#I’m not staying here for the rest of my life
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greengoblinswifey · 2 days ago
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Game of Fate—Hwang In-ho/Front Man x Fem!Reader
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summary— After discovering that you, a girl he had a one night stand with entered the deadly games, the Front man disguised as a player 001, infiltrates the games under the guise of monitoring Gi-hun but his focus becomes protecting you at all costs. based on this request.
warnings— none! fluff undertones, slight angst, season 2 spoilers, usual squid game chaos, in-ho being protective and possessive(he has a heart) <3
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In-ho sat in his private quarters, the screens in front of him displaying the death and desperation of the games. His attention drifted from one player to the next until his eyes fell on you. A bolt of recognition shot through him. It was you, his one night stand from years ago, someone who had left a mark on him in ways he hadn’t expected.
He remembered every detail about you, your wit, your boldness, and the way you made him feel alive, even if just for one night. It infuriated him to see other players whispering in your ear or lingering too long in your space. His possessiveness surprised even him. You had been the best fuck he ever had, and seeing you here now stirred something he couldn’t ignore.
That’s when he made a decision.
By the time you met “Young-il,” the newest player in the games, you couldn’t place why he seemed familiar. His face was shadowed by the chaos of your surroundings, and you had no time to dwell on it.
“You,” he said, approaching you during a moment of uneasy rest.
Your eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”
“You could say that,” have a sly smile, “Call me Young-il.”
You tilted your head, trying to recall where you might have met him. There was something about him, his confidence, his presence, that struck something. Still, you shrugged it off. “Okay, Young-il. Hope you know what you’re doing here.”
“I’m sure I’ll manage.”
You didn’t realize he was watching your every move.
During one of the more grueling games, you faltered. The sound of gunfire rang out as players dropped like flies, and your heart pounded. You’d made a critical mistake, one that should have cost you your life.
You braced yourself for the inevitable, but nothing happened. The guards moved past you, their guns silent. You stood frozen, confused, but grateful.
In-ho, hidden behind the mask of a player, allowed himself the briefest sigh of relief. His influence was subtle but effective, you were still alive, and he’d made sure of it.
Later, as the remaining players rested, he approached you again.
“You were lucky out there,” he said, sitting down next to you.
“Mhmm. Don’t know how I pulled that off,” you said as you glanced at him, still shaken from the day’s events.
“You’ve got more lives than a cat.”
“Or someone’s watching over me,” you joked.
He smiled faintly, hiding how true your words were.
As the games continued, his protectiveness grew. When another player made a sly comment about your appearance, he was quick to cut in.
“Keep your eyes on the prize,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The player backed off, muttering under his breath, while you arched an eyebrow.
“You don’t need to fight my battles,” you said sassily.
“I wasn’t fighting,” he said as he leaned closer.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at your lips.
In-ho found himself conflicted. He hadn’t planned to step into the games, let alone risk his identity. But seeing you here, vulnerable yet determined, pulled at something deep within him. And when you finally cornered him one night, your wary gaze demanding answers, he knew he couldn’t stay in the shadows forever.
“You’re not just another player, are you?” you asked, your voice steady but your eyes searching his.
He hesitated, then smiled. “What do you think?”
“I think you’ve got secrets. But shit, me too. Let’s survive this first.”
“Deal,” he said.
He couldn’t stop himself from watching you, protecting you, and falling deeper into the very thing he tried to avoid. The very thing he said he wasn’t there for. Wasn’t he there to target Gi-hun?
Young-il seamlessly integrated himself into the group with Gi-hun and the rest, his calm demeanor and quick thinking making him reliable. Despite his apparent calmness, his sharp gaze constantly flicked to you. He positioned himself strategically, always close enough to step in if anything went wrong.
Gi-hun often exchanged glances with Jung-bae, silently questioning why Young-il seemed more concerned about you than the games themselves. But they never voiced their suspicions, after all, his protectiveness benefited the group.
Young-il wasn’t subtle about his priorities. When Thanos, one of the annoying and aggressive players, approached you with a smirk and a comment about how “a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be here,” Young-il’s jaw tightened.
“Walk away,” he said, his voice cold.
“Relax, man. Just talking—” Thanos chuckled nervously.
“I said, walk away.”
Before Thanos could respond, Young-il took a step forward, fists clenched, his eyes dark. Thanos scrambled back, muttering curses under his breath.
You crossed your arms and shot him a look. “I didn’t need you to step in. I could’ve handled that.”
“I wasn’t going to let him near you.”
When the lights went out, the dormitory turned into chaos. You barely managed to sleep, anxiety gnawing at you. But Young-il stayed awake, his body perched against the wall near your makeshift bed. His eyes, though heavy with exhaustion, remained trained on the room, scanning for any sign of danger.
At one point, you stirred, catching his silhouette in the dim light. “You’re not sleeping?”
“Not tired,” he lied, his voice soft.
“You should rest. I’m fine.”
“I’ll rest when this is over. Someone has to make sure you’re safe,” he said as he shook his head.
His words lingered in the air, and you turned away, confused by his constant concern.
When food rations arrived, Young-il always ensured you had enough, sometimes splitting his share without you noticing. If you hesitated to eat, he nudged the portion toward you.
“Eat,” he insisted once, placing his biscuit in your hand.
“I’m not a damsel in distress,” you said. “I don’t need you to babysit me.”
“I’m not babysitting,” he replied. “I’m keeping you alive.”
In the third game, players had to quickly form groups based on the number the organizers called, and with each failed attempt, the penalty was being shot to death. Fear ran high, and each moment felt like it could be your last.
You were with Young-il, trying to keep calm as the guards shouted the numbers. The merry go round platform spun as everyone scrambled to form groups and find a room, but it quickly turned chaotic. Someone tried to push past you, their eyes wild with desperation, and before you could react, Young-il was already stepping in.
His face was hard, his eyes cold as he grabbed the man by the collar, dragging him to the back of the room. The man’s protests were cut short as Young-il raised his hands and broke his neck, ending his life. The room fell silent for a moment before the countdown ended.
You froze, shock creeping into your body as you realized what had just happened. You hadn’t expected him to kill so easily, even after all the brutality you’d witnessed in the games. His gaze softened when he turned to you, seeing the fear in your eyes. He stepped closer, his hand resting on your shoulder.
“I know this is hard,” he whispered, his voice gentle compared to the violence he had just shown. “But you need to understand, this place doesn’t have mercy.” He looked down at you, his hand reaching up to cup your face, brushing away the few tears that had fallen. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m here.”
You nodded, feeling the weight of his words as he pulled you into his chest. The harsh reality of the games had taken root in you, but with him, you knew, even if just for a minute, you wouldn’t have to do it alone. His feelings for you were clear, he wanted you to survive, to make it out of this, and he was determined to ensure that you would.
During the dark night when the O Team launched their attack, chaos erupted. Players were dragged from their beds, screams echoing through the dormitory. When someone lunged toward you with a fork, Young-il stopped them in an instant, knocking them to the ground with a brutality that left you stunned.
He positioned himself between you and the attackers, his stance firm. “Stay behind me,” he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“I can fight!” you shouted back, trying to step forward.
“Not tonight,” he said, shoving you back gently but firmly. “You’re staying behind me. That’s final.”
Despite your protests, he shielded you with everything he had, fighting off anyone who dared come near.
When the group decided to attack the guards and confront the ‘Front Man’, Young-il hesitated. His gaze flickered between you and Gi-hun, his usual resolve wavering.
“You’ll be okay,” he said finally, pressing a gun into your hand.
“I don’t even know how to use this,” you said, eyes widened.
“You don’t need to. Just point and shoot if you have to,” he said. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
You stared at him, your chest tightening. “Why are you doing all this?”
“Because you’re mine,” he said quietly, his words slipping out before he could stop them.
Your breath hitched, but before you could respond, he turned to follow Gi-hun. Over his shoulder, he added, “You’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
And with that, he was gone, leaving you with more questions than answers and a determination to survive—not just for yourself, but for the man who had somehow made you his priority in this death game.
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foreingersgod · 2 days ago
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Pls do Caroline Harvey HCs
with just an eeny weeny teensy tiny bit of smut plss 🙏🏾
Headcannons . CH
pairing: caroline harvey (kk harvey) x reader
warnings: a mix of fluffy content and smut, so read at your own discretion and minors and men please do NOT interact!
this is my peace offering for being so busy and slacking on writing, full length fic coming soon!!
also not spell checked, sorry!!
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SFW (barely but no smut)
i feel like she’s a pretty domestic person, i think she’d prefer quiet nights at home with you as opposed to going out and partying. i imagine her being the one to beg you to stay and do date night at home anytime you suggested getting dinner or seeing a movie.
“but babe why can’t we just stay home?! we have food and plenty of movies here!” she’d whine when you asked “i’ll even make you dinner myself! come on, i jus’ want you all to myself”
on a similar note, i also think she’s not huge on PDA and that’s why she loves staying in with you so much. it’s not that she doesn’t feel comfortable being seen with you, it’s just that she’s kind of reserved and prefers to keep her personal life as private as she can. for her sake and for yours.
which has its perks, don’t get me wrong. you almost prefer it that way, subtle little touches when you’re out with friends or something like that, her hand gently resting on your lower back or her head resting on your shoulder when she gets tired. and then you’d get home, and she wouldn’t be able to help herself anymore. she’d be all over you in an instant.
“fuck,” she pants when you finally walk into your shared apartment for the night. you had been out for your mutual friends birthday, and you unintentionally intentionally decided to wear something fairly revealing “y’know what you do to me? wearing something like that?”
and believe me…she’d make up for the lack of public affection in other ways.
i’d like to think that her love language is acts of service. like she still loves to touch you and validate you and all that lovely girlfriend stuff, but she shows her love in more ways than just words.
she’d often leave you sticky notes on the fridge when you got home later than she did, maybe leave some on your nightstand when she had to leave early in the mornings when you’re still asleep. always leaving an “xoxo C” at the bottom to tell you she’s thinking of you.
not only that, but she’d do a lot of household chores for you when you were busy with school and work, run you relaxing baths when you were sick, or even something so little as running to the supermarket to grab your favorite ice cream when you started your period.
she’d be one of those stereotypical lesbians that just absolutely worships the ground their girlfriend walks on. she never fails to bring you up in conversations and is quite willing to do anything you ask.
one night you’re winding down after a long day, watching tv and painting your nails whilst caroline sits beside you to keep you company. she’s quite honestly not paying attention to what’s playing on the screen at least, rather her eyes are glued to you. she watches the way the lavender lacquer glides across your nail, how your tongue sticks out in conversation and she’s in complete awe of how beautiful you look doing the most mundane things.
“hey caroline?” you asked with a pout.
“yeah baby?” she hums in response, pretending like she wasn’t just watching you like a hawke.
“d’you think you could help me with this hand? i keep messing up”
and she’s already perching herself on the floor in front of you, pulling you into her lap as she grabs the bottle of nail polish to finish painting them.
she’s a snorer. i’m so sure of it. although i don’t think she snores like in a heavy type of way, but instead she lets out light little grumbles here and there.
i can just picture her, face pressed into the pillow, her cheek smushed against the fabric as she sleeps peacefully. her hair is all over the place and her lips are slightly parted. and then to top it all off, as if she couldn’t be any cuter, she lets out the softest snuffs.
definitely has a scrapbook, shoved somewhere deep into her closet, that her mother gifted her. it’d be filled with several baby pictures and photos/drawings from when she was in grade school, hiding it away because she was unbelievably embarrassed for you to see them.
you remembered when her family visited you both when you had finally settled into your place together, her mom bringing the scrapbook as a housing warming gift of some sorts. caroline immediately tried to tuck it away, but you were more than stubborn and demanded that you sit down and look through it.
it’s still one of your favorite memories. laughing with her parents at all the goofy pictures from when she lost her first teeth, when she won her first hockey trophy, and when she graduated high school. you even loved reading all the poems she wrote in middle school english, loved seeing all the ‘1st place” ribbons that her mom neatly taped to the card-stock pages.
you only got to look at it twice since then, kk utterly miserable whenever it was pulled out, but you cherished those pictures more than anything.
she’s probably such a dad in the sense that she pretends to not care about the cheesy reality tv shows you’re into, but then secretly starts getting hooked on it and makes you record each episode so you can watch it together.
“what do you mean lisa called meredith a ‘garbage whore’?” she gasped, running into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in her hands “wait, wait i told you to pause it! i don’t want to miss it!!”
her favorite place to kiss you is definitely your forehead. sure, she loves kissing you everywhere, but there’s something so intimate to her about small forehead kisses.
she never fails to give you one before you both fall asleep, before you leave for work, when you’re sad and need comforting or when you’re so excited and it’s her way of expressing her support. you’d probably get her kiss mark tattooed there if you could.
she often gets overwhelmed with sports and school and family and all sorts of things. she tends to be reserved with her feelings, but you’re the only person she can genuinely open up to. sometimes she comes home from practice with this look on her face, and you can immediately tell that she’s struggling.
most times she doesn’t even want to talk about it, she just wants you to hold her, run your fingers through her hair and tell her it’s all going to be okay.
and she loves to teach you new things. wether that’s teaching you how to skate, how to cook a family dish she always ate as a kid, or how play the games she learned in elementary school, she just wants you to be involved in everything she loves.
you think you love it more than she does. you’d never get over how excited she gets when you ask if you can help her make that ‘dinner she made one time’ or if she’d tell you a funny story from when she was a rebellious teen.
like that one time you were having lunch in the park one summer, sprawled out on a handmade quit atop the freshly cut grass as you laid side by side. you picked mindlessly at the dandelions beside you as you both chatted about each others day.
“you know i used to make those when i was younger?” she spoke, motioning to the flowering weeds “flower crowns, i mean”
“really?” you smiled “no one ever taught me how, i always wished i could though”
i didn’t take long before she was picking some herself and instructing you on how to tangle them together so easily. she took it as serious as she took hockey, determined to make sure you knew how to make a perfect flower crown. it wasn’t really a big deal to you in the long run, but something so important to her was just as important to you.
NSFW (for realsies this time)
getting straight to the point, i don’t think she’s huge on the strap. don’t get me wrong, you both still use it often, but i think she much prefers eating you out or scissoring.
there’s something about the appeal of physically feeling you on her that makes her crazy, a sensation that beats using the strap any day.
she loves it when you bite her or scratch her. it’s a pleasant mix between pleasure and pain and it’s probably her favorite part of intimacy.
she likes to look in the mirror the next day, just before she gets in the shower, to admire the long red marks that stretch along her back. she often teases you about too, but if you ever stop, she’s guiding your hands to her back again.
she’s not as drawn to the marks that your bites leave as much, instead she loves the feelings. when she’s making you feel so so good, so much that you can barely hold it in anymore, that you have to bite down on her shoulder or her bicep to keep yourself grounded. it’s like an ego boost to her, a sign that she fucks you so good that you can’t even function properly.
she’s cocky in bed, i feel like she’s the type to say:
“yeah baby? feels good huh?”
“come on, speak up, i can’t hear you”
or if you’re on top…
“fuck yeah, just like that, making me feel so good baby. keep going…gonna make me come”
a sucker for praise
she loves when you tell her that she’s going a good job, that’s she’s exceeding your expectations each time. she’s a bit of a perfectionist and an over achiever that way, but hey, you’re not one to complain.
whilst she loves fancy lingerie and nice dresses, she folds for you even when you’re in sweats and one of her t shirts.
“really? right now?” you huff as her hands dance up your shirt, massaging your tits roughly. she’s kissing up your neck painfully slow and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten her so worked up “i look like shit”
“are you kidding?” she scoffs “i’d fuck the shit out of you no matter what you’re wearing, you look so sexy even in this”
i’m a firm believer (maybe this is a self insert but idc!!) that she appreciates all body types, especially a chubbier figure. like she’s absolutely obsessed with your pudgy tummy and your thick thighs, a sucker for how plush and soft your body is. don’t even get her started on those stretch marks of yours…
you’d be lying if you said you didn’t struggle with your body image often, but you never had to be insecure for long when caroline walked into your life. she seized every opportunity to make you see what she saw in you, willing to do whatever it took to prove to you that she loved your body.
“shit, look at you” she moaned, smirking as she watched you on top of her, grinding your wet pussies together. her hands gripped feverishly at your hips, often wandering down to squeeze your thighs. her hands were all over you the entire time, letting you know that she loves every inch of you “so pretty on top of me, i’ll never get sick of lookin’ at you, got it?”
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago
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Not a Word 2
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: 😻.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You hear your father in the garage. It’s a comfort knowing he isn’t in the house. You’ve learned to navigate so that you rarely run into him. The fact of your existence only ever seems to irk him. 
That day, there’s a low rumble between the clank and clunk of his tools. You’re not sure it’s the engine or something else. The last time you glimpsed inside the garage, the engine wasn’t even in that old Bronco he’s worked on for seven years. 
You rub smooth the lines in your forehead and give a long blink. You’ve been squinting at the diamond art for much too long. You sit up and roll your shoulders. You need a break. 
As you emerge from your room, you feel guilty. A break from what? Doing nothing. That’s what your dad always says. Then he laughs and finds something to throw at you. 
You take his lunch box from the floor by the shoe mat and bring it to the kitchen. You open it up and clean out all the containers. Those things you do, as small as they are, like cleaning and making his meals, aren’t enough. He doesn’t fail to remind you of that. 
You dump the uneaten crust from his ham and cheese sandwich as the door from the garage clatters open and lets in the smell of oil and dirt. You turn your attention to the sink as you put the container with the rest. It’s only as you flip the faucet on that you realise the steps aren’t your dad’s. 
“Scuse me,” Sy says. “Don’t mean to bother, but, uh, had a bit of an accident.” 
You face him as he holds out the front of his tee shirt. You gulp. There’s a smear of shiny oil across it, ready to drip onto the floor. Your eyes round. 
“I can clean it in the bathroom, I see you’re busy.” 
He goes to turn away and you put your hands up. The oil won’t come out if he just wipes it into the shirt. You would know since you deal with your dad’s stained jeans.  
He nears as you sidle down to grab the baking soda from the cupboard. He looms, his shadow moving in your peripheral, and you shift the faucet to off. You grab a paper towel and turn to him. You hesitate to reach for him, that seems too much but before you can make a move, he peels his shirt off. 
You flutter your lashes and point to the counter. He lays the shirt out and you open the box of baking soda. He stands back and watches. Heat trickles down your back as you focus on the task. You sprinkle the powder over his shirt. 
You let it soak up as much as it can then blot daintily. 
“You’re clever,” he muses. “Helpful.” 
You shrug. 
“How lucky’s that daddy of yours, huh? You out here cleaning all his mess. You make his lunch?” He peeks over at the sink and you follow his gaze. You nod. “Hm, think he’d be nicer then, wouldn’t ya? Well, I know him, he ain’t a nice fella.” 
You return your attention to his shirt. If your daddy isn’t so nice, why does he come around? You wouldn’t ask even if you could. You can barely concentrate with him exposed like that. 
Your eyes dart over in a fleeting peek. His chest is hair and his stomach thick, his arms too. You’re always aware of how big he is but at that moment, he seems even larger. You look at his shirt. It’ll need more time to soak and wash. 
“Could wash it with the hose, don’t wanna ruin your machine,” he offers as if reading your mind. 
You frown and shake your head. You hold up your finger and flit away with his shirt. You put stain remover on it and dump it in the machine. You set the cycle then hesitate. What will he wear now? 
Your dad isn’t as big. He’s a pretty small guy. He might have something... 
You hurry into the closet of old things and search around. There’s one of those tees he got from a case of Labatts. They always pack the XLs and nothing else. It has some sports team logo on it. 
You go back to the kitchen and offer it to Sy. He crosses to you and accepts it with a smile, “thanks, sugar. That’s mighty nice.” His fingertips brush yours.  
He unfolds the shirt and shakes it out. He pulls it over his head and your eyes crawl down his torso unintentionally. You back up a step as he tugs down the hem, though it hangs short of his belt. Even that is too small for him. 
“You’re not scared of me, are ya?” He asks as he curls his shoulders as if to make himself smaller. 
You shake your head. Shy is all. You’re not eager to mingle with anyone. Nor they, you. 
“You know, I might have a word with your daddy. He shouldn’t be so nasty to ya. ‘Specially all the work you put in.” 
You shake your head frantically and clasp your hands. You know better than that. Even if he’s trying to be nice, it’s the worst thing he can do. 
“What’s wrong? Huh? Just wanna tell him what a good girl ya are,” he crosses his arms and seems to double in size. 
You pout and press your hands together. You cower and takes another step back. His expression turns dire. 
“Sorry, sugar, hope I didn’t upset ya there. I was only... only bein’ nice, ya know? Seems you’re not used to all that.” He drops his hands to his hips. “Fine then, I’ll just have to save them sweet words for you, huh?” 
You look down and chew your lip. You’re not used to the attention. Your dad’s other friends, if you can call them that, just ignore you or laugh at his jokes about you. You nod and turn, gesturing to the sink. You walk up to it, clinging to the excuse to get away. 
“Yeah, I know, you workin’ hard,” he praises. “I’ll be outta ya way now.” 
You bob your head and turn the tap on again. You work at scrubbing the containers, waiting and listening for him to go. When he does, you can breathe again. You’re not so sure why he’s being nice. Not like you can do much but stare. 
💘
When your dad’s at work, you’re as close to peace as you’ve ever been. There’s still that constant restlessness that follows you. The gnawing reality that time is passing you by. That you have no purpose. No direction. 
You envy others. That they have a reason. That they have everything you don’t. They have other people, ones that care, not those burdened with them; they have important work to do; they have fun things to celebrate; graduations, new jobs, marriages. They have voices and you remain unheard. 
You busy yourself with the tidying when he isn’t there. If you try to clean with him around, he only antagonizes you. There’s a roast out for dinner. It will last a few days. Most times, you lose your appetite. You spend all day craving and making the food then lose all desire the moment it’s before you. 
The small pleasures you once treasured fade with each day that starts and ends the same. You can’t feel too bad for yourself. Your dad doesn’t have to keep you. You’re an adult now. Maybe he’ll never say so, or even show it, but he must care, right? 
You finish mopping and start on chopping up the potatoes. You arrange them in the roasting pan around the slab of beef. Then carrots and celery. You save the onions for last because they make you cry. You’re saved from tears by the rumble of thunder on the horizon. 
Curiously, you set the knife down and go to the window. Would your dad be home early? Some days, they shut down the shop when business is slow. 
It’s not him but you recognise the grating on the truck’s nose. The large truck sends up dirt and gravel as it cuts across the worn roadway. Your confusion floods to panic and you rush out the front door.
Is your father hurt? Why else would Sy be here? 
You hover on the top step as he grinds to a stop and shuts the behemoth truck off. The driver’s door creaks as it opens and Sy jumps down. Instead of his usual camo cargo shorts and sweat-dampened tee, he wears a button-up with short sleeves and a pair of brown slacks. It even looks like he combed his beard. 
Your face twists in a grimace. What’s going on? Why is he here? 
He reaches back into the truck and brings out something behind his back. You can’t see it as he keeps his arm bent behind him and shuts the door. He grins and walks up to the house as you watch. 
“How’s it goin’?” He asks brightly. 
You blink. You look at his collar, the top button straining against his thick neck. You lower your gaze to your loose blue tee and barrel jeans. You’re dressed like a laundry line. Your clothes offer no shape, nothing. They just do the job. 
“I, uh, I wanted to surprise ya, and uh, I was thinkin’ ya know, this place deserves a bit of colour,” he chuckles then clears his throat, “and you deserve good things, so, uh, here.” 
He reveals the flowers from behind his back and you blanch. You stare at the dainty petals, white with violet edges. They are pretty. Too pretty for this place or for you. Besides, why would he do that? 
“You don’t like em? Should I have got roses?” He asks. 
You flinch. You don’t want to hurt his feelings. You come down the steps and cautiously reach for the paper cone. He hands it over and you stare at him. Then you smell them. You think that’s what you’re supposed to do. 
“Smell good?” He asks. 
You peer over the petals at him and nod. You’re not sure how to react. What do you do now? You can’t just leave him out in the yard. You raise your thumb and point it over your shoulder and tilt your head. 
“Sure, I’ll come in,” he accepts. 
He steps forward, a bit too close, and you hop backward up the step. You barely keep from tripping. You get onto the porch and spin around, scurrying to the door. You open the door and step to the side to hold it for him. 
He laughs again, “now, I’m a gentleman, sugar.” 
He grabs the door and gestures you through. You take his directive without pause. You hurry inside and he follows. As he stops to take off his shoes, you continue on into the kitchen. 
You search for an adequate holder for the flowers. You find an old canister and set them in it with some water. His presence lurks behind you. You put the bouquet on the table as he looks around. 
“You cookin’ a fine dinner, huh?” He says. “Like I tell your daddy, he’s a lucky man. Any man’d be lucky to have that waitin’.” 
You shrug. He shifts. 
“I don’t mean to take advantage of your kindness but I was gonna ask ya a favour.” 
You look at him blankly. He reaches in his pocket. He pulls a length of silk. A tie. 
“Couldn’t figure this out,” he explains. “Thought maybe you might...” 
You stare at the tie. You remember tying your daddy’s for your grandma’s funeral. That was a long time ago but you think you could remember. 
You swallow down your nerves and approach him. You take the tie and he glances around. He pushes a chair out and sits. He leans his head back. 
“Just wanna make sure I look good for ya,” he says. 
You flip up his collar and bring the silk around his neck. As you do, your thumb brushes his coarse beard. He hums. 
“Don’t worry bout pullin’ my hair,” he scoffs. “Won’t bother me none.” 
You line up his tie, knuckles brushing his shirt as you go through the steps in your hand. You pull the tie snug and fix hit collar. You step back and he sets his head straight. You hug yourself and give him a questioning look. 
“Ya like your surprise?” He asks. 
You look at the flower then nod. 
“And what about the other?” 
You face him again and your brows draw together. 
“Me,” he snorts. 
You purse your lips and shrug. What does he mean? 
“We’ll wait for your daddy, huh? Then I’ll ask his blessing.” He rests his elbow on the table, “and you’ll have dinner all ready, won’t ya?” 
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mya-valentine · 2 days ago
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The Man Beneath the Infinity
Synopsis: Despite his immense power, Gojo realizes he can't protect you from everything.
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The night began like any other. The gentle hum of the city filtered through the windows of the apartment you shared with Satoru Gojo. Despite his eccentric personality and immense power, your home was surprisingly modest—a reflection of the simpler life he craved when he wasn’t standing at the apex of the sorcerer world.
You sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, while Gojo lay sprawled out beside you, his head resting in your lap. His blindfold had been pulled down around his neck, revealing those striking blue eyes that always seemed to glimmer with mischief, even in the dim light. But tonight, something about his gaze was different. Softer, quieter. Vulnerable, even.
“Hey,” you murmured, brushing a hand through his snowy hair. “You’re unusually quiet tonight. What’s going on in that giant head of yours?”
“Giant? Rude,” he pouted, but his heart wasn’t in it. He shifted slightly, turning to look up at you, his eyes catching yours. For a moment, he said nothing, just stared as though memorizing every detail of your face. “Just thinking about stuff.”
“That’s new,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. But your smile faltered when he didn’t laugh or make a snarky comeback.
“Satoru?” you asked, your voice softening. “What’s wrong?”
He sighed, his hand coming up to rest on your knee. “You know how much I love you, right?”
The sudden seriousness of his tone made your heart skip a beat. “Of course I do. What’s this about?”
For once, Gojo seemed at a loss for words. He sat up, running a hand through his hair and letting out a frustrated sigh. You’d seen him fight curses that could obliterate cities without breaking a sweat, but this—whatever this was—seemed to genuinely trouble him.
“I’m the strongest,” he began, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “Everyone says that. Hell, I say that. And it’s true. I can protect people, destroy curses, keep the balance. But…” He turned to you, his expression uncharacteristically raw. “I can’t protect you from everything.”
The weight of his words hung in the air between you. Your chest tightened as you reached out, placing a hand on his cheek. “Satoru, where is this coming from? Did something happen?”
He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment before pulling you into his arms. The suddenness of the gesture startled you, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as he held you.
“There are things out there, things even I can’t control,” he admitted, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you. Not to a curse, not to anything.”
Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. This was a side of Gojo he rarely, if ever, showed to anyone. The world saw him as untouchable, invincible. But here, in the privacy of your home, he was just a man terrified of losing the person he loved most.
“Satoru,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “You don’t have to carry this burden alone. I know how dangerous your world is, but I chose to be with you. I knew the risks, and I don’t regret a second of it. I’m not going anywhere.”
His arms tightened around you as if he were afraid you’d disappear if he let go. “I know you’re strong. Stronger than most people I know. But I can’t help it. You’re my everything.”
You didn’t know what to say. The sheer intensity of his emotions left you speechless. So instead, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, letting your actions speak for you.
For the rest of the night, Gojo stayed close—closer than usual. He insisted on doing everything for you, from getting you a glass of water to fluffing your pillows when you went to bed. At first, you thought he was just being his usual dramatic self, but the look in his eyes told you this was different. He wasn’t just doting on you; he was trying to protect you in the only way he knew how.
“Alright, what’s going on?” you finally asked as he tucked you into bed like a child. “You’re acting weird.”
“I can’t spoil the love of my life without being interrogated?” he teased, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You spoil me all the time, but this… this is over the top, even for you.”
He sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I just… I need to make sure you know how much you mean to me. In case… In case something happens.”
You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers together. “Nothing’s going to happen, Satoru. Not to me, and not to you. We’ll face whatever comes together, okay?”
He nodded, though the worry in his eyes remained. “Okay.”
That night, as you lay in his arms, you felt the weight of his fears in the way he held you, the way his fingers brushed gently against your skin as if memorizing every inch of you. And as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but think about the man beneath the infinity—the man who, despite his immeasurable strength, was still human enough to fear losing the person he loved.
.
.
.
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darksturnz · 3 days ago
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IN YOUR ORBIT
CONTENTS:・fluff? angst?-heavy plot (¿¿¿) ・star!reader ・bambi!madison ・artist!chris・sappy sappy sappy ・artist!chris gets a smidge corny but ITS CUTEE I SWEAR 😿 + more WC:4.2k
this song literally has been my top song in my spotify wraps since it was released. please listen on loop :3!
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The treehouse sat nestled behind Madison’s house, its edges worn by years of weather and love. Its faded wood blended with the trees surrounding it, and the faint golden glow of string lights woven along the beams made it feel like something out of a dream. The creek gurgled softly nearby, its sound underscoring the quiet retreat Star had created for herself. She hadn’t left this sanctuary in a week. She hadn’t gone back to the trailer park, hadn’t faced the mess waiting for her there. Instead, she stayed here, wrapped in the safety of Madison’s presence.
Inside, the treehouse was cluttered with years of memories: old books with dog-eared pages, throw blankets, faded cushions, and now, Star’s cat, Comet, who had claimed a corner as his personal kingdom. His litter box sat discreetly in one corner, his food and water bowls lined up neatly beside a blanket she’d brought from home. He was sprawled lazily on one of Madison’s pillows, his black fur blending seamlessly with the worn fabric as he watched the girls with a contented air.
Madison sat cross-legged by the window, her guitar resting on her lap as she plucked at the strings, trying to tune them. Star lay on her stomach near the center of the room, flipping through one of Madison’s journals without any real focus. Her eyes skimmed over the half-finished song lyrics, doodles, and scattered thoughts, but her mind felt too crowded to take any of it in. She wasn’t ready to think about Chris or Danny or the complicated mess that connected them all. The idea of going back to the trailer park made her chest tighten.
Madison hadn’t said anything about it. She hadn’t asked why Star wasn’t going home or pressed her for answers. Instead, she’d quietly made the treehouse feel as welcoming as possible. A portable heater hummed in the corner, keeping the space warm despite the winter chill outside. A lavender-scented candle flickered on a small shelf, its faint aroma mingling with the earthy scent of the creek and the wood. Madison just kept things easy, offering quiet companionship without demands, and Star was grateful for it.
“You’re being too quiet,” Madison said softly, breaking the quiet strum of her guitar. She glanced at Star with a knowing look.
“What’s there to say?” Star mumbled, not looking up.
Madison adjusted one of the guitar strings, the sound twanging sharply in the stillness. “I dunno, just checking in I guess,” she said lightly, though her gaze lingered on Star a moment longer.
Star shrugged, her fingers idly flipping another page. “I’m fine.”
It was a lie, and Madison knew it. But she didn’t press. She just returned her attention to the guitar, her fingers moving deftly as she strummed out a soft melody. The sound filled the space, soothing in its familiarity. Madison’s music had always had a way of quieting Star’s thoughts, and tonight was no different. Star let the notes wash over her, her body sinking deeper into the cushion beneath her.
Comet chose that moment to leap onto Madison’s lap, his paws landing squarely on the strings with an audible thud. Madison laughed, pulling him away gently and holding him up to eye level.
“Your son is terribly unaware of manners,” she teased, setting him down on the floor beside her.
Star grinned, propping herself up on her elbows. “He’s the most well-behaved man in my life. Leave him alone.”
Madison raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching. “That’s depressing.”
Star shrugged again, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Yeah, well. It’s the truth.”
Madison rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered. She gave the guitar another strum, then set it aside, leaning back against the wall. “This place has seriously seen better days,” she said, gesturing at the treehouse around them.
“S’perfect,” Star said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Madison looked at her for a long moment, her expression softening. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I guess it is.”
The air between them settled again, the kind of comfortable silence that only years of friendship could create. Star closed her eyes, letting the quiet hum of the creek and the faint rustle of the wind outside lull her into a sense of calm. Madison picked up the guitar again, strumming idly, the soft notes blending seamlessly with the sounds of the night.
“You haven’t sung for me in forever,” Star said after a while, her voice barely above a murmur.
Madison glanced at her, her fingers pausing on the strings. “What do you want to hear?”
Star opened her eyes, her gaze drifting to Madison’s hands. “You know what I want.”
Madison froze, her fingers stilling. “Seriously?”
Star nodded, her lips twitching into a small smile. “It’s your favorite. And… it’s kinda ours, isn’t it?”
Madison hesitated, her expression unreadable. Then, with a soft sigh, she adjusted her grip on the guitar. “Alright,” she said quietly. “But don’t judge me if I mess it up.”
Star didn’t answer, just leaned back against the pillow and closed her eyes again. Madison wouldn’t mess it up, she never did. 
The first notes of We’ll Never Have Sex filled the space, tentative at first but growing stronger as Madison found her rhythm. Her voice was soft, almost shy, but it carried an unpolished beauty that made Star’s chest ache. The lyrics hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.
For Madison, the song was an outlet, a way to express everything she couldn’t say out loud. For Star, it was a reminder of safety and love, of the kind of connection that didn’t come with expectations or strings. As Madison sang, Star felt something in her chest loosen, the weight she’d been carrying for days easing just slightly.
By the time Madison reached the second chorus, Star had shifted closer, her head resting against Madison’s shoulder. Madison didn’t stop playing, but she glanced down at Star, her expression softening. She kept singing, her voice steady even as her heart raced.
When the song ended, the treehouse fell silent except for the faint crackle of the heater and the soft purring of Comet. Madison set the guitar aside, her fingers lingering on the strings.
“I missed that, Your voice” Star said softly, her voice thick with emotion.
Madison shrugged, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not all that and a bag of chips.”
“It is,” Star insisted, sitting up slightly. “That song—what it means… It’s everything. You’re everything.”
Madison swallowed hard, her heart racing. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Star’s face. “I just want you to feel… loved,” she said quietly. “Like you matter. Because you do.”
Star’s lips twitched into a small smile. “You make me feel that way, Mads. Always.”
Madison didn’t trust herself to speak, so she pressed a soft kiss to Star’s temple, letting the moment speak for itself.
They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and full of unspoken understanding. But eventually, Madison broke it, her voice hesitant.
“You should talk to him,” she said.
Star frowned, her brows knitting together. “Talk to who?”
Madison gave her a knowing look, and Star’s face fell as realization dawned. “No. Absolutely not.”
Madison’s expression didn’t change. “I’m not saying what he did was okay. It wasn’t. But he’s become a safe place for you, Star. And you deserve as many of those as you can get.”
Star hesitated, her defenses cracking. “What if it’s not safe anymore?”
Madison shook her head, her voice firm but gentle. “You miss him. And Lila. Don’t let your pride keep you from something good.”
The words sat heavily between them, and for the first time in days, Star allowed herself to consider them. By the time she agreed, the sun was beginning to set. 
Star left the treehouse with reluctance, her steps heavy as she made her way down the old wooden steps. Comet stayed behind, curled into a ball in his makeshift corner, purring softly. Madison leaned against the doorframe, watching her go with an expression that was equal parts worry and hope. She didn’t say anything as Star started down the path toward the trailer park, but her presence lingered, like a steadying hand on Star’s back.
The air was crisp, biting against her cheeks, but Star welcomed it. The chill helped distract her from the storm of thoughts swirling in her head. Each step closer to the trailer park felt like an admission of defeat, though she wasn’t sure what she was surrendering to—Chris, herself, or the ache that had settled in her chest since their fight.
The world around her was quiet, the only sounds coming from the crunch of gravel beneath her boots and the occasional rustle of leaves in the trees. It was the kind of silence that invited reflection, whether she wanted it or not.
Her mind drifted to moments with Chris. The sharpness of his dry humor, the way he moved through the world like he was trying to go unnoticed, and the rare softness he reserved for Lila. She thought about the way his hands were always busy—sketching, tinkering with the car, rolling blunts—and how those same hands had brushed hers when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. She thought about the quiet nights on his porch, words left unsaid between them, and how that silence had felt comforting until it hadn’t.
Her chest tightened as the trailer park came into view, its familiar outline stirring up everything she’d been avoiding all week. She clenched her fists at her sides, bracing herself for the weight of what was waiting for her there.
As she turned onto their shared street, her steps faltered. Chris was already there, standing in front of her trailer. He looked out of place in the streetlight’s glow, his broad shoulders slouched and his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets. He seemed caught between leaving and knocking, his hesitation palpable even from a distance.
Star ducked behind a tree, watching him. She knew she shouldn’t, but her feet stayed planted, her body frozen. He lifted his hand, hesitated, and then let it fall. The second time, his knuckles brushed the door, the sound barely audible even in the quiet.
The door opened to Danny, whose irritation was visible in the stiff set of his shoulders. Star’s breath caught, and she stepped back instinctively, her back pressing against the rough bark of the tree. She couldn’t hear their words, but she didn’t need to. Chris’s body language said it all. His shoulders were hunched, his posture smaller than usual. Danny’s crossed arms and narrowed eyes were all dismissal.
Chris said something low, his voice too soft to carry, and Danny’s expression hardened. He responded with something curt before stepping back and slamming the door. Chris stood there, unmoving, for a long moment. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration before turning to leave.
That’s when he saw her.
Star froze, her breath hitching as his gaze locked onto hers. His surprise was clear in the way his body tensed, his feet halting mid-step. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Star stepped out from behind the tree, keeping a cautious distance between them.
“Hey,” Chris said, his voice quiet, almost unsure.
“Hi,” she echoed, the word barely more than a breath.
He glanced toward her trailer, then back at her. “You heading home?”
She shook her head. “No.”
The silence between them stretched, heavy and taut. Star dug her hands into the sleeves of her hoodie, her nails pressing into her palms as she searched for the right words. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Can…can we talk?”
Chris’s eyes flickered, something like relief crossing his face before he nodded. “Yeah.”
They walked in silence to the old playground at the edge of the park, their steps slow and careful, like they were afraid to break whatever fragile truce had formed between them. The swings creaked softly in the breeze, the rusted chains groaning under their weight. Star sat on one of the swings, her fingers curling around the cold metal, while Chris settled on the bottom step of the slide, a few feet away.
The silence stretched between them again, the quiet almost unbearable.
“I’m sorry,” Star said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
Chris’s head snapped up, his brow furrowing. “Don’t,” he said, his voice rough.
She looked at him, startled by the sharpness in his tone.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, quieter this time. He stared at the ground, his hands clasped tightly between his knees.
“I shouldn’t have—”
“You were trying to help,” he interrupted, his voice tight. “And I… I shouldn’t have said what I said.” He shifted uncomfortably, his hands running through his hair. "I felt cornered. Embarrassed. You were just... trying to help, and I threw it back at you. I got defensive because... because this is what I do. And it's fucking humiliating. But I have to do it, Star. For them. It wasn’t about you. I just… I can’t—” He stopped, his words catching in his throat.
Star waited, giving him the space to continue, but when he didn’t, she spoke. “I get it, you’re taking care of them,” she said softly. “ But it felt like you were pushing me away.”
Chris’s jaw tightened, his eyes fixed on the ground. “I was,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.
The honesty in his words hit her like a punch to the gut. She looked down at her hands, the chains of the swing digging into her palms. “Why?”
Chris exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Because it’s easier,” he said finally. “To push people away. To fuck things up before they can…” He trailed off, his voice cracking.
“Before they can what?”
He didn’t answer. His hands flexed, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the step.
Star felt tears sting her eyes, but she blinked them back. “You hurt me,” she said, her voice trembling. “I thought you…I thought maybe you let me in, but then you just… shut me out. Like I didn’t matter.”
Chris’s head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers for the first time. They were filled with so much guilt, so much regret, that it nearly took her breath away. “You do matter,” he said, his voice raw. “More than you know.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. Star looked away, her hands trembling as she gripped the chains tighter.
“ m’not good at this,” Chris said finally, his voice low and hesitant. “At… people. At letting them in. Not anymore,” He paused, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “But you… you’re different. You’re not like anyone else.”
Star’s breath hitched, her chest tightening at his words. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for something—anything—to hold onto.
“M’working on it though.. don’t give up on me yet,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”
Her heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, the rawness in his expression. She reached out, her hand brushing his lightly. “I won’t,” she said softly.
For a moment, they just sat there, the quiet between them wrapping around them like a blanket, heavy with the weight of everything unspoken and everything they couldn’t quite find the words to say.
Chris’s voice broke the stillness, so soft it almost melted into the night. “You’re like..every star in my sky, you know that?”
Star blinked, her breath catching in her chest. She turned to look at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “What does that make you?”
He hesitated, his lips pressing together like he was weighing the words, then let out a quiet, almost shy laugh. “I dunno…maybe just the sky,” he murmured. “Big, empty… but you—you light it up. You make it mean something.”
Her heart ached in a way that was both painful and sweet, like it was trying to hold too much all at once. “You’re not empty,” she said softly, shaking her head. “You’re not.”
Chris’s eyes lifted to hers, the guarded walls he always carried stripped away, leaving behind something raw and achingly sincere. “I just… I don’t know what I’d do without them. Or you. I don’t think I want to find out.”
She smiled then, her lips trembling as warmth spread through her chest. “You don’t have to,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “You’re stuck with all of us, Sturniolo.”
His faint, lopsided smile returned, but this time it reached his eyes.
Star leaned back slightly, letting her gaze drift up to the night sky. The stars were scattered like pinpricks of light, distant and beautiful. “You’re the moon for me,” she said softly, almost to herself.
Chris tilted his head, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. “Yeah? How’s that?”
“Because even when it’s dark, you’re still there,” she murmured, her voice steady. She turned to him, her eyes shimmering in the soft light. “You always find a way to be there.”
Chris didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached out slowly, his hand brushing hers where it rested on the swing’s chain. His touch was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure he had the right, but when her fingers curled around his, the tension in his shoulders eased.
Star’s chest swelled with something too big to name, and as she looked at him, she realized the ache she’d carried all week had finally started to ease. Whatever this was—whatever they were—it wasn’t perfect, but it was real.
The walk back to the trailers was slow and unhurried, the crisp night air weaving around them as if it were trying to push them closer. Star’s boots kicked at stray pebbles, her thoughts swirling as the silence stretched between them. Finally, she glanced at Chris out of the corner of her eye.
“What were you doing at my trailer?” she asked, her voice careful but curious.
Chris’s steps faltered for a moment, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets. He shrugged, the motion almost boyish, but the tips of his ears betrayed him, flushing a faint red. “Was seeing if you were home yet.”
Star stopped walking, her brow furrowed. “Yet?” she echoed, her voice tinged with confusion.
Chris hesitated, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground now, like it might swallow him whole. “Yeah,” he muttered, shifting his weight awkwardly. “been over there a couple times. Y’know, to apologize. After you took a while to respond to the drawing.”
“The what?” Star’s confusion deepened, her head tilting slightly.
Chris looked up, his expression caught somewhere between embarrassment and disbelief. “The drawing. The one I slipped through your window?” he said, his voice quieter now, his usual confidence muted. “I just figured you saw it and didn’t want anything to do with me.”
Star blinked at him, her mouth opening and closing for a moment before she found her voice. “Chris,” she said slowly, “I haven’t been home to see it.”
His expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and something softer, though he quickly tried to mask it with a shrug. “It’s no big deal now,” he said, his voice carrying a forced nonchalance. “Was just a stupid doodle asking to talk.”
Star stepped closer to him, her lips quirking into a small, teasing smile. “You really need to work on your apology skills, maybe hand it to me next time.”
Chris huffed a quiet laugh, the sound low and genuine, and it sent a flutter through Star’s chest. “Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Will do.”
As they neared her trailer, the conversation slowed, the quiet settling over them once again. When they reached her door, Chris stopped, turning to look at her. For a moment, they just stood there, the faint hum of the night filling the space between them.
“I missed you,” Star said softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
Chris’s gaze darted to hers, his usual guardedness cracking. His cheeks turned red again, but this time he didn’t look away. “Yeah? The trailer’s been a little quiet without you barging in all the time,” he admitted, his voice gruff but laced with something warmer, softer.
The words settled over her like a balm, easing the ache that had lingered in her chest for days, he was terrible with his words but she knew what he was getting at. She smiled, stepping a little closer. “Where’s Lila?” she asked, glancing toward his trailer.
Chris leaned against the railing, his hands still tucked into his pockets. “She’s at a sleepover,” he said. “Some kid from school invited her over. First one she’s ever gone to, actually.”
Star smiled at that, imagining Lila’s excitement. “Good for her,” she said, her voice warm.
Chris nodded before glancing at her again. “Where’ve you been staying?”
“With Madison and Comet,” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Tucked away in a treehouse.”
Chris arched a brow, the faintest hint of amusement flickering across his face. “A treehouse? That sounds very… you.”
Star nudged his arm lightly, rolling her eyes. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
But Chris’s smile faded slightly, his expression turning thoughtful. “You stayed away because of me,” he said quietly, more a statement than a question.
Star looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “It wasn’t just you,” she murmured, though they both knew that wasn’t entirely true.
Chris reached out, his fingers brushing against hers, hesitant but steady. “I’m sorry,” he said again, the words barely audible but carrying the weight of everything he couldn’t say.
Star looked up at him, her chest tightening. And before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in, her lips brushing his in a kiss that was soft, tentative, but full of all the things they couldn’t find the words for.
Chris froze for half a second before he kissed her back, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, warm and steady. When they pulled away, their foreheads rested together, and for the first time in days, Star felt like she could breathe again.
“C’mon,” Chris said after a moment, his voice still soft but steadier now. “Let me take you back to Madison’s.”
Star hesitated, her pulse quickening. 
Chris gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll go slow. Promise.”
After a moment, she nodded, and he led her to his car.
As Chris pulled up in front of Madison’s house, the car hummed to a stop. Star reached for the door handle, but before she could push it open, Chris had already slipped out of his seat and rounded the hood.
She blinked at him as he opened her door, the quiet chivalry catching her off guard. “You didn’t have to—”
He shrugged, cutting her off with a lopsided smile. “Just wanted to.”
Star stepped out, her boots crunching softly against the gravel. Before she could thank him, Chris leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. It was brief but full of something unspoken, the warmth of his hand resting lightly on her back grounding her in the moment.
Above them, nestled in the soft glow of the treehouse lights, Madison sat frozen. She’d been lounging on the worn cushions, a book open on her lap, when the sound of a car pulling up caught her attention.
Curiosity had drawn her to the window, her gaze slipping past the familiar outline of the treehouse railing. At first, the car didn’t register as anything more than an unexpected visitor. But then the passenger door opened, and Madison saw the guy step out.
Her heart fluttered as she watched him walk around the car, his movements easy but purposeful. He opened the passenger door, his head tilting toward the figure stepping out. Madison’s breath caught as the girl emerged, her silhouette illuminated faintly by the moonlight.
The guy leaned down, pressing a kiss to the girl’s lips, and Madison’s stomach twisted, the scene unfolding like a blow she hadn’t seen coming. She was about to look away, unwilling to invade their privacy any further, when the girl turned, her face catching the faint glow of the moon.
Madison’s heart stopped.
It was Star.
The book in Madison’s lap tumbled to the floor, but she didn’t notice. Her chest tightened, her breath shallow as she watched her best friend kiss Chris. The kiss was soft, nothing over the top, but it was enough. Enough to confirm what Madison hadn’t seriously wanted to admit to herself.
Madison pressed her lips together, forcing herself to look away. She felt guilt pooling alongside the ache in her chest, guilt for watching, guilt for the bitterness she couldn’t push down.
When she dared another glance, Chris was walking Star up the path toward the house, their conversation too quiet to hear. Madison swallowed hard, her fingers curling into the edge of the cushion. She felt like a stranger looking in, someone on the outside of something she couldn’t touch.
As Star turned to wave at Chris before he left, the warmth in her smile was unmistakable, and it only made the ache in Madison’s chest deepen. She forced herself to step back from the window, her heart heavy, and sat down on the cushions again, her head lowering into her hands.
It wasn’t jealousy, she told herself, not really. It was just the ache of knowing she’d lost something she never really had to begin with.
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AUTHORS NOTE: this song GENUINELY makes me crash out my god. anyways you can all stop jumping me in my ask now pls, he fixed it it’s fixed they’re married with 38464923874 children in another alternate universe 😿
TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife @mattsmunch @pip4444chris @ribread03 @ariestrxsh @angelic-sturniolos111 @pvssychicken @stvrnzcherries @dottieboo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @bluestriips @sturniolo-fann @chrisslut04 @owensbabygirl @sturnslutz @sturniqlo @sofieeeeex @jadasmp4 @ncm9696
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sngj08 · 3 days ago
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[Not so Quiet Boy] Sunghoon x fem!reader
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summary: your friend tries to set you up with an old acquaintance of yours in hopes to get him a girlfriend by the end of his senior year
genre: crush to friends, friends to lovers, crush to lovers, high school romance, after school and outside of school hangouts, mixed signals, friends playing cupid, friends not saying everything, obvious flirting but protagonist doesn't see,
warning: profanity
author's note: all of this is from true experience and none of them were altered besides names.
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Part 1: Disney
A few months into the next school year, there was a trip for the performing arts branch of the school to go to Disney California Adventure for a workshop. You had a workshop at 3pm till 6pm so you had planned the rest of the day to enjoy the park. Initially planned to go with your friend, Winter but as you were waiting for her at the park entrance, she messaged you she had swimming practice that day and would be arriving by lunch time.
You sighed as you saw the message, someone screamed your name. “Yn!” You looked up to see another friend of yours.
“Eli!” You said as she went towards you.
You and Elisa go back since freshman year when you were by yourself in the dance room during office hours.
You had no other place to go for office hours so you decided to stay at dance room. There were a handful of people there but it was somewhat quiet. Everyone had a group of friends quietly working on their dances while you were at the corner by yourself until you heard people very noisy come in. You quietly looked up to see a girl and a guy chatting as they put their bags down. As time passed, you noticed that they were learning a dance together but in the middle, the guy needed to go somewhere and left. Thats when she noticed you at the side of the room by yourself.
"Hi!" She went up to you as you stood up to greet her back. It ended up you both had a lot in common so you decided to keep in touch every now and then knowing she was a grade older than you.
"Who were you with just now? He's the only guy that went in here besides the teacher next door." You asked her out of curiosity as you quickly get used to her presence. "Oh that's Sunghoon. He's the only guy who dances here. I knew him from tech theater... But why so curious?" She playfully raised an eyebrow and nudged you a bit as you two laughed it off.
“Are you waiting for someone?” Elisa asked you, making you remember your alone at Disney situation.
“Winter was going to be with me today but she has swim practice this morning. How about you, are you going around with someone?” You explain while asking the same thing back to her.
“Oh yeah I’m looking for Jennie and Sunghoon and they said they’re already here but I can’t see them.” She said as she looked at her phone, waiting for a notification, then looked back to you.
“Oh yeah and wait! My mom said to show her proof of life. Can we take a selfie to send to my mom?” You remembered as she looked down at her phone as you explained to her your mom’s words this morning.
“I got you!” As we both posed for the selfie, Wyn’s phone started ringing so you took a quick shot and made her answer the call.
“Yo Sunghoon where your asses are at?!” She screamed to the phone as she answered it.
“Oh ok” She suddenly spoke calmly as she nodded and placed the phone down.
“They’re already inside. Are you going to be going inside anytime soon?” She asked you as she was looking at you worriedly.
“I was planning to go in by myself but now that I think of it, can I join you guys? Winter won’t be here till 12.” You said while scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment.
“Yeah of course! I’ll just tell them you're joining us when we get inside.” Elisa said as we both headed to the entrance.
As we both went in, we could see Sunghoon and Jennie going to us. I waved to both of them as Jennie waved back and Sunghoon just gave us a small nod of recognition.
“Can Yn tag along? She was going to join Winter but she’s not going to be here till 12." She explained the rest of the group.
"Yeah of course!" Jennie said as they all nodded in agreement while looking at each other.
"What ride should we go on first?" Elisa asked openly.
"Let's go to the Guardians of the Galaxy one!" Sunghoon finally had said something.
taglist: (open) @enhacolor @beigerin
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gouraminnow · 3 days ago
Note
May I request something with platonic yandere whitebeard and a toddler reader? Like I’m envisioning the crew somehow pick up a young child that recently lost her parents. And she’s traumatized and shy just holding onto dear life a stuffed bunny that is almost as big as her because she’s just so tiny. And poor baby can’t sleep is injured and hides from the crew. She is just so used to sleeping with said stuffed animal and in the same bed as her deceased parents. So she wonders into whitebeards quarters after she was supposed to be “asleep” somehow climbs up onto that giant bed and goes ah yes this feels right and familiar (probably didn’t help that the crew calls him pops and she is like pops? Like papa? I sleep with papa and mama. Mama and papa gone. I no like. New papa? New papa. My papa. Sleep now.) and just melts and cuddles up to him holding her bunny tight falling fast asleep.
Wow this is really specific. I mean this completely genuinely, have some of you anons considered making ocs/dipping your toes into writing yourselves? You've pretty much written your own scenario right here. I got back into writing by chatting with someone I sent long asks to, so I recommend giving it a shot if you're on the fence a all :)
Anyway!
The WBP are the most likely to actually adopt. Everybody else is kind of a deadbeat. Even still, I don't think they'd bring such a young kid along unless there was nowhere safe to drop her off nearby + somebody gets attached. Which is far from impossible.
This kid is either some sole survivor of something horrible, living with adopters deemed unfit for parenting(in which case they likely aren't long for this world), or the dead parents were already connected to the WBP in some way so WB feels some form of connection/responsibility already. Whatever the case, this tiny kid is brought on board.
Real shy like you said, tries to run and hide but won't let go of the massive bunny either so she doesn't get very far... probably does the little kid thing where she sits behind a box or a curtain and thinks she's hidden just because she can't see any of them. They'll humor it, it's better than such a young kid actually finding a proper hiding place and going unsupervised for lord knows how long. Plus it's pretty cute.
Regarding Whitebeard and the sleeping arrangements specifically... I really don't see things working out. First, the kid has to be able to stand the old man's snoring. But hey, I slept through blenders and fire alarms as a kid, so it's possible! But on the other hand...
If Whitebeard rolls over or hell, just moves an arm wrong, he could crush the poor kid. Luckily, he wakes up as soon as she curls up with him. Maybe even sooner, the pitter-patter of her little feet against the floor enough to get his attention. This is the guy who woke up to fend off Ace's knife attack at the last moment, after all. He stays still, making his mind up to scold his adult children for their lapse in care in the morning- she shouldn't be able to sneak by them. That's ridiculous.
But he's not a monster. He's not gonna kick the poor thing out, especially not if she hasn't done much else to get closer to anyone. She clambers her way up onto the bed, dragging the rabbit up with her as she curls up in the strip of space between his arm and his body. And the little whispered murmur of "Papa" once she settles gets him good. So he sighs, resigning himself to a sleepless night, slowly moving his massive hand closer to cradle the poor thing. It's enough to cover her and the rabbit both. He'll be scolded by Marco and the nurses for not getting his rest, and he'll scold his other children for letting the kid sneak into his room in the first place.
It's fine, though. If she insists on sleeping in Papa's room after that night, he has them move a smaller bed in next to his to minimize the risk of squishing. Kind of like a motorcycle side-car but. It's a bed.
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grimestime27 · 2 days ago
Text
On Board
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: mostly fluff!!!
This was written on my phone don’t judge me 🤣
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It was a hot summer day in Virginia. The group had decided to scavenge today for supplies for Alexandria. Life was better since you all had made it to Alexandria. There had been some hard times, but you all persevered and made it through.
Rick was now in charge after Deanna got bitten, succumbing to her injuries when the walkers attacked your safe haven. It took awhile to clean up the mess that was made but it was your all’s home. Life was finally feeling a little normal.
Some of your all’s group lived together. Rick, Michonne, Carl, Judith, Daryl, and you. In the other house was Abraham, Rosita, Eugene, Tara, and Sasha. Carol didn’t sleep much these days, her attitude changing from meek and quiet to strong and outspoken. Of course the lovebirds Maggie and Glenn stayed together.
Daryl, Rick, and Abraham were loading a vehicle, getting ready to go on a run. Michonne was joining them. You and Rosita would take turns going. You weren’t weak, but Rick had handed you Judith in the mean time to get your mind off things, trying to bring a little joy to your day.
Judith loved you. You watched her in your free time when there wasn’t scavenging or other work to be done. Rick insisted that you needed to watch her because she was very fond of you. It was a good feeling that your fearless leader trusted you with one of his most prized possessions, one of the people he was closest to.
“Hi Judith.”, you baby talked her, causing her to smile. “Whatcha doin’ sweet girl?”
You kissed the top of her head, holding her close. She rested her head on you, pacifier in her mouth. Michonne smiled at the sight, coming up beside you before she brushed her hand through Judith’s soft hair.
“Think you could get used to that?”
“This?”
Michonne nodded.
“Maybe.”
Daryl eyed you as he was loading up a vehicle. Truth be told, watching you with Judith was one of his many weaknesses. Hardly anything got to Daryl Dixon but this was one of those things. It almost made him want to have a child of his own with you. But he worried he wouldn’t be a good dad. His dad was shitty growing up. And his mom wasn’t much better. Merle and Daryl had a very hard upbringing.
“We just need to convince Daryl to get on board.”, Michonne smiled at Judith as you continued to hold her, shielding her from the sun.
“I don’t even know if I’m on board.”, you joked. “Even though Judith here does make it pretty convincing.”
Judith giggled lightly as you tickled her. It was beautiful to have a child around. She brought light back into your all’s lives. Even on the darkest days.
“Look Judith, it’s Uncle Daryl.”, you smirked at him as he came over to the both of you.
“Aw, what’s my pretty girl up t’?”, Daryl eyed her. “Want Uncle Daryl to hold ya?”
Judith reached out her small arms causing you to scoff playfully. “Really Daryl?”
“Sorry sweetheart. She’s made her choice.”
Daryl smirked. You rolled your eyes as Daryl took her out of your arms. Michonne watched for your reaction as Daryl interacted with Judith, causing her to smile and laugh. You couldn’t help but do the same, watching the man you love.
Daryl was hard and cold at first, but as you got to know him, that changed. He opened up to you and showed you the soft side of him you never knew was there under his hard exterior. Things changed, you lost people, and you all became closer.
So close that you all had began a relationship. This world was cold but he made it better. He was the first thing you woke up to and the last thing you kissed goodnight. As long as he was with you, the world would be tolerable. Things would be okay.
Michonne and Rick had began a romantic relationship, much to everyone’s surprise. Almost as surprising as when the group found out about you and Daryl. You watched Daryl bounce Judith, he was practically a natural. Rick and Michonne kissed, signaling their departure was near.
“Ready Daryl?”, Rick asked as Michonne climbed into the vehicle.
Daryl looked at Rick, this question bringing him out of his daze. “Yeah.”
Daryl came over to you, leaning over to kiss you with Judith still in his arms. The kiss was slow. You knew why Daryl did this but you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. He was afraid he wouldn’t come home. This could very well be your last kiss.
“I love ya, Y/N.”
“I love you, Daryl. Be safe, please.”
Daryl nodded. “D’ my best sweetheart.”
“Wrap it up Romeo.”, Abraham joked, laughing as Daryl glared back at him.
Daryl flipped him off, causing him to laugh even louder.
“Daryl,”, you scolded him softly. “Not in front of Judith.”
Daryl sighed, apologizing to Judith before kissing her on the head. She just smiled up at him.
“Alright pretty girl, time t’ go back to Aunt Y/N.”, Daryl moved closer, handing her off to you.
You all shared one more kiss and he told you he’d be home soon. Rick came over and kissed Judith goodbye, telling her the same thing. You helped her wave goodbye to her daddy and the rest of the group as Daryl took one last look at you before getting in the car. You watched the car pull out, stopping at the gates before someone unlocked it, a trail of dust following them.
Looking at Judith, you shifted your focus to her. “Just me and you Judith. Let’s go inside and take a nap.”
Carl stayed back to help keep Alexandria safe. He was in the house, grabbing some water. He greeted you with a hug and you told him you were going to try and put Judith down for a nap. You told him you’d make dinner in a few hours.
Being a typical teenage boy, he acknowledged you silently and left the house with his gun.
Hours passed and dusk began to set in as you tried to focus on anything other than Daryl and the group. A knock came to the door, throwing you off. Judith was playing in the floor with her toys. You quickly ran to open the door, finding Carol.
“Need some help with dinner?”
“That’d actually be great.”
Carol came in and began helping you make a casserole. She had became quite the cook since being at Alexandria. Once it was finished, you placed Judith in her high chair and called Carl to come eat. He had taken a huge interest in Enid, a teenage girl at Alexandria. Maybe love was in the air.
Once dinner was over, Carol helped you clean up. It was easy to get Judith to sleep after her bottle. She was out like a light.
“Well, I guess I’m going to be on my way. Need anything else Y/N?”
“I’m good Carol. Thank you.”
She waved it off, saying it was no problem. You sat in peaceful silence, feeling even better now that Carl was home. This was in stark contrast to being out on the road for so long. Tiredness was sitting in and before you had known it, you were fast asleep with Judith in your arms on the couch.
How many hours had passed? You weren’t sure.
“Sweetheart.”
You jumped easily, startling yourself out of your sleep and quickly opening your eyes to see Daryl standing above you.
“S’ alright, sweetheart. Just me.”
Judith barely stirred as you immediately relaxed your muscles.
“You scared me.”
“I know. ‘M sorry sweetheart.”
Daryl took in the sight of you sleepy and holding a sleeping Judith before he sat down beside you.
“Is everyone okay?”, you asked softly.
Daryl nodded. “All safe’n sound.”
“Thank God.”
“Want me to take Judith and put her to bed so we can lay down?”
“If you have to.”
Daryl chuckled softly. “You’re exhausted. What’d y’all do today?”
Gently, you let Daryl take Judith out of your arms. She barely moved, snuggling into Daryl’s chest.
“Napped, played, and made dinner.”
“Busy day.”
“What about you?”
“Killed some walkers, found lots of supplies. Just another day in paradise.” Daryl smirked, joking.
You nodded before he leaned in, kissing you.
“Can I ask ya somethin’?”
Your heart dropped into your stomach.
“Sure, what’s up?”
You were awake now, sitting up.
Daryl sighed, trying to muster up the courage to ask you. He was afraid of the answer but he needed to know. His perspective on life had changed lately. Maybe he could have a good life after all.
“I was wonderin’ “, he began, looking down at Judith before looking back up at you.
Your look begged him to continue.
“Would you ever want one of these?”, he motioned to Judith.
“A….baby?”, you question and he felt like he had fucked up.
“It’s silly, ain’t it? Nevermind.”, Daryl sighed, looking away.
You grabbed his chin softly, bringing his face to look up at you. “That’s not silly, Daryl.”
Daryl’s face relaxed. You ran your thumb over his stubble.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”, Daryl repeated, making sure he had heard you correctly.
“Yes.”, you confirmed.
“Sure, y’wanna a little Dixon runnin’ around?”
“I’d love nothing more.”, you whispered lightly before you and Daryl shared a kiss before Rick and Michonne walked in.
“Are we interrupting something?”, Rick laughed.
“Maybe we’re both on board.”
You knew Rick wouldn’t have any idea of what that meant but all Michonne could do was smile.
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sellasstories · 2 days ago
Text
UNFOLD (I)
word count: 2.0k
main characters: cameron brink, hailey van lith
⚠️warnings⚠️
swearing
summary:
cam’s guide to making friends at the fiba U17 world cup (don’t do as she does, though)
hailey’s guide to getting a best friend at the fiba U17 world cup and then helping said friend make other friends
obligatory background pazzi
Cameron Brink is sixteen years old, and it’s nothing like she thought it was going to be. Six years ago, if you’d told her that at she’d be staring at her name on the finalized list of players on a FIBA Basketball World Cup team, she knows she would’ve wrinkled her nose in disgust and gone off to draw or paint. But as she allows a small smile to cross her face as a deep feeling of relief floods her body, she can’t help but look outward.
All around her, the other girls (her future teammates, she thinks nervously) chatter and push each other around in excitement while she stays rooted to the spot, hands fisting the bottom of her shirt in an attempt to not take up too much space. She’s made her choice; this is going to be her life now, so she had better learn to love everything about it. It’s not a sobering realization exactly, just something that she can’t help but see as another hurdle in her journey to feeling like she truly belongs somewhere.
Cam has participated in enough conversations over the past few days to know that everyone else here has lived and breathed basketball practically from the womb, and it only intensifies the disconnect she feels from the rest of the group. She knows she’s good enough to be here, she just hasn’t figured out how to match the assurance and swagger of her teammates that already have the sport running through their veins.
She takes a deep breath, looking more closely at her surroundings. Azzi was one of the more quiet girls, but she’d been nice all week… maybe she’d be good to talk to? Cam takes all of one step in her direction before she sees another blonde practically catapult herself onto the youngest member of the team, freezing her in her tracks. Cam instantly recognizes Paige, the #1 ranked player in their class, and shakes her head. No way she’s getting in the middle of whatever is building between the two of them.
A persistent tapping on her lower back nearly makes Cam jump as she tears her eyes away from the two guards in front of her. She whips around to see Hailey jerking back to avoid getting hit by her braid. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry,” she says quickly.
Hailey shrugs. “No worries. Can you move real quick, though? All the posts are crowding the list and I can’t even see if my name is on it.” Her tone is casual, but it’s hard to miss her furrowed brows and clenched jaw as she tried to see around the taller girl.
Cam feels her cheeks heating up as she scrambles out of the way. “My bad, um, your name is on there-” she slaps her hand over mouth, realizing that the shorter girl may have wanted to read it herself, “-fuck, I should’ve just let you see, I’m so, so sorry!”
She trails off again when she sees the huge grin on Hailey’s face. The normally serious girl has gone completely still as she beams up at Cam. “What the fuck are you apologizing for? This is the best day of my fucking life!” She shrieks, grabbing both of Cam’s hands and beginning to jump around as her energy returns.
Slightly self-conscious (and wary of her ponytail), Cam hesitates for a moment before joining in. Looking around once again, she accidentally makes eye contact with Fran and is quick to avert her eyes at the slight smirk from the older girl. A Drake song starts blasting from the gym speakers, and as Cam lets Hailey dance around with her, she thinks that maybe she fits in just a little bit.
• • • • •
The Brinks might have been more excited than their daughter, who they needed no encouragement from to start booking flights and hotels so they could watch the whole tournament in Belarus. Cam was grateful to have them there, but disappointed when she learned how strict the team travel policies were.
She knows that she’s probably too old to be wanting to sit next to her mom on the plane, but she misses the comforting presence as the plane speeds down the runway. Luckily, she’s sitting next to Azzi, someone who, in the short amount of time that they’ve known each other, has become something close to a friend. There are certainly worse places to be sitting.
“You good with planes?” The dark-haired girl asks abruptly. “Paige isn’t, she was telling me on FaceTime last night.”
“Yeah, I’ll be ok,” Cam is quick to assure her. “I’m not gonna, like, throw up on you or anything.”
“Mm,” Azzi responds absently, attention clearly elsewhere. Cam follows her line of sight, not surprised when it leads to Paige.
“You really like her, huh?” Cam can’t miss the soft look in Azzi’s eyes.
The guard blinks, carefully smoothing her features. Seeing Cam’s genuine smile, she relaxes a bit. “Yeah, I really do.”
“Well, I hope you get married someday.”
“Married?” Azzi says incredulously. “That’s not even- slow down, we’re just friends.”
Cam raises her hands in surrender. “Whatever you say. I just hope it all works out, really.”
Azzi shakes her head in mock annoyance. “You’re so weird.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Cam knows Azzi didn’t mean anything by it, but it still stings. Not knowing what else to say, they lapse into silence.
Azzi must notice the shift in Cam’s demeanour because she extends an olive branch in the form of a question about the older girl’s mom. The two of them discover that they have more in common than they thought. In between hours of sleep, they’re able to keep up a light flow of conversation about their families, dogs, and mutual love of romance novels.
They’re both soundly asleep when Cam is awoken by repeated tapping on her shoulder. Her eyes fly open and she’s struck with a sense of deja vu when she’s greeted by Hailey’s face uncomfortably close to her own. Slightly unsettled, she instinctively presses her back farther into her seat.
“Finally! I was gonna do something drastic if that took any longer,” Hailey whispers impatiently.
Ignoring her, Cam glances out the window. Sure enough, it’s still pitch black. Rubbing her eyes, she realizes that Hailey has Paige in tow. The two guards are standing awkwardly in the aisle, struggling to keep a low profile.
“What was so urgent that you just had to wake me up at-” Cam checks her phone, “-four in the morning?”
Hailey shrugs. “We have important things to discuss. Oh, and that one-” she jerks her thumb at Paige standing behind her, “-wanted to sit with her girlfriend or whatever.”
“I did not!” Paige exclaims.
“So you didn’t wanna sit with her, then?” Hailey fires back.
Paige throws up her hands in defeat. “Ok, I did, but she’s not my girlfr- you know what, never mind.”
“That’s what I thought,” Hailey turns back to Cam. “Anyway, the whole point of this was getting you to come sit with me.” She extends a hand to the taller girl. “Cmon, I promise we’ll have fun.”
Still a little disoriented, Cam grabs a few things and manages to avoid banging her head on the ceiling as she stands. All the noise and shuffling finally wakes Azzi, who unexpectedly grabs Cam’s arm and pulls her back down.
“What’s going on?” She mumbles sleepily, resting her head on Cam’s shoulder.
The taller girl is a little taken aback, but she hopes that this means Azzi might actually like her. “Honestly, I’m not really sure,” she whispers back. “Paige is here, though, and I think I’m gonna go with Hailey for a bit.”
Azzi perks up at the mention of Paige. “Have fun, I guess,” she yawns, already looking for her best friend.
“You too,” Cam can’t resist giving her a playful nudge before she stands up again. This time she does bang her head, cursing as she steps into the aisle.
“It’s still weird hearing you cuss,” Hailey remarks as she leads them to her seat.
“What? I do it all the time,” Cam whines.
“You’re just too… innocent, I guess? It just feels wrong to me.” Hailey finishes buckling her seat belt. She looks up at Cam with a smirk. “Watch your head!”
“Fuck off,” Cam mutters, smiling despite herself.
“Be nice, I left the aisle for your lanky ass. And by the way, still weird hearing you say it,” Hailey nods like she’s just confirmed a hypothesis.
“Are we not the same age? I thought Azzi was the only young one here.” Cam leans back in her seat, eyes already sliding closed.
“I’m a few months older, but that’s not even important,” Hailey tilts her head. “It’s all about the vibe, y’know?”
“I guess, but more importantly, why do you know when my birthday is? Did you stalk me or something?” The shorter girl’s unabashed nod makes Cam pause. “I’d have to imagine that’s a lot weirder than anything I do.”
“I guess we’re both weird, then,” Hailey concedes. “But I had a good reason, I promise.”
Cam raises an eyebrow. “And what was it?”
“Because you’re sexy,” Hailey deadpans, laughing maniacally when Cam turns bright red. “No, for real though, I just needed to find out more about my future best friend.”
“So we’re best friends now?”
“We will be for this tournament, at least.” Hailey says confidently. It’s a statement, an assurance, not a question, and Cam is suddenly jealous of how easily the words come out.
“I’d like that,” she admits, her voice a little quieter than before.
“And I’m gonna figure you out,” Hailey says almost to herself.
Cam laughs self-consciously. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Hailey says nonchalantly. She pulls out her AirPods and offers one to Cam. “We can listen to whatever you want.”
The younger girl’s hand stills abruptly. “If I take this, will you tell me what you meant?”
“Fineee,” Hailey drags out the word. “I just don’t get you. You talk to me fine — talk back to me, even — but I don’t think I’ve seen you have a real conversation with even three other people on this team.”
“That’s not true,” Cam protests.
“Who, then?”
“Well, there’s Azzi-“ Hailey rolls her eyes, “-and Paige, I guess? Maybe Hayley?” Cam lowers her gaze in defeat. She plucks the AirPod from Hailey’s outstretched hand. “Fine, I get it.”
“Hey, it’s okay, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Hailey makes sure her genuineness comes across. “Just, why me?”
Cam shrugs noncommittally. “It’s just hard sometimes, I guess? Plus, you won’t leave me alone- I don’t mind though,” she’s quick to add. “It’s a little easier with you, somehow.”
Hailey hums, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Wordlessly, she hands Cam her unlocked phone with all her downloaded songs.
They listen in silence for a while before Hailey taps Cam’s shoulder yet again. “Sorry, I can’t sleep,” she sighs. “Who knew that flights over ten hours would be so uncomfortable?”
“Me, actually. I lived in Amsterdam for three years and going back and forth was terrible,” Cam says shyly.
“Wait, are you serious? Tell me everything!” Hailey knows she probably sounds unreasonably excited, but she’s determined to learn everything that she can about Cam.
The taller girl recounts her favourite moments, and the conversation jumps from there, somehow getting to how Hailey got her seatmate (Hayley, the irony isn’t lost on either of them) to go sit with Paige’s seatmate (Fran) so that her and Paige could then end up next to Cam and Azzi respectively. She takes credit for remembering that Hayley and Fran are both committed to Stanford, and Cam giggles while giving her a round of applause.
When they both start to drift off, Cam lets Hailey settle on her shoulder, and it feels like the start of something. The younger girl doesn’t realize it, but since she and Hailey sat down, she hasn’t missed her parents at all.
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duhshereadz · 1 day ago
Text
Ekko teaches Jinx how to ride a hoverboard:
The air in the Firelight base hummed with life—metal groans of scaffolding shifting, the faint whir of machinery, and laughter from the kids darting around. But in a quiet corner, Ekko stood with his arms crossed, leaning against a crate, smirking as he glanced at Jinx.
She perched on another crate nearby, her long, thin braids draping to the floor in a tangled cascade. Her pink eyes glimmered with their usual mischief as she fidgeted with a small trinket in her hands, spinning it between her fingers. “So,” she started, her grin widening as she tilted her head, “you gonna let me ride this thing, or are we just here for your amusement?”
Ekko raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. “Oh, it’s definitely for my amusement,” he teased, nodding toward the hoverboard standing beside him. “But if you’re real nice, I might teach you how not to break your neck on it.”
“Pfft,” Jinx scoffed, tossing the trinket over her shoulder like it didn’t matter. “You’re just scared I’ll be better than you. Admit it.” She stood up, practically bouncing on her toes as she closed the gap between them.
“You? Better than me?” Ekko said, pretending to look deeply skeptical. “I mean, you are good at blowing stuff up, but this takes actual skill.”
Her pink eyes narrowed playfully, and she jabbed a finger at his chest. “I’ll have you know I’m great at everything—except rules. Suck at those. But balance? Speed? Danger? That’s my thing, Zippy.”
Ekko groaned, running a hand down his face. “If you keep calling me that, I might change my mind.”
She grinned, stepping onto the board with zero hesitation. “Too late!”
The board wobbled violently under her weight, and for a moment, Jinx’s grin faltered as her arms flailed for balance. She grabbed Ekko’s arm with a sharp yelp. “This thing’s trying to kill me!”
Ekko laughed, his voice light and warm. “No, you’re trying to kill yourself. You can’t just jump on like that—you gotta ease into it.” He placed a steadying hand on her waist, guiding her back to center.
Her cheeks flushed, but she tilted her head, smirking up at him. “You just like touching me, don’t you?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said dryly, stepping back before she could make it more awkward. “It’s not because you almost faceplanted or anything.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, still wobbling slightly but managing to stay upright. “Alright, Mr. Know-It-All. What’s the secret, huh?”
He moved behind her, hands gently resting on her shoulders to keep her steady. “The board reacts to how you shift your weight, so stop moving around like a lunatic. Stand still, keep your feet flat, and let it level out.”
Jinx inhaled dramatically, stiffening like a statue. “Standing still. Got it. Like a rock. A super cool, badass rock.”
Ekko chuckled. “Yeah, sure. A badass rock.”
After a few moments, the board stopped shaking, hovering smoothly beneath her. Ekko grinned. “There you go. Now lean forward—slowly. Not all at once, or you’re gonna go flying.”
She leaned forward, her movements careful for once. The board responded, gliding forward a few inches. Jinx’s eyes lit up, her grin returning full force. “Holy crap, it’s working! I’m doing it!”
“Of course, it’s working,” Ekko said, walking beside her. “You’re not completely hopeless.”
“Wow, such high praise,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. But her joy was palpable as she started experimenting, leaning a little more and picking up speed.
Ekko smirked, stepping onto his own board. With a single smooth motion, he zipped past her. “Alright, let’s see if you can keep up, Jinx.”
“Oh, you’re on, Ekko!” she shouted, leaning forward and speeding after him.
The base turned into their playground. They wove between crates and beams, their laughter echoing in the vast space. Jinx was wild, taking every turn too sharply and almost crashing more than once, but her joy was infectious.
Ekko slowed as they neared the tree at the heart of the base. The glow of its arcane roots bathed them in soft light, and he hopped off his board, leaning casually against it. Jinx skidded to a stop beside him, panting slightly but grinning like she’d just conquered the world.
“Not bad,” he admitted, his brown eyes glinting with approval.
“Not bad?” she repeated, feigning outrage. “I was amazing! I was like—like a star falling through the sky or something!”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, a star that almost slammed into a wall three times.”
She elbowed him lightly, her grin softening as her gaze drifted upward. The stars glittered above them, their light almost shy compared to the arcane glow. “Kinda nice out here, huh?”
Ekko’s smile faded into something gentler as he watched her. “Yeah. It is.”
She turned to him, her pink eyes unusually calm. “Thanks, y’know. For teaching me. For putting up with my crap.”
He hesitated, his chest tightening at her rare moment of vulnerability. Slowly, he leaned closer, his voice quiet. “Always.”
Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away as he closed the gap, brushing his lips against hers. The kiss was soft, unhurried, filled with a care neither of them quite knew how to put into words.
When they pulled back, Jinx blinked, her grin creeping back as she tried to hide how flustered she was. “Okay, maybe you’re not completely terrible at this.”
Ekko chuckled, stepping onto his board and motioning for her to follow. “Come on, Jinx. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
They took off into the night, their boards weaving in tandem under the stars. For once, the chaos of the world felt far away, leaving only the sound of their laughter and the hum of the boards as they soared together.
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antinousletmehit · 8 hours ago
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my time has come
hear me out a odysseus x fem reader but with a twist. odysseus and penelope had to get married and bear telemachus altough they were not in love, they were just friends attending their duty, but then theres the reader, childhood friend of ody who he is in love with and codependent, and she goes to war with him and everything that happened in epic, and just the both of them survive everything
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୨୧┇pairing: Odyssues x reader
────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───
The stars hung heavy over the shores of Ogygia, their light fractured and reflected by the restless waves. The scent of salt and wildflowers mingled in the warm night air as Odysseus sat by the fire, his shoulders hunched and his face carved with exhaustion.
You watched him from a short distance, hesitant to disturb his solitude. The man who had once been larger than life, the clever hero of Ithaca, the warrior who had survived gods and monsters, looked so small against the vastness of the sea.
He didn’t notice you at first when you walked up behind him, the soft crunch of sand beneath your feet swallowed by the sound of waves. It was only when you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder that he looked up, startled but quickly softening when he saw it was you.
“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked quietly, sitting beside him.
He shook his head, his eyes returning to the fire. “No. It’s hard to find peace when the past weighs so heavily.” You nodded, folding your legs beneath you. “It’s hard to leave it behind when it’s all we’ve known for so long.”
For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the fire crackling between you.
“It feels endless,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “Every time I think we’re one step closer to home, something else pulls us back. Another storm, another curse, another demand from the gods.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “I don’t even know if there’s a home left to return to.”
“There is,” you said firmly, your hand brushing against his. “Penelope is waiting for you. Telemachus is waiting. Ithaca is waiting.” Odysseus closed his eyes, his head dipping forward. “And yet, I’ve dragged all of you into this. My choices, my mistakes…you shouldn’t have had to endure any of it.”
You reached out, placing your hand over his. “We followed you because we believe in you, Odysseus. Not because we had to, but because we wanted to.” His lips twitched into a faint, bitter smile. “And where has that belief led you? Shipwrecked on an island with a selfish fool who thought he could outwit the gods.”
You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “It’s led us here. Alive. Together. And that’s worth something, isn’t it?” He finally looked at you then, his storm-gray eyes searching your face. “Do you regret it? Staying with me through all of this?”
“Never,” you said without hesitation. “You’ve carried so much, Odysseus. More than anyone should. But you don’t have to carry it alone.”
His gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked like the man you remembered from before the war—the man with a quick wit and a heart full of hope. “I don’t deserve your kindness,” he murmured.
“You deserve far more than you give yourself credit for,” you countered, leaning closer. “You’ve kept us alive, Odysseus. You’ve given us hope when there was none. You’ve fought for us, protected us, led us through hell and back. Don’t you see? I’m still here because of you.” He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if a great weight had finally been lifted. “You have a way with words,” he said softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Must’ve picked it up from you,” you replied, earning a quiet chuckle. For the first time in what felt like years, Odysseus relaxed. He leaned back, his head tilting up to the stars. “Thank you,” he said after a long silence. “For staying. For reminding me why I keep fighting.”
You rested your head against his shoulder, the warmth of the fire and the steady sound of the waves lulling you both into a rare moment of peace. “We’ll get home,” you whispered. “Together.”
And for the first time in a long while, Odysseus believed it.
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bloody-arty-myths · 23 days ago
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Not my father going through my stuff I (unwillingly) left back in Vienna and finding private things: pose references, my notes, old art & sketches (including one of a dick..). How many times will this man invade my privacy? I’m 17, not 5. Why did he have to get worse beginning last year, what changed?
All he does is make his children resent him - I do, my sister does and soon my brother will, too. What’s funny is that he left us here anyway, while travelling back to Vienna for work. Talk about wanting to keep the fam together.. Broski will deny abusing his children (even tho he did) and say it was discipline (your second daughter had bad bruises on her legs and her hands - her hands still looks wrong to this day - and then you threatened to bury her alive). You did all that while your sons (11,8 & 4) were watching. Me and mother couldn’t do nothing bc you POS threatened to give us the same treatment. Looking back, if he were to kill somebody, he’d get jailed.
I should have called the police on my father last year, after he sent my sister to our homeland (where we reside rn). I regret every decision I made this summer, I regret not telling my teachers the whole truth, I regret being a cowardly pushover who didn’t do shit to keep my family safe. I will forever curse my parents for getting married at 18 and bringing me into this world, I will never forgive them, never.
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atopvisenyashill · 4 months ago
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do love how this is an asoiaf blog but i did not put either show in my top 10 this is the world we live in
#the only season that really compares to the book is season 1.#the rest even when they’re engaging have changed something that feels so central to the hook that i’m mad aksjd.#getting on my soap box#if iwtv s3 is good it may knock someone out. probably qaf.#bsg is p high up there i just think season 4 really suffered on pacing & the suspicious nature of who dies annoyed me.#veep is also very high up there tbh i need to rewatch it. the thing is. as we know. i am a romantic at heart and amy & jonah have my favorit#sitcom relationship. veep has genuinely one of the best finales to ever exist but i’m a sap.#and amy coming back to tell jonah that he made her realize she doesn’t actually have to expect the worst from life. oh my god.#also superstore >>> parks & rec >>> the office bc superstore never romanticized the hell of their job#amy quitting her corporate job when she realized she would never be able to make the changes she wanted within the system she was always#going to compromise too much and wind up like jeff. glenn reopening his dad’s hardware shop & specifically who goes w him & who stays w gina#at the store? it has what the other two lack which is characters that feel like they keep existing after you stop watching#BECAUSE the way they interacted with the world was so real and so much more realistic. amy can’t fix the system but she can find a job that#she doesn’t feel is so soul sucking. glenn may be choosing a harder path by reopening the hardware store but it’s the one that makes him#most fulfilled. gina just gets to make money and be bossy w people who do what they’re told. that rings so true to me.#i almost out bojack horseman in here too actually but once again i think the last season just needed to be a tad longer just like bsg.#also same issue w pitch as w bly manor - it’s an amazingly written season of tv but it’s ONE season of tv#big brother as always outsells yes i am hoping to tempt some of u into watching by posting dan & ian in the dog costume#i have that gif and the ‘sit’ scene saved on my phone always
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thismission · 1 year ago
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major ofmd s2 spoilers but it’s kind of beautiful in a way to see the youngins call That character dying a “typical” bury your gays trope, in a show that is specifically about queer love filled with queer characters who have happy endings, where both casual and passionate gay affection is shown again and again, and always portrayed as something beautiful and tender and good to be embraced
#ofmd s2#ofmd spoilers#‘typical’ bury your gays.......... 😭#y’all rly have no idea what it’s like to NEVER see yourself portrayed unless it ends in a violent tragic death huh#specifically targeted BECAUSE the character is queer#and i say this genuinely with love like that’s why it’s also pretty nice. i’m glad such a point has been reached#but also omg. experiencing sadness and disappointment over a writing decision for your fav doesn’t make it a hate crime#personally i thought it happening was rly uninspired and predictable so kind of feel nothing over it because it’s so blah#feel like they just straight up didn’t know what to do with him#also s3 hasn’t been confirmed has it?? bc this season def felt like they shoved what was supposed to be a 20eps arc into 8eps#and there won’t be more. idk#but IF there is i need him to come back as the ship’s ghost fucking with everyone lmao#anyway i'm not even that old and when i was 12 i watched brokeback mountain and when i was 13 it was boys don't cry#and that was basically ALL i'd seen for big queer rep in media. like literally only thing ever#and the fear it instilled truly was part of me rejecting my own queerness for so long#who would look at izzy hands & go welp better stay cishet for the rest of my life or the devil will come for me; thats def the lesson here#if anything the end scene was about how happy he could’ve been if he’d realized earlier he had a whole queer fam who loved & accepted him#just as he is#END ESSAY
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dancing-with-stars · 1 year ago
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i am losing my mind
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birdy-bird27 · 10 months ago
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I think I need to go to sleep soon my brain is once again is being haunted by the sad thoughts
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