience.”
childe brushes his lips against yours, “you wouldn’t kiss me like that in public, though, would you?” he releases his hold on your chin and his sharp eyes meet yours. “it’s only behind closed doors when you care to act like we’re each other’s.”
with a hooded jacket in one hand and a face mask in another, childe swiftly leaves the apartment with a slam of a door.
leaving you alone with your wretched thoughts.
more under the cut!
despite walking out the flat hours ago, childe still reverberates jealousy and anger; pure envy at how normal you act around everyone else yet, around him you're too guarded; and angry at himself for saying those awful words to your face.
he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. childe acknowledges how childish he's been acting. you aren't ready to talk, and he shouldn't be forcing you to speak out your difficulties.
surely, the stress is piling up on you. he knows the hours you've been working on set, memorizing lines, practicing moves—again, he thumps his head on the wheel.
stupid, he curses. control your damn temper next time.
he reaches for the box of blueberry cheesecake on the front passenger seat. subconsciously, he drove two hours (and back) to the bakery's main branch as its side branches were sold out of your favorite cake. and he knows how much you love the pastry.
however, his body slouches in the parked car outside the apartment. the long drive works miracles with his anger, but the courage to actually walk inside and apologize never comes.
the ding of a text draws his attention. ‘go inside and beg for forgiveness, brat.’ yoimiya, a fellow actress from the same company as him, says. the woman is always in the loop and well-informed.
a shiver goes down his spine. if you told yoimiya about the argument, he's absolutely sure you're furious. you'd only speak to her as a last-ditch effort; knowing her personality she'd pummel him to bits while you watch.
as a result, he stands inside the apartment, one hand knocking on your bedroom door. however, instead of tasting blood, he hears your stifled sobs. the abrupt sound convinces him to turn the knob and enter the room.
the illumination from the hallway brightens the bedroom, shining a bit of light on your face. you lay on the bed with your knees to your chest, with a blanket over your waist. your reddened cheeks and tear-stained eyes makes his stomach churn.
“please don't cry, baby.” childe cooes, kneeling by your bedside. he leans over you, his fingers gently grip your cheeks. “i'm so sorry.”
the sudden apology sprouts pools from your eyes. his thumbs brush the water off your face and softly says, “i shouldn't have said—please, don't cry. it's my fault for taking my anger out on you.”
“i'm afraid of losing you,” you whimper. “if they find out—oh god—they'll tear me apart. i'm nothing compared to you. i'd lose everything. i might even lose you—”
“never, i will never leave you. no matter what happens,” childe interjects.
you furrow your brows, sobbing. “i'm no one—too difficult,” you hiccup. “you'll throw me away. i'm too whiny and too draining. if they find out... you'll see all the comments about how ugly—”
“breathe, baby.” he settles himself on your bed and softly places you on his lap. “you're gorgeous. you're not draining, and frankly, you're cute when you whine.”
you bury your face into his neck and continue, “i'm serious, childe. you'll get exhausted. the articles will talk about you too!”
“articles, mhm. they're just articles.” he hums.
irritation begins to set in. was he this clueless? you release another sob, “they're not just articles. they'll nitpick every single thing you do! oh—look at this newbie getting together with childe. oh, they suck at acting! why is childe even—”
childe gently places his palm on your neck, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “are you talking about the tabloid from last month?”
you sigh, “what else am i talking about?” and instantly you sense his laughter resonate. “are you laughing?”
“you're adorable, baby.” he breathes, nuzzling his face on your neck.
“you're making fun of me! what the hell, childe?”
he releases a sigh, pausing his laughter. “the tabloids every month. they're paid. companies pay them to talk about their idols for publicity.”
your face contorts into confusion, “who would willingly—they talked about lumine all month because of the article! you know she's my favorite actress. why would they willingly put her on the spotlight like that?”
“publicity, baby.”
you shake your head, “it makes no sense.”
“oh, it does.” childe hums. “of course, they'd seek permission first. it boosted views for her drama, didn't it? lumine did say she got extra for the views and switched apartments.”
“yeah, wait—you knew this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?”
he chuckles, “that's what you get for keeping these things to yourself for a month.” he squeezes the bridge of your nose.
“you're terrible.”
“love you too, baby.” he teases, “and besides, if a tabloid threatened to do something—” his thumb gently traces the skin around your neck. “—i'll keep you safe.”
a soft smile graces your features. “...i'm just not ready for anyone to find out. yet, anyway.”
childe hums, “we'll do it on your terms, okay? whenever you're ready.”
“sure, i guess you can keep me for a while longer. until you throw me away and find the next rookie to—”
childe's soft laughter sparks a flutter in your stomach. he would never do such a thing. the moment he first laid his eyes on you on set, heard your beautiful laugh between takes, listened to your jokes while practicing lines, and god, seen your angelic smile? the things he would do to keep you as his.
“never.” a cheeky grin appears on his lips, “i'll take care of you.”
bonus: five years later
your phone rings. the vibration continues on and off, signaling multiple inbox messages. you swipe your phone to see texts from several of your close friends.
‘i know you told me you were okay with it, but i didn't think he'd try to do it so soon. i tried but he's too hardheaded.’ says yoimiya.
‘congratulations! when's the wedding? i'm kidding. don't kill childe.’ says thoma, an actor from your same company.
‘sorrows, sorrows, prayers.’ says venti, your current co-star.
you even receive a message from childe himself.
‘good morning, baby. i'm completely fault-free. simply honoring your wishes as a devoted fiancé should.’
attached to a message was a link to a video entitled: please don't kill me honey.
you click the link.
the video's blurry, as if taken by a cellphone. you recognize thoma as the person videoing the whole scene, as he turns the camera to face him before focusing it on a woman—seemingly a fan of childe. she wears merch from his most recent drama.
a fan goes on stage chosen by a random lottery draw. the said fan wins the chance to interview childe, who was the guest of the day for talk show, and ask one question.
the girl hastily walks on stage, holding a microphone given by staff.
“um. hello, childe!”
the audience screams as the huge video screen focuses on your lover's face. he waves a quick ‘hello’ and the crowd yells louder.
the girl hesitates, “are you dating anyone right now?”
childe twists the microphone in his hands. “hm? right now... i'm not dating anyone.”
the crows sighs in relief, utterly happy their favorite leading actor continues to be single.
but you see the outline of a smirk flashing on his face, and you instantly know there's a deeper meaning to that sentence. “but, it's difficult to say... since we're not really dating as of the moment.”
quietly, you hear the voice of yoimiya whispering, “don't do it.” the camera now focusing on her, trying to get herself on stage. thoma flips the camera around to face it on himself, waving a hello, apparently enjoying the drama. he then focuses the camera on the wide screen, featuring childe's face.
to add mayhem into the mix, childe continues, “i don't think being engaged to your partner falls under dating. we're way past that.”
the interview ends with the audience screaming their lungs out in disbelief, while childe's laugh resonates the whole auditorium.
ayato, company director
“oh, them?” ayato's steady gaze meet yours, pressing his lips in a tight-lipped smile. “they're a friend of mine.”
friend. it echoes in your mind, repeating incessantly. friend. friend. friend.
dread creeps into the pit of your stomach akin to a quick flick of a lighter. after all this time, your stomach lurches. is that all he thinks of you?
god, you need a drink.
the businessmen before you smile, prompting you to return the favor. subsequently, you humbly introduce yourself as just an ‘actor in the industry’. and they laugh. of course they do.
who wouldn't know you? a multi award-winning movie and television star with piles of nominations. so modest, they say. so kind, they praise. you grin, the smile not reaching your eyes, thanking them for their compliments.
but you're so accustomed to their fake smiles, ingenuine flattery, and sweet talk; you never truly know what's actually honest and real—eyes flickering to your azure-haired partner—no, who's honest and real.
you swallow the thought down.
as if aware of the invisible daggers thrown his way, ayato's gaze meets yours. his lips are pressed firmly together, eyes devoid of warmth.
not now, his expression conveys.
you narrow your own eyes, irritation burning through your corneas. as much as you want to start an argument in front of his investors, you agree to his silent insistence. after all it's his gala; one he's tirelessly prepared for over several months.
so you bite your tongue and smile: one honed by years of acting—fake yet strangely genuine.
it's not strong enough. you say, sipping wine with shaky hands. earlier, you left ayato to his fellow businessmen using the excuse of needing a bathroom break, a reason to which he obliged.
you stare at the elaborate party before you, wishing you could go home. the gala swiftly dissolved your social battery, aided by forced mingling and bitterness. a friend, your consciousness repeats. always a friend. so you sit on a chair by the wall, sipping drinks like water.
suddenly, the hairs of your neck stand on end. you sense his presence behind you, prompting a glance through your peripheral vision.
“careful, darling.” ayato's says, tone smooth yet laced with warning. “i'd rather not have you collapsing. your lovely face wouldn't compliment these filthy floors.”
you tense immediately, shoulders stiffening. “reverting back to pet names, i see?”
ayato's hand now rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “what seems to be the issue? i doubt it's due to the eight glasses of wine you've consumed in one sitting.”
you roll your tongue in your mouth, practicing the words. let's break up. you bite your tongue. let's see other people. besides, he wouldn't care would he? it's not as if he's been acknowledging you as someone he's been dating, has he? hiding your relationship from his business partners is one thing, but concealing it from closest friends? his family? that's an entirely different matter altogether.
a friend, he says to his business partners.
a star from the company, he answers to his closest friends.
a companion, he whispers to his family.
you're sick and tired of it. all of it.
raising the wineglass to your lips, you drown the drink in one go. you raise two fingers signaling the waiter for another drink.
ayato sighs and you think you feel his hand on your neck tighten, ever so slightly. “you've reached your limit with wine, dear.”
soon, the waiter arrives with three more glasses on his tray. ayato's disapproving glare compels the waiter to scurry across the ballroom floor, steering clear of you.
you click your tongue and begin, “who says so?”
“your fiancé,” he mutters, voice dripping with venom.
you immediately scoff. “sure. for your sake, i'll pretend you mentioned that earlier.”
before ayato could retort, the presence of another individual calls his attention; his younger sister, ayaka.
“brother, the sangonomiya heir's requesting your presence.”
he sighs, irritation etching his features. yet, you blink, catching a subtle shift in his expression—seemingly twisting from annoyance to something resembling relief at the mention of sangonomiya's name.
you swallow the bitter thought.
“watch them for me, could you? i'd rather not have them find a server willing to disobey my instructions and serve them a drink,” ayato whispers, his tone betraying a hint of tension that doesn't go unnoticed.
ayaka nods. her consent prompts the older brother to depart, heading towards the misty rose-pink heir who stands at the opposite side of the ballroom.
ayaka says the inevitable, “you should let him know it bothers you.”
“...i'm not sure what you're referring to.”
her gaze follows yours, observing the giggling and cheerful countenances of the kamisato and sangonomiya heirs. they seem to be enjoying their time together. as always, you remark.
“they're just close friends, you know.”
you click your tongue. “like how him and i are just friends?”
ayaka sighs, understanding your implication. “you know what i mean.”
sangonomiya's hand on your partner's shoulder elicits an exasperated sigh from you. “thoma told me they were to be married if i wasn't here.”
“the man always running his mouth—” she takes a calming breath before continuing, “—but brother's very fond of you. i'm his sister, i should know.”
“then how come after dating him for five years, he still calls me his friend.” you pause, a hand sliding into the right pocket of your outfit. you absentmindedly play with the engagement ring inside. “i'm his fiancé, aren't i?”
“he has his reasons. petty reasons.”
you bite your tongue. or he's embarrassed of you.
you met the kamisato company heir two years after your debut as an idol. as you shifted towards acting, you developed a close relationship with his sister, a seasoned actress from the same company. eventually, she became the bridge that strengthened the bond between the two of you.
you dedicated yourself nonstop, evolving from a rookie actor to a multiple-nominee and winning star; all in the pursuit of being able to openly show off your relationship with ayato without it tarnishing your reputation.
however, when you're prepared to finally reveal your relationship, he isn't.
and it leaves you wondering, is there someone else?
you mean, you're hesitant to doubt the love of your life. but considering he's kept your relationship a secret from everyone for years, it's obvious he's adept at keeping things hidden.
even from you.
and the thought sours your mood.
excusing yourself once more to use the restroom, using the premise of consuming ten glasses of wine, you bid adieu to your favorite kamisato (at the moment). you instead head towards a secluded balcony away from prying eyes.
you stare at the garden below. your eyes quickly blink back the tears threatening to fall. not now, you hiss. don't do this to me, not right now.
“i assumed you would have retreated to your room by this point.” his voice murmurs, unnervingly composed.
you turn around to see your partner holding a glass of wine. his features remain blank, inscrutable.
maybe it's because of all the wine you've been drinking. you can't seem to tell between what's real or not.
“what did you discuss with kokomi?”
“i wasn't aware you were both on a first name basis.”
“answer the question.”
he smiles, “business as always.”
you huff and wrap your hands around your arms. “of course. just business.”
ayato immediately picks up the anger in your tone. he lays his palm on your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. “look at me,” he pleads, with a subtle trace of irritation in his voice.
you turn to look at his face, eyes glaring.
“i felt your glares the entire night.” he begins.
you shrug, smiling innocently. “...what ever do you mean?”
“don't toy with me, darling.”
as he enunciates his answer, it's as if the final thread of your patience snaps. does he still continue to feign innocence and lie to your face?
last month he proposed and you were overjoyed. you then expected a shift in your relationship; the final unveiling of your engagement to the public. you gave him your permission, a definitive “i'm ready for everyone to know.”
yet thirty days later the engagement remains concealed leaving only a few of his friends (thoma) and a few family members (ayaka) knowing about your updated relationship.
if it was the ayato from two years ago, he would be delighted—ecstatic even—to reveal the truth. he might have used the gala today as an avenue to scream to the world, this person and i are in love.
but he didn't.
so the weight of your feelings began to drag you down; it almost feels suffocating in a way. as if a ribbon labeled, he's ashamed, tightly winds around your insides, intricately tying them all together into a sophisticated bow sowing distrust whispering; he's hiding something.
your suspicions, coupled with his frequent visits this month to the sangonomiya estate, fueled your frustration until it erupted. if only he ceased pretending innocent, perhaps you would able to smile through the whole facade.
if only he didn't ask.
“i'm not naive. if you developed feelings for kokomi then you shouldn't have proposed.” you snap. “was it out of pity? did you feel so damn guilty that you chose to go through with the engagement instead of being honest about your feelings?”
ayato furrows his brows, mouth tightening in anger. “what are you talking about? i discuss private affairs with kokomi. business affairs.”
you laugh; one infused with irritation and disbelief. “don't tell me then. keep your stupid secrets.”
“do you want me to jot down a damn list detailing every single thing i do in a day?” he growls. “i won't divulge company secrets just because you feel like throwing a tantrum.”
your hands drift to the tie around his neck, tugging the crooked tie straight. “no. go ahead and keep your secrets.” you pause and roll the words with your tongue, “you're clearly very good at keeping secrets. you’ve kept me—us—as a secret for so long, so of course you’d be good at keeping fucking secrets.”
anger flares across his face. “you desired our relationship to remain a secret, and i respected your wishes.” he sneers, “i wanted to let the damn world know how much i'm in love with you yet, it was the opposite of what you desired.”
ayato releases his grip on you and strides back into the ballroom, but he halts right at the door to the balcony. “so don't dictate when i should reveal the truth simply because you've grown sick and tired of keeping me as your dirty, little secret.”
he finally departs; and you stay, tears pooling, with a profound ache in your heart.
ayato waltzes around the room in a nonchalant dance; yes, good to see you. he lies. how's business? he couldn't care less. enjoy the party! no, he wants everyone in the damn room to feel his wrath.
although he yearns to set the entire ballroom ablaze, ending the party prematurely would be ill-manned of him. so, ayato continues being a gracious and honorable host.
but he feels hollow. he envisions himself freezing the entire room in an icy gust, everyone turning into statues. he wants to sprint back into your arms and plead for you to listen.
he doesn't understand what came over him. why he lost his temper like that. typically, he'd manage your outbursts with composure and understanding. what happened? he doesn't know.
he attributes his outburst to the mounting pressure. the chronic lack of sleep and continuous exhaustion coming from his title as heir. perhaps it's the truth gnawing his skin; despite his powerful position atop the company, it can easily be ripped away with the flick of a wrist.
instead of spending time with his fiancé—he doesn't know if he still deserves to call you that, you probably threw away his ring the second he left the balcony—yet here he is, engaged in conversations with business associates he cares little about.
“brother?” ayaka calls. she finds him leaning against a railing of stairs. “i closed off the gardens.”
ayato swallows. he last saw you sneaking towards the grounds. “they're still on the grass?”
“yes.”
“they'll catch a cold.”
“they will.”
he glances at his sister. “they think i'm unfaithful.”
“i know,” she says matter-of-factly. “have you offered them any evidence to convince them otherwise?”
ayato stays silent.
“i know you care about them, brother.” ayaka sighs, “however, surprising them with a specially crafted ring and being petty when your entire relationship is at stake may not be the wisest move.”
he sighs.
“most especially if they suspect that your frequent visits to the sangonomiya manor are fueled by romantic feelings for its heiress, and not for their own wedding ring.”
after a while, ayato spots you lying on the grass in a starfish formation, having finally swallowed his pride. his eyes glaze over your features: red eyes, cheeks marked with tear stains, and an exhausted expression.
“can we talk?” he begins.
you spare a quick glance before turning your attention back to the night sky. “there's not much to talk about.”
“i'm not cheating,” he asserts.
“i know.”
“do you know, or have you resigned yourself to not knowing?”
“hm,” you hum. “a part of me entertains the thought of you cheating. yet an even smaller part absolutely knows that if you were truly cheating, you'd be more discreet. who, in their right mind, would inform thoma that you visited her manor?”
he chuckles, a laughter-less sound escapes him. “i understand i've been secretive. you have every right to assume i'm up to something indecent. but i have my reasons.” ayato confesses, kneeling beside your body. he places his hand inside his suit pocket, pulling up a black small box.
you instantly sit up. “you're horrible,” you cough, eyes widening as he opens the box to show a ring. “this entire time you were—god.”
“i placed a special order,” he mumbles. “i visited each day to ensure it was flawless, right down to the smallest details.”
“i'm so sorry.”
“don't be, love.” he breathes, “you had your reasons, and i was insistent on keeping it a surprise.”
relief floods your features. “good,” you whisper before tears well in your eyes.
the sound of your sobs breaks his heart. he immediately wraps his arms around you, brushing his lips on your cheeks.
“i'm sorry, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the skin above your brow. “i'm sorry for worrying you.”
“goddamn sadistic,” you sob. “you knew i was freaking out, but you just watched!”
he grins, “i have to admit, you look cute when you're jealous.”
a groan escapes you. “don't make me throw away both rings.”
“is that so? i should've ordered twenty spares.”
“no.” you scold.
“oh? look at my darling, so jealous,” he smirks, nuzzling his face into your neck. you then feel his lips press into a straight line. “you're not something i would ever try to hide. i would never be ashamed of our relationship.”
you laugh, “prove it.”
your smile faces seeing the smirk on his face. in that exact moment, you know that kamisato ayato, the preposterous god in human flesh, plans to do something grand and explosive to prove you otherwise.
“do not.” you begin, “we've talked about this. you cannot—you absolutely will not bribe the government to declare our wedding date as a national holiday!”
bonus: ten minutes before the clash
“is it getting warm in here, or am i sensing the intense gaze of your loving fiancé on me?” kokomi laughs, sipping a glass of champagne.
ayato takes a peek, and he chuckles upon seeing your irritated and jealous expression. “they certainly are.”
“please do not involve me in your lovers' quarrels. everyone knows we're just close friends.”
“they do.”
“have you told them?”
“...it may have slipped past my mind.”
kokomi shakes her head. “sadistic.” she slips a black box into his palm. “clear it up. i do not want to be murdered by your future partner.”
ayato glances at you from across the room as you engage a conversation with his sister. “mhm, i could, but their jealous expression is too endearing.”
“sadistic,” she repeats. “absolutely sadistic.”
he chuckles.
“also, kazuha mentioned that you've been referring to them as your companion. correct that.” she continues, “and stop calling them your friend!”
“they asked me to when we started dating.”
she rolls her eyes. “you're so petty. stop trying to provoke them!”
“anyways, everyone knows we're engaged,” he corrects. “their whining face is the cutest.”
“sadistic.”
“kokomi?”
she tilts her head and hums, “yes?”
“ever wondered how much it costs to propose a national holiday?”
author’s note: lmao. so in this modern au ayato actually succeeds in turning your wedding date into a national holiday. the government actually appreciates his donation because a.) they always accept goodwilled (lmao) funds and b.) ayato's an important pillar to the gov and they don't want to upset him 'cause petty rich boy tantrums tilt the economy (how sadistic).
so, ayato's the heir of the company where you are employed at as an idol turned actor/actress. kokomi is the heiress to a big jewelry corporation. lmao they were both engaged together when they were like five but they instantly broke it off because well, they both threw five year old tantrums.
plus thoma telling you that they were to be engaged was just a fact he blurted out when you asked about kokomi (he manages to omit the five-year-old part because he's careless + he didn't think it matters because anyone can tell ayato's intensely in love with you)
#genshin x you#genshin x reader#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#genshin imagines#genshin impact x reader#tartaglia x reader#childe x you#childe x reader#ayato x reader#kamisato ayato x reader#ayato x you#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin headcannons#genshin angst#genshin hurt/comfort#kamisato ayato#childe#tartaglia x you
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Survivors
Evan Buckley x reader
summary You're taking care of Christopher when Buck comes home, looking absolutely drained and in shock and goes straight to Christophers room. You overhear the news and make sure to care for both Chris and Buck.
word count 1639
tags pretty much episode 14 season 4, Eddie gets shot but it's not described, Buck is sad :(, Chris being the precious kid he is
a/n the way I sat there in silence when Eddie got shot is crazy. Like first they hurt us with Athena and Bobby's fight and then one second passes and Eddie (my bb) gets shot I'm so confused 😭 anyway I couldn't take it when I saw bucks reaction so I wrote a fix it for me. Also I screen recorded off of an illegal site to make gifs LMAO
masterlist
You're washing the dishes when the front door opens and closes, footsteps echoing through the hallway and living room - right past the kitchen.
“Eddie?” You call and the steps stop. Instead of the man you'd expected there's your husband, Buck. He looks distraught, eyes bloodshot and lips bitten raw. What the hell happened? He doesn't even really look at you, it's like he's looking through you. “Buck? You okay?”
He licks his lips and blinks a few times but he doesn't reply. He walks straight to Christopher's bedroom, you following after him in confusion and worry. Why was he alone and why did he look like he'd seen a ghost or worse?
He stops before entering Chris’ room, but not to wait for permission to come in but more like hesitancy. He balls his hand into a fist and takes a deep breath before walking in. You take his spot in the doorway and watch with a worried frown as Buck squats down in front of Chris who's sitting on his bed, playing a video game.
“Where's Dad?” Buck looks down and you see him swallow again before he looks into the kids eyes. “He's.. not coming home tonight, Chris.”
Chris seems almost unbothered by it but considering that Eddie had to stay in the hospital overnight almost regularly due to his job, it was a reasonable reaction. But Buck doesn't seem to think the same and shakes his head minimally.
“Did he get hurt? In a fire?” Chris inquires and Buck turns his head to the side and slowly shakes it in negation. Before explaining it he sits down next to Chris and pinches the bridge of his nose, frowning. “No, not- not in a fire.” He takes another deep breath before continuing, “The truth is someone hurt your Dad.”
It's been a while since you've heard his voice so sullen and raspy from crying - probably since the last visit from his parents and that was weeks ago now. You slowly and quietly come into the room as well, standing at the foot of the bed and next to Buck with his back turned to you.
He regards you with a short glance before focusing back on Christopher, confirming his question, “Yeah, a bad guy.”
You see him reach up and wipe under his eyes, frowning in empathy as you put your hand between his shoulder blades and slowly move it up and down in hopes to calm him down a bit.
“Is he gonna be okay?” Chris asks and you're glad he did because you want to know too. Buck looks at him again and nods. “Your Dad is tough. He's a fighter.”
“He's with the doctors now? The ones that fixed you?” Chris inquires and Buck nods. You see the conflict on his face before the ten year old nods, “Then he's gonna be fine.” You hum and Buck glances your way before focusing back on Chris. Just as he's about to say something his phone pings twice and he looks down at it.
Over his shoulder you see the message as well, stemming from Bobby.
Out of surgery. Doctors say it went well.
Your heart basically drops in relief and Bucks seems to as well when his phone drops from his hand and he pretty much caves in, dropping his chin to his chest as he sniffles and exhales deeply.
You thread your hand in his hair and he automatically leans into you, resting against your stomach as he starts to cry. His hands grasp at your hips before his arms wrap around you and he sobs.
“Shh, it's okay, baby. Eddie's gonna be fine. Right, Chris? Your dad's strong.”
The young boy nods and you smile assuringly as he reaches out and wraps his arm around Bucks shoulders to pat his back. You melt at the sight and ruffle his hair which he usually doesn't like - only his dad is allowed to - but now he just looks at you with worry and confusion.
“How about you go and get ready for bed, hm?” It's not a question and it is a reasonable time for him to head to bed anyway, so he complies and slowly walks to the bathroom.
When he's out of earshot you sit next to Buck and let him fully wrap his arms around you and put his head on your chest as he cries. “H-He got shot right in front of me,” he starts with hitching breaths. “He just dropped and his blood was all over me-” he sobs deeply and you kiss his head while trying to process this yourself. He got shot?
“You couldn't have prevented it, love. He's gonna be fine. Eddie survived a lot, he's going to pull through this time, too.” Buck shakes his head and pulls back enough to look at you, blue eyes glossy and chin quivering as he gasps between another sob.
“It shouldn't have been him!” This devastates you and you cup his face in your hands, your worried expression replaced by a stern one. “It shouldn't have been anyone. Not him and not you, either. You hear me?”
He whimpers and you sigh, wiping your thumbs under his eyes and placing a long, soft kiss on his birthmark. “As soon as we can, we'll go visit him. But now you have to be strong, for Christopher. He looks up to you, if he sees you sad he'll be sad, too. Let's get him to bed, and I'll take care of you after.”
You take his hand and put it over your heart, exaggerating your breaths so he could match his and calm down. Right when he does he opens his eyes again and his frown fades enough to only be barely visible. “‘m sorry.”
The shake of your head is immediate, shutting up any further apologies. “No. It's good to let it out. I'm here so you can do exactly that if you need to. I love you, Evan. Nothing's gonna change that.”
He pulls his hand from your chest and tangles it with yours instead, gently kissing your knuckles and then your inner wrist.
He used to hate his name after it reminded him of his parents- of how they treated him. It reminds him of a life where he had to endure pain to receive love and attention.
But when you say it, it makes his heart beat faster in a good way. It makes him want to move on from his trauma or at least learn to deal with it.
And moreover it makes him feel validated. With you, he's not just Buck. He's also vulnerable, emotional and a bit cheesy. He's Evan. Evan, who's had more jobs in more cities than he can count on one hand because he was trying to find his place in the world. Evan, who likes the ocean but has been uneasy around it ever since the tsunami.
You smile lovingly and peck his forehead just as Chris comes back inside. He's wearing some dino pajamas and you ‘ohh’ at him which makes him giggle and turn as if to show off his outfit.
You move up from the bed - Buck going with you and standing at the foot of it - and untuck the bedsheets. “Get in there.” Chris grins and lays down, letting you tuck him in.
“Don't be sad, kid.” He says to Buck, who tries and fails to hide a new round of tears building up in his eyes. You had no clue where and why Chris sometimes calls Buck or even Eddie ‘kid’ but both of them seemed to love it.
“I'm just a bit worried for your Dad. But he'll be fine,” he adds the last part when you glance at him warningly, not wanting Chris to worry, and smiles. “Goodnight, bud.��
You leave his nightlight on and the door open as you leave.
Buck settles on the couch and watches as you approach and stand in front of him.
He leans back into the couch and looks at you with those puppy dog eyes that make you melt every single time he looks at you. Damn him and his beautiful eyes.
“I'm really scared. I don't know what I would do without him… when he laid there and looked at me, I-” he inhales sharply and looks at his hands, picking at his nails and reopening an old abrasion in the process.
You take his hand into each of yours to stop him and sigh, “I think you're gonna have to move from monthly sessions to biweekly, babe.” You know his therapy has been helping him a lot and you're glad he's working on coping with his trauma, but this addition is going to complicate not just his home life but also work - especially when Eddie comes back.
He groans and pulls you down until you're sitting on his lap, knees on either side of his thighs and his hands on your hips. “I appreciate your help, lovie, but just let me try and rest a little right now, please?”
You smile and card a hand through hair, moving to get off his lap so he could get comfortable on the couch. “Where do you think you're going?” He huffs and you're pushed onto your back before he's leaning over you, laying between your legs.
“You're gonna use me as your pillow?” You prompt and he nods, laying his head on your shoulder and nuzzling his nose into your neck and against your pulse point. You're familiar with his constant search for proof that you're alive and well; you supposed it comes from not just the job but his abandonment issues, too.
It didn't matter to you though, as long as you got to hold him at the end of the day you'd let him maneuver you into whatever way made him happy.
#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley#evan buck buckely#oliver stark#911 fanfic#911 show#911 fox#911 spoilers#eddie diaz 911#eddie diaz#christopher diaz
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Lucifer — Horrified looks from everyone in the room but I'm only looking at you
CW: uhm? fire? reader is in an arranged marriage
It has been more than a year now since you asked Lucifer out of curiosity and slight amusement:
"What happens when you enter a church?"
You look up from your D.D.D. to find that the demon you were speaking to didn't even look up from his paperwork, continuing to write.
"Do you catch on fire?" you jokingly ask,
"Yes." he responds, much to your surprise. with his eyes still glued to the paper on his desk, he continues on to explain, "But it's not like the flame hurts me. If anything, it's just inconvenient because I can barely see anything."
You didn't know whether to believe his words or not back then, but you certainly do now—a whole year after you returned to the human world, a whole year after he broke things off with you.
Gasps resounded in the building at the sound of someone kicking the church doors open, followed by ear-piercing screams from a few guests and others yelling about getting water as all the horrified eyes were focused on a single point; the flaming figure walking down the aisle.
"I said," the figure seemed unphased by the commotion he has caused and the roaring flames engulfing his being, "Stop the Wedding!"
You didn't know what to feel. At first, you felt horrified, anyone would be when they see this sight before them. But at the realization that it was your ex-boyfriend—whom you still love very much—you felt a mix of relief and annoyance.
Relief at the delay of your marriage with this man you barely even know, and annoyance because what in Diavolo's name is he doing here now?!
You didn't hesitate to walk back down the aisle, your soon-to-be husband and the priest too stunned to even try to stop you. The chaos inside the church suddenly became background noise as you met his crimson eyes—even if it was quite hard to see through the roaring flames.
"Lucifer," you hissed when you were only a few feet away from him, "What are you doing here?!"
"I'm here for you," He replies, he reaches his hands out in hopes of touching you which prompted you to flinch away from the flames—a gesture he misunderstood and mistook as rejection. His hands fell back to his sides and you can't even discern the look on his face with the fire blocking your view.
"How did you even know? I didn't.. I didn't tell anyone from the devildom."
"Ah.... Mammon punched me..." He informs you, his voice is low and quite embarrassed. For the second time that day, your eyes widen in surprise. Mammon? He did what? But before you could voice out your surprise, he continues.
"He said you were sobbing over the phone, and immediately assumed it was because of me. I was... worried. I asked Solomon to check on how you're doing here and-" He stops, and based on the movements of the flames, you assume he's looking around in search of the white-haired sorcerer. "He was the one who told me about this."
"And what do you hope to achieve?"
"To convince you to come with me."
"Weren't you the one who told me to find my happiness in someone else?"
"I did." He admits, "But you're not happy with him, are you?"
You turn your gaze down and away from his own, and your silence was enough of a response for him. As you continue to look down, his flaming hand came into your view, palms open and facing upward.
"Come with me." His deep voice was tempting you to take his hand, "Or not. It's your choice, darling."
You study his glove-clad hand, and as much as you want to take his hand, you were scared that it would just burn you and lead you to a world full of pain—literally.
You can turn back to safety and take your fiance's hand—the safer option wherein you're sure that you wouldn't get hurt, where you wouldn't have to turn your back on your family and not disappoint your parents.
Or you can take the risk and take Lucifer's hand—embrace the roaring flames and turn your back on everyone else, burning the bridge that once connected you to your family, to your parents, to the future they planned just for you.
You could've taken the roaring flames on Lucifer's hand as a bad omen, it was as if the universe was yelling at you to not hurt yourself by going back to him and you, yourself, already knew that. You should turn back. You should go back to the altar. You shouldn't come with him.
And with a deep breath, you finally made your decision.
....It doesn't hurt.
That was the first thought that popped into your mind when your bare skin met Lucifer's glove, and just as he said, the flames do not hurt. If anything, it was warm, a stark contrast to the coolness of his gloves as his fingers wrap around your hand once again.
You finally look up, a genuine, fond smile had made its way to his face now, before pulling on your hand.
"Let's run away,"
#obey me lucifer#lucifer obey me#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me luci x reader#lucifer x mc#lucifer x reader#obey me lucifer x mc#obey me lucifer x you#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader
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i owe you a black eye and two kisses (pt 8)
(Part one) (part nine)
pinboard | playlist | ao3 (consider leaving a comment if you read it on ao3 because they make me happy :D)
(Notes and taglist under the cut)
Eddie stayed in his room for most of the day, silent and curled up on his bed, until Wayne made him come out and help with dinner. And even then, he was still quiet, which he could tell was making his uncle worry.
“Eds?”
“Hm?” Eddie hummed back, trying for a smile, but it looked strained and broken and wobbly, a few tears falling down his face that he wiped away quickly, clearing his throat.
“Your boy gone?” Wayne asked quietly, and Eddie laughed wetly, his voice catching.
“He’s not my boy, Wayne,” He looked back down into the sink, at the lettuce he was supposed to be washing in his hands. “And yeah. He’s gone.”
“You tell him to go?”
Eddie shrugged. “Didn’t have to.” He placed the lettuce down on the towel and dried it off for a moment, before sucking in a shuddering breath and leaning against the counter. “I don’t think I want to eat tonight.”
Wayne sighed—like he was used to this, because he was. He nodded and moved Eddie over gently to finish up with the lettuce. Eddie frowned, opening his mouth to protest, because he could still help, but Wayne pushed him back with a flat hand to his chest, looking him over.
“Go on a walk. Clear your mind. Take your music with you or something. Then go talk to Steve. I know you two fought.”
“I—“
“No, I’m right. And I don’t know how it started or who’s fault it was, but you need to work this out,” Wayne says sternly, his hand clamped over Eddie’s shoulder. “Because despite what you think, he’s a good kid, and I care about that boy an awful lot, now that I’ve gotten to know him. And I don’t want to see him or you get hurt. You hear me?”
Eddie nodded, choking out a quiet sob and squeezing his eyes shut. Wayne pulled him into a hug for a moment, before patting Eddie’s shoulder and sighing. “You’re a good kid, too. A little stupid at times, but a good kid.”
Eddie laughed wetly, gently smacking Wayne’s hand away from him. “Whatever, old man.”
“Now go,” Wayne muttered, shooing Eddie away with a small smile. “You annoy me more when you're sad.”
Eddie flipped him off halfheartedly before turning and grabbing his Walkman from his room, stuffing his feet into his shoes and heading outside. He eyed the picnic table. He had kind of enjoyed how Steve’s cheeks had flushed, then, all embarrassed and pretty as he coughed.
But he fucked over his chances of ever seeing him like that again, Eddie thought as he walked, (Anesthesia)--Pulling Teeth blasting into his ears loud enough to make him go deaf.
He hadn’t meant to make Steve cry like that—and fuck did that man look fucking pretty when he cried—he had wanted Steve to get angry. He had wanted Steve to fight back so that he could prove to himself that Steve was still the person he used to be in highschool. Because he couldn’t possibly fall in love with someone who had hurt him.
But Steve hadn’t gotten angry, he had gotten sad, and that made Eddie feel horrible. Fuck, he didn’t just feel horrible, he was horrible. Steve was something he didn’t know he had wanted. He was beautiful, he was tragic, he was everything. And it wasn’t the drugs that had made Eddie do what he had done, it was fear.
Because Steve was perfect—too perfect—and maybe he was nice now, but what would happen after? If Eddie gave in, gave Steve what he wanted, and let himself fall deeper? What would happen when Steve was done with the mess that was Eddie Munson?
Eddie would just get hurt again, that’s what. He would get hurt, and he would be fucking broken—but now Steve was fucking broken, and…god, he had really fucked up, hadn’t he?
Eddie went over to Ken’s instead of taking a walk down to BrandyWine—the small wooden bridge across the creek, which Gareth had named a few months ago—and she looked pissed when she opened the door for him, looking him over and glaring at his devastated appearance. “Steve’s not here if you’re looking for him.”
“Why would Steve be with you? He doesn’t know you,” Eddie muttered, pushing past her and stepping into her trailer. It was smaller than his, and the whole place smelled like incense and oranges. “Jesus, how much of that shit did you burn?”
“He does know me, now, actually,” She said, shoving Eddie’s shoulder lightly as he turned to face her again. “After I found him crying in my front yard.”
“Fuck,” Eddie muttered, sighing and dropping his head into his hands. “Look, Ken, I already feel bad enough, I don’t need a lecture right now, okay?”
Ken leaned over him slightly to look in the mirror and fix her hair a bit around the edges, her tank top hiking up her back. Eddie tugged it back down, tucking it back into her too-short jean shorts. She huffed and turned to him. “I promised him I wouldn’t yell at you—and I won’t push for answers, either, since you really do look upset—but that doesn’t mean I can’t be mad at you.”
Eddie nodded, feeling his eyes prickle with tears again. He hadn’t really let himself cry over this, and he didn’t think he deserved to. He had been an asshole, he didn’t get to cry. Ken sighed and adjusted the straps of her tanktop. He looked down so that he wouldn’t have to meet her gaze. Her white socks were riding low below her knees, bunched up and grass-stained.
“I know you’re hurt, babe, trust me. You didn’t tell me that my hair was nice when you first came in, which is always a dead giveaway,” she was being serious, but Eddie laughed quietly, sniffing and looking up at her when she took his hands in hers, squeezing gently. “But Steve is hurt too. And I know you don’t like him very much, but he at least deserves an apology.”
Eddie bites back a sob, nodding. “I know. And I will, I just…don’t know if he’ll forgive me.”
“People don’t apologize for forgiveness, honey,” Ken whispered, pulling him into a hug, his chin over her shoulder and her arms around his waist. “We apologize because we feel bad. Understand?”
Eddie nodded again, turning to press his face into Ken’s neck, hating how his chest ached when she slid her hand up and down his back, being so fucking gentle with him even though he didn’t deserve that, either.
“And,” She continued, her voice softer. “I’m pretty sure he’ll forgive you. Trust me.”
“How do you know everything already?” Eddie whined halfheartedly, pushing his face further into Ken’s neck, and he could feel it when she laughed. “I’m older than you.”
“Maybe if you spent less time being all mopey and pissy, you’d learn a thing or too,” she teased, poking him in the side and he jolted, tightening his hold on her and frowning.
“Rude.”
“I’m right, though, and you know it. I’m always right.”
Eddie laughed again, shaking his head slightly. “I hate you.”
“I know,” She whispered, moving her hand up to his hair as she shifted around him to press her cheek to the side of his head. “I could give you a ride to Steve’s, if you want.”
Eddie sighed, sinking into her embrace and nodding, slipping a finger through a loop in her jeans and tugging, his breath catching again. He really didn’t want to have to face Steve yet—maybe give himself some time to compose himself so he didn’t become hysterical when he tried to apologize—but he didn’t want to wait to do it like an asshole, either. “Yeah, fine.”
Kendall pushed him away gently by the shoulders, smiling slightly when he frowned and tried to pull her back to him. “You’re so fucking clingy, did you know that?”
“I’ve been told. By you. Many times,” Eddie muttered, moving hair out of his face and sighing again. He made a small noise of protest as she grabbed his wrist and dragged him over to the bathroom, saying that he should “shower first, because he should look presentable when he apologizes.”
Eddie flipped her off and rolled his eyes, but showered anyway.
i can’t draw for shit but have this doodle of Kendall (Ken) i made because i love her and she is literally me
I have a problem making characters who look and act like me leave me alone :(
as always, reblogs and comments make my day ♥️
taglist which is always open unless i say otherwise!:
@estrellami-1
@randombibitch
@insteviewetrust
@anne-bennet-cosplayer
@hack-saw2004
@lolawonsstuff
@goodolefashionedloverboi
@slowandsteddie
@ellietheasexylibrarian
@mugloversonly
@littlebluejane
@zombiethingy
@steddie-island
@rozzieroos
@ohimamarigold
@origamiplushie
@mamafaithful
@stillfullofshit
@gleek4twd
@swimmingbirdrunningrock
@anaibis
@xxfiction-is-my-realityxx
@honhonbaguettegofuckyourself
@kickpuncher2punchkicker
@dissociatingdemon
@itsall-taken
@pluto-pepsi
@lawrencebshoggoth
@manda-panda-monium
@flustratedcas
@here4thetrauma
@silentiumdelirium
@limpingpenguin
@samsoble
@hotluncheddie
@sangrientojoe
@moomkin77
@jamieweasley13
@private-jett
@eyeharttart
@y4r3luv
@ultimatezuku
@emelieluckwood
@foundintheshadows (you didn’t ask to be added but i saw your tags, so let me know if you don’t want to be tagged again in the next part ♥️)
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#Wayne Munson#Wayne Munson fic#wayne Munson fanfic#Eddie Munson fic#Eddie Munson fanfic#Steve Harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steddie fanfic#eddie x steve#steve x eddie#stranger things fic#stranger things OCs#stranger things fanfic#stranger things AU#st3#finn writes#My writing#my fic
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sam gets really hurt during a game of the matildas against england and millie and caitlin find u in the crowd and pull u onto the pitch because sam cant get up and u comfort her
im thinking ACL like maren in that chelsea bristol game like that serious
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nLTTFwIljY
I've got you | sam kerr
you hear her scream before you realise what's happened. suddenly you were up on your feet with the rest of the stadium, watching on as sam screamed on the floor in pain. you had never heard her sound like that before, you had never heard anyone sound like they were in so much pain.
your heart was beating so fast in your chest, you weren't sure that it was going to hold up for much longer. you clutched your t-shirt in your fists as you kept your gaze on sam. guro, millie and fran were surrounding her, Lauren making her way over too. you could hear a pin-drop at stamford bridge, everyone watching on as their star striker laid on the pitch in pain.
you weren't sure if she had stopped screaming, or if it was just replaying in your mind as you helplessly watched your love on the ground. the medical team were now on the pitch, moving the girls away from sam.
she still had her head on the ground, her fist punching the turf as she worked through the white hot pain coursing through her leg. she hadn't felt pain this bad since she did her knee in 2014, she knew it was going to be a shit outcome.
you felt the tears begin to well in your eyes as you watched her, knowing there was nothing you could do to help her.
they eventually got sam onto the stretcher, and took her off of the pitch. the crowd clapped her exit, you just watched as she made her way down the tunnel, tears staining her skin as she held her arm over her head.
you heard someone call out to you. when you looked down, you saw millie and emma gesturing you over to the railing. "c'mere" millie said as she reached out for you. you turned around and leant over, allowing millie to pull you down onto the pitch; having done it so many times with sam you were practically an expert.
you thanked her and emma before rushing down the tunnel, going to find your girl.
a trainer recognises you and points you in the direction of the medical room. you wait outside, not wanting to interrupt their work. eventually, someone comes out of the room with a phone in their hand.
"y/n" it's James, a physio who works with sam regularly, and you've never been more thankful to see a friendly face.
"what's happened?" you're scared to hear the answer, but when he utters the letters ACL you feel like crying again. "I need to see her," you whisper.
"yeah," he nods, "I'm gonna get an ambulance down for her, get her in asap".
"thanks," you nod before heading into the medical room. "hey superstar," you smile. sam's heart can suddenly beat again after hearing your voice, but as soon as she meets your eyes, she breaks down into tears again.
"oh sammy" you come stand in front of the bed and hold her close to your chest, letting a few tears roll down your face. "I've gotcha" you smile, trying to hold yourself together for her.
"I've fucked it," she whispered. "I really fucked it" she sobbed.
"it's gonna be okay," you squeeze her just that little bit tighter, before planting a kiss on her head. you lean your cheek against her as you whisper to her again, "I've got you".
and no matter how shit it was, she knew that you did.
#blurb night one • . * .#sam kerr x reader#sam kerr imagine#sam kerr one shot#woso imagine#woso one shot#woso x reader#blurb . * • .
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More ghost! Roach - Accidental Necromancer Soap AU : little moments
141 in the middle of a briefing, when suddenly Soap gasps, interrupting Price. Everyone turns to look at him and he looks back like a deer in headlights, apologises with a stammered excuse, something like he saw a spider or something, and the meeting continues with dubious looks.
"You're so bad at that," Roach giggles from where he's floating around above the table. "It wasn't even that big of a news, they were flirting for months! I have way worse, you know one of the Corporals under your command, the redhead one? She's been secretely married for years to the medic lady that stitched you up last week! Stop gaping at me, where's your pokerface oh my god-"
And then Soap uses all that information to win bets against Gaz.
Or also, Roach telling jokes while there's people around Soap. "Don't laugh," he taunts him. "Don't even smile or they'll know you're crazier than they think."
And then he tells the worst joke ever and Soap can't help the snort that escapes him and again, everyone turns to look at him.
"I can't believe you're laughing in a room full of explosives tied to people," Roach gasps, knowing full well that's exactly the result he wanted.
Soap rolls his eyes at him quickly and focuses back on defusing. He'll get him back when they're alone and he doesn't look weird talking to the air.
"He knows you find him hot, he's neither blind nor stupid," Roach says, peeking above Ghost's shoulder. "If you want him to blush you need to call him 'pretty'. Worked every time..."
And he's right. When Soap tells Ghost he's a bonnie lad, explains what it means, it's very obvious how flustered he becomes, and the visible part of the bridge of his nose gets very red.
"Be ready to be grabbed at every opportunity, his love language is physical touch but he'd rather die than admit it."
Roach has a bit of a poltergeist moment when he finds out he can touch things again. Cups go flying into walls, chairs move around, shoes disappear. Roach is very overwhelmed and gets non verbal, which is a bit hard because Soap only knows the basics of BSL and has to ask Ghost to translate by copying live what Roach is saying. (Ghost, who has seen the ghost of his dead lover save his life just a day before objects started flying, recognising in the back of his mind the quirks of Roach's way of signing being reproduced by Soap, but not willing to believe yet)
It lasts a few days and the whole base is convinced they're haunted by a ghost. They're not wrong, Soap wants to say. And not only one, but the others are far more apathetic, barely there.
Then Roach calms down, all at once, when he realises that maybe... maybe he can touch people too. He's very nervous. It's been years since he touched someone, years of his hand going through Ghost's arm as he tried to make him see him. Years of not feeling the warmth of a living being.
That scares him. What if he can touch Soap, but he doesn't feel anything? What if it feels the same as the glasses he's been trying to juggle for days?
So he waits until Soap is asleep and he holds out his finger, slowly, hands trembling, and presses it softly to Soap's forehead. He's... He's warm, he realises with a gasp. He's warm!
Soap wakes up to sobbing and soft fingers on his cheeks and in his hair. He gets reassured very quickly that it's happy sobbing and Roach kisses him.
Ghost, after learning about the ghosts existence, starts having really bad nightmares every night. Has to be reassured that no, he's not actually a ghost. He hasn't actually died in that grave, he's here, he's warm and he's alive and loved.
#cod mw2#john soap mactavish#gary roach sanderson#simon ghost riley#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghostroach#soaproach#ghostsoaproach#accidental necromancer soap and ghost roach au#oh imagine soap saying 'excuse me' walking around someone in the corridor and the other people looking at him like ? bc there's no one#because it was just a ghost walking around and he didn't realise#gaz going 'cap i think there's something wrong with soap' 'yeah i know he ate all your cereals...' 'no no something actually wrong as in#horror movie wrong he speaks to people who don't exist' '... and your first thought is horror movie? before ptsd or schizophrenia or smth?'#'yes i know he's... well i'm pretty sure he's fine he's just speaking with ghosts i'm sure of it'#and soap - sweating - being like 'ahah speaking with ghosts? me? ahah ghosts don't even exist what are you talking about ahah?'#and gaz just looking at price like see? see how bad he's lying? and price thinking it's such a bad lie that it's probably a joke
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hi kenn!! happy 1k i’m so proud of u! 🩷🩷
i’m not sure if i’m allowed to use multiple prompts so feel free to just use one!!
“what the hell was that for?” + “how dare you speak to me that way?” aka angst with either tito or barzy whoever u feel like!! :) 🫂
you are for sure allowed t use multiple prompts! and what angsty prompts you have chosen dear god. BUT i had fun with this! SEND MORE ANGSTY PROMPTS (they will probably all end happily because i hate conflict but oh well). because this is a little angsty i put some warnings below:
warning: volatile relationship with family (i.e. your mom)
you weren't exactly sure how it started, but you knew the second mat slammed the front door that things had to be over.
right?
it's not like you wanted it to be, deep down you loved him but today, yesterday, you wanted to throttle him.
you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.
no you didn't.
you loved him.
god you loved him.
so why were you crying on the couch? why were your hands shaking? wasn't love enough? couldn't it be enough? shouldn't it be enough?
"what the hell was that for, jackass? you're just gonna go ape shit on anyone who so much as looks at me the wrong way? i can't believe you!"
"me? you can't believe me? you're just gonna let her talk to you like that and i have to sit and watch? i can't do that!"
"she's my mother, mat! i don't know what you want me to say!"
"i want you to say that how she talks to you is horrible and unacceptable. i want to hear you say that you deserve better than to be undermined and compared to other people by someone who is supposed to love you unconditionally." you refused to make eye contact with him, staring at his shoes instead. "will you at least look at me?"
"it was none of your business, you should've just kept your mouth shut."
"like hell i am!" he threw his hands up. "i don't let anyone talk about the people i love like that, especially the love of my life. and especially when that person is a grown ass woman."
looking back on it, you weren't sure why you reacted the way you did. in mat's defense (which was a side you took often), you wouldn't have tolerated anyone talking bad about him either.
so why did you accept it from your mom? why did you accept that behavior from her?
when you closed your eyes you could still hear her shriek "how dare you speak to me that way?" you could see the fire in her eyes and the ice in mat's.
you should've kept your mouth shut. should've thanked mat for defending you. should've hugged and kissed him when you got home for sticking up for you yet again.
but you let this stockholm syndrome grip your mother had on you destroy the greatest thing that had ever happened to you, possibly irrevocably.
your hands shook at the idea of losing him, at not wearing his jersey to games, at not curling up in bed while you traced shapes into his chest. your heart ached at the thought of no longer calling him, yours, at not belonging to him anymore at--
mat stormed back through the door, so hard that it creaked on its hinges. but he did the due diligence of shutting it much quieter than he had before.
he pointed at you, his hand was shaking and when you got a good look at him, his cheeks were wet and his eyes glistened.
"i love you," he said. "i will love you until my dying breath and that means not allowing people to talk shit about you. i don't care if it's my friends, my fans, my family or your mom. i won't have it. i love you too much to let someone tear you down. so i won't apologize for sticking up for you, i will never apologize for advocating for you, but i will apologize for yelling at you and letting my ego get the best of me. i never want to hurt you, so if i did that tonight, hear me when i say i am so sorry."
to say you were a blubbering mess by the end of his speech would've been an understatement. you all but launched yourself off the couch and into his arms, where he readily accepted you.
you sobbed into his chest while he rubbed his hands up and down your back as he pressed kisses into your hair.
"i'm sorry, i should've been grateful, i should've been--"
"she's your mom, baby, i get it. just know that i'm never gonna let her disrespect you again as long as i'm around, okay?" he pulled you back just to cradle your face in his hands. "i love you."
you gave him a watery smile right as he kissed your forehead. "i love you too."
#1k celebration#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal imagine#mathew barzal imagine#mat barzal#mathew barzal#nhl blurb#nhl imagines#nhl imagine
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Stray Dogs Will Crawl Home.
includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. angst (with a happy ending).
warnings— gn!reader. breakups. keigo's trauma because i can't give this man a break and he needs to heal.
For better or for worse, Keigo has always been thrust into the role of decision maker.
Sure, on the inside, his emotions pick and chew at his open wounds; but the man has driven the proverbial and literal knife into far too many backs to hesitate when he leaves you.
He can do what needs to be done. It's for your own good. You deserve more than half a man, more than the scraps of whatever is left crawling to your door after another day of putting his goals of building a peaceful society before you.
The night before he left you, stone-faced to contrast your tears and begs of 'why' on the cold of your doorstep, he lay on his side and watched you sleep. Tracing the bridge of your nose with the tip of a finger, he wondered, throat tight, what you'd think of him if you knew the truth of what he's done.
He can't bear to offer you a man who's already sold himself. You shouldn't have to shoulder the weight of his sins. He tells himself it's for the greater good, but under the cobwebs of his bed, he knows a smaller, childlike voice is telling him you deserve someone who isn't dirtied by a life counting shades of moral grey.
It aches like he's dying, sure, but that's what hero work is for, right? He can throw himself into the trenches, hour after hour, until the sun looms over the horizon and the lovebirds' chirps announce the arrival of another morning without you.
For what everyone in the media says about him being a 'golden boy', he just doesn't feel the sun without you.
His subordinates ask more than a few questions about the bags under his eyes, why his glowing smile has fizzled to a mere plastic performance. It's even easier to brush them off than it was to brush off you, to smile wider and turn the question on them— an unspoken order to fucking drop it.
But Keigo's kryptonite, the deep burn that itches under the layers of his skin, is that he's well aware of what happens after someone like you becomes single. The thought crawls under the remains of his bones, and as he perches on the highest point of the city, he makes the mistake of allowing himself to entertain it. If he wasn't weighed down under the drags of sleep deprivation, he'd curse himself for being so weak.
Deep down, he knows what happens after the weeks of digging through tubs of comfort food on the couch are over. You'll stop sobbing over the phone with your best friend. You'll probably start scheduling little dates with people who remind you less and less of him with each passing one.
You're going to move on.
Someone else's fingers will press against your skin. Someone else's quips will cause you to laugh into your sleeve, someone else will hear your shaky breaths under the cover of the night, someone else will whisper promises they can't keep.
Someone else is going to make a spouse of you.
He winces. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he takes a single stride off the ledge and surges upwards with the beat of his wings.
He makes a note to add another shift to his schedule. Maybe two.
Are you thinking of him? If you were here, he knows you'd tell him to be open with you, to stop 'being so goddamn stubborn'. You'd tell him he deserves a break from pushing his emotions down, that you knew damn well what you signed up for when you decided to be his, and to just trust your judgement for once.
To make matters worse, you'd frame it sweet, hook the words around his heart like a taffy lasso, make it so he can't resist. You do know how much he likes it sweet.
It picks at the anger thrumming in his veins. You expect him to lay himself bare? To expose the rawest parts of him, despite the commission's repeated orders not to? You expect him to be selfish?
Why does he want so badly to be selfish?
He should definitely add two more shifts to his schedule.
His phone begins to ring, startling him from his musings. He knows exactly who it is from the first note. Your favorite song plays on his speaker; the one you confessed reminds you of him, with your thumb swiping over the raised hairs on his skin. His heart hammers in the cavity of his chest, pleading to be let out.
He can't be fucking rid of you. Keigo's heart, his mind, his very bones crackle with the fire he frantically tries to put out. God, he wants to burn, wants to drag himself by his fingertips to the door of your chapel and beg you to just finish him off. He wouldn't mind serving as the ash of your incense. He'd do anything for a chance to fill your lungs.
Shit. He scrambles to dig his phone from his pocket, nearly dropping it like hot coals when he attempts to pick it up.
"H-Hey, sweetheart!" He cringes at the puppy-like excitement in his voice at the mere sound of yours. "I'm s-sor— I," he stutters for far too long before he finally gives up. Sighing into the speaker, resigned, he squeezes his eyes shut and says exactly what his mind is screaming he shouldn't.
"Can we talk?"
#GRIPPING KEIGO IN MY FIST. HEAL DARN YOU.#hawks x reader#keigo takami x reader#🖋 writing#🍧 sugar#bnha x reader#mha x reader
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What if...?
Fem!Reader
angst, purely self-indulgent, probably ooc Simon
You've done this before... numerous times actually; getting into your head too much, being stuck in a mind loop, making a mountain out of a molehill and start an argument out of nowhere, but you dread that day... the thought alone makes you dizzy and nauseous. Although he had tried to reassure you countless times but still you haven't been fully convinced, still feeling not good enough and undeserving of his love... a love so pure, beautiful and passionate it feels like a dream. You still had not been successful to defeat the dark part of your mind that makes up these fucked up scenarios. What if he finds someone else? Someone more patient, present and mentally stable? Someone who’s willing to give him anything and everything he desires? "I'm worried, Simon. Worried that you'll resent me when we're older and it's just the two of us." "Love, don't you think that's enough? Just us? Because for me it is. We don't have to have children to fulfill our love." His words start to calm your racing mind a bit, but the dark thoughts start to run through your head again. As you try to process it all, gather your thoughts and think about what to say next, he takes your hand in his gently rubbing your knuckles and leaning in to give you a tender kiss on your cheek. After some time passes you break the silence "I know but wha- ... what if you regret it? What if-" fuck it’s starting again... your head hurts from thinking too much "What if you find someone else? Someone who-" he cuts you off starting to get a bit irritated "Someone else? Never! Please... bloody fuckin hell!” he lets out a loud sigh and gets up from the sofa and stands there pinching the bridge of his nose “How could you even say that? Love, please don't let these thoughts get to you. We've been through this a thousand fuckin’ times. You're the only one for me. And I would never force you to do anything that you don't want or put your life at risk. What kind of man would I be if I did that? Why should I even say this? It should be obvious, right? I just don't know why you wouldn't believe me!" His voice is getting louder by each sentence and tears start to well up in your eyes and soon after, you’re crying "I believe you, Si. I'm so sorry. I don't mean to upset you. It's just that- that these fucked up thoughts never really leave me alone, no matter how much I try, I just can't escape." You manage to get out the words through your sobs. He feels guilty now... and helpless. You're sobbing right in front of him... because of him. It’s all his fault. He should've been more patient and understaning. "It’s ok, love. I didn't mean to get angry. I'm so sorry. Please... what can I do?" He gives you a bone crushing hug and rocks you back and forth to calm you down. You take deep breaths and he pulls away slightly when he feels your racing heart calm down. He looks at you with glossy eyes, guilt and a thousand apologies evident in them. "Whenever you start getting these thoughts again just tell me, ok? Don't let it get to that point where you get stuck." "Ok, Si. I promise I will try but it won't be easy. It just takes some time for me to come to my senses after those thoughts strike my mind." "I'm right here whenever you need me. You don't have to go through this alone. We can even get help from some professionals if you want." "Yeah, that’s a good idea. Thank you, Si." He gently kisses your forehead and slowly pulls you into his arms again "I love you" "I love you too, Si."
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost riley#ghost simon riley#cod fanfic#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#call of duty#cod mw2#cod#mw2#cod modern warfare
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The teacher Steve post 🥹 would love a continuation of how the students find out about Eddie (ie some kids see someone with a mop of dark curls giving Steve a goodbye kiss as they drop him off at school, another group catches a glimpse of someone snuggled up to Steve, face tucked in the crook of his neck as he grades papers at his desk through the glass of his classroom door after school - someone SWEARS they see Mr H holding hands with someone who looks suspiciously like Eddie Munson at the fun fair last Saturday-)
-but they don’t put two and two together, or no one fully believes it until the end
Yes, I love this !! (original post)
There are so many little clues that point to Eddie actually being Steve's husband but his students just brush it off as Steve being funny or a coincidence.
For example, there's always a note on Steve's lunch that says, 'Have a great day :) Love Eddie.' His students see it and giggle and whisper to each other about how cute it is that Mr H writes notes to himself from his celebrity crush. One girl even went as far as to tell Steve that his handwriting looks nothing like Eddie's. Steve went home that day and told Eddie that his handwriting looks nothing like Eddie Munson's and that he's obviously a fraud.
Last week, he ran into one of his students at the grocery store while he was with Eddie and instead of the dramatic reaction he was expecting, the kid just looked Eddie up and down and shrugged. "You could have picked someone that looks a little more like him, Mr Harrington." Steve isn't too shocked, he's used to kids having no filters. Eddie, on the other hand, didn't take it well. He sobbed in the car for a solid 10 minutes and glared at the kid when he walked passed their car.
There's even a framed picture from their wedding day sitting in the middle of his desk. "You're not very good at photoshop, Mr H." One kid says with a shake of his head. Steve is offended this time because the picture happened to be his absolute favourite from their wedding.
It isn't until the very last day of the year that Steve finds out the students have been playing him, that they've known all along.
Eddie walks in to pick him up as a surprise on the last day and there's not a single shocked reaction from the kids. They all just look like they want to leave. "Don't you guys want my husband Eddie Munson's autograph?" He asks.
"Will he be quick?"
"Wha- ?! Are you not surprised it's actually me?" Eddie's pouting now, his eyes scanning the room for at least one shocked reaction but the kids are all packing their stuff up with blank, tired faces.
"No, we knew. It was just fun to see Mr H think of new ways to convince us. He showed us your baby photos last week."
Eddie whirls on Steve, who is staring at his class in shock, and jabs him in the chest lightly. "You told me those photos were to show your grandma!"
The kids do end up getting Eddie's signature before they leave. They all hug Steve goodbye and then hold out their chosen objects for Eddie to sign as they walk through the door. "Just so you know, Steve talks about you a lot. I think he's obsessed." One of the students not so quietly whispers to Eddie. Steve rolls his eyes. He doesn’t talk about Eddie that much.
Eddie fake gasps and looks over at Steve with a smirk. "I agree. Definitely obsessed."
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. He's never going to hear the end of this.
#and with that i am now goinf to sleepo#THANKS FOR THIS ANON#was the perfect thing to write before bed#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#st4 vol2#steveddie
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The Proposal - Rooster x reader
Summary: Your boyfriend rooster has plans to propose, and the day of, you decide to do a crazy stunt and end up loosing connection with the tower, leaving rooster worried for your whereabouts. Will rooster's proposal go as planned?
Request: (summarized) from the wonderful @tinfoilhat2719 "hey! could you write something where the reader and rooster are dating and he plans to propose. the reader is a pilot and one day decided to do a crazy stunt in the air, and of course rooster gets worried. when she lands...." (you will see;))
A/N: Well, I watched top gun: maverick again yesterday, and when I say I sobbed, I SOBBED. I got this request a couple days ago, and i've been busy working away at it since - sorry it took so song, i've been so busy these last few days with prep for visiting my uni this weekend (with me luck lol). I am in-love with rooster now, so enjoy this story that is chaotic but fun :) also, i'm not a professional pilot, so enjoy me trying to describe this flight maneuver lol. I LOVE YOU ALL xoxo - Mackenzie :) (ps, the readers call sign is "Shadow").
Wordcount: 4.8k
"You got a ring and everything?" maverick asked, looking at a small blue box in the palm of roosters hand, "when the hell did you get so grown up?"
rooster flashed him a quick grin and then opened the box to show him the faded gold band, with a sparkling diamond in the centre and two smaller ones on either side. the ring was gorgeous and classy in an old fashioned type of way, and that was the perfect thing for his girlfriend, or should we say, soon to be fiancé??
As rooster slipped the box back into the pocket of his jeans, the air between him and maverick fell silent. "Do you have any advice on this sort of thing?" he asked maverick, who's definition of commitment was a three month long fling involving motorcycle rides, steamy kisses (and rounds of forceful sex) , and singing along to the songs on the radio.
"Rooster," he said, putting a hand on the young pilots shoulder, "I'm not the best at this kind-of stuff." Rooster looked away, unsure of why he asked anyways. Maverick noticed and spoke up, "Look at me, it took me thirty years to finally realize that penny was all I had ever wanted in life. And we both know you're way smarter than that."
Roosters lips curled up sideways into a smirk, "You got that right pop."
Any time someone - particularly one of his students, - would refer to maverick as 'pop' or 'old man' they would get a light slap on the shoulder, and maverick would put on a show about how he hated being referred to as a senior. But whenever rooster call him that, his heart (yes, maverick has a heart) would swell a tiny bit just to know that Bradley thought of him as a father figure. And hell, he was here right now asking him for advice on his proposal.
"You're a great guy Bradley," maverick begun, "and y/n's a great girl. the two of you make quite the pair!"
Rooster grinned, fumbling the wallet sized photo of y/n that he kept in his flight suit pocket. It was a photo of you on the beach, yes, that beach. The one beach in Italy that was a favourite spot of yours, where you would spend hours walking the sand and swimming in the sea with your lover. The portrait was of you in an airy white linen shirt, a pair of shorts, and your sun-kissed hair was messily kept beneath one of Bradley's baseball caps. A smile, glowing brightly on your face. The sort of smile that came after a bought of laughter; the sort of smile in which your eyes turned up, and your nose was crinkled. The sort of smile that was only found on your face whenever rooster was near.
"I wish I had more experience in this type of thing," maverick said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "but man, when you have it, you have it."
"And hey," maverick said patting rooster on the back, "You'll be a great husband. Anyone who has you in their life is lucky, because rooster, you are one of the best people I know."
...
"Are you going up today?" phoenix asked, tucking one final bobby pin in her dark hair.
"Yeah," you said, "I'm thinking about trying out a new maneuver."
Phoenix, one of the only other female pilots on base, and your wild roommate, always was keen on hearing about your latest plans to spice things up in the sky. "Really?" she asked, eyes bright, "I want to hear all about it!"
So, on your afternoon walk to the flight depot, you told phoenix everything. Every gruelling detail, and little insignificant note was spilled, and phoenix was glad to hear it. "That is so badass," she said after you told her about your plans, "I haven't even tried the cobra yet!"
You tucked a loose strand of hair back into your bun and grinned, "Hey," you said, smirking, "I can be your wingman anytime."
Phoenix laughed, having picked up on the saying that was often bounced around Captain Mitchell and Admiral Kazanzky, some inside joke of theirs from their old days at top gun??
"If I did that with bob in the back, he would never forgive me," phoenix said, putting on her favourite pair of aviators, "I love him to death, but he is so work driven that sometimes he forgets to have fun."
You were glad that you flew solo, just you and your f-18 up in the sky. It also worked whenever you wanted to try something new, because with a bask seater, you have someone else to think about as opposed to just yourself and your jet.
"Be safe up there Shadow," phoenix said, giving you, her friend and flat-mate a squeeze on the shoulder, "I wanna see you for drinks later tonight."
You grinned, "Count me in."
...
At the flight depot, you saw your boyfriend rooster standing there, all suited up in his flight gear which was identical to yours. "Hi," you said, walking over, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Hey," he said, putting his arm around you, grinning at your sight, "Going up soon?" he asked.
You nodded, taking your aviators from the pocket of your t-shirt and putting them properly on, "I'm doing the flight by point Loma today, then the circle loop around generals bay."
Rooster nodded, "I was out early this morning, so its just a fun afternoon of paperwork for me," he smirked.
"I'm thinking about trying a new maneuver," you said brightly.
Rooster shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, "God," he sighed, rolling his eyes as he laughed, "You and your crazy stunts. Your just like maverick!"
You laughed, "well, he was one of my first instructors!"
The clock on the wall read 5:35, it was time to get going, after all, you had booked the 5:45 flight slot.
"I gotta go babe," you said, squeezing roosters shoulder, "Listen for me on the radio if you'd like. It might make your paperwork more interesting!"
Rooster always listened to the radio when you were up in the air. Even before the two of you begun dating, rooster always listened to the radios, back at top gun, even back in flight school where the two of you had first met.
One day in the cafeteria when you were trying to buy a protein bar from the vending machine, the machine wouldn't take your quarters, and lucky for you, rooster was behind you and offered his one dollar bills instead. He got you the snack and instead of taking your change like you had insisted, he opted to hear about the cobra maneuver - which you had just tried the day before, and nearly succeeded - instead.
The two of you became friends and one night at the bar, a drunken almost-kiss lead for unfamiliar feelings for the both of you, which you were forced to face the next day in class when you were assigned a task together.
"About last night," rooster had said, stopping in the corridor outside the classroom, "I'm not sure how you felt about that, but um," he paused, unsure of what to say next.
But then you and your smart mouth interjected, "I like you too rooster."
The two of you had laughed and then arranged a date, and since then, the two of you - despite the jobs taking place an oceans away- have remained close and very much in love.
"Just, be safe up there," rooster said, kissing your temple, "alright?"
You gave him a nod, "You got it lieutenant Bradshaw!"
After doing all of the necessary and required pre-flight checks, the sound of your f-18 roaring to life was like music to your ears. Although, it was a rather gruff sound, that at times could be quite gruelling to listen to due to the power of the dual engines, but it served as a reminder of how hard you had worked to find your place as a naval aviator. Another reminder, one that made you incredibly pleased, was the sticker bearing your name "y/n "Shadow" y/l/n" beneath the canopy that you grinned at each time you stepped into your aircraft.
It wasn't always the easiest thing being a female in a male-dominated career, but your name on this lustrous aircraft proved it was all worth it, now if only the pricks who thought that you didn't belong could agree. The hurtful truth is that no matter how far you got in the navy, there would always be one person with a snide remark for you, always one who would choose to loathe you based on your gender, always one who would go out of their way to make you feel as if you didn't belong. It was hard at first, but after you got a feel for who supported you, and wanted you to succeed, work was more enjoyable than it had been before.
A woman's voice from the tower filled your ears; those four little words that made your heart swell, "All go for takeoff." And with a big groan of force courtesy of the throttle, you were barreling fast and hard down the runway, and before you knew it, you were up in sky, pulling 3g's right off the get go.
The gravitational force sent you back into your seat, a feeling that excited you although you were used to by now. You remembered at first, when you were learning how to fly, the feeling that would accompany takeoff. The feeling that your eyes were going to fall back into your head, and that your legs were being pushed away behind you. The coat of sweat and the tremors that would accompany the first pull into the sky. From time to time, you still found yourself getting nervous, but the more that you thought about being up in the sky, the less the impending thoughts seemed to bother you.
The sky seemed especially blue today, and the clouds were few but gorgeous. "On your six Shadow," Payback said through the microphone, singling that he was behind you as expected.
Usually, when you were just going up for a flight, the commander would send another jet, just to have two eyes and ears checking out the sky. You weren't looking for anything in particular but instead just practicing and maintaining your flight techniques. Today, your wingman was Payback, and his wso, Fanboy.
"Copy payback," you said, turning in your seat, glancing back at the fellow f-18 behind you.
"On the way back, theres something I want to try," you said, grinning.
In the other jet, coyote was shaking his head and payback was smirking, "Another one of your stunts shadow?" he asked lightly.
"Affirmative," you replied, now soaring over point Loma.
"Hey," payback begun, "at least its us and not Yale and Juno flying with you today. They hate that sort of stuff."
"Not us though," payback said, giving you his support, "we love the show!"
"why are you waiting until the end?" fanboy asked, clipping on his mask into the side of his helmet.
Good question? why am I waiting until the end of the flight to do my trick?
"How about I do it at generals bay?" you asked, "Give the people on the beach a bit of a show?"
Payback laughed, "No one flys like you do Shadow."
Generals bay approached quicker than you had expected, and a glaze of sweat was beginning to coax your brow. You felt the sweat along the back of your neck, the wispy ends of your bun messily tangled in your helmet. God, its hot today.
You made the loop around the point, and on your way back north, payback and fanboy flew up beside you. "The stage is all yours Shadow," payback said, fanboy in the back giving you a hearty thumbs up.
The 'stage' or in this case, the clear clear almost-evening sky, was wide open for you, ready for your stunt.
So, giving the jet just a bit more gas, pulling the throttle back ever so slightly, you climbed higher in the sky, and then once at your satisfied altitude, you tilted the front of your jet to a near vertical descent, the water looking very blue beneath you.
You felt yourself catch on the straps of your seat belt as your altitude began to drop, now it was time for the main attraction.
Plummeting towards the ground, you manoeuvred the jet in a spiral pattern, resembling a corkscrew type of wave, moving the control so the spiral turns would pull even more g's than usual. A wave of thrill rushed over you as you approached the earth, the altitude giving you a play by play, each number being read aloud by the automated voice, "15,000, 14,000, 13,000."
When the automated voice screeched that you were around 7,000 feet, you pulled up, but not in the traditional sense. You levelled off your jet to go at a straight line, but however, you were inverted, still facing the ground, the blood rushing to your head, a feeling you thrived to feel when upside down in a jet. At first it was disorienting, but after your third and fourth time upside down, you get used to it.
"How was that boys?" you asked your wingmen, "Like the inverted flying?"
Payback hollered into the radio and fanboy laughed. "There's no one who flys like you y/n," said fanboy.
"Well, maybe except mav!" Payback said.
"One last thing," you said, puling the jet up, now you were going sparing into the sky, speeding beside the other f-18, making payback grip the controls just a bit firmer than he had before.
"What the hell!" Fanboy shouted, but you could tell he wasn't mad, due to his laughter.
You brought the jet just a bit higher and then did a sort of loop in the sky, one that was quick in speed with high velocity. As you completed the loop, going upside down, facing the ocean for the third time today you felt a rush of adrenaline pump through your veins.
As you were finishing off the the loop, a light began to flash on the dashboard at a rapid pace, "left engine." Then a god awful noise, that started off as a murmur, but grew into something loud and rumbling came from the back of the plane. "Payback," you said clearly through the radio, "There's something wrong with one of the engines!"
And just as you were levelling off, the radio made a loud shrill and then a crackling pop, and radio silence filled your helmet. You tired turning it back on, playing with the main radio in the jet, but it was no use, the light for the radio was dead.
"Fuck," you said aloud, the sweat coming hot and fast, making a glossy film over your skin, "I've gotta get back."
Noticing the check-engine light for the left side was flashing more rapidly now, you did what you were taught, and attempted to re-generate it, in hopes of it turning back on. At first, there was some hope, and that same gurgling sound from the back of the jet, but then a cloud of smoke was released into the sky, and you knew that your left engine would likely not turn back on.
Without dual engines, it was rather difficult to keep up with payback and fanboy, who were now long ahead. Even as you followed them from behind, you found it difficult to keep an eye on them as they barrelled along the pattern.
You tried another switch on the dashboard to try to get the radio back on, and for a second it worked, and you were able to scream out, "Request to land immediately, mayday, mayday," but with the static cutting in and out, it was hard to tell what the people in the tower could hear. As you tried again, flipping the switch, the lights on the dash all went dim, something was seriously wrong with your jet.
"No, no, no, no, no," you repeated to yourself as you tried any switch that would flip.
Back at the base, after hearing the stunt play out through the radio, rooster had attracted quite the crowd in the office room. A terrible feeling filled his head, and his heart was pounding once he heard the radio fall silent on your behalf. "y/n!" he said, grabbing the small box in-between both hands, and then he took off into the flight depot, to go find a commander.
On his way there, he ran into maverick, who was alarmed to see him pass by in such an alarmed state. "Rooster?" he asked, seeing him run by in a blur, "What's going on?"
Rooster stopped hastily, looking at the captain with wide, scattered eyes that couldn't seem to focus on anything in particular. Beads of sweat on his forehead, and that same nervous look on his face that presented itself every so often when rooster was particularly stressed or anxious.
Maverick recalled when Bradley was young, that same look - the one with the slightly raised brow and tucked lips, and trembling eyes that always seemed to drift from surface to surface - that usually seemed to present itself before a major baseball game or right before a math test that he hadn't studied for. Even after all of these years, whenever rooster was distraught, he still looked at him with those same wondering eyes as when he was a child.
"Its y/n!" Bradley said, "She did some stunt and theres a problem with her engine. We've lost all contact with her. No one knows where she is."
"But weren't payback and fanboy up there with her?" he asked.
"Yeah, but last I heard, they were ordered to land immediately," Bradly said, looking around for a commander or admiral, anyone with power who could help with the matter.
Then in the corner, the short greying commander Hinton, was sipping his evening coffee. "Commander Hinton!" Bradley shouted, running over to the old man, maverick following suit.
As Bradley begun to speak, his words coming out all slurred and jumbled, Commander Hinton hushed him, "Lieutenant," he said calmly, but when rooster carried on, telling him things he already knew, Hinton said it more harshly, "Lieutenant!" which made the pilot straighten his posture and take a step back beside maverick.
"All we can do is wait and see if she makes it back," the commander said dryly, leaving maverick to chase after rooster who was already in the process of running towards the airstrip.
...
There it was, the runway, the one you were incredibly glad to see, thankful that you were paying attention during takeoff to remember where you were scheduled to land.
The sky was now glowing in hues of golden orange, a heavenly shade of the tropics that you rarely got the chance to fly in. Usually, after a day of flying, the last thing you wanted to do was land, but tonight, after the flight you've had, you were more than relieved to see the landing strip.
The lights on the tarmac were flashing in a particular sequence, showing you where to go and when to do it. Having no radio connection to the tower made it tricky to land. You mainly were worried about another jet trying to land at the same time as you were, but when you finally touched down and parked in your designated stall, you could finally breathe.
You opened the canopy and descended the steps. Taking your first few steps on the concrete, your legs felt wobbly and unsure as you removed your helmet, setting it below the leg of your aircraft. A sigh escaped your lips, you were finally back down on earth.
From the main building, you could see rooster running out towards you at a rapid pace, his dark hair blowing in the wind, and the gorgeous night time sun reflecting on his skin. God, he's so handsome.
Approaching you, rooster's sprint slowed down to a jog and then later an abrupt halt, gasping for air, looking at you with his foggy eyes, displaying an unreadable emotion.
"What the hell was that?" he gasped in an distraught tone.
Rooster rarely raised his voice, especially at you, what was the matter with him? did something happen while I was up in the sky?
"What do you mean?" you replied firmly, "I landed the jet like normal!"
Rooster grunted, pinching that spot at the base of his neck that always seemed to collect stress, his arms flexing tightly in his black t-shirt. "No, y/n," he spat, "That stunt. What the fuck was that! You disappeared from the radio!"
The force of the moment found its way into your veins, making your chest feel tight and head growing hazy. You rolled your eyes, taking a step towards your boyfriend, "God rooster, I had it all under control."
A stout laugh escaped his lips, "Did you?" he hissed.
"Yes Bradley, I did!" you replied harshly, "I value my plane very much, and I took every precaution necessary to land safely!"
"You and your stunts," rooster said hotly, shaking his head, "You're so reckless, do you know that?!" Now he was staring at you, intensely, urgently, his eyes were pressed to yours.
You nodded, stepping forward's rooster, "Yeah, I do! But I don't know why you're so mad at me?"
Rooster stepped back, letting a breath escape his lips, his face red and blotchy from anger, "Fuck y/n," he said angrily, "You could have fucking died up there!"
"But I didn't. I didn't die, and I'm right here on the landing strip fighting with you."
"God shadow," rooster said, calling you by your call sign, still fuming, although now more relaxed, "What the hell would have happened if we were married? Your decisions could have killed you."
married? hold on a minute, what did he just say?
"Married?!" you shouted, arms flailing in the air, "What the hell are you talking about rooster?"
Arms shaking, rooster shoved his hand into the pocket of his dark green trousers and pulled out a small blue box - a ring box. He opened it, flipping the top up with his opposite hand, showing it to you, "This, y/n!" he shouted, showing you the gold ring he had picked out last month, "I was going to propose tonight!" he said urgently.
You looked at rooster with quiet eyes, not making a sound, your mouth falling open from the shock of it all. did rooster just say that he was going to propose?
Your eyes scattered down to the ring box, how it was held gently in roosters strong hands. "Rooster," you said gently, "You were going to ask me to marry you?"
Rooster nodded, closing the box, "Yeah. I had it all planned out. We were going to walk down to the beach and just as the sun was about to set, maverick was going to do a fly-by in his p-51, and," he paused shutting his eyes, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that stuff to you. God, I've just been so fucking nervous lately."
You took a step forward, taking one of roosters hands gently in yours, "Rooster," you spoke, voice trembling, "I'm sorry for what I said."
He shook his head, "don't be, I overreacted. I shouldn't have said what I did."
"No," you said, "I should be more careful, and I'm glad you care enough to tell me that. I did over-do it tonight."
"This whole thing was a disaster," Bradley said, looking down at the box.
"You really meant what you said?" you asked, "You wanted to marry me?"
Rooster looked up, meeting your eyes, "I want to marry you y/n."
He held your hands in his, "I want to know what its like to wake up with you beside me every day of my life. I want to spend all of my time with you y/n, because I love you, every part of you, even your reckless stunts!"
"You're the most important person to me, and I don't want to loose you," he said, eyes misty, looking at you, only you.
If rooster wouldn't have brought his hand up to the side of your cheek to wipe the tears streaming down your face, you wouldn't have realized that you were crying. God, you of all people, didn't think you would be capable of crying at your own proposal.
"What are you saying rooster?" you asked, smiling gently, already sure you knew what he was going to say next.
"I'm asking, shadow," Bradley said, grinning, "Will you marry me?"
As another fat tear rolled down your cheek, a smile spread across your face. You nodded, throwing your arms around Bradley, "Yes. I would love to marry you!"
It felt so good to have your boyfriend's, fiancé's arms around you, his hands on your back holding you tightly towards his body. You were consumed by his scent, the way it filled your head and suddenly brought you home. You loved the way strong arms were holding you, and the way he smiled into your hair. "I love you," he whispered into your ear.
"I love you too," you repeated, your tears getting sopped up in rooster's tee-shirt.
You looked to rooster with eyes of salt, and brought your lips up to his. And there the two of you stood on the tarmac, kissing. The kiss was long and slow and made electricity buzz through your veins in a sweet low tone. No matter how many times he had kissed you, each time it felt new and entrancing.
When you broke the kiss, Bradley brought back out the ring box, concentrating with tears in his eyes, as he took the gold band out of the tan cushion it was held in. You held out your your hand, wriggling your wedding finger as rooster shakily slid the band up and over your knuckle. It was a perfect fit, it was made exactly for you.
You held your hand closer to your face and looked at the ring. The diamond shone brightly in the evening sun, and it looked gorgeous on your hand, nearly too beautiful to belong to a fighter pilot!
You grinned brightly at rooster, looking up from the ring, "I can't believe we're engaged," you said, looking around, the moment finally setting in, "Oh my god! we're engaged!" you screamed.
Bradley grinned, picking you up in his arms, which earned a squeal from you, "Bradley! Put me down!" you laughed to your fiancé who was carrying you towards the flight depot, one arm supporting your back, the other beneath your legs. As Bradley waded forward, the two of you couldn't stop grinning and gazing at one another.
Under one of the canopies where rooster had carried you to, all of your friends (that were pilots and wso's) were there, clapping and cheering for you.
Rooster set you down, and then put his arms around you, brining you into a hug from behind. "Everyone," he said to the other pilots and crew, gathering their attention, "We have something exciting to tell you!"
You grinned, looking up at Bradley, who'e eyes were beaming, "I think they already know rooster!"
"You guys are getting married!" phoenix said excitedly, bring you in for an an embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around your torso.
"We saw the whole thing go down on the tarmac," bob said, giving rooster a pat on the shoulder, "Congratulations!"
Just as you were showing your colleagues the gorgeous band that rooster had picked out especially for you, there was a loud noise in the sky. You looked up, it was a jet!
Up in the sky, one of the f-18's was doing a fly-by, soaring loudly and quickly over the depot. You looked to rooster and exchanged a glance, "Maverick," you agreed.
I guess part of rooster's plan did go as expected, it was during the hours of sunset, and maverick flew overhead, although it wasn't his stunning p-51 and just an ordinary f-18, the moment was perfect, and you were one step closer to spending the rest of your life with the most important and wonderful person, rooster, the love of your life.
#top gun#top gun: maverick#top gun maverick#rooster#bradley rooster bradshaw#maverick#pete maverick mitchell#phoenix#bob x phoenix#rooster x reader#Bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#top gun maverick x reader#tgm#tgm spoilers#female pilots#badass stunts#miles teller#miles teller x reader#rooster and maverick own my heart
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and then you showed up.
pairing: miguel o'hara x spider-person!reader (intended to be afab, but there's no description of the reader :3)
summary: your getting used to working with the spider society, until you find out something miguel has been keeping from you.
warnings: more angst, mention of character death but no description, miguel being his normal self, feels, no use of y/n
word count: 756
note: well, it's the long awaited part two! only three people asked for this, but i've had part of this written for awhile. enjoy!
since joining the spider society, life had been great for you. it helped take your mind off of life, helped you put your energy into something good.
you, of course, knew about miguel’s mission: protect the canon. you only ever saw him when he sent you on missions and during mission reports, which helped your grief. you were still getting used to him being another version of your late fiance.
even though a year had passed since you joined, it hadn’t gotten any easier seeing him. but you had made plenty of other friends. jess was one of the people you were closest to. she gave great advice, for missions and regular life. like an older sister. but there were times she said things you were sure had been meant to stay secret.
“you know, miguel was the one who chose you. i didn’t have to beg him to recruit you,” she said as she took a sip of her water. the both of you were relaxing in the cafeteria.
“really?” you weren’t sure why, but that surprised you. he often acted like you were a nuisance.
jess shrugged. “yeah, i guess he felt bad about what happened with your fiance. canon event aside.”
you paused, your brows furrowing. “wait, what do you mean?” but you didn’t need her to answer. you had a feeling you understood well enough what she meant. you excused yourself and quickly made your way out of the cafeteria.
—
"you knew?!"
"have fun dealing with that," lyla told him as you stormed into his office, blipping out of sight. miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose but didn't turn to face you.
"i'm busy. can we please deal with whatever you're upset about at a later time?"
but you didn't leave. you didn't turn, grumbling about how he was always busy, always working. you used your webs to catapult yourself up to his platform desk and shoved him.
"hey, what the-"
"you knew he was going to die and you didn't do anything to stop it?" you were seeing red, not just because of the lighting in his office. you were angry, livid. and despite the fact that miguel looked like your late fiancé, you wanted to hurt him.
miguel turned to face you but you didn't cower, didn't back down. even though he looked terrifying. "it was a canon event, i couldn't interfere." he said it with such little emotion, such a stoic face, that it pissed you off even more.
"canon ev-" you cut yourself off, letting out a laugh of disbelief. "he was you! the love of my life that i watched die with my own eyes. in my arms." you had started poking his chest with every word. "all because of your stupid fucking mission to keep the multiverse safe?"
"it was one person over bill-"
you let out another laugh, taking a step back as you put your hands on either side of your temple. "oh, fuck you, miguel. you don't care about anyone but yourself and your fucked up mission." you wanted to hit something, you wanted to hit him.
so you lunged for him. he stepped to the side and you nearly face planted into the console table. you turned, ready to punch him and he caught your wrist.
"fighting me won't bring him back. he wouldn't want you to be angry, he was fine with the way he went."
"don't talk about him like you know him! he would've wanted to live. to get married, have a kid." you fought against him, trying to get yourself out of his grasp. "grow old with someone he loved. you don't-" when had you started crying? your struggling slowed to a stop as you hung your head, your shoulders shaking slightly from your sobs. "you don't get it. the wedding was two months away. i lost everything."
he dropped your hand and you took a step back, wiping the tears off your face. "and then you showed up and i thought-"
"in another life, maybe." your gaze shot up at his murmur and you took a few stumbled steps back. the realization hit you. not only did he know, he watched. he watched the fight against the vulture. he watched you finding him. he watched your heartbreak and your anger. he watched everything. and he didn't tell you.
"you. . . i can't do this." you had to leave before you broke entirely. you turned, using your webbing to drop yourself from the platform.
and you left.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara fanfiction#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara drabble
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To be so lonely
TBSL is a drunk phone call with regret for how a relationship turned out. It has similarities to Say don’t go and Ready for it. Harry said (10:30) it was written in Bath. He said it was one of his favourites and a shame that people shout arrogant SOB at him. I love him so much:
youtube
Arrogant son of a bitch
Arrogant SOB is a quote from this Notebook scene. It's a vulnerable, honest line from a hopeless romantic's favourite movie. Why would people scream it at him? Only played at 12 shows.
youtube
Timeline
Harry wrote Fine Line in the first half 2018 and Cherry and Falling mid-year.
In October - January he was in Japan. The last Reputation show was in Tokyo in November. He wrote Little Freak & Ophelia then.
Taylor went back to the UK with Joe, In February she and Joe went to the Spaniards Inn (aka Harry's local) and she released Me!
To be so lonely is a drunk phone call when he is back in England around June 2019. (see also 2018-2020 and Fine line timelines
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Don't blame me for falling
I was just a little boy
Don’t blame the drunk caller
Wasn't ready for it all
The first verse is clear that he's calling taylor:
‘Don't blame him for falling’ has a layered meaning, falling in love in the 1989 TV era (the irony now with vaults), falling off the friendship fine line (also in Daylight) and now falling into depression as in Falling.
He was just a little boy refers to his immaturity in the 1989 TV era, as detailed in Say don't go.
he responds to Taylor’s vengeful open to the Reputation tour and album: "Are you Ready for it.." with a soft gentle 'I wasn't ready at all'. This is layered, he wasn't ready to date an adult, for the fame, to be there for her insecurities in Slut and Say don’t go or to loose that love then or now.
[Pre-Chorus]
You can't blame me, darling
Not even a little bit, I was away
And I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch
Who can't admit when he's sorry
He's feeling sorry for himself, reflecting on having been emotionally numb when they dated (I was away). To Howard Stern he said every decision he’d made from 16 to 22 was as part of a group, going to therapy and working through his thoughts at that time.
the arrogant SOB line reminds us he is a gentle soul, he is sorry, he has done the work and can now see the effect he had on her. I love that line and wish people didn’t yell it.
he’s sorry, but as an arrogant sob that’s hard
[Chorus]
Don't call me "baby" again, you got your reasons
I know that you're tryna be friends, I know you mean it
Don't call me "baby" again, it's hard for me to go home
Be so lonely
Harry asked his muse to not call him baby, because he’s not with them. They are trying to be friends despite chemistry, they crossed the fine line of friendship and he’s drunk calling lonely that his beloved is not with him.
In Taylor’s later track, illicit affairs she has a similar line “And you wanna scream / Don't call me "kid" / Don't call me "baby" / Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me / You showed me colors / You know I can't see with anyone else”
He closes that it’s hard for him to be so lonely, it seems his beloved is not lonely because they are not single
[Verse 2]
I just hope you see me in a little better light
Do you think it's easy being of the jealous kind?
’Cause I miss the shape of your lips
You’ll win, it's just a trick
And this is it, so I’m sorry
He and this person have history, he wants to right. Little Freak “never saw his birthmark” is similar to me, Harry feels like Taylor did not get to see the real him, he was a little boy who wasn’t ready for it all. He regrets how things turned out and how she sees him.
He misses the shape of her lips, (red lips in style and two ghosts) in a leaked “I just wanna love you” he sang “'Cause I just wanna kiss you / And that's never gonna change / At least I'm honest with you, babe”
He’s jealous she’s with someone else, wishes they were together. He agrees it’s just a trick to get her attention, and he’s sorry.
[Bridge]
And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch
Who can't admit when he's sorry
[Chorus]
Don't call me "baby" again, you got your reasons
I know that you're tryna be friends, I know you mean it
Don't call me "baby" again, it's hard for me to go home
Be so lonely
To be so lonely x5
:( he’s sad for how it ended, misses her
sees she wants to be friends but he can’t cope if she calls him baby because he wants her. Taylor has a similar sentiment “ Now that we don’t talk “Truth is, I can't pretend it's / Platonic, it's just ended, so”
She’s in a relationship and he wants to be with her.
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i’ve seen your fic about reader giving gojo the silent treatment and i loved it! 😭 what about making one if it was the other way around? ive seen many fics where its yn giving the silent treatment but what if you did something that made gojo mad and he’s the one who’s giving the silent treatment? tbh i’d be so sad if he was mad at me! 😭
midnight blues┆gojo satoru
୧ genre: angst, fluff ending
୧ wc: 1,700+
୧ synopsis: you never expected to receive the silent treatment from gojo, and it's one of the worst heartaches you can ever experience.
a/n: thank you so much! it really surprised me how many people ended up liking that one, and I hope you'll enjoy this one too! omg I would literally sob if I made gojo mad and will never be able to move on from the experience
Several hours have passed since Gojo departed from your home in a huff, and you wished that you had realized he was already in a sour mood dealing with the higher-ups regarding Yuuji's execution and general happenings in the Jujutsu society. He was coming home from one of those days where everything was hectic, irritable, and stressful and he wants nothing more than to return back to a serene space where he doesn't have to think about anything. At least, for a little while.
You never liked the term nagging, but after moving in together for months now you often have to remind him to be more respectful toward your shared home. "Hey honey, do you mind taking off your shoes so you don't track in even more dirt?" He had a tendency to walk around your home in his outdoor shoes and even sometimes wearing them on the bed to leave crumbs and debris all over the comforter. It's not always pleasant having to be conscious wondering if he left anything behind the next time you slip between the sheets or walk around barefoot, and it's one of his bad habits that you've been trying to fix.
Gojo's lanky body that's already plopped on the couch loosens his shoes with his feet and it drops to the floor with a soft thud. Your brows furrow in discontentment and your coarse tone makes his face twitch, and even though he's not able to see your body language with his arm thrown over his eyes he can sense that you're crossing your arms at him. "Seriously, Satoru? You know that wasn't what I meant."
His teeth clench and grit together in silent annoyance, and his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose together before his hands gesture loudly in the air as you're going on your spiel about shoe etiquette. "Fuck Y/N- can I have one minute of quiet in my own home and not have you nagging my ear off." He sighs exasperatedly, the patience he had was already running thin and he didn't have the energy to deal with your complaints either.
"W-what? I just told you to pick up after yourself, why are you getting irrationally angry at me?" You bite the inside of your cheek because he never cursed at you before, even if he didn't truly mean his words you're unable to dismiss it and a stinging pain spreads across your chest. It feels like hard lumps of ice are being formed in your throat and you hate everything about this because you weren't trying to argue with him.
"Now you're just being so fucking annoying... I'd ask you to piss off but you can't even leave the room fast enough." He straightens himself from the couch and bends over to grab the shoes that you're so bothered by and heads for the front door. He doesn't even spare you a glance because the last thing he needed was for someone to criticize him over something so insignificant when he has more important things to worry about. You couldn't even sputter out another remark before he abruptly tells you, "I'm heading out. Don't wait up for me."
After he slams the door shut and leaves you alone in the deafening silence, you couldn't even properly process what just happened 一 was that really the Gojo Satoru you knew and loved? You never imagined him saying something like that in all the years you've known him. You wished you could've taken back your words instead of opening your stupid mouth about your dumb, little pet peeves when you should've noticed that your boyfriend was coping with the presumably dreadful day he's had.
The bitter and cruel world was always fighting against him one way or another and you feel terrible that you weren't there to support him. You should've quietly taken his shoes off and kissed his forehead to remind him that you're there for him, and you were a little too late to know that now. Even you sometimes forget that the great Gojo Satoru can have his bad days too, and one seemingly small and tiny inconvenience atop of everything else can cause him to lose his cool as a result.
Gojo arrives back home just after the stroke of midnight and pushes past through the threshold expecting to be greeted with darkness, but there's a light in the kitchen as you're adding the finishing touches of the icing on the strawberry lunchbox cake to make it up to him. It's minimalistic and single-serving friendly enough that you wouldn't have to worry about having too much leftover dessert while satisfying your favorite shaman's sweet tooth. But most importantly, you hope that he'll accept it as a heartfelt form of apology.
You're unaware of how long he's been standing there watching you earnestly until you glance up and meet his visage. The corners of your mouth quirk upward into a smile that seems a little forced, yet honest in the way that you're relieved to see that he returned home. "W-welcome home, Satoru. I should've asked how your day was before I bugged you about something so silly. You might've had quite a long day or maybe something happened so I wanted to surprise you by baking your favorite cake. It's not much, but it's the least I could do."
The silence weighs heavily in the air. You're growing anxious each passing second he doesn't respond and your stomach starts to churn while your palms sweat under his gaze. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears and then comes the snapping of the strings as he takes one step away and another going towards your shared bedroom. You never felt so crestfallen and defeated as you're standing there rigid with his broad back facing toward you.
"Ohh.. Okay I'll just, um, save this for you tomorrow."
Not a moment later and you can hear the shower running, and you can't help but think to yourself... what if he hates you now? You attempt to choke back the tears welling up and failing miserably as a droplet cascades down your cheek. The feeling of your ribcage caving into itself while your heart sinks slowly doesn't completely go away as you try to convince yourself that it's just another rough patch in your relationship and you'll both eventually move past this.
Nearly an hour goes by until you're finished cleaning up, and you spent most of that time trying to understand what's going through Gojo's mind and if you should reside on the couch for tonight so you wouldn't upset him further. You're more than positive that he's fast asleep on his side of the mattress as you retrieve a spare pillow and blanket from the linen closet to prepare your make-shift bed on the couch. You considered peering inside and checking up on your boyfriend, but you didn't want to risk waking him had the hinges on the door squeaked unfavorably.
Time seems to move slower once you're comfortably situated flat on your back and staring at the ceiling because you seem to be having troubled sleep. You've been tossing and turning for every time you check your phone for no particular reason, and you've never been much of an insomniac either. For some reason, it feels almost wrong that Gojo and you are sleeping in separate rooms when he's not somewhere overseas for an assigned exorcism of special grade curses.
Your drowsy eyes kept fluttering open and closed for some time now, and you were just barely able to catch an ounce of sleep before you feel a weight dip beside you and strong, familiar arms wrap around your middle. Gojo carefully closes the gap between you and him without causing too much movement and he appreciates your taste in furniture as you chose a couch that's spacious enough to fit the both of you. "Hmm, Satoru? What are you- I thought you wanted to be alone?" You whisper softly after registering his warm touch on your skin, and you shift your position so that you're now facing him.
His cerulean hues bore into you before he gently shakes his head, and he nuzzles into the crook of your neck inhaling your peach blossom scent. "I never heard you come in." He confesses, busying himself as his fingertips fiddle with your top and then drawing small circles on your hip after slipping his hand just a shy underneath it. "Did I mess things up between us? I shouldn't have taken it out on you back there... it's those old fuckers that got to me. Forgive me, angel? I promise I'll be better next time, so please? I don't wanna lose you... You're everything to me. I love you so much, you have no idea."
"Will you look at me, baby? You won't lose me over something like this." Your fingers thread through his silver tendrils and Gojo does as he's told. Baby, he already feels warm just from that term of endearment alone. Staring into the blues of his eyes felt like warm healing rain falling down onto your heart, and you can tell it has the same effect on him as he's sharing your fond gaze. All that constant overthinking and worrying dissipates once the misunderstandings have been resolved and you feel the weight of a thousand bricks on your chest being lifted.
"There's honestly nothing to be sorry about, I can understand why you reacted that way. You're human and can only take so much so don't be too hard on yourself." You tenderly cup his cheek and he eases into the warmth of your palm, a thumb sweeps across his cheekbone and he breathes a content sigh. "I didn't notice sooner that you weren't being yourself and I should've been there for you when you needed me, so I am sorry for that. I love you so much too, I'm willing to put this behind us if you are."
"Yeah, sounds good." He murmurs as his eyelids begin to grow heavy, a soft simper making its way to his face and he presses a gentle kiss against your lips. You speculate that he wasn't able to fall asleep this entire time either without holding each other like this with legs touching or intertwined, and you're reminded of how good you two have it with the unconditional and boundless love reserved for one another at the end of each day. "As they usually say, let bygones be bygones."
#some bonus crumbs : gojo drools over the cake you made specially for him in his dream and it's what he has for breakfast 🤍#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru#gojo satoru imagines#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Hello!! I've got a request for you, although it might be kind of on the...melancholic side.
If you don't feel comfortable writing it, it's totally okay.
Could I request the Riddlers' reaction to seeing the Reader while they're very sad? Crying, even? They're devoid of hope, they've got lifeless eyes filled with tears, and they're just about ready to give up on everything. They've probably isolated themself somewhere, too. Like their car, a cliff near the seaside, or the rooftop of a building, to break down in a fit of despair.
(i'm okay, i promise!! i was just in the mood for something kind of angsty and hopefully a bit of comfort, as well?)
Riddler Headcanons: Comfort and Angst
Riddlers x Sad!Reader, headcanons/ficlets
ok i'm so glad you let me know you're alright because i was about to send like the coast guard to you or something to make sure you were fine >:(
i was so happy to write this, i want to delve into more fluff and angst just to see if i'm any good at it, so this was a perfect opportunity and i hope it was ok!
request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi
minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: none just all fluffy and soft
Dano
he's so worried when he can't find you, but he figures he knows where you are. he makes it to your favourite place, under the bridge, knowing you well enough to hazard a guess that's where you might have gone. he doesn't say anything, just sits down beside you on the bench you go to when you need a moment. he doesn't have the right words anyway, he wouldn't want to make things worse. instead, he's happy to put his arm around you and let you rest your head on his shoulder, stroking your arm while you let your tears out. when he finds the courage to speak, his words fill you with comfort, covering you like a safety blanket. "everything will be ok, i'll make everything better for you. the world won't be as scary with me around."
Arkham
ok so you've locked yourself in one of the rooms in his lair, what is that going to achieve? if you're sad, why would you ever want to be away from him? and if you won't come out that's fine, he can be stubborn too! he'll just sit outside this door waiting for you to finish what you're doing so you can get back to your job. but his grumpy shell will break instantly when he can hear you crying through the wall, listening for a bit and trying to figure out what the best course of action is before telling you a riddle to cheer you up. "i can cry but i have no eyes, can fly but i have no wings...what am i?" he reassures you that whenever you want to come out, he'll be right there. take as much time as you need. but don't be much longer because he has work to do. "i'm kidding! well...only kind of..."
Capullo
you're being very dramatic, look at him, he's never cried, at least not that he remembers! and he's perfectly normal and well-adjusted and handsome. "don't cry please god i don't know what to do when someone cries...i can't think you're hot when you're upset and that's unfair." give him credit though, when he realised his usual brand of sleaze and tough love weren't working, he did move behind you to rub your shoulders, only having to be told once that now wasn't the time to press himself against you and kiss your neck. "ok cancel all of my schemes for the day, top priority is to get you back to your usual self, because if i'm not allowed to objectify you and touch you then what is the point?" it's crude, but it gives him an excuse to drop the act and let himself take care of you properly. you didn't even know he had it in him, but here he is, wrapping you in blankets and ordering your favourite takeout. who is this man? it's kind of weird actually...
Young Justice
by the time he's found you, you're done crying. sitting on a ledge on the roof of your apartment building, tears have left little streaks on your face and your eyes are red and watery, but you're past the sobbing. taking a bit gulp and a deep breath he comes and sits next to you. "i recognise you're in the acceptance phase now. whatever it was, you're past it now. i know the feeling. i'm here for your next steps though." he takes your hand in his and stares out over the city with you. "no one knows better than me how tough it is to keep going, but we've got this together!" he squeezes your hand tighter. "but please can we go somewhere safer, i really don't like heights..." it kicks you into protect mode, pulling you out of your sadness even briefly. he's a good distraction from your worries.
Gotham
guess who found their way to the docks and is literally running on his stupid long legs to get to you, standing on the edge of the pier with your back turned to the world. when you turn around, tears spilling down your face, he holds you in his arms. "crying won't solve anything. who hurt you? let's plan revenge." you assure him no one is responsible, it's just a feeling, emotions, your own body and brain are responsible you guess. "i understand that. we're out own worst enemies." although ed leaned into his worst enemy a bit more readily than you're willing to..."please, come with me and let me take care of you." and without much argument you're in his bed, wrapped in a blanket, being served soup and tea and listening to him play the piano. he keeps telling you he likes to feel useful, but you know you're there so he doesn't lose you again. it was nice of him not to handcuff you or drug you though!
#finnie writes#riddler#the riddler#batman#riddler imagine#the riddler imagine#riddler smut#fanfic#the riddler fanfic#riddler fanfic#riddler x reader#riddler x you#riddler headcanon#ridler scenario#the riddler headcanon#gotham riddler#gotham#the batman#arkham riddler#young justice riddler#dano riddler#zero year riddler#q
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