#Imagine getting a five star when you didn't want one...

[storybenderstudios]

f*ck me. I need Sucrose. I also want Ororon. Do ya THINK maybe mihoyo would've been considerate and put Sucrose or Ororon in stage 2????

Of course not. I'm gonna have to do 10 single pulls and literally pray that I don't pull Lyney or Chasca now....yAy... (backstory on this, I have a guaranteed limited five star with 40 pity, planned on saving it for Neuvillette or Arlecchino, whoever came first, found out Ororon was being released, was conflicted, built a team for Neuvillette anyways, needed a good swirl anemo, told everyone that it would be great if Sucrose reran with Nevillette since she's a fairly great swirl anemo, and found out the phase four stars this morning - !!!)

I'm cooked.

Any thoughts on the likelihood of me accidentally pulling a five star ;-;

[joycrispy]

I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.

Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."

Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.

Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.

Something like this:

We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--

--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.

But it turns out he was this:

!!!

With his curly little--!!

And his neat white--!!

IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:

"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."

(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)

In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.

In sum...an innocent.

(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.

We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.

Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)

So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--

*checks notes*

--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.

...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.

All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?

He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.

That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...

...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.

Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."

And what reason does he give?

("I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were.")

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

("The angel you knew is not me."

But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)

tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.

'Innocence died screaming' and all that.

[kxsagi]

Salutationsss, hiii, I'm the same anon that sent a request, something abt a nerd readerr, I'm sorry for requesting when you weren't taking at the time! I didn't see 😔. But could I req that same trope again?? Thank so much you for your time!

“𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 🤓☝️”

a/n: hiii you’re all good, but unfortunately i don’t have that request anymore so i’m not sure what specifically you requested

bc of that, i turned this into headcanons and i hope you don’t mind! 

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, bachira meguru

isagi yoichi

yoichi thought he was smart until he started dating you. like sure, he knows tactics, he’s got game IQ, but you? you’re out here solving riddles on a whiteboard like it’s nothing. 

he once asked if you wanted to watch a documentary with him and you said “only if it’s narrated by joe dispenza or has a plot twist at the 30-minute mark.” 

he genuinely thinks you have a superpower. how else do you know this much random stuff? 

"you know how many stars are in the milky way galaxy?" you ask. "no," he says. "good. neither do scientists. but i will ruin your sleep schedule by explaining dark matter." 

yoichi gets this glazed-over look when you go off, like he’s watching god speak through you. 

“bro, how do you know all this?” he whispers in awe as you explain entropy using a sandwich. 

he’s not even mad when you correct his grammar in front of people. in fact, he gets a little flustered. "did you just… teach me something in public? … hot. whatwhosaidthat." 

itoshi rin

rin fell for you after overhearing you quote dostoevsky and then immediately say “but also, the scooby-doo gang was gay-coded.” 

he will die before admitting how hot he finds your brain. like, he’ll glare at you when you start infodumping about the history of the guillotine, but that glare is just him trying not to fall for you. 

you send him 20-slide powerpoints at 3 AM about why light yagami was right, and he reads every single one. he’s unwell. 

once he saw you organizing your bookshelf by theme, subgenre, and emotional damage, and he just… stood there. watching. blinking. 

“you okay?” you ask. “… can i kiss you right now or is that, like, a breach of the fibonacci sequence or whatever.” 

he has an entire notes app folder full of weird phrases you say. once you said “i want to kiss you under the fluorescent lights of an abandoned lab” and he had to take a walk. 

god help anyone who tries to outsmart you because rin doesn’t even jump in to help. he just steps aside like, “yeah, go ahead. she’s got it.” 

itoshi sae

sae met you once and immediately started saying “shut up, nerd” in the most loving tone imaginable. 

like yeah he acts unbothered, but if you stop talking about your interests for five seconds he’s like “… why’d you stop?” 

you once brought a clipboard and a graph to explain how his sleep schedule is ruining his skin elasticity. he hasn’t eaten sugar since. 

he’s obsessed with how you argue. like, someone will say, “i didn’t really like that movie” and you’ll go, “well actually, the entire point of the cinematography was to mimic isolation, so your brain’s just too small for the themes.” 

and sae’s in the corner nodding proudly like “yeah. eat ‘em alive, baby.” 

he won’t ever admit it out loud, but if you ever stopped being smart? he would simply perish. 

also: he absolutely starts fights on twitter just to screenshot them and send them to you like “babe, look what this idiot said. go ruin him.” 

kaiser michael

oh he lives for this. the way you ramble about history and sprinkle in “violence”? he is down BAD. 

kaiser will interrupt you mid-rant just to be annoying. like you’re explaining molecular structures and he goes “explain it to me like i’m five… and make it sexy.” “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.” “well then i am the powerhouse of this relationship.” “please stop talking.” 

if you cosplay? he is fully in character. fake accent. dramatic monologue. he once spent $200 on a fake sword just to match your anime aesthetic. 

calls you “my little google doc” or “professor schatz” in public and refuses to stop. 

he 100% cheats off your notes if you take a class together. 

also once used your obsession with linguistics as an excuse to kiss you mid-sentence: “wait wait, how do you pronounce lo–” smooch “oops. distracted you. guess i win.” 

you're the only person on earth that can out-argue him. and he loves it. even when you humiliate him in a debate club meeting in front of six people. especially then. 

mikage reo

rich. nerd. simp. this man once bought you a whiteboard wall so you could explain conspiracy theories and niche film symbolism uninterrupted. 

he funds your hobbies like it’s a government project. need 72 highlighters in pastel? boom. got ‘em. a limited edition sailor moon notebook with gold foil? already shipped. “i just need this for journaling, reo.” “you mean world domination. say less.” 

he loves pretending he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about just to hear you explain it like a teacher. 

he’ll sit there all wide-eyed like, “woah, tell me more about black holes.” 

you once built a 3D model of the solar system for fun. he walked in, saw saturn, and said, “hey babe. just like saturn, i’ll adorn you with the most beautiful rings in the universe.” 

he once got jealous because you were paying more attention to your manga than him. “you’ve been reading for three hours.” “i’m at the part where they confess their undying love, you can’t interrupt now–” “… i’ll confess my undying love right now if it gets me eye contact.” 

nagi seishiro

nagi doesn’t understand a single thing you’re talking about, but he loves the way you talk. 

you could be explaining the lifecycle of a parasite and he’d just go “cool... say that again but slower. it sounded pretty.” 

he gets very attached to your reading time. you’ll be curled up with a book and he’ll just drape himself over you like a weighted blanket and nap while you whisper lore. 

you tried to teach him a game strategy once using chess pieces and he got bored halfway through and started kissing your neck. “sei, focus.” “i am focused. on the smartest person i know.” 

he secretly loves it when you make schedules, take notes, organize everything – he feels calmer with your brain leading the way. 

you once said, “i’d choose you even in a logic simulation.” and he got so flustered he forgot how to hold his phone for five minutes. 

shidou ryusei

you are the one person on earth who intimidates him. not because you’re loud, but because you’re smart and savage. 

he’ll say something like “gravity’s a myth” and you’ll deadpan, “so is your personality.” 

he flirts with you just to hear what kind of insults you’ll hurl back. 

you’ll be like “actually, that’s a misinterpretation of the theory of relativity” and he’ll be like “wow. you wanna kiss me or correct me harder, nerdzilla?” 

he once called your bookshelf a “nerd shrine” and you kicked him out. he came back with snacks and a post-it that said “i’ll behave if you teach me about the holy trinity”. 

he thinks it’s hilarious when you use big words. starts repeating them wrong on purpose. “you’re being extremely cacophonous right now.” “aw, thanks. i try.” 

he says he doesn’t care about your trivia. but the next week, he quotes you during a fight with a ref. “well actually, statistically speaking, you’re 73% more likely to suck.” 

karasu tabito

karasu walked in on you doing sudoku while eating spicy ramen and watching a documentary and went, “yep. that’s my girl.” 

he teases you constantly but don’t let that fool you – he brags about you to everyone. “yeah, she solved a murder mystery in two minutes. sexy, right?” 

he once found your annotated copy of crime and punishment and was like “damn, she’s not just a menace, she’s an educated menace.” 

he makes fun of your color-coded calendar, but then uses it religiously. 

calls your bookbag your “bat-nerd utility belt.” 

you once said “i organize chaos with knowledge” and he choked on his water because how are you both terrifying and hot at the same time. 

he 100% made you a trivia quiz as a date activity and cried when you got a perfect score. 

“i can’t even spell aesthetic,” he sniffled. “but you… you're a weapon of intellect.” 

bachira meguru

bachira thinks your brain is the eighth wonder of the world. he stares at you when you talk like you’re casting a spell. 

he mimics you when you start nerding out. “so actually, the evolution of language–” 

“babe, are you possessed again? blink twice if you’re still in there.” 

he brings you weird niche books from secondhand stores and is like “i got this because it looks cursed. i knew you’d love it.” 

he once watched you do a sudoku puzzle and got jealous of the numbers. “why are you smiling at that box like that.” 

loves playing study music and drawing you while you read. your “reading face” is his favorite thing ever. 

he doesn’t get half the things you say but if someone else calls you a nerd? he’s biting ankles. no hesitation. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[pitlanepeach]

The Long Way Home I Chapter Nine

Oscar Piastri x Harper Grace (OFC)

Summary — When Harper, a kind girl with a guarded heart, meets rising karting star Oscar Piastri at their English boarding school, sparks fly.

It only takes one silly moment of teenaged love for their lives to change forever.

Warnings — Teenage love, growing up together, falling in love, teen pregnancy, no explicit scenes when the characters are underaged (obviously??), strong language, manipulative parents, past death of a parent, dyscalculia, hardly any angst, slice-of-life basically!

Notes — Guys…. I was watching young!Oscar edits before writing this chapter and it’s made me so emotional omg.

Wattpad Link | Series Masterlist

It was colder than it looked.

The wind off the track cut straight through Harper's jumper, even with Mark's spare team jacket draped over her shoulders. It smelled faintly like petrol and stale coffee, but it was warm, and she wasn't about to complain.

Oscar was somewhere past the pit lane, already strapped into the car. The livery was nice — mostly black, matte, with just a splash of deep blue on the sides. The team was new, too. Small. Scrappy. Privately funded and all nerves and duct tape. But Oscar looked right in the car.

He looked like he belonged there.

Harper shifted on the folding chair outside the tent, hands tucked under her thighs to keep them warm. Five and a half months pregnant meant back pain and always being hungry — and maternity tights that itched like hell.

A few mechanics from other teams kept sneaking glances her way.

She couldn't hear them whispering, but she could imagine what they were saying.

"That the girlfriend?"

"Yeah. Christ, they're only fifteen."

"Looks like she's gonna pop any minute..."

Mark handed her a paper cup of tea and sat down beside her without a word. He didn't look at the men. Didn't say anything about the whispers either. He just passed her a packet of Jaffa Cakes and kicked his feet up on the crate beside them like they were sitting at a beach instead of a professional racetrack.

"You alright, kid?" He asked eventually, his voice low and gruff in that Aussie way that sounded more like gravel than concern.

She nodded. "Just a bit tired. And uncomfortable."

He let out a soft grunt of sympathy. "Yeah. I bet."

Harper blinked. "You really never wanted kids?"

"Nah. Not yet. Still got time."

Harper sipped her tea. "Is it mad I'm more nervous than Oscar about today?"

Mark shook his head. "Not mad. Just means you give a shit. Which is nice."

From the garage, the radio crackled to life. Oscar's voice, tinny but steady. "Copy. Track feels good. Brake balance is stable."

Harper let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

One of the press photographers drifted too close, camera already raised. Mark turned his head just slightly, and that was enough. A look — one part ex-racer, one part protector — and the guy scuttled off like he'd nearly stepped on a landmine.

"Thanks," Harper murmured.

"You're with me," Mark said simply, like that explained everything. "They don't get to treat you like a bloody spectacle."

Across the paddock, Oscar's car wheeled into view, engine snarling, tyres twitching with that jumpy, pre-race tension. The pit crew moved in a flurry. Helmet on. Visor down. And then he was gone — off into the formation lap with that twitchy, fast grace he always had when he wasn't thinking too hard.

Harper watched the car disappear around the corner. Her hands curled around her bump.

"I hate this part," she whispered.

"The waiting?" Mark asked.

"The knowing he might crash," she admitted.

Mark nodded like he knew that fear well. "He's good," he said. "Bloody talented. But more than that, he's got the head for it. That's rare."

Harper blinked down at her belly. "Yeah," she said. "He'll be a good dad too."

Mark looked at her — not with pity, not with surprise — but with something older. Like respect.

"I think you're braver than he is," he said after a pause.

"Doubt it," she said quickly.

"Don't," he said. "You're a bloody teenager. But you're here. And you're not hiding."

She didn't answer, but she didn't look away either.

Then a shout went up from the track. The lights went out. The race had begun.

Harper's breath caught.

Oscar's car — P6 on the grid — slotted into the pack like it belonged there. And it wasn't even two laps before he was chasing the front runners, tyres biting, throttle feathered like a pro.

Mark leaned back, arms crossed.

"Told you," he said.

And Harper, despite the murmurs, despite the cold, despite the weight of everything pressing down on her chest — smiled.

Because yeah.

Oscar was flying.

—

The paddock was still buzzing — cars being wheeled off, radios crackling, tyres cooling, mechanics shouting over each other with the wild relief of a clean finish. Somewhere in the distance, someone was setting off an airhorn. Mark was yelling into a phone about tyres.

Oscar ducked under the awning, helmet tucked under his arm, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. His race suit was half-unzipped, tied around his waist, black fireproof undershirt soaked through at the collar.

Harper was already there, perched on a crate by the spare front wing. Her hands were clenched in her lap, face flushed. When she saw him, she stood too fast, steadied herself, and exhaled.

"You finished fifth," she said breathlessly. "Fifth, Osc. Your single seater debut and you finished fifth!"

"I know." He was grinning so hard it barely fit on his face. "I overtook on Copse. Did you see it?"

"Did I—" She gave a strangled laugh. "Yes, I saw it! You nearly gave me a fucking aneurysm."

Oscar dropped his helmet and practically launched himself at her. His arms went around her, careful but tight, like he couldn't decide whether to hold her or just collapse.

Harper melted into the hug, cheek pressed to his shoulder.

"You smell awful," she muttered.

"Victory sweat," he said into her hair. "Don't disrespect it."

She made a noise halfway between a snort and a sob. Her hands clung to the back of his fireproofs, fingers knotting the fabric.

"People were staring," she said quietly. "It'll be all over the forums, soon. Twitter. Instagram. The fifteen year old F4 driver with a pregnant girlfriend." 

"I know."

"I don't want us to have a negative impact on your career."

Oscar's face softened. He glanced around — there were still people watching. Journalists, team members, other drivers. Some looking curiously. Some not bothering to hide their judgment.

He ducked his head, touched his forehead gently to hers. "Let them stare," he murmured. "They don't know you. They don't know us. They don't get to decide anything."

She blinked fast. "I cried during the final lap."

"Mark probably cried too. He's emotionally repressed — that man leaks feelings through his jaw tension."

Harper giggled in spite of herself. "I'm really proud of you, Osc."

Oscar smiled — not the flashy, race-day grin, but the soft, private one he only really gave to her. "Thanks for being here," he said.

"Thanks for not crashing." She whispered.

Oscar looked at her belly. Rested a hand there, carefully, then glanced around awkwardly to make sure nobody was around.

"She kicked right after you overtook that kid in the green car," Harper said softly.

His head turned back to her and his eyes widened. "Wait, really?"

"Swear to God. She's already got road rage."

Oscar laughed.

Then Mark shouted across the garage, "Oi, golden boy — debrief in ten, and put on a bloody shirt before someone files a harassment complaint!"

Oscar winced. "Sorry." He muttered.

Harper shook her head. "Go on. Go be told how amazing and fast and talented you are."

"You staying?"

"Obviously." She said. "I'm going to get a 99 from the ice cream van. Then I'll come back here and wait for you."

Oscar kissed her cheek and jogged off, still bouncing on adrenaline, slipping slightly on a rogue bit of tyre rubber.

Harper sat back down on the crate. Someone was still staring. She stared right back.

Because yeah — she was pregnant. And fifteen.

But her boyfriend had just placed fifth in his first-ever F4 race.

And that was worth staring at.

—

The TV was on but muted — something about rugby. Oscar was lying on his stomach on the hotel bed in a pile of pillows, scrolling through his phone. Harper sat against the headboard in one of his hoodies, her knees pulled up to her chest, laptop open, trying not to cry over a piece of geometry homework.

She wasn't looking at her maths anymore.

She was looking at Twitter.

And Twitter was, as always, a shitshow.

Great drive but this kid's clearly distracted. Pregnant girlfriend in the paddock at 15? Insane.

Piastri could be a serious talent. Shame he's going to have a kid to think about soon.

Imagine choosing fatherhood over your chance to get into Formula 1. Bet he'll be gone in two years.

She swallowed. Her stomach felt hollow.

Oscar hadn't noticed yet. He was watching some replay clips. Laughing occasionally.

She didn't want to ruin it. But her hand was gripping her laptop so hard her knuckles had gone white.

"...Harp?"

She didn't answer. Just tilted the screen so he could see.

His expression changed in slow motion. First confused, then wary, then flat.

He sat up. Took the laptop. Scrolled. Frowned. Clicked on a few replies.

"...Wow," he said finally. "Bit harsh."

Harper laughed — but it was brittle, bitter. "They think you've ruined your life."

"They're all middle-ages arseholes."

"They think I've ruined your life." She said again.

Oscar shut the laptop.

"Alright. First of all," he said, voice tight but trying for calm, "no more Twitter for you. Second, you have not, and will not, ruin anything."

As if summoned, Mark knocked on the adjoining door, then walked in without waiting for a response. He had a protein bar in one hand and a face like thunder.

"Piastri," he said, tossing his phone on the bed. "You seen this?"

"Yeah," Oscar said. "We were just looking."

Mark ran a hand through his hair. "Some knobhead ex-club driver started a whole thread about you being 'a warning to others'. Like you're a fucking cautionary tale."

Harper blinked. "Jesus."

"I know," Mark snapped. "I did ten years in F1. You want scandal? That sport invented it. Teen pregnancy is far from the craziest thing this sport has seen."

Oscar shrugged. "They'll forget in a week."

"They won't," Mark said bluntly. "They'll keep watching. Keep waiting for you to mess it up. But you're not going to."

Harper stayed quiet. Her throat felt tight.

Mark glanced at her, then back at Oscar.

"You know what they hate more than a scandal?" he said. "A happy ending."

Oscar looked confused. Harper blinked.

"They want the downfall," Mark said. "They want tears, breakups, chaos. Give them stability? A kid who knows what matters and still wins races?" He smiled grimly. "Boring as hell. That's when they'll move on."

Oscar leaned back against Harper. "Should be easy enough."

"Damn right," Mark muttered. "Now. Shut the laptop. Eat something. And get some sleep. We've got a long drive back to Haileybury in the morning."

Harper smiled weakly. Oscar reached over and twined their fingers together.

—

The media room was too warm. That annoying kind of hotel conference room warmth — recirculated air and instant coffee and the stink of fresh lanyards. Oscar sat in a folding chair between two cheap potted plants, fingers locked under his thigh to stop himself fidgeting.

The interviewer's name was Cal. Maybe Calum. He had a half-rolled sleeve and expensive trainers and a voice that sounded like it practiced banter in a mirror.

Oscar already hated him.

"So!" Cal beamed. "Oscar Piastri. Big weekend. Huge season ahead for you. People are saying you're the next big thing in motorsport."

Oscar blinked. "Okay."

Cal laughed. "Modest, huh? That an Aussie thing? You're a bit of an enigma to people. Quiet on socials. Not much media before now. First proper post-karts season. And now—" He leaned forward. "You've got a baby on the way?"

Oscar's jaw twitched. "Yep."

"That's... big, man. Most lads your age are just getting their first girlfriends, and you're going to be a dad. How does that feel?"

Oscar stared at him for a beat too long.

"I dunno," he said finally. "Feels like what it is. A big deal. Exciting."

"Right. And is that affecting how you train? I mean, balancing a championship with—"

"No."

Cal's eyebrows lifted.

"Right, right," he said. "But I mean — come on, be honest. There's gotta be some pressure. You've got the fans, the sponsors, and now you're about to start your own family. That's not a normal situation for a fifteen-year-old. Does it ever feel like... too much?"

Oscar shrugged. "I don't really think about it like that."

"Do you feel like people judge you for it?"

Oscar gave a small, unpleasant smile. "They judge me for everything. Winning. Not winning. What I wear. How I speak."

There was a brief silence. Cal glanced down at his notes, then back up again, brightening.

"And Harper — your girlfriend — is she here with you today?"

Oscar blinked once. "No. She's got an exam today."

"Ah. Fair enough. Does she follow your racing, though? Come to most of your events?"

"Yeah," Oscar said shortly. "When she can. She enjoys it."

"Was she with you after your debut this weekend?"

Oscar's voice was flat now. "Don't think that's your business, mate."

Cal laughed again — nervous this time. "Fair, fair. Just trying to paint the picture, y'know? Let fans in. They love a story. You two are young, expecting a baby — kind of a motorsport fairytale."

Oscar shifted in his seat. "It's not a fairytale."

"Okay. What is it, then?"

Oscar looked him dead in the eye. "It's just our life," he said.

Cal nodded. "Right. Okay, moving on—"

Mark was waiting outside the interview room with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched.

Oscar walked straight past him. "Didn't say anything stupid," he muttered.

Mark raised a brow. "No, but you scared the life out of that guy. He looked like he was about to piss himself."

Oscar shrugged. "He was trying to get a headline out of me. Didn't want to let that happen."

Mark gave a short, approving nod. "Good lad."

⸻

It went live that night.

Harper sat cross-legged on Jane's bed, flicking through it with a familiar sinking feeling in her chest.

Prodigy Piastri — How The Karting Star Made It To F4 at Fifteen

He might be young, but he's not here for the headlines. In an exclusive with Race Circuit Magazine, the 15-year-old rising star gave his first ever interview since being promoted — and made it clear that while his driving's for the public, his private life stays off-track.

"It's not a fairytale," Piastri said when asked about his highly publicised relationship with girlfriend Harper Whiatt and their pregnancy. "It's just our life."

Harper exhaled. Somewhere between proud and rattled and hungry (always hungry).

Jane peeked over her shoulder. "He's a bit scary, isn't he? In interviews."

"Yeah," Harper said softly. "He just — he doesn't like the drama of it all. He just wants to drive fast and win races."

Jane snorted. "Well. He's definitely not a media darling."

"No," Harper murmured. "He's not. But he's mine."

—

The email came through just after prep. She hadn't even opened it straight away — just stared at the subject line, stomach knotting.

GCSE Maths Mock Results - Personal Performance Review Requested

She knew.

Didn't need to read the rest.

Now she was sitting at the end of Oscar's bed with her knees pulled up and her hands under her thighs like she was holding herself together. Her phone lay face-down on the blanket beside her. The others were filtering in slowly, already clocking the atmosphere.

"Harper?" Oscar asked, closing the door behind him, gently.

She didn't look up.

"Failed it," she said, voice flat. "The maths mock."

Sam paused halfway through opening a bag of Frazzles. Jane, already cross-legged on the rug, stopped fiddling with her pens. Matt and Alfie came to a sort of unspoken halt in the doorway like they'd stepped into bad weather.

Oscar moved to sit beside her, quiet. "By how much?"

"Twenty-three percent." She gave a hollow laugh. "Didn't even make it past halfway. Even with the extra time."

No one said anything.

She hated the silence. Hated what she imagined they were all thinking — that it had been obvious, that it was coming, that she wasn't cut out for this. For school. For exams. For any of it.

"I'm just —" She rubbed her eyes hard. "I'm trying. I'm really fucking trying."

Oscar didn't say anything. He just leaned in and rested his forehead against her shoulder.

"We know you are," he said quietly.

Jane dragged her bag over and pulled out a Tesco meal deal she'd been saving. Wordlessly handed Harper the chocolate bar.

"I don't want pity snacks," Harper muttered.

"Tough. It's not pity. It's a twirl."

Sam flopped onto his bed with a dramatic groan. "Do you seriously think any of us are going to actually pass that exam? I sat next to a guy who drew a dick on his calculator and still scored higher than me."

Alfie shrugged. "I once wrote the word 'MATHS' in block capitals and then panicked and cried into the desk for fifteen minutes. Still got a D."

Matt snorted. "I actually studied and still failed. So clearly, revision's a scam."

Harper huffed a little through her nose. "You're all idiots."

"Exactly," Jane said. "And we still believe in you more than we believe in ourselves, so."

Oscar nudged her leg. "We'll keep revising. There's still two months until the real thing."

She knew. Couldn't forget it, could she? Not when her due-date was two weeks after the last scheduled exam.

"I know," she said quietly.

For a moment, they just sat like that. Six teenagers in one too-small room, surrounded by piles of clothes and textbooks and that weird leftover smell of the chicken super noodles that Sam had brought back from the common room.

It was stuffy and crowded and stupidly warm from the broken radiator that now refused to ever stop emitting heat, but no one moved.

No one told her it was all going to be okay. No one made big promises. No one tried to fix it.

They just sat with her. Like a net beneath a tightrope.

Harper curled slightly into Oscar's side. Let herself breathe.

"Just a shit day," she murmured.

"Yeah," Sam said, mouth full of Frazzles. "We have those a lot. That's why we have each other."

—

Harper sat on the crinkly white paper lining the little bed, legs swinging nervously. The room was too bright. Oscar sat beside her in one of the plastic chairs, biting at the skin on his thumb.

"You alright?" She asked, glancing at him.

"I'm not the one about to get poked and prodded," he muttered.

She frowned at him. "Osc. You look more nervous than me."

"Not nervous. Just—" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Wish I could do something useful."

She snorted. "You brought me a Lucozade and remembered the stupid NHS letter."

Before he could reply, the door opened and the midwife breezed in — smiling, clipboard in hand, no-nonsense blonde bob.

"Hi, Harper. Hi, Oscar. Lovely to see you both again."

Oscar nodded awkwardly. Harper gave a small smile. "Hi, Rebecca."

"Alright then," Rebecca said, snapping on gloves. "We're just doing a very basic check-up today — nothing too scary. You're about twenty-three weeks, yeah?"

"Twenty-three and a half," Harper said, proud of how quickly it came out. "We had the anomaly scan — everything was good."

"Brilliant." Rebecca beamed. "Are you two finding out the sex, or keeping it a surprise?"

Oscar immediately busied himself with the bottle of hand sanitiser. Harper smirked. "We found out. It's a girl. Oscar told everyone."

Rebecca raised her eyebrows. "Ooh, exciting. Have you picked a name yet?"

"We're in committee with our friends," Harper said dryly. "It's not going well."

Oscar snorted. "Someone suggested 'Peach'."

Harper elbowed him.

"Alright," Rebecca laughed. "Well, let's have a little listen to baby's heartbeat today, yeah? Lie back for me."

Harper lay down carefully, tugging up her top and folding it beneath her chest. Her belly button had started to flatten out, which she hated. Oscar leaned forward, elbows on knees, eyes trained on her stomach.

Rebecca warmed the Doppler gel in her hands, then pressed the wand to Harper's skin.

Static. Then a swoosh. Then— there. A rapid, rhythmic gallop.

"I like this part," Oscar said. Quietly. "Hearing her."

Harper smiled without looking at him. "Me too."

Rebecca nodded. "Strong as anything. Around 145 bpm — that's a very happy, very wiggly baby."

Oscar was still smiling. "She's always moving."

"That's a very good sign," Rebecca said, wiping off the gel. "You two are doing just fine."

Harper tugged her shirt back down over the little swell of her belly, the cool jelly from the Doppler still tacky on her skin. She wiped her hand on a tissue and glanced at Oscar, who was perched rigidly on the chair next to the midwife's desk, like he was afraid to breathe wrong in case he broke something.

"She has a personality already," Harper said, half-laughing, half-incredulous.

Rebecca, the midwife, raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh yeah?"

Harper nodded, smoothing her hand down her stomach like she was trying to pat the baby through layers of uniform and nerves. "She's quiet in the mornings. Proper grumpy. But always awake at night. Fidgety. She kicks the second I lie down. And she loves watching Oscar race," Harper added, casting him a look. "Goes absolutely bonkers every time the engines start."

Oscar smiled faintly. "My girl."

"And she was obsessed with blackcurrant squash for two straight weeks," Harper continued. "But now she turns her nose up at it. Hates orange squash. Like... violently. I had some last week and she full-on elbowed my kidney."

Rebecca chuckled, tapping notes into the screen. "Sounds like she's already a bit of a drama queen."

Oscar grinned. "She's also a big fan of chocolate-flavoured anything — mousse, milkshake, pudding — but actual chocolate gives Harper brutal heartburn. So that's fun."

"I had a KitKat and had to lie down for an hour," Harper muttered. "It's really annoying, honestly."

Rebecca smiled warmly, clearly used to this particular kind of hormonal chaos. "She's certainly making herself known."

She clicked through a few tabs on the computer, then stood and crossed to the counter. "Alright, let's do a quick blood draw, Harper. Just to check your vitamin levels and keep an eye on blood pressure and iron. And we'll check your markers for pre-eclampsia."

Oscar immediately went still, eyes flicking up from Harper's belly to Rebecca.

"Wait — what's that?" he asked, voice a little too loud. "That sounds scary."

Harper gave him a look like please chill, but he ignored it, leaning forward in his chair.

Rebecca turned back with a gentle calm only midwives seemed to have. "It's a condition where blood pressure can spike during pregnancy. It can be serious, yes, but that's why we monitor for it so closely. Headaches, blurred vision, swelling — if anything feels off, you just tell us, okay?"

Harper nodded, but Oscar still looked vaguely stricken.

"She's fine," Harper said under her breath, nudging him. "We're just checking. It's just a check-up. That's what they do. Check things."

Oscar cleared his throat and nodded quickly, slumping back into the chair like someone had punched all the air out of his lungs. "Yeah. Right. Sorry."

Rebecca offered a reassuring smile. "You're being a really good, supportive partner, Oscar. It's good that you ask. And it's normal to worry."

That shut him up completely. His ears went red.

Harper tried not to giggle as Rebecca swabbed her arm and slid the needle in. Oscar looked like he wanted to throw himself between her and the needle but was too polite to actually move.

"It's just blood," Harper said.

"It's still your blood," Oscar muttered. "Which is, like... my second-favourite part of you."

She blinked. "What's your first-favourite part of me?"

He hesitated. Then, after a beat, said, "All the parts that grows small humans."

Rebecca laughed.

—

The engines were thunder.

Harper stood just behind the pit wall, oversized headset clamped over her ears, Mark Webber on one side of her and a row of engineers yelling data into radios on the other. The wind off the circuit was brutal — whipping her hair into her eyes, tugging at her coat. But she barely felt it.

Her heart was somewhere in her throat.

It was the final lap. Final corner. And Oscar was in second position.

She could see the shape of him — black-and-white race suit, helmet tucked low, the car twitching under pressure as he took the inside line — sharp, aggressive, clean.

And then he passed him.

"Oh my God," she sucked in a breath, gripping Mark's arm without thinking.

The car in front — the RedSpeed junior — went wide. Oscar ducked under, tyres screeching, engine screaming as he pulled into the lead like it belonged to him.

And then it was the straight.

The chequered flag waved and entire pit lane exploded — Mark swearing gleefully, the engineers howling into radios, one of the mechanics pounding his hands together.

Oscar had won.

He'd actually bloody won.

Harper was grinning like an idiot before she could even process it. Adrenaline and pride and disbelief hit her in a wave so huge she had to step back from the wall, laughing in that dazed, stunned way people only do when something brilliant happens and they have no idea how to react to it.

Mark turned to her, his voice muffled through both their headsets. "He just fucking did that."

"I know!" she shouted back, heart pounding.

"Christ, he's a machine. That move at the hairpin—" He clapped her shoulder like they were both drunk on the win. "Your bloke's got ice in his veins."

The camera crews were already swarming toward the parc fermé, where Oscar was climbing out of the car, helmet off, curls plastered to his forehead, blinking like he'd just woken up from a long nap. He barely cracked a smile — just nodded once to the engineers, quiet, controlled. He always did this. Too stunned to celebrate properly. It was just how he was.

But when he saw her, standing behind the barrier, he smiled.

Not a grin. Not the shy little twitch of his mouth he gave to the cameras.

A real one. Like everything in him relaxed for just a second.

And then Harper did the very uncool thing of waving. Mark snorted beside her.

Oscar didn't wave back — too many people, too many eyes — but he dipped his head a fraction. Just enough.

She understood what it meant.

He'd won. And she'd been there to see it.

Someone near the press pen muttered, loud in ppl enough for her to hear. "Isn't that the girl? The pregnant one?"

Another voice. "Can you believe it? Fifteen."

But then the cameras and the attention turned again, as Oscar climbed up onto the podium, head down, hands behind his back, cheeks flushed with cold and quiet pride.

He didn't look at the cameras. Didn't wave. Didn't even really smile.

But when the national anthem started — just before the champagne — he looked across the track, through the fence, right at her.

And she'd never forget that smile.

NEXT CHAPTER

[ankol-heap]

» in a room full of art, he'd rather look at you; itoshi rin x gn!reader

synopsis; itoshi rin is failing his art class. in order to graduate his senior year of high school, he needs to pass the class with at least a b grade. you're assigned to tutor the hot-headed soccer athlete—kind and eccentric, you throw rin's entire world off axis.

a/n; my first post on here! this is set after sae abandons rin, but he still goes to school. enter stage left, front and center—asshole, but very much in need of some love, itoshi rin!

word count: 5.0 k words | now playing every breath you take, by the police

itoshi rin didn't have any friends. it's a fact all his teachers know by now. he's a stoic student, one that doesn't participate in group projects and eats his lunch alone in the library. normally, this type of behavior exhibited by students should have been noticed by his teachers and counselors. but rin was seemingly well behaved, and he had straight a's in most of his classes—so nobody took notice of him. he felt like a ghost, drifting through the walls of his high school without a single person by his side. it was his first day of senior year, and itoshi rin had no expectations for this year.

the phantom ache in his chest is harder to ignore nowadays. he doesn't realize he's been spacing out again until the bell rings, signaling the start of the next class period. rin is snapped violently out of his daze. he glances at the blank canvas in front of him before realizing he's spent the past fifty five minutes doing absolutely nothing. the students around him file out of the room—chatting and laughing as he stands there, a bit dumbfounded with how this class seemed to suck the life out of him.

when itoshi rin was little, he loved drawing. his imagination would run wild, and sometimes—he couldn't always act out the magnificent battles he wanted his toys to perform. dragons and princes and volcanos—his medium of choice used to be these scratchy crayons his brother, sae, would get for rin from the corner store. rin remembers how his parents had to force him to put his crayons down just to make him eat dinner. and now, he can't even manage to put a single mark on a canvas.

during his teacher's instructions at the beginning of class, he was, quite vaguely told at that, to use whatever colors and styles he wanted to on a 12 by 12 canvas to reflect his soul. bitterly, rin thinks his canvas reflects him perfectly. he'll turn this in tomorrow, he decides. a blank canvas—no feelings, no purpose, nothing. just like him.

he'll take the shitty grade and move on with his life. rin wonders if there's even a language that exists to put his feelings into something other people can comprehend. he doesn't think there is. if he wants anyone to understand how he feels, they'll have to tear his ribs out one by one to reach the barely alive beat lying inside.

itoshi rin is seventeen years old when he falls in love.

"do you need some help cleaning up?"

rin glances away from his blank canvas, looking up to meet whomever it is speaking. the class is empty now. his art teacher is busying herself in the back of the classroom, unboxing a new pack of paintbrushes when rin swallows the lump in his throat.

"i'm fine,"

your smile is hesitant. understanding, almost, as you look at rin's canvas and the tubes of unopened acrylic paint surrounding him. the window panes hanging high towards the ceiling welcome in the rising sun outside, and rin can see the light shimmering in your eyes—glittering shards of gold gleam like morning stars in your irises as you wordlessly pick up the neglected paint and brushes on his desk—carrying them over to the back of the classroom and putting them away as rin watches silently.

slowly, he picks up his own canvas—and he stares at his classmates' drying ones with an almost envious kind of sadness as he places his untouched canvas beside theirs. where they had explosions of colors, reds and yellows and greens and blues blending and combining into the most wonderful art—rin didn't. he had nothing.

rin turns around to where he'd seen you last in the back of the classroom, before clearing his throat. he doesn't lift his gaze from the tiled floor beneath him, pressing his hand flat against the surface of a nearby table to steady himself before speaking up

"thanks..." he begins, but his voice trails off when he realizes you've already left.

—

rin was sitting in english class when he heard your voice again. to be completely honest, he had no idea you were in this class. rin didn't talk to anyone in all of his classes, so hearing the sound of your voice was a surprise. and where he sat in the back of the classroom, you sat towards the front. you're asking the teacher a question on last night's homework, and rin takes his chance to watch you freely.

you have a tote bag slung over your shoulder. there's a landscape painted on it, with little pins placed all over. you have your hair down today compared to the updo you wore yesterday. it's only when you turn towards your seat that rin finally makes eye contact with you.

time slows, and the conversation around rin drowns out as if he's ducked his head underwater. his brain is nothing but white static for that one second you look into his eyes.

actually, you didn't even hold his gaze for a full second, it was more like a fraction of one—but rin's heart rate didn't calm until the bell rang, and he was the first student out the door. he left class that day with clammy palms and pink-tinted cheeks.

rin didn't have art class today, but he was called down regardless during study hall. his art teacher was an old woman with a wrinkly smile who always wore colorful cardigans. rin enters the room, moving through the empty desks and chairs before he stops in front of her with a quiet greeting.

"rin! it's so nice of you to come so quickly, students aren't usually so courteous! please have a seat," she says warmly, and rin eyes the blank canvas—his blank canvas—laying beside her on the desk.

rin takes a seat, fading in and out of the conversation as she talks. he already knew what to expect, and of course, he was right. akamatsu sensei had the type of voice rin imagines story tellers have, or lullaby singers do. she tells him that she's having trouble seeing signs of progress in his art and wanted him to be doing better. but her last sentence is what catches rin off gaurd. this he did not predict.

"a tutor?"

akamatsu sensei nods her head slowly, folding her hands in her lap at rin's apprehensive expression. she watches his delicate brows pinch together in discomfort, soft lips pulled into a small frown filled with silent frustration. rin didn't understand why he had to get another person to tutor him—he thought art was subjective.

"i promise you, rin, i have just the perfect person in mind. they're my best student—i think if anyone can get your imagination flowing again, it's them."

—

akamatsu sensei introduces you and rin to each other the following morning—and rin's learns that your name is y/n. he repeats it in his head a few times, committing it to memory before you speak his name in the sweetest voice he'll ever have the pleasure of hearing.

"rin-san, i think we're going to get along well! we can sit together in class and work on assignments with each other, but we'll also have to meet after school. what days are you free?" you question, and rin's heart positively plummets to his feet when you grab his hand and lead him towards his seat—you occupy the usually empty chair beside him, and he follows your lead.

"that's fine. i'm free every friday, every other day of the week i have football practice."

rin's hands clutch his knees under his desk when you pull your hand out of his, a fruitless attempt to try and calm himself after you so casually held his hand. your fingers curved around his perfectly—and while the gesture might not have meant anything to you, it meant so much to rin. he doesn't hold hands, he can't even hold a conversation—but you're bubbly and bright in a way that has him submitting in one second flat.

"football? that sounds like fun! i'm sorry, i'm not very well versed with sports. do you like it?" you ask, organizing the paints in front of you as rin nods wordlessly, staring at the gentle manner in which you treat the art materials. you smile at his confirmation, grabbing a tube of a radiant midnight blue and placing a dollop of it on rin's blank canvas with a grin

"when we're in doubt, it's like our minds subconsciously pull away. they shut down and sorta refuse to do anything, right? i want to push you out of your comfort zone and give you a blue canvas to work with rather than a white one. we'll see what you do with that, okay?"

rin nods, fingers moving to take the paintbrush you hand him before he turns to the awaiting paint in front of him. his brushstrokes are slow and a little messy, but five minutes later—the canvas is entirely blue.

"what do you see?" you question softly as rin stares at his canvas. he stays silent for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, and then—

"i don't see anything."

rin's inner turmoil is a storm. was he supposed to be seeing something? all he sees is blue. there's nothing coming to his mind, no connection being made—his bites the inside of his cheek, angry at himself and his clear lack of creativity.

"that's okay. let's think together, okay? what do you think of when you think of the color blue? it can be the simplest thing of all, rin-san. anything at all," you assure, gently scooting your chair closer to his as he nods, clenching his jaw as he thinks. blue. blue. blue. what the hell is blue?

"the sky."

you're silent a for a few moments before he hears it. it's soft and muffled with the back of your hand, but you're laughing at him. his cheeks burn in an instant, and his lips transform into a scowl immediately

"whatever, i know it's stupid—"

"no, no! i was thinking the same thing, that's why i laughed! now, the sky is a painting all in its own! think about it—it's orange and pink during sunrise, like a fruity drink on the beach. it can be a misty, pale haze during snow storms. but, i want you to think of a time you saw the sky like this—an inky void, like a dark blue veil's been put over the world. can you do that?"

rin doesn't respond. he stares at the sea of blue in front of him—blue blue blue.

"...sometimes, football practice gets cut short on rainy days. the sky sorta looks like this blue on those days. dark. blurry—but it's still...i can see some stars. and the moon peaking out from behind the clouds, too. i guess this kind of looks like that."

rin's brows furrow together in concentration as he stares at the canvas after speaking. he turns away from it and towards you after another moment—and he's met with your gentle lips parted in awe. he blinks rapidly a few times to confirm the sight of your awe struck face in front of him is real, not something his imagination made up, before you break into a breathtaking smile.

"well then, let's get some black to add some darker shading to the sky! and some white—for the stars and moon...come on!"

—

itoshi rin is attentive. it's something you would come to learn soon enough. you're an avid artist—truly, it was your passion. rin can watch you scribble away in your sketchbook from where he sits in the back. english class is droning on, and for once, he's not paying attention.

you tilt your head over your notebook, staring at your drawing before you erase something and redraw it. rin watches the way your hair shifts and moves around you as you look at your sketchbook from different angles—perfecting your art. his lips twitch at the sight of your pout when the tip of your pencil breaks. you're restless, quickly sharpening it and continuing your drawing when the teacher's voice breaks him out of his daze.

"all right class, partner up! i'll let you chose your partners this time. please don't make me regret it," she sighs, and the excited chatter of the students quickly fills the once silent room.

rin straightens in his seat. he had absolutely no idea what the assignment was since he wasn't paying attention—but, right now, he didn't care. his eyes stayed glued on you, waiting to see who you would partner up with. rin has to crane his neck a bit as his classmates moved around and shifted seats—effectively blocking his view. once everyone settled down with their partners, rin was able to see you again.

and you're sitting by yourself.

rin doesn't know what urged him to walk towards you. he can hear his heart pounding—tugging him closer and closer towards where you sat. he swallows the lump in his throat, standing behind you silently before he taps your shoulder

you turn around, obviously not expecting him—because your eyes widen a bit when you see rin. and rin just...stares. he doesn't say anything, and it's like the two of you were sucked into a bubble, separating you from everyone else—you both stare at each other, blinking blankly and staying absolutely silent

"do you want to—"

"are you—"

rin wants to crawl into a hole and die. he shakes his head, pressing his lips into a firm line before speaking again. the flush of embarrassment in your cheeks was making him feel flustered.

"sorry. i was asking if you wanted to be partners with me," he speaks. rin places an awkward palm on the nape of his neck, silently questioning where he got the sudden boost of confidence to approach you from, because it had suddenly, and very inconveniently, vanished into thin air—leaving him defenseless. you smile warmly at him, quickly moving over and beckoning to the open seat beside yours.

"yes! i'd love to be partners," you say, quickly closing your sketchbook and putting it away as he nods gratefully, taking the seat beside you.

"thank you," rin says. and then, it's quiet again. the tension is as thick as butter, and you look around awkwardly before laughing, nervously.

"so...do you know what we're supposed to be doing, rin-san?"

this was the first time you saw rin smile. and laugh. well, not laugh, per say. but he snorts, and it's almost as if he was surprised by his own reaction as he shakes his head with a soft grin.

"not a clue."

the rest of class consisted of the two of you leaning towards each other with bowed heads, you soft giggles and rin's low voice filling the void between you two.

—

itoshi rin has a friend.

this is what friends are, he decides. people who smile at you when they see you, people who help you with your homework and expect nothing in return. slowly, but surely, fall turned into winter, and winter turned into spring. friendship is a blossoming thing, he thinks. because it felt like every day that passed, you and rin became closer. like a knot tightening further and further—he was growing closer and closer to you.

your guidance is what rin needs. direction and kindness—you helped rin navigate his own mind through art, a language he could use to spill his heart's deepest desires. every stroke of his brush came straight from the core of his soul.

charcoal was your current medium of choice this friday afternoon. every harsh fingertip pressed into rin's paper and ever gentle brush of his knuckles against the page has its own meaning—its own purpose. his tongue is poked out in concentration, and you watch rin work quietly as the quiet sound of akamatsu sensei's record player filled the silence. rin thinks of the way your delicate fingers transverse and move when you make art, and he mimics your movements—your gentle voice reassuring him.

"beautiful," you breathe breathlessly, tentative hands carefully taking the paper rin hands you as you stare at the art piece he'd just created. a battle field—it's set up like a football field, but instead of players, there were towering presences instead. swords and shields, a storm in the background, long blades of grass and a constellation of stars—rin's spark and love for art had been rekindled.

"thank you, y/n. i...i couldn't have done any of this without you. you're the only reason i'm not failing right now," he says softly, his voice almost sheepish as your eyes flit towards his—welling with pride.

"i wish i could frame this! it's beautiful...akamatsu sensei is going to be so proud of you, rin-san! this talent has always been with you. i just got the wheels rolling. you're very talented, i hope you understand." you smile softly, your eyes crinkling with the motion as rin's heart rate spikes at the sight

"rin," he whispers, and you blink in confusion before he clarifies himself

"call me just rin, please."

"oh! okay, rin," you smile, the familiar flush returning to your cheeks as rin smiles softly. if he moves even an inch closer to you, his knee will bump against yours under the table. rin is suddenly hyper aware of the space between you two. the music playing in the back ground fades to nothing, just like the world did, when rin stares at you. your eyes soften, and rin's positive his heart is going to burst right out of his chest and into your lap.

friends don't want to kiss their friends. the realization is chilling, and rin's eyes dart towards your lips for a split second—he couldn't stop himself, and the sight makes his breath hitch. soft, pink, plump—he wants to kiss you. rin really wants to kiss you.

the screeching sound of his chair against the floor shatters the serene moment of peace. you blink rapidly from the loud interruption as rin wordlessly picks his bag off the floor, slinging it over his shoulder in a single, fluid motion before exiting the classroom. you're left stunned and alone, your smile falling as he leaves without saying goodbye,

alone again.

—

rin is not familiar with love, you have to understand this.

in his eyes—love was a transaction. a give or take scenario, and if you can't give something useful—you get your heart trampled on. a certain brother taught rin that. he leaves school that day sullen and empty, his heart physically hurting in his chest as he walked home.

rin started ignoring you after that day. he didn't show up to your after school tutoring sessions on friday, he stopped turning towards you when your english teacher told the class to partner up—and your seat in art class beside him was now occupied by his backpack, a clear message telling you he didn't want you sitting near him.

you have to understand—rin didn't have anything to give. he'd taken your kindness, your love, your guidance—but what did he have to offer? he's not very gentle, and as graceful as his movements may be, he can't always control the bite in his tongue. and he's sensitive. his humor borderlines between dry and downright crude. and he's not used to having a friend, forget a lover—so, itoshi rin will ignore you. he will love you from afar, but he won't so much as glance in your direction anymore. because he cares too much, and rin thinks you deserve better. he doesn't thrive like you do, he destroys. and he's certainly not your mess to clean up.

"y/n,"

you glance away from rin's retreating figure. once again, he didn't bother to look at you all day or say goodbye—he simply left class. akamatsu sensei's voice pulls you away from rin as you quickly approach her desk, bowing your head in greeting.

"sensei," you greet with a weary smile as her gaze softens. she hands you a slip of paper, her voice gentle as she speaks

"rin has been leaving class far too quickly for me to catch up with! would you be a dear and give this to him for me, please? it's a permission slip he must sign for our upcoming field trip,"

the words otsuka museum of art were printed neatly at the top. you'd been looking forward to this trip for months—you vaguely remember mentioning your excitement for it to rin at some point when he still spoke to you.

the otsuka museum of art scaled five floors, three underground and two above—of the richest art history ever. there were reportedly over a thousand paintings—masterpieces ranging from ancient times to the present day from all over the world. it was your dream to have your own art in a museum like the otsuka museum one day.

"okay! that's not a problem at all for, akamatsu sensei," you reply softly, bidding her goodbye as she waves enthusiastically to you. you manage a meek wave, offering a small smile as you exit the classroom.

this was your chance to talk to rin. determined to find him before he left school for the day, you move swiftly through the crowded hallways—keeping a firm grip on your tote bag and the slip of paper between your fingertips as you push open the front doors of the school

and there he is. his strides are slow and long as he walks on the sidewalk about a dozen meters away from you. your feet hit the pavement as you quickly make your way towards him. he doesn't look up from his path to the school's football field—his hands remain shoved deep in his pockets and completely unaware of your approaching steps

"rin! rin, wait!"

rin pauses mid step, and you watch every muscle in his back tense the moment your voice reached his ears. he swallows the lump forming in his throat, closing his eyes for a moment before reluctantly turning around. his eyes are round in an almost childlike manner as you approach him.

you take a deep breath before grabbing his hand—and he's startled for a moment before you place the field trip slip in his hand. he blinks down at it in confusion, squinting at the small text before they widen a bit in realization

"akamatsu sensei couldn't give it to you earlier, so, uh, she asked me to," you quickly say, wringing your hands together nervously as rin stays silent, blinking at the paper in his hand.

"i...i'd be really happy if you came. of course, it's a voluntary thing but..."

even though rin won't look at you, resorting to burning a hole through the paper slip in his hands again, you continue with your words.

"rin, i don't know if i did something wrong to upset you, or if i said something you didn't like—but...i'm sorry."

rin's jaw clenches, and a frown digs its way onto his face as he stares at you. he shakes his head as if to say no, and just when he opens his mouth to say something—a loud voice comes barreling your way.

"itoshi! you're late! on the field, now!"

rin's coach's voice is booming and demanding of attention—and you're startled enough to flinch. rin exhales sharply through his nose, a vein threatening to pop on his forehead as he fights to keep himself from cursing out his coach, something he'd done many times before, in front of you.

"...we'll talk another time, all right?"

he doesn't seem to want to leave until he gets your confirmation, and you quickly nod

"i...okay."

he frowns at your hesitance, taking a half hearted step back, sparing you one last glance, before walking away. his shoulders are slumping just the slightest bit with defeat, and you don't have the strength to keep watching. you begin the walk home, thoughts scattered and heart hurt.

—

thankfully, rin did show up the day of the trip.

your breath hitched when you saw him board the bus—his dark, inky strands mused from the wind outside as he huffed, handing akamatsu sensei his field trip form before he turned towards the open seats. yes, there was one right beside you—but rin took the seat on the other side of the aisle.

doing this, he kept himself both near you and faraway—you heart sinks at the silent rejection. you spend the bus ride sketching in your notebook, trying your best to not look at rin.

—

you fell asleep on the two hour drive there. rin thinks you look a lot like an angel when you sleep. your face is composed entirely of peace. your sketchbook lays idly in your lap, and rin frowns when he notices it's slipping from your grasp.

he waits for the bus to approach a red light before slipping into the vacant spot beside you. he grabs your sketchbook, prepared to close it and put it safely away into your tote bag, when he sees what you were drawing

it was him.

—

everyone arrives to the museum after another fifteen minutes. and after going through security, your classmates and akamatsu sensei stand in the foyer—buzzing with excitement. you leave the group the second you're given the green light. everyone is given ninety minutes to explore the museum on their own before you all have to regroup and grab lunch. you slip away as quietly as you can, moving through the crowd of people in search of some much needed solitude.

you let out a breath of relief once you escape rin's presence. now, you can't see him at all—all you can see is the hundreds of art pieces and hallways waiting to be explored. they beckon you forward and call your name. your first step is hesitant as you remember how much you wanted to explore this beautiful building with rin just a month ago, but you take it anyway.

you move through the museum slowly, allowing your body to sink into the moment and absorb the entirely new world around you. the domed ceilings themselves have art painted on them, and you twirl and waltz through the halls, taking it all in.

your heartbeat calms. your nerves, fears, sadness—it fades to background noise as you take it all in.

unbeknownst to you, rin follows you the entire time.

his movements are precise and elegant. he can duck behind a nearby family or statue the moment he anticipates your gaze nearing his vicinity. he keeps a healthy distance, his eyes never leaving your form.

there's a soft smile on your face as you explore the museum. rin can't help but watch the way you excitedly chat to the security guards posted by the arts and explain each piece's history. he watches your animated gestures to the enormous structures as you explain the myths and stories behind them.

you're far too kind for this world. truthfully, rin thinks your heart is bigger than the entire museum—bigger than the entire world, really. you give, and you give, and you give—but you don't ask for anything in return. you're selfless—offering your sweet smiles to passerby’s and dorky art facts to anyone willing to hear.

rin would soon learn the love you offered was unconditional.

you're moving from exhibit to exhibit, before you finally enter an empty one. he stands by the entrance where your back is facing him. rin is nervous beyond belief—but he takes the step inside, anyway. you don't notice him at first, too busy staring at a painting the same height as you with a feverish type of awe.

he steps beside you, not meeting your gaze as he peers up at the painting. a man and a woman sit at a piano, playing together in harmony. they're in a ballroom of some sort, both dressed in formal wear. rin can tell they're in love with the way they look at each other.

"i'm sorry."

rin can feel you go rigid beside him—he can hear the silent hitch in your breath as you keep your gaze glued to the painting, your fingers tensing at your sides as rin looks away from the painting, turning towards you.

he takes a moment to admire you. your lips, your lashes, the slope of your nose and the curve of your neck—before speaking

"i'm not good with my feelings. i push people away before they get to close, but it was like you slipped through the gaps—i...thought i'd hurt you if i stayed. but i hurt you by leaving. i like you, y/n. i like you more than any person i've ever known—i-i think i love you,"

the words fall from his lips in a broken whisper, and he wants to reach out and play with your fingers—have something to fidget with as he awaits your response. he wasn't going to shy away from admitting his feelings anymore, that wasn't rin. the only reason he messed up with you the first time was because he's never been in love before. but, he was willing to learn everything about it with you—he didn't want to do it with anyone else.

his eyes are glazed with unshed tears, because not once, not ever—has itoshi rin so clearly expressed his heart to another person.

this moment would forever be engraved into his heart, brain, and soul—but the sight of your face when you finally look at him steals the air from his lungs.

your lip trembles in disbelief for a moment, tears of joy springing from your eyes as you laugh—the sound a melody all in its own to rin's ears as you smile with all your teeth.

his mouth slots over yours a moment later. soft and oh so sweet—itoshi rin's kiss was like pressing your mouth against the petal of a flower. his hands cradle your face, his breathing coming out uneven and quick—he kisses you hard, and you laugh into his mouth as your hands wrap around his neck. he tugs you infinitely closer, molding his form against yours.

"i love you too, itoshi rin..!"

rin's eyes crinkle with a rare show of genuine joy. his eyes don't leave yours as he watches your thumb gently caress his cheek. because in a room full of art—itoshi rin would rather look at you.

[miyaz6ki]

kinich aggressively kissing you to the point you cant breathe. I can js imagine him holding your head against his and groaning while kissing you and then liQBQQHQJQKADFJTB AAAHAHEBWBS KINICH BRAINROT IS REAL

LIKE HE'LL TAKE BREATHS EVERY ONCE IN AWHILE BUT HE WONT STOP AND HE'LL BE LIKE

"I love your lips s'much."

SCREAMAIJNHHSGAGSBDB

──── ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა kiss 'till we're naked !﹒⟢﹒

ᯓ★ ── . summ. wherein kinich can't stop looking at your lips, why not give him a taste?

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ director's note. new layout ++ cute request!! i'll write more tonight, for now enjoy kinich crumbszzz, day 1 of kinktober :3

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader

ᯓ★ ── . warnings. nsfw, making out/kissing, switch!kinich kind of (leaning more onto sub, I received the asks wherein they ask for sub!kinich soo), switch!reader, childhood best friends to lovers, riding (kinich receiving)

no one would've expected to see renowned hunter- kinich, pinning his long-time childhood crush friend to the couch. a hand to cup your cheek, this tasted better than victory.

a charged silence was shared between you both, you certainly did love your childhood best friend, platonically and romantically. he maintained eye contact with you, you were somewhat spread out in front of him.

"may i kiss you, pretty?" he pleaded, maintaining a stare that told you everything you needed to know. he wanted you so bad, he needed you. he gulped, getting closer to your face.

you could feel a rush of heat flush to your lips- by the time you realized, you had already closed your eyes as he leaned in. it felt like the world stopped for a moment, his warm breath could be felt over your nape.

but finally- their lips touch. a kiss wasn't just something you reciprocated with your mouth. no, to kinich; it was his whole body reacting to how you felt against his lips.

in no way shape or form was the first long passionate kiss you both shared perfect, but it was damn near close. he pulled away, a smile dancing across his face. he's still in shock, but that is not to say he didn't enjoy it.

his hand held your face carefully, inspecting it before going in for a shy peck on your lips. that was at first, but progressively he started to ask for more each time.

you both shared a small, quick, yet passionate kiss for a sudden moment. it was just like any other evening looking up through the roof of your shared home- the sky was just an ocean of stars. as they stared back into the scene before them. "..can i have one more?"

and something around five... six... seven kisses later, you already went this far, might as well continue from there. he slowly took his gloves off, running the pads of his rough palms across your body.

you could feel every grunt, and groan he let out against your lips. pulling away for a moment just to breathe, and get right back into it. . his warm touch making sure to explore as much as he could (and only the areas you were comfortable with)

kinich starts off by placing kisses down on your body- you couldn't help but giggle, a hand in his hair as he continued. "kin.. that tickles." he placed one more kiss, trailing back up from your stomach to your lips. "for the times you took care of me when I was sick back then."

another peck. "for the time you dragged me to your home so I could eat with you and your parents back when we were younger.."

"and.." one last soft peck he places, his lips aren't chapped anymore. the saliva made the texture of his mouth was a lot softer than before, at least that's what you noticed.

"for making me feel at home." -he continued. archons was he so in love with you.

you smirk as you decide to pull him in by his collar, a blush running up his neck, to his ears. heavily breathing after the bold move you just made. you couldn't help but hold his face closer. flipping your position over; positioning him under you.

you straddled yourself atop his hips, feeling him through your clothed cunt. the intoxicating sense of whatever kinich had in mind wasn't something you'd think he'd plan, but you won't complain of course.

aligning the head of his cock into your oh-so-sweet hole, he couldn't help but groan. "haah- s- s'good pretty.." you couldn't help but arch your own back, you already felt dizzy and it was 'just the tip'.

you started to sink down slowly onto his shaft. fuck it felt so good, his headwear over his eyes, he could feel the way your velvety walls clenched around the base of his dick.

his hands kneaded your waist, the more you whimpered, each time that he hit your center of pleasure. only getting more turned on how each time you roughly slapped yourself down onto him made such loud noises, it probably could echo out the window nearby.

plop plop plop! "ssshit baby, slow down, 'm not going anywhere.." his breath hitched for a moment as you rolled your heavenly hips against his.

"k- kiinnnn ahh fffuckk!" you shuddered from the way his cock hit your g-spot so well. " 'm also close, pretty, shiitt waitt.." feeling his length literally throb inside you.

kinich loved the way his cock split you wide open, your thighs trembling even with the first thrust when you sank down onto him. ohhh he felt himself getting even closer.

"mmf fffuck- keep talking to me, baby." the lusty tone in your voice made him even harder against your sweet little cunt. he wanted to hear everything- from how his cock made you feel better than any other guy has. they didn't deserve you anyway. to how it feels getting such lengthy girth inside you.

you suddenly gasp as your orgasm came almost as a surprise, kinich slamming you down harshly onto his hips, his head threw back, and your eyes rolled back. "ahhn- fffuck c- cumming-!"

kinich who felt his orgasm come faster as well, hearing the way you moaned out to him, telling him how he was so good for you, you creamed on his cock. he felt his load shoot up inside you. leaning closer to your chest.

"..can i kiss you?"

"again?"

"please?"

dunno about this, it seems pretty okay ish I didn't mean to make it smut at first tho LOL

[uravitypng]

cw: cheating! angst! some smut and degradation! (neito monoma x reader)

a drunken mistaken. a one time thing. that's all it was. that's all you tell yourself...

bf!katsuki who seems more and more distant of late, you understand that he's the number two hero but he misses all your date nights and your bed is always cold

bf!katsuki who after getting tied up at work accidentally left you hanging at a restaurant he booked months back so you end up leaving and walking down the road only a minute or so, until you stumble upon a bar and walk in, hopping on one of the stools and ordering a drink.

homewrecker!neito who recognising you straight away, dynamite's girlfriend for over four years, always hanging off his arm as his plus one

homewrecker!neito who's not going to let an opportunity like this past him by. he doesn't know what happened but you look dejected and you look so pretty in that outfit

homewrecker!neito who buys you your next drink and introduces himself. you thank him for paying. you know who he is- he is a pro after all. and it would be a lie to say your boyfriend doesn't talk about him occasionally, even after all these years you know there is still underlying bad blood between him and the class of 1a. you know that there's still some superiority complex there

homewrecker!neito who strokes your cheek while his thumb slowly and gently juts down your bottom lip as he calls you beautiful. at this point he doesn't know if you're still with bakugou but you look lonely and whenever his hand brushed against yours you became flustered

homewrecker!neito who asks if you want to come home with him after a couple more drinks and a couple more hours later. you mumble that you're dating katsuki. "that's not what i'm asking though am i darling?"

homewrecker!neito who fucks you the best than anyone ever has, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. the following day you'll blame it on the alcohol- until it happens again.

homewrecker!neito degrades you. his compliments of calling you "beautiful," are in between when he spoke with a mocking inflection, "you're such a whore huh? didn't know you were such a slut. i would never have guessed."

bf!katsuki who you know is faithful to you but you still knock on phantom thief's door, you feel neglected as you don't remember the last time your ever sat down to dinner with your boyfriend. he promised you that he would come to visit your family with you today- he didn't. you love him with all your heart but you seek solace in a man that makes your body tingle

homewrecker!neito who gloats when you come back for more after three months after. your voice wobbly as you beg him to fuck you. "seriously? you really are a slut. you just can't help yourself, you had to come crawling back to me. after a taste, you couldn't get me out of your mind?"

homewrecker!neito who talks to you meanly and condescendingly. while 'using' you for his own pleasure, that's what he says at least, "you're a warm wet hole for me to get off." he still makes you cum at least five times and fingers you until you see stars- getting off on giving you pleasure.

homewrecker!neito who grips you wrists in his hand above your head pining you down. you start coming up with things to tell katsuki when he sees the bruises of someone who isn't his bruises on your skin but you never had to tell those lies- he never saw them.

homewrecker!neito who tells you sweet nothings then he thinks you can't hear him, "you mean so much to me sweetheart." he didn't think he'd actually develop feelings for you, he didn't think he'd find the time but he thinks about your laugh before he goes to sleep and replays the the time you complimented his haircut in his head.

homewrecker!neito who fantasises about you leaving bakugou for him. it feeds his ego. he imagines stealing 'bakugou's girl'

he never was overly fond of bakugou, even a decade after, he couldn't help but hold some kind of resentment towards that class and after seeing your downturned expression and your lack of company his negative feelings towards the man increased

homewrecker!neito gets nervous when you don't reply to his message. he's not your boyfriend so he knows you don't have to you reply but you always reply. he's at work and a fan came up to him in a phantom thief hoodie, telling him all about how he's her favourite hero. after the interaction he messages you, teasing you saying that 'she's going to replace you.' you don't respond and it's been hours, you should have had your break at work by now and you never forget to not charge your phone. he reminds himself you're not obligated to reply.

that doesn't stop the nagging feeling in his head to check up on you, he just thinks it's odd. red alarm bells are ringing in his ear as knocks on your door, it's the first time he's done that, you're always at his. he knocks but no one answers, he twists the doorknob on the off-chance and it's open. he goes into hero mode at that moment, a cross between hero mode and pining secret fling. "is anyone here?" he moves into rooms, checking the perimeter, before finding a door ajar, you door. he cautiously opens it and see's you lying in bed, awake but looking disorientated. he kneels down next to the bed and presses the back of his hand to your forehead, and looking closely into your eyes. "darling are you feeling okay?"

homewrecker!neito who desperately tries to focus on the task at hand as you smile up at him and lean into his touch, trying to get him to hold you. "i'm good neito." you never call him that, you decided that's a line you wouldn't cross. hearing his name fall out of your mouth makes him smirk.

"that's seriously unconvincing darling." he checks your temperature with his hand again and thinks about where your shoes are, knowing he's going to need them. "you've got a fever."

"i couldn't go to work because i couldn't move properly and i told katsuki but he's busy. he's at a meeting."

homewrecker!neito scoffs. he doesn't doubt that dynamite has a meeting and he's not oblivious to the fact that bakugou as the number two hero has more matters to attend to than he does but that doesn't matter to him. you're ill with a fever so high it's concerning, you need someone to make sure you're alright

homewrecker!neito tells you he's going to take you to hospital, your temperature is too high and it's best to get checked out. he finds your shoes and helps you put them on. your limbs feel heavy but he holds you up, and keeps you steady. he doesn't leave your side the whole time. he sits next to you in the waiting room, telling you how amazing you are and how everything is fine

and even now he thinks you look gorgeous, and it kind of leaves him a little uncomfortable to think about that because you do look gorgeous but you also look like hell. anybody can spot from a mile away about how ill you are by taking one look at you and it still leaves him speechless. he doesn't think you'd look unattractive even if you tried.

homewrecker!neito knows that by tomorrow you'll likely be in your own bed with your own boyfriend making you breakfast apologising for his behaviour. but for now he'll show you he's the better option, taking care of you, treating you right, satisfying you, giving you attention. with every passing day it's getting harder for him to keep being the homewrecker, the guy that you're cheating with

homewrecker!neito sees your phone light up with a call from katsuki, he declines it.

fic version

[eobe]

(Narrative ALT text by @eclec-tech ✨)

✨ The Mysterious Holographer! 😎🤌🤌

Alpha-17 is a dangerous man! 👀 If his mission is taking the best holopics, he‘ll succeed 🫡 Nobody is safe, no excuses! 😳 He even got the latest awesome shit holopad from GAR goods!

The reason why he’s the man to succeed this challenging mission, because he’s most likely the only one of the GAR that is actually able to force convince superiors like the grumpy Marshal Commander Fox and growling Commander Wolffe into a Commander Squad group holopic despite them being gothic styled! 😎✨

The conspiracy around the Mysterious Holographer is revealing now and you‘ll find a little gift and the reason for this collab under the gallery of Alpha‘s so far holoshots! 👀

✨ Holoframed conspiracy artworks

A neat gallery scroll with links to the original post and artist’s tags 😎 Also featuring the shiny CT-9075 and Alpha-17 as narrators in the ALT-texts 📖

Tahny barking at Hunter 🧨 by @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf

"It was a Dark and Gothy Shiny Night" 🖤 A GAR Goth Night Story by @eclec-tech and the lost shiny holoshot – art collab by @wings-and-beskargam (the shiny) and @eobe (the background)

Archer the Mandalorian Sandalorian 👀 by @wings-and-beskargam

"Okay, barkeep. Listen up!" Tahny instructing the bartender to mix the Blue Ga'haiian drink🍹 by @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf – Check out that delicious receipe by the way 😽

Archer versus Captain Gregor – Flirtation Wars Round 👀✨ by @wings-and-beskargam

Jedi General Lupe of Lothal and ARC trooper Fives 💙 by @lonewolflupe

ARC trooper stealing a keg of booze 🥃 by @foxwithadarkside

Owl Squad entering the GAR Goth Night 🦉 by @eobe

Commanders' group holoshot 🫂 by @eobe

📸 ✨

Being the best of the best of the best (and having more fun than he would ever admit) means also that Alpha-17 uses the holopad like his weapons – fast and unerring! 🎯 He takes snapshots in the very moment when needed and will absolutely indulge the most fun and silly ones in the quiet of his office after the GAR Goth Night!

The following link leads to a shared Google file with a free-to-use transparent holopic frame artwork in DIN A4 size and neat printable quality (300 ppi), that I drew based on the design of the group holopic of Cody, Rex and the Domino Twins! 🤩🫶 I‘d love to be tagged, but no pressure – it’s a gift 💝

🔗 Holopicture frame overlay

Maybe some artist has a vision of what shenanigans Alpha might hunt with his holopad? 👀✨📸 You can use the transparent holopic-frame as an overlay to give your artwork a snapshot-, selfie- or group pic-like style – the "holopic"-finish! ✨📸 If you tag #mysterious holographer snapshot your holopic-artwork can be added together with your tag to another big post of Alpha's holopic-collection of the GAR Goth Night 😎 Unsubtle-unsubtle call to art action! 🤩

The reason for all of this 🥰

Marshal Commander Fox at the GAR Goth Night by @ghostymarni

The reason for this conspiracy is the person who started GAR Goth Night: Marni 👏🎉

She casually dropped this goth Commander Fox and didn't realise we'd go completely crazy over him and the concept of a goth-themed GAR event.

When more and more clones and OCs started to join in, none of us could have imagined how popular the night would get! We wanted to add some more mystery and gothspiracy to add some plot to the night, to show our appreciation to Marni, for her amazing ability to design and gothify anything Star Wars related! 🖤✨🌹⛓️🦇✨

Marni, thank you for hyping us up and getting this off the ground! 🤩 This wouldn't have been possible without you! This one's for you! 🫶

The Mysterious Holographer Conspiracy Culprits Credits ✨⭐️

Conspiring, plotting, arting, storywriting, texting and coordinating:

lonewolflupe

foxwithadarkside

wings-and-beskargam

crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf

eclec-tech

eobe

Multiple tagging in here, because when the list gets stolen, some of us are always missing – so here's a (so far?) complete GGN taglist 😂

GAR Goth Night friends and Chaos vode 🖤✨ @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @eobe @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @mamuzzy @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @leenathegreengirl @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @thecoffeelorian @bad4amficideas

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 3

Who didn't tell me the actual ship name was blueberrycake. What the flip guys.

Anyway, I saw this post and was like omg I need it. So I wrote it.

Part 3 if you will.

-> Part one

-> Part Two

☁ There was something be said about your resolve. Or your spite. Or your absolute lack of self-preservation.

☁ Cosmo wasn't sure which one it was yet. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Not yet anyway. For the sake of your newly budding relationship.

☁ It had been a slow process admittedly, between the four of you, talking and discussing the boundaries you all had and laying them out in the open, along with the expectations you all had for the relationship.

☁ You all were still getting used to each other, and honestly Cosmo wasn't sure if you all were 'official' or just...seeing each other? Glisten had told him there was a difference. He didn't think there was but apparently there was a huge difference between seeing each other, going out, dating and being official.

☁ It was startling to suddenly have to have the difference of all of these explained to him in what was supposed to be a five floor run for pops to restock. It turned into a five floor lecture with Poppy, Glisten and Scraps all explaining the differences to him from across the rooms they were in.

☁ A strange day indeed. He was mostly just glad the others weren't there. You were still recovering and Astro had taken to ensuring you were actually bed resting and not doing...whatever it is you do when you're not listening to common sense. Sprout is with Pebble, making sure the little rock dog is back on track with his healing so he can hopefully be part of a future run.

☁ Leaving Cosmo the unfortunate sole victim of the chat. Even Teagan got in on it, prodding his cheek with a finger and knowing grin, going on about he was quite the 'heartbreaker'. He didn't want to be that! He quite liked you all!

☁ Looking onwards, he wondered how that happened. At one point did he look at what was before him and go yeah thats the one. Because he had questions for his past self. Lots of questions.

☁ "How many is that?" He has to ask, leaning over to where Astro is watching silently, amusement written on the celestial's face. He lost count after #15.

☁ "This is thirty two." Astro hummed, using a star shard to catch a tower of empty pudding cups that had begun to fall. They were disposed of properly as you cracked open what was your thirty-third pudding cup, sticking your spoon into it eagerly. How this happened? Cosmo didn't know. He walked in at the seventh, and even then questioned what the hell you were thinking.

☁ Beside you, Gigi and Goob were cheering you on, bringing more pudding cups out of...Well, Cosmo wasn't even sure where. Just that now there were more. You didn't need more.

☁ "Does Sprout know?" Cosmo continued to ask, leaning to lay on Astro. He was warm and the fur of his blanket was soft. Cosmo probably could've fallen asleep there really if he wasn't too busy watching the crazy shitstorm in front of him.

☁ "Nope." Came the very answer Cosmo was expecting. Probably for the best if he thought about it. If Sprout knew he'd stop it. Himself and Astro both were more curious to see the outcome then they were to stop it. Was there a limit?

☁ You would find out.

☁ Hopefully before Sprout showed up, but that was neither here nor there.

☁ The pudding cup was stacked on top of your most recent pile and number thirty-four was opened.

☁ "We're going to have to deal with this later." Astro tacked on, laying his head on Cosmo's. Cosmo hummed in acknowledgement having accepted that at cup seventeen.

☁ He could only imagine what thirty four pudding cups (And counting) could do to your poor tummy. That was part of science though.

☁ "Whatever happens, we will use this against them for the rest of their life." The roll huffed, glancing to the doorway out of instinct. He could faintly hear Sprout talking with Vee, the most recent recovery, most likely about the latest gossip around Gardenview.

☁ Oh little did they know.

☁ Thirty-five was opened and primed as you slapped down number thirty four.

☁ "This has gotta be some kind of world record." Astro pipes up again, eye darting to where Cosmo had looked off too. "Ooh, Wardens here." He teased, making Cosmo grin.

☁ The thirty fifth pudding cup, no empty, was slammed down as your eyes darted to where they sat, wide and scared. "He's not-"

☁ Goob and Gigi seemed to take this as a challenge, pushing more cups into your hands. Gigi claimed she had a bet going she needed to win while Goob was probably just there for the thrill.

☁ The added challenge of speed seemed to turn up the pace, cutting through four more in the blink of an eye.

☁ Number fourty was in hand and on its way to being devoured when the shrill gasp they all had been waiting for cut in.

☁ "What in Dandy's name do you think you're doing?!"

☁ Cosmo had to laugh. He had to. This was too good. It was too much watching Sprout try to charge you as you just as quickly try to eat your fortieth pudding cup. Incredible. Truly.

☁ And better yet, you were never living it down.

☁ Even after the night of constant tummy aches and your whines as they took turns caring for you, it followed you in teasing reminders whenever you so much as looked at another thing of pudding.

☁ It wasn't until you all were focusing on the trying to get the newer toons back that the it dropped the first time.

☁ You were on standby as Pebble took over distracting for a round, sticking close enough that you could use your spare air horn should Pebble stumble at all. But since you also couldn't help yourself, you were leaning on Cosmo's back as he was doing a machine, poking and prodding at his face when he didn't immediately give you what you wanted.

☁ Which was attention. Which his was taken as he tried to not mess up his skill checks and get you both caught and make Pebble's life that much harder.

☁ Still you persisted until the light of his machine blinked green and he was finally able to turn to face you. You stumbled, landing on his chest as he caught you, raising a non-existent eyebrow at your antics. "Listen, pudding cup, you can have all the attention you want, but you gotta be patient."

☁ You opened you're mouth for a rebuttal before pausing, finger raised in the air as the words registered. He snickered at the face you were making, turning and moving on to the next machine.

☁ "What did you call me?" You asked, quickly running to match step with him while also keeping an eye on Pebble.

☁ "C'mon, you don't think eating 40 pudding cups is gonna earn you some kind of nickname?" He threw back, hiding behind a stack of boxes with you as you heard Pebble bark, alerting anyone in the area he was on his way.

☁ "Could've been 41 but, someone hates fun." You grunted, looking in the direction you last saw Sprout headed.

☁ Rolling his eyes, Cosmo shot you a look. "I hope you remember the stomach ache you had to endure."

☁ "Yeah. but I would've had it no matter what. I could've at least found out what the limit was." You pouted.

☁ "Uh huh and even if you had, that wouldn't change anything about the nickname. Would it, pudding?" He teased.

☁ The nickname didn't leave no matter how much you wanted it to.

☁ Every time he had the opportunity, Cosmo was using it. Dropping it as he passed behind you in the kitchen ("Watch behind, pudding cup!"), during runs ("Twisted to the right of ele, Puddin'."), even during your down time! ("Pudding, Astro's looking for you!")

☁ Which was fine, really, you didn't mind the nickname. Sprout still called you Bud more than your actual name. But that was where the affections from him stopped.

☁ He let you all hang all over him and accepted kisses to the cheek with stammered words, flustered in a way that was too adorable to be any actual deterrent.

☁ You were half convinced he didn't think he was allowed that privilege. Which was cute, in an odd sort of way.

☁ You were watching Cosmo as he iced some new cookies, leaning on the counter with the same look in your eye that he's sure started the pudding debacle.

☁ He paused, mid dollop on an icing petal before looking up at you. "Can I help you, pudding?"

☁ "You're hiding something."

☁"Am I?" Cosmo hummed, switching colors to a bright blue that was sure to stain your teeth. The way nature intended.

☁ "You are. I can sense it. It's like I have the force." You nod resolutely. "Or like boyfriend intuition." You paused, holding your hand to your chin. "How long does that take to develop? We haven't been together all that long but what if I developed it like the second we were together? Wouldn't that be cool? I wonder if it works on Astro. Sprout talks to much so I don't even need it for him-"

☁ "Are we...Together, I mean?" Cosmo suddenly cuts in, halting your rambling. Normally he loves listening to your little spiels, but the topic being brought up is enough to have him spilling. "Or are we just like dating- or maybe just seeing each other? I-"

☁ "Have you been talking with Glisten?" You suddenly ask, a soft smile on your features as you slide off your perch to walk around the counter. "Because he's given me the whole 'are you actually exclusive' talk before too."

☁ Cosmo pauses before huffing. "Yeah. Him, Poppy and Scraps. I just...I don't know if we put a label on it."

☁ "Oh you silly cream puff. You know you can just ask us this stuff, right?" You grin, wrapping your arms around his waist with a bright grin. "They think that just because their love lives are messy all of ours have to be messy too. I promise we're together, exclusive, partners. Whatever wording they used. I know the other two would agree too."

☁ Cosmo heaves a sigh of relief, leaning his forehead onto yours. "I was honestly scared of what you'd say."

☁ "Well, don't be." You snorted. "You're lucky it was me who started this conversation. Could you imagine Sprout's reaction?"

☁ "I try not too. "

☁ "You might've spent Astro tumbling with you." You laugh.

☁ "I wouldn't have let him, you know that, pudding." Cosmo chuckled before stilling, swallowing. "Can I-...Can I kiss you?"

☁ "I'd be mad if you didn't."

☁ With a laugh, Cosmo angles his head down, his lips meeting your own in a sweet kiss.

☁ When the other two find you, both of your mouths are stained purple as you share a plate of cookies between you.

☁ "I thought the cookie cutter didn't allow for you guys to put in the purple petal." Astro hums, taking a cookie for himself and scanning it. No purple petals to be seen, but he bites into it anyway, humming happily at the taste.

☁ "It doesn't." Sprout answers, looking at the cookies that were sans said petal. Their flower cutter only had five petals as opposed to Dandy's six, so they just omitted the purple petal when making Dandy cookies. Or they normally did.

☁ "There was some extra red icing." You answer, leaning onto Cosmo's shoulder. "I helped dispose of it."

☁ "You're lips are purple." Sprout deadpans.

☁ "There was also some extra blue." Cosmo flushes as he avoids looking at the other two.

☁ There's a moment of silence before Astro is laughing so hard at Sprout's face he chokes.

[xxsillysealxx]

Bill meeting long haired male reader at a con and flirts with him thinking he’s a woman at first? Maybe 👉👈

this is so funny and cute i immediately started writing

decided to use epilogue bill for this bc um. i need that ugly man

Bill x Male!Reader Oneshot

This had been a particularly shitty con. Bill had been to some disappointing conventions, but for the love of Zod, whoever was above must be punishing him for some crime he wasn't aware he'd committed.

First he'd been caught sneaking a couple of comics into his bag. Whatever, it wasn't his first time getting yelled at by a comic book vendor. There were plenty of other booths he could visit.

But then he'd lost a bidding war on a Yakface figure, complete with the collector's coin and everything. It was only one of the most sought after figures in Star Wars collector history, and it'd slipped right out of his fingertips. What a load of shit.

His hand flexed around the fabric strap of his bag. Every booth was either not worth his time or one he'd already visited. A full five hours here and what'd he have to show for it: a vintage The Flash comic, a couple 1990s Marvel Happy Meal toys, and a good deal of money down the drain that he'd spent on overpriced convention food. What a waste.

He was ready to leave and go stew in his anger in his mother's dimly-lit basement when something caught his eye. Actually, it was someone. His gaze landed on a girl, one he couldn't see the face of. Her hair was what had attracted him. Long, silky, shiny. He had a bit of a thing for pretty hair.

Her outfit was lacking, but still, Bill could only imagine the gorgeous figure hidden under the baggy t-shirt. He bit the inside of his cheek, debating whether approaching her was a good idea. He'd never had luck with women, for reasons that should've been obvious but that he couldn't identify through his own inflated ego. After getting rejected quite a few times in the past, he'd decided he would let the women come to him. He didn't want some bitch if she couldn't tell that he was a "high value man", in his words.

But what the hell, it'd been a bad day already, it wasn't like he'd be spoiling a good mood if he got turned down. Plus, it'd been a while since he'd made a move on a woman, maybe this would be different.

He approached her from behind, tapping her on the shoulder with a clearing of his throat. He tried to force a confident smile as he spoke, "Greetings.. I noticed you from across the room and I just couldn't ignore your-"

He paused as the figure turned to face him, looking utterly confused and nothing like Bill had pictured. She wasn't ugly, no, she just.. wasn't a she. There was no doubt that Bill was staring at - and flirting with - a man.

"Uh.. sorry, man. Not a chick," the stranger said, grinning awkwardly. He grabbed a strand of that long hair, fidgeting with it between his fingers. "Probably the hair that threw you off, huh? Don't worry, you aren't the first." He chuckled, trying to break some of the tension.

Bill didn't reply, jaw agape as he stared at the guy. He stared back, glancing between Bill's horrified expression and the other congoers, most likely wishing he was anywhere but in this situation. Most guys in the past would have apologized and walked away embarrassed by this point. Why was this one lingering?

It suddenly occurred to him that the brunette had never actually outwardly assumed he was female. A light blush formed on his cheeks at the idea that this.. admittedly scraggly looking man was fully aware he was a man, and had wanted his number anyways, and he'd gone and made it weird by assuming he was a confused straight man.

This, of course, wasn't the case; Bill had totally thought he was a woman. But it didn't stop the stranger from reaching into his pocket and fumbling around for a piece of paper and a pen. "Shit, there I go, assuming again.. I'm so sorry, I'm so used to dudes thinking I'm a girl-" he rambled apologetically, scribbling something down on a piece of paper and placing it in Bill's hands.

Bill glanced down at the writing, finally breaking his gaze away from the stranger. It was a phone number. Holy shit, this guy thought he was gay.

"That's my bad again," the long-haired man said with a nervous grin. "Um.. if you wanna give me a call, that'd be cool. I don't think I ever caught your name."

Bill had a lot of responses. He could explain that it was a mix-up and go about his day slightly more embarrassed than before, he could scream at the guy for even assuming he'd be some kind of faggot, he could run away and try to forget any of this happened. But instead, he mumbled out a response, "Uh.. Bill."

The long-haired stranger smiled at him. "Well, Bill, give me a call sometime, yeah?" And with that, he was off to rejoin his group of friends, leaving Bill speechless in the middle of the convention center.

He looked down at the slip of paper again. He should probably throw this away, he had no use for it...

He slipped it in his pocket shamefully, fists clenched at his sides as he walked out of the convention, away from the chattering voices, away from the rows of vendors, and away from the stranger and his mane of hair that was making Bill question if it was just long-haired women that he liked.

[aheathen-conceivably]

It was well past sunset by the time Josephine went to look for Gio. She was used to him staying out after dark; when they were in their cabin together it was constantly filled with tension, although the variety of which changed nearly every hour. She figured he did it for the same reasons she went out driving most afternoons, with some intention to either escape the next looming fight or to finally provoke it. But now, with the stars fully shining in an inky blue sky, she had begun to grow worried. 

Out on the porch she looked toward where his truck usually sat parked, unused and forgotten. She didn’t know what she had expected to see, but when she realized that it was there her heart skipped a beat like she had been afraid that it would have been gone. 

From inside the other house all the lights were dimmed except for a single lamp upstairs where Zelda was no doubt still reading. Jo’s gaze shifted rightward toward the corn field where somehow, she already knew that’s where he was.

A full moon above was conspiring with the stars to illuminate his face, although he seemed to be trying to hide it amidst the shadow of a hundred dead leaves. His hands and his legs were fully one with the red dirt below, like he had long ago stopped caring whether the coarse grains got into every fraying hole in his pants. It was hard for her to imagine what he could have been doing motionless and morose for so long, but then she felt the heavy weight of an aging quilt beneath her and saw a pile of dying flowers at her bedside; and then, she knew exactly what.

“I know it's all dead. You don’t have to remind me.”

She walked up to the haphazard hole in the fence, seemingly there more due to the fact that someone had run out of wood rather than to make the whole thing a proper enclosure. She stopped before walking past it, just as unnerved by the dead corn as she was by Gio’s posture on the ground. “I wasn’t. I came to ask you to come inside. Its freezing.”

He didn't seem to hear her request, or if he did, he simply didn’t care enough to answer it. “Zelda was here earlier. Found me a job. A Works Progress Job. Roadwork. Something. I don’t know.”

He picked up a handful of dirt which looked dry even in the bright moonlight. Good! For fuck’s sake stand up. You aren’t defeated. Stop acting like it. Stand up, have a drink, and move the fuck on. Instead she chose her words carefully, conscious of just how much he must have spiraled sitting out here alone for hours. Neither was it lost on her just how patient he had been when she had done the same. “I know it's not what you wanted but at least it pays, right? I - you know we have another payment and this won’t sell…”

Like sand in an hourglass the last grains of dirt fell from his clenched fist. “So that’s what you’re here for, is it? To kick me when I’m down? Skim another twenty five percent while you’re at it?”

She had brought up the topic dozens of times before, always aware that there was another deadline looming just over the horizon. But that hadn’t been her intention. Not this time. Not here. Something about the corn was making her uneasy. There was no breeze in the air, but the stalks still seemed to sway; or maybe it was just that she owned the majority of this dead ground now. 

“Oh for God's sake. Must we do this? I’ll pay it if I need to. You know I will. But then you will get the job and it will become something and it will all be better. Now can we please go inside?”

“Of course you will. What’s the cost this time?”

“Do we really have to do that now? Here? Gio, I’ll pay it the way I’ve always paid it. In return for half your share. I mean must we?”

“And then what happens after? Will you sell me back my shares? A loan, Jo. You said it was a loan.”

Something snapped inside of her and the sympathy that had been staying her hand melted away. “After? Do you seriously want to do this now? I only asked for the same thing you offered Antoine and you goddamn well know we would be fucked if I hadn’t. Every last one of us would be on the street without me and yet you want to run this race over and over again every time I bring it up. After!” 

A cruel laugh escaped her lips, like she was losing control of her perfectly pointed insults. “You don’t even know what after means! Some job. Fucking roadwork. At least I know where my next paycheck is coming from and I can promise you it's enough to pay for this shithole three times over no matter how many times this goddamn corn dies.”

Dry, red soil rained down around him as he slowly raised himself up off the ground. Surrounded by corn stalks standing beside him like sentinels, he looked her dead in the eyes, every last insult seemingly deflected from his dirt stained pants except for one. 

“Antoine's not my wife.”  

“I’m not your wife either, Gio.” 

A breeze must have come down from the far reaches of the mountains, because all around them the soft sound of dry leaves rang out. She knew that she had gone too far for seemingly no reason at all. That fight had been long settled, and she knew what he had meant. He’s not my partner. He’s not supposed to trust me and rely on me the way you are. The way I rely on you now, for everything.

The look of hurt in his eyes radiated across the field and she glanced down at the red dirt just past her feet. She had stayed on the other side of the fence almost subconsciously, not even realizing just how much she didn’t want to take even one step inside. But burying the unease in her chest, she walked into the rows, conscious that if she so much as brushed one of the dead leaves it would fall to the ground in noisy protest.

As she reached him, the pain written on his face twisted deep inside her stomach. She hadn’t wanted him to fail. Jesus Christ, especially not like this. She could still see him a decade before, lying in their bed half-clothed and wide eyed, rambling of his plans and his dreams that would never come to fruition. She was thankful that foresight hadn’t imagined this; and that that boy couldn’t see himself now, stained with defeat like the red dirt covering him from head to toe. For once in her life she wanted to break her back and scrub her fingers raw over the wash tub, cleaning every stain off of his clothes until they were fresh again.

“Listen I’ll go with you to the WPA office as soon as they need you to, alright? Before my next tour we can go together.”

The pacification in her words only seemed to partially thaw his anger, made deeper and colder by every dead stalk surrounding them. His placid silence was somehow just as unnerving as the corn, like they were linked somehow, and maybe the passion that her insults would have usually elicited had died with the leaves too.

She brought her hand to his cheek, and when she felt him lean into her touch, relief flooded her body. “You need sleep, okay? Let’s go inside. It will be better in the morning.” 

He nodded subtly, although his feet stayed locked in place. She ran her thumb back and forth along the line where his beard met the softness of his skin, watching as his eyes closed at the touch. She wanted bring her lips to his eyelids and both of her hands to his chin. Then she could cover the exhausted defeat on his face with her own skin, taking it from him little by little until he was himself again.

When he still didn’t move she ran her hand down the length of his arm, interlacing her fingers with his. “Come on. You can do this. I’m here with you. We'll do it together.”

Finally he lifted his leaden foot, both of them leaning onto the other’s shoulder as they left the dead corn behind them. But buried in a shallow grave between the rows was a question still hanging over their heads like an axe. Will you sell me back my shares, Jo?

Previous / Next

[alexsl-universe]

First Date

Summary: Trying to find a good guy to date you try tinder, after many failed attempts a guy catches your attention.

Warnings: None, pure fluff.

Paring: TFWS!Bucky x Reader

Word count: 3292

Prompt: B1 "First Date"

A/N: Hello, I'm trying to post more of my writings, i wrote this a long time ago but didn't had courage to post before, just want to say that English is not my first language and any mistakes are mine, also this is for the Bucky Boy Bingo 2025 event, i write some for this event and i will try to post some in here, hope you enjoy it :)

Tiger fotos, holding fishes, couple wanting a third, “If no one knows no one can ruin”, which means open relationship but only for him, so many profiles but no one grabs your attention, mans who only want sex, but you want a real relationship, sex is good but you want someone to hug when you got home,

You scroll some more profiles and think if someone is worth the stress, until someone gets your attention, James Barnes, handsome and none red flags apparently, is a huge step up, you have similar interests and don't live far from each other.

James Barnes

Hi, glad to find someone without that stupid tiger or similar photos lol.

James: If i want someone nice i should display what i have to offer right? Saw you like Lord of The Rings, like more the movies or the books?

Got points for not going to some cheese pickup line, liked that

I’ve grow watching the movies but read the books when i got older, liked both, but movies got a special place in my heart, you?

James: Glad to know you liked me

Books have a immersion in a different way, but I like the movies too

Any other hobbies besides reading?

Hope you liked me too 😉

I don't do much besides reading a lot, the type that people got worried with the amount books I have, I also like to cook but I'm not the best

And what else do you like?

James: I'm liking you 😉

I like to do sports, nothing specific, exercise helps me to get my head in place

Wow, I imagine you must be really ripped then

I don't do much besides riding a bike sometimes

So…

Wanna meet in person? I really liked you and want to know you better 

But just a date, I'm not a one night stand girl 

James: I would love to meet you in person

And don't worry I'm not a one night stand neither

When can we meet?

You so nice, others guys just stop answering when sex is not guaranteed, you are getting a lot of points with me

You free on the weekend?

Saturday evening?

James: Hope i got enough to make you smile

It's good to me, where do you want to meet?

Do you like cats?

There's a new cat cafe i would like to go

James: Great, I love cats, send me the details and I will meet you there 😘

🥰

You send him the address and chat a bit through the days. He is cute but a bit shy and above all he is not trying to make you accept to have sex with him.

When Saturday came you get ready with some casual clothes, dark t-shirt, red plaid blouse, some comfort jeans and black all-star, with another look at the mirror you check and everything looks good, but you still got some butterflies in your stomach, you still don't know if he is the same person or he is lying about everything.

Your thoughts got calmer when he sends you messages about being anxious to meet you and making you smile like a little girl with his messages.

You two arrive almost together, with just a few minutes apart.

“Hi James, how are you?” you say getting close and smiling at him

“Hi, you waited a lot? I got lost trying to get here” he said a bit shy but also smiling to you 

“No, just a little, I think not even five minutes” you said smiling to him

“Good” he say smiling to you “I bought you flowers” he says while handing you the small rose bouquet 

“That's so cute James, thank you so much, you are the cutest guy I've been on a date” you say looking at the flowers “But I don't think we can get in with those, but i will definitely put them on my backpack” you say smiling 

“That's okay, if you don't want you can leave here” he says a bit shy “Let's get in?”

“Sure!” you say happily, you always loved romantic gestures, but you are most sure that the last person who gave you flowers was your dad in some moment of your childhood 

As you two get inside the staff says that the flowers need to be on your backpack inside the lockers in the entrance, and also explains how everything works, you can eat your food first then you can get to the cats, or the other way around, but never bring food to the cat area, you both decides to eat first. 

“So, what a really nice and romantic guy like you is doing on tinder?” You ask sipping you hot cocoa on a mug that has cat whiskers draw on

“Let's just say I don't date anyone in a long time, so I took the tinder shortcut, hoping that I can get a date” he say drinking from a very similar mug but with coffee inside

“Oh sorry didn't mean to get you sad, I know how hard can it be” I say smiling trying to light up the mood “And if you may ask me, you're the best date I've ever had”

“Thank you” he says shyly sipping his coffee again “If you may ask me you're one of the kindest women that I've went on a date with” he smiles to me

“Thank you” you say feeling your cheeks get a bit hot. “Want to see the menu?” you say pointing at our side

“I… don't think I've had nothing like those foods, you can pick something for me if you want”

“No problem, but first I need to know you a bit more” you say resting your elbows on the table and holding your face with your hands “What you like in the food?”

“Simple, like jam, not much fancy desserts or lot of mixed flavors”

“Hmm, let me see what they got in the menu for you” you grabbing the plastic object and reading some of the plates “I think you will like ‘kitten bread’ is puff pastry in the shape of a cat's paw with some deli meats on top” you say showing him the picture of the menu

“Looks tasty, let's eat that” he say noding with his head 

“And ‘Meowve Jelly’ is a pave with jelly, each flavor came with a different cat expression” I point at it picture a bit lower on the menu

“They have one with plums, I love plums, I want one of these too” he says happily “What you going to get for you?”  

“I think the same bread but a ‘Lucky Cat’ cake, it looks like a cat sitting and is made of chocolate which is love” you show him the picture 

“It's really cute, just like you” he says smiling to you, and you get a bit flushed

“Let's order then” you say smiling and waving at the closest waiter to you two

You two order and chat while waiting for the food, he says about his experience in the army and you talk about your job, the time flies as more you know about each other.

When the food arrives you get excited because the food is even prettier in real life, with every detail carefully put in place 

“They are so pretty, you mind if I take a picture?” You say happily to James, or Bucky as he likes to be called “I won't show your face or anything just the food, don't worry”

“Sure, feel free to take the pictures” he says smiling to you

You take pictures of the beautiful food and one that has Bucky's arm and hand, you won't share that photo anywhere, you just wanted to have something to remember him and the best date you've ever had.

“Finished, hope they are good as they look” you said putting your phone down

“They're really cute, is a shame that we will ruined while we eat” he says grabbing the fork and looking confused at his bread “Also I have no clue how to cut this” he says laughing his nervosism out

“I think you can try like this” you show him were the kitten beans, that are the deli meats in a way that he can taste both the bread and the filling “But you can eat as you like”

“Your way is probably the best to taste all it deliciousness” he say putting the fork on the mouth and eating “It's really good, try for yourself doll” You get flushed by the nickname 

You do just like him and ate a piece of yours, and it's one of the most delicious things you ever eaten 

“It's really really good” You say smiling to him

“I like here, but with you the experience is ten times better, I really liked your smile” he says also smiling to you and you get a bit more flushed 

“Thank you, you also have a beautiful smile” you haven't met any guy like him before, someone that makes so much complements or was as sweet as he is “You're gonna get me spoiled treating me like a princess”

“My ma’ taught me to treat every woman well, especially when I'm liking her” he says smiling and giving you a wink, you try very hard to think who stupid loses him and also you thank that you can be with him, he is like prince charming.

“Thank her later, I'm loving being treat like a lady, especially by you” i say smiling at him “Fells like you got out of a romantic movie”

“You lucky that I'm very real” he says getting one of his hand to touch mine and tangle our fingers together 

“If you allow me to ask, how are you single? You are like the perfect example of boyfriend material and any lady who loses you is an idiot”

“Well, let's say being in the business that I'm in and having to be long times far from home makes hard to find someone who is willing to make it work, and generally pushes people away" he said sipping his coffee

"I get that, but if you're here it means that you're good at what you do so I shouldn't worry that much right?" You say after sipping your hot cocoa 

"You're seeing me in a good moment, there was far worse, I think I'm on lucky wave" he says smiling and finishing his plate

"That's good, you should enjoy it, relax a bit" I said putting my cup on the side and keep eating my plate

"I will, hopefully with you" he said smiling "And you? Why such a petty lady is doing single?" He said hiding his face with the mug to not show that he got a bit shy

"Well, nowadays people are more in just sex and no connection, I liked but I want to have someone waiting for me at home, talk about my day and theirs" you said pushing you cake closer to you "Being someone that want a relationship nowadays scares people" you say shrugging

"I'm not scared, I also do want something solid, I've already had my fair share of instability, with job problems, some close people getting in and out of my life, is... was tuff years" you can feel the sadness in his voice as he gets his desert close to him "Looks like we are in similar situations" he tries to hides his sadness thru a smile

"Different details but yeah, same situation" I smile to comfort him "No more sadness, let's get something sweet to makes this moment sweeter" he laughs at your joke, you think his laugh is very cute

"With you doll this moment already is very sweet, the dessert is just a bonus" he winks at you again and say the nickname that he don't know but makes you the happiest woman in the world, you smile back at him

"Agread, this is the best date I've ever had by far, and with a man that I thought only exists in my dreams" you smile and cut a piece of your cake with your fork and put in your mouth so you don't shame yourself

You appreciate the sweet chocolate taste, with the filling made of Belgium chocolate mousse and tiny chocolate granny imitating the cat fur, you smile even more from that divine taste. Bucky does the same with his dessert and enjoying it

"I think I'm gonna become a regular here, hope with you by my side to make everything sweater" he smiles and you choke with a piece of cake, is he trying to steal your heart? Cause he is doing a amazing job at it

"That would be amazing" you say after finally eating that cake piece and smiling at him

"There's a reason you want to come in here? You have or had a cat?" He asks while eating more 

"Had a fill during my life, but at the moment I don't, not sure if I want one so people may starting to call me the crazy cat and books lady" he laughs at my joke, that has a bit of truth, but you don't want to think about that now

"I was thinking to get one myself, my doc says will be good to me and make me feel less lonely"

"It's a good idea, but think a lot about it, is a big responsibility to take care of another life, mostly those who depends a lot on us, it can be tiring and exhaustive, but to me is worth it" you smile remembering of your last cats, they show love in different ways but still is love

"I think i need more of that, my house feels much lonely sometimes, having someone waiting for me there would be good" he says eating another piece 

"So much, having someone that loves us at home makes it fells way more like a home, maybe you find one in here" you say smiling 

"Maybe I can even find two" he says smiling, I really hope he can find a cat, but why did he said two? "I'm liking here, but mostly you" he smiles at me

"Me too" I smiled at him and blushing a bit "Did you finish eating? Want to see the cats?" 

"Sure, I would love to play with the cats, and your company makes will make it even better" you smile at him and get a bit more red

After you two finish eating your desserts the two of you go to the part that has the cats, finding a spot with not many people and sit and wait for a cat to approach.

Don't take much time and a white cat goes in Bucky direction, she smells him, goes around him and lay on his lap

"I think she likes you" you say while petting the cat

"You think so?" He asks shyly, and not knowing how to accept her love "You think she will let me pet her?"

"Probably, she is letting me pet her and laying on your lap" you say smiling at him "Let me help you, do like me, cats don't like much belly rubs and will let you know where they want" you say petting her chin 

Bucky starts slow with fear, but she starts to purr, loving his touch and moving all over his lap, then finally stopping with her belly up

"See, she likes you" I say petting another cat that got close to me 

"I don't think any other animal was that lovely with me, I fell that I already fell for her" he says while petting her head "Not just for her actually" he say looking at me with his cheeks a bit flushed 

"I can say the same James" you smile back to him

"Call me Bucky doll, we got more intimal so you can call me that" he say getting your hand close to yours "But I hope we can be more than friends"

I hesitate for a second before getting closer to him, feeling the warm for his hand thru the leather gloves and some sparkles, something that I haven't felt in a long time, I just give in to desire and lean in to kiss him, a romantic and passionate kiss, he caress my face with one of his hands, until you feel cat nails on my hand

"Ouch"  you say getting out of the kiss to see that you have a scratch on your hand "Hey I know him first don't be jealous" you say to the cat that doesn't even bother to look at you

"Did she hurt you?" Bucky says worried

"It's just a scratch, I'm fine" you say smiling "But I won't complain if you kiss to make it better"

He takes your hand and into his lips and presses a gentle kiss on your injury, and he keeps kissing until he reaches for your mouth again, but gets interrupted by a woman approaching you two.

"Excuse me" she say lowering to you level "My name is June and I'm one of the caretakers of the cats, I saw that Alfine really liked you two, she is more shy and doesn't interact much with the visitors, and i want to say that all of the cats in here are up for adoption" she says smiling "Also we don't allow this type of physical contact in here, but I'm happy for you guys" she say standing up and leaving us in silence

"I think I will adopt Alfine" Bucky says breaking the silence "You would help me to get everything for her?" He says looking at me

"I would love but maybe the process can be a little long and definitely with a lot of bureaucracy" I say holding his hand with mine "But we can get a part ready before she comes home"

You both smile at each other and go to the place where June is, she explains how everything is going to work and gives Bucky the papers to adopt Alfine.

To my surprise it takes less than an hour to adopt her, after the two of us go get the basic stuff for her in the closest pet shop to grab all of the essentials for her to live with him.

I’m with him companing him during all of the process, even helping to choose the color of her leach and some basic toys for her.

"I think her bed will be good next to yours, mine love to sleep with me but she can be different, beside you create a bigger bound even more with her" I say while putting the shopping bag on the couch 

"I know but... she looks likes the jealous type, and I want another cat in my bed" he say smirking

"If you ask nice she may agree" I say smiling and getting closer to him

You two start to chat more while getting everything ready for her confort, Alfine stays with both of you on the couch, demanding some attention from time to time but knowing when she needs to let you two alone.

When both of you sit on the couch and get a bit closer one thing leads to another and now he got his hands all over my body.

As he promised he wasn't a one night stand, even after we spend that night talking until both were craving more intimacy and decided that going into his room, which was the best idea, he doesn't want to be known as the naked neighbor, but I’m very sure after that all the neighbors know his name now.

A/N: Hope you enjoy it, pls tell me what you think

[kxsagi]

this might be a bit niche but 🙏🙏

can you do blue lock boys with a reader who went to music school and used to play the piano when they were younger, but then grew up and refused to play whenever someone asked because they didn't wanna embarass themselves and only rlly were in the music school cuz they were forced to

BUT THEN one random day the bllk guys (any is fine) catch them playing/learning how to play a new song and yea 🥀🥀

“𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐃(𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞)”

a/n: this was actually fun to write, thank you!!!

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, karasu tabito, chigiri hyoma

isagi yoichi

he finds the dusty keyboard in your room and is like. "wait. you play piano???" 

you’re already shaking your head and backing away like it’s a haunted object. “nope. not anymore. don’t even ask.” 

but he’s persistent in the nicest way like: "come onnn, i bet you’re amazing. imagine if you played the blue lock theme on piano– actually no, wait, imagine if you played a love song. like, a romantic one. for me. like, by accident." 

you're like, "do you ever stop talking?" 

he finds you playing one day when he comes home early – your back to the door, eyes focused, tongue poking out in concentration. it’s a soft piece, unfamiliar to him, but he’s mesmerized. 

you jump when you see him standing there like a lovesick puppy. “yoichi, what the hell– why didn’t you say anything?!” 

he just grins. “you looked too pretty. like, i couldn’t interrupt the main character moment.” 

proceeds to sit beside you and smash random keys. 

“teach me how to play twinkle twinkle little star, i want to serenade you at our wedding.” 

itoshi rin

“you went to music school?” 

his face when you admit it is unreadable. and you panic. 

“don’t ask me to play,” you snap. “i sucked and i hated it.” 

but he becomes quietly obsessed with the idea. not in a romantic way, he says. just curious (lies). 

catches you at the piano in a practice room one day, thinking you were alone, quietly practicing some melancholic piece that sounds like heartbreak bottled into notes. 

he just… stands there 

you turn around, startled, and he’s like: “… that was beautiful.” 

“rin, i literally messed up five times.” 

“you still made me feel something.” 

he now uses the excuse “can you help me relax before matches” to get you to play. 

acts unaffected, arms crossed, but turns his head to hide the way he stares at your hands. 

swears he’s not writing poetry about you later. swears. 

itoshi sae

“you play piano?” “no.” “you went to music school.” “i didn’t play in it.” 

he doesn’t believe you. not one bit. 

so one night, he hears it – soft chords floating through the hallway of your apartment, a melody you’re slowly piecing together. 

he walks in, leans against the doorframe and watches you without a word. 

you stop mid-note. “… what.” 

“why don’t you play more often?” 

“cuz i suck.” 

he chuckles. walks over. tugs you by the waist and sits you on his lap, facing the keys. 

“play something for me. even if it sucks.” 

and you do, half-mortified, but his arms are around you and he hums along even though he doesn’t know the song. 

you’re like "sae please stop making this romantic i will die.” 

and he says, completely deadpan, “that’s the point.” 

michael kaiser

he absolutely reads your old recital bio online like it’s forensic evidence. 

“you were a prodigy. your title was literally ‘tiny piano tornado.’” 

“please delete yourself.” 

doesn’t push you to play. instead, just casually hums classical music in your presence like a manipulative cartoon villain. 

you end up fiddling with the keys again one day, headphones on, secretly trying to relearn a piece you used to hate. 

he catches you mid-practice – headphones still in, mouthing the notes to yourself. 

he just sits on the floor and watches. absolutely smitten. 

you scream when you finally notice him. “you’re gonna give me a heart attack!” 

he smirks. “you already did. fell for you just now.” 

calls you mozart girlie forever. 

says he’s “too emotionally moved” to do anything after hearing you play, even if you were just practicing scales. 

nagi seishiro

you once mentioned music school and he just blinked at you. “so like. high school musical?” 

“… no.” 

he forgets until one rainy afternoon when he walks in and sees you hunched over a keyboard, playing a lullaby. 

he just plops down beside you and goes, “that sounds sad. is that song about heartbreak or taxes?” 

you give him the side-eye. “it’s about a bird.” 

sits silently for a moment. 

“… still kinda sounds like taxes.” 

but when he hears the emotion in your playing – how your hands hesitate, how you frown in concentration – he goes quiet. 

“you’re really good, y’know.” 

you blush. “it’s not a big deal.” 

“it is to me.” 

suddenly he’s wide awake for the next three hours just thinking about you and that damn piano. 

mikage reo

the moment he finds out you went to music school, he’s dragging you to a baby grand piano in his mansion. 

“reo, i haven’t played in years–” 

“great! makes the comeback even more dramatic!” 

you try and fail to escape. 

until one day he walks in on you in his music room, hunched over the keys with a stubborn look on your face. 

"i knew you'd cave," he grins. 

you glare at him. 

but then you play. and stumble. and restart. and mess up again. but you keep playing. 

he sits beside you, absolutely glowing. “you’re so cute when you’re concentrated. i could marry you right now.” 

gives you obnoxious applause every time you finish a piece, even if it’s a disaster. 

records you secretly and makes it his ringtone. 

when you get mad, he says “it’s because i want to hear you all the time.”  

karasu tabito

he definitely clowns you for going to music school at first. “what’d they teach you? dramatic hand flourishes and emotional trauma?” 

but the moment he catches you actually playing something – slightly off-key, frowning at your own tempo – he shuts up completely. 

like, he genuinely forgets to breathe. 

says nothing, just stands there slack-jawed like he’s watching a studio ghibli moment unfold. 

when you finally notice him, he blurts: “you looked hot. sorry. i mean good. i mean talented.” 

trips over his words worse than you tripped over that chord change. 

later: “i take back every joke. you’re a goddess. the piano is lucky to be touched by you.” 

chigiri hyoma

finds out about your music school past and goes “you must’ve looked so elegant.” 

you: “i looked like a tired gremlin who was forced to play mozart at 7 AM.” 

catches you playing on a random day, lit by soft sunlight, playing a song with more emotion than skill, but it hits. 

he watches, entranced, then quietly asks: “do you still hate it?” 

you shrug. “less now. i kinda missed it.” 

he smiles. “i missed it, too. and i didn’t even know it.” 

asks you to teach him a duet. 

you agree, and you two end up messing it up hilariously, laughing more than playing. 

the next week, he buys you a new sheet music book and says, “i wanna fall in love with every version of you, even the ones you tried to leave behind.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[babyleostuff]

౨ৎ voicemails lee chan leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: baby, sweetie)

...one: hi baby, so we just landed. i can't wait to get to the hotel, i'm exhausted. hope you're sleeping well too, i'll call you in the morning. love you

…two: huh, i think i forgot how it feels to sleep without you. i couldn’t fall asleep yesterday, at all. did you, um, did you sleep well? or is it me just overreacting maybe

...three: why did you turn off your location, baby? you're acting suspicious again, and i'm scared. don’t think for a second i forgot about that last prank you pulled

...four: what are you up to today? any plans? make sure to eat before you go out, and text me when you have some time

...five: hi, so this is seungcheol. shut up dino, or i won’t give you the phone back. your boyfriend got a bit, eee, drunk, and he wanted to call you to tell you something. someone hold him back or else. the point is, he was too drunk to dial himself so i had to do it for him. dino come here, and say what you want to say. I LOVE YOUUUU

...six: shit, i was so drunk yesterday. i hope i didn’t say anything embarrassing. i’m sure the boys would stop me if i was about to make a fool out of myself, though (pause) yeah, they definitely wouldn’t stop me

...seven: i checked the weather back home, and it’s so cold. make sure to wear my coat that i left you sweetie, it’s the one that you like so much. if you need any hoodies or sweatshirts you can always borrow mine

...eight: saranghae nunbit

...nine: i never would've imagined a game of monopoly could be that intense

...ten: i miss you a lot, you know? i didn't want to tell you earlier, so you wouldn't think i'm clingy, but i really do miss you. do you think we can talk over face time? i don't want to fall asleep alone tonight

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom

[aventurineswife]

Got a simple one for SAHSRAU

How would everyone react when they see the Creator have access to a omnipotent mech that can Get bigger with it practically dwarfing Universes + Their own Universe

(Inspiration from Gurren Lagann and Imma just it's absolute PEAK 🖐️😐🤚)

(also I wished I was joking about the mech dwarfing Universes but...

Holy shit I didn't know it can Grow that size..)

Okay first of all—bless you for invoking Gurren Lagann-level nonsense because YES. Absolutely yes. Giant mechs that casually dwarf galaxies and then go “we’re not done yet”? That’s the kind of divine, dimension-breaking energy the Creator absolutely should have in SAHSRAU. I support this.

That said, I only know the basics about Gurren Lagann (big mech, bigger drill, and bigger vibes), so apologies if I miss any deep lore nuances—Trailblazer (especially Caelus)

“Oh my stars... THEY’RE PILOTING THAT?!”

He’s either jaw-dropped in awe or immediately asking for a co-pilot seat. He sees the mech grow larger than galaxies and just goes, “...Can we park that somewhere?”

If you say it’s powered by "willpower" or some kind of emotional resonance, he absolutely starts hyping you up like a mech-hype-squad member:

“YOU’VE GOT THIS, CREATOR! BELIEVE IN THE ME THAT BELIEVES IN YOU THAT BELIEVES IN THE ME THAT BELIEVES—”

Welt

He stares silently for five minutes, sipping coffee, mentally recalculating every known law of reality and realizing none of it matters anymore. He ends with a soft:

“Well. That’s... deeply concerning.”

But also deeply impressed.

Dan Heng

Absolutely calm on the outside, screaming internally.

“Makes sense. They are the Creator.”

(He will not admit he’s impressed. But he is. He really is.)

Kafka

“Oh~ now that’s power.”

Totally unfazed. Probably flirting with you through the mech’s comms:

“So... is that thing single? Or do I need to talk to its pilot?”

10/10 wants to see what happens if she programs a dreamscape inside the cockpit.

Jing Yuan

Stares at the screen, sets down his tea, and says with grave sincerity:

“If the Creator ever turns against us, we are absolutely doomed.”

Then he asks politely if he can join the next battle, “just to see what it's like to be protected by something that can casually swat a planet like a fly.”

Phainon

He watches the mech grow beyond universes and just mutters:

“...I’m the crowned heir to an empire. And now I feel like a sock puppet.”

But secretly? He’s losing his mind at the spectacle. He definitely insists on training alongside it for “research purposes.”

Also: “What do you feed that thing?!”

Silver Wolf

She’s trying to mod it into HSR's code like her life depends on it.

“This shouldn’t exist. But it does. And now I need to play as it.”

Herta

Yells “GIVE ME THE BLUEPRINTS RIGHT NOW”

Wants to dissect the mech atom by atom. Is completely losing her mind over the idea that it can grow infinitely.

“WHERE IS THE SOURCE CODE?!”

Imagine a divine emergency broadcast—people across the universe staring at the skies as something impossibly massive blinks into view, eclipsing entire star systems. All the Aeons stop what they’re doing. Elio’s plan spontaneously rewrites itself. Screwllum drops his wrench. The IPC faints.

And you, the Creator, sitting inside your infinite-tier, dimension-dwarfing, physics-ignoring, galaxy-obliterating mech, holding a cup of hot chocolate and asking:

"Should I add rockets or wings next?"

[possesseddesiress]

Switch Up: Miles' Ambition

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Switch Up: Miles' Ambition (English Version)

Part One: First Level

Part Two: Logan's Revenge

Part Three: Ethan's Relief

Part Four: Miles' Ambition

Part Five: Conclusions

I thought about asking Ethan and Logan for help. After all they were my best friends, but they both seemed so unfocused on flexing their new muscles or almost sniffing each other, they looked like children.

I didn't mind raising suspicions, more than one person had seen us in the library, some curious, some even judging. but what would they do? They had no way of checking that there was anything wrong with “Caleb” and ‘Ruben’, much less in “Alan's” new behavior.

Alan's body was certainly a good acquisition: handsome, attractive, muscular, rich, even his scent was... A delight.

However, he was a far cry from my “final destination”, the only reason I had started doing the check-up: Blake Jones.

The best athlete in all of high school: He had been captain of the swimming, soccer, Greco-Roman wrestling and basketball teams. And he could have been captain of more teams if he wanted to, he was such a freak at sports, I didn't even know where he found the time to practice and represent the school in every discipline, but there he was, being the star.

I wanted that.

You might think that being an athlete, his average would be low, lots of muscles but little brains, right?

On the contrary, Blake seemed to have everything in the palm of his hand: fame, body, brains and money.

The perfect springboard to reach the pinnacle of success. I had always been made to feel lesser because of my appearance: lots of pimples, a spinal problem, glasses and to make matters worse, I also had braces.

To others I was just another nerd with a hissing problem and a computer geek. But I was more than that, and the control was the perfect test of my abilities.

Blake's body was the ideal opportunity to bring out my intellect, such a hot body accompanied by a brilliant mind? Success was assured.

Thousands of inventions created by me - Steve Jobs and Einstein would be dwarfed by me! The control could go on the market long after, perhaps, sell for a huge amount of money and ensure a way that no one could take my new body away from me and everything would be perfect.

But there was no use fantasizing without my lottery ticket.

I made my way to the sports area of the school, right where the pool was, the soccer field or the soccer field, even the gymnasium. There was no way I couldn't find Blake.

A few guys waved at me, which caught me off guard until I remembered what skin I was in. It felt good to be noticed, if a body like Alan's was flashy, I couldn't imagine what I'd get with my favorite stud.

I arrived at the gym, empty. For a second I thought I had failed, when I heard soft breathing, I turned to look a little closer, searching for the source. Until I saw Blake sitting on the steps, agitated and wearing his compression shirt, he watched me for a second, raising his palm.

- Hey - he sighed with a smile.

It was as if my brain stopped working, there was an awkward silence until finally something escaped my lips.

- Hi

That made him raise his eyebrow.

- Why so serious, Alan? - he leaned over to get a drink of water - Your essays not going well?

- Nah, bro - Fuck, didn't that sound too forced? - Teacher Rivera sprained her foot or something, they suspended rehearsals.

- Too bad - He nodded slightly. Another silence - Are you sure you're okay, dude? You're feeling quieter than usual. Also... Ugh. What's that smell? - He motioned, starting to sniff around him.

Holy shit, holy shit.

He walked over to me, sniffing.

- Dude... - he sighed in denial, looked up. And what followed next took me by surprise - Since before? Today you woke up bold

He murmured to grab me by the back of the neck and pull me close to him for a kiss. It was intense, but what was going on!

- Wait... - I mumbled pulling away.

- Too exposed? You're right, I jumped the gun. I'm sorry, but you just, you smell too good, dude - he smiled only to almost throw himself at me again.

Blake was gay? Alan was gay? The two of them were... together? Fuck, I'm supposed to be smart, how could I not notice?

They hardly ever speak to each other in public, they don't even belong to the same social circle and share few classes. But... Blake always goes to the theater performances, and Alan goes to all the games.

He kissed me on my neck with intensity, caressing my waist, slightly lifting my shirt to sink his fingers into my skin. I let out a sigh, it was like my brain was fried, I couldn't think anything!

I wanted more of him. I knew what my goal was, but what was the likelihood of getting this on my body? Never. And after I get Blake's body? Impossible.

I kissed his lips intensely, then moved to his armpit to sink my face into it, smelling like crazy.

- Woah, easy, looks like someone's excited!

He giggled with that charismatic smile, loaded with desire. I continued to lick and smell his armpits, filling my face with his sweat, his scent.

He grabbed me with some force from my buttocks, massaging them obscenely. I closed my eyes, panting and lost in the sensation, that I didn't even realize when he pulled out his grip.

- What is this? - he asked curiously, weighing the box. I was about to take it from him, but that would be suspicious, what would someone like Alan do with something like that? I mean... it looked like a control and already at first sight, but to bring it with you?

- I found it - I mumbled - It was lying in one of the aisles

- And why did you take it? - more than confused, he seemed curious, with a chuckle at the end of his question.

- I found it conspicuous

He nodded

- It is - He ran his fingers over the buttons, fiddling with it, he didn't even notice when he pressed the yellow button, just when he had it turned towards him - Will it work with batteries or something? - He turned it over again.

And suddenly I was holding the controller in his hands. I couldn't help but smile.

It was a strange thing, when I went from my body to Alan's, it certainly felt different, he was taller, had a slender body, but now. Damn... I felt strong from head to toe, his calves, his arms, his pecs felt like melons and his abs felt like steel! I felt so... Powerful.

I looked up, meeting the gaze of the body I'd been in just moments before.

- What the fuck? - he shouted. He looked down at himself, touching himself in panic.

I had never been good at acting. Science and math were my best weapons, acting? I could barely pass in theater. But I had to do it, at least if I wanted to fit the nails in this time.

- Blake? - I said in a frightened tone. I had to make every effort not to start groping myself like a madman.

The new Alan looked at himself in amazement, he stood in front of a mirror. He didn't say anything, he was just puzzled. And when I least expected it, he smiled. - Not bad... - he murmured caressing her arms, the frame of her waist and even taking her buttocks to shake them - Yes you do have a big butt! - he teased giving her a few slaps as he laughed.

I thought he would be more scared or even reluctant, but he seemed excited exploring his body. It took him almost no time at all to slip his hand inside his pants.

- You're not bad yourself - I murmured to start touching my new ample chest, it was so satisfying to feel those fat bulges. I was no longer puny, now I had muscles all over me! - And just smell this... - I said raising my arm, enjoying all the stinky stench that was now emanating.

Strong, musky and pungent. It smelled like a real man, an alpha male.... “Alan” kept touching himself with care, even taking out his phone to take a couple of pictures of himself showing off his arms.

- Oh yeah? - he raised his eyebrow as he started to move towards me, slowly.

- Yes... Alan.

He stood still for a second, but then smiled.

- You should let me try it, Blake.

And it was like touching heaven. Tasting all my fantasies, the future in the palm of my hand.

- Go ahead.

I lifted my shirt to give him direct access to the body that seemed to devour him with my gaze, plus his pants left nothing to the imagination.

A prominent silhouette was forming, and I didn't even feel that “excited” yet. I felt the weight of his attributes, heavy as a bull.

He knelt down to start licking my abdomen in its entirety, it felt good.... too good. Like an obedient and attentive object ready to serve. I grabbed him by the hair to rub him again and again against my skin, which made him let out a moan.

- Ah, ah, A-Alan!

- No. My name is Blake.

I demanded. Squeezing his hair, which made him gasp more.

- Blake... - he murmured obediently.

- That's the way I like it, puppy...

I smiled.

When I least expected it, we were both slammed up against the mirror, his pectorals clashing on the cold surface, and his rod rubbing over and over in the reflection.

- Ah, ah!

I nibbled on his neck, squeezing his waist tighter, the back and forth between our bodies was continuous, sweaty and intoxicating. As if we had both surrendered to simple instincts, but geez. Getting the body of my dreams and having that same guy at my feet could make me last for hours.

- I-I'm going to finish - he sighed with his eyes closed, anxious. I was about to hit him harder when I thought, with a wicked grin. I stopped the movements, which made him feel more desperate - Why are you stopping?

- Tell me you'll always be Alan.

I stroked him gently, as if at any moment he was going to take his hand away.

- What? What the hell are you talking about?

- And I'll always be Blake.

I smiled.

- Dude, I'm not liking what you're saying, I think...

I was about to speak when I pushed back against him, burying my tool even deeper.

His eyes widened, his cheek pressed against the glass as he gasped for more, thrust again and again. Enjoying the sound of the skins slapping against each other, saliva even seemed to drip from his mouth, a goofy, lost smile on his face.

- Say it.

- I-I...

- Say it! - I applied more force again. What seemed to break him was when I touched that sensitive spot inside him.

- Ah, I'm Alan! Your Blake! Ah, ah! - he gasped with a smile, nodding. I couldn't help releasing my seed inside him, immediately, he did the same, spilling that whitish liquid against the reflection.

I let it spill with satisfaction on my face. Alan's breathing looked ragged, a mess, he watched me closely.

I thought he would have a fit of rage, or try to hit me, even complain: but instead, he just smiled.

- Blake...

He muttered.

The days went on after that. I knew people could notice the “new” behavior in Caleb, Ruben, Blake, even Alan. But many preferred to ignore it, besides. What would they say to popular guys?

Exactly, nothing.

The new Logan was very meek, Ethan and Miles on the other hand? For a while they were annoying, but after a couple of talks, discipline and their mouths being occupied for more than just complaining, they became as obedient as he was.

And everything seemed to be perfect, I loved being Blake, just look at these muscles!

Everyone was looking at me, everyone was crazy about me, drooling at every step I took in this school, where I was finally the king.

Slowly I started to wear more revealing clothes. Fuck it, what does it matter?

Sexy, an adonis. At first I worried what I would do about Blake's sports, he had the brains but not his athletic abilities. But we quickly learned that the talents and abilities of our current bodies seemed to be preserved.

Ruben was quite a sensation for the works, they said he had become a little more... “spicy.” The rumors of dating girls had disappeared but mysteriously seemed to have been replaced by rumors of dating boys.

Caleb, well. He was still sweaty-smelling and fond of exercise, but he had improved his grades, as well as acquiring a new taste for superhero costumes. He almost seemed obsessed with watching the spandex stretch to highlight his muscles.

The new and improved Blake, was quite the star. Skilled at sports, more strategic than before, even ruthless? And well, more exhibitionist.

But you know what was best of all? The new Alan. He became a star of the theater, almost on Ruben's level. And shortly thereafter he spoke to me to “formalize” our relationship.

It had worked out well for everyone, hadn't it?

To be continued.

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I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages.

This is the fourth part of “Switch Up”, a new series for the blog, I hope you like it. The story of Ethan and his friends is almost at the end... But what other adventures will the control be able to give?

See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

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