#Not my best work but I needed to get this out into the world

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: Where you “unfortunately” caught your best friend's roomate—your unsaid enemy—masturbating in their shared apartment. — WC: 4.6k — WARNINGS: smut, monster cock!seungcheol, explicit language and content, overstimulation, dry fucking, oral as a tongue massage (f. receiving)—a reward <3, body fluids (cum), dry humping, cock riding, dumbfication, degradation, aftercare, exhaustion, and DIRTY TALK.

here’s how it always goes with seungcheol:

you walk into a room, he immediately finds something to scoff at. maybe it’s the way you dress, maybe it’s the way you talk, maybe it’s just the fact that you exist in his general vicinity. but it doesn’t matter what you do—he hates you. or, at the very least, that’s what he insists on showing you.

joshua, your best friend and possibly the only person in the world who can tolerate both of you without losing his mind, always tells you to be the bigger person. “he’s not that bad,” he says, as if seungcheol didn’t practically hiss at you last week for sitting on his side of the couch.

but whatever. you don’t go out of your way to piss him off, and he doesn’t go out of his way to be nice. that’s just the way it is.

which is why you hesitate when joshua calls you:

“i swear, i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. i left my keys at your place before i flew out, remember?”

“okay, but i literally don’t want to step foot in his apartment,” you stress, cringing at the thought.

“it’s my apartment, too,” joshua deadpans.

you groan, already feeling a headache coming on.

“just go in, grab the folder on my desk, and leave,” he insists. “cheol probably won’t even be home.”

which is how you find yourself standing outside their apartment door, holding joshua’s keys and hyping yourself up like you’re about to enter enemy territory. which, in a way, you are.

you unlock the door, push it open,

and immediately wish you hadn’t.

seungcheol. on the couch. fisting his cock.

your brain short-circuits. like, full shutdown, blue screen, cease all functioning mode.

the man is spread out—legs wide, head tipped back, theres a drop of sweat that drips from his neck aand land in the middle of his chest. hes exposing his toned abs that clench with every up and down of his hand. and his cock is huge. thick from the base to the top and flushed deep red at the tip, veins prominent as his fist works over it.

he’s so lost in it that he doesn’t even register your presence at first, not until he finally cracks his eyes open and sees you standing there, frozen stunned into silence.

the next few seconds happen in slow motion.

his eyes widen. his entire body stiffens. his hand stops.

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

seungcheol scrambles to cover himself, reaching for the nearest thing—which, unfortunately for him, is a shirt that does nothing to hide the absolute tent he’s pitching. his face goes red, splotchy from the neck up, and he looks so flustered that for a split second, you almost feel bad.

“why the fuck are you here?!” he practically barks at you, voice ragged from whatever the fuck he was doing before you ruined his life.

you blink, still processing the image that’s now burned into your brain for eternity. “uh. joshua?”

“what about joshua?!”

“he… he needed a document.”

seungcheol lets out a sound that is so frustrated, so exasperated, that it almost doesn’t register as human. “and you didn’t think to knock?!”

“why would i knock?! i didn’t think anyone would be jerking off in the living room like a fucking pervert—”

“IT’S MY APARTMENT.”

“IT’S JOSHUA’S TOO.”

“HE’S NOT HERE.”

“WELL, NEITHER AM I, NOW.” you turn on your heel, hand reaching for the doorknob. “i’ll just get the doc later—”

but before you can escape, he rasps, “don’t you dare tell joshua about this.”

you pause. smirk. oh, this is fun.

back still facing him, fingers still wrapped around the doorknob. you should leave. should pretend none of this ever happened. but something—some sick, wrong part of you—doesn’t want to.

so you turn. lean back against the door. cross your arms.

“what?” he snaps, shifting on the couch, the shirt still pitifully draped over his lap.

you tilt your head, dragging your gaze slowly down his body—his hard nipples, the taut muscles in his arms, the way his thighs tense like he’s fighting the urge to close them. you can see the way he twitches under the shirt.

“you’re still hard,” you note, your voice syrupy sweet, but your eyes gleam meanly.

seungcheol tenses. “so?”

“so… you’re mad at me for walking in,” you say, cocking a brow, “but you’re still hard as fuck.”

he grits his teeth, but his silence is loud as hell.

so you take a step forward. just one.

his breath hitches.

“cheol.” you coo at him. “you sure you hate me?”

he glares, but it’s weaker now, faltering under your scrutiny. you can see it—the slight tremor in his fingers, the way his pulse jumps in his throat, the way he’s not telling you to stop.

so you take another step.

and another.

until you’re standing right in front of him, the shirt the only barrier between his cock and your eyes.

his jaw tightens. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” you murmur, reaching forward to trace your fingers over his wrist—the one that was just wrapped around his cock. “don’t call you out? don’t get closer? don’t—”

in a flash, he grabs your wrist, yanking you down.

you gasp as you land on his lap, his hands firm on your hips, his cock pressing against your ass through the thin barrier of the shirt and your clothes.

his lips are right by your ear when he growls, “don’t fucking test me.”

you shiver, but you’re not scared, you’re thrilled.

so you shift, pressing back against him, and smirk when he lets out a sharp breath through his nose.

“or what?” you whisper.

his grip tightens. “you really wanna find out?”

your fingers curl into his hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss.

“yeah,” you breathe, lips brushing his jaw. “i do.”

he snaps.

the shirt under you is gone.

his mouth crashes into yours, hot and angry, his hands gripping your waist like he’s trying to burn the shape of you into his palms. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, his tongue prying your mouth open, swallowing the gasp you let out when his fingers dig into your hips.

you grind down, moaning into his mouth when you feel just how fucking thick he is, leaking against your skirt. 

his hands are rough when he yanks your skirt up, bunching the fabric around your waist with no intention of letting it fall back down. you barely have a second to breathe before his fingers push past your thighs, finding the front of your panties hooking his thumb into the damp fabric and pulling it to the side.

the rush of cold air makes you gasp, thighs trying to snap shut, but his thighs pins them open. and maybe, he has a shred of decency in him, because he lets out a low breath and murmurs, “this is gonna be rough.”

no warning. just that.

you should stop him. you should tell him to go slow, to prep you, to at least spit on it—but you don’t, you need to feel this big cock stretching you until every single thought inside your head gets completely erased.

there’s no lube, no prep besides the mess between your thighs, just the torturous process of sinking down.

seungcheol watches all of it. watches the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter, how your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders the lower you go. he’s leaning back against the couch, one hand gripping the plush of your ass, the other wrapped around his base, guiding you onto him like you’re something delicate. like he’s trying to help.

but he’s not.

because he knows what he’s doing when he taps his cockhead against your clit first, dragging the tip through your slick, coaxing out little whimpers that make him smirk. he knows what he’s doing when he presses up, just the tip slipping inside, barely enough to be satisfying but more than enough to make your thighs twitch.

your breath catches in your throat, your whole body twitching up as you take the next inch too fast. your brain is empty, your body is working on instinct, thighs shaking as you brace yourself against him, trying—failing—to push down further.

and he sees it. sees how you’re struggling, sees how your muscles twitch like you’re about to give out, sees how you want to take it but your body is fighting the stretch.

so he helps.

his hands clamp down on your waist.

and then he slams you down.

the sound that leaves your throat is so ruined that he cant help but feel a bit of compassion.

because suddenly you’re full. suddenly you’re sitting completely in his lap, completely engulfed in him, your thighs flush against his, his cock buried so fucking deep that you can feel it pressing up against every nerve inside you.

but when you try to move, try to lift yourself even an inch—nothing.

your thighs won’t cooperate. your muscles won’t listen.

you can’t move.

“oh?” seungcheol tilts his head, smug grin curling at his lips as he grinds up, watching the way your mouth falls open at the sensation.

“too big for you, baby?”

you whimper.

“thought so.”

and then he takes control, because you can’t move—so he does it for you. his hands lift you effortlessly, dragging your hips up before slamming you back down, setting the pace, forcing your body to take what it’s given.

and you can’t think straight anymore. every thrust knocks the air from your lungs, every time he slams you down it punches little whimpers from your throat that only make him hungrier.

“awww… thought you were so tough. but you can’t even fuck yourself on my cock, huh?”

you cry out, body giving up, melting against his chest as you desperately try to follow his rhythm, hips twitching with little, pathetic attempts to keep up. your body isn’t even yours anymore—just a toy, something for seungcheol to use, something he’s breaking in with every brutal roll of his hips. 

his fingers dig into your waist, gripping you so tight it hurts, but the pleasure drowns it out. you’re so deep into it, into him, that every ounce of shame has left your body, every shred of dignity gone. because you can’t do anything but take it, can’t do anything but let him use you like you were made for this.

he tilts his head, watching you fall apart, watching how your thighs tremble with every slap of his hips against yours.

“damn,” he laughs, licking his lips, voice mocking. “you’re making such a fucking mess of yourself.”

you whimper, forehead pressing against his collarbone.

and then he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“mm-mm, don’t hide now,” he says, smirking. “be a good girl and let me see that dumb little face while i ruin you.”

a sob rips from your throat, high-pitched and wrecked.

he groans, grinding up into you.

“fuck. bet the neighbors can hear you, huh? joshua’s gonna be so fucking embarrassed when he gets a noise complaint for his dumb little best friend getting dicked down like a whore.”

your whole body jerks, a whimper escaping your lips at the humiliation, the filth dripping from his tongue.

and he sees it.

his grin turns cruel.

“oh, you like that?” he taunts, thrusting up so deep your back arches. “you like knowing that you’re loud enough to make it everyone’s fucking problem? that you’re such a good little fucktoy for me that i can’t even keep you quiet?”

you nod, because you can’t lie. his fingers tighten around your jaw, his lips brushing against yours as he coos.

“poor little thing.”

he thrusts up again, so hard, so deep that your whole body bounces, hands scrambling against his chest, voice cracking in a choked-out sob.

and he moans, deep and satisfied, because you’re so fucking perfect for him. because your body is his to use, to mold, to ruin.

“joshua’s gonna kill me c-cheol.”

his hips snap up again, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“but you’ll tell him it was worth it, won’t you, baby?”

he smooths one over your back, pressing down so your tits rub against his burning skin, while the other stays firm on your hip, keeping you still. your body jerks with every pulse of his cock inside you, twitching as you flutter around him, so overstimulated you can’t tell where the pleasure starts or ends.

“s-seungcheol—” his name is nothing but a broken cry, muffled against his neck, but he’s relentless. he doesn’t even let you finish, just shifts his knees slightly and thrusts up into you with all the power in his core.

“fuck,” he hisses when you clamp down, crying out into his skin, and he wraps an arm fully around you to hold you up. “shh, baby, you’re being so loud.”

his hand snakes up your back, fingers tangling into your hair, forcing you to lift your head. you meet his gaze, and it knocks the breath from your lungs. he looks fucked, mouth parted, sweat dripping from his hairline, chest heaving, but he still manages to look at you like he’s about to devour you whole.

“c’mon,” he coos, tilting his head, his grip tightening just enough to make your scalp tingle. “tell me it was worth it. tell me how good my cock is.”

he punctuates it with a sharp snap of his hips and you keen, trying to lift yourself, trying to relieve some of the intensity, but your thighs betray you. seungcheol laughs, breathless but smug, and his fingers press bruises into your skin as he maneuvers you like you weigh nothing.

“see? can’t even move, huh? my poor baby,” he murmurs, voice syrupy sweet, his free hand cupping your cheek now. “you’re just gonna sit here and take it like the perfect fucktoy you are.”

heat prickles at your skin at the words, your brain too fogged up to be embarrassed, too fucked out to do anything but let him guide you. he rocks you against him, making sure you feel every inch of him dragging against your walls, rubbing at all the right places, pressing into you deeper than you thought was even possible.

“you take me so well, baby,” he praises, leaning in to press his lips against yours, just enough to tease. “so fuckin’ tight, so warm—fucking heaven.”

his hand slides between your bodies, two fingers finding your swollen, neglected clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over it. the sensation makes your thighs twitch, your nails dig into his back, a fresh wave of tears pooling at the corners of your eyes.

“shhh, i got you, baby,” he whispers, kissing your jaw now, your temple. his fingers on your clit work in time with the slow, torturous grind of his hips. “i got you, yeah? you gonna cum for me? hm?”

he kisses you full on the mouth when you sob, swallowing the sound like he wants to keep it forever. and then he speeds up just a little, rolling your clit with more pressure, meeting every rut of your hips with a firm thrust up.

you shatter.

your whole body seizes, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as you clamp down so tight on him that it sends him tumbling over the edge with you. he groans, long and low, holding you so tight against him that you can feel every pulse of his cum inside you, hot and deep. his hips jerk once, twice more before he stills, forehead pressed against yours as you both gasp for air.

it’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds are the distant hum of the city outside the window, and the soft squelch when he finally shifts, making you both moan.

your body trembles like a leaf caught in the wind, and seungcheol drinks it in, the heat of your overstimulated form twitching against his chest as he presses slow, lingering kisses into the curve of your neck. his lips move down, sucking at the pulse point that hammers beneath your skin. your breath stutters. his fingers, nails just barely grazing, trail down the arch of your spine, featherlight but enough to make you shiver. you barely even realize you’re moving, the last bit of strength in your boneless limbs used to weakly push yourself up, to let his cock slip free from where it’s buried inside you. 

the second it leaves you, your body gives out. you collapse right into his chest, heavier than before, spent and trembling, the exhaustion hitting all at once. you can’t even pretend to be embarrassed about it. you just sigh, your lips brushing the base of his throat as you settle against him, body limp.

seungcheol holds you steady with both hands, like he’s afraid you might melt right into the couch and disappear. his broad palm cradles the back of your head, fingers splaying across your scalp, scratching at your roots. he keeps the other hand wrapped around your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly against your ribs. the tension in his body hasn’t left yet. his shoulders are still tight. you know him well enough to know what’s coming before he even says it.

“you good?” 

you hum in response, nuzzling into his chest as your fingers curl weakly against his pecs. “just a little sore.”

he exhales through his nose. shifts beneath you. you can feel his fingers flex where they rest on your waist, like he wants to squeeze but holds himself back. then, with zero effort, he grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, just enough to force you to look at him. your lids are heavy, half-lidded, dazed, and fuck, that shouldn’t make him feel so possessive, but it does.

his thumb sweeps across your cheek, his jaw tensing. “shit. i’m sorry,” he murmurs, eyes scanning over your features like he’s searching for anything more than just exhaustion. “lemme take care of you, hm?”

you don’t have it in you to resist, don’t even want to. you let him move you, let him handle you like you weigh nothing as he lifts you from his lap and shifts you onto the couch, laying you down as if you’re something delicate. and maybe you are, now, after the way he ruined you. maybe that’s why you don’t fight him when he presses your thighs apart, watching as they just fall open on their own, spread wide like a doll.

you don’t have the strength to do much else than whimper softly as his thumbs spread you further, gaze locked onto your swollen cunt, still so slick from where he fucked you. his jaw clenches.

you don’t even get a warning before he moves in, before his hands grip your thighs to keep them open as he dives between them, mouth sealing over your clit in one slow stroke of his tongue.

you jolt, a weak little gasp punching from your lungs. your fingers barely find the energy to tangle into his hair, and the grip is nowhere near as firm as it usually is, but he groans anyway. whether it’s from the feeling of your grip or from the way you instantly react to him, you don’t know. but he doesn’t stop.

his tongue moves slow, warm and so fucking wet as he licks broad, flat strokes over your sensitive flesh, working you open again with patience. he isn’t trying to overstimulate, isn’t trying to get you off again—though you can already tell it wouldn’t take much. his focus is entirely on easing the ache, on massaging every tender inch of you with his mouth, his lips, his tongue.

“feels good?” his voice is muffled against you, but it vibrates in just the right way.

you nod, breath hitching when he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue rolling it in slow circles. your body twitches, heat curling at the base of your spine. “cheol…”

he moans against you, and presses you down harder against his face. your hips jump, an embarrassing whimper breaking free as his tongue dips lower, tracing around your entrance before dragging back up, collecting every bit of slick along the way.

you whine, fingers curling tighter in his hair. he doesn’t tease. doesn’t prolong it. just keeps his pace slow and steady, gentle enough to soothe, firm enough to keep you on the edge of something, even if you’re too sensitive to chase it. and if the way he’s grinding his hips into the couch tells you anything—it’s that he’s just as affected as you are.

he’s not eating you out to get himself off, but fuck if it isn’t working.

the obscene sounds of his mouth working between your thighs filling the entire apartment, mixing in with your breathless moans and the way he groans right into your cunt. you don’t even have it in you to be embarrassed about the way your cum is smeared all over his chin, his jaw, his cheeks—how it drips down onto the couch below with every intentional roll of his tongue against your entrance.

his tongue works in circles, pressing flat to your hole before dragging up again, tasting every bit of your arousal as it gushes out onto his lips. his mouth is open the entire time, tongue rolling and flicking, nose nudging against your clit as he angles his head lower. he flattens his tongue, groaning as he drags it up through your folds before plunging it into you, so messy that you swear you see white behind your eyelids.

your back arches, chest rising in sharp, hiccupped gasps, every single nerve in your body on flames. your thighs twitch in his grasp, and he squeezes them tighter, keeping you spread open just for him. his hands slide up, one wrapping firmly around your waist, keeping you pinned in place, while the other travels up, up—his fingers finding the stiff peaks of your nipples.

your eyes snap open, a gasp catching in your throat as he rolls one between his fingertips, twisting just enough to make your eyes roll. you swear you hear him chuckle against you, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“breathe,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your clit before sucking it between his teeth, tongue rolling in lazy, teasing circles on the swollen bud. “breathe for me, baby.”

you try. you really do. but the way his mouth moves, the way his fingers tweak and pull, it’s too much. you’re spiraling. you feel another orgasm creeping up so fast it steals the air right out of your lungs.

he sees it. he knows.

his grip tightens on your thigh, his tongue flicking faster, working you open as his free hand continues to play with your tits, kneading the soft flesh, fingers rolling your nipples in rhythm with the lazy grind of his tongue against your clit.

your moans turn high-pitched, desperate. your body twists beneath him, unable to keep still as the pleasure builds, climbing higher and higher.

but then—a whimper.

not from you.

from him.

you force your heavy lids open, head lolling to the side as you try to focus on him. and fuck, the sight that greets you is almost enough to make you cum then and there.

seungcheol is rutting against the couch. grinding, fucking humping it like a damn dog, his hips rolling in slow thrusts, his rock-hard cock straining against his stomach, smearing precum all over his abs and the fabric beneath him.

he whimpers again, this time louder, his brows furrowed, his breath coming in short, uneven pants.

“fuck,” he groans, mouth still pressed against you, voice muffled by the way his tongue keeps working you over. he pulls back just enough to speak, his lips glistening, his chin soaked. his eyes are dark, glassy, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you. “can’t—fuck, i can’t stop. you taste too good.”

your chest tightens, a desperate, aching cry slipping from your lips as you clutch at his hair, thighs twitching in his grasp. “cheol—gonna—gonna cum, oh my god—”

he moans, actually fucking moans, his hips grinding down harder against the couch as he redoubles his efforts, tongue circling your clit in precise, teasing flicks, his fingers pinching your nipples just hard enough to send you over the edge.

your body locks up. your back arches. your mouth falls open, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, all-consuming.

seungcheol doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow down. he works you through it like it’s his mission, licking you clean, his tongue rolling over your entrance, collecting every last drop as your body trembles violently beneath him.

your chest heaves, your vision blurring, but even through the haze, you can feel him still grinding against the couch, still so fucking hard and desperate, all because of you.

your brain is slow. dial-up connection slow. everything feels like it’s underwater, your body floating somewhere between consciousness and the best orgasm-induced coma of your life. it’s warm, so warm, like your body is still riding out the fever of your high, tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth, throat dry, muscles heavy like they’re full of sand.

you don’t even remember when it happened—when you blacked out, when you got moved. just flashes of cool wipes dragging over your skin, a damp cloth pressed between your thighs, seungcheol’s hands gentle, careful, murmuring something you were too gone to comprehend. like déjà vu, like something out of a dream.

but you’re awake now. sort of. and you’re in his bed.

the sheets are soft, cool against your fevered skin, and it feels so good that you can’t help the tired, pleased moan that slips past your lips, involuntary, barely conscious.

but it’s enough to make him look at you.

you blink, vision still a little hazy, but yeah, that’s definitely seungcheol, sitting at his desk, dressed in a loose shirt and sweats, hair damp, probably from a shower. there’s a slight smirk on his lips, but his eyes are soft as they sweep over you, taking in the way you’re still half-buried in his sheets, limbs heavy, body relaxed.

then it hits you.

the documents.

joshua.

fuck.

your eyes widen, and you jolt up too fast, regretting it immediately when the soreness between your thighs protests, a sharp ache shooting up your spine. “fuck—”

seungcheol’s already up, one hand pressing to your shoulder, guiding you back down before you can do any more damage. “hey, hey, relax. you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“the—documents,” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut again as the exhaustion creeps back in. “joshua.”

he chuckles, and you open your eyes just in time to see him shaking a small stack of papers in his hand. “yeah, yeah. i got it. sent them over while you were passed out.”

you frown, groggy. “i was supposed to send them.”

“and joshua needs to get used to me handling shit for you,” he says, grinning as he sets the papers down. “besides, he’d probably prefer not to get another noise complaint under his name.”

your face heats up instantly. “oh my god.”

“mhmm,” seungcheol hums, tilting his head. “wanna know how loud you were?”

“no.”

he laughs, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, thumb tracing your cheek. “then go back to sleep, baby.”

you glare at him. or, at least, you try to. it’s weak, and he knows it, because all it takes is one more stroke of his thumb before your eyes flutter shut again, body sinking further into his bed.

yeah. you can fight him about the joshua thing later. maybe. probably not.

[themineknight]

My mother was a woman who would, when asked, sit you down to explain a concept you didn't understand, in ways she hoped you would understand. And even though she worked a full-time job while my dad was abroad for several years for work, when she got home, she was a beacon of warmth, and comfort, and understanding. My father was not. When he came home, he was overwhelmed. Burned out. Angry. I know now that none of it was ever malicious, but even so: My dad was not the rock in my life he could have been. Whenever any of my siblings, or me, had an issue, we would go to my mom. She would fight tooth and nail for us to be safe, would never condescend our curiosity, never balk at questions, only say that to answer them would take too long... but she'd always get back around to it. When she made a promise, she would keep it, come hell or high water. My dad came around, eventually. He learned how to corral his children, how to play with us, how to help us, support our curiosity, support us when we needed him. He became, at the end of the day, an amazing father, and is to this day one of the only people I would ever trust with my entire being. But even so... my dad is still terrifying. I trust him, and I love him... but despite having come to understand, forgive, and process everything over the years, the scars of being a tiny human too scared to talk to one of her parents may never fully go away. By scaring your children, all you do is create people who will go to great lengths not to be scared anymore. Not to be hurt again. Not to let anyone down again. Not to be different. They will forever carry that fear with them, will forever feel like they have somehow failed to be the best people they could have been... will forever feel like they might somehow, sometimes, or maybe always, be unworthy of truly being loved. Do not scare the tiny humans. Be the people they can rely on to teach them how to navigate the world. Be the people to show them that they can always rely on you if they need someone. Bring them the safety they need, be ready to fight the battles they may not be able to... and they will forever be thankful for having lived a wonderful childhood.

[fireinmoonshot]

strawberry danishes | joaquin torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: Joaquin Torres has a crush on the cute girl that comes to the coffee shop he frequents. Little does he know, you've been crushing on him too. He's never regretted eating a strawberry danish more than the day you finally come up to him and start a conversation. Warnings: TW for food/coffee etc. Word Count: 2.7k A/N: I saw Captain America: Brave New World last Friday and honestly I spent the entire time staring at Joaquin. I've loved him since TFATWS but I loved seeing more of him in this movie and I immediately wanted to write for him after but I was away for the weekend without my laptop, so literally as soon as I was home I knew I needed to start working on something for him. This was inspired by the song Coffee Cake by Benson Boone. I really hope you enjoy and please let me know if you guys want me to write more for Joaquin!

Joaquin Torres knew your coffee order before he even knew your name.

It wasn’t in a creepy way – he wasn’t stalking you or anything. The two of you just happened to frequent the same coffee shop. Whenever Joaquin was home, he had a routine of stopping by a local cafe by the park near his apartment for a coffee and a pastry after his morning run. The small cafe obviously had a place in your morning routine too.

The first time he saw you he couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous you were, and it wasn’t just the fact that the sun was shining through the window beside you, coating you in the warm, golden light. He was a fairly confident person but for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to approach you that day and talk to you.

He told himself that he’d do it the next time he saw you, but the next time you were in and out of the cafe so quickly he barely even saw you from his spot across the room, his mouth full of a bite of blueberry danish. 

Then, work called him away and he was gone for weeks. Any time he made himself a coffee over the next few weeks, he thought of you. He was fully aware that it was probably incredibly creepy of him to be doing so – he didn’t know the first thing about you, and you had no idea who he was – but he had a crush. He had to admit that to himself.

When he was back home, he looked forward to his morning coffee more than anything simply because of the chance that he might see you. Luck happened to be in his favour, too, as when he walked in and joined the line to order, you had lined up behind him. He had no idea, of course, until he’d ordered and stepped off to the side. The poor boy had almost choked on air itself when he turned to see you ordering after him. 

“Just an iced chocolate to-go, please,” you said.

It was the first time Joaquin had heard your voice and he was pretty certain that it was the actual sound of angels coming down from the heavens. He had to force himself to look away from you so he didn’t get caught staring. He was so stuck in his own head, focused on your beauty, that he didn’t even hear the barista calling his name and order out for collection. 

He felt a slight tap on his shoulder and looked down to see you looking up at him. 

“Hey,” Joaquin managed, his voice a little breathless. Oh, this was so embarrassing. The first thing he can think to say to you when you initiate a conversation with him and it’s hey? 

You pointed towards the counter. “I think that’s your order. The barista keeps looking at you when he’s calling out Joaquin.” 

Joaquin cleared his throat. “Oh, right. Thanks.” He chuckled awkwardly and moved to grab his coffee, planning to turn around afterwards and introduce himself properly. By the way, the name is Torres. Joaquin Torres. And what would your name be? Something beautiful, I’m sure. 

It was probably for the best that by the time he turned around – oblivious to the death stare the barista was giving him, irritated at having to shout his name out multiple times  – you had moved across the room to take a seat at a table by the window. Now it would just look weird if he was to walk all the way over to you and introduce himself. You’d excused yourself from the conversation. 

Disappointed, Joaquin took a sip of his coffee and forced himself out of the cafe, berating himself in his thoughts the whole way. It was only when he’d gotten back to his apartment that he realised he’d left behind the pastry that he’d ordered alongside his coffee. 

More time passed and Joaquin had been working so often he hadn’t had any time to get back to the cafe. He started to wonder if possibly this was all just nothing more than a silly crush on a passer-by. That maybe, you weren’t destined to say anything more than the words that you’d shared at the cafe that day a month ago. 

Joaquin wasn’t going to stop going by his favourite cafe though. If you spoke to him, of course he’d speak back to you. But he wasn’t going to go out of his way to talk to someone that clearly wasn’t as interested in him as he was in you, judging on your past interaction. 

He settled down at a table by the window, placing the plate containing his strawberry danish down in front of him. It wasn’t long before the staff brought over the coffee he’d ordered and he could dig into his danish without being interrupted. He’d missed these mornings while he’d been working. There wasn’t much else that filled him quite like the peace he had when he was in the cafe. 

He wasn’t watching the door when you walked into the cafe and went to order. He was too preoccupied with his danish, taking a rather large bite of it and almost moaning at the taste of it. There was nothing as good as a danish from this place, he was sure of it.

He was still too busy eating the danish to notice you walking over to his table, a plate of your own in your hands. It was only when he noticed someone stood beside the table that he looked up, swallowing the mouthful of danish – and luckily not choking on it as his eyes settled on you. He’d assumed it might have been another member of staff, maybe they’d given him the wrong coffee, but he had not expected you.

“You’re in my seat,” you said simply, looking down at the man and trying so hardly not to smile at the sight of him, sitting there looking up at you with wide eyes and sugar all around his mouth and even on the tip of his nose. 

Joaquin was lost for words and it took him a moment to find something to say. “You can sit here! I didn’t realise this was your seat. Do you want me to move? Hang on, let me just get this sugar off my hands and I’ll–”

“Hey, it’s fine. Really,” you smiled, pulling the chair out on the opposite side of the table and moving to sit down “You can stay here. Actually, I’ve kind of been waiting to have an excuse to talk to you, so thanks for sitting in my seat. Joaquin, right?”

He stared at you for a moment. “How do you know my name?” He didn’t even know your name, so how was it possible that you knew his? Unless you’d asked the barista about him… wait… you’d been waiting for an excuse to talk to him? Was his brain short circuiting? Was he dreaming? Surely he was dreaming. Under the table, he pinched the skin of his arm between his fingers… nope… not dreaming…

“Last time I saw you in here, you were spacing out and the barista was calling your name. I had to tell you that your order was being called,” you said, a little sheepishly. “I guess you don’t remember that.” Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all… he was cute, sure, but if he didn’t remember that, he clearly wasn’t as interested in you as you were in him.

Recognition sparked in Joaquin’s mind. “Oh, I do remember that! I wasn’t spacing out, I was just distracted by y– by something.” Admitting he was distracted by you was probably not the best way to start your first proper conversation. “But that makes sense now. I don’t know your name, though. I guess you listen more carefully when they call your order out.”

“I try my best,” you admitted, before introducing yourself to him properly. It was hard not to admit the fact that Joaquin was probably the cutest guy you’d ever seen, especially with the sugar on his face. “You, uh… you have some sugar on your face by the way. Here and here.” You motioned to the spots on your own face so he could tell where to wipe.

His eyes widened again as he grabbed for the napkin and started to wipe the sugar off.

“So, what were you distracted by that day?” You attempted to change the subject.

“Uhhhh…” Joaquin thought for a moment. “You know what? I actually can’t remember. It’s been a while, lots has happened between then and now, I guess.” He laughed a little. “Anyway, let’s not skip over what you said when you sat down – you’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to me? I’d like to know more about that, actually.”

He watched, intrigued and entirely enthralled by you, as you became slightly shy at his words. Like the ones you’d said had been spoken on accident and that you’d been hoping he wasn’t going to bring them up again. But if there was one thing you’d learn about Joaquin, it was that he was always going to bring up the things you thought you could forget.

“Okay, well… I’ve noticed you in the cafe a few times over the last few months and I figured we must both come here pretty often in the mornings for me to see you so often. And… well…” You trailed off, your eyes falling to the plate in front of you.

Joaquin leant forward. “You can’t just leave me on a cliffhanger.”

“I thought you were cute!” You admitted, probably a little louder than you should’ve. “I thought you were cute and I’ve been trying to get the courage to talk to you ever since I first saw you. But you haven’t been in here for a while and the last time I saw you, I chickened out of having an actual conversation with you and ran away.”

It took every part of your strength not to get up and leave the table straight away out of sheer embarrassment. Admitting to a total stranger that you thought they were cute was not the kind of thing that you usually did. But something kept drawing you to Joaquin and today you’d just been given the perfect opportunity to do something about it.

You couldn’t meet his eyes for a while, meaning you missed the look of shock on his face and the way his face gradually broke out into a smile of disbelief. You thought he was cute? He thought you were cute! Luck had somehow been on his side today.

“You think I’m cute?” Joaquin replied, a smirk on his lips and the confidence he’d been missing over the last few months whenever he was around you returning immediately. 

Your eyes flickered up to his, surprised to see that he actually seemed to be happy about it. “Well, yeah…” 

Joaquin couldn’t keep the stupid smile off his face. “I swear I’m not just saying this, but I’ve been trying to get the confidence to talk to you, too. I’m a confident guy but for some reason, every time I’ve seen you in here I suddenly become the least confident man on earth.” 

You didn’t doubt his words. They seemed completely truthful and you knew right away that Joaquin was not the kind of guy to lie to you. He was inherently honest. 

“I haven’t been in here for a while cause of work,” Joaquin continued. “I’m in the Air Force. Means I’m not home too often, so I make the most of it when I am.” He decided to leave out the part about him practically being an Avenger. That was something he could ease you into. He had a feeling that dropping the whole Oh yeah, by the way I’m also the new Falcon would scare you off more than intrigue you.

“Well, that explains why I haven’t seen you lately,” you nodded. “So, you just come here for breakfast when you’re in town?”

He nodded. “I have a bit of a routine of a coffee and a danish after my morning run. I’m pretty glad that I do now, especially since you came to talk to me today. Even if I had sugar all over my face and embarrassed the hell outta myself when you did.” 

Joaquin was pretty sure he was never going to live that down. It was certainly something that Sam Wilson was never going to hear about or he would tease him about it for the rest of his life, he was sure of that. 

You laughed. “Okay, but the sugar on your face was actually kind of cute, and if I knew you better I would have just wiped it off for you instead of embarrassing you by telling you so you had to do it yourself.”

“Why don’t we get to know each other better then?” Joaquin saw his chance and took it. “Let me take you out on a date, somewhere that isn’t this coffee shop and somewhere I won’t eat something that covers my face in sugar. What do you say?”

He was pretty confident that you were going to say yes, especially when he saw your lips curl into a smile. He could almost see the cogs turning in your mind as you tried to figure out what to say to answer him. 

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise I’m not some kind of creep – and yes, I’m well aware that is exactly what someone who is a creep would say – but I’m really not,” he laughed. “All I am is a guy who’s been crushing on the cute girl who keeps coming into my coffee shop and trying to convince myself to talk to her.”

“Okay, okay – fine, I’ll go on a proper date with you,” you agreed, unable to keep it in any longer. Watching him try and convince you was so incredibly endearing but you couldn’t keep him waiting when he was clearly so eager to take you out.

Joaquin grinned. “So… can I pick you up at 7, then?”

“Tonight?” 

“You got other plans?”

You shook your head. “No, I just didn’t expect you to be so quick with it.”

“Well, with my job, I could be gone tomorrow and I feel like we’ve already wasted enough time, don’t you? I mean… we’ve both liked each other for months without knowing a single thing about each other apart from our coffee orders. I’d like to change that,” he admitted.

“All right,” you agreed with a nod. “You’ll pick me up at 7. But right now, I am going to eat this pastry that’s been sitting here in front of me the whole time and I’ll let you finish your danish cause after all, you did steal my seat and I did come here to eat some breakfast.”

Joaquin chuckled and picked up his danish again. “You promise to tell me if I get sugar all over my face again?”

“Maybe,” you grin. “Like I said, you looked pretty cute with sugar all over your face.”

He shook his head and took a bite of his danish. He’d thought he wasn’t going to live this down if Sam ever found out about it, but he hadn’t counted on you being one to keep reminding him about it. But… you found it cute, so Joaquin was pretty sure he could live with that… hearing you calling him cute. 

You smiled to yourself as you watched him bite into the danish and end up with sugar on his face again. It wasn’t everywhere like it had been before but it was on the corner of his mouth. 

He looked over at you. “I have sugar on my face again, don’t I?”

“You trying to get me to tell you that I think you’re cute again, Joaquin?” 

“Can you blame a guy for liking the fact that a pretty girl thinks he’s cute?”

Smiling, you reached over and swiped your finger over the corner of his mouth, removing the sugar from it. You almost laughed at the way Joaquin froze and the look of shock on his face. He was pretty sure he’d just died and gone to heaven, actually. 

“You just had a little bit of sugar there,” you hummed, picking your own danish up.

Joaquin let out a long, shaky breath. Who knew a strawberry danish could be so dangerous?

[chuulyssa]

there’s glitter on the floor after the party !

teaser it’s your birthday tonight, but do they remember, or care? pair gojo, nanami, geto, toji, sukuna x reader cw angst, just pure torture™, not proofread !

a/n it’s my birthday on 28th wooohoooo ! i wanted to be a sad girl tho *lana intensifies* let’s hope my parents take some notes and NOT do this

GOJO

for someone who liked cakes, sweets and celebrations so much, you didn’t think it would take this long for satoru to realize what day it was. you didn’t want to remind him either; he should remember it on his own, shouldn’t he? moreover, you had hated the look on his face when you reminded him of the anniversary date the two of you had planned together. he had panicked so hard and begun checking his notes and calendars, it was a pathetic sight, honestly.

“what?” his face had fallen immediately.

“don’t you remember?”

“uh, sweets, what exactly am i supposed to remember?” he had said.

he was just busy. but you had agreed upon this when you began dating him. not everyone was the strongest sorcerer in the world, not everyone had the number of things to do that he did.

“no, it’s fine.”

“you sure?” he had asked.

“yeah, it’s nothing, really.”

but you were quite sure he hadn’t forgotten. not this time. because you had checked in on his calendar a week before this, and today was marked rightly “her birthday” with a shit ton of emojis. so what was taking so long? maybe he was planning a surprise party? whatever it was, you didn’t think the prank needed to be dragged on for so long. since he remembered it, he ought to come out and celebrate already. and if he didn’t, well, whatever. you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when you saw that the party he kept was for someone else, some other girl, no

NANAMI

you’d been waiting for hours at this point. and it was nanami, the kento nanami. kento was never late, how could he be? if there was something he always relied on it was his ability to tell the time, whether it was his refusal to work overtime or his arrival on your dates before you.

so where was he now? he had hurried off in the morning before you had gotten a word out.

“i’m terribly sorry, sweetheart, i have to leave early today,” he had planted a quick kiss on your forehead.

“okay, okay,” you had blinked in confusion at his hurry. “where are you going though?”

“i have decided something.”

“decided what?”

he’d sighed cryptically. what was he hiding?

“it’s best if you didn’t know.”

“excuse me?”

he’d shaken his head and just… left? he hadn’t even wished you, not the night before, not the morning after. and just what had he decided? you were hurt, of course you were. where was he going in such a hurry? you had felt he had been growing distant from you for long now. but it did not make the pain of being left alone on your fucking birthday any better. but what could you do either way now? you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when you saw that he had returned to his sorcerer status, and completely abandoned all the plans the two of you had made for your future, no

GETO

he was too in love with his cult to notice, of course he was. suguru dumbass geto. of course it was his cult’s birthday today, who were you even? when he had first told you, to prevent yourself from crashing the fuck out, you had tried to shut up.

“oh.”

“yeah, so are you joining us tonight?” he had asked, as if he was bestowing an honour upon you by inviting you to his stupid party.

“i didn’t know you kept birthdays for your cult, haha,” please get the hint, you had prayed.

“we do, yes. you will join us tonight, hm? i want to take you there as my date.”

“oh, no, no i don’t think i will, actually.”

“huh, why not? you had been looking forward to this day for a long time, hadn’t you?”

yeah, you had. obviously you had. but when you were jumping around two weeks ago talking excitedly about a ‘birthday’, you did not mean it to be his cult’s day. was that too hard to notice? but all was okay, of course. ‘how could you ruin such a long relationship over a forgotten birthday?’ you were sure that’s what the older women of the cult would talk about if they knew. and besides, you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when he had decided to take another woman as his date for the event, showing that you were completely replaceable to him, no

TOJI

he had a mission planned out conveniently at midnight, just when the clock would strike 12 and you’d be a year older. but what could you say? it wasn’t as if it was in his control when someone wanted a person to die or not, he was just the man doing the job.

so you had let it go. one hour, two hours, twelve hours, eighteen hours, where the fuck was he?

“hey, sorry ma,” there was loud cheering from his side of the phone.

“where are you?”

“got this race i wanted to bet on actually—”

“shut up, no seriously, shut the fuck up, toji—”

“what? are you okay?”

“no i’m not, what the fuck—”

there was another cheer of celebration from his side. then silence.

“calm d—”

you hung up. 6pm and he was nowhere. you were sure even if he didn’t pick your call up that time. after this, he would go out drinking with shiu all night long, then come back home drunk and wobbling around, mumbling the tune to ‘happy birthday’ if he realized what day it was, and even then, you thought, you were being too optimistic with that last part. but he was an assassin, and you knew that. didn’t he deserve some happiness in life too? and you, you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when everyone tried to remind him of the day but he was too far gone to know, no

SUKUNA

what did you expect? your chamber to be full of decorations? the dining room to be laid with the most beautiful gifts ever? the corridors to be filled with balloons? though none of that was here, the mere mental image of sukuna blowing up balloons and trying not to pop them with his nails was funny.

funny. everything that could make your mind get off right now was funny. blowing the fire of your candelabrum out, leaving behind just smoke and discomfort. funny. pretending the dinner you had been served for the night was your highly expensive banquet designed just for tonight. funny. acting as if sukuna was right by your side, giggling, as if he didn’t always behave like human traditions meant nothing to him. funny.

“it’s my birthday, you know.”

“birthday? alright. what of it?”

“uh, birthday birthday? shouldn’t you be celebrating it?”

“what is there to celebrate? it is merely a day, no?” he had said it so simply that it made you backtrack.

“yes but—”

“and besides, you are only growing older. it would’ve been remarkable and truly something to celebrate if you had been growing younger by the days,” he chuckled, turning away from you to make his way to the council.

you laughed. funny. he was right though, wasn’t he? you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when he knew, he knew and he could not care less, showing his disdain for it too, no

of course, of course you had many other birthdays, many other years yet to come.

but not when it came at the expense of your self-respect, and you had to make a choice between loving and loving yourself, no

[matchatarot]

Hi my little bunny! To pick a pile don’t overthink it and chose the one that draws you in the most while thinking about the reading’s intent. For my first ever tumblr tarot reading I decided to connect with your spirit team and ask them what message they would like to share with you. Hope it resonates! Love, Matcha ♡

Pile 1 ₊˚. ༄

My love stop being so hard on yourself! We love you so much! Everything you need is in your own heart, your light is so loving, so beautiful, so healing, so creative, let it out! Stop looking at other’s expectations of who they want you to be and instead be guided by your inner light. You are not stuck like you think you are! You have everything you need right now. Set yourself free from those mental chains. You are your own savior. Spend time with yourself, not just spending time alone, actually get to know yourself. You need to integrate the shadows, get to know the dark parts of yourself but also get to know what makes your heart full of love and what makes you shine. You don’t need to address other’s doubts when it comes to your path. You’ re the one that knows best.

11:11 333 369hz

Pile 2 ୭̥° ✧

You did it! You listened to us! You’ve let go of that thing that kept holding you back and we’re so proud of you. You don’t have to look back, because you did what had to be done and now so much is coming for you! If you knew how many great things we have prepared for your life you would simply not believe it. Get ready! You changed for the best! The new You deserves compensation for all the work you did to better yourself, to be kind. You give hope to others, you’re a treasure, we’re so lucky to have you on earth. Don’t worry, you did the hard work and now your blessings are coming, settle in your new mindset, your new body. You’re more connected to your soul than you’ve ever been. Balance, justice, harmony and love are coming your way. Don’t stop dreaming, continue evolving.

Wild World by Cat Steven’s, 222 888

Pile 3 ‧₊˚♡

Take a deep breath with me please. There’s something heavy in your energy, there’s something you need to address that you’ve been scared of. But there’s no answers in looking away. Make your research, ask the opinions of your peers, whatever you do start putting your energy in solving this matter, you need it to continue building your future. There’s an addiction controlling your thoughts, what is it? I think you need to talk to someone before you start heading in the wrong direction, there’s some work you’re doing that can’t bare any fruits because you’re not addressing that one thing. The anxiety, the fears are just gonna get worse if you don’t. Please drink enough water and get enough rest. Tune yourself to your intuition. You got this! We love you.

555 888 333 639hz

decks used for this reading: l’oracle du chemin spirituel by Valérie Defour & Valérie Saussez, the angel’s tarot by Doreen Virtue & Radleigh Valentine, modern witch tarot deck by Lisa Steele

[sunsburns]

wait no because trying to compete w joaquin to look the best in sams eyes? that 100% would happen.

always showing up to work early if sam needed you there, always doing things "better" than the other to be picked to go out on missions, but in reality both of you were always gonna go, sam just likes to rile you both up!!!

you and joaquin arguing is sams entertainment, but he would always call you out on how y'all should just kiss or smthn, just so you would both get out of his hair, y'all are kiss asses 🙂‍↕️

THE biggest ass kissers the world has ever fucking seen!!!

it starts with small things.

beating joaquín torres to the debriefing room first, standing at attention just a little straighter when sam walks in. being the first to volunteer for a recon mission, making sure your reports are turned in before joaquín’s—little victories, small triumphs that keep the score tilting just slightly in your favour.

and joaquín? oh, he knows what you’re doing. he feels the competition just as strongly, meeting you beat for beat, smirk for smirk. if you show up early, he shows up earlier. if you get in a well-placed quip that makes sam chuckle, joaquín makes sure to drop a comment that gets him a full laugh, a shoulder clap.

sam catches on quickly, because of course he does. he thrives off of it, if anything, watching you and joaquín try to one-up each other over the most mundane things with the kind of patience only an older brother figure can have. half the time, he doesn’t even need to pit you against each other; you do that all on your own.

but here’s the thing—you and joaquín don’t actually hate each other. if anything, there’s an underlying respect, an unspoken acknowledgment of how damn good the other is at what they do. on the field, you’re an unstoppable duo, reading each other without a word, moving in sync in a way that only comes from deep familiarity. you know each other’s strengths, weaknesses, the little things that make the other tick—and you know exactly how to push each other’s buttons, whether it’s to provoke or distract.

and sam? oh, he knows it too.

it was why he has the two of you as his second hand. he sees how well you work together, how efficient things become when you’re not locked in some petty competition. hell, sometimes he even thinks you two are kinda cute together—just too damn stubborn to admit it.

but sometimes, sam stirs the pot just for fun. like when he lets it slip that he needs a file retrieved from the archives, and suddenly, you and joaquín are racing through the hallways, elbowing each other out of the way, nearly colliding into bucky in the process. or when he casually mentions needing someone to drive him to a meeting, and next thing he knows, both of you are already in the car, fighting over who gets to drive.

“y’all are exhausting,” sam sighs one day, watching as you and joaquín argue over who got the better shot during training with isaiah. he leans back in his chair, eyes flicking between you. “why don’t you just kiss already and get out of my face?”

that shuts both of you up real quick. joaquín’s face flushes, his lips parting like he wants to argue but can’t quite find the words. you, on the other hand, scoff, rolling your eyes before looking anywhere but at him.

sam just grins, kicking his feet up onto the table. “uh-huh. that’s what i thought.”

bucky, passing by with his coffee, gives sam a long look. “aren’t you being too hard on those kids?”

“nah,” sam replies easily, smirking. “they love it.”

[darkwicks]

Daydreaming

He knows you’ll always do your best to listen to him, but he prefers it this way. How else will he be able to get lost in you?

PAIRING.⠀Xia Yizhou | Caleb x Reader

CONTENT.⠀gender neutral reader | established relationship, fluff, nerd4nerd, Star Wars <3 | ~0,7k words

A/N.⠀I admit this is very very self-indulgent but I hope someone out there can enjoy it regardless :)

available on AO3 | reblogs and comments are always appreciated!!

Rambling about your interests is a regular occurrence, but you’ve been more withdrawn as of late.

You never need to explain to him—he knows you like the back of his hand. Stress from your health and studies, your insecurity getting the best of you; part of him blames himself for being so distant this week. Being the Colonel comes with a massive workload. Though Caleb is more than capable of finishing his tasks successfully and punctually, sometimes he’s needed in several places at once. You’ve been buried in work yourself, going to sleep even earlier because of tiredness.

There haven’t been many chances to spend time together lately, which is why he just had to grab this chance as soon as it became available.

A video on the television is paused in favour of you explaining it to him, moving your hands animatedly. Your eyes are practically twinkling as you chatter away. He’s still listening attentively (multiverses and portals, or something like that) but it’s hard trying not to get lost in how happy you look. He thinks it’s the most radiant you’ve appeared in days.

It’s in moments like these that Caleb falls a little more in love with you.

He lets out a quiet, dreamy sigh as he leans against the cushions. He’s tuning out the world around him, and the only voice he hears is yours. You’re smiling so wide and you’re glowing, exuding warmth and joy in waves. He snaps himself back to the present when you suddenly stop and stare at him with worry in your eyes, your brows furrowing in concern.

“Am I boring you?” you blurt out. The urge to flick your forehead for immediately jumping to such a negative conclusion is strong. He opts for affectionately ruffling your hair instead, resting his hand on the top of your head.

“Of course not. I’m still listening,” he says. He smiles mischievously. “Nerd.”

“I’m the nerd?” you gasp in exaggerated incredulity, swatting his hand away in retaliation. “You’re the one with a bunch of LEGO kits!”

“And I bought them because you wanted them,” he retorts, amused. “You wanted to build the Death Star together on Valentine’s day. Only nerds pick that over going to the mall.”

“It’s more fun because there’s nothing at the mall,” you grumble. “And you wanted the Millennium Falcon. You’re just as much of a nerd as I am.”

He chuckles. “Whatever you say, pipsqueak.”

“Caleb!”

You shove him while giggling, eyes crinkling into little curved moons. He feigns agony, clutching his shoulder and letting out a playful grunt. The action only makes you laugh harder and shove him again before slumping against him with a huff.

“I still can’t believe you actually like listening to me ramble,” you sigh once you’ve cooled down, peering up at him. “Don’t you get tired?”

“I like seeing you happy,” Caleb says simply. You turn your head away and bite back a smile, making his lips curl into a smile of his own. You’re so easily flustered over the smallest things. It’s endearing to him. “What?”

“You know I’d listen to you talk about planes too, right? Even if I don’t understand it?” you ask, returning your gaze to him. “I feel bad making you listen to my nonsense.”

He shrugs. “It’s not nonsense if it makes you happy.”

Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, he pulls you closer. You make yourself comfortable by his side, reaching out to lace your fingers together. You bring his hand up to your lips and press a chaste kiss on it, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his skin. He exhales slowly, filled with contentment. He knows you’ll always do your best to listen to him, but he prefers it this way. How else will he be able to get lost in you?

“So. Do you want to tell me about this character?”

You immediately light up and nod, clapping your hands together in excitement. As you begin your introduction, he finds himself staring at you again, tuning out the world around him except for you. He’s always happy to listen, but you’ll have to excuse him just this once—he’s falling in love with you all over again.

[peachyparkerr]

spring into summer | art donaldson x female! reader

or loving art even if it hurts <3

based off the song by lizzy mcalpine!

tags: yearning, fluff, angst, no use of y/n, stanford!art to atlanta!art, love "triangle", kissing and stuff, maybe not 100% true to the lyrics might even be out of order, hopefully this is not too long and not too many mistakes lol i dont want to proofread, i made my own challengers timeline because i can, challengers will always be on the mind <3

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n i hope you enjoy <3 plz be kind to me

Spring into summer, and the winter's gone I try to hold on to it, but the current's too strong Somebody finds me in the state I am Love you like I mean it when I know I can't

it’s a rainy day in late february at stanford. it’s cold, the fog’s coming in thick over the trees, and it’s hard not slip on the ground. all outdoor sports practices have been canceled or moved inside, and it’s probably the worst day to not have an umbrella or a rain jacket. art’s team practice had been canceled but he still wanted to work on his serve so he decided to practice at the indoor courts, he needed to blow off steam after being around patrick and tashi so much these days. their relationship is really weighing art down these days, so getting in the practice instead of taking a break seemed like an obvious time killer, he just hadn’t realized it was pouring this much. there was no way he was going to make it all the way to his dorm without being majorly drenched, so he decides to tackle the rain for the shorter walk between the indoor courts and the library and wait it out there. he’s definitely drenched when he enters the building, and it could be worse so he accepts it. the library’s fairly empty but he can’t quite decide where he wants to sit and if he actually wanted to do any studying at all, and then he sees you.

you, who is sitting cross legged in one of the big window nooks, headphones on with a book and laptop in your lap and in front of you but long forgotten as you watch the rain fall. he's seen you around before, but knows nothing about you, but you've always caught his eye. and seeing you right now watching the rain, in your own little world, is making his heart skip a beat more than it usually does when he sees you. suddenly, however much it sucks for him to always be around his best friend and his best friend's girlfriend that he secretly has been pining for all this time doesn't even matter to him. he doesn't even know your name, not yet at least, but he decides that he needs to. his legs are moving on their own accord as he makes his way to sit opposite of you in the nook.

he doesn't say anything at first, doesn't even ask if it's okay to sit there he just does even tho there are many open spots, and after what feels like forever of just looking at you looking out the window, you finally look his way.

"hi" he manages to speak out, voice just barely over a whisper.

"hi." you say back taking off your headphones. you have a bit of a confused look on your face but otherwise friendly. he'd never even heard your voice before but he thinks it's the most wonderful thing he's ever heard.

"i'm--" he goes to introduce himself nervously, but you interrupt him.

"i know who you are, art." you point out all soft and sweet and now he's embarrassed that he doesn't know who you are.

"you do?" he's flushing and running a hand through his wet hair.

"of course i do. we had a class together last semester and this one. you're also on the tennis team, right?" you laugh and say with ease. he's even more embarrassed now that he hasn't realized that he's had class with you this whole time but doesn't know your name, but the fact you're still giving him the time of day is encouragement enough for him to not run away right now.

he asks for your name and you give it to him with a smile and shake his hand. your hand fits perfectly in his, and he thinks your name is like a melody. the conversation that strikes up between the two of you is casual and easy, and you make him laugh in a way he hasn't in awhile. you tease him for not bringing an umbrella on the rainiest day, and he shakes his wet curls in your face like a dog just so he can hear your laugh again. if he could bottle up the sound and save it forever he would. but you offer to share your umbrella since as it turns out, you don't live that far away from him, and who is he to say no?

you guys huddle under the shared umbrella as you walk through the pouring rain, your hands brushing each other, making him feel all sorts of things. he's been in love with tashi all this time even if she can't be his, but something about your smile and simple kindness has him thinking just maybe he's not doomed at love. maybe he's getting ahead of himself, but as you guys reach his place and he insists on making it up to you for sharing your umbrella, he can't help but think this could be something good. who cares about tashi and patrick anyway?

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Hold it against me, cool to the touch Nobody knows what it's like to be us Somebody finds me in the shallow end Love you like I mean it just because I can

it starts slow. art can't quite decipher where his feelings for tashi end and where his growing ones for you begin, but he knows that he's drawn to you in a way he's never experienced before. he needed a distraction but thats not just what you are, what you're becoming to him, he thinks.

so he seeks you out more. finds a way to sit next to you in class. shares his notes with you, not that you need notes from him but he offers anyways. notices when you're feeling tired in class so he suggests getting coffee or a bite to eat after. sometimes you say yes, but other times you say no. you know he spends a lot of time with tashi duncan, star tennis player of the whole university, and sure she's dating his best friend, but you've heard the rumors. art's cute, but you don't want to get caught up in whatever that is.

but art's not just cute, he's sweet and effortlessly charming. he somehow just knows when you don't bring a drink to class and has one for you. he seeks you out in the library even though you know he's not really a scholar, and he offers to share his umbrella when its raining, which he always remembers to carry around now, even if its not raining hard, and even if he knows you have your own.

he's spending more time with you than he is with patrick and tashi. they don't really mind, even if part of them wonders what's going on with him. them not really minding has art feeling weird, because part of him still wants them to care, he wants tashi to care. but the rest of him is just glad that he's getting you to give him a chance. when it comes to you, the rest of the world seems to fade away for him.

before you even realize it, you've started to say yes to him every time he asks you to do something. you don't wait for him to seek you out in the library, you ask him to join you. you "forget" your umbrella just so you guys can share his. he takes the opportunities presented to him to shyly keep an arm around you or hold your hand, and when you don't tell him not to, he's never shy again.

the two of you are dating, even if it's not explicitly said. it's june now, and it seems like everything's really good and he's barely even thinking about tashi anymore. you're a welcome distraction but you're also everything and more to him. he wants to make you his, officially, and he's scared out of his mind to put a label on it but nothing would make him happier.

he plans this nice picnic on a rare sunny day. after indulging in some of your favorite snacks, he's laying on his back on the blanket, a baseball cap you got him on his head blocking the sun from his eyes, and you're on your stomach but resting your head on your hands on his chest, and you guys mindlessly talking about something. the sun's shining down on you so perfectly, the wind in your hair. he has no idea what you're saying at this point because he just can't stop looking at you. you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and he longs to be with you even if you weren't with him. he feels so warm inside and out when he's with you.

he moves hair out of your face and he's interrupting whatever you're saying before he even realizes what he's saying.

"do you want to be my girlfriend?" he asks suddenly, still moving hair behind your ear. this wasn't part of the plan he had in mind today but here goes nothing.

"what?" you question with a confused and disbelieving laugh. he realizes what he's asked but he doesn't take it back, just smiles at you.

"i want to be your boyfriend, so i was just wondering if you'd want to be my girlfriend. like officially." he repeats, a little shy, a little nervous, albeit anticipating what you have to say.

"hmm like officially?" you tease, sitting up a bit, but smiling at him nonetheless.

"yea, like officially." he says simply, sitting up too, and gazing at you with that stupid grin he always has when he thinks knows he's getting what he wants.

you answer him by turning the hat on his head that you got him backwards and kissing him, soft and sweet. it's not the first time, but its definitely better than all the other times. he cups your face and kisses you back slow, happily and deeply. you hold a hand over his, your touch making him melt as usual. maybe everything is going to be fine.

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Taking a picture of all the people close to us Head below the surface, almost never certain of the truth (mm) I'm always, forever, runnin' back to you (you, ooh) Runnin' back to you (ooh) Runnin' back to you

you had become a plus one to art's place in his little trio. he had made it a point to include you whenever it felt like it was something he thought would be good. patrick was kind to you and was always willing to spill art's secrets to you. tashi talked to you, was friendly enough, but it's not like you were friends outside of this. you didn't have anything in common outside of your boyfriends. you didn't need her approval, but sometimes it felt like art did. you didn't want to question it, at least not out loud. it was just weird when you would go to his matches and after talking to you he'd ask her what she thought. maybe it's 'cause you're not a tennis player. that had to be the only reason. right?

but he was glad to have you come anyways. when you'd join for hangouts he he always said he played better when you were there. with you, he could hold his head high on and off the court. he wasn't always sure of himself in life or when playing tennis, but if he was almost certain of one thing it was that his heart beat for you. he kissed you like you were the oxygen filling his lungs before every match, always running to wrap you up in his arms as soon as it was over, win or lose. he always assured you you were his good luck charm, his best girl, the most important thing to him besides tennis. and you believed him. even when sometimes it felt weird to take pictures of just him and patrick and tashi when celebrating a win. they were important to him, you understood that, you just wanted to feel important too.

patrick and tashi weren't perfect individuals or a perfect pair but they fit. when he was away you didn't think it was that weird for art and tashi to get lunch just the two of them. art would relay to you that patrick and her sometimes fought, mostly about tennis, but other stupid stuff, and lunch was just a way for him to check in on her for his best friend since he couldn't be around. it was the truth. at least what he believed it was.

but when her injury happened, and patrick and her broke up, patrick's presence in art's life disappeared too. art wouldn't explain so you didn't want to pry more. you and art were still together, but this pit in your stomach started to form the more he was there for her during this tough time. he started being late or missing plans with you because he wanted to help her get back on the court or she didn't want to go to her physical therapy but obviously needed to so he'd take her to make sure she went.

one day, you and him were sat in your room. him on your bed, you leaning against your desk, keeping a distance from him. he wanted to reach out to you and pull you into his arms, make it all go away and show you that you were the one he wanted, but he knew he'd been messing up. you guys were supposed to do stuff today, but that didn't happen because he was with her.

"she had a rough day. i just wanted to be there for her." he said, defending himself after missing yet another hangout with you. he did feel guilty. he loved you. more than he could really put into words, but this felt like something he needed to do for her.

"i get that, i was just really looking forward to our plans. and you didn't call so i was just waiting around." you explained. you weren't mad, just disappointed, again.

"i promise we can go tomorrow. just you and me, i'll make it up to you." he pleaded, standing up and grabbing your hands. "i'm sorry. it won't happen again." he rested his forehead against yours, urging you to look at him. he believed in what he was saying. he knew he was pushing you away unintentionally, and he hated it, he just didn't know how to fix it sometimes. he just hoped it would work itself out and he didn't have to lose you. after all, he always came back to you at the end of the day.

"okay, tomorrow then." you sigh out softly, squeezing your eyes shut and squeezing his hands in yours three times as if to say the three words that seem impossible to say these days. he brings your hands to his mouth to adorn each individual knuckle with a kiss, before he presses a lingering one your forehead and hugs you, trying to make it all better.

and the next day, he follows through with his promise. but something has shifted. you both can't quite put your fingers on it, but it's there hanging over your heads.

he doesn't miss any more hangouts, but the amount of hangouts that get planned decrease. it's clear that tashi's not going to play tennis again. and she probably does need someone to lean on, more than she'd like to admit. sometimes she's seeking him out, but more often than not she doesn't have to because he's going to her anyway. you can't even hate her because it's not even her fault. it's not her fault that your boyfriend would do anything for her, the way he's supposed to do for you. the way he used to.

he loves you, and you love him, but it doesn't mean love is enough. not when this is happening. he'd never break up with you first, so you have to rip off the bandage.

it's february again and its raining out when you meet him outside his room. he doesn't exactly know why you asked to come here, or why you won't come in despite how wet you guys are becoming, but he has a feeling that it's not good.

"it's over, art." you say simply to him. his heart sinks in his chest, and he feels like he's going to throw up.

"why?" he asks, even if he knows the answer. he's getting drenched by the rain, the clothes he's wearing and the hat you got him sitting on his head probably getting ruined, but at least maybe the rain will conceal how he's about to cry.

"I just...can't anymore." you sound defeated and sad. he hates everything about this. he knows he's hurt you, but he doesn't know how to fight for you either.

"i'm sorry." that is all he can say, resisting every urge to pull you close and make this right.

"me too." you sigh out before leaving.

everything about this sucks. he knows a lot of it is his own fault. but he just can't do anything about it. so he goes back inside.

by june, him and tashi are already officially dating. he wishes she was you sometimes, often wonders how you're doing. but he doesn't reach out. he wanted to be the one to tell you that him and tashi were dating, he felt guilty about it and for some reason couldn't stand the idea of letting you find out through the grapevine. but he also knows you probably wouldn't want to hear from him anyway. so he doesn't.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

You're always gonna be someone that I want (oh) We have too many years between us If I could jump into the past, I'd only change one thing I'd never hurt you first, I'd never let you leave And now I'm here forever, runnin' back to you Always

two springs and summers had passed since the spring that you broke up with art. yet there's parts of him that are still holding onto the year you spent together, to the first spring he laid eyes on you in the library. him and tashi have been together for almost all this time. she never was able to play tennis again like she used to, but she'd become more than his girlfriend, now she was his coach. she shaped him into the player he needed to be to win the high profile titles he now holds. it wasn't that they weren't happy, the whole tennis community knew them to be a rising power couple, but the dynamic was different than it was with you.

tashi was beautiful, determined, rough around the edges and strategic. everybody knew her and wanted to be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her light. he'd stood by her in her darkest time and she'd been standing by him at every win. pushing him harder than he'd ever been pushed towards greatness. she knew he needed tennis, especially if he couldn't have you, even if he wouldn't admit it. she wanted the greatness she couldn't have for herself for him and she was grateful to be able to be part of tennis and his life in this way. so sometimes it was easier for her to pretend they could love each other the way they should. the way he loved you and the way she loved tennis and patrick.

which brings him to the atlanta open. spring on this part of the east coast was nice and art was trying to enjoy it even he's still been feeling cold. his grandmother had died a couple months ago, leaving him her engagement ring, telling him to save it for someone special. those two things were weighing on his mind pretty frequently, especially because when you'd heard the news you reached out to him to give your condolences. you didn't have to say anything, but you were always the bigger person. it was one of the few times you and him had spoken over the years since you broke up. every single time fleeting and politer than he knew had earned and god did it make him miss you.

you, him, and tashi weren't at stanford anymore so there was no reason to see each other anymore, but the passing moments of inevitable running into each other on campus were things he looked forward to. but now you're all graduated, he hadn't seen you in person in about two years and ever seeing you again seems like it would never happen. his only choice is to focus on his skill, winning this open and the next, and tashi. he just wasn't sure if tashi was the special person his grandmother was talking about.

he had actually been looking for tashi when he headed down to the hotel lobby. he could've sworn he saw her sitting by a window, across from patrick, but not really wanting to deal with that he turns his attention to the fan that's called his name to ask for his autograph. when he turns back she's gone and he decides to get a drink anyway to wash down the long day he's had. he orders and that's when he now spots you on the other end, suitcase in hand and ordering the same drink he knows you always have.

art doesn't even know how long he's been frozen in place, taking you in, until you notice him too. you smile and before either of you notice you're sitting next to each other at the bar. you're the same, but different, better, even, if that was even possible. he's always thought you were perfect. he knew he loved you for all that you were before, but he's sure now more than ever that he's never stopped.

by pure coincidence, you're passing through on a work trip and are being put up by your company in the very same hotel. the more the two of you talk he doesn't think this is coincidence, he's convinced its fate. that the universe wants the two of you to be together. when some hair falls in front of your face as you laugh, a sound he hadn't realized he's missed so much even if it's been on replay in his mind all this time, he instinctually moves it behind your ear. he's barely realized he's done it until you're looking at him all wide eyed and he pulls his hand back. suddenly you're pretending to be tired, telling him it was great to catch up and to give tashi your best, and trying to leave.

his heart drops to his stomach at the possibility of losing you again and before he can convince himself it's a bad idea, he's begging you to meet him here tomorrow after your conference and after his match.

"i don't know...what about tashi?" you voice your concern and he hates that you're hesitating but he understands.

"i have no right to ask you to do anything for me, but i promise that if you meet me tomorrow i'll figure it out. i just can't let you go like this. not again." he's pleading with you, grabbing your hand. your skin is cool to the touch but he's burning up inside at the chance to be with you again.

you don't know if you can trust him, and you're not sure if you can handle being hurt by him again, but you've always had a soft spot for him, so you agree anyway.

his heart's racing as he returns to his own room. seeing you is something straight out of a movie, and he knows he's making no sense but he'd messed up once and he rather take a risk now then hate himself for the rest of his life. when tashi returns with patrick's cologne on her skin and asking if that was me she caught a glimpse of earlier, her and art both know its over. they'll keep it out of the press and if he'll find another coach if that's what he wants. usually they'd fight each other on this but they know they can't go on like this.

the next day he waits anxiously. watching the clock tick away. it's only ten minutes after the time you agreed to meet and he's scared you're not coming. he's bouncing his leg as a coping mechanism until you're walking in. he's nearly falling out of his seat as he stands up to meet you.

"you came." he stammers out taking you in.

"i wasn't sure if i should." you admit quietly.

he nods and momentarily takes off the baseball cap he's wearing to run a hand through his hair nervously. you know it's the one you gave him in college but you don't point it out.

"i get it. but i'm glad you came."

"so...you wanted to talk?' you ask awkwardly, unsure of how to navigate this. he nods again and suggests walking outside.

it's quiet at first, even as your arms brush each other's as you walk. but he stops suddenly, turning towards you, knowing that if he doesn't say anything now he might never.

"i'm sorry. for everything. " he begins to say, you try to interrupt and tell him it's been a long time but he doesn't let you continue, needing to say this. "i need you to know that i regret everything. that it's over with tashi, that it has been long before today. i had this idea that i needed her and i could still have you and i was wrong. i never needed her and i wasted so much time thinking that when the only person who was ever it for me was you. "

art's words are earnest and the tears in his eyes match the ones in yours.

"i don't hold it against you. i just wish you would've fought for me. for us. all i've ever wanted was for you to see yourself the way i did." you sniffle out. art's always had this sincere side to him, but it's been so long since you've seen it that it's just a lot to process.

"i know and i'm sorry. i'm so goddamn sorry that it took me losing you to understand that i've never wanted anything else than to be yours. " he cries, cupping your face, his thumbs wiping the tears there away.

art realized too late that he should've fought for you. you, who was always so patient and kind and accepting of who he was in and out of tennis. you, who was soft and thoughtful in ways he didn't think he deserved and taught him you can want things and get them without being so hard on yourself. he was the one who was lucky to be in your light, and he couldn't even blame you for leaving. he just wished he hadn't pushed you away, that he wasn't simultaneously an ass and a coward for letting you slip through his fingers. but this is him fighting for you now, and he was praying to a god he wasn't sure he always believed in that this was his chance to make it right.

"if you'll have me, i want to fight for you. i'll spend everyday for the rest of my life fighting for you, proving to you that i want you, that...i love you. i can't lose you again." he's still holding your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes and hoping that you can understand just how much regret he's been holding in, that you'll say something that'll make him stop shaking right now.

you bring a hand to move some hair that is stuck to his face from under the brim of his hat. he leans into the touch as you rest your hand on his own cheek, shivering at how it feels after all this time.

"you're always going to be someone that i want." you say softly.

and that's all it takes for him to surge forward and press his lips to yours. from that point on, he never feels cold again. and by next summer, his grandmother's ring is on your finger.

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Summer is falling, it's a distant dream If I turn around, you're runnin' back to me

a/n i kinda hate this but i needed to write it! plz be kind! likes and reblogs appreciated!

[butch-with-a-deep-voice]

Transfem butch here! Happy to add in a few tips that help get butch masc vs. dysphoric masc

One thing that really helped me was finding a balancing-act line between men and women's clothing. Where that line is for you will differ depending on your body and frankly, how far along you are in transition. I've been on E for over 6 years now, and as a result certain clothing just straight up fits different.

Take jeans for example. I exclusively wear men's boot-cut jeans because 1) They're comfier. 2) They fit better. 3) They're more durable than most women's jeans, especially for a thicker set butch like myself. And 4) The flare of the boot cut coming down from a tighter fitting pant *really* rides that line between masculine clothing, and showing a little more "figure" for your body.

In the women's clothing vs. men's, a lot of my button ups are specifically women's blouses/button ups/flannels, not men's. Women's shirts will have a cut out portion on the hips that *really* feminizes your figure, and from there you can masc the look up with things like how you roll your sleeves, wife-pleaser undershirts, how you button it, etc. My only caveat is that most women's button ups are *horrid* for tucking in, so either make sure they're long enough to tuck, your pants are higher waisted, or use men's shirts for tucked in looks.

Another tip is don't be afraid of tighter fitting clothing, especially T-shirts and tanks. Before transitioning I often bought myself a Unisex XL or even 2XL. Partially because of dysphoria, but also partially because that's just how the clothing was supposed to fit. It was supposed to be looser on the body. Nowadays I'm usually a Unisex L, or even M. If you're earlier into transitioning and your figure has you dysphoric, that's where your open flannels and button ups come in. But trust me, tighter t-shirts are your friend.

Accessorize. My daily is three rings, septum piece, ear piercings, a very large bear paw pendant, a belt or suspenders, 1-3 bracelets, a watch, and a carabiner with enough hanging on it that I sound like a cowbutch with spurs on while I walk. Hell, most days I have more accessories on than my femme. Obviously find the balance that works best for you, but most men don't accessorize much at all. Most butches do.

While it isn't a clothing bit, hair is a big factor as well. Find the style that works for you, and hone in on that shit. Prettyboy-butch who preens their hair constantly is a beloved thing for a reason. Use it.

The other aspect is frankly, if you're a fresher out transfem butch, it's no different than other trans people and finding the right clothes for you, which is that annoying portion of time. If you're medically transitioning, you may find that the look you desire won't be achieved for quite a few years while HRT works its magic.

The final part I want to add to this is for those who may initially react negatively to some of this advice. I'm very aware that these feel like a lot of facets to constantly keep in mind when trying to be butch that feel antithetical to a lot of what butch is. And if this were a perfect world, I would agree. But we live in a world where transfem butches like myself are playing this constantly balancing act of passing as a butch, not a man, while still being masculine. Finding the line of masculine strength, and butch safety in women's spaces. Finding the ability to frankly, pass.

Being true to ourselves while being respected in lesbian spaces, larger queer spaces, and the world overall means needing to be much more intentional than some of my other butch peers may need to be. Many days I put on the more feminine clothing and try to butch it up because frankly, it let's me pass as a woman first. I found with a lot of my TME butch peers, the biggest area that we differ in fashion is just how much more masculine they can dress than I can without fear of being misgendered. One of my best friends, a cisgender butch, will never need to worry about someone refusing to view her as a woman. Never need to worry about entering a space for women while dressed firmly in nothing but men's clothing and a shaved head. That's a privilege that unfortunately transfem butches don't really get. One day perhaps...

I do hope this advice is helpful. Finding your niche in butch fashion can be difficult baseline, but especially as a transfem. Weirdly enough though, I found that once I really found said niche, I actively got misgendered less than I did before. Which I think speaks to the role self love and confidence plays in the whole equation. But that's a whole other thing.

Probably a silly thing to worry about, but as a recently out transfem butch, I'm getting stuck on how to dress masc in a butch way, as opposed to just masc in a guy way. As someone into butches, do you have any advice?

oh my god yes absolutely 🥰 also, putting out the call to my transfem butch mutuals and followers, if you have any advice or input please reply to this post or rb!!!

i think a lot of looking butch is just curating your particular style, and finding the right accessories. your butch energy will come through. but here are a few items/materials that strike me as particularly butch (some of these may be worn by more of the normie cishet population depending on where you live, i’m in the pnw):

bolo ties

vests of any kind

big fuckoff belt buckles

leather (🤤)

butch jewelry!! rings, chains, a double venus pendant, stud earrings, leather bracelets/chokers

hats

vintage clothing that looks vintage

clothing for a specific activity/sport when you’re not doing said activity: motocross jacket, fishing vest, etc.

bandannas (super cute around your neck or your head if you have long hair)

suspenders

wallet chains

paisley patterns, florals, any intricately patterned fabrics

unusual/old watches

doc martens or any big stompy dyke boots

western shirts

belts (with the shirt tucked in!!!!)

if you’re in a casual setting or trying to be slutty, open button down showing off the sports bra is SUCH a look

these are just kinda my own taste and what i’ve seen butches wearing that makes me go ‘oh yeah that’s butch’ but if there’s a specific lane of alternative fashion that calls to you, follow it. i think specificity and intent, combined with that butch je ne sais quoi, really come through when it comes to personal style. and being a little bit vain about your hair 😘

[youngsadlesbian]

BORN FOR THIS

pairing: natasha romanoff x bucky barnes x daughter!reader

summary: growing up as the daughter of natasha romanoff and bucky barnes, you prove your brilliance and earn your place among the avengers.

a/n: it's been a long time since i wrote anything for buckynat x daughter!reader so here it is.

word count: 914

warnings: just fluffy <3

Being the daughter of two of the world’s most dangerous spies came with a lot of expectations. People assumed you’d be a perfect soldier, a flawless fighter, or maybe an expert in covert operations. But you were none of those things—at least, not in the way they expected.

Your mind was your greatest weapon.

It started with a Hydra firewall.

You were twelve, sitting in the Avengers Tower’s common room, absently hacking into a secure system while eating a bowl of cereal.

Steve, Bucky, and Natasha were sitting nearby, discussing an upcoming mission. They were stuck on a major issue: Hydra had encrypted files that could expose their newest operation, and no one—not even Tony—had been able to break through their security.

"FRIDAY, any progress?" Natasha asked, crossing her arms.

"Negative. Decryption process remains incomplete. Estimated time: seventy-two hours."

Bucky groaned. "We don’t have seventy-two hours."

You looked up from your tablet. "What are you trying to get into?"

"Classified," Natasha said automatically.

You rolled your eyes and turned the screen toward them. "You mean this?"

There was a long silence.

Steve nearly choked on his coffee. "How the hell—?"

Bucky snatched the tablet from your hands. Sure enough, the encrypted Hydra files were right there, already decrypted.

Natasha blinked. "You cracked the encryption?"

You shrugged. "It wasn’t that hard. They used a basic 256-bit cipher. Amateurs."

Tony chose that exact moment to walk in. "Hey, who’s been messing with my—" He froze as he saw what was on the screen. His face went through at least four different emotions before he turned to you, eyes wide. "Wait. Wait, wait. You cracked the Hydra encryption? The one I spent a week trying to get through?"

You nodded. "Yeah, but to be fair, they used a weak key. If you tweak the algorithm to—"

"Okay, nope. I refuse to be shown up by a twelve-year-old," Tony declared. "This is unacceptable."

Steve just stared at you. "How long did it take you?"

You tilted your head, thinking. "Maybe… ten minutes?"

Natasha looked genuinely impressed.

Bucky looked horrified.

Tony groaned. "I hate this. I hate this."

At fourteen, you had another brilliant (but completely ridiculous) idea.

The mission was in Madripoor. The Avengers needed to infiltrate a high-tech facility, but security was tight. No one could get past the biometric scanners without raising alarms.

The team spent hours brainstorming. Then you walked in, half-asleep, holding a bag of chips.

"Why don’t you just trigger a system-wide false alarm first?" you suggested between bites.

Everyone turned to look at you.

You chewed slowly. "I mean… if the whole system freaks out first, no one will notice when you actually break in. Hydra will think it's just another system malfunction."

Silence.

Bruce adjusted his glasses. "Technically, that could work."

"That’s insane," Clint muttered.

"It’s also brilliant," Natasha said.

Tony groaned. "Okay, fine. Let's try the kid’s dumb idea."

It worked.

And no one ever called your ideas dumb again.

By the time you were fifteen, it was clear that you weren’t just "the kid of two super-spies." You were an asset.

So when a mission required an undercover agent who could blend in as an ordinary teenager, you were the perfect candidate.

Natasha was against it.

"No. Absolutely not."

"Nat," Bucky sighed, "she’s the best option."

"She’s fifteen," Natasha snapped.

"She’s also better at this than half the team," Tony added. "I mean, let’s be real, she’s already saved our asses multiple times."

You sat there, watching as your parents debated your fate.

Finally, you crossed your arms. "You do realize I’m in the room, right?"

Natasha sighed, rubbing her temples. "You’re not ready for this."

You met her gaze, unwavering. "Yes, I am."

She studied you for a long moment. Then, finally, she nodded. "Fine. But if anything happens to you—"

Bucky cut in. "—we’ll burn the whole damn place down."

That was the only reassurance they needed.

The mission went too well.

You slipped in undetected, blending in as just another teenager at an elite school. You befriended the target’s daughter, gained access to restricted areas, and managed to get crucial intel without setting off a single alarm.

Everything was fine—until it wasn’t.

The second Hydra caught wind of an intruder, all hell broke loose.

Gunfire. Alarms. Agents swarming the building.

You could hear Natasha’s panicked voice over the comms. "Where is she?"

You didn’t have time to respond. You were already running.

A Hydra agent lunged at you, but you were faster. You ducked, disarmed him, and took him down before he could blink.

Natasha and Bucky reached you just in time to see it.

You turned to them, slightly out of breath. "Hi."

Natasha’s eyes flickered to the unconscious agent. "Did you—?"

"Yeah."

There was a beat of silence.

Then Bucky grinned. "That’s my girl."

Natasha sighed. "God help us all."

But you caught the tiny smirk she tried to hide.

After the mission, things changed.

No one treated you like a kid anymore. Not even Tony.

You had a seat at the table. You had a voice in the room. You were an Avenger.

And as you sat there, watching Natasha and Bucky exchange knowing glances, you realized—

This was where you were meant to be.

[namsgyu]

gift giving hcs with namgyu <3

a/n: this takes place outside the games!! (≧∀≦) not proofread!! just a silly idea that popped up in my head, pls enjoy! <3

You —> Namgyu

you like to give namgyu things that remind you of your relationship with him

matching couple sweaters, keychains of characters from shows you watch together, even simple jewelry he swears looks stupid, but yet you find him slipping it on before you two go out

he scolds you for “wasting money” on him, but when you’re not around he looks at the items you’ve gifted him with such sweetness in his eyes

when he gets promoted at club pentagon, you gift him a watch that he’s been eyeing but deemed too expensive to buy

to celebrate namgyu’s promotion you make a reservation at a nice restaurant, planning to surprise him during dinner

when you pull the velvet box out and present him with it, he chuckles “is this another set of matching bracelets?”

however, his eyes go wide as he opens the box, the watch staring back at him

at first he doesn’t know how to respond, looking back at you like you’ve pulled the world’s cruelest joke on him or something

when you confirm the watch is the real deal, his expression softens and you’re greeted with a warm smile. “i have nothing else to say but thank you” he grabs your hand, rubbing his thumb against it “this is the nicest thing i’ve ever received” he says genuinely, his eyes meeting yours

definitely subtlety flexes his new gift LOL

purposely chooses to show up to work with his sleeves rolled up, watch shining under the club lights

when asked about it, oh boy. his chest swells with pride “yeah y/n got it for me” he’ll say with a shit eating grin on his face

Namgyu —> You

namgyu’s gifts to you are well thought out

he thinks about it for weeks before buying it, secretly wondering if it’s stupid or not. it’s never stupid

that phone case you’ve been eyeing? he has it saved and in his online shopping cart. the perfume you always stroll by when window shopping together? he has a photo of it on his phone, ready to buy when needed. the stupid-faced plushie that you think is soooo cute? he knows exactly which stores he can buy it at

being said, when your birthday rolls around, namgyu goes all out

weeks before your birthday, he’s ordering your gifts online, secretly hiding them in places you won’t see

days before, he tells you he’s going out with thanos to help him work on his music. instead, both of them are at namgyu’s place trying to wrap everything as nice as they can

when you tear into the presents namgyu watches you intently, trying to read what you’re thinking

as you gasp and whip your head towards him questioning “how did you know i wanted this?!” he’ll shrug and reply with “just a hunch”

if you try to tease him about keeping tabs on the things you’ll like he will absolutely deny it. starts trying to defend himself saying “you only looked at it a million times”

when he sees you using the gifts he gave you, namgyu feels a sense of accomplishment. he’s happy seeing you happy, it’s as simple as that!

if he’s within earshot of you telling one of your friends about something that namgyu gave you, he makes sure to bring it up later. “aren’t i just the best?”

thanks for tuning in!! feedback is always read and appreciated!! <3

[gingiesworld]

In The Stars (2/?)

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst, violence

Word Count: 4.5k

18+ MINORS DNI

Since the night the two had finally opened their hearts, embracing their feelings for one another instead of hiding away, they had begun to spend more and more time together. Although, they had kept it a secret from Pietro, wanting to enjoy the peace and tranquillity behind closed doors. Wanda was sat at the island, watching as Y/N moved around the kitchen, cooking a dinner they had promised her. She admired how they moved around, how they held themselves up on their feet, soon raising a brow as they turned to face her, leaning against the counter. 

"Do you think we should maybe tell Piet? About us?" Y/N asked her, Wanda sensed their nervousness, moving around to stand in front of them, taking one of their hands in hers. 

"Maybe." She answered, soon moving her hand to cup their cheek, looking in their eyes. "But, is it too selfish to want to stay in our own little world a little while longer?" She questioned, stroking their cheek with her thumb. 

"I guess not, but he's my best friend." Y/N replied, taking a deep breath. "He's always been there for me, and I hate keeping secrets from him, he's always been there for me, through everything. I just." 

"How about we tell them on Sunday?" Wanda suggested. "At Sunday dinner?" Y/N exhaled, nodding slowly before Wanda stepped up on her toes, kissing them softly. "But, I think dinner's going to burn if you don't concentrate. We don't want to burn the kitchen down, do we?" She teased them, patting their cheek before stepping away.

"You know, I have never seen you cook before." Y/N stated with a smirk, stirring the Bolognese. "It's like you might be just as bad of a cook as your twin." They chuckled as she shook her head, a smile forming on her face. 

"I can cook, I just haven't cooked in a while." She told them. "Not since I moved here with my brother and his wife." She moved to stand beside them, watching as they added some herbs to the sauce. "But, maybe I can cook for you next time." She bumped her hip against theirs. 

"You know, I may just take you up on that." They accepted with a smile, glancing down at her. She soon moved to help set the table as Y/N finished with cooking, as Wanda grabbed their drinks, Y/N grabbed their plates, following behind her, placing them down before pulling her chair out for her before moving to take their seat. Wanda watched as they started to eat, glancing at their left hand, seeing their ring finger bare. 

"You took of your wedding ring?" She questioned, Y/N wiped their mouth after swallowing what they had in their mouth. 

"Yeah, I figured it was time." They told her. "I honestly don't quite know what we are, or if we are even putting a label on us yet, but I want to be all in this between us." Wanda's heart beat rapidly in her chest, waiting for their next words. "I know that what Jean and I had was special, it was amazing but I believe that we could be just as or more than that. I want to believe that." 

"I do too." Wanda whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just, I'm scared to get hurt again, I can't go through that again." Y/N reached over, taking her hand in theirs. 

"I can't say that we won't have our disagreements, every couple has their disagreements." They started, looking in her eyes as a gentle smile took place on their face. "But we are both adults, we can always talk through everything, any problem that we come across, we will get through it all together. Love isn't always enough to keep a relationship working, there's more to it, it's give and take, compromises and sacrifices, but it's never all going to be one sided." They lifted her hand to their lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I am all in this Wanda, as much as it scares me too, but I want this. I want us." Wanda only saw confidence and comfort in their eyes as they spoke. "But I need you to want us too." 

"I do." Wanda spoke shakily, their words taking an effect on her. "I just." 

"I'm not him, Wanda." They cut her off, already knowing she was going to repeat her previous statement. "I will never ever be him. I want to be your safety and comfort, I want to be someone who you can rely on when you need me, however you need me." 

"I'm sorry." Wanda looked down, her plate suddenly becoming more interesting until she heard their chair move. They got on their knees beside her, a hand resting on the back of her chair whilst her hand remained in their other. 

"You have nothing to apologise for." They told her tenderly, moving her hair from her face. "You're allowed to feel how you feel, there's nothing wrong with it, and I will always be here to listen if ever you need. I will give you reassurance if that's what you need." Wanda only nodded, a small smile on her face as Y/N kissed her hand once more. "Now, let's finish eating and we can watching your Dick Van Dyke before you go home if you'd like?" Wanda nodded, picking up her fork as Y/N got back in their seat, stealing glances at her every now and then. There was no denying that the two still had a lot of work to do on themselves, but there's no saying that they both can't heal side by side as they grow together. 

--

Y/N still found themselves in the cemetery, cleaning up Jean's headstone and replacing the wilting flowers. Soon sitting on the ground, leaning back on their arms as they looked up at the clear blue sky, the weight that they had felt in their chest for the past two years, barely noticeable. 

"I uh, I kind of fell for someone." They started, turning their attention to Jean's picture on the stone, a small smile on their face. "I don't know if it would be considered too soon, because it's only been a couple of years since, well you know." They chuckled lightly. "But I believe that I could fall in love with her, I can't quite explain it, but I've never felt like this, not since you." They sighed as they soon lay back, watching the clouds float along in the sky. "You would have loved her yourself, truthfully she reminds me so much of how you used to be, she's strong and beautiful, smart and she really is amazing." They rested their hands behind their head. "But she's just as terrified as I am, I guess we both don't want to be hurt again." They squeezed their eyes shut. "I can't lose another person who I love, I just don't think I would survive losing her like I lost you." They swallowed the lump in their throat, moving to their feet. "I just want you to know that you will always have a place in my heart, you were the person to show me how to love, that I could be loved and you have no idea how grateful I am to have had our time together." They wiped their eyes, taking a shaky breath. "Even if it was as fleeting as it seemed, the pain of losing you doesn't outweigh the time we had and the lessons that you taught me. I love you, my phoenix." Y/N pressed two fingers to their lips, pressing a kiss before placing them on the picture. "I'll be back again, I'm never going to forget you." With that, they made their way to their car, settling in the driver's seat, resting their head on the steering wheel, giving them a moment or two before they decided to head to Pietro's for Sunday dinner, before they were going to tell Pietro about the two of them. 

Once Y/N had pulled up outside their best friend's home, their heart was beating out of their chest, afraid of what Pietro would say about them and Wanda starting whatever they are. They reluctantly stepped out of the car, every step heavier as they approached the front door, taking a deep breath before they let themselves inside. The house already smelled of roast pork, quietly closing the door behind them, they made their way towards the living room, where they found Wanda sat alone with a book in her hand.

"Hey." They spoke softly, gaining her attention, a shy smile on their face as they nervously stepped inside, taking a seat on the sofa beside her. Wanda smiled gently, the butterflies swarming in her stomach, she was both nervous and excited.

"Hey." She greeted them, placing her book down on the coffee table before turning to face them. "How was your morning?" She asked them, knowing what their routine was.

"It was alright." They nodded, picking at their cuticles until she reached over and took their hand in hera. "I guess in someway, I feel somewhat lighter than before." Wanda's smile widened as she scooted closer to them. "How about you? You nervous?" They asked her, playing with the rings on her fingers.

"I am." She nodded, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I have been replaying what we're going to say in my head, coming up with the different outcomes, but we won't really know what will happen until we tell him." She told them, Y/N nodded in agreement, lifting her hand to their lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, a gesture that seems to make her heart beat quicken everytime.

"We will do it together." Y/N whispered, the two separating as they heard footsteps approaching. Then Monica entered the room with Pietro following behind her with their drinks.

"I told you they would be here." Pietro told his wife with a triumphant smirk. "It's like clockwork every week." Monica shook her head as Y/N thanked Pietro for their drink.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, it's like the two of you are married." Monica teased Pietro, Wanda giggling as the two made disgusted faces at her statement.

"I'm sorry to say that your husband is most definitely not my type." Y/N told her. "If we were to be married, it would be more of a pity marriage on my part." Pietro looked offended as both women laughed. "It's true! Who would feed you otherwise, you'd kill yourself with your own cooking." They defended as Pietro scoffed, turning away dramatically.

"Well I have you know, I would bring more to our marriage than just bad cooking." Pietro told them.

"Like what? You're not exactly handy around here either." Wanda added, earning a glare from her twin.

"It's true." Monica agreed, sipping her lemonade with a smirk. Everyone burst out laughing as Pietro tried his hardest to fight his own smile.

"Anyways Y/N, I do have a question." Pietro started, turning to face them. "When did you stop wearing your wedding ring? I've noticed you've not wore it for a while."

"It's been a couple of months, at least I think." They answered him truthfully, remembering that they had stopped wearing it the morning after they had slept while on call with Wanda. "I figured that it's time, Jean is always going to be a huge part of my life, she helped me figure out the person I wanted to be and well, I can't keep living in the past and always wonder what if." They answered, half truthfully.

"I'm proud of you." Pietro told them honestly, a gentle smile on his face. "Jean would be proud of you." Y/N only nodded before taking a swig of their beer. As the afternoon went on, the four of them sat around the table, eating and bullying Pietro's lack of talent in domesticity.

"Before we finish here, we need to talk." Wanda started, her eyes finding Y/N's who only nodded for her to continue. "You know you're always going to be the most important man in my life, but you need to know that Y/N and I." She took a deep breath as a silence took over the room.

"We've kind of been spending time together." Y/N continued for her, looking at Pietro, whose expression remained stoic. "We don't quite have a label on what we both are yet, but we are figuring that out together."

"So, you both have been lying to me?" Pietro spoke calmly, too calm which made a chill run through them both. "You have both been sneaking around behind my back?" He looked between the two, ignoring as Monica gave him a pleading look.

"No, it's not like that." Wanda tried, watching as he just shook his head. "I have feelings for them, I can't quite explain really how it started between us, but it has. We were both afraid of tellin you because we didn't know how you would react." Pietro remained silent.

"I do really care about her." Y/N confessed. "More than I should, but I know what I feel for her isn't like what I felt for Jean, it's different. Completely different." Pietro's eyes softened slightly as he listened to them. "You know, I love Jean, I always will, but that doesn't mean that I won't love Wanda." Wanda reached over and took their hand as they spoke. "Because I am falling for her, more and more each time I'm with her." Pietro pulled a disgusted expression. "No, not like that, hell we haven't even took that step yet. You know yourself that I'm an all in kind of person, you know that, you saw that with Jean and I." Y/N took a deep breath. "What I'm saying is that I do believe that Wanda and I could have a future together, I do see that, I don't even know if she sees that herself, but I don't care if she doesn't just yet." Y/N turned to gaze at Wanda, who had tears forming in her eyes. "I'm a patient person when it comes to someone I truly care about, I would always be patient with you because I think." They shook their head with a chuckle. "No, I know, I know that I am falling for her, I am truly falling for you and the truth is, I don't want to stop falling for you." Pietro smiled as Y/N wiped a tear that had escaped Wanda's eye.

"I'm falling for you too." Wanda whispered shakily. "I really am and all I ask is that you would be there to catch me."

"Of course, I'll always catch you." They told her. "I'm not afraid of this anymore, as long as I have you by my side, I'm not scared." Wanda cupped their cheek and pressed a soft passionate kiss to their lips, breaking apart as Pietro faked a cough.

"As touching as all of this is." He started, a hard expression. "I just have to say this one thing, I am really happy for you both. You both deserve all the happiness in the world." He smiled at the two, both Y/N and Wanda smiled.

"You know, I thought this was going to end differently." Y/N stated.

"How so?" Monica questioned.

"Well, I thought I would be getting a punch in the face or something." They chuckled. "Especially with her being your little sister."

"Twin!" Wanda defended herself, struggling to hold back her smile.

"I am still twelve minutes older." Pietro stated triumphantly, leaning back in his chair whilst Wanda just shook her head with a smile on her face.

Wanda had decided to head to Y/N's after dinner, she was sat on the sofa, her feet tucked under her as Y/N brought her a glass of wine with their beer. She smiled and said a soft thank you as she took the drink from them, watching as they sat beside her, sipping their beer. She leaned her head on her hand as her arm rested on the back of the sofa.

"What?" Y/N questioned, a curious look in their eye as they watched her carefully.

"Did you mean it?" She asked them. "What you told Pietro, did you really mean it?" Y/N placed their bottle on the coffee table, turning to fully face her.

"I did." They answered her, rest their hand on her knee, rubbing small circles over her skin. "I meant every word, and I'm not always certain about my feelings, but I am certain about what I feel for you. I want this, you and I, it's what I want. It's what I crave and I." They chuckled lightly, Wanda tilted her head slightly, confused. "I can't get you out of my mind, when we're not together, and even when we are together, you are all I think about." They exhaled before continuing. "It's intoxicating, it's like you're all around me, even when you're not." Wanda moved to place her glass down on the table before settling back on the sofa. "I uh, I have been wanting to ask you this, maybe in a more romantic date or something." Wanda watched as they became nervous, her own heart beating rapidly in her chest. "Will you be my maybe, I." Wanda smiled at their nervousness, leaning forward and pressing her lips to theirs.

"I would be honoured to be your girlfriend." She told them with a smile, Y/N exhaled in relief before pressing their lips against hers, the two breaking the kiss with a smile.

"You have no idea how happy I am right now." They told her honestly, resting their forehead against hers.

"I'm sure I do, because you have made me the happiest I have been in a very long time." Wanda spoke quietly. Y/N shifted slightly, moving their hand to cup her face as they looked in her eyes.

"I will only ever want you to feel happy and comfortable with me." They told her, caressing her cheek with their thumb. Wanda moved to kiss them, more passionately than before.

--

Time seemed to pass by faster, the moments were filled with love and happiness. Although the two had never said those three words out loud to each other, but neither of them could really hide from their growing feelings for one another with each moment.

"So, you and my sister." Pietro said as he sipped his beer, the two deciding to hang out outside of the confines of either homes.

"Yup." Y/N nodded, finishing their drink before ordering another round, placing Pietro's in front of him. "I'm sorry if it's weird."

"No, it's not weird." He told them, turning on his stool to face them. "It's nice to see the two of you happy. I never knew what Wanda was like when she was with Vis, but I know she was unhappy, especially with everything she told us." Y/N listened to him, hanging on to every word. "But I've never seen her this happy since we were kids."

"She deserves to be happy." Y/N spoke softly.

"And so do you." He reminded them, watching as a smile formed on their face.

"I am happy, like really happy." Y/N admitted. "Being with Wanda is just, it's amazing. I can be myself with her, and she doesn't even care that I have some traits that are annoying to a lot of people." They smiled as they thought of her. "Even when I'm in the garage, she's always right there with me, she has been helping me with the project I'm working on, I've been teaching her about carpentry and how to use the tools and she seems to enjoy it."

"Are you sure she does?" A voice sounded from beside them. The two turned around to see a tall blonde man stood there.

"This conversation is kind of private." Y/N told him firmly.

"Well, you are talking about Wanda Maximofg right?" He smirked as he looked between the two. "If you ask me, she doesn't really have much good to offer to a relationship. Especially in the sack." With that, Y/N swung at him, landing a punch on his jaw.

"Y/N." Pietro spoke, a warning in his tone. "Leave it."

"Yeah Y/N, leave it." He smirked, rubbing his jaw. "Better yet, leave Wanda, you could do much better with paying for a hooker." His eyes remained on them. "Hell, she does actually give one good blowjob, that's about all she's good for." Y/N saw red, lunging at him and tackling him to the ground, punching him repeatedly in the face.

"Y/N! Stop!" Pietro yelled, pulling them off of him, leading them away from the bar towards the exit. "What the hell was that?!" He questioned once they were outside, standing on the pavement.

"You heard everything he was saying about her!" Y/N yelled, still angry at the words spoken about Wanda. "He completely disrespected her, and I will never let anyone disrespect anyone I love!" They took a deep breath, ignoring Pietro's eyes widening. "He's lucky I didn't kill him."

"You would have if I didn't pull you off of him!" Pietro shot, watching as Y/N shook their head, starting to walk away from the bar. "You need to be more careful with your temper, you don't want the same thing to happen as college do you?!" Y/N stopped in their track, turning around to face him.

"You know I'm not that person anymore." They told him, hurt in their voice.

"Really, I'm pretty sure that I just saw them resurface." He told them, Y/N hung their head, looking down at their hands.

"I changed." They told him. "Since Jean, I haven't been that person since Jean came into my life."

"Really, what about what you did to Scott?" Pietro questioned. "You were lucky back then that there were witnesses of how he tried to take advantage of her, you only got let off with a warning." He reminded them. "You put him into a coma, you lost control and almost killed him."

All Y/N could do was look down at their feet, not wanting to see the disappointment in their best friend's eyes once again. They flinched when he gently placed his hand on their shoulder.

"Come on, let's head home and clean your hands." He spoke softly. Y/N only nodded, turning around and walking in the direction to Pietro's house. The walk was quiet, only the sound of chatter from passers by and cars passing through the night. "So, do you love her?" Pietro broke the silence, Y/N's head shot up, glancing at him. "With what you said earlier."

"I do." Y/N told him. "I really do love her, it's not like how I felt for Jean, it's different, but then again every love isn't the same. We recognise it as love, but it's never the same as it felt for someone before."

"Have you told her?" He asked them, they shook their head no.

"I've told her that I am falling for her, but I haven't said I love you to her." They told him. "I just, I guess I'm scared because if I tell her, what if she takes a step back from us? What if she doesn't feel the same or see the same future as I do."

"You'll never know until you tell her." He told them. "I mean what I said before, she has never been this happy with you before, and with what that jerk was like, who I presume is her ex that she moved to get away from, she most definitely wasn't happy with him."

"I just, I'm waiting for the moment." They told him. "You know, a way to make it special, like under a beautiful sunset or something."

"You don't have to wait for a big time romantic moment, it doesn't have to be during this grand gesture." He told them. "It's much more meaningful and special when you don't expect it, in a quiet moment between the two of you. Whether it be while watching a movie or cooking together. It can be anytime." Y/N nodded as they took his words in, soon stopping the conversation as Pietro's house came into view. Once they both entered the living room, Wanda and Monica were sat watching one of their rom coms without Pietro making jokes all the way through it.

"Hey, what happened?" Wanda asked once her eyes landed on Y/N.

"We met your ex tonight." Pietro stated, taking a seat beside his wife. "He really is a piece of work."

"What did he say?" She asked, her voice shaking slightly.

"Just a load of crap." Y/N told her, remaining in their spot by the door.

"Yeah, then he got his ass handed to him." Pietro told her, Monica looked at Y/N, Wanda's eyes following as they both saw their hands, their knuckles bloodied and bruised. "I pulled them away before it got to far." Wanda stood up, looking over Y/N before gesturing for them to follow her. Y/N treaded lightly up the stairs behind her, following her into her bathroom.

"Sit." Wanda told them, letting the sink fill up with warm water, grabbing a cloth before gently taking their hand in hers, cleaning them as Y/N watched her closely.

"I'm sorry." Y/N whispered, Wanda's eyes shot up at their words.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." She told them. "I know first hand what he can be like."

"I just, he said all of these things about you, he overheard Pietro's and I's conversation." Y/N started. "I hated the way he spoke about you, I hated the way he was amused by his own words, I hated that I lost control and became that person I never wanted to be again."

"Hey." Wanda cupped their face, forcing them to look in her eyes. "I don't care about the person you used to be, but I do care about the person you are now. The person I am falling more and more in love with everyday."

"You love me?" They questioned, their eyes never leaving hers.

"I do." She told them honestly. "I have been trying to deny it myself, but I can't anymore. I love you so much, more than I have ever loved anyone before." Y/N wasted no time in pressing their lips against hers, their hands holding her close by her shirt.

"I love you." They whispered against her lips. "I really do. I love you so fucking much." The two smiled, Wanda then moved slightly, finishing her task, causing them to flinch when she grabbed the alcohol wipes from the first aid box. A fear that the two had unknowingly shared seemed to be a silly notion of what could have been. Finally accepting how deeply they both feel for each other.

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[bcksbarnes]

time's never been on our side - chapter one

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: you and bucky happen to meet by chance one night, and it feels like there is a spark between the two of you - but he has to leave. was this destiny? or cruel fate?

word count: 3K

a/n: ahhhh first chapter of my new fic! i can't wait to write more and explore this plot. thank you all who voted in my poll! this was the fic i was leaning towards so i hope you all enjoy reading as much as i did writing :)

there’s nothing that bucky enjoyed more after months undercover than a dive bar in the greatest city in the world – the city he was lucky to call home. new york had been there to wish him farewell when he left for the war and had welcomed him back with open arms after his deprogramming over seven decades later. 

that’s why he loved the city; it changed rapidly but it never felt different. 

he had a list of bars he’d like to frequent, most of them small and quiet, the sound of some 90s rock band coming from the speaker and the smell of smoke lingering in the air. he liked places that didn’t ask questions. places that felt like he could blend in seamlessly.  

his life as the winter soldier was so far removed now, a life where he had been both infamous and a ghost. they never saw the winter soldier, but they knew of his stories. 

now, he was just happy to be bucky. though, and he’d never admit it to steve, he was tired. tired of fighting. tired of missions. there was always something new, though there was hope in the back of his mind that one day he could quit, settle down, start a new life. but that’s all it was, wasn’t it? hope, not something he was capable of actually doing. 

bucky felty an immense amount of guilt about his time as the winter soldier, but he felt even worse when he thought about steve. the man had done so much for him, he believed in him, he found him, he fought for him – when he called for another mission how was bucky supposed to say no? 

his thoughts are interrupted when he hears the door of the bar open, his ears perking up and his attention brought back to reality. that was how he was conditioned. there was always a threat, he always needed to be on guard.

he hadn’t been there long when you walked in, the ice in his whiskey had barely begun to sweat. his head turns to look at the front door, eyes watching as you sit down next to him at the barstool, not even sparing him a passing glance. 

bucky turns his head back to his drink, his brain working in overdrive to drown out the memories of his last mission. his therapist – ugh, he hated that – had suggested that continuing to fight might not be great for his stress but he couldn’t slow down. that’s when he felt like he would let steve down and, honestly, that’s when the thoughts were worse. 

“what’s good here?” your voice hits him before he has a chance to realize you’re talking to him, his grasp on his glass clenches for a moment before he slowly turns his head, your gazes catching. it feels like ice is pumping through his veins as you two look at each other, a shiver running down his spine that he does his best to ignore. 

your eyes watch him carefully, this stranger is looking at you like you had just asked the most ridiculous question he had ever heard. 

“nothing.” his voice is gruff and unwavering, a hint of humor in it if you were to listen close enough. 

you smirk a bit at his response, unphased by his disgruntled attitude towards you. 

“good to know.” you hum to yourself a bit, squinting your eyes as you look at the alcohol selection behind the bar, eventually just settling on a beer that seems safe as the bartender serves you. 

you have buckly’s attention now, he watches as you bring the bottle to your lips, your brows furrowed together as you wonder how a bar can get away with selling such stale beer. 

“not up to your tastes?” he asks, seeing the face you make after you sip. 

“try about five years past its expiration.” you say, head turning to look at the man next to you. 

he’s watching you intently and you would normally feel exposed under such a gaze, as if he’s trying to read your every thought with just a look. but, there’s something warm and inviting underneath the cold stare, something that makes you relax a bit.

“i’ll give you some advice – when in doubt, always go with whiskey.” his metal hand picks up his glass, tipping it towards you before bringing it up to his lips. 

you chuckle a bit as you hang your head, shaking it. what an asshole.

“you couldn’t have told me that like two minutes ago when i asked?” 

he smirks for a quick moment; it fades as soon as it appears. 

“you asked what was good. i said nothing. i didn’t lie.” he quips back. “i just didn’t think it was necessary to go into all the details.” 

you rake your eyes over this stranger as he speaks. despite being seated you can tell he’s tall, well built – no doubt. he looks like he hasn’t seen sleep in a few days, and the dark hair on his face is between scruff and a beard. and despite it all, handsome. 

“thanks.” you mumble sarcastically before tipping the bottle of beer again, taking another sip. 

“you don’t seem like someone who frequents these places.” bucky’s not entirely sure why he continues to engage with you. he visits these bars to get away from people, to not be disturbed, not to talk to some random woman who had just sat down. though it’s very out of character for him, he continues nonetheless. 

“that’s a bit presumptuous.” though he’s not wrong, you make no effort to correct him. “and what do you mean by these places?” 

“you know ...” he shrugs a bit, searching around the room.

you know exactly what he means. the bar is small, cramped actually, you two are one of five people in the place including the bartender. the walls were dark and uninviting, behind the smell of cigarettes was a deep rooted hint of musk. beer signs hung on the wall, all which were slightly off centered, and the tv that hung, which was in fact muted, had been flickering for quite some time. it wasn’t a place that you would come to, but you had stormed out of another bar and this was the first place you landed on, and you needed a drink badly.

“places where you don’t have to ask what to get.” he’s teasing, there’s a soft sparkle in his eye for a moment as he takes in your features. you roll your eyes at him, feeling your hand grip the bottle of your beer tighter.

“i was looking for a change of scenery.” you say. “and my ex is at the bar i usually hang out at.”

you had been broken up for months, actually, he had moved on at this point. new girlfriend, new apartment, and there was no malice there, or jealousy. sometimes it felt like you were stuck. like you couldn’t move forward or find someone new. you stayed at your old job, in your old apartment, single. it wasn’t that you wanted him, it’s that it was too difficult to feel happy for someone when you weren’t happy in your own life.

“ah, classic.” bucky says, nodding empathetically.

“yeah,” you shrug as you take another sip of your beer, it’s starting to go down a lot smoother now. “i didn’t get your name.”

you can see the hesitation in his eyes, like he doesn’t want to tell you, but it’s quickly replaced with something more meaningful, something you can’t really read.

“bucky.” 

“bucky.” it rolls off your tongue easily as you repeat it, and it also fits him perfectly. he looked like a ‘bucky’. you say your name back and you can see he makes a mental note of it. “it’s nice to meet you.” 

he grunts a bit in response as he takes another sip of his drink, the liquor burning but he shows no change in his facial features.  

“are you someone who frequents these places?” you ask. 

“you could say that.” he responds, his glass now resting on the wood bar, though he makes no attempts to clarify. “are you from around here?”

“yes and no.” you say with a shrug. “grew up across the river, moved into the city once i was able to get a full time job. now i live around the corner in the east village in my shitty one bedroom that costs way too much.” he laughs at that. “what about you?”

“i was born and raised in brooklyn.” bucky explains, looking down at his drink. “joined the army, did some things here and there, and now i’m what most would consider a nomad.”

“yeah? why’s that?”

“haven’t settled down … my work requires me to travel a lot for extended periods of time. if i find myself with downtime in a city i just usually book a hotel for a few days until i need to leave.”

bucky cannot, for the life of him, figure out why he is telling you all this information. it’s like his brain is in some sort of fog and he can’t stop himself from speaking. he was leaving tomorrow for another mission, he didn’t need you, a random stranger, knowing all this about him. bucky didn’t like to get attached, or feeling like he left any loose ends. 

when he had finished his mission upstate earlier that day he was excited about some time off, being in new york was few and far between now for him so he wanted to make the most of his time. but, when steve had called and said that he needed help on a month-long mission - how could bucky refuse?

“what do you do for work?”

you can tell the question makes him shift a little in his seat, uncomfortable by whatever he does and the need to always be moving.

“i’m a soldier, of sorts.” he says, though he doesn’t elaborate. “actually, i’m only in town for the night. i have a flight out in the morning.”

“where to?” 

“that’s classified.”

the response makes you chuckle a bit, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly. of course it was. you were just enthralled by this enigma of a man that you couldn’t help but ask, it was worth a shot.

you and bucky spend a few more drinks together, the night passing by quickly as the two of you talk. you pick up that he eyes his watch a few times, knowing that the hours are ticking by and it’s getting later, he had an early flight in the morning but he makes no attempts to stop your conversation, as if he’s just making a mental note of when he needs to leave.

it’s a little after midnight now, about two hours had passed since you had made your way into the bar. somehow you two were huddled a little closer than what would normally be considered friendly, your elbows touching as you both lean on the bar. it feels like the universe is pulling you together, like magnets slowly inching their way towards one another.

bucky’s in the middle of telling you a story about a friend of his, he makes no mention that it’s steve rogers, and the both of you are laughing at the absurdity of it. 

“and then he says to me,” bucky clears his throat before lowering his voice an octave to do an impression. “now, buck, if i could have a word with you. have you ever thought of … smiling a bit more?”

“he said that?!” you ask, your eyes a bit hazy from the alcohol. you had made the switch over to whiskey per bucky’s earlier recommendation. “in front of everyone?”

“in front of everyone!” he says, his eyes wide slightly. he’s glad you found the story just as absurd as he did. “not that i care, but also why right at that moment?”

“your friend sounds like something else.”

“you can definitely say that about …” he trails off, remembering that he didn’t want to mention steve’s name. “... him. we’ve been buddies for a long time, i know he means well, but sometimes i wish he would just shut his mouth.”

the two of you laugh again, filling the otherwise silent bar with some much needed warmth.

“hey,” you say after the laughter dies down and there’s a moment of silence between the two of you. “i’m sure you probably have to get out of here soon, but do you wanna stop and get a slice of pizza together?”

drunk food sounded like heaven to both of you. bucky hadn’t realized he was starving until you mentioned it, he actually wasn’t even sure he had eaten that day. the hours post missions tended to blend together most of the time until he was able to either sleep, or find some alcohol to down. and you didn’t realize how badly you were craving anything that wasn’t whiskey, you weren’t sure how this man drank this at all. you felt like your whole body was on a fire - though the more you thought about it, it could also be the scent of bucky’s cologne that’s making you feel that way - but, the whiskey was definitely hard to stomach.

he nods his head over to the door, the two of you standing up from the barstools. both of your tabs are paid by the time you make it out to the street, the cool air hitting you like a slap in the face. bucky is behind you, shrugging on his leather jacket as you both begin to walk in the direction of the pizzeria.

“i’m surprised you’re not in brooklyn.” you say to him, your head turning in his direction, watching as he puts his hands inside his jacket pockets. “you only have one night in the city and you decided to stay in manhattan.”

“yeah.” he shrugs a bit, not meeting your gaze. what he doesn’t tell you is how hard it is to go back to brooklyn, to walk the streets he grew up on and know that everyone he’s ever loved had passed on, how all the memories he had were all just distant, haunting reminders of the life he wasn’t able to have. “thought i’d change it up a bit.” he lies easily, wishing to drop the conversation.

a few minutes pass, and two slices are secured, both of you standing on the sidewalk outside the pizzeria trying to down them as you talk about everything and nothing. now, in the streets of the city, the two of you are just one of hundreds of people enjoying their night, unlike the private, secluded nature of the bar. although he doesn’t show it, bucky is on alert, watching every person who passes by and treating them as a threat, all while maintaining a light conversation with you … and eating his pizza. he was a good multi-tasker.

it’s when the two of you are finished and were walking back in the direction towards bucky’s hotel that the weight of realization hits both of you. this was the first and last time either of you would see each other. a one night only, ships passing in the night, hello and goodbye. 

“i had fun.” you whisper softly, the quiet around the both of you suddenly feeling suffocating. bucky doesn’t respond back, his eyes on the ground ahead of him, his thoughts of not wanting this to end weighing heavily on his mind. “when’s the next time you’re going to be in new york?”

“i’m not … i’m not sure.”

your shoulder accidentally brushes against his as you walk and you’re sure that your whole body is on fire now. how unfair was this? meeting someone new and exciting for the first time in months, someone who made you forget about the empty, lonely feeling bubbling deep in your gut? it was all a cruel joke set up by the universe. of course he would be off tomorrow and you would most likely never see him again.

“this is me.” he says, as the two of you stand outside of his hotel.

neither of you want to meet the other's eyes, neither want to make the first move to say goodbye. you barely knew him, yet something inside of you felt like you did, or at least wanted to find out in the future.

“you could text me some time?” you ask.

you watch his face and how he hesitates to say anything. his metal hand grips and releases into fists at his side. he’s thinking of all the ways he wants to tell you no. that he can’t let a loose end exist in his world.

“sure.” his voice betrays his mind, he digs into his coat to grab his phone handing it over to you. you quickly type in your number and send yourself a text.

bucky’s number.

he reads the text you sent when you hand him his phone back and he smirks to himself.

“how original.”

 “it seemed like something you’d say.”

the both of you stand there for a moment, searching each other's faces, before bucky takes a step back, the sound of his leather boot hitting the concrete snapping you back into reality.

“it was nice meeting you.” he whispers.

“you too, bucky.”

he gives you one last glance over before he turns on his heel, briskly walking into the hotel and leaving you to the dark streets of the city. a gust of wind hits you and you pull your jacket closer to yourself as you head off in the direction of your apartment. had it always been this cold? or did the distraction of bucky have you so far removed from reality you hadn’t realized?

it’s me :)

you text back as you stand in the elevator to your apartment. three dots appear on your screen and quickly fade. it’s late. he had an early flight. surely you’d hear from him soon enough. you hoped.

[onlyangel4]

onlyangel4 1k event - P10. CL16. SMAU.

trope: single parent

pairing: charles leclerc x single mother!reader

faceclaim: vanessa morgan

1k event

scuderiaferrari

liked by y/ninsta, charlesleclerc, lewishamilton and 4,283,029 others

scuderiaferrari: GIVEAWAY ALERT: to celebrate lewis' first season with us we are giving away ten sets of two pit ticket to whatever race you want to attend. to enter comment below with the race you want to go to and who you would take with you.

view all 1,928,230 comments

user1: i would love to take my dad to hungary, he got me into f1 but has never been to arace

user2: my husband is turning 40 this year we would love to go to vegas

user3: my best friend has been begging for silverstone tickets

y/ninsta: i live about half an hour from cota and my son is always begging to go to race, it would be a dream come true.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: what do you mean i get to take jasper to cota this year, he is gonna lose his shit

y/ninsta posted a story

written: just told jasper what we are doing next weekend and now he won't let go off me

y/ninsta posted a story

written: first day of race weekend with my boy and i can not stop smiling, my heart is so full

y/ninsta posted a story

y/ninsta posted a story

written: yes that is jasper with charles leclerc. no my life is not real.

y/ninsta

liked by charlesleclerc, y/bff, y/brother and 42 others

y/ninsta: jasper's first f1 weekend ft a special guest

view all 18 comments

charlesleclerc: it was lovely meeting you both

y/ninsta: thank you for making sure my son did not get kidnapped

y/brother: you are the luckiest person ever, meanwhile a bird shit on me this morning

y/ninsta: that's lucky

y/bff: jasper is gonna be the coolest kid on the playground

y/ninsta: he already was

y/ninsta posted a story

written: i'm trying to sort my hair out for tonight and jasp is worried about us missing our dinner reservations, when did my boy turn into a little man

charlesleclerc posted a story

ferrarifan posted a story

written: charles spotted in vegas almost two weeks before the race, wonder what he is doing here

y/ninsta posted a story

written: my heart is full

f1wags

liked by user4, user5, user6 and 18,930 others

f1wags: charles has spent the last ten days in the us and in this time he has been spotted with the same girl several times, they have also been accompanied by a young boy who seems to be his girlfriend's son.

view all 1,283 comments

user4: i'm actually happy for him

user5: you really shouldn't be posting pictures of her son

user6: charles drop her name i need to know everything about her rn

cl16updates posted a story

written: charles' rumoured girlfriend in vegas

charlesleclerc posted a story

written: vegas baby

y/ninsta

liked by y/bff, charlesleclerc, y/brother and 47 others

y/ninsta: the best few weeks ever

view all 12 comments

charlesleclerc: thank you for letting me in

y/ninsta: thank you for being here

y/brother: does this mean he is going to teach jasper how to drive when its time

y/ninsta: no fucking way

y/bff: so happy for you my love

y/friend: watching people on twitter try and work out who you are is the funniest thing ever

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[thatguywrites]

Vienna

Max Verstappen x Male!Reader

When Max is overworking himself to the bone in the preseason, and you need to talk some sense into him before he burns out

A/N I'm back after my one week break! I'm gonna try and write more fics to create a WIP list so that that doesn't happen, but I also encourage people to send in asks cause I'm gonna run out of ideas at some point :)

In the bustle of the preseason chaos, you hadn't had much time to spend with your lovely boyfriend. Between the incredibly boring F175, and testing instantly starting in the week following, Max was too busy running around, working out, taking calls, and providing feedback. It seemed the only times you saw him anymore were in the mornings and late at night, when he would slip into bed with you, muttering thanks for the certainly cold dinner you had left him, before he collapsing into sleep.

Finally, one day you managed to have him to yourself for a whole evening, as soon as his morning workouts were done, you would be able to push him into bed for some snacks, and movies, and boyfriend time. But, when Max arrived home, he was clearly still in work mode. Flurrying around the house, taking notes of things about the car that he hadn't told the engineers the day before, before hopping into the sim to do lap after lap in the model car Redbull had sent him.

Your kinder bars, fruits, and Netflix left untouched, you waited on the couch for him to finish. Maybe he just wanted to figure something out. Everyone gets like that; when something nags at them and they just need to get it right. He would be done by dinner.

By the time dinner came, you'd lost hope that he would come to bed naturally. It began to seem that you would have to do something yourself to get Max to eat with you and to finally relax. Walking over to his rig, you placed a kiss on his cheek, pulling his headphones back, "I'll be on the balcony, ok?"

Without looking away from the screen, he nodded, before shooing you away.

Once on the balcony, sitting down, you finally felt at rest. For a break moment you didn't have to worry about Max, or how he was working himself to the bone and you by extension. It was you, and the cool air of Monaco.

You got lost in your thoughts, but it could have been two or twenty minutes before you heard the door behind you open, and Max sit next to you, placing a blanket around your shoulders.

"You looked cold, in just a T-shirt" He said, softly. You noticed you could see his breath. Maybe it was cold.

"Didn't notice"

"Why out so long?"

Your own puff of breath appeared infront if you as you leaned back against your apartment, looking up at the now visable stars. "Thinking. Why were you on your sim so long? Isn't today supposed to be your day off?"

Max looked down, maybe ashamed. A small part of you felt good about that. That he felt bad about hurting you. But the rest of you just wanted to scoop him into a hug and never let go.

"I mean, last year's car worried me. And Lando's improved, and I'm sure Oscar'll be up there too this year, so I'm doing my best now to make sure we end up with the best car." You could feel his eyes on you, a nervous energy in your previous safe space, his warm hands wrapping around your cold ones, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry for worrying you, and ignoring you. I'm sorry that I haven't been prioritizing us at all. I'm sorry that I spent my entire afternoon off working." He pulled you into his arms, resting his head on yours, and pressing kisses atop your hair.

"I didn't want to push you, I know your work is important to you. I don't want to act as if I'm above racing to you, I know it's your life, but I want to be a part of your life too." At your words Max jolted away, eyes wide, with a small pout on his lips.

"No! No, no, no, racing is a huge part of my life, sure, but so are you. I'm sorry I haven't made that clear, I love you. I just worry that I'm not trying hard enough for the world sometimes, that I'll fall behind on track because of it", He trailed off, looking down into the busy streets

"Well, I'm sure the fastest man on Earth, who works harder than anyone else I've ever seen will manage to pose a threat, even if he takes a break for one night, no?"

Breaking out into a smile, Max responded, "Yeah"

Taglist (Comment or DM to be added)

@koalapastries @justaf1girl @spoonfulofmilo @lokisen

[dionysianchub]

Not-So-Small Update

[TW: Health Issues]

I'll admit I've been struggling. I'd gained weight so quick and easy before, but the last several months have proved to be trying. A good friend and amazing human got me in contact with their partner, a feeder who works in obesity/weight loss research (proof that miracles happen tbh, a living breathing unicorn), with the hope that they could help me figure out how to break my plateau. We only had a brief back and forth on my gaining issues before they encouraged me to get tested for diabetes. As it turns out, there was a very big reason I was struggling to gain. The test results came back on Monday night and sure enough, I'm diabetic.

I've been dealing with a lot of mixed feelings the past two days; panic, shame, anxiety, fear (and maybe some slight kinky pride that I pushed myself this far) because as hot as health issues are in fantasy, I want to be able to live a sustainable life alongside this kink and this served as a rough wakeup call. But thanks to these two wonderful humans I'm able to maintain hope in what felt in the moment like my world was crumbling.

Short term, I need to put gaining on pause and focus on getting my body to stop revolting against me. Unfortunately I may need to lose some weight to achieve this, but I've been honest with my doctor about my preference in size and she only wants to see me lose 5% (12lbs) just to reduce my insulin resistance, improve my blood sugar, and help with my cholesterol (which is also pretty high as well).

Long term, I do plan to return to gaining once my A1C is within normal range again. With the support and help of these wonderful people, we're all confident that I can continue to gain weight in a more healthful way that doesn't push me back into the danger zone, as it were.

I'll still be around, and I'll still be making content (my feeder and I plan to make more content together, even if the food can't be a co-star). I'd also love to hear from any other feedee/gainers with type 2 diabetes that can share their experiences, tips, recipes... Anything would help.

And as always, thanks for being here. I'm forever grateful for the connections I've made in this community and I would never have made it this far in my journey without the support I've found here. Y'all the best. 💜