#Just having the time of my life with all of this
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
marvelsmostwanted · 3 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
There are people – some in my own Party – who think that if you just give Donald Trump everything he wants, he’ll make an exception and spare you some of the harm. I’ll ignore the moral abdication of that position for just a second to say — almost none of those people have the experience with this President that I do. I once swallowed my pride to offer him what he values most — public praise on the Sunday news shows — in return for ventilators and N95 masks during the worst of the pandemic. We made a deal. And it turns out his promises were as broken as the BIPAP machines he sent us instead of ventilators. Going along to get along does not work – just ask the Trump-fearing red state Governors who are dealing with the same cuts that we are. I won’t be fooled twice.
I’ve been reflecting, these past four weeks, on two important parts of my life: my work helping to build the Illinois Holocaust Museum and the two times I’ve had the privilege of reciting the oath of office for Illinois Governor.
As some of you know, Skokie, Illinois once had one of the largest populations of Holocaust survivors anywhere in the world. In 1978, Nazis decided they wanted to march there.
The leaders of that march knew that the images of Swastika clad young men goose stepping down a peaceful suburban street would terrorize the local Jewish population – so many of whom had never recovered from their time in German concentration camps.
The prospect of that march sparked a legal fight that went all the way to the Supreme Court. It was a Jewish lawyer from the ACLU who argued the case for the Nazis – contending that even the most hateful of speech was protected under the first amendment.
As an American and a Jew, I find it difficult to resolve my feelings around that Supreme Court case – but I am grateful that the prospect of Nazis marching in their streets spurred the survivors and other Skokie residents to act. They joined together to form the Holocaust Memorial Foundation and built the first Illinois Holocaust Museum in a storefront in 1981 – a small but important forerunner to the one I helped build thirty years later.
I do not invoke the specter of Nazis lightly. But I know the history intimately — and have spent more time than probably anyone in this room with people who survived the Holocaust. Here’s what I’ve learned – the root that tears apart your house’s foundation begins as a seed – a seed of distrust and hate and blame.
The seed that grew into a dictatorship in Europe a lifetime ago didn’t arrive overnight. It started with everyday Germans mad about inflation and looking for someone to blame.
I’m watching with a foreboding dread what is happening in our country right now. A president who watches a plane go down in the Potomac – and suggests — without facts or findings — that a diversity hire is responsible for the crash. Or the Missouri Attorney General who just sued Starbucks – arguing that consumers pay higher prices for their coffee because the baristas are too “female” and “nonwhite.” The authoritarian playbook is laid bare here: They point to a group of people who don’t look like you and tell you to blame them for your problems.
I just have one question: What comes next? After we’ve discriminated against, deported or disparaged all the immigrants and the gay and lesbian and transgender people, the developmentally disabled, the women and the minorities – once we’ve ostracized our neighbors and betrayed our friends – After that, when the problems we started with are still there staring us in the face – what comes next.
All the atrocities of human history lurk in the answer to that question. And if we don’t want to repeat history – then for God’s sake in this moment we better be strong enough to learn from it.
I swore the following oath on Abraham Lincoln’s Bible: “I do solemnly swear that I will support the constitution of the United States, and the constitution of the state of Illinois, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office of Governor .... according to the best of my ability.
My oath is to the Constitution of our state and of our country. We don’t have kings in America – and I don’t intend to bend the knee to one. I am not speaking up in service to my ambitions — but in deference to my obligations.
If you think I’m overreacting and sounding the alarm too soon, consider this:
It took the Nazis one month, three weeks, two days, eight hours and 40 minutes to dismantle a constitutional republic. All I’m saying is when the five-alarm fire starts to burn, every good person better be ready to man a post with a bucket of water if you want to stop it from raging out of control.
Those Illinois Nazis did end up holding their march in 1978 – just not in Skokie. After all the blowback from the case, they decided to march in Chicago instead. Only twenty of them showed up. But 2000 people came to counter protest. The Chicago Tribune reported that day that the “rally sputtered to an unspectacular end after ten minutes.” It was Illinoisans who smothered those embers before they could burn into a flame.
Tyranny requires your fear and your silence and your compliance. Democracy requires your courage. So gather your justice and humanity, Illinois, and do not let the “tragic spirit of despair” overcome us when our country needs us the most.
Sources:
• NBC Chicago & J.B. Pritzker, Democratic governor of Illinois, State of the State address 2025: Watch speech here | Full text
• Betches News on Instagram (screencaps)
69K notes · View notes
zackstriker · 2 days ago
Text
hey before whatever happens with dnp this weekend happens, in case anything changes, i just want to say i love yall and this community and its such a joy to be with you guys through this journey.
342 notes · View notes
steddiehyperfixation · 2 days ago
Text
silly little thing for my @steddiebingo prompt: nerds | 758 words | T |
"Hey, maybe he can help," Robin says, sweeping a hand towards Dustin who's just walked into Family Video for his regularly scheduled afterschool bug Steve and Robin time, interrupting their conversation.
"Oh come on." Steve shakes his head. "The kid doesn't want to hear about my trash heap of a love life."
"Oh, no, I absolutely want to hear about that." Dustin perks up at the opportunity to learn about Steve's trivial suffering.
"We're trying to figure out why Steve goes on a million dates but can't seem to find someone he actually likes," Robin fills Dustin in. "Tell him, Steve."
Steve groans, dragging his hands over his face before splaying them out sarcastically, as that's the only thing he can really do in protest right now. Dustin's looking at him expectantly, and Steve has no choice but to tell the kid all about Linda and Heidi and Brenda and Lucy and whoever else he's been out with recently, doing his best to answer any subsequent questions as PG as possible.
"Well of course you haven't found the one yet, you keep trying to date a bunch of normal, basic, girly girls. That's not your type," Dustin informs him once Steve's done talking.
Steve raises his eyebrows. "Oh, it isn't?"
"You can't really be that stupid, can you?"
"No, please, Henderson, enlighten me on what you think my type is."
"You're into nerds," he says like it's completely obvious.
Steve scoffs. "I am not into nerds. You know, just because I hang around you little weirdos all the time does not actually mean I want to hang around even more weirdos in all the other aspects of my life too."
"Seriously, Steve, think about it," Dustin argues. "Think of all the girls you've actually been really genuinely into in your life. They've all been nerds! Nancy-"
"- is not a nerd."
"She's a straight-A student and a journalism super geek. She's a nerd."
Steve rolls his eyes and sighs grudgingly. "Alright, fine, but-"
"And you were into Robin-"
Robin wrinkles her nose. "Ugh, don't remind me."
"-who you can't deny is definitely a nerd," Dustin continues.
"You know what, actually, he does have a point," Robin says.
Steve looks at her in betrayal. "Don't encourage him!"
"That girl you told me about that you liked in middle school who was super into Star Trek, and the other one who wanted to write a fantasy novel one day- oh and the elementary school crush who was always reading a new book every day..." Robin lists, ticking each one off on her fingers.
"I told you all that in confidence!"
"They were all nerds!"
"Exactly." Dustin grins, vindicated and insufferably smug. "Ergo, you, Steve Harrington, need to find yourself a nerd."
"I am not into nerds!" Steve protests hopelessly.
"What more proof do you need?" Dustin says. "You're into nerds."
"Totally into nerds," Robin concurs.
Steve huffs and throws up his hands. "Fine! I'll admit I'm into nerds if it will make you two shut up about it!"
Eddie happens to wander into the previously empty store at that exact moment, catching the tail end of the conversation as he approaches the counter. "What's all this about nerds?"
Steve freezes, glances Eddie over and stares at him strangely for a few long seconds. "Holy shit," he mutters.
His gaze cuts to Robin, whose eyes go wide when she meets his look. "Holy shit," she agrees.
"Oh my god."
"Oh my god."
"Dude."
"Dude!"
Eddie blinks at them. "Are you two having some sort of joint stroke or something?" He looks at Dustin as if the kid might have a better clue of what's going on. "Can you understand them?"
Dustin shrugs, equally mystified. "Don't look at me, man. They're weird."
The incomprehensible parroting conversation is still going on.
"Okay," Steve's saying, taking a deep breath in through his nose and exhaling determinedly.
"Okay?"
"Okay."
"Okay." Robin grins and shoves at his shoulder.
Steve finally turns back around and leans on the counter in front of Eddie with a classically charming smile. "So, Eddie, are you free on Saturday?"
Eddie smiles back despite his confusion. "Yeah-"
"Oh my god!" Dustin bursts out suddenly.
"Oh my god," Robin agrees with a knowing smirk.
Eddie glances at Dustin. "Oh no, not you too."
Steve exhales a long-suffering sigh and pushes himself off the counter, marching around to grab Eddie by the hand and drag him away from Dustin and Robin. "So. Saturday?"
"He's into nerds," Dustin whispers, wide-eyed.
Robin nods sagely. "He's into nerds."
698 notes · View notes
hanniebaeee · 2 days ago
Text
The Secret Hwang
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hyunjin x fem!reader
Warnings: reader is pregnant
Genre: exes to lovers?? angst, fluff
Summary: Hyunjin breaks up with you after the company thinks your relationship is affecting his work. What he didn't know was that you were also gearing up to tell him something very important. But then swoops in two angels in disguise, helping you through the tough time, before it all blows over.
Tumblr media
You’re breaking up with me?” The words left your lips before your brain could catch up.
Your heart thundered against your ribcage, like it was desperate to escape what was unfolding right then. And your boyfriend of three years, Hyunjin, looked as miserable as you felt.
Hyunjin stood in front of you, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders sagging. He wouldn’t look at you - that was even worse.
“Yes,” he whispered, voice so low it barely registered. “I'm so sorry.”
You take a step closer, his words not making any sense.
“You have to? What the hell does that mean, Hyunjin? Did I…did I do something? Did I hurt you-?”
His head snaps up, his eyes wide and glossy, horrified at the mere suggestion.
“No! Of course not! You’ve never - God, Y/N, no. It’s -” His words faltered, and he looked away again, his hands shaking as they grip his hoodie strings. “It’s…they think it’s affecting me. My work.”
“Who? The company?”
“They said…” He swallowed hard, the words clearly tearing him apart as he forced them out. “They said if I don’t end this, they’ll fire you. They’ll make sure you never work in this industry again. And they’ll…ruin it all for you...”
You stared at him, utterly speechless. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
“So what? You’re just going to do what they want? Throw away three years like it means nothing?”
“It’s not like that,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Protect me? By breaking me?” You laughed bitterly, even though it felt more like choking.
You knew he wanted to reach for you, to pull you close like he always did when you were upset, but he didn’t move.
“Baby, I don’t have a choice. If I don’t do this-”
You didn't stay to hear the rest. You took a step back before saying, “You’re a coward,”
Hyunjin’s head snapped up like you slapped him, but you pressed on.
“You’re letting them control you. Letting them decide what our love is worth. You’re not even fighting for me.”
Hyunjin’s face crumpled, and for a second, you thought he would reconsider. But he didn't. He just looked really sad. And lost.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Goodbye, Hyunjin.”
And then you ran. You didn’t look back. You couldn't. Because if you did, you’d fall apart completely, and you just couldn’t afford that. Not with the tiny life growing inside you.
The three months that followed were hard, no doubt. But relatively less harder than you thought, considering the fact that the boys were on tour. You didn't have to see him everyday as you taught your heart to ‘unlove’ him. If such a thing could be done.
You had decided to go ahead with your pregnancy - bad call probably, because you obviously couldn't tell anyone that your baby was Hyunjin’s. Of course. So you'd have to come up with a creative lie to cover the gap - a non-existent boyfriend or a husband?
It was exhausting.
---
You stood at the kitchen counter, staring at your ultrasound scan result. The sight of your little bean on the screen earlier had brought tears to your eyes - happy bittersweet ones. But mostly, you’d felt so terribly lonely.
Moments like that were meant to be shared, weren’t they? Your heart ached so much. So damn much. You sighed as you gazed at the little form in the black and white image.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Setting the report on the counter, you get the door. What you didn't expect was Felix’s sweet smiling face. You hadn't seen him or any of the boys since the break up (they'd left for the tour), so seeing Felix, your close friend, made you freeze.
“Lix,” you said, your voice more tired than you’d like.
He immediately pulled you into a warm hug, and you had to control that strong urge to just weep.
“Hey,” he said, squeezing you tightly. “I missed you! How have you been?”
“I'm alright. You guys had a good tour I heard,” You managed, stepping aside to let him in.
“It was good,” He said with a smile, and held up a bag. “I brought you a little something from Australia.”
“Lix, you didn’t have to -”
“Oh, hush. I do it all the time.” he said. “You look... tired…you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you lied, waving him off.
“You want me to get his stuff? I have it packed and ready.” You said, wanting to get that out of the way as soon as possible.
“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “ Is that okay?”
Your stomach twisted unpleasantly, but you nodded and said, “Yeah, of course. Let me grab it.”
He followed you into the house, and as you went into the bedroom to get Hyunjin’s things, Felix walked into the kitchen to put the things he got for you away.
When you returned with the bag, however, you saw Felix in the kitchen, uncharacteristically quiet. You walked in and completely froze in the doorway.
Felix stood by the counter, holding your ultrasound result, and his usually bright expression was completely blank, his eyes glued black and white image.
“Lix…” you said softly, panic rising in your chest.
“Y/N,” he says, his voice eerily calm, “what is this?”
You didn’t answer, your hands trembling as you clutched the bag of Hyunjin’s things. Tears pricked your eyes, and you knew there was no use pretending or coming up with a lie.
“Please tell me this is not what I think it is.” he said, his voice wavering as he turned to face you with the paper in his hand.
Your silence spoke louder than words. Tears spilled over, and you quickly wiped at them, trying to keep it together. But it was of no use - Felix took one look at your face and let the paper fall onto the counter.
“Oh my God.” His voice cracked as he crossed the room in two giant strides, pulling you into a tight hug.
His arms wrapped around you like a safety net, holding you together.
“Y/N, please don't tell me Hyunjin knocked you up and then broke up with you. Tell me I’m hallucinating. Please.”
You laughed weakly through your tears, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once.
“He didn't know, Lix. He didn't know-” You whispered and Felix pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your shoulders.
His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to form words but couldn't. Finally, he let out a strangled laugh.
“He doesn’t know?!” He shook his head, his freckles standing out against his flushed skin. “Are you kidding me, Y/N? You’re telling me that man broke up with you because he wanted to protect you, and the entire time, you’ve been carrying his baby?”
“I was going to tell him, Lix, I was. That's why I went to meet him, but didn't give me a chance to say anything…he just…he just broke up with me!” you cried, wiping your face. “What was I supposed to do? Tell him and ruin everything?”
“Yes!” Felix shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Yes, sweetheart, you’re supposed to tell him! He deserves to know. This is big, like life changing big!”
You shook your head, your voice trembling as you said, “Lix, you don’t understand. This is about his career, his dreams. He’s worked so hard to get where he is, and I won’t be the reason he loses it all.”
Felix stared at you, his face a mixture of disbelief and heartbreak.
“Y/N,” he said softly. “You can’t do this alone.”
“I have to,” you whispered, looking down at the floor. “I will.”
“Yes, you do.” His voice was firm, his hands gently cupping your cheeks and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “But don't have to. I’m here. Whatever you need, anything at all, you’ve got me. You’re not allowed to say no, okay?”
Your breath hitched, the warmth of his hands and the sincerity in his voice had you crumblung all over again. “Lix…”
“I mean it,” he said, his eyes shining with determination. “You’re not doing this alone. I don’t care what it takes. We’re going to figure this out. Together.”
You nodded, sniffling as he wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Thank you.”
Tumblr media
Felix didn’t say anything to Hyunjin. True to his word, he kept his mouth shut, but the secret was eating him alive to say the least. The man had gone full protective mode - literally adopting you, and by extension, your unborn child, completely.
And his possessiveness manifested in the most Felix way possible: constant texting. Constant.
Also, he changed your contact name to George. Why? Because no ones gonna get suspicious about a George he's talking to 24*7, right?
---
7:32 am
Felix: Good morning, sunshine! Have you eaten yet? If not, DO IT NOW. Don’t argue with me.
Felix: I will come over if you don't obey me, George!
You: Felix, it’s 7 in the morning. I just woke up. Also, who's George?
Felix: You’re George. That’s your name now. It’s safer this way.
Felix: And don’t dodge the question: HAVE YOU EATEN???
You: I literally just rolled out of bed, Felix. Give me a second to breathe.
Felix: No time to breathe, go FEED THE BABY.
You: This baby isn’t even hungry yet. Can you chill?
Felix: Fine. But just so you know, I won't hesitate from force-feeding you myself.
---
12:45 PM
Felix: Hey, did you go to your appointment today?
You: Yes, I went.
Felix: Pics or it didn’t happen.
You: I’m not sending you pictures of me at the doctor’s office, Lix
Felix: Why not? What if I need to fight the doctor? I need evidence.
You: Why would you need to fight my doctor?
Felix: I dunno, what if they're bad at their job? I’m not taking chances, George.
You: Please stop calling me George.
Felix: It's your name.
---
7:48 PM
Felix: Are you home? Did you eat dinner? Did you lock your doors?
You: Oh my God, Felix, can you give me a second to exist without you breathing down my neck?
Felix: No. I’m invested now.
You: Why are you like this?
Felix: Because my best friend knocked you up and then left you, and now I feel morally obligated to act like your baby daddy by proxy.
You: Please don’t say that again. Ever.
Felix: Too late. Also, how’s George Jr.?
You: Felix, we are NOT naming this baby George Jr.
Felix: Why not? It’s a great name.
You: I’m blocking you.
Felix: No, you’re not.
---
Hyunjin on the other hand was completely unaware of everything that was happening around him. He was completely shut off, pouring his entire self into practice and his work outs.
He missed you. He missed you so damn much. He would randomly take a walk in the building, hoping he'd get a glimpse of you. But seriously, you were nowhere to be seen.
Hyunjin was on his way to the practice room after a particularly unsuccessful attempt to run into you, when he heard the voices. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but the venom in their tone caught his attention.
It took him a minute to figure out that they were actually talking about you, and he couldn't help but feel that rage bubbling up inside him.
“She’s gained so much weight lately,” one of the girls snickered. “I mean, have you seen her?”
The other girl laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t know what happened to her. She used to be so put together, but now? She’s just… bloated and tired all the time.”
Hyunjin’s jaw clenched so hard it felt like his teeth might crack. How dare they?! He felt the overwhelming urge to whirl around and to let his emotions loose, to say something.
But of course Hyunjin couldn’t do that. Not really. He was an idol - a carefully constructed image, a brand - and he's already sacrificed way too much for the sake of it. He couldn’t afford to screw it all up now.
So instead, he swallowed his rage, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and started walking again. And then, as if it was a cruel joke, he saw you.
You were walking down the hallway, dressed in a dark-colored sweater, your hair tied back, wisps escaping to frame your face. You looked tired, yes. But, as always, to him, you looked absolutely beautiful.
But Hyunjin couldn't help but see that something was different. His eyes lingered a little too long on the soft curve of your body. Your face seemed rounder, your stride slightly slower, more careful.
His heart ached as he watched you pause at the corner, adjusting your bag before disappearing around the corner. He missed you so much it physically hurt. Shaking his head, Hyunjin turned and walked away, trying so hard to hold it all together.
He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. He had to move on.
If only he knew that a mini Hyunjin was quite literally baking inside you, tucked away and growing strong under that sweater. If only he knew.
Tumblr media
3:40 pm
Felix: How's the nausea?
You: I can't understand why it's called morning sickness if it's gonna last all day and trying to murder me
Felix: Don’t worry, George, I’m gonna make you the perfect meal. Zero vomit potential.
You: Omg
---
Meanwhile in Felix’s kitchen:
Felix was in deep. The counter was a disaster of herbs and half-cut veggies, and a pan bubbled ominously on the stove. His laptop sat precariously on the edge of the counter, streaming a cooking tutorial that Felix was utterly failing to keep up with.
“Chop the ginger finely,” the video said.
Felix frowned down at the mangled, uneven chunks of ginger on his cutting board.
“This is fine, right?” he mumbled to himself, throwing them into a pan.
“No, it’s not fine,” a voice said behind him, calm but dripping with judgment.
Felix jumped, yelping as he nearly knocked the pan off the stove. He whirled around to see Minho leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised.
“Hyung!” Felix squeaked, his voice an octave too high. “What are you doing here?”
“We're having dinner together. Forgot I see ?” Minho asked flatly, his sharp eyes sweeping over the culinary battlefield. He nodded at the laptop screen.
“What’s this? I thought we were ordering?”
Felix scrambled to close the YouTube video but fumbled, sending a spatula clattering to the floor.
“No! I just…uh…thought this recipe looked… yummy?”
Minho’s other eyebrow shot up as he read, “Ginger and lemon soup for nausea relief? That’s not exactly your usual vibe, Lix.”
Felix froze, his brain scrambling for an excuse. “I…uh…”
Minho tilted his head, his gaze locked on Felix. He gestured toward the mess. “Who’s it for?”
“No one!” Felix blurted out too quickly.
Minho smirked - like a cat cornering a mouse. He strolled into the kitchen, plucked up the laptop, and read the YouTube title aloud: “Pregnancy-Friendly Meals, huh?”
Felix groaned internally. He was so dead. Minho set the laptop down and turned to Felix, his face unreadable.
“You’re cooking for Y/N, aren’t you?”
“How…what…why would you -” Felix blinked at him, jaw dropping.
“I saw her going into a maternity hospital last week...and now this? It’s really sweet of you,” Minho said, his tone soft and kind, as he started clearing the counter. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”
Felix stared at him, absolutely flabbergasted. How did Minho know? He stayed silent, unsure if confirming or denying would make things worse.
“Relax, I’m not going to say anything. But…” His sharp eyes flicked to the pan on the stove, then back to Felix, a smirk forming on his face. “You’re doing a terrible job. Move.”
Before Felix could protest, Minho rolled up his sleeves and took over. Within minutes, the chaos Felix had created was transformed into a very professionally prepared meal.
Felix hovered awkwardly, torn between relief and panic. “You…you won’t tell anyone, right?”
Minho snorted. “Of course not. And if you’re serious about helping her, then I'll stand right by you.”
He packed up everything in containers and handed it to Felix with a raised eyebrow.
“Now go. She needs to eat.”
---
Felix was at yours in record time, and when he set the food down on the coffee table, you looked up from the couch, sighing softly.
“Did you burn the kitchen down?”
“Nope,” Felix said quickly. “Minho saved me.”
Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “What? Minho? He knows?”
Felix flopped onto the couch beside you, looking absolutely defeated.
“Yeah, apparently he’s known for a while. He saw you going into the maternity hospital one day.”
You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “Oh my God.”
“He promised not to say anything!” Felix said defensively, holding his hands up. “And he even helped cook this. So, technically, you can’t kill me.”
You glared at him but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.
“Thanks for being here, Lix.”
Felix grinned, nudging the plate toward you. “Eat, George. Minho will haunt me if you don’t.”
You rolled your eyes but dug in, and for the first time in days, the food didn’t immediately send you running for the bathroom.
---
The next morning, you woke up to the doorbell, in the early hours. It was still dark outside, as you stumbled out of your bedroom, still half-asleep, and a scowl firmly planted on your face.
“Took you long enough,” Minho mumbled as he walked into your apartment, going straight for the kitchen. 
You were trying to understand if you were hallucinating or if Minho was actually in your kitchen. 
“Minho, what are you doing here?” You asked, trying to tame your hair. 
“Sit,” he commanded without looking up, focused on flipping something in the pan.
You frowned but obeyed, collapsing into a chair at the table. “It’s not even sunrise.”
“Just making sure you eat,” he said simply. “Lix said you're struggling,”
“You're here to cook for me?”
“Yes?”
Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Felix stepped inside, carrying what looked like a bag of groceries. He stopped short, staring at Minho with the same confusion you felt.
“What is he doing here?”
“I could ask the same about you,” Minho shot back without missing a beat, sprinkling a pinch of salt over whatever masterpiece he was working on.
Felix stormed into the kitchen, setting his bag down with an unnecessary thud. “What are you doing, hyung? And what are you even making? George doesn’t even like eggs that much!”
Minho scoffed. “It’s not for you, so why does it matter?”
“It matters because I’m supposed to be taking care of her!” Felix snapped, crossing his arms like an angry puppy.
“Clearly, you weren’t doing a great job,” Minho retorted. “I saw the mess you called cooking yesterday.”
“Oh my god,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands. “Not this.”
---
Over the next few days, it became a full-on battle between Minho and Felix. It started with each trying to one-up the other in ways that were more amusing than helpful.
One morning, Felix insisted on making pancakes, painstakingly arranging blueberries into a smiley face on each one. “See, George? They’re cute and delicious!”
Minho, unimpressed, countered by making a three-course breakfast complete with fresh juice and perfectly folded napkins. “Pregnant women need nutrients, not art projects,” he said smugly.
Felix glared at him like he wanted to fight. “Pregnant women also need to smile, and my pancakes are adorable.”
But for all their ridiculousness, their constant presence was a comfort. They kept you distracted from the gaping hole in your chest where Hyunjin’s absence had settled. But no amount of blueberry pancakes or perfectly cooked meals could fill that void.
Tumblr media
Felix had barged into your apartment one evening with a box of cookies that he'd baked.
“George! I baked you something!”
Minho, already in the kitchen chopping vegetables, glanced over his shoulder with a look that screamed, not this again.
“What are those?” Minho asked, gesturing to Felix's box  with his knife.
“Cookies,” Felix said proudly, setting them on the table in front of you. “Pregnancy-safe, gluten-free, sugar-free, full of love.”
“Full of what?” Minho deadpanned, clearly unimpressed.
“Love!” Felix shot back, hands on his hips. “Something you wouldn’t understand, obviously.”
“Love isn’t a substitute for nutrition, Yongbok. Try again.” Minho snorted.
“Oh, here we go,” you muttered, already bracing for the impending argument as you sat at the table, nibbling cautiously on a cookie.
“You’re just jealous because George Jr. is my baby,” Felix said, crossing his arms and glaring at Minho like he’d just won the argument of the century.
Minho paused mid-chop, turned slowly to face Felix.
“George Jr.?” he asked flatly. “That’s the best you could come up with?”
“What’s wrong with George Jr.?” Felix said defensively. “It’s a strong name! Unique even!”
Minho scoffed. “Unique isn’t always a good thing, Felix. You might as well call the baby Lemon or Carrot.”
“Wow, okay,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.
“And besides,” Minho continued, turning back to the stove like the conversation was settled, “I do the majority of the cooking, Y/N is thriving on it, so I'm the rightful Appa.”
Felix gasped like Minho had just slapped him.
“Excuse me? Cooking doesn’t make you the dad! I’m the one who gives her all the cuddles and emotional support!”
“You’re like a clingy golden retriever,” Minho shot back, not even turning around.
“Say that again, hyung, I dare -”
“Enough!” you shouted, cutting through their bickering. Both men froze, wide-eyed, and looked at you.
“I'm sure Hyunjin would probably like a say in this whole ‘who’s the dad’ debate.” you said, and the room fell silent. 
And then Minho shrugged casually.
“I mean, sure, if we’re counting his five seconds of contribution to this whole thing.”
You and Felix both turned to stare at him, your mouths dropping open in identical expressions of disbelief. It took approximately two seconds before all three of you burst out laughing.
The laughter started light, then turned uncontrollable, your giggles mixing with Felix’s loud snorts and Minho’s chuckles. You laughed so hard your sides started to hurt, but then, without warning, the giggles morphed into something else.
The tears hit you before you could stop them. One moment you were laughing, and the next, you were crying, the overwhelming mix of emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave.
Felix’s smile faltered, and he rushed to your side, wrapping an arm around you.
“George, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, his usual sunshine dimmed by concern.
Minho was there a moment later, kneeling in front of you and gently resting a hand on your knee. 
“Breathe, jagi,” he said quietly. “You’re okay. We’re here.”
You sniffled, trying to compose yourself, but the weight of everything - the pregnancy, the secret, missing Hyunjin - was too much.
“I miss him…a lot,” you managed between sobs.
“I know, I know…but we're here for you, George. You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ve got you.” Felix hugged you tighter, his voice steady but emotional.
Minho nodded as he said, “He’s right. You’re stuck with us now. You and George Jr.”
That earned a watery laugh from you, and you wiped at your eyes, looking between them. 
“I don’t deserve you two.”
“Yes, you do,” Minho said firmly.
“Absolutely,” Felix added. “And so does George Jr.”
---
Hyunjin was losing his mind.
It wasn’t just the lingering ache of your absence or the fact that he hadn’t heard your voice in what felt like forever. But it was also Felix, his best friend, his other half, his partner-in-crime. Felix was suddenly a closed book. The guy who usually shared everything, from dumb cat videos to the tiniest gossip about their members, had turned into a human vault. A sketchy human vault.
Felix was constantly disappearing. After practice, during breaks, even in the middle of game nights. When Hyunjin asked, Felix always had some vague excuse. 
“Oh, just running errands!”
“Helping out Minho-hyung with something.”
“Had to grab something for George!”
Who the hell was George? 
Hyunjin squinted every time Felix made one of these excuses. Since when was his best friend suddenly so obsessed with running errands? And why was Minho always involved?
Hyunjin didn’t like it.
At first, he chalked it up to paranoia. Maybe he was overthinking. Obviously, losing you had him extra possessive and clingy. Maybe Felix and Minho were just…hanging out more? It wasn’t a crime. But then Hyunjin started noticing things.
Felix and Minho were inseparable. They’re always whispering about God-knows-what. They’d vanish together after schedules, not even bothering to invite Hyunjin to join.
So naturally, one evening, after a particularly grueling practice session, Hyunjin cornered Felix in the locker room.
“Lix,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall like he was interrogating a criminal. “Where have you been going all the time?”
And to his credit, Felix didn’t even flinch.
“Oh, nowhere. Just hanging out with Minho-hyung. You know how it is.”
“Since when do you and Minho-hyung have this…whatever-this-is?” Hyunjin narrowed his eyes.
Felix shrugged nonchalantly, pulling his hoodie over his head and saying, “We’ve just been vibing.”
“Vibing?” Hyunjin echoed, incredulous. “You disappear every day to vibe? And what’s with all the whispering during practice?”
Felix zipped up his hoodie and slung his bag over his shoulder.
“You’re being dramatic, Hyun. It’s nothing.”
Hyunjin stared at him, trying to gauge if Felix was lying. But Felix’s face was completely blank, a perfect poker face.
“What about Y/N?” Hyunjin asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Have you…seen her?”
At that, Felix paused, just for a second, but it was enough for Hyunjin to notice.
“I'm sure she’s good, Hyun. Busy probably.” he managed, giving him a smile.
Hyunjin frowned, but before he could press further, Felix clapped him on the shoulder.
“Don’t overthink, mate. Get some rest, yeah?”
And just like that, Felix was gone, leaving Hyunjin standing in the empty locker room, more confused than ever.
---
The next day, Hyunjin had been lingering suspiciously around the studio after practice, pretending to stretch while trying (and failing) to overhear Felix and Minho’s latest hushed conversation.
Chris, so so used to all the bullshit his boys pulled on the regular, had noticed this constant whispering between Felix and Minho, and also Hyunjin’s not-so-subtle attempts to loiter. He clapped his hands loudly.
“Hyunjin, go home. You’re exhausted, mate.”
Hyunjin, startled, stammered something about finishing up but Chris gave him a hard enough glare that had him reluctantly packing up and storming off (throwing one last suspicious glance at Felix, who pretended to be engrossed in tying his shoelaces.)
Once Hyunjin was out the door, Chris turned to Felix and Minho, his arms crossed and his leader gaze set to high alert.
“Okay,” he said, his voice stern, “what’s going on with you two? You’ve been sneaking around like teenagers, and I have a bad feeling about it. Spill.”
Felix and Minho exchanged a glance, before Minho shook his head. 
“Nothing’s going on, hyung,” Minho said coolly, leaning against the wall like he wasn’t sweating internally.
Felix, on the other hand, immediately started babbling. 
“Oh, you know, just chilling and cooking and - did you know George is a big fan of pumpkin soup? I’ve been learning how to make it. Minho hyung’s been helping…he’s such a perfectionist in the kitchen, but that’s beside the point -”
But the moment ‘George’ left his mouth, Minho sighed. 
“Who the hell is George?” Chris interrupted, his sharp eyes narrowing.
Minho sighed, muttering, “Great work, Yongbok.”
Felix blinked rapidly, his face heating up. He could do anything, literally anything in the world. But that anything didn't include lying to Chris. 
“Oh, uh, George is just…you know…a friend!” 
“A friend? You’ve been disappearing every day,  and sneaking around because of a friend?”
Felix opened his mouth, probably to launch into another nonsensical explanation, but Minho cut him off.
“George is Y/N,” he said flatly, like he was tired of the charade.
Chris froze.
“What do you mean George is Y/N?” he asked, his voice rising slightly. “What the hell is going on?”
Felix started flailing, his words tripping over each other.
“It’s not like we didn’t want to tell you, hyung, but it’s complicated, and she’s been going through a lot, and she needs all the help and support with George Jr. -”
“George Jr.?!” Chris exclaimed, his voice now echoing off the walls.
Minho, as calm as ever, pointed at Felix. “You’re making it worse.”
Chris threw his hands in the air as he said, “What is George Jr.?!”
“You mean who is George Jr.? It’s the baby. She’s pregnant.” Minho sighed, rubbing his temples.
The room went silent. Chris blinked several times, his expression cycling through shock, confusion, and then something that could only be described as 'Dad Rage'.
“She’s pregnant?! SHE’S PREGNANT, AND YOU TWO KEPT THIS FROM ME?!”
Felix, now thoroughly panicking, looked at Minho like he was begging for help. Minho just shrugged.
Chris glared at both of them. “You’re taking me to her. Right now.”
---
Ten minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You waddled over and opened it to find Chris standing there, his arms crossed and his eyes full of emotion.
Before you could say a word, he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.
“Y/N,” he said firmly, his voice laced with both worry and frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Behind him, Felix stood pouting like a scolded child and Minho looked like he regretted everything.
“Chris,” you gasped, trying to pull back from his hug. “I can’t breathe!”
He released you but kept his hands on your shoulders, scanning your face like a concerned dad. “You should’ve told me. We’re family, Y/N. You thought of doing this alone? Does he know? Oh my god, he doesn't know, does he?!”
From behind him, Felix muttered, “She’s not alone. I’ve been taking care of her.”
Chris whipped around to face him.
“Oh, you’ve been taking care of her, have you?!”
Felix folded his arms, his pout deepening.
“George Jr. is mine. None of you fake dads are gonna ever-”
Minho, who’d been quiet up until now, rolled his eyes and interrupted him.
“Please. You think you’re the dad just because you baked her cookies? Please.”
Felix turned to him, affronted. “You’ve been helping me! And my baby!”
“Oh, for the love of -” Chris groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, before glancing at you. “We're gonna get through this.”
You smiled at them, nodding. But deep inside, guilt gnawed at you. Everyone except Hyunjin seemed to be catching up. 
Tumblr media
You'd started working from home more and more since you started your sixth month. You came over to the company only when you had something important to do. 
This afternoon was supposed to be uneventful. You had planned to drop by the company, grab a few files, and leave quickly. But apparently, fate had other plans.
You were leaving one of the offices when you heard it.
“Y/N?”
The voice was soft, almost hesitant. You froze in place, gripping the files tightly against your chest. Slowly, you turned to see Hyunjin standing a few feet away, his eyes wide as saucers, his gaze locked on you.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. His gaze flickered down to your stomach - the not-so-subtle curve of your six-month baby bump that your sweater absolutely failed to conceal under closer scrutiny.
Hyunjin’s face drained of all color.
“What…Y/N…are you…?” he stammered, his voice breaking.
You panicked, taking a step back. “Hyunjin, I -”
But he was already closing the distance between you, his voice rising into a frantic whisper.
“Are you pregnant?!”
You winced, glancing around nervously, but the hallway was thankfully empty. Still, Hyunjin’s voice, even when hushed, completely floored you.
“Hyunjin, let’s not -”
“Are you pregnant?!” he repeated, his voice breaking. His hand gestured toward your stomach, and he looked so utterly wrecked that you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.
So you nodded.
His reaction was immediate. Hyunjin stumbled backward, his eyes welling up with tears, his hands clutching his head as if trying to keep himself from falling apart.
“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Oh my God. Oh my God, it’s mine, isn’t it?”
You swallowed hard, your throat tightening at the sight of him falling apart. “Hyunjin -”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was louder now, no longer a whisper. “That’s my baby! Our baby! And you didn’t tell me?”
“Hyunjin, please,” you begged, trying to calm him, but he was a storm you couldn’t contain.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded again, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I would’ve left everything for you! Don’t you know that? I would’ve -”
You shook your head fiercely, your own tears spilling over now.
“Hyunjin, I couldn't -”
“I don’t care!” he shouted, his voice cracking painfully. “None of it means anything if I don’t have you!”
Before either of you could say more, Chris appeared, obviously having heard the chaos from the other end of the hallway.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded, his eyes flickering between you and the sobbing mess that was Hyunjin.
“Hyung,” Hyunjin sobbed, clutching Chris’s arm as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. “She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant, and she didn’t tell me. That’s my baby.” His voice broke again, and he leaned heavily into Chris, tears falling freely.
Chris’s expression softened instantly, and he glanced at you as you stood rooted to your spot, tears spilling down your cheeks. 
“Hyunjin, calm down. Let’s talk about this somewhere else, okay?” He tried to guide Hyunjin back toward the practice room, but Hyunjin was not taking orders from anyone at this point.
“No,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m not going anywhere until she tells me why she didn’t tell me.”
You stepped closer, your heart breaking as you cupped his tear-streaked cheeks with trembling hands. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his eyes red and raw as they searched yours for answers.
“Because,” you whispered, your voice cracking, “I love you. I love you too much to let you give up your dreams for me.”
Hyunjin’s tears fell harder.
“You think I’d regret it?” he choked out. “You think I’d ever regret choosing you? Choosing our baby?”
You shook your head through your tears.
“I couldn’t let you make that choice, Hyun. Not when I knew how much this means to you.”
Before he could respond, Felix and Minho arrived, their worried faces appearing at the end of the hallway. Felix took one look at the scene and immediately rushed to Hyunjin’s side, wrapping an arm around him.
“Hyunjin,” Felix said softly, his own voice shaking. “Come on, breathe.”
Minho, meanwhile, approached you, his arm going around your shoulder, and then glancing at Hyunjin.
“You’re not going to solve anything by falling apart here,” he said calmly. “Pull yourself together.”
But Hyunjin was inconsolable, his sobs growing louder.
“I didn’t know. I didn’t know. She’s been going through this alone, and I didn’t know. What kind of person does that make me?”
You stepped closer, your voice firm as you said, “Hyunjin, stop. You’re not a bad person. This isn’t your fault. If anything, it's mine. For keeping this from you.”
“I want to be there. Oh my God, I love you! Don’t shut me out again,” he whispered brokenly. “Please.”
You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I won’t.”
As Chris and Felix finally led Hyunjin away, Minho stayed behind, pulling you into a hug.
“Well,” he said dryly, “that could’ve gone worse.”
You let out a shaky laugh, wiping your tears. “Could it?”
Minho sshrugged
“At least he knows now. He’ll come around. And when he does…” He smirked faintly. “You’re going to have a hell of a time keeping him out of your hair.”
You sighed, your heart heavy but hopeful. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Tumblr media
The company meeting was the stuff of legends. Chris had marched in like the leader of a revolution, Hyunjin trailing behind with fire in his eyes. By the end of it, the higher-ups had no choice but to relent. Hyunjin wasn’t going anywhere. Neither were you. And most importantly, Hyunjin was going to make damn sure his family - you and George Jr. were going to be happy, and with him always. 
Now that he was officially back, Hyunjin wasted no time slipping into full-time ‘husband’ mode. His mission? Make up for every second he’d missed. And maybe, just maybe, remind Minho and Felix that while they had been excellent stand-ins, it was time to hand over the reins to the rightful husband.
But, of course, Felix and Minho had no intention of stepping aside without a fight.
---
You and Hyunjin were finally having some well-deserved downtime - he had you nestled against his chest on the couch, his hand resting protectively on your bump. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt calm. Peaceful.
And then Felix appeared.
“Move,” Felix announced dramatically, striding into the room and pointing at Hyunjin like he was accusing him of a crime.
“What?” Hyunjin asked, frowning.
“I said move,” Felix repeated, already wedging himself between the two of you (particularly experienced with this as he'd done it a hundred times before). 
You couldn’t help but laugh as Felix threw an arm around you and placed his head on your shoulder.
“Just so you know, Mr. Biological Father,” Felix began, glaring pointedly at Hyunjin, “George Jr. is mine. We share an emotional bond that transcends DNA, okay? And, George? She's mine too. You being back changes nothing.”
Hyunjin’s jaw dropped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 
“What are you even talking about?! Why are you still calling her that?!”
Felix huffed dramatically, clutching you tighter. 
“Because she’s my George! And I will not stand for you disrupting the sacred trust we’ve built. Now go be useful and bring George her smoothie.”
Hyunjin looked at you, utterly baffled. “You’re seriously letting him call you George?”
“It’s a thing now. I’ve stopped fighting it.” You shrugged, trying to stifle your giggles.
Felix gave Hyunjin a smug grin.
“See? She’s accepted her destiny. Now go.”
Before Hyunjin could fire back, Minho’s voice floated in from the kitchen.
“Yongbok-ah, I’m the one making the smoothie. I know how to serve the smoothie I made. Hyunjin, if you’re so desperate to help, why don’t you go fold the laundry or something?”
Hyunjin groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
“Why am I suddenly the errand boy in my own house?”
Minho appeared in the doorway, smoothie in hand, his expression deadpan.
“Maybe because we’ve been doing all the heavy lifting for months while you were busy, I don’t know, not knowing she was pregnant.” he said, and Hyunjin flinched, clutching his chest like Minho had shot him.
“Okay, low blow.”
“I call it the truth.” Minho smirked. 
“Minho hyung and I have carried this team for far too long. You’re going to have to earn your place here, buddy.” Felix said with a grin. 
Hyunjin threw his hands up in exasperation and said, “She’s literally my girlfriend! How do I have to earn anything?!”
“George belongs to us, Hyunjin. Now go fold the laundry.” Felix said, waving Hyunjin away.
You burst out laughing, clutching your belly as Hyunjin huffed in annoyance before stomping off. He came back with a basket full of freshly washed and dried clothes, and started folding.
“I’ll fold every piece of laundry in Korea if it means overthrowing these two clowns.”
“You guys are all insane, you know that?” you said, shaking your head. 
“We prefer devoted.” Felix grinned.
“Dedicated. Loyal.” Minho nodded. 
“Whatever they are, I’ll beat them at it. Just watch.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes but threw you a wink.
Tumblr media
Divider: @saradika-graphics
Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx @channie4lifeee143127
942 notes · View notes
gojofile · 2 days ago
Text
nice boys don’t kiss like that
Tumblr media
summary: when your former rival chances upon your diary and reads all the unpleasant things you’ve written about him, he takes it upon himself to change your mind.
⇢ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader ⇢ contains: fluff, developing relationship, former rivals to lovers, kind of suggestive, making out, profanity, posted as a mingyu fic on my main account but i want an excuse to post pining gojo on my birthday :) ⇢ word count: 3.3k ⇢ note: inspired by this scene from bridget jones’ diary. thanks for reading!
Tumblr media
It is on a twilit Saturday evening, at precisely 7:01 P.M, that Gojo Satoru is accosted by a notebook for the first time in his life.
He lets out a startled grunt and finds himself with an armful of things—a denim jacket, a crumpled grocery shopping list, an empty box of Tic Tacs, a woollen beanie with a questionable brown stain he thinks is ketchup; all presumably from whatever depths of your drawer he can see you hunched over, searching for something that remains stubbornly elusive. The offensive projectile whizzes past his shoulder and lands on the polished wooden floor with a thud.
Satoru stands at the doorway to your bedroom, having bypassed the living room and hallway that leads to the kitchen in favour of pressing heated kisses to your cheeks and collarbones. He watches you, bemused. A few weeks ago, he might’ve laughed at your frazzled state with derision. Now, he still wants to laugh, but more in an affectionate way.
You turn around swiftly, nearly tripping on a stray stocking on the floor, and he bites back a smile when you mumble a string of curse words under your breath. 
“Hi,” you say, breathing heavily. “I’m really sorry.”
Then you slam the door shut on his face.
Well, Satoru thinks. This is the first time a girl’s closed the door when I’m in her apartment.
Faced with nothing else to do except wait for your arrival, he drops the Tic Tac box on the floor, hangs your jacket and beanie on the back of the sofa, and almost stubs his toe on the corner of the notebook.
Wincing at the close call, Satoru glares at the book like it’s the cause of all his troubles. DIARY, it reads, embossed in ornate gold letters. The cover is a rich shade of red, rough and leather-bound. He picks it up; it’s rather heavy, and judging by the frayed corners and the random bits of paper poking out of the sides, it seems to be quite old too. Regardless, it is well-cherished—he knows this because he knows you, and you’re the kind of person who wears your heart on your sleeve.
Which is why he knows opening it is a bad idea. 
Satoru shrugs and places the book on the coffee table, taking a seat on the plush, olive green sofa opposite it. He leans his elbows on his knees and interlaces his fingers under his chin. From the inside of your room, he can hear muffled screaming—should he be worried? The screaming stops. Satoru lets his tense shoulders relax.
His eyes zero in on your diary once more. He shouldn’t open it—he really, really shouldn’t. It would be a horrible breach of your privacy. Your trust in him would be broken forever, and even if he somehow manages to win it back, it will always be a stain in the fabric of your still-developing relationship.
But.
One tiny peek can’t hurt, right? He’s only waiting for you to come out of your room, after all. Just one little look, and then he’ll close the book immediately. It can’t possibly hurt. Curiosity is both a blessing and a vice, he figures, and since he’s already stacked up on vices, there is no harm in adding to his karmic points.
So he picks up your diary and flips to a random page, freezing momentarily when he hears an irritated grunt and the sound of something hitting the floor from inside your room. Your handwriting is a lot messier than it usually is; you probably save your best penmanship for official things, and your personal diary is not one of them. That, or you were just frustrated.
12th June
I fucking hate Gojo Satoru. I hope I never have to see him and his stupid handsome obnoxious face EVER AGAIN. I’m so DONE with him.
Satoru’s cheeks prickle with heat. He’s thoroughly invested now. He turns to another page.
14th June
Ran into G.S again today. He spilled coffee all over me what else is new but. he actually apologised!!! Crazy. Maybe he was just in a good mood. Either way, my new blouse is ruined so fuck him.
The strangest thing is that Satoru actually remembers that day vividly. You were wearing a gorgeous cream-coloured blouse, and he was so caught up in staring at you talking animatedly with your supervisor that he zoned out completely and accidentally spilled his coffee on you because he tripped over his shoelaces. Now, knowing that your blouse was new at the time brings up a slight twinge of guilt. He’ll ask you about it later.
22nd June
G.S is actually…… kinda nice? He supported me in the meeting today with the clients when they were being so tiresome. He has a nice smile I guess.
Satoru smiles widely. 
23rd June
Nevermind. I take back everything I said. Gojo Satoru is a prat with zero social skills. I mean, would it kill him to say hello back??? I get that he’s busy but i thought we’d made progress. One thing is for sure. Gojo Satoru is NOT nice. Not even a little bit.
His smile falters.
The next page contains a similar anecdote—something about how he always vehemently disagrees with everything you say, and how despite his good looks he was a complete and utter asshole. Further investigation reveals the same thing: you hate Gojo Satoru with a burning passion.
And… Well, he couldn’t lie and say the feeling wasn’t mutual at one point in time—but it has mellowed down since then, gently and slowly, like a fallen leaf being carried by a soft wind. There came a day where Satoru found himself glaring at you, not with disdain in his eyes, but with a steady thrum in his chest where his heart lay. Later, he would realise that he didn’t hate you—not even a little bit.
He assumed you felt the same way. Why else would your smirks, so full of malice, melt into grins that could light up a whole town? Why else would you agree to go on a date with him when he asked you out, one day, after work, tripping over his words like an elementary schoolboy? Why else would you invite him home and ask him to spend the night?
Of course, it doesn’t explain why you’ve locked yourself up in your bedroom currently (frankly, he’s a bit befuddled about that). But the sentiment must still be there.
It’s a diary, he reasons. 
It’s your diary, his brain screams back, and that’s the real issue here, isn’t it?
Diaries are full of crap, anyway, he thinks to himself.
Diaries contain the Real Thoughts And Emotions of a human being, his brain hollers back.
Mind swirling, Satoru closes the book and places it back on the coffee table, barely aware of his movements. Have you been lying to him? No, there’s absolutely no way—he trusts you far more than that, and besides, what would you even lie to him about? There are no benefits to stringing him along, and you’re not the kind of person who would do something like that, anyway.
You must have had a change of heart, then. That’s the only conclusion he can think of. Your diary entries come to a standstill after 27th June, which means you haven’t opened it in a while. It’s also around the same time you stopped picking fights with each other. Something must have changed by then; Satoru is glad it did.
Satisfied with his deduction, Satoru stuffs his hands in his pockets and crosses his ankles together. Behind your bedroom door, you remain suspiciously silent. He considers knocking on the door once to make sure you’re okay—or if you need any help, because staying put inside your room for over twenty minutes is certainly not normal when you have a guest and potential boyfriend over. 
Almost as if you’ve heard his thoughts, the door to your room swings open. You stand at the doorway, breathing heavily.
“Hey,” Satoru says, quickly standing up. “Everything good?”
You beam at him. “Perfect. Sorry to have kept you waiting, I—”
Your gaze drops to the coffee table, landing on your diary. Satoru keeps his gaze fixed on you. You look back at him, lips parted. 
“Um,” you begin. “It’s— It’s just a diary.”
“Clearly.” Satoru fights back a smile.
You chew your bottom lip nervously. “Did you read it?”
“I did,” he confirms, nodding. “I’m sorry. I was just curious—”
You groan, lifting your hands and covering your face with your palms. “Fuck.”
Satoru reaches out and encircles your wrists with his fingers, gently tugging your hands away from your face. He finds it oddly endearing. “It’s only a diary. I’m sorry I read it. I shouldn’t have.”
“I don’t care about that. You… you probably read all the horrible, mean things I wrote about you.”
“Well,” he says, shrugging a little, “some of the entries were definitely… interesting.”
You blink. Unable to help himself, Satoru drops a light kiss to the tip of your nose.
“I don’t hate you, you know,” you tell him.
“Mhm.”
“I’m serious.”
“Mhm.”
“Satoru.”
“I’ll tell you what I think about your diary later, ‘kay?” he says, hooking his pinkie finger with yours. “Come with me.”
“What? Where?” Confusion paints your features.
Satoru huffs out a laugh. “Just trust me.”
Tumblr media
Satoru places the brand-new diary he’d bought for you on the dining table with a flourish. “D’you have a pen?”
You eye him suspiciously, gaze darting between him and the new, dark green notebook on the table. He grins, carefree and indulgent. Still wary, you hand him a blue ballpoint pen from the pen stand placed above the drawers to the left. He hums and uncaps it.
Flipping open the book to the first page, he bends down and writes slowly.
This book belongs to Gojo Satoru and
Satoru stops writing and holds the pen out expectantly to you. “Here. Write your name.”
Confused, but curious, you oblige. Your name, written in your handwriting, next to his own semi-legible scrawl, makes a warm, affectionate feeling bubble up inside his chest. He wonders what it would look like when both your names are signed next to each other on a marriage certificate. Then, he wonders when and where your wedding would take place. A summer wedding sounds nice, but the sweltering heat might be a bit of a problem. Winter weddings are beautiful for sure, but neither of you is a big fan of the cold.
He’s in the process of thinking of names for your children and pet dog when you break him out of his daze. 
“Hey. What’s all this about, hm?” You nudge his shoulder lightly with yours.
Satoru says, “It’s a diary, but for both of us.”
You glance at him, eyebrows raised questioningly. He swings an arm over your shoulder and draws you closer to him, smiling when flyaway strands of your hair tickle his cheek. 
“In your old diary, it was pretty obvious you, uh, didn’t like me much,” he explains, holding up his free hand when you open your mouth to protest. “I don’t blame you. We were assholes to each other most of the time. But we’ve moved past that. At least, I hope we have.”
Your reply is instantaneous. “Of course. Of course, we have.”
Satoru trails his fingers absent-mindedly over your arm. “Right. And… It’s kind of silly, I guess—I don’t know—but I thought—if we kept a new diary together, one that we could use to document our journey, with both our perspectives in the same place—I thought it would be nice.”
Your mouth parts and you look at him, an indiscernible expression on your face. He shifts from one foot to the other, feeling suddenly nervous. You don’t betray any hint of emotion on your face, but Satoru’s heart hammers inside his chest. What if you think he’s being silly and overly sentimental? What if you find the idea ridiculous?
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he quickly backtracks. “I know we’ve only just moved past the idea of being more than friends, but—” He stops himself.
“But…?” you gently prompt him, twisting around to see him better.
Satoru swallows. “But I can’t imagine not being with you.”
He hears your sharp intake of breath, and in the next moment, the breath is knocked out of his lungs when you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a tight, rib-squeezing hug.  Automatically, his arms circle your waist, and he presses a light, barely-there kiss to the junction of your neck and jaw. 
Eyes shining happily, you pull back slightly with a wide grin on your face. “You’re so hopelessly romantic, it makes my chest hurt.”
“Consider this your trial run. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”
“Don’t you dare.”
He sighs, content. “Okay, I won’t.”
“What should our first diary entry be about?” you ask, loosening your hold on him.
“About how you ditched me inside your house for almost half an hour after you invited me over.” He’s only half-joking.
You look away, embarrassed and sheepish. “I can explain.”
“I’m sure you can.”
“I’m being serious, Satoru.”
“So you’ve said,” he agrees breezily.
“Actually,” you begin, a tad shy, “I was thinking it could be about this—about how you bought us a diary and then kissed me in front of the dining table after we christened the book.”
Satoru’s eyes widen, but before he can get a word in edgewise, your lips are already centimetres away from his. “May I?” you whisper.
“Yeah. ‘Course,” he murmurs back.
The kiss makes him feel dizzy, like he’s had one too many bottles of soda—fizzy and light-headed. Your lips are soft, mouth warm; you taste like chocolate, and he licks into your mouth desperately. His fingers dig into your waist, bunching up the material of your t-shirt, and you run your hand through his hair, tugging gently. He’s kissed you before, of course, but something about this time feels important, a core memory sort of thing. Later that night, he’ll sit beside you on your bed and watch as you write in your shared diary, and he’ll make fun of the way you chew on your pen cap when you’re thinking of what to write next and you’ll shut him up with a kiss.
But for now, he indulges himself whole-heartedly. You let out little gasps which he swallows with his mouth. He tilts his head and kisses you deeper. Only when his lungs are burning does he pull away, and even then, not without a parting peck to the space in between your eyebrows.
“Satoru,” you say, breathless. 
“Yeah?” he responds, unable to tear his gaze off of your kiss-bitten lips.
“I really am sorry about what I wrote about you,” you apologise, looking down once and then back at him. “It’s only a diary—everyone knows diaries are full of crap.”
“I know.” Satoru smiles tenderly. “I’m not mad.”
“You should be. I would be, if I was in your place.”
His eyes dart back to meet yours, and he grimaces. “If you really think about it, I’m the one who should be apologising, not you. I shouldn’t have read your diary, no matter how curious I was.”
“I… don’t really care about that, weirdly enough,” you say thoughtfully. “I was more worried about the fact that you thought I hated you and you were gonna leave me. Not so much about you reading the diary itself.”
“Pfft,” Satoru says, affectionately condescending. “If I left you, where would I go?”
Your mouth parts as you stare at him, dumbfounded. “Jesus. How do you say things like that unironically?”
“I could compose whole sonnets about you and it wouldn’t be enough.”
“That’s ironic, I hope.”
He tilts his head and pulls you close. “Only one way to find out.”
When he captures your lips with his this time, it’s with colliding bodies and biting teeth. He runs his tongue across your bottom lip, and you shudder in his arms, moaning. Somehow, you stumble back into the living room, a mess of tangled limbs.
Briefly pulling away, Satoru sits down on the same sofa he’d occupied earlier and clumsily pulls you onto his lap. You brace your hands on his shoulders for support, lifting your head up when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw.
“Fuck, Satoru,” you gasp, eyes falling shut.
He hums against your skin. “Tell me what you were doing in your room for so long.”
“I was—ah—it’s embarrassing.”
Satoru stops his movements. “I won’t judge you.”
“I know,” you say, teeth worrying your lower lip. “I’ll tell you someday.”
When you purse your lips, ready for him to kiss you again, Satoru lets out a soft laugh. “Sweetheart.”
“What?” 
“I think I need to correct some of your… perceptions of me,” he murmurs, rubbing his hands up and down your back.
You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”
“I’m sorry about your blouse,” he whispers. “You looked really pretty wearing it, you know. Got distracted. Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
“Satoru, I don’t know what you’re talking—” You gasp when he kisses the column of your throat.
“I’m sorry for being obnoxious,” he continues, lowering his head and pressing his lips to the pulse point on your neck. “But I’m not sorry you think I’m handsome.”
“Only your face,” you mutter, but you tug on his hair to get him to tilt his head up. When he does, you kiss him again, your hands warm and placed on the junctions where his neck meets his shoulders. 
“I’ll support you in more than just meetings,” he says, pulling back. His breath ghosts over your lips, prompting a shiver to pass through your body. Your eyes widen when you finally, finally realise what he’s talking about. “I’ll tell those stupid clients to shut up and take it.”
You laugh, bright and happy, and Satoru wants to bottle the sound up greedily. “That sounds kinda wrong,” you say.
He shrugs, his smile turning lopsided. “I’m sorry for ignoring you when you said hi to me. I won’t do it ever again.”
You laugh again, teeth flashing in the warm glow of the living room lights.
There’s an odd feeling in Satoru’s chest—something warm and golden—something he can only describe as being terribly, hopelessly lovesick for you.
He whispers your name again, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Tell me what you were doing in your room for so long.”
You groan again, your previous amusement turning into embarrassment. Your next words are muffled by his shoulder, your lips warm against his clavicle as you mumble something only you can understand.
“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you,” Satoru says mischievously.
 Another sound of mortification.
“I won’t laugh,” he says. “Promise.”
“Underwear,” you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear. “I was searching for a better pair of underwear than the one I had on.”
To his credit, Satoru really doesn’t laugh. It takes a lot of effort, though, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent his giggles from escaping. 
You lean back and narrow your eyes at him. “Oh, go on. I know you’re dying to laugh.”
He shakes his head, cheeks blown out like a pufferfish. You stare at him quietly.
Minutes later, he exhales shakily. “See? I didn’t laugh. I’m a nice guy.”
His lips find yours again, slower and more languorous this time. After all, he has all the time in the world now—to hold you like this, kiss you gently—and he plans to cherish each second. Your tongue swipes his lower lip, and he parts his mouth willingly. He feels like putty underneath you, as he uses one of his hands to cup your face and deepen the kiss. Your lips move against his, already familiar, but he could never stop craving it.
When you pull back to breathe, your eyes are wide and your lips are swollen—a fact that Satoru notes with pride.
“Nice boys don’t kiss like that,” you breathe out.
“Oh, yes, they fucking do.”
Tumblr media
490 notes · View notes
mywritersmind · 2 days ago
Text
WE’RE LIVE. - LN4
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary : he tries to kiss you on camera, just some bits of you two at the f1 live event with cute couple vibes.
listen up : i kinda hate this. short but cute!
words : 730
⋆。‧˚⋆
“I’m reporting live from the first annual F1 launch event! I’m so excited to be interviewing and speaking to all of your favorite drivers and influences in the sport!” My smile is award winning, my posture straight, and my dress perfectly fitting my body.
I’m so distracted by Lewis Hamilton arriving that I don’t even see the bomb running up to me. I’m met with Lando Norris’ smiling face, coming straight for me.
He’s coming straight for a kiss I realize and dodge him immediately. His lips collide with my cheek as a small laugh breaks out of me, “Norris!” I eye him, his eyes a bit dimmer after my block, “We’re live!” My words slip out as his eyes widen.
In a second, his confused face turns to a masked smile, “And I'm so glad we are!” His eyes catch mine again, making me smile softly. He looks good, like really good.
In a suit, his shirt unbuttoned, and his hair perfectly curled, he looks like a disney prince. One that’s smiling at me in that slow easy way he does.
“You got questions for me, little miss reporter, or are you just gonna stare?” He’s such an idiot for saying that live, the media will eat him alive, but I'll kiss him until he can’t breathe so he’ll ignore it.
“I would say I'm surprised you’re here but we all know you love an opportunity to dress up.” I hold my microphone tight in my hand.
He tilts it towards him to answer, “Well, I heard you were gonna be here and had to look my best.” Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. It makes me smile anyway.
“Stop flirting with the reporter, Lando!” A voice calls out from the red carpet, we both turn to see Lando’s other half and his girlfriend.
Oscar Piastri is quiet, but never around us.
Lando tries to lean into me but I push him away gently, “You want me to ask you the real questions or would you like to greet your twin?”
He turns back to me, his hands in his pockets, “I’d like to keep talking to you.”
⋆༺
He finds me again in the hallway. I've been searching for the entrance after going to the restroom and getting completely lost.
“You look edible.” Is what the romantic and heartthrob, Lando Norris, says to me just as his hand meets my waist and he pulls me in.
“That is not earning you a kiss.” I put my hand on his chest as that same cheeky grin arrives.
He pulls me in a bit tighter, whispering in my ear, “You look fucking beautiful, Y/n. You always do.” That, earns him a kiss.
He pulls away which doesn’t happen often, “I can’t believe you dodged me earlier!” I laugh and push him away, walking ahead as I hear his dress shoes on the tile. “Can’t a guy kiss his girlfriend on live television?”
“Can’t a girl do her job and not get fired?” I look at him and am not at all surprised when I see his soft smile and stunning eyes shimmer.
“I love you.” He slips his hand into mine in such a soft and honest way that it makes me blush. “I love that you love your job and I love that you get to be here with me and I really love that dress on you.”
I roll my eyes at the last bit as if I don’t know he’s going to be the one taking it off of me tonight. “I love you too. Even if I have to be surrounded by orange every day of my life-”
He scoffs, “Hey! It’s-”
“If you say papaya I might slap you.”
“Can’t mess up my face before I go on stage love…” there’s a glint in his eye now, “But you can mark me all you’d like later.”
I kiss him again. Because we’re alone and because I truly love this complete fool of a man.
“Go change, Papaya man.” I drop his hand when I see the entrance, “But make sure to come home in that suit.” I wink as he raises a brow.
He doesn’t let me go until he kisses me one last time, just outside the doors to his whole world, and perfectly private for us.
854 notes · View notes
salemlunaa · 1 day ago
Text
𖥸∘˚YOU ARE MORE POWERFUL THAN YOU KNOW𖥸˚∘
don’t force it, just let go.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
There are people who go to sleep in one bedroom apartments and wake up in mansions. There are people who go to sleep with a body or face they hate and wake up with new ones. There are people who go to sleep hating their school life, family and friends and wake up with all of that changed. There are people who go to sleep living a life they dread and wake up with their dreams. Why not you.
You are so much more powerful than you know. You are the operant power of this reality and all the other realities. As I once said, these realities are your children, they are of the same relation to you and the same proximity. It is you running through their veins. You aren’t doing this extravagant thing by creating and shifting timelines to a new reality, you are taking your awareness and placing it in a reality that already exists.
You can leave anytime you want. In fact, top panicking and realise you’ve already left. A lot of you promised to yourselves that you would get your dream life over the break, over the weekend, over night and you panic when you don’t see anything. How many times will you do this? Stop the panic, the outerman isn’t you and sees nothing but limitations. There’s nothing to panic over because it is done and there’s nothing left to do. You wouldn’t be panicked about a cruise trip if you were there.
The words “OMG school starts on monday and i STILL haven’t been on my cruise trip, im so upset i feel like a loser” wouldn’t be uttered if you’re already on the cruise, sipping one of those cute drinks with the tiny hats. So stop panicking about wasted time when you’re already there and there’s nothing to do. Don’t get worked up over nothing, the 3d isn’t real.
All you need to do to induce pure consciousness is focus on the darkness in your eyes, set an intention to induce the state of “I AM” and make up scenarios, count, sing in your head. do whatever. Forget yourself, stop trying to relax, stop forcing it, stop looking for symptoms stop trying to immerse yourself in the feeling and let it happen naturally. You don’t force yourself into the state of awake and asleep so why is it any different with pure consciousness.
∘˚ 𓆸∘˚
Think of yourself being in a pool, there’s two of you. One version of yourself is being let down gently into the water and the other version of yourself is letting you down. Think of a baptism type of position. When you are fully immersed in the water you are pure consciousness, and you will come out of the water as your desired self. But what you must do is let it happen naturally. You can’t push yourself underwater. You can’t drown yourself or the water won’t accept you.
Let yourself down gently. Stop trying to force yourself into pure consciousness, stop forcing the immersion or it won’t accept you. Like how if you force yourself into the state sleep you’ll just sit in bed eyes shut waiting to it to happen. It isn’t until you let go and finally give up trying that you eventually fall into the state of sleep. That’s it. Give up, give up trying and let go. Assume you’re in the water already and before you know it you’re fully immersed in that body of water.
When we say falling into the state of pure consciousness is as easy as breathing, we’re not just trying to motivate you are trick your minds into thinking it’s easy as a form of help. It’s the truth. It’s a state, that’s all it is, just as is sleep and being awake right now, think of how effortless it is to fall into between sleep and wake. That’s all pure consciousness is. Failure to do this does not exist.
You can leave anytime you want and within an instant. Assume you have mastered this simple yet beautiful art and you will have, assume you’re there already and you will be. It takes a second to flip your thoughts and begin. You don’t need a routine or a days worth of affirming or any challenge. If you believe that is a must, you don’t understand what this is.
Go, simply because you can.
YOU CAN do this, why not now? Don’t let your fear of failing and “letting yourself down” allow you to procrastinate, failure doesn’t exist.
YOU ARE YOUR ONLY BLOCKAGE, CHANGE THAT AND LET YOURSELF GO
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
621 notes · View notes
pomefioredove · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Love 101
my week-late valentine's post
summary: third years ask first years for love advice. the first years suck at giving it type of post: blurbs characters: cater, trey, leona, rook, vil, idia, lilia, malleus, rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
Tumblr media
I. Cater and Deuce
Cater has always loved the thrill of the chase (or, really, the thrill of stalking your magicam at 2am) and he would have been content with keeping his digital distance if he didn't see you in Vil's last post. Suddenly anxious that he's fumbling, he does what he does best: info. And who would have better info than your best friend? "Uhhh, I dunno," Deuce says. "If you really like someone, then you should be honest with them- that's what my mom used to tell me, at least. Or did I read that somewhere? Uh, never mind. I'm sure the Prefect will understand! Just- you better treat them right, or else!" Be honest? When has honesty ever helped Cater? It'd take two more nights of crushing anxiety for him to send a risky text, spilling all of his feelings for you in a Magicam DM and then handing his phone over to a very confused (but pleased?) Riddle, so he won't check his notifs for your username every twelve seconds...
II. Trey and Ace
Trust me, he was not Trey's go-to. Okay, sure, Ace is your best friend. Sure, he knows everything about you, from your favorite desserts to your grades, and sure, you've probably told him everything about your dream man, but... It's Ace. And unlike darling, doe-eyed Deuce, if someone asked too much about you, Ace would get suspicious and go right into protective best friend mode. So, Trey keeps it vague. "Eh? You're asking me for dating advice?" Ace grins. "About time! I knew you were smart. What you're gonna do is give 'em a little, not too much. Maybe ghost 'em for a week or two, so they'll really miss you when you finally text back!" ...Yeah. Maybe Trey should just stick to desserts.
III. Leona and Jack
Listen, okay, Leona didn't want to ask him, either. But Ruggie had nothing, your other frosh friends couldn't flirt their way out of a paper bag, and Grim refused to give Leona the goods without tuna payments (and he's spoiled enough as it is). Of course, the moment Leona even implied he was thinking of you, Jack jumped. "You have to be direct and honest! This could be your life partner, you have to put your all in!" Right, sure. Why does he even bother with these kids?? You'd be turned off if Leona started spilling his guts like that. He would've given up then and there... but then Jack insisted he come to "support his upperclassman", as if it were a fight rather than a flirtation. Leona cursed the Seven, the stars, and every single student on campus as he stumbled his way through asking you out. "Not that you would, or that I care, but I-" he looks over his shoulder, and Jack is still there, arms crossed like an impatient parent. Leona grumbles. "If you want to..." "He wants to please you, Prefect!" Jack barks. "DON'T SAY IT LIKE THAT!"
IV. Vil, Rook, and Epel
It wasn't like Vil sought out Epel for the sole purpose of you, the freshman simply... happened to be in the room while Vil was thinking about it! Out loud! With Rook! In a... slightly argumentative manner! "Epel, settle something for us, would you?" "Oui, you see, I say the way to win the Prefect's favor is by anticipating their every thought!" "And I say that's insane. You know them best, so, tell us, what do they like?" The poor boy looks between them like he's being held at gunpoint. How should he have known?? It's not like you guys spent your time gabbing about boys! "APPLES!" he blurts out. "The Prefect loves apples!! My grandma always said the quickest way to a person's heart is through their stomach!" Rook giggles and Vil mumbles something about Epel's peanut-sized brain. ...Nonetheless, you wake up to crates full of apples at your door the next morning.
V. Idia and Ortho
beeeeeep... beeep... bing! Idia swivels around in his chair at the sound of the printer. Crap, did he accidentally hit print page again? What a waste of ink- that stuff's not cheap, you know! But it's just... Ortho. "Here ya go, big bro! I thought you might need this!" Idia cautiously takes the warm paper, entitled Romance Intel 101. "Uh... Ortho. Why are you giving me this? You know I max out the romance stats in all my games EZ," Ortho giggles. "It's not for a game, it's for the Prefect! Based on the data I've gathered, your heart rate accelerates by 1.2 seconds, and your pupils dilate by 40% when thinking of, or speaking to the Prefect!" Idia turns pink and crumples, as if he were the paper (the first line of which, BTW, reading "step one- make eye contact!") This is going to be a looooong school year...
VI. Lilia and Grim
You probably should've been suspicious when Lilia popped into Ramshackle and offered to babysit Grim for an afternoon, but you weren't- not with assignments due, at least. You said your goodbyes, and as soon as you were out the splintered door, Lilia spun on his heels. Short as he is, he towers over the little direbeast. "Hm, seems like we have time to spare. How about a casual conversation? Yes? Good! So, how do the youngsters these days go about showing their affections? I would like to make my feelings for a certain someone known, but I'm terribly out of practice." Grim thinks for a moment, and then: "Tuna. Looots of tuna. Heaps of it! It's all the rage!" Lilia nods sagely. "Ah, yes, I understand completely. There was a rotisserie chicken fad a few centuries ago... er, so I've read. Isn't love wonderful!" You come home from the library to an unconscious, drooling, but very happy Grim, and Lilia sitting atop a mountain of empty tuna cans and beaming. "Darling! You're back!"
VII. Malleus and Sebek
It had always been Sebek's honor and duty to serve the heir prince of Briar Valley, whether in war or in love. When Malleus wistfully said he wished to know you better, Sebek saw to it. That is, he spent the entire weekend shadowing you. And not subtly- he was never more than a few steps behind, pen and paper in hand. When you asked what in the world he was doing, he- "OBSERVING! NOW, QUIET! BEHAVE AS USUAL!" "You don't have to shout, you're right behind me. And observing what, Sebek?" "NONE OF YOUR CONCERN! ACT AS IF I AM NOT HERE!" At the end of the weekend, Sebek returned to Malleus' throne with a report that titled you "inquisitive, dense, and apparently hard-of-hearing."
VIII. Rollo and You
Your friends had seemed wary when Rollo asked you on a walk with him, though he promised he wouldn't take you too far from their clutches care. You had been in Fleur City for days and he didn't know a single thing about you, other than that you were magicless and pitiful. You were so often spoken over, interrupted, and dismissed, it took Rollo a strenuous amount of grace not to grab you by the wrist and drag you away from your rude, contemptuous classmates himself... He couldn't word the feeling. And he was hoping you could. "So," he says, "They refer to you as Prefect. That is your role? Do you enjoy it?" You shrug. Has being at that terrible school rendered you unfit for social interaction? "Very well. Then what do you do for... fun? You appeared to enjoy seeing the city. Are you interested in history?" You shrug again. How can he be expected to know you if you won't tell him anything?? Rollo decides that words are worthless, and his eyes land on your hands. His own fingers twitch and tingle in anticipation, and for a brief but terrifying moment, he thinks of reaching out to you. ...In the end, he can't will himself to do it. Maybe in another life.
636 notes · View notes
goldfades · 2 days ago
Note
could u write joe burrow and a young gf :3
ouuuu i lowkey love this!!! i forget joe is literally almost 30 sometimes cause he's been my baby since 2020 :(
Tumblr media
The thing about loving Joe Burrow is that it never quite feels real.
Not in the way people would assume—Oh my God, you’re dating Joe Burrow—but in the quieter, trickier ways. Like how surreal it is to be brushing your teeth while he’s flopped across the bed scrolling through film, mumbling something about coverages.
Or how it feels when his name echoes from TV screens and sports talk shows, but the same voice that commands huddles and stadiums turns soft when he asks, “You good, babe?” after long days.
It started somewhere simple. It always does.
Before all the noise, before the headlines, before the whispers about her being too young or him settling down so soon. You were just you, balancing college classes and internships, while he was—well, Joe Burrow. Quarterback. Face of a franchise. The golden boy with ice in his veins and Ohio stitched into his heart.
The age thing? People love to talk.
"She's barely legal," Twitter said. "He's almost thirty—what could they possibly have in common?"
But nobody saw late nights where he quizzed you for exams between reps of watching film. No one heard him tease you about your Starbucks order or watched the way his whole face softened when you walked into a room.
You weren’t high school sweethearts or some college love story. You met after his star had already risen. He was 26 then, fresh off another playoff run. You were 20, still figuring out your major and how to parallel park. It wasn’t supposed to be anything. But somehow, between weekend flights to Cincinnati, cheap takeout, and late-night phone calls that stretched till sunrise, it became everything.
Now?
Now, he’s 28. And you’re counting down the weeks until your 22nd birthday.
It’s different now. The stakes are higher. His window is now, and yours is still unfolding. People don’t get that. They think he should be with someone who has it all figured out. Someone closer to his stage in life. But Joe? Joe never seemed interested in the version of you that had all the answers.
He likes you exactly as you are.
And maybe that’s what makes this all so dangerous. Because you love him like you have all the time in the world. But what if you don’t?
What if time, distance, and expectations catch up?
The thing about loving Joe Burrow is that it never feels real.
And maybe that’s what scares you the most.
It started in the most unremarkable way, which, in hindsight, made it all the more impossible.
You weren’t supposed to be there that night.
It was late spring—warm air clinging to skin, cicadas humming like background noise. A friend dragged you out, promising “something low-key” that turned out to be anything but. A rooftop bar downtown, lights strung across beams, music low enough for conversation but loud enough to fill silences. The kind of place where everyone seemed to know someone.
You felt out of place almost immediately—twenty, still figuring things out, surrounded by people who seemed to have their lives together. People with jobs, plans, confidence. You clutched your drink like a lifeline, nodding along to conversations you weren’t part of.
And then—him.
Joe Burrow.
You knew of him, obviously. Everyone did. The city’s golden boy. LSU’s champion turned Cincinnati’s hope. The one with the calm stare and colder game. But seeing him there, in a soft gray hoodie and jeans that looked too casual for someone like him, was jarring.
He wasn’t surrounded by a crowd like you expected. No loud entourage, no flashy bravado. Just him, leaning against the railing, a glass of something in his hand, looking out at the skyline like he wasn’t the biggest deal in the room.
You tried not to stare. Failed miserably.
And he caught you.
But here’s the thing—you looked away first. You didn’t smile or wave or give him that Oh my God, it’s Joe Burrow look he was probably used to. You just turned back to your group, back to your half-finished drink, back to your uncomfortable corner.
But he noticed.
It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. Just a glance. A flicker of interest, easily forgotten. But when you shifted places an hour later, needing air and space, there he was—somehow always there. Close enough to talk to, if you were brave enough.
You weren’t.
He was.
"Not your scene?"
His voice caught you off guard—low, almost shy. He wasn’t cocky about it, didn’t lead with who he was. Just a simple question. You glanced over, squinting against the fading light.
"Not really," you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yours?"
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Not really."
And that was it. A conversation that began with mutual disinterest in the place you both stood.
No cheesy pickup lines. No starstruck reactions. Just two people, sharing a quiet pocket of space in a loud world.
It started slow after that.
Joe wasn’t the type to rush things. He didn’t blow up your phone the next day. There were no grand gestures. Just texts that came at odd hours—memes, random thoughts, “this reminded me of you” photos. Late-night conversations that started light and ended heavy.
"What do you wanna do after school?" "Not sure yet. Still figuring it out." "That’s cool. You got time."
And he meant it.
He liked listening. That was the first thing you noticed. Everyone assumed he’d be the one with stories to tell, but Joe preferred hearing yours. He wanted to know about your classes, your friends, your opinions on movies you half-watched.
He didn’t treat you like you were younger. He didn’t make you feel like you had something to prove.
And maybe that’s why you fell for him first.
Not that you said it. Not for a while.
You didn’t know it, but Joe liked that you didn’t treat him like Joe Burrow. You talked to him like he was just a guy—messy, complicated, figuring things out. And he wanted that.
For months, things stayed undefined. Texts. Calls. Occasional meetups when he was in the neighborhood. You told yourself it wasn’t serious. Couldn’t be. He had an NFL career; you had classes and part-time jobs.
But then came that night.
It was after a tough loss—one of those games where the city buzzed with disappointment. You shot him a simple text: “Tough one. Hope you’re good.”
Didn’t expect a reply. But he did.
"Come over?"
It wasn’t a question. And when you showed up, hair still damp from a rushed shower, no makeup, heart racing—he looked at you like you were the best thing he’d seen all week.
"You’re here," he said softly, like he didn’t quite believe it.
"Of course I am."
That night, there were no cameras, no expectations. Just Joe—quiet, vulnerable—and you, sitting beside him on a worn-out couch.
He kissed you first.
Soft, tentative, like he wasn’t sure if he should. Like he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t.
You never wanted to.
So how have you lasted this long?
Patience.
It wasn’t always easy. The age gap made things complicated. He was settling into his prime years—face of a franchise, pressure mounting. You were still growing, still becoming.
But Joe never expected you to catch up. He let you take your time. He liked that you weren’t rushing.
You learned his rhythms—when he needed space, when he needed reassurance. He learned your moods—when you were overwhelmed, when you needed grounding.
You made room for each other.
Not because it was easy. But because it mattered.
And somehow, almost two years later, here you still are.
Joe’s turning 28. You’re on the edge of 22.
Everyone still talks. But neither of you have ever cared much about what they say.
--
The apartment was quiet in that late-afternoon, honey-gold kind of way. The kind of light that stretched long shadows across hardwood floors and made everything feel softer, slower. The game was on mute—highlights from last week’s win looping on ESPN—while you sat cross-legged on the couch, flipping through your laptop.
Joe was in the kitchen, barefoot, wearing a faded Ohio State tee and gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was still damp from a shower, curling slightly at the edges. He moved with that same unhurried calm he always had off the field, focused on slicing up an apple with alarming precision for someone who could launch a 60-yard pass without blinking.
"You want some?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
"No thanks," you mumbled, eyes still on the screen.
"Liar," he said, grinning. "You’re gonna steal a piece anyway."
He wasn’t wrong.
Joe crossed the room, dropping onto the couch beside you with a quiet oof. The plate balanced on his knee, and sure enough, when he popped a slice into his mouth, he held another out for you without looking.
"Told you," he muttered around a bite.
"Whatever," you said, accepting it anyway.
This was what you two were like—easy.
No big gestures or loud declarations. Just knowing. He knew you’d take the apple slice even when you said you wouldn’t. You knew he’d watch you more than the TV. The spaces between you were always filled with things left unsaid but understood.
"Whatcha working on?" he asked after a moment, nodding toward your laptop.
"Paper. Boring. You wouldn’t care."
"I always care," he said, leaning back. His arm stretched along the back of the couch, fingers brushing your shoulder lightly. "Tell me."
You gave him a look, skeptical.
"You literally fell asleep last time I explained this class to you."
"Nah," he grinned, slow and lazy. "Just resting my eyes. You were doing great."
"Uh-huh."
Joe bumped your knee with his. "Tell me."
So you did. Stumbling through half-formed thoughts about your topic, tapping at the trackpad, rambling. You knew you were probably losing him—this wasn’t exactly thrilling stuff—but Joe kept his gaze steady on you. Not nodding along just to be polite. Actually listening.
That’s what always got you. He listened.
Even when he didn’t get it, even when he was tired or distracted—he paid attention because it was you.
When you finally trailed off with a shrug, mumbling, "See? Boring," Joe shook his head.
"Nah," he said. "You sound smart when you talk about stuff you like."
You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed.
"I always sound smart," you shot back.
"Yeah," he said, grinning wider. "But especially when you’re like this. Focused. All serious."
He reached over, tugging gently at the sleeve of your sweatshirt. "Cute, too."
"Shut up."
"Make me."
You shoved him, and he laughed, warm and low, catching your wrist with a loose grip. Not tight—never tight—just enough to pull you closer until you were half in his lap.
"Say it again," you teased, narrowing your eyes. "Say I sound smart."
Joe’s eyes sparkled with something playful, something soft.
"You sound smart," he murmured, voice dropping.
His thumb brushed slow circles against the inside of your wrist. His gaze flicked down to your mouth, then back up.
"And cute," he added, softer this time.
Your breath hitched, and suddenly the space between you wasn’t so wide anymore.
Joe always did that—brought things back to the quiet. He had this way of looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. Like all the noise—fans, games, expectations—didn’t matter. Just you.
"You gonna kiss me or keep talking?" you whispered.
He didn’t smile this time. Just leaned in, closing the gap, slow and sure.
The kiss wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t some movie-scene, fireworks kind of thing. It was steady. Familiar. Warm. The kind of kiss that said, I know you. I’ve got you.
When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. Neither of you said anything for a beat.
Then—
"Told you I’d make you forget about that boring paper."
"You’re the worst."
"Mm. But you love me."
"Unfortunately."
He grinned. "Lucky me."
And that was it. That was you two.
Not always perfect. Not always poetic. But steady.
Because at the end of the day, loving Joe Burrow wasn’t about the headlines or the spotlight. It was this—apples shared on a quiet afternoon, lazy kisses between conversations, and the unshakable certainty that when the world got loud again, you’d both still be right here.
Tumblr media
478 notes · View notes
norrisainz33 · 3 days ago
Text
f175 || ls18
☆ summary: you and lance attend the f175 event
☆ pairing: lance stroll x reader
☆ fc & warnings: dua lipa and suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume
☆ requested: yes!!! thank you for the request 🫶🏻
masterlist
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
ynuser has posted to their story
Tumblr media Tumblr media
view all story replies
user1: effortlessly gorgeous
chloestroll: pretty princess
ynuser: i wish you were here 😫
chloestroll: i’ll see you soon bb 😘
user2: OHMGMEKGKOEY ARE YOU GOING TO F175?!
astonmartinf1: can’t wait to see you tonight 💚
ynuser: promise to only get my good side in photos?
astonmartinf1: you don’t have a bad side y/n!
lance_stroll: that’s my beautiful girl 😘
ynuser: my handsome man!!! i can’t wait to see you in your suit 🤤😍
lance_stroll: and i can’t wait to see you in that dress and also….. out of it 😏
ynuser: could always see the second in your fancy dressing room at the O2
lance_stroll: don’t tempt me
ynuser: but what if i want to 🤨
lance_stroll: then by all means
user3: ho is you an angel
user4: watching the red carpet of that weird event for you and you only
ynuser has posted to their story
Tumblr media Tumblr media
view all story replies
user6: stunning!!!!!!!!
fernandoalo_oficial: sorry for stealing your man 😉
ynuser: i’ll forgive you but only this time!!
fernandoalo_oficial: lawrence is the better chauffeur anyway 😏
ynuser: hahaha i’ll tell him you said that
user9: no bc you’re gonna mog everyone so hard on that red carpet idk why anyone else is even bothering to show up
lance_stroll: goodness gracious you are stunning
ynuser: thank you babyyyyy!!
lance_stroll: i wish they would let me ride with you instead
ynuser: i know sweetheart but this evening is for you and nando to show off!!!
lance_stroll: and you know i hate it… these sorts of things make me so anxious
ynuser: i know baby but lawrence and i will be right behind you! you’ll only have to be without me for a few short minutes
flavy_barla: i’m going to start drooling
ynuser: thanks for helping me pick the outfit out baby girl
flavy.barla: happy to darling 🤍
user10: not them sending you in the safety car but ig they gotta keep the people’s princess safe huh
chanelofficial: beautiful! we are so glad you trusted us to make your outfit for this evening 🤍
ynuser: and thank YOU for the perfect outfit 🫶🏻
user11: is it wrong to say i’m more excited to see you than the liveries
Tumblr media Tumblr media
peoplemagazine has made a post
Tumblr media
liked by astonmartinf1, yourbff, alexandrasaintmleux, user12, user18, and 78,356 others
peoplemagazine: we had the pleasure of talking with y/n y/l/n and lance stroll tonight at f175. y/n talked about how excited she is for this season: “theres just so much to look forward to! lance and the entire aston martin team have worked so hard over the break and i am really looking forward to seeing that work pay off. i am so incredibly lucky to get to have a front row seat for all of this - from learning about the car back at the factory to supporting the love of my life in making his dreams come true - i am just so lucky.”
view all comments
user12: is someone cutting onions
user13: petition to make y/n the head of strookie nation
user99: Y E S
user23: petition signed. i want mother to represent us
ynuser: i’ve been summoned and i love that we’re calling ourselves strookies. i’m so in
user13: asdfghjkl she’s ONE OF US
user14: why is that so sweet i’m sick
yourbff: people magazine?! oh ynuser you’re famous famous
ynuser: dream come true for real
user15: the way y/n talks about all the people back at the factory so fondly 😭🫶🏻
user18: most supportive and kind partner award goes to y/n fr
ynuser has posted to their private story
Tumblr media
view all story replies
yourbff: y/n/n this is unhinged
ynuser: i stand with my cancelled wife (myself)
lilymhe: screaming how much champagne did they give you
ynuser: not enough honestly. this was all organic
lilymhe: never change y/n/n
lance_stroll: not the sirens and the gun shots
ynuser: the helmet and the suit have done something unspeakable to me
lance_stroll: noted 😏
ynuser: you know what tate said about sports cars….. i’ve been thinking…..
lance_stroll: y/n i’ve told you this! there is no way we can both fit in my f1 car
ynuser: one day i’ll get you to say yes to this proposition just wait lancey
lance_stroll: whatever you say princess
estebanocon: i watched you giggle and post this from 2 tables away
ynuser: you saw nothing pls 😔
alexandrasaintmleux: mon ami stand up
ynuser: i can’t 🧎🏻‍♀️
chloestroll: i’m gonna scroll now….
ynuser: yeah that’s fair
yourfriend1: and this is valid af
ynuser: THANK YOU!!
ynuser has made a post
Tumblr media
liked by lance_stroll, boss, chanelofficial, alexandrasaintmleux, chloestroll and 453,234 others
ynuser: the amr25 is almost as hot as lance 😍🤤 thanks for an incredible night f1 and to my ladies at chanelofficial for dressing me!
view all comments
user18: the head of strookie nation has spoken 🗣️
astonmartinf1: she is a beauty 😉
ynuser: you got that right admin
user22: aston had the best reveal hands down
chloestroll: *almost as hot as you
ynuser: *almost as hot as YOU
user24: now let’s pray that she’s also fast 🤞🏻
lance_stroll: you flatter me
ynuser: just spitting facts!
estebanocon: simping on main now too??
flavy.barla: at least this was tamer
yourbff: definitely could’ve been worse
ynuser: guys please
user32: 👀
user33: you are so real for this y/n/n
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: sooo happy to be getting all these lance requests 😭😫 likes and reblogs appreciated!! thanks for reading 🤍
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
440 notes · View notes
withwritersblock · 3 days ago
Text
More Hearts Than Mine-His Brother Interrupts Their Vacation
~More Hearts Than Mine by Ingrid Andress~ Author's Note: Not requested but have had this idea for a while and since the 4 nations tournament has concluded (Mackinnon mvp hell yeah) anyways enjoy :) Summary: Quinn crashes Luke's romantic getaway to the lakehouse Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 4,502 Luke Hughes x fm!reader
Tumblr media
She sat in the passenger seat staring outside the window, seeing it snow slightly on the ground. There was soft country music playing in the car, Luke was humming along to the song as he was running his hand along her thigh in a slow teasing manner.
“You know, Lu, most NHL players travel somewhere tropical during breaks like this,” she offered as she rested her hand on top of his hand. He chuckled while shaking his head. 
“You only had four days, so my love, we got an easy getaway to the lake house–in the snow,” he explained while squeezing her thigh for a second. “After you graduate, we can take a trip to any island you want,” he explained, glancing towards her. Their eyes connected for a second as she smiled softly.
“I’m just messing with you,” she said as she interlocked their fingers, “I’m happy to get away from our life for a few days,” she explained. Luke raised their interlocked hands towards his face, he pressed a delicate kiss to the back of her hand. 
“It’ll be fun, we have the hottub and the fireplace and all the cuddling in the world,” he offered softly. He stopped at a stop sign and turned right down the road to lead towards the lake house.
“It’s snowing outside and you want to go in the hottub?” she asked while giggling. He tossed his head back.
“You brought your swimsuit, didn’t you?” he asked while laughing. She rolled her eyes dramatically. “It’s like the best way to be in a hottub,” he explained as he looked towards her for a moment. 
They sat quietly for a few seconds as he continued to drive cautiously down the street in the snow. It wasn’t heavy but it was still enough for him to be extra careful while driving. 
“How’s Jack settling in?” she asked.
“He said it’s been fun so far. He wishes Quinn was there but what can you do,” he explained while shaking his head slightly. 
“Have you spoken to him?” 
“Texted a little, he’s been in a mood with everything he’s dealing with,” he explained, “I didn’t want to make it worse,”
Her lips fell into a small pout, “Like you could ever make anything worse,” she offered quietly. He smiled softly as he turned into the driveway of the house. Swiftly, putting the rental car into park. Quickly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted his body towards her.
“I’ll give him a call later today,” he mumbled as he tilted his head against the headrest. She smiled towards him as she unbuckled her own seatbelt and reached towards him. Y/N rested her hand against his cheek, rubbing her thumb against the apple of his cheek.
“Good,” she mumbled as she leaned towards him, pressing her lips against his for a few seconds. 
“Ready?” he asked quietly. She nodded before pecking his lips one more time before she reached towards the passenger door. Luke grinned as he followed in pursuit. He jogged towards the backseat and pulled out the one shared suitcase they had brought. They were only planning on going into town once or twice while they were here. 
Luke’s plans didn’t really include clothes but she forced him to birng enough for the days that they were at the lake house. 
“Here, baby,” Luke let out as he held up the keys in his hand. She nodded as he tossed the keys towards her. She caught it effortlessly as she cautiously walked towards the front door towards the lakehouse. Luke took the suitcase from the backseat and kept it in the air as he slammed the door shut. He kept his car keys in his hand as he locked the car and followed after her. 
She was already inside, it was so cold outside she didn’t want to stay outside any longer than she had to. Luke dropped the suitcase to the ground for only a second as he pushed open the door. He stepped inside, letting out a sudden huff of air as he rested the suitcase near the door.
“Lukey?” she called out. He hummed as a reply while he twisted the lock on the door. “Where’s the bathroom again? I want to shower the airport smell off of my body,” she mumbled as she stepped out of the kitchen area. 
Luke bit his bottom lip as he fought off a grin. He kicked his shoes off as he began to walk towards her. “Come on, I’ll show you,” he said as he held out his hand towards her. She rolled her eyes playfully as she rested her hand into his. He led the charge as a giggle fell from her lips.
“You’ll show me?” she asked teasingly. He spun around as he began to walk backwards, he nodded slowly. She smirked as she watched him awkwardly bump into the closed door of the bathroom. He gasped as a chuckle fell from his lips. 
Quickly, he pushed the door open. Luke pulled her inside as she giggled again. He kicked the door shut behind them. Reaching towards her waist, he pressed her body against the countertop. Her hands rested on the base of his neck before he leaned towards her desperately kissing her lips. 
She hummed against his lips as he toyed with the ends of her hoodie covering her frame. She parted her lips, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth. He kept the pace slow for a while, his hands running along her sides, slowly. 
Y/N took a hold of his hoodie, tugging it high off of his frame. He stepped back, taking the ends of his hoodie. Quickly, he pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor. She followed in pursuit and took a hold of her own hoodie and tossed it to the floor. 
A smirk formed to his lips before he leaned towards her again. Luke rested his hands on either side of the countertop as he pressed his lips against hers urgently. Delicately, she ran her hands down his chest. Letting her hands glide along each curve of his muscles. 
He began to toy with her waistband of her sweatpants. Slowly, he began to tug them off of her frame. She sped up the process, kicking the sweats away from her frame. He smirked as his hands glided along the exposed skin of her hips.
“Come on, baby,” he muttered as he pulled her towards the shower. They both quickly pulled off the rest of their clothes, giggles falling from each of their lips. He turned on the shower quickly, it was almost instant that the hot water began to pour out. He guided her into the shower, their lips connecting instantly.
After a few seconds, she tilted her head back, letting the water hit her face. Luke instantly pressed his lips against the center of her neck. Her hands glided along his upper back as he pressed her back against the wall of the shower. A gasp left her lips as the cold wall sent a shock to her frame. He smirked as he trailed his lips up her neck onto her jawline and before he kissed her lips urgently. 
~~~
Luke sat in the center of the couch, Y/N’s legs were draped over his lap. Absent-mindedly, he was caressing the skin of her thighs. She was holding a pillow tightly to her chest as she was starting to doze in and out of sleep. Her eyes slowly flickered open as she shifted her gaze towards the TV.
“Baby, let’s head to bed,” Luke mumbled as he delicately tapped his hand against the tops of her thighs.
“No, no, ‘s okay,” she muttered as she waved her hand slightly towards Luke. He tilted his head to the side, watching her eyes flutter close again. He chuckled softly as he slowly pulled her legs off of his body.”What are you doing, love?” she muttered, her eyes still shut. 
“We are going to bed,” he explained as he reached down and took a hold of the pillow resting on her chest. She frowned while crossing her arms over her chest. He rested his hand onto the arm of the couch as he leaned down. He took a hold of her chin, tilting her head up. “My bed is so much more comfortable,” he mumbled.
“But I’m comfortable here,” she mumbled, a pout on her lips. Luke leaned down and pressed his against hers for a few seconds. 
“My bed is better and you know it,” he mumbled against her lips. Slowly, her lips curled up into a small smile. She raised her hand up and ran her thumb across his cheek. He kissed her softly, “Come on baby,” he leaned back slowly. She let out a deep breath, reluctantly following in pursuit. 
“Fine,” she let out as she began walking down the hallway that led towards his bedroom down the hall. He looped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She let out a soft chuckle as they stumbled further down the hallway.
Delicately, he pressed his lips against her cheek as they rounded the corner into his bedroom. She slipped away from his grasp and instantly climbed onto the mattress, curling up under the comforter.
He laughed as he watched her practically disappear beneath the blanket. He shut the door and out of habit twisted the lock. Practically leaping over her body and onto the other side of the bed. He laid on top of comfort, tilting his head to the side to see her hair being the only thing sticking out from under the blanket. 
He took a hold of the comforter and pulled it away from her face. “Hey,” he let out softly. She let out a breathy laugh as she watched him slowly climb under the comforter. She pressed her lips together as she watched him shuffle awkwardly. 
“You were right,” she mumbled, “This is so much better.” 
He grinned as he looped his arm around her waist. He began to run his hand along her back as he purposely bumped his nose against hers. “Did you just admit that I was right?” he whispered teasingly. 
“Savor it, it won’t happen again,” she whispered as she glided her manicured finger along his jawline. He chuckled before he dragged his tongue across his bottom lip. She pursed her lips forward as she fought off a grin. 
“I’m gonna savor this,” he muttered before he leaned towards her, pressing his lips against hers. She giggled into the kiss. She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging the curls. He pulled away slowly, watching her lips curl upward slightly. 
“You’re so cheesy,” she mumbled. 
“And that’s why you love me,” he muttered teasingly as he bit his bottom lip with a grin forming to his lips. 
“I guess so,”
“You guess so?” he asked teasingly as he took a hold of her thigh and pulled her as close as she could lay on top of him. She giggled as she rested her head onto his chest. Their legs quickly entangled as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 
“I love you, Lukey,” she mumbled as she slowly began to trail her finger tip along his chest. 
~~~
She was sitting on the couch, her computer sitting in her lap as she was working on her essay that was due in a week and a half. It needed to be at least ten pages and she was on page three. She promised Luke that she would take a break and not work on it. But Luke was out getting them breakfast, so she decided that she would work on it for a while.
There was soft music playing through one of the speakers resting on the kitchen counter, keeping her mind active. She wasn’t paying attention when the front door was pushed open, she was too focused on the music and her laptop. 
“Baby!” Luke sing-songed loudly as he practically skipped into the house. She jolted slightly, slamming her computer shut and placing it onto the coffee table. She spun her head around, watching Luke happily walk towards the kitchen. “You better not be working on that essay,” he called out.
She chuckled as she stood up from the couch, following after him. “I wasn’t,” she said while she entered the kitchen. She watched him pull out the takeout containers. 
“So if I open your laptop it won’t show your essay you promised to take a break from?” he asked as he tipped the takeout bag upside down, letting the plastic utensils and syrup cups fall out. 
She leaned down and rested her arms onto the counter, she scanned his frame. He slid the takeout container towards her as he smirked towards her. “I barely wrote a paragraph,” she mumbled. He hummed dramatically as a reply as he flipped open his container. His eyes lit up instantly at the sight of his meal. 
“Supposed to be taking a break, remember?” he offered as he began to add butter to his dramatic stack of pancakes. 
She chuckled softly as she walked around the kitchen island. Resting her hand onto his arm, she leaned towards him. Y/N delicately pressed her lips to his cheek. “I know, I know,” she mumbled against his cheek.
Looking down towards her, he smiled softly towards her. He pressed his hand against her lower back for a second. He leaned towards her pressing his lips against hers softly. He pecked her lips a few more times before she slipped away from him. She rounded the kitchen island again towards her own food. 
“Have you spoken to Jack?” she asked after she began to cut into her own pancakes. Luke nodded with a mouthful of food. 
“Called him on my drive back. He’s having a blast,” he explained after he swallowed his food.
“I didn’t know Jack knew what that was like,” she offered teasingly. Luke tossed his head back laughing. 
After another thirty minutes, they both finished their food and cleaned up the kitchen swiftly. She was laying on her back on the couch, staring towards the TV screen. Luke was sprailed out on top of her. His head rested on her chest as he glided his hands up and down her frame in the process. 
Her fingers ran through his curls, teasingly tugging the pieces every so often. His hand was gliding along her skin, sneaking it up her shirt. “Do you wanna try the hot tub tonight?” he asked softly as his thumb continuously grazed her skin. 
Her lips curled upward and before she could answer there was a loud knock against the door. Luke jolted up, hovering over her frame. “Did you order something?” he asked. She shook her head as stared towards the front door. There was another loud knock. 
Luke climbed off of the couch, glancing towards the door before looking back towards the couch. “Stay here,” he muttered as he walked toward the door. She sat up slightly, leaning back on her elbows. 
Luke took a deep breath as he walked up towards the door. He glanced behind him, looking towards Y/N for a second. Delicately, he pressed his hand against the door and looked into the peephole. “Oh for fuck sake,” he let out as he took a hold of the door handle. He pulled the door open.
“Hey Lukey!” Quinn said nonchalantly as he stepped into the house, rolling a suitcase behind him. “Y/N,” Quinn expressed, glancing towards her on the couch.
Luke pressed his lips together as he kept the door open, watching Quinn step into the house. Y/N instantly sat up, her entire body felt like it was on fire. Suddenly feeling very exposed. Despite her frame being completely covered.
“Wh–what are you doing here?” Luke asked as he shut the door. Quinn stood happily in the center of the living room. He had a wide teasing grin on his lips. Quinn looked towards Y/N, nodding towards her before meeting Luke’s gaze.
“I heard you two were having a little getaway together and I am not ready to be an uncle so I decided to join you two!” he offered teasingly. 
Luke and Y/N shared awkward glances. 
“I’m just kidding, I got off the plane and called Dad and told him what I was doing and he then told me that you two were already here. So I didn’t mean to crash but since I was already in town. Here I am!” he explained, the grin still on his lips. “But I’m not kidding about the uncle thing,” he expressed as he pointed his finger towards Luke and then towards Y/N.
“What’s wrong with your place in Vancouver?” Luke asked as he rested his hands onto his hips. 
“If they say I’m healthy I may get to play in the tournament so I thought I would stay here while they decide that,” Quinn explained. He nodded towards them as he started walking down the hallway towards his room. “Pretend I’m not here!” he called out from the hallway. 
Quickly, she climbed off of the couch and darted towards Luke. “It’ll be fine–fun even! How often do you see Quinn? Like never,” she offered. Luke nodded slowly as he stared completely passed Y/N’s head. “Luke?” she mumbled. He didn’t respond, disassociating by staring past her head.
She took a deep breath as she smacked her hand against his chest, “Plans have changed but you never see him, now is your chance,” she explained. He forced his gaze to meet her eye. He nodded again.
“You’re right,” he mumbled. He took a deep breath, “There’s leftovers from the breakfast place we love in the fridge if you want it!” he yelled out towards Quinn. 
“Oh hell yeah!” he called back. 
Instantly, Luke wrapped his arms around her waist. He leaned down and rested his forehead onto her shoulder. She rested her hand onto the base of his neck, running her hand along his neck.
“So much for a romantic getaway,” he mumbled before he tilted his head to the side, pressing his lips against her neck. 
“Such a drama queen,” she expressed teasingly. He smirked as he pressed his lips against the side of her neck again. Swiftly, he tightened his grip along her waist. He lifted her up in the air. She giggled while she wrapped her arms around his neck. 
Slowly, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He trailed his lips from her neck towards her jawline, peppering her jawline. 
“If you guys are gonna do that, can you keep it in Lukey's bedroom please?” Quinn said as he walked out of the hallway. He walked past them towards the kitchen.
She tilted her head back, looking down towards Luke. He clenched his jaw as his eyes widened slightly. “You’ll be fine,” she mumbled teasingly before she leaned towards him, pecking his lips for a second. Y/N tapped her hands against his shoulder, “Go catch up,”
Slowly, she glided down his frame, her hands ran along his chest. He tilted his head back, biting his bottom lip. “I’m gonna go shower,” she let out, raising her eyebrows towards him.
Luke tilted his head back, a pout fell on his lips. He reached towards her, begging for her to drag him along. She ignored his grabby hands as she continued to walk down the hallway towards the bathroom. Luke let out a sigh as he walked into the kitchen. Quinn was staring towards the microwave watching the take out container spin inside.
“I’m happy to see you, I promise man, but you kind of ruined all of my plans,” Luke explained as he stepped into the kitchen. Quinn spun his head around, a laugh leaving his lips in the process.
“Yeah and what were those plans then?” Quinn said teasingly. Luke tilted his head from side to side for a few seconds. His cheeks flushed red while he pursed his lips forward.
“She only had a few days she could take off so this was our only option,” Luke explained while crossing his arms over his chest. 
“Why didn’t you guys do a stay-cation at her apartment?” Quinn asked as the microwave beeped. He spun around and pulled out the container. 
Luke’s posture straightened as he pulled his lips between his teeth for a moment. He never intended to keep it a secret from Quinn for this long. It was only supposed to last until his rookie season was done and then until Quinn was done with playoffs. Luke tilted his head back and forth as he took a deep breath.
“Her apartment is also my apartment,” he explained while awkwardly shifting his gaze towards the floor. Quinn dropped the takeout container onto the counter. He spun around, his mouth fell open.
“Since when?” Quinn asked with an awkward laugh leaving his lips.
“Oh man, it’s–it’s been about–uhm–”
“Spit it out, Lukey,” Quinn said while crossing his arms over his chest. Quinn fought off a grin on his lips while watching Luke shift awwkardly in front of him.
“Since March last year,” he let out while nodding. 
“Do Mom and Dad know?” he asked. Luke nodded. “Oh, so you just forgot to tell me,”
“You didn’t like the idea of me having a girlfriend in my rookie season. So I didn’t know how you would react. I didn’t mean to never tell you. It was just never brought up before,” he explained while avoiding Quinn’s eye.
“I mean you love her, right?” Quinn asked. 
“More than anything,” Luke let out genuinely. 
“I’ll pretend to not be offended,” Quinn offered teasingly. He leaped towards Luke, pulling him down in a headlock. “Look at you, all in love and shit,” Quinn continued while laughing. Luke nearly fell over while laughing. 
“Oh shut up,” Luke let out while pulling away from Quinn. Quinn spun around and took a hold of his take out container. He walked towards a different counter and rested the container on it. “So, you’re not mad I didn’t tell you?”
“Nah, I should’ve known. You two are legit attached at the hip. Where is she anyway?” he asked as he shoved a forkful of pancakes in his mouth.
~~~
It was pitch black out as the three of them were in the hot tub. The TV was set up beside them playing the USA vs. Finland game and it was well into the third period. They spent most of the second and third period in the steaming water.
Quinn’s gaze was constantly on his phone, he was texting the entire game. He would submerge most of his body under the water, letting the heat help heal his body; at least think it would help. He pulled his phone towards his ear, talking quietly into the phone.
Luke and Y/N were snuggled beside one another. His arm was wrapped around her shoulder as he pulled her closer. His other hand was slowly gliding along the inside of her thigh.
He leaned towards her, pressing his lips against her cheek. “You okay?” he asked barely above a whisper. She hummed as she rested her head onto his shoulder. He tilted his head against hers.
“You’re right, this is perfect hot tub weather,” she whispered. He chuckled softly, as he looked towards the TV. “I’m just scared to get out,”
“It’ll suck for like thirty seconds but you’ll feel so good later,” he explained as he glided his fingertips down her arm. 
She lifted her head up, meeting his gaze, “Oh really?” she asked barely above a whisper. Luke nodded dramatically as a smile formed on his lips. He raised his hand up as he took a hold of her chin. He leaned towards her, pressing his lips against hers delicately.
“Guys really?” Quinn said with a chuckle. He pulled the phone away from his ear for a second. 
Luke pulled back, keeping his hand on her chin. He clenched his jaw as he glided his thumb along her bottom lip. “Do you wanna get out soon?” he asked still in a hushed tone.
“Let’s finish the game and then go,” she mumbled. 
“They’re up by three goals,” he offered, while raising his eyebrows and fighting off a smirk on his lips. She smiled softly as she tilted her head to the side. “Fine,” he muttered before he pecked her lips.
“Alright, I’ll call you later,” Quinn expressed before he set the phone back down. Quinn had a small smile on his lips as he kept his gaze towards the water. Luke and Y/N stared towards Quinn expectantly. After several seconds, he lifted his head up to look towards their direction. Quinn’s eyes widened as his cheeks flushed red. “What?” 
“Who was that?” Luke asked teasingly as he absentmindedly drew shapes along her shoulder.
Quinn pursed his lips forward and shook his head. “No one,” he let out.
“You’re blushing,” Y/N let out teasingly. He splashed some water towards them as a grin formed on his lips. “What’s her name?” she continued.
Quinn tilted his head back, “I’m getting out now,” he let out as he started climbing out of the hot tub. “You two enjoy yourselves,” he said as he fought off a wide grin. Y/N tossed her head back and laughed as she leaned her head against Luke’s shoulder. 
“I will not be answering any questions,” he expressed as he wrapped a towel around himself. His teeth shattered as he jogged towards the door to the house. “Don’t have sex in my hot tub!” he called out before he snuck inside.
Luke tightened his grip around Y/N while laughing. “Well if I had known that would’ve scared him off, I would’ve said something sooner,” he offered teasingly. She rolled her eyes playfully. 
Luke took a hold of her thigh and pulled her onto his lap. She helped him in the process as she rested her hands on the base of his neck. “I didn’t mean to scare him off,” she mumbled. 
“His fault for answering the call and blushing like an idiot,” he offered while tilting his head to the side. She squinted her eyes slightly as she pursed her lips forward. 
“You blush like an idiot all of the time,” she offered teasingly as she dragged her thumbs along the sides of his neck. He smiled widely as she leaned forward resting her forehead onto his shoulder. 
“I do not,” he let out while laughing.
Quinn stood near the window watching his youngest brother smile and grin like an idiot. Quinn has never seen his little brother smile like that. Not even when he was a little kid. This was the first time he’s ever seen him look so happy. He began to walk away towards the hallway towards his bedroom.
601 notes · View notes
quarterlifekitty · 10 hours ago
Text
Lord!Johnny who detests the lot he’s drawn in life. He has no patience for propriety, for decorum. He just wants to be free— that’s all. To enjoy life and live without worry. He doesn’t realize how good he has it.
He fools around with you, one of the ladies in waiting, a respected member of the royal court. Cornering you in empty halls to kiss your neck and ruck his hands through your skirts.
You don’t want to deny him. Having his attention is nice. But you’ve told him before that you want to be courted properly— for this to be real.
And scoffs. Isn’t this real enough? You enjoy each other. That’s not anyone else’s business. Why ruin a good thing by playing some silly dating game for the pleasure of everyone else in the court? He likes things the way they are— free and easy. Enjoying you without any of the harsh expectations.
Enter Lord Riley, who was not born into this life. He earned his title, his lands, everything— through tears, sweat, and bloodshed in service of the crown. Men of such valiance are often offered to choose their reward, and he wants to be able to court any lady of his choosing. The other ladies are terrified— his skull mask and brooding demeanor, the lives he ended— not to mention the knowledge that he’s common born.
You don’t particularly care. Men have their reasons for doing such things. And you’ve found men born into wealth and titles are nothing spectacular themselves. So it should come as no surprise that he picks you out. And it seems he’s done his research.
Despite not being much for conversation, he is a perfect gentleman. You wonder if he would’ve treated a peasant girl so gently— and you have the feeling he would. He meets you at least once a week, has tea brought to the garden for you to sit with him. Your first kiss is in the hedge maze, backdropped by rose bushes. His hold on your waist was firm— like you were something he couldn’t bear to lose.
Needless to say, Johnny isn’t happy. You’ve been turning your nose up at him when he tries to pin you, batting his hands away from your skirts. Doesn’t take him long to find out why.
“So, some bloke with a scary mask waltzes in and suddenly yer done with me? Ah thought we had a good thing going, pigeon—“
“Maybe we did, but I’m not going to fool around while I’m being courted.” You know he hates that word.
“What’s he even got that ah don’t? I make ye feel good, don’t I?”
“He might marry me. That, and a million other reasons.”
“Marriage— what good is that? It’ll just tie ye down, bonnie, ye don’t wan’ that—“
“I do. I’m not like you, Johnny. My fortune won’t care for me forever. Men can get married as they please, but women— I only have so much time before no one wants me. Don’t you see that? And don’t try to tell me whatever was between us was going to be permanent. You would’ve left just as soon as someone else turned your head. That’s who you are.”
At the same time Johnny feels his heart start to bleed, Simon puts in a commission with the jeweler.
514 notes · View notes
internet-sentences · 2 days ago
Text
I have this cursed sword that I formed a contract with that lives by my side and whispers to me and I like it, because I like cursed swords generally, and because I think we have a good contract, which is essentially that I get to do whatever I want at all times and it gets to hang out at my side. It gets to listen in, and whisper advice, and have an owner, or maybe a host, which is very important to a cursed sword. It gets to be the first line of defense when things get nasty, if I let it, which I largely don’t because I honestly do not have that many problems requiring a cursed sword. I mostly tell my cursed sword to sing me to sleep and it does, happily. It says everything is going to be just fine. Sleep, sweetie. I’ve seen terrible things, and I can tell you that nothing bad is happening. Everything bad in the world is a lie intended to distract you from the truth, which is that the world is beautiful, and life is beautiful, as long as you focus on yourself and don’t care too much what happens to other people. I tell my friends I love my cursed sword, I think it’s a pretty good one as far as they go, but I don’t really believe anything that it says. I think my cursed sword is ideologically compromised. My friends say uhh, yeah.
417 notes · View notes
mephisto-reporting · 3 days ago
Text
Silk, Satin and Sensual - Caleb Edition
Tumblr media
Premise: Headcanons on his preferences for lingerie and his reaction when he sees you in them. Based on this request. Pairing: Reader x Caleb. You can find all the other men's version here (along with Caleb's because I added that to it) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. This is suggestive. Please do not interact if you are a minor. . If you wanted to be added to my taglist, please DM, ask or comment :D Content warning: Suggestive. MNDI.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Caleb prefers lingerie that’s just for him—sexy yet teasing, revealing enough to drive him mad but covering just enough to make him desperate.
Caleb gravitates toward sleek, understated sensuality. He favors deep, alluring colors like navy, black, and dark burgundy, shades that hint at elegance but still feel undeniably intimate. However, he has a soft spot for delicate lilacs and soft purples, especially when they complement your skin.
Minimal but devastatingly effective designs have him on edge. Thin straps barely holding everything together, high-cut panties that accentuate your legs, delicate bralettes that are more about aesthetics than practicality. He loves when the details like lace appliques or ribbon ties demand his attention. Anything he can tug, unravel, or ruin.
Let’s be real. Caleb is not a man who delicately undresses you. He’s been patient his entire life, watching, waiting, restraining himself. The moment you’re finally his? He’s not taking his time. “You knew what would happen when you put this on, didn’t you?” His voice is low, rough—before the sound of tearing lace fills the room.
If you ever wonder why pieces of your lingerie mysteriously disappear, don’t. Caleb takes them when you’re not looking, slipping them into his uniform pockets or luggage when he’s preparing for deployment. He’s possessive, obsessive, and when he’s away on fleet missions, he wants something of yours to keep with him. A delicate lace garter? A silk chemise you once wore to bed? He’ll tuck them away like trophies, running his fingers over them late at night, mind filled with thoughts of you.
He’s a man who gives gifts with purpose. He knows exactly what you want, and he knows what he wants. If he’s getting you that plushie you mentioned offhandedly, or the book you’ve been dying to read, you will find a carefully wrapped lingerie set alongside it. Every gift is a two-for-one deal—his way of spoiling you while satisfying his own desires. Tucked inside, there’s always a note with cheeky messages: "Making dinner tonight. But if you wear this, you'll be the dessert."
Caleb is the picture of patience in public. He knows what you’re wearing underneath your dress—he saw you put it on, watched every slow movement in the mirror. But he doesn’t let it show. Not a single twitch of his lips, not a single shift in his stance. He leans down, lips brushing your ear, his voice impossibly calm: “You’re going to regret this later.”
There is one thing that drives him past the point of no return— his clothes on you. Seeing you in his oversized shirt is one thing, but if he catches you lounging in his boxers? He’s done. His fingers dig into the waistband, his voice a rough whisper against your ear. “You must really like testing me, huh?” His breath is hot against your neck, his hands already tugging the waistband lower. Any plans you had for the day? Gone.
His Reaction:
When you step into the room, wearing something meant just for him, his expression darkens immediately. There’s a brief flicker of something feral in his purple eyes—desire, possessiveness, raw hunger. He doesn’t say a word at first, just stands there, his breath held. “You expect me to behave after this?” His patience is frayed, and it's clear he’s barely holding onto his composure.
Try to tease him, make him work for it and he’ll let you, for a moment. He enjoys the chase, the way you think you’re in control. But the moment he decides he’s had enough? You’re done for. One second, he’s watching you with quiet intensity, and the next, you’re beneath him, your wrists pinned, your breath stolen by the sheer force of his presence.
When he touches you, it’s as if he can’t get enough—his fingers move with purpose, reverence, but there’s an undeniable urgency. “You’re mine. Always.” And with that, his lips crash against yours, taking what’s his. There’s no gentle teasing here—this is pure, unfiltered desire. It’s clear there’s no going back now. You’ve pushed him past the point of no return. The soft, teasing lace may have been your choice—but now everything that happens from there is his.
Tumblr media
AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!
Taglist: @cordidy, @natimiles @leighsartworks216 @notisekais @raining4food @fallthelong @pomegranatepip @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @krystallevine @lemurianmaster @nenggie @loverindeepspace @sinsodom
498 notes · View notes
ranoutofficssoiwritemyown · 23 hours ago
Note
Hello! Can I request the lads boys with a reader that’s typically super composed losing their composure? It could be something serious or super small, they just hit their breaking point.
Okay, this might be longer than I intended it to be but les go
Zayne
Zayne flinches slightly when you slam the door shut as you enter.
“Hello, dear”
“I can’t fucking believe it”
Zayne raises his eyebrow. He has never, and he can swear that he never, ever heard a swear word coming from your mouth, nor has he ever seen you this angry.
“Don’t these people look where they’re going at all? Look at my shoes, they were white when I left home this morning. At least three people have stepped on me. What the fuck?”
Maybe Zayne should thank god that you don’t notice how he sneaks a glance at the calendar and once he makes sure it is nowhere near your period he stands up and approaches you, however, you interrupt whatever he is going to say while you’re pacing back and forth.
“Then I was late to work, and to make matters worse I got stuck in the elevator. I was there for at least half an hour. And when I finally meet Jenna, because that’s why I was there actually since it’s my day off, I found out that I can’t go to any mission for at least three days, because a certain doctor doesn’t recommend it”
Zayne’s eyes widen at her last sentence. No, he’s not scared of you, generally. But he’s also never seen you like this. The thing is, you and Zayne are on the same wavelength. Both of you are calm and composed, even during arguments, which are rare, none of you raise your voice. Now he’s standing here watching you pace around in his office and shouting curses because you had a bad day, part of which is apparently his fault and… he fears for his life.
Only when he sees angry tears does he come out of the trance and grab your hand pulling you to him. He cups your face and you look up at him with a frown.
“Okay, take a deep breath with me” he inhales deeply and you copy him. He does it a couple of times before seeing you slightly relax “Good. Now, listen to me. I understand you had a bad day and I’m sorry that you can’t go on missions for a few days, but you had an injury a week ago”
You open your mouth to speak but he shushes you with his finger on your lips.
“Shh, let me. I know it’s healed, but you were on bed rest and even if you feel like it, you’re not completely fine. Let’s give it a few days, hm? Trust me, I’m not doing this just because.”
You stay silent and Zayne sighs.
“I’ll be off in an hour. How about you wait for me? Then we can go home and have hot chocolate while watching the show you’ve been begging me to watch together for weeks.”
“I wasn’t begging…” you mumble as you look down.
“What was that?”
“Okay”
“Okay,” Zayne kisses your forehead before you get comfortable in the armchair in the corner of his office.
Rafayel
‘Well, she needs a fucking exorcism’ is his first thought as he sees you stomping in his studio. Apparently, your cat is lost, and Rafayel might or might not have something to do with it. In his defense, it wasn’t on purpose. How could he have known that if he’d leave his door open that little devil would run away?
“I knew I shouldn’t have left him with you, I’m so stupid- actually no, you’re so stupid. How the hell did you lose him?”
“I told you, I left the door-”
“I know what you told me, it was rhetorical- god is your brain of a fish too?”
“Wow, that’s mean”
Rafayel pouts slightly and he would become dramatic in a moment if it wasn’t you being dramatic right now and you weren’t even doing it on purpose. Oh no, Rafayel has never seen you this furious, nearly having a mental breakdown and his brain short circuits.
“He must be so scared and hungry and… lost” You sniffle and Rafayel realises you’re crying.
“Hey, hey, look. We’ll find him okay? Thomas is out there searching for him. I’m so sorry I lost him but we’ll get him back, I promise”
“How? You don’t even-”
“Look who I found”
Thomas enters the studio with an orange cat in his arms. You run to him immediately and Rafayel sighs in relief. He thinks you would actually kill him if Thomas couldn’t find the cat.
“I owe you my life” he whispers to Thomas.
Rafayel approaches you, eyeing the cat in disdain.
“I’m never leaving you with him,” you say to your cat.
“Oh- oh no. Please don’t take him away from me”
You laugh at his sarcastic answer.
“I’m sorry I called you stupid”
If Rafayel couldn’t act dramatic before, now was the perfect time.
“Yeah, you should be. That was really mean, you know? Your words pierced through my heart like a dagger-”
You cut him off with a kiss
“Does this make up for it?”
“What was I talking about?”
You laugh.
Xavier
Xavier has never in his life regretted anything like he regrets letting you play on his gaming console. Who would know that as much as you are calm and collected, there is a rage in you that only the videogame can take out on the surface. Maybe not. Xavier knows you've been stressed lately and maybe you're taking everything on your teammates in some stupid videogame. Either way, it doesn't look good.
“Are you serious? You are a support for fuck’s sake, why are you taking my kills? I’m the adc here. I’m playing with degenerates”
You’ve been shouting at the screen for so long that Xavier becomes tired. He tries to tune you out, he really does, but there’s only so much he can take. He gets up from the bed and unplugs the gaming console. You look at him like he just stabbed you in the back.
“Wh-what- why? Oh my god, I’m gonna get banned for being afk”
“It’s my account, I’m gonna get banned and I don’t care. This game is driving you crazy… and me”
“But-”
“No,” he says it like, you’re a kid “Come to bed, I wanna take a nap”
“I’m not sleepy,” You say while yawning and Xavier chuckles slightly.
“Okay, come on”
You take his hand and drop to bed, taking him with you.
“I bought a new hero, by the way”
“YOU SPENT MY GOLD?”
“Shh, let’s sleep”
You shush him quickly as he grumbles something under his breath. Whatever, it's a much healthier coping mechanism anyway.
Sylus
Sylus didn’t expect to see you bawling your eyes out when he entered his bedroom. To say, he is surprised, would be an understatement. The most out of control he has seen you is when you… well, when you wanted to kill him, to be honest. Even then, he pulled the trigger on himself. So seeing you in his room, sobbing in his bed is something new and terrifying. In a second he is beside you, gathering you in his arms while you sob into his chest.
“Sweetie, tell me what’s the matter. You know I can make it disappear, whatever it is… or whoever it is.”
You don’t answer, couldn’t answer. But you try to get ahold of yourself.
“He-” and a sob escaped your lips again.
Sylus stayed silent to give you time to gather your words as he planned the most painful ways to murder whoever ‘he’ was, in his mind.
“He loved her and he didn’t tell her, because-” you sniffle as Sylus gets more and more confused “because he thought she would never look at him”
You grab the book beside you and suddenly everything makes sense. You’re crying because of a book. Sylus almost laughed, but he stopped himself from making a grave mistake.
“But she loved him too and now she’s married but they both still love each other. And she named her son after him”
Sylus understands half of it as he wipes your tears.
“What do I do with you, kitten, hm?”
“What?”
He laughs before kissing your cheek
“I’ll get the bath ready and tell me about the book while we relax, okay?”
“Okay”
“And maybe next time, don’t give me a heart attack”
You frown.
“It’s really sad. Doesn’t it affect you at all?”
“Fictional tragic love? Not my cup of tea. But coming home and seeing you having a mental breakdown over a book affects me… a lot, may I add”
You laugh sheepishly
“Sorry”
He kisses you, before disappearing into the bathroom.
Caleb
Caleb has known you since childhood and has seen every side of you… or so he thought. He can swear he has never seen you so angry and to make matters worse, you’re angry at him. Now he regrets every life choice he has ever made.
“Okay pipsqueak, calm down-”
Another apple comes flying to his face and he barely avoids it.
“Don’t tell me to calm down, you asshole. Am I your prisoner now? You locked me in your house while you were god knows where and even had the nerve to not answer my calls. I swear-”
You try to throw another apple at him but he grabs it before you can.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry but I wasn’t near my phone, what was I supposed to do?”
“Maybe not lock me into the house?” You exclaim.
“Oh, you’re so hot when you’re mad”
There is a moment of silence before you lunge at him.
“Fuck, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that- Ow!” He rambles as you hit his chest repeatedly. He steps back and trips over something. Next thing he knows, he’s on the floor and you’re on top of him, straddling his waist. You are breathing heavily as you blow loose strands of your hair from your face.
“There’s something wrong with you”
You say calmly and he stays silent.
“Why would you-”
“You tried to leave”
He says suddenly.
“What?”
“How would you know you were locked in if you didn’t try to leave?”
You look at him dumbfounded and almost started pounding on his chest again.
“I didn’t know what to expect when you’d wake up and I had to go to work. I didn’t want to come home and find you gone so I did what I could think of… And I really wasn’t near my phone when you were calling me, I swear.”
“you are so stupid”
You mumble as you get up. He follows you and dusts himself off.
“I wanted to get some air, take a walk but no my boyfriend is a paranoid freak”
“I’m your boyfriend?”
He grins suddenly. You watch him for a minute before letting out a scoff
“An idiot is what you are”
424 notes · View notes
fruitguy · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Just a super quick sketch of everyone's favorite Willy Wonka character: The Unknown
405 notes · View notes