#but I just do not have the energy to go into them

[the-offside-rule]

Joe Burrow (Cinccinati Bengals) - Game Day and Grammys

Requested: no but someone asked about NFL imagines and the Pro Bowl and Grammys were on so how could I miss this opportunity?

Prompt: Joe Burrow x singer!girlfriend

Warnings: none other than it being long and full of fluff

Y/n sat in the plush chair of her hotel suite, a stylist curling sections of her hair while another dabbed powder on her already flawless face. The room buzzed with quiet excitement—her team murmuring about last-minute dress fittings, run-throughs, and camera angles. After all, tonight was the biggest night of her career. Five Grammy nominations. Five.

But her attention? Completely divided. On the sleek flatscreen across the room, the Pro Bowl was in full swing. Her boyfriend, Joe Burrow, was out there, tossing passes and leading drives while she got glammed up for music’s biggest stage. She’d wished she could be there, but the Grammys and the game fell on the same night, and there was no way to be in two places at once.

Her phone vibrated in her lap. Another text from Joe.

Joe: This is so much fun. Wish you were here

She grinned, typing back quickly.

Y/n: Wish I was too. But you better be focused, Burrow. No interceptions.

Another buzz.

Joe: No INTs. Just vibes. Also… scored a touchdown. No big deal.

Y/n let out a laugh, her lips quirking as she typed her reply.

Y/n: A touchdown?? Damn, you haven’t scored one of those in a while.

Her stylist stifled a giggle behind her. "Good news?" She smirked. "Joe just ran one in himself." Her phone buzzed again.

Joe: Wow. The slander.

Joe: But fair.

Joe: Good luck tonight, superstar.

Joe: Ja'Marr said if you win two tonight, that makes it 9 grammys you have ever won

Joe: And guess what my number is?

Y/n chuckled at the coincidence. No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, they were always supporting each other.

Y/n: Alright, QB1. Ill get the Grammy's you worry about not getting tagged.

With one last glance at the game, she turned back to the mirror, ready to take on her own championship night.

The flashbulbs were blinding as Y/n posed on the red carpet, her dress hugging her perfectly while she effortlessly smiled at the cameras. The energy was electric; reporters calling out her name, fans screaming behind the barricades. She was used to this, but tonight felt different. Bigger.

As she moved down the carpet, she began her interviews, each asking the same old question that she had rehearsed about a million times. How does it feel to be nominated 5 times? She had been nominated for Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Record of the Year, Pop Vocal Album and Music Video of the Year. She had been to the grammys before but she had only ever been nominated twice each year. Granted, she did win them, racking up an astonishing 7 grammys in just 4 years, but her once edgey music had shifted to softer love songs, all thanks to a certain quarter back.

She smiled as she moved on down the carpet to her last interviewer, a little kid who she had seen on tik tok time and time again. "Oh my gosh, hello!" She smiled as she did her best to get down onto the kid's level. Her calf were killing her from the heels standing, nevermind squatting down. "You look beautiful. I love the dress." She said. "Thank you! And you look so beautiful too." The child replied. "I have a few questions for you if thats okay?"

"Of course! I would love to hear them." Y/n said warmly as she held her own microphone. "So, obviously this is your record for the most amount of Gammys that you have been nominated for. If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that this would be happening, what would you say?" Finally a way to answer the question of how she felt about being nominated that didn't involve her rehearsed answer. "I think I would tell my younger self to keep going, to believe in myself and don't put the guitar down because it's gotten me this far." Y/n replied. "Your album Nine Sunday Mornings was a very abrupt change in your music. It was more edgey and angsty the last time you were here-" Y/n laughed at the very blunt question. "Why do you think this change happened or is it because you just got bored of that genre?" Now that was a good question.

"I mean, as you said it was a big change. I mean any love song I wrote before was scrapped because I thought it was too sappy so I stuck to breakup songs or rage songs. I think the change came in meeting Joe. From the songs right down to the title it's all him. I remember the very night I met him I stayed up nearly all night writing about the like 5 minute encounter we had and now it's nominated tonight so. I have to give credit where credit is due." She answered. "Have you been keeping up with the Pro Bowl?" Y/n laughed, adjusting the Grammy-branded microphone in her hand. "Of course! I have it on in my hotel room. Joe keeps texting me updates, so I think I might have a better play-by-play than some of the commentators."

Her manager tapped her shoulder to tell her to make her way inside, so she bid the mini-reporter farewell and walked in to the packed venue.

Once inside, Y/n glanced around, trying to spot her team. The Grammys were always a production, but tonight, the room felt even bigger. Row after row of tables and glowing stage lights. She turned in circles, scanning the room. Where were they? Her manager, her producer, anyone?

"Y/n?"

She spun around to see Jack approaching, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. "Hey, are you okay?" She let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, I just… I can’t find my seat. I have no idea where my team is." Before Jack could respond, a familiar voice chimed in.

"She can sit with us!"

Y/n turned to see Taylor Swift standing a few feet away, a warm smile on her face. Taylor, dressed in an elegant yet edgy ensemble, motioned toward her table. "If you don’t mind sitting with us, of course." Y/n hesitated for a second. She didn’t want to intrude- Taylor was with her own crew, and this was a huge night for her, too. "Are you sure?" She asked cautiously.

"Of course! Come on." Taylor said, looping an arm around her gently as they started walking toward the table. "Besides, we have a lot to talk about. I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting." Y/n chuckled, relaxing a little as she took a seat beside her. "Are you going to the Super Bowl?" Taylor asked after a moment.

Y/n shook her head. "No, I’ve never actually been. I told myself I wouldn’t go until Joe is the one playing in it." Taylor’s brows lifted in amusement. "Oh that is goals."

"Plus, I’m heading to his family’s house to watch it with them." She added. "I think it’ll be more special that way." Taylor smiled knowingly. "There’s nothing like watching a game with the people who love him most. Honestly, I think you guys are gonna be there next year." Y/n nodded, already picturing herself in the Burrow family’s living room, wearing one of Joe’s sweatshirts, surrounded by his parents and siblings. It felt right. "Honestly, I don't wanna be too picky but I want a Bengals and 49ers Superbowl. That would cure the world, I think."

"That would be a good one."

Just then, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show. Y/n took a deep breath, ready to take on the night—Grammys, football updates, and all.

Joe stretched his arms over his head as he stepped into the hotel lobby, still buzzing from the Pro Bowl. The game had been fun, a rare chance to play a little looser, joke around with the guys, and even run in a touchdown himself—something Y/n was sure to remind him about later. His teammates followed behind him, still hyped up from the day. "Alright." Ja’Marr announced, clapping his hands. "Let’s turn on the Grammys. Gotta see Y/n win some trophies since Joe isn’t bringing any silverwear home."

Joe grinned as he nudged Ja'Marr for that dig, leading the way to the suite where they all piled onto the couches, flipping the TV on just in time to catch the ceremony in full swing. The room filled with snacks, drinks, and casual conversation, but anytime Y/n appeared on the screen, the guys would nudge Joe, who was watching intently, phone in hand, ready to text her.

Then came Best Pop-Vocal Album of the Year.

Joe sat forward, hands clasped as they listed the nominees. He knew how much work Y/n had put into this album—how many late nights, how many times she’d called him exhausted but excited, how much of her heart was poured into every track.

"And the Grammy goes to…"

Not her.

Joe exhaled, lips pressing together as he watched her smile and clap for the winner. She was graceful as ever, but he knew her well enough to see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "She said she was gonna be surprised if she got that one. She like, knew Sabrina was winning that hands down."

Then came Record of the Year.

Not her again.

"She got robbed." Russell Wilson muttered. "Bro, you're gonna be the first one singing Not Like Us at the halftime show next weekend." Lamar Jackson replied. "She's in like the toughest categories." James Cook added. Joe didn’t say anything, just shook his head. He hated seeing her not get what she deserved, but he knew Y/n. Knew she’d keep smiling, keep pushing forward. And damn it, he’d keep cheering her on, just like she always did for him.

It didn't matter. 2 down, 3 to go. Music Video of the Year.

Joe sat up straight. He knew this one mattered to her, too. Her video had been a passion project, something she’d fought to bring to life exactly the way she envisioned it. The competition was stacked—the other nominees had incredible visuals, and any of them could take it. Y/n sat at her table, her hands clasped in her lap, holding her breath. Joe could practically feel her nerves through the screen.

"She’s got this." He murmured. "She’s got this, she’s got this, she’s got this, come on, baby."

The presenter opened the envelope.

"And the Grammy goes to… Y/n Y/l/n!"

Y/n gasped, letting out the breath she’d been holding. Taylor pulled her into a tight hug as the entire table erupted into cheers. Joe leapt off the couch, throwing his hands in the air. "Let's go! Yes! Wooh!" The suite exploded with excitement- Ja’Marr was shouting, some of the guys were recording Joe’s reaction, and others were laughing as Joe jumped up, singing along to the snippet of Y/n’s song that played as she made her way to the stage.

On the screen, Y/n’s smile was blinding, eyes slightly glossy as she accepted her award. Joe grinned, pride swelling in his chest. She’d done it. Just like she always did. "Oh my god, wow." She began. "I’ll be honest, I did not expect Music Video of the Year. There had been some amazing Music Videos so I just wanted to congratulate my fellow nominees and their directors." Joe clapped as he listened to her. "I want to thank my team, the fans, my family and all of you who voted for the video. My boyfriend Joe of course, who may or may not be still playing his game of tag football but I'm gonna thank him anyway." His face grew red. "I think that's all I have to say to be honest. Maybe I'll see you up here again pretty soon."

Joe lounged back on the couch, finally feeling like he could relax a little after all the emotional whiplash of the night ao far and he was still buzzing from it. "She’s performing next." Ja’Marr pointed out, nodding toward the TV. Joe sat up again, straightening his hoodie as the camera panned to the stage. The lights dimmed, and then—there she was.

His girl.

Y/n stood center stage, bathed in golden light, singing a balld version of her nominated song. She wore the most stunning outfit—a gold sparkling, elegant number that hugged her perfectly. She looked ethereal. "Jesus Christ." Joe muttered under his breath before saying a little louder, "Her outfit is so pretty." Some of the guys laughed. "Yeah, it is." Ja'Marr teased with a smirk. "You good over there, Burrow?" Russell asked, causing all the other guys to take notice of his blushing face and tease him further.

Joe just waved them off, eyes locked on the screen. Then, just as the song picked up, she reached down, grabbed the edges of her outfit, and-

Riiiipppp

The elegant gown was gone, revealing a bold, dazzling second outfit underneath—sleek, fun, and perfect for dancing. "Oh my God." Joe groaned, immediately hiding his face in his hands as the entire room exploded. The guys were shouting, laughing, some recording his reaction as they all clapped and cheered. "Ayyy! Okay, Y/n!" Ja'Marr called.

Joe shook his head, chuckling as his ears burned. He peeked through his fingers just in time to see her seamlessly transition into the next part of the performance, moving with ease, completely in her element. She was dancing, smiling, engaging the crowd like she was born for this moment. "I didn't know she could move like that! Damn!" Trey said.

Joe dropped his hands, watching as Y/n held the mic out, getting the entire crowd to sing along with her. She looked so happy, completely in control of the stage, like she was having the time of her life. Joe smiled. His teammates might have been teasing him, but he didn’t care. He was just so damn proud of her. As the song ended,she looked aroukd for the camera that would be zooming in on her. She spotted it and winked, before blowing a kiss right to it. Joe reached for the imaginaru kiss and put it to his heart as the guys teased him even further for it.

Joe sat back against the couch, his arm draped over the back as the next category came up—Song of the Year.

"Alright, this one’s huge." Ja’Marr said, leaning forward. Joe nodded, eyes locked on the screen. Y/n had poured everything into this song and she loved it the most for reason unknown to him, and even though she’d already won Music Video of the Year, he wanted this for her. Badly.

The nominees were stacked— some of the biggest songs of the year, including Y/n’s. The room quieted as the presenter opened the envelope.

"nd the Grammy goes to… Kendrick Lamar, Not Like Us!"

Joe exhaled, shaking his head, but before he could react, he spotted Y/n on screen, grinning and dancing along to the snippet of Not Like Us that played through the venue speakers. Joe burst out laughing. "She doesn’t seem too bothered." Trey snickered. "Bro, she looks kinda tipsy."

The whole room chuckled as they watched Y/n dancing up out of her seat singing along as Kendrick made his way to the stage. She was still clapping and smiling, showing nothing but love for the win, and Joe couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly cool she was about it. "She’s just vibin'." Joe said with a smirk, shaking his head.

And then finally came Album of the Year.

Her final nomination.

Joe sat up one last time, his heart pounding a little harder. He could see Y/n on screen, hands clasped together, her lips pressed tight as she waited. The tension in the room was thick, even through the television.

The presenter opened the envelope.

"And the Grammy goes to… Y/n Y/l/n, Nine Sunday Mornings!"

She didn’t move.

She didn’t react at first—just sat there, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Joe felt like the air had been sucked out of the room before he erupted. "Yes! Let's go baby!" He jumped up again, fists in the air as his teammates laughed, recording his reaction for the second time that night. "That’s my girl! That’s my girl!" He cheered, pacing the room as the suite filled with whoops and applause.

Back on the screen, Y/n finally stood, still in complete shock. As she made her way up to the stage, she kept shaking her head, her mouth open as if she still couldn’t believe it. She took the award in her hands, staring down at it, blinking before looking around. The crowd chuckled. She looked up at the mic, then back at the award. "What?" She squeaked.

Laughter rippled through the audience. Joe grinned, shaking his head. He could practically hear her thoughts—How? Against all those incredible albums? She took a deep breath, exhaling sharply, still looking down at the trophy. "I—I don’t even know what to say, honestly I'm a little drunk so-" Joe smiled proudly, watching her collect herself and begin her speech. She had done it. Two Grammys in one night. And even though he wasn’t there in person, he cheered for her just as loudly as she did for him on Sundays.

"I want to thank the incredible Jack Antanoff for helping me produce this album first and foremost, my team also. But there is one person in particular who I will ramble on about because he was the inspiration for every single song I wrote since the 9th of December 2023, when we first met." Joe felt his eyes watering upon hearing it. He didn’t lile seeing her cry, it often meant he would cry too. "The album itself is a hommage to the fact that it took just nine sunday mornings for us to decide we wanted to become a couple and honestly, those 9 Sunday mornings were the best I could have ever lived through because I got to fall in love with the love of my life." Joe wiped his eyes, lookong down as Ja'Marr patted his back in support. "Joe, wherever you are, I wanted you to know that this award is for you, you can put it right next to the Heisman and my other 8 Grammy's."

Joe chuckled lightly as her little dig. "And just in case this wasnt a clincidence enough already- I'm going to shout out Ja'Marr Chase for this information- this is my ninth Grammy, and its for Cinccinati's number 9." The microphone cut out, singalling that her time for speaking was up. She mouthed a very animated 'I love you' to the camera before smiling and heading off the stage.

As soon as Y/n sat back down at her table, she reached for her phone. Her hands were slightly shaking—part adrenaline, part sheer excitement. The night had been a whirlwind, and there was only one person she needed to talk to right now. She hit Joe’s contact, pressing the phone to her ear as the Grammys continued around her. The line barely rang once before he picked up.

"Baby!" She let out a breathless laugh. "Joe!"

"Oh my God!" He said, and she could hear the pure excitement in his voice. "You were insane. I mean first of all, two Grammys? And then that performance? What was that outfit change? You’re trying to kill me?" Y/n giggled, running a hand through her hair. "Did you like it?"

"Like it? Babe, I almost had a heart attack. These guys aren't gonna let me live it down." She laughed again, picturing Joe hiding his face in his hands while all his guys teased him. "I was just thinking about you the whole time." She admitted, voice a little softer now. "I figured you were watching."

"Of course I was watching." He said immediately. "Are you kidding? We had the Grammys on as soon as we got back. I was cheering for you all night." Y/n smiled, glancing down at her awards sitting in front of her. "It still doesn’t feel real. I mean…Album of the Year? What?"

"You earned that, Y/n. No one deserved it more." She bit her lip, warmth spreading through her chest. "I mean, Billie should have won it." She replied. "Oh my God, I'm gonna cry again."

"No, don't cry." He said quickly. "Not unless it’s happy tears." She laughed, leaning back in her chair. "How was the Pro Bowl? I feel like I barely got to ask you." Joe chuckled. "It was fun. I mean we lost, but it was fun."

"What was the score?" She asked. "Like 76 to 63 or somethin' like that?" He looked around for nods of approval. "Did I mention I scored?" Y/n chuckled. "Yeah and as I said before I haven’t seen you do that in a while."

"Okay, woah." He deadpanned, and she could hear his teammates laughing in the background. "I’m kidding." She teased. "I’m proud of you."

"I'm proud of you too, baby." Y/n exhaled, her whole body finally starting to relax after the chaos of the night. "I just wish you were here."

"Yeah, I know." Joe said softly. "But I’ll see you tomorrow. And then we can celebrate properly." She grinned. "Deal."

"I love you, Baby."

"Love you too, Shiesty "

As she hung up, she clutched her phone to her chest, still smiling. It had been a night to remember— and she couldn’t wait to get home to him.

[chryso-poeia]

”There’s a tribe of humans that are artists, innovators or cultural influencers or those types of things. Who have a lot of adverse energy coming at them at all times. Because things that people don’t understand, they like to criticize, or kill, assassinate. Especially if it’s not, in this society: fashioned for the consumption of male entertainment, as a woman. They quickly want to destroy the energy of it and kill it. They’re not doing it on purpose, they don’t know, how could they know? How can i know? What i’m doing and creating at the time? It’s just the way it is, and it’s part of that tax that comes with being an innovator, or creator. You know, you have to take everything with it. And that’s how the blessings keep coming. You have to accept all of the things that come with your art.”

-

”I can tell you what woke means, it just means being aware. Being in alignment, with nature. Because if you’re in alignment with that: you’re aware of everything that’s going on. And it’s not only in the political arena, that means with your health, that means in your relationships. That means in your home. That means in your car. That means in your sleep.”

- Erykah Badu, during an interview with Ari Melber for MSNBC.

“Even though you go through struggle and strife, to keep a healthy life, I stay woke (I stay woke).” — Master Teacher, written by Georgia Anne Muldrow

Badu

[naniwatig3r]

CONTOUR LINES (18+)

Mingyu x artstudent!Femreader

Summary: You’ve finally broken up with your boyfriend Mingyu. Ignoring him has been hard, but you were finally at peace. But he had other plans, as he shows up to the figure drawing class you T.A…. And as the model.

Warnings: Unexplained breakup (im lazy lol), angst, cute fluff sometimes, art school stress, public nudity, public unprotected penetrative sex (no one is around though!), quickie

a/n: this was a idea i got while messing around with my friend who has a thing for mingyu, lol.

Word count: uhhh, around 7k ? I can’t remember 😅

————————

Another miss call.

Great, you thought, the tenth missed call from your ex boyfriend Mingyu this week.

It’s been about a month since you broke up with your ex, Kim Mingyu. It was an odd pairing in the first place. You met him coincidentally in the quad the beginning of the year, as you sat at the edge of the school fountain. Your sketchbook open, as you drew the scenery and people around you. A normal activity you did as an arts student.

You were clearly in the zone, drawing the fold in a random college student’s arm, before a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Whoa, you can draw.”

Your eyes snap up, seeing a towering figure, completely blocking your view. No shit, you thought.

“Yeah, I guess.” You say plainly, hoping your short answer would deter this guy. But then the sunlight is back on the page you’re drawing, and you feel his warm presence sit right next to you. Maybe he’s just sitting down to sit down, so you try and finish your life drawing of the current student, but they were gone. Probably going to their next class.

Huffing, you still for a moment to put your pencil down.

“I wish I could draw like that,” You hear, as you glance to your side. Furrowing your eyebrows in irritation as the man leans over to stare directly into your sketchbook. “You’re a really good drawer.” He says in awe.

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” You say curtly, as he continues to stare at your sketches like he’s at a museum. These sketches were nothing compared to a Degas or something, yet he stared at them like it was, his brown eyes flickering around in interest.

He clears his throat, as he looks up to meet your eyes. He smiles, a toothy one where you notice how sharp his canines were. Cute.

He pulls his sleeve up from his wrist to his elbow, holding his large hand out, “Mingyu. Kim Mingyu.” He says, introducing himself. You nod, reluctantly shaking his hand, his grip tight and strong.

“Y/n.” You say back shortly, eyeing him, wondering how long this tall man was going to bother you.

He lets go of your hand, as he adjusts his position to turn more towards you. One leg over the other, leaning forward. His bangs falling so perfectly across his eyebrow, that it made you narrow your eyes. It’s crazy, people like this seriously exist huh?

“Do you do art or something?” No shit.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m a fine arts major.” You respond, giving him a strained polite smile. It felt like you had to, the way this guy has been beaming at you like a puppy as you give the driest replies.

He grins, “Whoa, no way. Thats cool,” He praises, “I’m—“

The rest of the meet cute didn’t matter.

After this, you kept bumping into him, coincidence you thought at first, but thinking back… he had no reason to be near the art school area of the campus.

He always asked to see your sketchbook, or whatever was in your portfolio folder as you tried to get to your studio. Even helping you carry your supplies and folders inside, and once he learned where you worked he came with iced coffee when he could.

At 3 am, he’d lay on the floor of your messy studio, watching you as you mix another color on your palette. Your sweatshirt pushed to your elbows, paint on your hands and face as you work on the gigantic canvas for your final.

“You don’t have to be here, you know,” You say a bit softly, your eyes tired despite your multiple energy drinks. “It must be boring to watch me throw paint for the last few hours.”

He shakes his head, sitting up as he looks at you with his puppy like eyes. “No, I like it. You’re so focused…” He trails, “I didn’t think art would be this hard.”

You glare at him for that remark, making him immediately tread back. His mouth gaping open and closing like a fish, “Ah! Not like that it’s easy — just that you’re so passionate you know?” He explains, throwing his hands around.

Rolling your eyes, you put your brush back into the muddy cup of water. “Why? Engineering not doing it for you?” You ask lazily, as you pull your claw clip out of your hair. Massaging your scalp from the tension.

Mingyu’s eyes focused on you, his cheeks slightly flushing. Eyes roving over how strands of your hair effortlessly frame your face. He clears his throat, “Uh, no. I like it. I’ve always been good at studying, and I get the material so,” He says, as he scratches his head.

“But I guess, it’s different watching you. Your eyes are different when you’re drawing, painting, sculpting. Whatever.” He says quietly.

“Different?” You muse, standing up to stretch your legs. Mingyu following instinctively, his tall frame dwarfing you.

He nods, “Mhm, yeah. I thought art was just a major for people who didn’t want to do anything, but getting to know you…” he says, as he follows you to your studio table. As you open the most recent energy drink you got from the vending machine. “You just don’t stop. Like you’re meant to do it.” He breathes.

His genuine words make you raise an eyebrow, turning to him. You give him a small smile, making his heart rate jump. “Yeah? It’s like you, I think.” You say, taking a sip of that battery acid of a drink. “I’ve just been doing this since forever. Natural to keep going.” You say nonchalantly, but Mingyu looks at you like you’re a living genius.

“Thats whats so cool,” He gushes, “You’re just made to do this.” He says, as he glances at your current work in progress. A large canvas with pleasing colors, his eye being drawn to the right areas. The beautifully rendered figure, framed with all the right strokes.

He looks back at you, with such an adoration you think it’s hallucinations from doing so many allnighters.

“Ah,” he starts, as he moves his long legs to shuffle through his bag, pulling out some tupperware. “I forgot, I was making uh, some dinner earlier and I had leftovers.” He lies, knowing full well he made it for you. He turns around, opening the tupperware to reveal a lunch box of different side dishes and protein. It could rival any meal inspo on pinterest, as he even carefully cut out seaweed to make cute faces.

You snicker, making Mingyu’s cheeks pink. “Leftovers huh?” You say, as you grab the lunchbox from him. Your fingers brushing over his, a welcome warmth from the cold air conditioning of the studio. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I was just gonna make some ramen.”

“Yeah no problem,” He strains, smiling. “You need energy to keep on going right? At least eat well if you’re gonna sacrifice your sleep.”

You take a bite, and even though it was cold, you nod in approval at the taste. The annoyingly large man could cook. Your reaction makes Mingyu grin, as you can see shamelessly how much that did to his ego.

“Still, you should go you know?” You say, as you remember Mingyu talking about his week a few days ago as you painted. “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”

Oh? He doesn’t focus on the fact that you’re asking him to go. Only that you remembered his schedule. He grins, “You remembered huh?”

You roll your eyes, “Of course I did. You told me.” You say, your own cheeks reddening from how embarrassed you felt from Mingyu’s reaction. Why was he so excited?

He shakes his head, “It’s fine, I was reviewing earlier. It’s in the afternoon anyways.”

You finish the lunchbox, washing it down with your energy drink before going to pick up a new large paint brush. “Fine by me then,” you sigh, not bothering to argue with him. It was weird the first time he accompanied you on an allnighter, but Mingyu’s presence became a normal occurrence since then.

And there he was, sitting obediently like a dog next to you as you continued painting. Your playlist ending hours ago, as the only sounds are the strokes of your brush, and the breathing of both of you.

It was like this for a while, until near the end of the year. This time, you were running out of steam.

Maybe it was all the all nighters the whole year, or the fact you got sick right before finals, but you were stuck in your studio once more. Slaving away as you work on your third painting of the night, trying to get your exhibition finished before sunlight.

You hear the sound of the door opening. He had his own key now — you copied one at one point since he always was knocking. Mingyu coming in with late night take out in one hand, clad in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, ready to tackle the night with you.

You don’t even bother looking behind you, his familiar presence and cologne already telling you who it is. “Hey,” He says softly, putting the food down as he notices your tired state. It was like you were running on fumes, the amount of empty redbulls and monsters around your studio telling him all he needed to know.

You grunt, “Yeah, hey.” You say tiredly, as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. Paint smearing on your cheek. Mingyu comes over with a napkin from the takeout container, huffing as he wipes your cheek with it.

“Whens the last time you took a break?” He asks, a bit worried. Despite hanging out with you for so long, he wouldn’t say he knew anything about art. But he knew you. And the way your wrist movements against the canvas were sluggish, and the way your eyebrows furrowed as the strokes didn’t land and look the way you wanted… he knew you were at your limit.

“Doesn’t matter, I have another painting after this.” You say roughly, “Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I should have painted when I was sick. At least worked on the concepts and colors so I didn’t have to figure it out right now.” You rant, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

Mingyu frowns, “No, y/n. What about a fifteen minute break? I got burgers, it’ll help.” He says, but your face isn’t budging, like the strict deadlines for the paintings.

You curse, “God, Mingyu, I can’t stop. All the fucking pieces look like shit, if I stall any longer I’ll never finish this ass of an exhibition.” You say shakily, as you haphazardly throw your brush into the water cup, the muddy water splashing out. You grab another brush to pick up a new color.

He looks around the 10 other pieces littered around the room drying, he doesn’t get it, and he never would. They all looked great, cohesive despite your protests. “Y/n, they look great. You gotta take a break you know? Maybe it’ll help. Maybe your eyes will like, reset or something. You’ve been looking at this painting for hours.” He says, trying to reason.

You don’t listen, as you flick your wrist harshly to create a quick line of color.

clack!

You wince, dropping your brush to clatter on the floor. Your wrist acting up at the worst time, as you curse under your breath. Mingyu’s hands go up instinctively to hold your wrist, holding it still.

“God, now my wrist is flaring up too. Great, just what I need!” You curse bitterly, your head down.

Mingyu holds your wrist gently, despite your angry state you don’t push him away as he gingerly inspects your wrist. “Hey, come on. Lets take a break, and then we can wrap your hand alright?” He says softly, trying to coax you.

He leans down to see your hidden face, and it breaks his heart. Hot tears welling in your eyes from stress, frustration, and the impending deadline.

He doesn’t think twice, leaning down to hold you into an embrace, pulling you off your stool into his arms. Tight, the tips of your shoes barely grazing the floor. You can’t help but cry into his shoulder, “God, why am I so bad? I can’t show anyone any of this,” You sob, as Mingyu rubs your back. His grip tightening around you, holding you close as you basically collapse into his arms.

“Hey, y/n, you’ve just been working too long. Lets take a break alright? It’ll look better once you rest your eyes a bit, I promise.” He coos, “I’ve got some burgers and sweet potato fries, even convinced them to give me extra —“

“Mingyu, why are you always here?” You ask bluntly, choking back your tears. Through the whole year you’ve been tolerating him getting closer. First, random conversations when you bumped into each other on campus, then visiting the art school, coming to your studio, staying to keep you company. You never once tried to push him away, but you didn’t understand how he hasn’t been turned off yet. Your all nighters, your insecurities, the way you reject his invitations to campus parties and events to work. It was all a mystery, especially as you crash out in his arms, over some acrylic and oil on canvas. This must look pathetic to him.

His eyes are a bit panicked at the question, “I uh, do you not want me to be?” He asks reluctantly, still holding you close.

You sniff, your hand against his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie into your fist.

“No, I just... Thank you.” You say quietly into his chest, and Mingyu felt his head spin. You could definitely hear it, he thought, the way his heart was pounding out his chest. How you relied on him, telling him to stay. If it wasn’t for the fact you were leaning on him to stay up, he’d probably melt into a puddle on the floor.

Mingyu takes you to the table, helping you sit down on one of the comfier chairs. A foldable one with a pillow he brought at one point, so he could watch you comfortably. He boasted once — y/n look! Found this by the dumpster!

You let out a deep sigh as you sit down, Mingyu bending down to his knees to look at you eye level. A hand to your cheek as you close your eyes tiredly. “Hey, you okay?” He asks, searching your face.

You nod, “Yeah, um, sorry,” You sigh, “I’m just — I’m just stressed. I didn’t mean to have a breakdown in front of you.” You say apologetically, embarrassed by it. But he shakes his head, not affected by it. In fact, it probably caused him to fall harder, seeing how hard you work.

“Don’t apologize,” He says, pushing strands of your hair back. You look up at him, straight into his brown eyes. The way he looks at you so fondly, worried, that his bottom lip juts out slightly as he observes you. The way his fingers felt along your cheek, how he’s warmed you up in the cold room, brought takeout for you.

Fuck, how his hair is tousled under the hood, and the fact his face was a sight for sore eyes after looking at your paintings all day. Something with actual 3d planes staring at you, instead of flat canvas. Maybe it was the all nighters, the fact you’re on multiple energy drinks on an empty stomach, or that Mingyu is there for you.

You lean forward, shutting your eyes shut as you push your lips against his.

It’s warm, soft… might even get lost in it if—

You pull back after a second, as you see Mingyu’s wide eyes.

Oh fuck, did you read this wrong? Shit, at least you can blame it on lack of sleep—

A pair of lips crash into yours again, this time, you part yours as Mingyu’s warm lips mold into yours. Its warm, and comforting and everything nice, as you grab his collar to pull him closer. Making him stumble forward as he holds onto the edge of the chair to steady himself close to you.

You let out a soft breath as Mingyu snakes his free hand around to the small or your back, pushing you close as possible to him. Mingyu compensating for your lack of energy with his, as he kisses you deeply, something he’s always wanted to do. Every since he watched you draw random people at that campus fountain.

He pulls back as you pathetically try to chase his lips, as he kisses you chastely before speaking. “Y/n,” He breathes, “Fuck, you don’t know how long I wanted to do that.” He confesses, as he holds your face in his large hands.

You smile softly, “Mingyu, I—“

The box of charcoals clatter, as you accidentally drop it right next to the table of supplies. Sheepishly you bow at the students in class, not meaning to disrupt their focus.

You bend down to pick up the charcoal. What are you doing? It may be the third figure drawing class today, but dropping a box of pencils as you recount your days with Mingyu was horrible. Terrible.

Especially when you boasted to one of your friends as you shared a meal, Ah, Kim Mingyu? Thats over. Lets just focus on grad review.

You sigh, standing back up as you slide the box of art supplies on the table. Checking the time, you slide the notifications of Mingyu’s missed calls away. It was five minutes before class started, where the hell was the model?

And as if on cue, the other T.A. comes skitting towards you, pushing her glasses up as she avoids the boxes of supplies around the room. “Ah, Y/n—“ She starts, talking quietly to not cause alarm.

She stops in front of you, as you furrow your brows. Today the professor wasn’t in. As the consistent T.A., she trusted you to handle today with no substitutes. It wasn’t anything hard. You just helped set up the drawing horses and supplies, adjusted the lights and made sure the models were comfortable. It was easier especially when another T.A. was assigned to assist you today.

“Hm? What?” You ask, as you dust your hands.

She takes a deep breath, “Um, well, the model got food poisoning.” She starts. Leaning in so other students didn’t hear. “I just learned this right now, she’s like in the bathroom in the main hall throwing up like crazy.”

You frown, “What? Is she okay?” You say, straightening up, walking towards the front door grabbing your jacket off one of the stray art horse chairs.

She follows clumsily, “She’s fine! But she can’t model for this class. I know you’re in charge, but I panicked and just called whoever was on the emergency model list.”

You stop, causing the other T.A. to bump into your back, with a little squeak. A small what should have been insignificant memory flooding back.

“You’re TAing now? Seriously?” Mingyu asks lightly, as he fiddles with a loose strand of your sweater, the rough pads of his fingers pulling on it.

You slap his hand away disapprovingly, causing him to pout. “Yeah, just for figure drawing. I want to make a little money anyways, but working at the campus cafe is too time consuming.” You respond, as you continue to draw in your sketchbook. Outlining the foliage in front of you with your pen.

“Hm, what would that mean?” He asks, leaning forward to wrap an arm around your shoulder. Careful not to disturb your drawing, as he rests his chin on your closer shoulder. Watching you draw was his favorite past time nowadays.

“Just like, setting up, taking care of the figure drawing models. Things like that.” You respond absentmindedly.

“Models? Like, thats a job?” He asks, making you crack a smile. You forget how normal people knew nothing about art. You’re just glad he was openminded about basically everything.

You turn to look at him, “Yeah, the school hires people to pose for drawing. Its for studying.” You respond, as you tap your pen against the tip of his nose, where his beloved mole resided. Making him scrunch his nose, the corners of his lips turning up.

“Actually, I should write the emergency contact list. The professor updates every semester of models to contact if theres no shows, and the et cetera. I should just do it now so I don’t forget —“

“Add me on there then.”

You blink.

“Huh, what?” You say confused, looking at him with raised brows.

He straightens up, “You heard me. Add my number to that list. It sounds interesting,” He defends, his tone light.

You shake your head, smiling. “Mingyu, you don’t get it. You have to stand there naked, and do different poses every five to thirty minutes. Its not an easy thing to do.” You say, dismissing his words as nonsense. Sometimes he was too eager to try things just because they existed in your world.

Mingyu doesn’t falter. “Yeah I know. I just, it sounds cool. Also having a bunch of people drawing me, I don’t know… sounds nice. Also its like emergency contact right?” He says shrugging, “It’s not like it’ll actually happen. I know you’d never call me if it was an emergency, but just add me on it. If all models decide they’re not feeling it that day.” He suggests lightly.

You stare at him still in disbelief, narrowing your eyes. He scoffs, leaning forward to lean his forehead against yours as a challenge. A little goofy smile on his face, “What? Come on. Just add me to the list.”

The rational side of you knew this would never actually happen. Mingyu had no qualifications, and besides, there was a dozen other numbers to call before him. So you suck it up, sighing, writing his name down. Just for the sake that he’d shut up about it.

“Okay, fine.”

Your heart beats, eyes wide as you try to calm yourself. You didn’t want to release your anger against this girl for trying to fix the situation. It was your fault, really, in the first place to put his number on there. But this never was something that has happened before.

“Which number picked up?” You ask calmly, clasping your hands together as you focus on not exploding on your fellow T.A.

“Uh, just called the first one. He said he was on campus so he was down, and we only have five minutes till class—“

“Jesus, his name please?”

“Kim Mingyu.”

Oh fuck. Fuuuucckkkkk.

Mouth wide, and panicked eyes, you start to speak, before you hear the opening of the classroom door. You turn, and your face practically goes pale.

There he was — Kim Mingyu, just in a simple coat and pants. His eyes immediately landing on you. Its only been a month, but he cut his hair. Slightly shorter than you remember, as you tilt your head.

Stop it. You have to act normal.

You take a deep breath, trying to act professional. There was no time to question why the hell he’d even pick up and walk all the way here. Or why your heart was beating so fast, just looking at him.

“Um, escort him to the dressing room area.” You start, prying your eyes from Mingyu to the other T.A. “There should be a clean robe there too.” You inform, patting her arm as you beeline straight away from them.

You find a haphazardly stacked amount of newsprint, focusing on making all the edges match as you calm your heart. It’s fine, it really is.

For some reason Mingyu was interested in figure drawing modeling before. Maybe he just wanted to cross that off his bucket list, and had nothing to do with you.

The other T.A. comes back to stand beside you, “Is he comfortable?” You ask.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just seems a little inexperienced,” She responds, scratching her cheek. “He asked if he had to take all his clothes off, and I was like, huh? Yeah? But other that that—“

“Yeah, alright.” You interrupt dryly. “Thank you. I’ll just take over after this.” You say, as you grab the timer from the table.

You walk towards the center, clearing your throat as the art students look up. “Right, hi. Professor Kang isn’t here today, but don’t mind. Today will be quite an easy day.” You start, crossing your arms.

Your eyes immediately follow to the ruffle of the dressing curtain, as Mingyu walks out in a fluffy robe. Brown eyes meet yours, and for a second you think this will be fine. Until the corners of his lips turn up, into a toothy grin only you knew so well.

That motherfucker. Bucket list my ass, he said yes just to mess with you!

You turn away sharply, focusing back on the class. “The model today is Kim Mingyu.” You say shortly, before stepping off the small platform.

You gesture for Mingyu to walk to the center, your face stone cold as you watch him step onto the platform.

He clears his throat, “Do I take the robe off now?” He asks cluelessly.

Great, just show everyone you have no clue what you’re doing. If this was a few months ago, it’d be cute. But Mingyu standing hopelessly waiting for instructions was annoying you, to say the least.

You nod, and immediately, he undoes his robe and lets it fall to the floor.

You can’t help but stare. Your lips pressed into a thin line, your body tense. Stop stop stop! You couldn’t give him a reaction. As an artist, it was normal to see naked bodies. It wasn’t a sexual thing, especially in figure drawing. But Mingyu wasn’t just an old man or something. He was a conventionally attractive, tall, well built man. In more places than one.

“Oh shit, he’s hot.” The other T.A. whispers to you, covering her mouth. You bite back your embarrassment, as you just send her a glare for her unprofessional reaction.

It doesn’t help that other people around the room are pleasantly surprised by Mingyu, as I see pink dusting around people’s cheeks. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“Holy shit, a hot model. Is this real?”

“I thought we had a middle aged woman today. Bro… score!”

“I’ve never stared so closely.”

“Alright, warm ups. Ten one minute poses.” You say plainly, holding up the timer and pressing down on it. Immediately, Mingyu nods, springing into action.

His poses were something else. They were a bit awkward, as he stood there. First putting his hands on his hips, staring at the ground.

But he started getting more comfortable. After the ten one minute poses were up, the other T.A. Adds a stool to the platform for Mingyu to sit on.

“One pose, 15 minutes.” You say, setting the timer again.

This time instead of looking at the ground, wall, or ceiling, he stared straight at you. His eyes unwavering. The sight makes your mouth go dry, as the studio lights enhance Mingyu’s features perfectly.

His face framed by the little curl of his bang, light bouncing off his tanned skin as the definition of his muscles are on display. The way his large shoulders balance his proportions, and his skin smooth and tightly wrapped around his toned torso. He always was working out, and it seemed like he kept that up, as your eyes trail from his abs to his bottom half. Your cheeks flushing as he’s so unabashedly bare in front of the whole room.

But it only propelled your anger. How could he? Just step into your domain — the art school wing — and just come here? Posing like a gangly weirdo, riding on his looks so none of the students complained. Staring straight into your eyes as a confrontation. So much it felt like he was telepathically speaking to you.

Why aren’t you returning my calls? Or, how does this make you feel? It was infuriating.

And as if satisfied in your attention on him, he smirks, like he won some imaginary battle. This idiot.

The timer rings, making you flinch against the supply table. Your cheeks flush slightly, as you clear your throat. “Another 6 poses, each 2 minutes.” You manage to choke out, pressing the timer.

As the figure session goes on for the next hour, Mingyu’s confidence was starting to irritate you to no end. At first what was awkward, was now overtly dramatic. His poses of showing off his muscles, flexing his back, it was too much. People were here to draw, not ogle.

You decided to play, not wanting Mingyu to have the upper hand. As Mingyu goes to pick up the robe off the ground, you yell, “Stop right there!”

Mingyu freezes immediately, mainly out of confusion. His eyes drifting to you, a slight furrow of his brows.

“Now, the model will stay still. Do you see how the arm connects to the shoulder blades? Please turn to a new paper and start focusing on that area.” You say, stopping Mingyu in an uncomfortable position in the name of education.

You eye how his leg starts to shake from holding it, but it only fuels you. “Now focus on the thigh muscle, we’ll hold this pose for another 3 minutes.” You say, a little glee seeping into your voice.

Mingyu’s eyes shooting up to glare at you, as you cock your head and smile.

You push Mingyu to do crazy things, like pretending to do a lay up for 10 minutes to talk about line of action. Or when you asked the students to move in closer to draw his face, having twenty people at once hyper fixate on his expression. Now, the class was fun. You completely turned it around.

The timer rings. “Alright, lunch break.” You say, as it’s half way through the 6 hour class.

Theres a collective sigh of relief, as students massage their wrists, and Mingyu putting his robe back on, but loosely. Letting his chest peek out through the fabric, as he walks around the room.

You watch as he circles, smiling and complimenting others.

“Wow, thats really good.”

“Whoa, really love how you drew that one.”

“Is that how I look? I’m flattered! Thanks.”

You huff, looking away as you catch a glimpse of him leaning over a pretty girl’s shoulder as she shows her sketches. Purposefully letting the loose robe drape his exposed chest as he examines the drawings.

Students get up to stretch their bones outside, getting lunch during the break. The other T.A. goes to check on something, leaving only you and Mingyu in the figure drawing room.

You stand, ignoring him as you walk towards the platform, readjusting the power of the studio lights. “Next part of the class is long poses,” You say, twisting the knob. “So it’ll be harsh lights. you just have to sit there, it’ll easy.”

You turn back around, Mingyu looking at you with a small smile, barely a yard away. His hands on his hips, as he looks down at you. “You know,” He drawls, his voice low. “This was a lot more fun than I thought.”

“Is it?” You respond bitterly, “Well I’m glad. Because you’re not gonna be paid for this.” You inform him, as Mingyu isn’t a real model signed with the school.

“Thats okay, I’m getting what I wanted anyways.”

You sigh, as you cross your arms. Deciding not to beat around the bush.

“What are you doing here, Mingyu?” You ask tiredly, finally looking at him straight, your brows furrowed. You boldly looking into his playful eyes.

His smug expression softens, almost reminiscent to how he would look at you before everything. He takes his bottom lip under his teeth, chewing as he looks at you.

“You seriously need me to answer that? Like always?” He says quietly, but with only you two in the studio, he could whisper from across the room and you’d still catch it.

“What, like you actually answer me with anything that makes sense?” You respond back tightly. Sighing, you relax your shoulders, biting your cheek as you glance away from him. A student’s messy pencil case catching your attention, albeit forced.

A deafening silence falls. Mingyu never really liked to fight anyways.

“You’re, you’re difficult, you know that?” He starts, as he ruffles his hair with his hand, as if that would release his pent up frustration. “When I got the random phone call that you guys needed a last minute model, I thought for a second it was intentional.”

He takes a step closer, “But of course not. You looked like you saw a ghost when I walked in.”

You gulp, “Well, to be fair, thats what you are now.” You say quietly. Avoiding his eyes.

“Oh? So I’m just dead to you?”

“No, that would be easier.” You snap, finally looking back to face his eyes. Mingyu’s jaw clenched, his eyebrows knitted, trying to figure you out like an abstract art piece.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a disappointed huff. “y/n.” He starts firmly, in a tone he barely used.

But of course, directed to you, making your skin crawl in the overly air conditioned room.

Hands on his hips, as he takes a long breath, his head facing down as he hides his expression. “For an artist, you’re really shit at expressing your feelings.” He sighs, his bangs hiding whatever you could gather from him.

“Fine.” He concludes, looking up, his shoulders more relaxed. “I’ll stop bothering you about it, since you’re so sure.” He says throwing his arms out. “On one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, wary of whatever condition he was gonna propose. Mingyu could be unpredictable when you pushed him, making the hair at the back of your neck stand.

“Draw me.” He says finally. He glances at the clock on the wall, “They still have that lunch break. So just draw me at least once, before everyone comes back.” He proposes, turning around to walk casually to the platform, as if he’s assuming you would just do it.

Is he serious? You weren’t even together anymore, and yet he wants a free commission from you? Thats crazy, like you’d ever —

“Fine.” You say curtly, “Since you’re so desperate for my attention anyways.” You quip, walking over to the supply table, making sure your shoes stomp against the hard floor. You swipe some spare paper, clipboard, and some charcoal.

The second you were at an art horse in front of Mingyu though, your fire waned slightly. The dead silence of the room was deafening, as you adjust your clipboard. The sound of the metal clips thumping against the paper, the feet of the art horse squeaking as you adjust sitting on the worn wood.

When you gaze up at Mingyu, it was obvious. He really was getting what he wanted, and it was your undivided attention.

Once ready, the charcoal in your hand, Mingyu sits down on the stool, eyes steady on you as he grips the already loose tie around his robe with his large hand. Letting it fall, as he exposes himself once more in the bright lights you set up yourself. He kicks the robe away off the platform, set on you drawing him like this.

You blink back any feelings that threaten to show on your face, readjusting the charcoal in your hand as you avoid Mingyu’s eyes, pressing down to finally start a line.

Its been a while since you last drew figures, and it usually took an hour of continuous drawing before you really found your pace in figure drawing sessions. But it was different this time.

Your heart beats in your ears, a silence of the room highlighting the sound of your charcoal smearing against the newsprint — the sounds of your breathing and of Mingyu’s, as time passes. Agonizingly slowly, yet a focus every artist aches for.

Your hand moves accordingly. Outlining the contour of his silhouette, the way his neck slopes, the soft lines that shape his abs he always was working on. Pressing for pressure with your charcoal as you indicate the weight of him sitting on the stool, hands in his laps loose as you capture his likeness with ease.

But the focus doesn’t last for long, especially when you flicker your eyes back to his. Already flicking a stroke to mimic his right eyelid, before you still. Pressing the tip of your charcoal into the paper, crumbling against the grain as you stare into his large brown eyes.

Fuck. What are you even doing?

Why are you drawing him so intently, when you vowed just a while ago that you never wanted to see Mingyu again?

Your breath hitches, as you raise your arm, flickering back to your drawing. Charcoal in the air, swinging to run a huge line through your figure of him, to smear it, to destroy it, to —

Your wrist stops mid air, as you feel a warm grip tightening around you. Eyes wide, you unfocus on the paper, to look up. Somehow in your tiny melt down Mingyu got down from the platform.

He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. Jaw tense, “You were just gonna ruin it, weren’t you?” He asks you quietly.

You can’t help but knit your brows, a pained expression forming that matches the one in his eyes.

The charcoal clatters out of your hand, landing on the floor in broken pieces.

Tears start welling in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling. “You’re right,” You start shakily, “I don’t know… how to address anything unless I’m drawing.” You say weakly.

Mingyu’s eyes soften slightly, swallowing hard as the bright lights highlight the contour of throat bobbing. “Yeah, seems like it.” He replies carefully. You expected him to use this as a told you so, maybe give you a smug smile, like, I knew you weren’t over me.

But Mingyu was never like that anyways. No matter how much he craved your attention, he also wanted your peace of mind. A hard thing to ask from an artist like you.

His grip on your wrist softens, as he kneels down, getting eye level with you as you still sit on the art horse. Holding your hand in his, rubbing a thumb over the veins on the back of your hand gently.

“I miss you.” You finally muster, your eyes focused on his.

“I miss you too.” He responds back, before cracking a small smile.

You strain your brows into a furrow, blinking back the warm tears you naturally formed from the vulnerable moment. A shaky huff also coming out of you, as you decide to lean forward.

Inching your face closer, until the tip of your noses brush, Mingyu stiffening slightly as you shyly graze your lips against his lips. A small breath escaping his lips, fanning over yours before you finally part them.

Your lips against his — it was like home. Finding your way back after such a tumultuous and useless road. The warmth of his lips seeping into you, Mingyu as relieved as you are. His hands finding its way to the sides of your face, pulling you impossibly closer.

It only escalates, as you open your mouth wider to push your tongue against his, making Mingyu groan out as he meets you with similar enthusiasm.

He pulls you forward, off the art horse. Taking you down to the ground, maneuvering you until your back is against the hard floor. Covering you with his large frame, his weight pressing down on you in ways you were having such a hard time admitting you missed.

It was fast, and albeit messy and rushed. Like trying to make up for wasted time as you pull him close, hands wrapped around the back of his neck as your lips go numb, your teeth clashing.

You let out a whine, when Mingyu pulls away with a heavy breath, fighting against your attempts to pull him back for a kiss.

“Y/n — fuck, can we?” He asks hurriedly, his voice breathless. A look of want in his big eyes, but there was also a little responsibility.

First of all — anyone could walk into the studio any second. There was only a lunch break, sure, an hour. But at least half of it has passed.

As you take your bottom lip under your teeth, chewing at your swollen lip as you think. And Mingyu knows exactly what look you were giving him, and he wasn’t going to reject you. Not now.

He leans back in, crashing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss, breath hot against yours, before moving to your jaw. Leaving open mouthed rushed kisses down your neck, as you move your hands down his back. Feeling the muscles you were forcing yourself to look away from during the whole first half of class.

Touching Mingyu was way better than just drawing him from afar. You’re sure on that.

He moves his hand down, to push your midi skirt up, bunching the fabric to your hips. Your legs exposed to the cold air of the studio, as he wastes no time to slide your panties to the side. Already wet and damp from the heavy making out, and partially to the adrenaline of being in such a risky place.

“Damn, already?” He says, with a slight tease to his voice, making you pinch his arm. He lets out a pained chuckle, before placing his thick fingers against yours core, a gasp escaping your lips.

It helped that he knew you so well already, your legs squirming around the sides of him as he runs his fingers through yours wet folds, his thumb circling your clit as he inserts two fingers in, stretching you out as you gasp, Mingyu attacking your neck with messy kisses as he gets you ready for him.

“Fuck, Gyu,” You whine, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he curls his fingers, hitting the spongy flesh that makes you arch your back off of the floor.

You weren’t the only one worked up, Mingyu being bare this entire time. His dick pressing up against the inner of your thigh, hardening at the sounds of your pleasure.

Your hand shoots down to grab hold of him, helping him get hard as he lets out a moan, as you tighten your grip. Pumping him a few times, lining him up to you as he removes his hand from your entrance.

You both let out soft gasps as you hold his dick to swipe against you, coating him in your arousal, his tip leaking with precum.

He doesn’t even ask, he just knows, as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch. The friction from your pulled to the side panties, to the tight warm walls of your pussy, making him feel lightheaded with pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby,” He breathes, without even adjusting, he ruts into you roughly. Bottoming out as he knocks the wind out of you.

A whine escapes your throat, as you hold tightly around his shoulders, as Mingyu doesn’t slow his pace.

Its rough, its fast, and overall — desperate. The lewd sounds of flesh colliding echoing in the empty studio. Your mind going dumb at his fast pace, only focused on how he goes in, out. In, out.

The smell of his sweat, the way your hands run down his exposed body, all for you. He did this all for you. To get your attention, to get you back. God, does he even know how that makes you feel?

“Fuck, fuck,” He whines, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Already feeling a little fatigued from abusing your pussy so fast. But it was just too good, he missed it so much. So, so much. And he made it evident, as he pushes the back of your thighs higher to your chest, getting deep as he can. And fucking you like his life counted on it.

You feel the familiar build up of your orgasm, your walls tightening as you grip Mingyu’s shoulders. “Gyu, Gyu, I’m —“ You manage to choke out, as he moves his face from your neck to yours. Catching your cry with his mouth, drowning it as he kisses you messily.

You shudder, squirming under him as you feel the familiar high. Your body tingling with sensitivity and pleasure, as he overwhelms you with what can only be love.

He follows soon after, not being able to maintain his mouth to yours as he lets out a shaky grunt. Spilling inside you, his cum warm and filling, making your cheeks flush in contentment and relief.

He slows, stilling as you both catch your breaths. Pulling out of you with a reluctance. Pushing himself up, to lean back to sit. You follow as well, adjusting your skirt back as you push yourself up to your elbows.

Mingyu was a sight, as he always is. His tan skin glowing with a layer of sweat. The way his toned chest rises from catching his breath. The way his bangs are sticking to his forehead, his cheeks flushed with a rush of blood. A satisfied look on his face, as he sighs, licking his bottom lip as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile, a warm one. As you gather yourself.

“Lets get you cleaned up before the second half. Where did you throw your robe?”

“Oh fuck. I don’t know. You got any other ones?”

[pathologicalreid]

all the debts i owe | s.r.

in which Spencer takes your kids into account when deciding whether or not he should take a plea deal, and it doesn't go the way you expect

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: prison reid, takes place during 12x14 "collision course", i love my little reid family so much word count: 1.29k a/n: caamp song fic caamp song fic caamp song fic everyone cheered!!!!

Somehow, you felt like you were invading a conversation that you shouldn’t be a part of. Emily and Spencer knew this world much better than you did, and you were nothing more than a fly on the wall, grateful to be in close proximity to your husband after a few days of him being in jail.

You’d stopped by yesterday, dropping off a bag of his belongings and leaving them with Emily. You had wanted to see him then, if for nothing more than a confirmation that he was still breathing, but he was finally getting some sleep. The comfort of knowing that he had Emily watching over him had to be enough.

Spencer wasn’t allowed to keep his wedding band on. It was something that the jail was going to hold on to, but Emily had intervened and arranged for you to keep it.

The gold band weighed heavy against your chest, suspended by a chain around your neck for safe keeping, you kept it tucked into the collar of your sweater while you watched Spencer and Emily talk. “Please, just think about it,” Emily pleaded with him. “Think about the evidence.”

“I know,” Spencer assured her. “Scratch dots his Is and crosses his Ts. We know that,” he responded, brown eyes flickering over to yours for just a moment.

Leaning heavily against the wall for support, Emily shook her head, “But a jury won’t. A jury will only see what Scratch wants them to see.”

You shifted on your chair, resting your elbows on the table and propping your head in your hands. “You think they’ll convict me?” Spencer asked, a string of hurt threaded through his voice as if the thought of a jury of his peers thinking he was a killer caused him physical pain.

“I don’t know,” Emily answered, her voice barely above a whisper, “But if they do. Five years—that’s doable. You are young. You can have a life after that.” You were grateful for Emily; it seemed like she was doing the begging that you didn’t have the energy for.

“Not as an FBI agent,” Spencer rebutted, “I’d be a convicted felon.”

Her face softened as you watched, “Yes,” she acquiesced, “but you’d be free.”

At the first sign of tears in Spencer’s eyes, you felt water lining your own, “The FBI is my home. It’s where I belong.”

Emily looked at you for help, but you couldn’t get yourself to speak. You understood Spencer in a way few people ever could, the idea of him not being a part of the BAU made your chest ache as much as it did his. “You don’t belong in prison, and if you play Russian roulette with this… twenty-five years. That is a lifetime.”

Your husband lifts his chin in a display of false confidence, “If Scratch is framing me, you guys will get him. I know you will.”

“Yes, we will. I promise you we will never give up, and we will exonerate you.” Familiar silver started to line Emily’s eyes as well, “But what if we can’t do that this week? Or this year? Or this… decade? Because I know we can’t do it before your arraignment.”

Spencer turned to look at you, fully facing you for the first time since you arrived at the conference room this morning. “Thirty, twenty-seven, and twenty-five.”

Emily shook her head, confused. “What? What is that?” Her dark brows were knit together, looking between the two of you as she waited for an explanation.

You faced the two of them, wiping your sweaty palms across your jeans, “That’s how old our kids would be when he gets released.”

“They won’t even know who I am,” he said miserably, looking up at the ceiling to stop tears from gathering in his eyes.

Standing up from the chair, you stepped over to him, taking your rightful place at his side. “You could take the new deal, Spence,” you reminded him. “Five to ten—”

“I need to see them grow up,” he pleaded, brown eyes boring into you as he begged you to understand. Spencer always accounted for every possible outcome. Despite the haze of the past few days, you were sure that he knew what he was getting himself into.

You nodded up at him, taking one of his hands in yours before glancing over at Emily, “Can you give us a minute?”

Prentiss sighed and gave the both of you an understanding look before she slipped out of the room. “I need to see them grow up,” he repeated himself, dragging his free hand down his face while you squeezed his hand comfortingly.

“I know,” you whispered, “but with the deal… five years.”

“Or ten,” he countered. “Ten years… Nell would be in high school.”

Your stomach flipped at the idea, your oldest baby in high school, and just like that, you understood Spencer’s decision. You’d be there, outside in the world with your kids for those five to ten years; you’d see all of the in-between. Spencer would miss everything, learning about his own children through phone calls and letters, he’d play a passive role in their lives. If there was even the slightest chance that he would plead not guilty and win, then this whole nightmare would be over. “You have to fight,” you said, announcing the conclusion that he had already come to.

He nodded in confirmation, “Angel,” he whispered, “I don’t want you to come to the arraignment.”

Your breathing hitched, “What?”

“I want you to be with the kids. You’re the only parent they’ll have for who knows how long,” he explained himself.

You hadn’t worked out what you were going to tell the kids. They were too young to understand. Finn was barely out of the newborn phase, Livvy’s vocabulary was expanding every day, and Nell… Spencer was Nell’s best friend. Steeling your expression, you nodded once, “Okay, I won’t go.”

His lips parted and closed like he wanted to say something but stopped himself, you squeezed his hand in an attempt to be encouraging. “Just in case things don’t go the way we want… don’t wait for me.”

You dropped his hand, shaking your head in horror. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing from him, without a second thought, you reached into your shirt and pulled his wedding band out, leaving it on the chain, “For better or for worse, Spencer.”

“This is far worse than anything we could have ever thought of,” he continued, trying to give you an out. You could leave and he wouldn’t fault you, but you’d fault yourself.

Instead, you waved away his offer, “It would be an honor to wait for you. If that’s what it takes for me to see you again.”

He kissed you. Ducking his head until his lips met yours, there was nothing chaste about it. You both knew it was the last kiss, and it had to be good enough to last a lifetime. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, fueled purely by emotion; you kissed him like you’d never see him again. You gripped the collar of his sweater to discourage him from pulling away, and you tried to memorize the feeling of his hands on your waist.

A hollow feeling filled your chest when he pulled away, “I love you,” you breathed.

He nodded, resting his forehead against yours, “I love you too.” He pressed another small kiss to your lips, “I’ll make this up to you.”

You let yourself be pulled into his embrace, burying your face in his chest. You held onto him because this moment couldn’t last forever, but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to drag it out.

[plutoasteroids]

PAC - What are the basics of your soul contract

PILE 1 ^^ PILE 2 ^^ PILE 3 ^^

PILE 4 ^^ PILE 5 ^^ PILE 6 ^^

My readings are ALLEGEDLY for entertainment purposes only! Anything said in my readings do not replace professional advice from qualified and educated persons respectively!

Tarot readings are not a replacement for seeking professional guidance.

This reading MAY or MAY NOT contain triggering content - Proceed with caution

This is a general reading if you want a specific one for you and YOUR energy you can get a paid reading- PAID READINGS!

PILE 1

Your soul contract requires you to let your emotions out and embrace them for what they are because you are human and that is part and parcel of being human. You have been put into bad situations mainly from the people you loved and looked up to and that hurt caused you to in a way close your heart off Your soul contract needs you to look back at all of it learn from it and open up your feelings again instead of lying to yourself that you are this cold, unaffected person when in reality you are a sensitive soul and that is who you always will be. You need to learn to embrace that gentle nature of yours because it's not going anywhere, it's part of you in this life and the next.

PILE 2

Your soul contract is in relation to work and career. For you it is more so you are forced to conform to a certain societal standard in relation to career, basically picking more traditional careers like being a doctor, lawyer, engineer etc and deep down you know that's not what you want. You may come from a more conservative family. Your soul contract requires you to find a career that actually makes you happy, that doesn't really on other people's feelings and approval towards it. Once you let go of this you will open up a door that will flip your life upside down, making you happier and opening you up to greater more exciting opportunities that most people won't get.

PILE 3

You are the black sheep (most of you ended up becoming spiritual like tarot readers, astrologers, reiki healers in an attempt to heal and find your place) always have been always will be, you may have been bullied, treated badly by the people you care about or those closest to you (in proximity). You may have been left out in the cold which led to you developing a wall around you heart being this tough person when you really aren't deep down. Part of your soul contract is to make peace not with them but with yourself because once you do you are opening the door to building a happy, safe place for yourself. The basics of your soul contract is to heal family related wounds and build your own happy home, an environment that you never got to have or experience.

PILE 4

The basics of your soul contract start off with a tough childhood, you may have been shackled to the expectations of your family. Regardless, you have been put through situations that left you frustrated, upset, stressed and feeling like there is no way out or that there is nothing better out there for you. The basics of your soul contract need you to heal from all this hurt and trauma and once you do you will open yourself up to greater opportunities, you can't be in two places at once so your choices are live in the hurt and pain or heal and let the universe open the door to bigger financial, living and relationship opportunities.

PILE 5

For you there is a lot of karma in relation to relationships with other people in your life, you gave your all for and to other people just to be backstabbed and betrayed by the people closest to you to the point of maybe isolating yourself and believing that there is nothing good in terms of relationships for you. Your soul contract urges you to learn from those experiences. Not everyone is going to be your friend. You need to make peace with the fact that you are different and not everyone is going to appreciate it there is a negative and positive to everything you need to learn to sieve it out as well as the people in your life. Learn what you need and leave out what you don't especially in relationships. You are a people pleaser and that is not in your contract to be one.

PILE 6

The basics of your soul contract is to nurture both your emotions and your divine feminine. In the past you may have felt like you don't have control over yourself that other people are shackling you which has toughened you out and, in the process, you neglected your feminine and emotions. Now the basics of your soul contract urges you to be gentler, more fluid, to find peace in the toughest situations and be able to make choices without compromising your own emotions, values and beliefs. Your soul contract wants you to learn how to balance the masculine and the feminine know which to use in what situation instead of one over the other.

[stevishabitat]

👆👆👆

So real. My kiddo and I have been dealing with food insecurity for years and as much as I try to insulate kiddo from it, unfortunately there's only so much you can do when you're living in the poor part of town and everyone is on the edge of food and housing disaster.

That gut-level fear of will we have enough food, and trying to make preferred foods last until the next paycheck or grocery day, and having to prioritise cheap calories over enjoyable foods and relying on boring donated foods more often than we'd like.

I know it affects me a lot. I prioritise kiddo having preferred foods, easy-to-prepare foods, convenience foods, snacks to share with friends, etc. So a lot of the time when my executive function is bad, when my chronic pain is kicking my ass, when work has drained my energy, there's not much I want to eat or have energy to fix for myself. So some days it's easier for me to just not eat (which doesn't help with the brain fog, depression, or migraines either).

And I hope kiddo doesn't notice. And I hope my efforts since they were small to give them unrestricted access and several choices most of the time, and coaching them on interoception, intuitive eating, and listening to your body... I hope all of that is helping and that kiddo doesn't feel deprivation or anxiety about food.

But damn the guilt of raising a child in poverty is one of the worst parts of being poor. People are always going "kids don't need a lot of stuff to be happy" but they don't realise how much it wears on you to constantly go without.

And of course small joys are awesome! But when you're always on that knife's edge, the small joys sometimes come with the side effect of "enjoy it while you can because tomorrow might be really hard".

"Oh so we should just eat anything we want??"

Well actually YES but also:

Restricting food Does Stuff To Your Brain. "Restricting" doesn't mean stopping when you're full. I feel like this is what gets misunderstood a lot. It means placing rules and limits on food that supercede what your body is signalling that it wants. Let's use cookies as an example. Restricting would be:

- I can only have cookies when I deserve them.

- I can only have cookies when I'm alone.

- I can only have two cookies.

- I can only have low-calorie cookies.

- I can only have cookies on set days, or so-called cheat days.

- I can't have cookies.

- I can't have cookies in the house.

- I'm bad when I eat cookies.

- Cookies are a bad food and I must compensate for having eaten them.

Whether or not you stick to the restrictions you set, your brain is learning to be an anxious mess around cookies. It might want to avoid anywhere that has cookies. It might feel shame for wanting or eating cookies. It might get exhausted from suppressing the craving and decide to binge. It might go into binge mode every time you eat cookies because you've taught your body that This Will Not Be Available Whenever. It might feel ridiculously important to eat all the cookies while you can.

I know we're all so used to constantly talking about food, diets, weight and bodies, and it's completely normalised to look at absolutely everything you eat and assign it the level of guilt you're gonna feel for eating it, and to brag about not eating this and that, and to announce that you know it's a Naughty Indulgence when you eat anything sweet.

But oh my god, it's such a huge weight off your shoulders to just let yourself eat cookies because you wanted cookies and stop when you feel satiated and know that the cookies will be available next time you want cookies because you don't need to earn them in any way. Because a brain that knows it can have cookies whenever it wants cookies, doesn't crave cookies all the time. Nor does it feel any self-loathing when it does crave cookies.

And I just wish everyone a very chill brain and some cookies

[littlelamy]

thinking about rafe being more involved with sarahs life after the baby and spending time with them and taking the kid to school or maybe picking the kid up and seeing reader who is a teacher and they flirt or maybe it’s parent teacher conference and rafe tags along with john b bc Sarah can’t make it and him and reader are cute and flirting

the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, painting golden streaks across the desks and scattering soft shadows on the floor. it was quiet now, the hum of kids long gone except for a few stray drawings left forgotten on tables and the faint creak of your chair as you leaned back, scanning through a pile of spelling tests.

the knock on your classroom door startled you, pulling you out of the mundane rhythm of grading. when you looked up, you expected john b, who had mentioned he’d be dropping by for the parent-teacher conference. instead, you saw him. rafe cameron.

rafe leaned casually against the doorframe, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans, the other gripping the strap of a sleek leather backpack. his usual cocky smirk softened into something more polite, almost uncertain, as his eyes swept the room before landing on you.

“hey,” he said, his voice low and warm, like he wasn’t entirely sure he belonged here but was trying anyway.

“hi,” you managed, your surprise fading into curiosity. “can i help you?”

“i… uh, i’m here for the conference,” he explained, stepping further into the room. “sarah couldn’t make it, and john b roped me into tagging along.”

you blinked, trying to reconcile the guy who had a reputation for being a little too reckless, a little too intense, with the man standing in front of you. “oh. yeah, of course. take a seat. john b should be here any minute.”

rafe nodded, sliding into one of the kid-sized chairs with an amused grin. “man, these chairs are tiny. no wonder kids are always squirming.”

you laughed, the sound light and unexpected. “yeah, they’re not exactly built for comfort. you’ll survive, though.”

he raised an eyebrow, leaning his elbows on the desk as he looked at you. “is that a challenge?”

before you could respond, the door swung open, and john b burst in, his usual whirlwind energy filling the room. “hey, sorry i’m late,” he said, dropping into a chair beside rafe without missing a beat. “traffic was insane.”

“it’s fine,” you assured him, pulling out the folder with their child’s name neatly printed across the front. “shall we get started?”

the conference itself was straightforward, mostly you going over their daughter’s progress, showing off some of her artwork, and sharing notes about her strengths and areas for growth. but every now and then, you felt rafe’s gaze on you, steady and curious, like he was trying to figure you out.

when the meeting wrapped up, john b stood, stretching. “thanks for taking the time. sarah’ll be thrilled to hear everything’s going so well.”

“of course,” you said, offering him a warm smile. “she’s a great kid. makes my job easy.”

john b nodded, then glanced at rafe. “you coming?”

rafe hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. “uh, i’ll catch up. i just have a quick question.”

john b smirked, like he knew exactly what was going on, but didn’t say anything as he left, leaving you and rafe alone.

“so, a quick question?” you prompted, arching an eyebrow.

he grinned, leaning back in his tiny chair. “yeah, just wanted to ask if you’ve always been this good with kids, or if it’s something you picked up over time.”

you tilted your head, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “a little of both, i guess. i’ve always liked working with them. they’re honest, you know? no filter. keeps things interesting.”

he nodded, his expression thoughtful. “yeah, i can see that. you’re… you’re really good at it. i mean, i could barely survive babysitting her for an afternoon, and you do this every day.”

you laughed, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks. “it’s definitely not easy, but it’s worth it.”

there was a pause, the kind that felt like it held something unsaid, and then rafe stood, towering over the kid-sized desk. “anyway, i should let you go. but… maybe i’ll see you around?”

“maybe,” you said, your smile lingering as he made his way to the door.

but before he left, he glanced back, his smirk returning. “or, you know, if you ever need a break from grading papers, i’d be happy to grab a coffee or something. on me.”

you raised an eyebrow, fighting the grin tugging at your lips. “i’ll think about it, cameron.”

he chuckled, giving you a small salute before disappearing into the hallway, leaving you alone in the golden light of the classroom, your heart fluttering in a way you hadn’t expected.

lamy's notes: i wouldn't mind doing more fics about rafe x teacher!reader! i hope you liked it!!

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesbabygirlx

[gallusrostromegalus]

Question for #AEIWAM, about the Hogyoku: In Canon, Aizen is using one Hogyoku to figure out how to make Shinigami into Hollow, and Urahara is discovered to have a second Hogyoku when he tries to undo the Hollowfication on the group that would become the Visored. But it's never adequately explained where either of them came from, other than "they were invented by [Aizen & Urahara". In #AEIWAM, if the Hogyoku was used to make the first Kami, but using it for what Urahara & Aizen were doing, it seems so... low-powered. What if it's not two separate Hogyoku, but rather one Hogyoku split into two parts? Man, I bet Kaname was waiting for the best moment to tell Aizen that Urahara had one

Oh no.

It's MUCH stupider than that.

The *exact* nature and purpose of the hogyoku (and why the instructions for how to make one were just out there for Gin to find on the Soul King's worktable) are MAJOR SPOILERS for the TYBW arc of AEIWAM, but as far as functions go: A Hogyoku is a device used to accumulate massive amounts of Reiryoku (Soul Energy), compress and purify it, and then squeeze it out into an organism later to make it extremely powerful.

If you can guess the spoilers from those two sentences, you get a gold star and drafted into helping me write this damn fic.

I'm not sure where you got the bit about them being used to make the first Kami, but that is (at least now) not the case- Kami form from a similar function, but were not intentionally *made*, and not with a Hogyoku.

ANYWAY,

You are right, the two hogyoku in AEIWAM are under-powered compared to the original plan, but that's mostly because neither Aizen or Urahara could comprehend the sheer scale of Nobody's design, so what they actually made were, essentially Micro-hogyokus.

The Approximate Order of Events:

A fuckass long time ago:

Nobody, Ichibei and Shinso all get the shit stabbed out of them during the Godslaying Event.

Gin is formed from the physical and metaphysical viscera of all three.

As a result, Nobody dies, Ichibei is left a shell of his former self and Shinso loses his body.

Gin realizes that, with Nobody dead and Their various body parts jamming up the wheel of Samsara, there is a very real possibility the Current Life Machine will starve and die before it can give birth to the next one, and the universe they're in will retroactively cease to exist.

Gin decides the best course of action is to put the current Life Machine on life support so it doesn't starve or miscarry while he figures out how to unjam the wheel.

While Gin is figuring this shit out, Ichibei shoves Nobody's corpse in amber and locks the palace to prevent anyone from finding out the "Soul King" is dead, and traps Shinso inside.

Gin finds the plans for The Hogyoku (note the capitalization) on Nobody's worktable, and realizes a smaller version could be used to fill a single soul with an absolute shitwack of energy and that soul could then become an energy capri-sun for the Life Machine.

Gin, however, lacks the engineering knowledge or skill to actually MAKE a micro-hogyoku, let alone convince a soul to submit themselves to the torture of becoming a Divine Juice Box.

...Unless they think it was their idea in the first place.

Gin redacts a few key points about The Hogyoku, including it's scale and intended purpose, and then takes the redacted plans- which are not paper but Concepts- and travels to Spirit World, where most of the Reiriyoku is to dangle the plans in the dreams of various likely-looking maniacs that are slightly too smart for their own good.

late 1700's to early 1800's

After several false starts, Gin finally hits his mark in the disillusioned and bitter Sosuke Aizen, who lost his entire family in a series of catastrophes and is realizing just how cruel and incompetent the afterlife really is.

Aizen changes careers from "Assistant to the central 46" to "Shinigami" and starts his research into the nature of Reiryoku to build "his" vision to make himself God and Fix Everything Forever.

Gin continues jiggling the bait while he waits for Aizen to get some results, and finds a second mark in a bright-eyed and naieve Kisuke Urahara, who thinks he can use it to infuse hollows with whatever it is they're missing and Fix That Forever.

Satisfied that he now has a Juice Box and a Backup Juice box, Gin transforms into a human-shaped soul and appears as a child in the Rukongai as part of his long con to get close to Aizen and Urahara and keep them on track.

late 1800's ish:

Progress is SLOW with both men and Gin is getting frustrated.

Aizen is slighty further along, having learned about Arrancar and the growth instars of hollows while Kisuke was learning how to become a cop, so Gin enters the academy, speedruns it, and attatches himself to Aizen to herd him in the right direction faster.

Aizen is also fucking terrible at Opsec and is discovered by Kaname Tousen, who is immune to Aizen's Illusion Bullshit, but mistakenly thinks that Aizen's lackey, Kiganjo, is the mastermind, and confides in Aizen.

Aizen is about to straight-up murder Kaname to keep him from blowing it when Gin remembers Kaname from the academy and realizes that where Aizen has ambition instead of brains, Kaname is the real genius here, and will definitely speed things up.

Whether he wants to or not.

Shortly after Kaname is cursed into compliance, Kirio Hikifune is recruited into the Royal Guard and Urahara becomes captain of the 12th, where he devotes himself to figuring out how to make his hogyoku.

Everything is coming up Gin!

1900:

Despite being cursed all to hell, Tousen VERY NEARLY blows the whole operation by alerting the rest of the court guard to the location of Aizen's lab, but Gin is able to step in at the last second and stop him.

...By turning 14 of the Ninth's seated officers into hollows that were absorbed by the hogyoku, and the subsequent rescue party into hollows that Urahara spirits away.

Instead of absorbing the rescue party into his own hogyoku, urahara turns them into Visored and they all abscond to the living world/vanish as far as Gin can tell.

Fuck.

Gin redoubles his efforts to keep Aizen on track now that he only has one Juice Box, which means things get a whole lot worse for Tousen but hey, gotta save the universe and that means Aizen Absolutely Cannot Fuck This Up.

1980:

Aizen Fucks it All Up.

Gin has to sprint back to Soul King Palace to molt real fast, and in the fucking three days he's gone, Aizen:

figures out how to use the "export energy" feature on his hogyoku and

instead of exporting the energy into HIMSELF, Aisen makes a sort of super-hollow he calls "White" because that's his favorite color, and dumps all 10,000 souls worth of energy into it.

Aizen then orders Kaname to take White to the Living World to go fuck shit up, just to see what it can do.

Kaname, in the midst of an extreme nervous breakdown, abandons White in downtown Karakura because Aizen forgot to give him end commands, and goes to ground in hopes that Aizen gets his dumb ass killed doing this, or Kaname dies quietly before he can be forced to mutilate or kill anyone else.

Kaname's Obvious Nervous Breakdown is witnessed by Captain Isshin Shiba, who follows Kaname to his meeting with... someone, he looks like a human-shaped mirage? and some creepy-ass hollow, which Kaname takes to the living world and then just... leaves?

White starts to Fuck Shit Up, mostly by wandering around while being a dangerously radioactive to souls, and Isshin decides he needs to kill this thing before it destroys the whole city.

Quincy Prodigy and current host to the ghost of Quincy Freishutz sees White and has the same idea.

Looney-tunes ass battle between White, Isshin, and Masaki breaks out.

Meanwhile, Kaname's continuing nervous breakdown is witnessed by Yoruichi, who stalks him in cat form for a while before she senses the fight break out, and calls Urahara on the way to tell him Shit's Afoot.

Meanwhile, Isshin and Masaki are falling in love. Or at least, Isshin is falling in love with the most insane woman he's ever met. Masaki thinks he's a very cute tactical advantage.

White, all of two hours old, has no fucking clue what the fuck is happening, just that these asshole are trying to kill him.

Isshin and Masaki do a coordinated double attack that backfires and effectively tears everyone's souls in half- Isshin and Masaki are seperated from their Yume-kon: Engetsu and Quincy Freishutz.

Yoruichi gets to the fight and kicks White into two pieces that had not yet quite figured out who is king and who is horse, and then Yoruichi is KO'd by the resulting recoil.

Urahara arrives just in time to see his former coworker and some woman(???) with their souls falling apart, and two large glops of energy. Isshin demands urahara save this woman. Urahara, attempting to figure out how to do that: I can. uh. frankenstein your souls together? Masaki, seeing her way out of Yhwach's grasp: DO THAT.

Urahara uses his hogyoku to stuff the glops of energy into the holes where thier Yume-kon should be, then stitches Isshin and Masaki's souls together to contain the glops within both of them.

Inside Masaki and Isshin, Quincy Freischutz and Engetsu both fuse with/are absorbed by the glops formerly known as white.

This causes Isshin to develop severe amnesia and Masaki to lose her the use of quincy abilities/breaks her connection to Ywach.

Aizen realizes that his hogyoku is now Empty (and useless), but witnesses Urahara use his before absconding with Isshin and whoever that woman was.

Kaname wakes up in bed in the ninth with exactly zero memory of how the fuck he got back from his saw-trap-like bolt hole in the living world, and a really weird headache.

1983:

Isshin and Masaki get HAMMERED at a Halloween party and make Ichigo.

Both halves of the being formerly known as White jump from parent to child, taking whats left of Engetsu and Quincy Freischutz with them, and inside the fetal ichigo, the entities re-fuse into a chimera that decides its name is Zangetsu.

Zangetsu then promptly goes dormant because yume-kon are not supposed to be body hopping and reverse-parthenogenesising like this no matter how much energy they have to burn and he's TIRED.

Orihime's parents get drunk and have nasty hate sex in a closet during an office christmas party and make Orihime, setting Shinso's much better secret "Fix The Life Machine" plan in motion.

Urahara finally gets the idea "Hey maybe this hogyoku thing isn't a great idea"

He thinks that he can destroy his hogyoku by sealing it, then sealing it inside a sturdy mortal soul, and letting that mortal die.

Unfortunately, no souls in the living world can handle the radiation of the sealed hogyoku, so he's got to stuff it into a shinigami and then make that shinigami mortal.

2000:

Instead of doing the sane thing and stuffing it into the most immediately available shinigami (himself), Urahara fucks around for 20 years until Rukia comes around, and he stuffs it into her soul instead.

In a weird coincidence that ABSOLUTELY NOBODY COULD HAVE SEEN COMING, Rukia, who is patrolling the area Ichigo lives in, comes into contact with Ichigo, the kid whose parents Urahara stuffed full of hogyoku glop.

This contact makes the dormant Zangetsu WAKE THE FUCK UP, and reflexively slorp the soul energy out of Rukia. Instead of the full powers of Urahara's hogyoku, Zangetsu only gets Rukia's personal reserves, but its enough for him to be concious and see that OH FUCK THAT'S A BIGASS HOLLOW, ICHIGO'S GONNA DIE FUCK, FUCK WE NEED A WEAPON- BOW? NO, TOO CLOSE. SWORD? YEAH! WE REMEMBER HOW TO BE A SWORD!!

Thus: Shinigami!Ichigo.

This event trips Aizen's radar, and he starts his plan to get his hands on Urahara's still-active hogyoku/fuck over soul society/destroy karakura/make himself the new soul king

the first and second parts of that plan (mostly) work, and Aizen yoinks urahara's hogyoku from rukia and absconds with it, Gin and Kaname, who has been working on his own plan to break the curse, but is exhausted.

Aizen, just to be a dick to ichigo, kidnaps Orihime.

Kaname explains that the hogyokus are tools that consume souls and convert them into energy, and that Aizen is planning to use the one he stole from urahara to devour karakura and make himself into the new god. "What do you mean 'new' god?" "I'm like 99% sure the soul king is dead. there's God-sized body parts all over the spirit world." "Ah. Bad."

Aizen shows Orihime his own, empty hogyoku and monolouges about how only an incompetent and cruel god would make the living and spirit worlds like this. While he's distracted, Orihime grabs the hogyoku and eats it, bringing the next part of Shinso's plan to fruition.

Orihime starts being able to see connections other people don't but she's had AuDHD her whole life so that's nothing new. Her Shun Shun Rikka suddenly gets a whole lot stronger though, and she helps kaname start to break his curse by pulling the nails out of his spine with it.

At the battle of Fake Karakura, Kaname finally breaks his curse and beats the SHIT out of Aizen until he cracks Urahara's hogyoku that aizen loged in his chest, preventing it from absorbing any more power, so Aizen can't absorb real karakura and become a god.

In retaliation, Aizen decides that if he can't be god, then he will at least kill the gotei-13, and fuses with urahara's hogyoku to become stupid powerful

Zangetsu has been trying to speed-train ichigo but the kid is only 16 and this is the apocalypse unless they do something UHHHHH HERE KID, HAVE SOME OF OUR HOGYOKU POWERS YEAH THEY'RE HOLLOW FLAVORED DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT-

Hollow!Ichigo finishes kicking Aizen's ass until he's unable to fight back and surrenders, losing control of, but unable to let of his immense power.

Gin pops up from where he'd been pretending to be a corpse, paralyzes Aizen by stabbing him in the back of the neck, says "thanks kid!" and absconds with his Juice box back to Soul King Palace, and then to the workings of the Life machine beyond.

Gin puts Aizen into something that greatly resembles a horrible combination of The Machine from princess bride, a mouth, and a taffy puller, which operates in much the same fashion as all three to extract all that delicious soul energy from him.

2001:

Kaname wakes up from the coma Unohana had to put him in to let him recover on Valentines day, finally a free man for the first time in over a century.

It's not the first thing he does with his freedom, but kicking urahara's ass for making a hogyoku at all is up there.

Orihime continues to get... weirder.

...and that's as far as I've gotten with much specificity in drafts.

[nakylvr]

MISSED YOU (FINAL)

daniela avanzini x fem!reader

summary: dealing with the repercussions of your actions, you try your absolute best to fix everything.

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort(?), happy ending (yay!), dealer!dani au, language

wc: 3,5 k

part 1 | part 2

you woke up to knocking on the door. lifting your head from the bed, you immediately felt your head pounding with a headache, making you groan quietly as you got up and left the bedroom. walking to the front door, you peer through the peephole and let out a sigh of relief to see manon.

you unlock and open the door, being met with the taller woman who was holding a convenience store bag in her hand. 

“did you sleep?” manon questions, taking notice of the dark bags under your eyes mixed with the tear stain marks on your cheeks.

“a little.” you shrug, opening the door wider and walking further inside. 

“better than nothing,” manon replies, walking in and shutting the door behind her. she follows you to the living room, setting the bag down on the coffee table as you sit on the couch and curl up into a ball in the corner. “here,” she rummages through the bag before pulling out two cans. “i didn't know if you'd want the redbull or the coffee, so.” she holds both of them in front of you. 

“thanks,” you mumble, taking the energy drink from her hand and opening it. 

a silence fills the apartment again, one that lasts a while before you finally manage to speak up. 

“i don't know how to fix this,” you say quietly, making manon look over at you. “i doubt she wants to see me right now, or ever again.” you look down at the drink in your hand, finger spinning around the rim of the can. “i should’ve listened to her, then none of this would've happened.” 

“it's okay,” manon says. “i mean, it's not, obviously, but it’ll be fine. you can't say that she probably doesn't want to see you, because we both know that she always wants to see you. whenever you're not around you are literally the only thing she talks about, and with what you told me about your last conversation, she probably thinks sophia forced you to do it – which she did, so i don't think she's mad at you exactly. if she is, i’d be surprised.” she pauses for a moment. “you have to just do it. get her out, and then you can talk it out. you can figure the rest out as you go.” 

“yeah,” you murmur, still looking at the can in your hands. 

“yn,” manon grabs one of your hands making you finally look at her. “i’ve known dani for years, she isn't going to be mad at you. when i say you are the only person she talks about, i mean literally you are the only person she cares about. i’ve seen her go through girls so fast that when she started talking about you i felt bad. i thought ‘well, there's another poor girl to add to her list’. but she said you were different. so i tried to believe her. now, i’m going to be honest with you here, okay? because i love and care about both of you very much, and i want you two to fix this, okay?” she stops, waiting for you to nod before continuing. “dani has said multiple times to multiple girls that they're different. so when she said it about you my first reaction was how you were going to get hurt. but things started changing, dani started changing. and that has never happened. you know dani is a pretty independent person, and what she does has her that way because of shit that's happened in the past, but to see her changing – changing for the better? i knew she was right about you.”

“not one other girl has even been able to remotely change one thing about dani,” manon continues. “she always kept them at a distance, she never let them get too close. and the day she told me she took you with her to one of the deals? something that she never let anyone do? i knew she seriously loved you. when she said that you insisted on going with her, she told me that she hesitated. but not for the same reason it usually was. she wanted to protect you. she always wants to protect you, yn. but she lets you come with. she trusts you with the money. she trusts you with certain clients. she trusts you. she loves you. no one else. i don't know why she did what she did, but i know she regrets it. you are the best thing that's ever happened to her, and i don't want this to fuck it up for you two. i can't tell you what to do, but i will support whatever decision you make, okay?” 

listening to everything manon said, you slowly nod your head while taking in all of it. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you could feel them threatening to spill, with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth to keep it from trembling. “i ju-st want to fix this,” your voice cracks as you speak. “i love her so much.”

“i know you do,” manon is quick to reply, scooting closer to you and wrapping her arms around your shaking frame. “and i know she loves you just as much. you just have to tell her. you have to talk this out, and you have to tell her about what happened last night.” 

you physically tense up at her last words, the memories of the night before flooding your mind as you put your hands into fists to keep them from shaking so much. “i can't– she’ll really hate me then,” you reply, shaking your head. 

“you have to, yn,” manon tells you. “i know you don't want to, but you have to.” 

a few tears fall from your eyes, but you slowly nod your head, knowing it was the truth. it could make matters worse or it could improve them, but you had no idea how to even go about it. “can you– can you come with me to the sheriff's station? i already have the bail money in a bag, i-i just don't want to go alone right now,” you speak quietly, more tears trailing down your cheeks. 

“of course,” manon replies with a nod. “has sophia tried reaching you?” 

“there was texts and calls for the first couple of hours, but i think she gave up,” you answer with a shrug. “i read a few of them…” your voice goes quiet again.

“bad?” manon questions, judging by the tone in your voice when you said it.

“yeah.” you nod. 

“ignore them,” manon tells you sternly. “you don't need to be seeing her lash out on you because of something terrible she did. you didn't do anything wrong, okay? you don't deserve any of what's happened to you in these months, and it's not your fault for going to the person you thought would keep you safe. but this means you have to fix things with dani. if all else fails, then you can stay with me for some time, okay? you’ll always have a place to stay with me.” she rubs your back reassuringly.

“okay,” you mumble, nodding again. “thank you again, i owe you for this.”

“no you don't.” manon shakes her head. “you're one of my best friends, i’d do anything to make sure you're okay.” she then pulls away from you, grabbing the can from you and setting it on the coffee table. “when does the sheriff's station open?”

“nine, i think,” you answer. 

“we’ll go right when it opens, then,” she says. “get it done as fast as possible so that she doesn't have to stay in there too long. then you can talk things out. i’m sure you'll already be on her good side just by bailing her out after what you said when she was arrested, so you have a good starting point. get her something to eat, get some drinks, and talk it out here in the home you two have made. it’ll all be okay. i promise.” 

“okay.” 

…

one week later you were standing outside the jail, biting your nails with your foot tapping on the ground anxiously. thankfully, you had enough to cover the bail and have a little leftover, which was a relief knowing it didn’t take everything in the safe. you had yet to even speak to daniela, despite manon telling you to at least try and see if she would talk to you. you didn’t want to hear yelling over the phone, you’d rather hear it in person where you could explain everything easier than if you were arguing over the phone line that would cut after five minutes. manon told you over and over again that she wouldn’t be mad at you, but the nervous feeling was still rooted deep inside you as you heard the loud buzzing and the gate slowly opening. 

looking up from the ground, you spot daniela walking with her bag of things. her eyes subtly widen a bit from what you can see, since they didn’t exactly tell her who bailed her out, just that she was able to leave. 

she slowly steps over to you, stopping in front of you and looking at you without saying anything. 

“hey,” you say quietly. “i’m really sor–”

you’re cut off from your apology by daniela kissing you. your eyes go wide for a second, but when her arms wrap around your waist you find yourself melting into the kiss, practically feeling all the emotions she was pouring out into it. 

when she pulls away, you’re both a little breathless, quiet panting coming from you two. 

“do you wanna get something to eat and head home?” you ask softly. “i’d rather talk at home.” 

“yeah, we’ll talk at home,” daniela responds in the same voice.

“okay.” you nod. 

…

by the time you two arrived at the apartment, it was already leading into the evening, the sunset coming down just as you opened the door and walked inside with bags of food and drinks in your hands. 

walking behind you into the apartment, the first thing dani notices is how clean it is. she figured it’d be destroyed when they came to get her, only feeling worse when she realized it had to have been you that cleaned up the place. she follows you silently, setting the food down on the dining room table and going to sit on the couch next to you. 

there’s a silence that fills the room. one that was far from comfortable. both of you sitting there not knowing what to say first, or to say anything at all. until you speak. 

“i’m really sorry,” your voice is barely able to be heard as you fiddle with your hands. “i-i didn’t think– i didn’t mean for it to go down that way, i-”

“don’t apologize,” daniela cuts you off, shaking her head. “there’s no reason for you to be apologizing. i deserved it.” she goes quiet for a moment before continuing. “i’m really, really sorry. i shouldn’t have done what i did, and i know i fucked up. i’m not sure why i did it, but i regret it so much. i don’t know why you bailed me out, i thought the last time was really going to be the last time. but…i’m glad you did. i just want to talk it out.” 

“i know, and that’s why i bailed you out,” you start. “listen, dani. i went to sophia to figure out what to do, and…it wasn’t a smart idea. i know you two already don’t like each other, but this could really make things worse for everyone. i– she convinced me to call the police even though i didn’t want to. i felt so bad once i saw how upset you were. i knew you knew you fucked up and was trying to do anything to make me stay a-and i ignored it. i-i thought it would make things easier but it made everything so m-much worse. everything just t-turned into a shit show a-and i didn’t know what to d-do.” you began stuttering over your words as a few tears fell from your eyes. 

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” daniela is quick to wrap her arms around you and pull your head against her chest. “it’s okay, okay? i’m not mad at you for what you did. i deserved it. so please don’t beat yourself up over what you did, baby. i’m not upset at you.” she presses a gentle kiss on your head. 

“there-there’s something else i h-have to tell you,” you manage to get out, your anxiety growing and your breathing getting heavier. “please don’t get mad when i tell you th-this.” 

“nothing will make me mad, i promise,” dani responds. “what happened?”

clutching onto her shirt, your face is still pressing against her chest as you try to find the words to explain it. “i-i went to sophia’s after. y-you know she’s always had feelings f-for me, so i-i…i fucked up, dani.” you start fully sobbing into her chest at this point, which has her arms tightening around you both from you crying and what she was thinking you were going to say next. “i-i let her have her w-way with m-me b-b-but i hated it. it was t-terrible. sh-she didn’t care that i w-was uncomfortable, she di-didn’t stop even when i w-was crying. all i c-could think about was how y-you would never do that. i-it didn’t feel the same. sh-she didn’t care, she continued a-and i felt so bad after th-that i left immediately. i’m so sorry.” 

once you finished your words through sobs, daniela pulled you closer to her onto her lap, her arms tight around you as you cried. there were hundreds of thoughts running through her head, but they were far from being mad at you. she wasn’t mad at you. she was livid at sophia. “it’s okay,” she tells you over and over. “i’m not mad at you, i swear. i’m not mad.” hearing your cries continue made daniela wonder just how much sophia put you through when she wasn’t around, and thinking it made her jaw clench, anger bubbling inside of her. “baby, look at me,” she says softly. 

you slowly lift your head to look down at her, your eyes red and puffy with a few sniffles coming from you now and then. 

“i’m not upset, okay?” she says, running her hand through your hair. “i understand, i do. which is why i’m not angry at you. i’m angry at sophia, okay? she should’ve known better than to try and do that, let alone continue when you were crying. you haven’t seen her since, have you?”

you immediately shake your head quickly. “no, no, i haven’t. she tried texting and calling but i just ignored them.” 

“good.” daniela nods. “that means it’ll be a fun surprise for her when i show up at her front door.” 

the way she says that has your eyebrows furrowed together. “what do you mean?”

“don’t worry about it, mi amor,” she says, pecking your lips. “let’s just say she won’t be a problem anymore.” 

“as long as you don’t get arrested again, you can do what you want,” you tell her, hooking your arms around her neck. 

“i won’t, i promise.” she smiles at you. “are we okay?” she asks after a moment. 

it takes a minute for you to respond, but you nod your head in the end. “yeah, we’re okay.” 

“i love you,” daniela says, looking you in the eye. 

“i love you too,” you reply, leaning in and kissing her. 

…

it was late into the night when daniela got up. but not for the same reason it had been the past few months. was she going to see someone? technically. was it sophia? yes. was she going to beat the living shit out of her? probably. 

the latina carefully got out of the bed, unwrapping your arms around her and looking at the time on the digital clock. late enough. you shift around feeling her presence leave the bed, and you open your eyes to see her putting on a hoodie and her shoes. 

“where are you going?” you mumble tiredly. 

dani turns when she hears your voice, leaning down and pushing some of your hair out of your face. “i’m heading to sophia’s with manon and minji. don’t worry, i’ll text you once i’m there and when i’m on my way back.” she presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “i’ll bring you back something to eat if you’re awake when i’m leaving.” 

you nod your head, murmuring out a quiet “okay”. this is what you missed. if you were too tired to go out to deals with her, she would always say this. that she’d text you when she was there, and that she would text you when she was leaving that everything was okay, even then she would send more messages than necessary. but, you didn’t mind it. she knew you often got worried when it came to certain clients, and she always reassured you when she would go alone. it hadn’t been like this in months. for the past few months you’ve woken up to her already gone, not bothering to tell you where she was going. for the first time through this hell that’s been these last few months, it was starting to feel normal again. 

“be safe, please,” you say quietly. 

“always,” she replies, kissing your head again. 

walking out of the apartment, manon and minji were already waiting outside in front of minji’s car. the two turn when they hear footsteps coming towards them to see daniela walking towards them. 

“is it bad to say i’m surprised you showed?” daniela says, stopping in front of the car. 

“not really,” manon shakes her head. 

“thanks, anyways then,” daniela looks between the two. “are you both sure you want to do this?” 

“obviously,” manon says. 

“i’ve never liked her anyways,�� minji adds, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“alright,” daniela nods. “let’s go then.” 

…

it was three in the morning when you heard the front door open. you were partially awake after daniela told you where she was going, glancing at your phone occasionally when it would light up. it had been thirty minutes since dani told you she was on her way back. just when you were getting worried you heard the creaking of the front door opening, and the jingling of keys. you sit up on the bed a little bit when daniela walks into the bedroom with a bag of food and drinks in her hands. 

“hey.” she smiles at you. “i got you some food and a milkshake from sonic. i’m sure you’re tired of it by now but it’s like, the only place open at this hour.”

“i don’t mind.” you shake your head. “thank you.” 

“it’s no problem,” she says, sitting down next to you on the bed. “here.” she hands you one of the drinks and takes the food out. 

sitting in silence while eating, you had a warm feeling radiating through your body. the type you hadn’t felt in months while everything was going on. the silence wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t tense. it was comfortable. it was normal, like it used to be. 

“i really missed this,” you say randomly in a quiet voice. “i missed you.” 

daniela looks over at you when you speak, seeing the small smile on your face that subconsciously makes a smile grow on her own face. “i missed this– i missed you, too,” she replies in the same voice. 

when you look over at her, you can barely make out her face with the lamp on your nightstand, but staring into her eyes, you know she’s genuine about it. “promise me we won’t do this again,” you tell her. 

“i promise,” she replies in a heartbeat. “you know why?” 

“why?” you encourage her, curious as to what she’ll say. 

“because i’m gonna marry you one day.” 

your breath hitches in your throat at her words. in the two years you’ve been together, she’s never mentioned anything of the sorts revolving marriage or that kind of commitment. and after what manon told you, you weren’t sure she would ever even consider the thought. to say you were surprised would be an understatement. 

“really?” your voice comes out in a whisper, as if you were doubting her words. 

“really.” daniela nods. “i don’t want to be with anyone except you. i don’t want you to be with anyone except me. i know i fucked up right now, but i swear in the future i’ll give you the newlywed life you want. i swear.” 

tears build in your eyes without your knowledge, so focused on her words that you didn’t even notice a few falling until dani’s hand reaches towards you and wipes them away with her thumb, her hand cupping your face. “you can’t go back on me now, y’know,” you say in a hushed voice. “you better stay.” 

“i will,” she responds. “i will, i promise. i don’t want anyone else. i just want you.” 

“then you’ll show me?” you say, your voice changing into a tone daniela was far too familiar with.

“oh, i’ll show you.” she leans in and kisses you. 

[siveambrai]

I followed this with just baskets for things that go in an area. Fun fact, it works with human psychology to make it look more put together even if all the stuff is still visible (gestalt principles). Ton of care items on the bathroom counter? Nope, that is one basket of organized things instead.

Baskets/piles of clean laundry that never get put away because it's too many steps?! Put that shit in some big baskets! I have one each for pants, casual shirts, pjs, socks, and underwear. They look nice in my closet and if I don't even have the energy to fold them all I need to do is chuck them in the right basket. No more clean clothes piles. I have one for infrequent items that's right above my dirty laundry basket that becomes the holder for items I've worn but can wear again. Those just get folded over the edge so they're still visible when I go to get changed.

cleaning along desire paths

[ruewritesoccasionally]

hii my love, do u think u could do an Aaron pierre x reader in a couple's interview plss 🥺

pairings: aaron pierre x black reader

summary: Aaron and Y/N sit down for a couple’s interview, answering 30 questions that test their wit, patience, and love for each other. Playful banter, inside jokes, and stolen glances—this is them, unfiltered.

warnings: fluff, playful teasing, suggestive banter, excessive sweetness, and Aaron being absolutely smitten.

word count: 744

a/n: hi anon 🥰🥰 when i saw the ask, my initial thought was teyana and iman's gq interview so that was my inspo and i hope this was the kinda thing you were looking for and you like it !

Aaron Pierre & Y/N – 30 Questions with GQ

The video opens with Aaron and Y/N already settled on a plush couch, hands intertwined. A warm studio light casts a golden hue over them, and the energy between them is undeniable—easy, familiar, magnetic.

Aaron leans toward the camera with a lopsided grin. “So… we’re here to answer thirty questions about each other.”

Y/N chuckles, squeezing his hand. “Which means we’ll probably expose each other.”

Aaron hums, amused. “Oh, absolutely.”

Y/N smirks, looking directly at him. “You nervous?”

He pretends to think about it, then shakes his head. “Nah, I got you figured out.”

Y/N scoffs. “We’ll see about that.”

They turn to the camera, their hands still linked.

“Let’s get into it.”

Wholesome + Funny

Aaron picks up the first card. “Alright—who dies first in a horror movie?”

Y/N immediately points at him. “You.”

Aaron’s jaw drops. “Me? Nah, you gotta be kidding.”

She nods confidently. “Absolutely you. You’re the one who’d go check a ‘mysterious noise’ in the middle of the night.”

Aaron gives her a look. “And you wouldn’t?”

Y/N shakes her head. “Nope. I’d be halfway down the road, sprinting.”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head. “Alright, fair. But I feel like—”

“Nope,” Y/N interrupts. “Gone. Vanished. No final girl monologue. Just out.”

Aaron sighs, reading the next question. “Who is most likely to finish the milk and not say anything?”

Y/N side-eyes him.

Aaron sighs, rubbing his temples. “Why are you looking at me?”

Y/N folds her arms. “Because it’s you, Aaron.”

Aaron drags a hand down his face. “It was one time.”

Y/N raises a brow. “One time?”

Aaron stifles a laugh. “A few times.”

Y/N turns to the camera. “Multiple. Times.”

Aaron grins. “But I make up for it in other ways.”

She narrows her eyes. “Mm-hmm. Let’s move on before you incriminate yourself further.”

Aaron clears his throat. “Next question—what’s my favourite protective style to see you in?”

Y/N tilts her head, already knowing the answer. “Knotless braids.”

Aaron nods, smiling. “Correct. But it’s specifically when you have ‘em fresh done. Edges laid. Scalp on display.”

Y/N grins. “You really are obsessed.”

Aaron leans in. “You have no idea.”

Y/N swallows, suddenly shy, then quickly changes the subject. “Next section!”

Playful + Cheeky

Y/N reads the next card. “Who made the first move?”

Aaron smirks. “Technically, you.”

Y/N gasps. “Absolutely not.”

Aaron shrugs. “You lingered when we hugged.”

Y/N groans, covering her face. “That is not making the first move.”

Aaron laughs. “It was a long linger. An intentional linger.”

Y/N huffs. “Whatever. Next question.”

Aaron picks up the next card. “Who apologises first after an argument?”

Y/N immediately says, “Me.”

Aaron laughs, nodding. “Yeah. And I love you for that.”

Y/N side-eyes him. “Mmm, because you’re stubborn.”

Aaron leans in, voice softer. “Because you’re patient with me.”

Y/N pauses, then nudges him playfully. “Whatever, next question.”

Aaron reads it aloud. “Who’s more likely to initiate…?”

Y/N cackles, shaking her head. “You already know it’s you.”

Aaron tilts his head. “But is that a complaint?”

Y/N shifts in her seat, suddenly flustered. “Next section!”

Aaron chuckles. “Mm-hmm.”

Deep + Romantic

Y/N picks up a card. “What’s your favourite thing about me?”

Aaron exhales, smiling. “The way you make me feel like home.”

Y/N blinks.

Aaron looks at her, earnest. “No matter where we are, if I’m with you, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

Y/N clears her throat. “That’s not fair.”

Aaron chuckles. “Your turn.”

Y/N looks at the card, then at him. “What’s something you’ve never told me?”

Aaron hesitates, then says, “Before we got together, I used to practice how I’d ask you out.”

Y/N laughs. “What?”

Aaron grins sheepishly. “I had, like… different scenarios. Different versions in my head. Some were smooth. Some were a disaster.”

Y/N shakes her head, smiling. “And which one did you end up using?”

Aaron chuckles. “None of ‘em. I panicked and just blurted it out.”

Y/N laughs, nudging him. “And look at us now.”

Aaron hums. “Look at us now.”

Final Question

Aaron picks up the last card. “What’s the one thing we’ll always have, no matter what?”

Y/N doesn’t hesitate. “Us.”

Aaron smiles, reaching for her hand.

Y/N intertwines their fingers. “No matter what happens, we’ll always have us.”

Aaron nods. “Damn right we will.”

The screen fades to black, leaving only the sound of their laughter lingering in the background.

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[jifloulette]

reo brainrot is plaguing my mind so here's some short bf hcs !!!!!

note ; oh my god this was rotting in my drafts since NOVEMBER. finally got the energy to finish the last one my gosh..

bf reo mikage whose mood completely depends on yours !

his classmates find it silly how you could be sitting on your chair feeling down because of a low test score you got and reo would be there beside you, seemingly sad too, but because of what?? he got an A+ on the same test after all..? his family finds it relieving to see reo smiling beamingly whenever you're smiling, you wouldn't even be smiling directly at him yet he'd still look gleeful! his teammates find it weird how reo could be mad at them, yelling and yelling, shouting and shouting, reminding them to play properly and get their act together and then you come in unannounced with a box of cookies and that same smile reo adores, suddenly his eyes light up and he's squealing when you come closer to him as if he just didn't swear the living shit out of his teammates. if reo could do cartwheels and frontflips, he would've done those on the way to you because he is just so madly in love with youuuuu!!!!

bf reo mikage who absolutely loves hearing go on and on and on about your day !

he especially loves it more when you're spilling tea about people from your class. i mean yeah he knows it's bad but he can't help it? the way you're so focused on telling him an almost 3 minute gossip about this one girl in your history class is all he needs to just lay there on bed with you as he caresses your hair. those moments seldom happen, it usually has you having him lay on your chest while you talk about the funny incident at math class where your teacher forgot about the quiz that was supposed to be taken today and how you got 2 drinks from the vending machine instead of one because you had stumbled over air and hit the machine harshly which caused another drink to fall down. oh and he sees your eyes glimmer up and how you almost always run out of breath because you just have so much to tell him! even if he's always clinging to you either by interlocking arms or grabbing your waist, you'll always have some stories to ramble that even he doesn't know off!

bf reo mikage who impulsively buys anything he sees in stores that remind you of him !

it's a bad habit of his but is it really that bad when he gets to feel you embrace him when he shows you the new matching keychains he bought the two of you? though you tend to scold him for spoiling you rotten, nothing will ever stop him from buying you gifts and trinkets because that's his love language! passing by popmart and sees the mofusand hippers? automatically buys FIVE because he thought they looked like you whenever you were zoning out which is a telltale sign that you badly needed reo to give you a piggyback ride home, not that he minded it though. he's scrolling through facebook and an ad for a jacket pops up? he's already buying two versions, one for you and one for him so that you guys can match! reo def gets offended when you ask him how much they cost and that you'll pay him back because he is your BOYFRIENDDD, he will buy those gifts with NO intention of getting something back.

bf reo mikage who lets you do all sorts of hairstyles on him !

he will also proudly show it off when you guys are at school too, he could care less about what other people think because why would he? his s/o did that hairstyle for him so why should he be ashamed? you would see a cute hairstyle post whilst scrolling through Tiktok and wanted to try it out, but before doing it on you, what better way to see if it was cute by trying it out on your boyfriend? reo wouldn't even try to say no because he wouldn't mind it at all, plus it was a good way to spend time with you. you would let him hold your phone as you try to follow the steps in the video as quickly yet properly as you can. after a few mistakes and redos, you had finished the look and dare you say, it may fit him better than you.. reo looked really good even though the hairstyle was a bit on the feminine side. he'd keep it on for the entire day, not caring or doing anything when the teachers tell him to take it off (rich boy privileges LMAO) oh and later on, you'd also put pins and hairclips on him too! the ones that matched his hair and eyes! this would also be a frequent sleepover activity the two of you do, reo would set up a space in his room dedicated to THIS specific thing!!!

©🇯​​🇮​​��​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else. ౨ৎ

[fairestwriting]

RAHHHH, I LOVR YOUR WRITING!!!!

Can I kindly request for Leona, Jade, and Idia with a Hyper! Reader?

Like, Reader is up for everything and anything and is always either preparing for shenanigans or doing them.

ah yes. the trio i am definitely not biased towards when it comes to writing stuff (TYSM im glad you like it!!! i hope you enjoy this too <33

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

It’s a good thing that you’re so lively, you can just have energy for the two of you, is the sort of thing you’ll hear from him a lot. Always seasoned with his signature snarky feeling, sometimes he’s more exasperated, and other times, he can actually sound quite fond and sweet.

The “Herbivore” nickname isn’t going away anytime soon, that’s for sure. It’s more than just a little jab at how non threatening you come off— You honestly kind of remind him of a rabbit. If you ask him to elaborate he says it’s because you’re “always hopping around and sticking your nose into other people’s business”. If you ask him for further explanation he says you’re just proving his point by being too curious.

To anyone who knows how to read him, it becomes quite visible that he’s really very unsuccessful at concealing how endearing he thinks your antics are. He’ll never miss an opportunity to tell you he’s absolutely not going to join you on whatever you’re up to that day, and yet… he’s always there to say these exact words.

You might manage to convince him to take you out on some fun dates, things like going to amusement parks or arcades. He actually really enjoys it, despite always playing up that unamused, grumpy act. Most of the time he’ll just stand on the sidelines and watch while you have your fun, but it’s not that hard to bait him into following you to the roller coaster. At the end of the day, he tells you he hopes you’re satisfied because he won’t be indulging you again too soon— Something you can easily prove wrong in about a week or so.

𐙚 Jade Leech

He’s always not-so-secretly overjoyed to hear about any new troublemaker type that might pop up into Azul’s radar. These people are always the most interesting to observe, after all. So even before you two actually spoke, you’ve been keeping him more than engaged.

Jade has no desire to actively cause anything that might count as mischief… or at least that’s what he says. It’s not a full blown lie, but the key word here really is “actively” — Any antics of yours that he can support will be supported. Whether by conveniently making others too intimidated to get in your way, or sharing little hints of possible interesting things to do around school. It takes him some time to start actually tagging along, even if it’s just to stand around and watch you having your fun, but when he starts to do it, he’s pretty much become your new henchman.

While he mostly keeps to himself, if you show any interest in going on hikes with him, or learning about mushrooms and such, you’ll find that he can match your energy level quite easily. Jade is actually a bit surprised at your enthusiasm when it comes to that, he’s always wondered how it’d be like to explore the woods with a partner. Very quick to make new hiking plans, even quicker to think of multiple creative ways to use up whatever you picked while out.

He finds himself smiling and laughing a lot when he’s by your side. Of course, he already does both often in general, but it’s different when he’s with you. You always have some new, interesting topic to talk about, paired with a remarkable skill to find entertaining points about seemingly anything, it’s really contagious to him.

𐙚 Idia Shroud

Thinks it’s a miracle someone like you ever became interested in him. Shouldn’t a pessimistic, anxious introvert just come off as boring to someone who’s so bright and active? For a good while, Idia just couldn’t understand how you’d even fit him into your world. You two are just so different—

He would’ve probably rejected you out of sheer hopelessness if it wasn’t for the fact that… pairing a cheerful character with a gloomy one is, in fact, a pretty popular romance trope in anime. A part of him, sort of shyly and almost guiltily, hoped that he would get to have that in real life one day.

The fact you’re even open to indulging his interests definitely helps to bring you two closer. He was so anxious about showing you anything he liked, even if it was some popular game everyone in school is talking about, it’s just too nerdy for someone like you, isn’t it? Sometimes he’s still comically surprised whenever you mention liking a game or something like that. But he can get over his nervousness pretty quickly when you suggest playing together, even if it’s just on call.

When you’re messing with other people, he likes watching it from afar. Texts asking for updates on how your latest plans are going. If he can, he’ll even bail you out of trouble, it’s not like it’s that hard to make one of the school cameras just stop working for a little bit… And he really likes your reactions to him doing things like that, the way you praise his skills with so much enthusiasm. It really makes him feel like he’s won in life, honestly.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[cybrheartheart]

OMFG, this is soooo important. I didn't have this; my family didn't do anything together except watch TV because my dad was retired and just needed to rest after his weary years of life. And my egg donor was never there in my life. I never learned crap from her because she was never there.

I learned more from my teachers and neighbors than anyone else, and once I got too old, they didn't want anything to do with me because I wasn't theirs and I had trauma that no one wanted to deal with, because I wasn't theirs.

I have a deep encompassing black hole in my life because of this lack of empathy for someone who just needed someone to be there for me...someone to actually be there and teach me hands on. Please be there for the next generations to come, because they won't have the systematic support that children who fall in the cracks have had when we were growing up, and even the little amount of support we have left these days in the US.

Be there for your children, or be there for those children who are not yours...be they your grandchild, nibling, neighbor kid, or students. Be a safe space, a safe harbor for their lives, and be the example I've never had in my life.

Create life in this time of destruction and harm that will be ahead...and know, we have each other, we have community, we have support, if we're able and willing to create it, even for those kids who seem weird, do weird things, and just embarrass and humiliate themselves because they just can't help it...since they're doing it because they haven't been taught the right way to do it in a way that will help them learn.

Teach why it is important for them to cook, to clean, to take care of themselves, to bathe and shower and clean areas that no one will talk about (hands off, of course), give them your silence so their voice can be heard, give them a place where they won't be looked at with judgement. Give them a loving manner without conditions. Allow them to talk about things that spew out of their minds, random things that no one else will talk about, and give them the opportunity to live without groomers opening them up to abuse.

When children are clean slates, they are open to abuse, to inappropriate touching, to violence, to malicious control, to brainwashing (gaslighting, negging, etc.), to abduction, to kidnapping, to illicit drugs*, and so much more.

Fill your children to the brim with your presence, with your time, with your attention, with your energy, otherwise someone else will fill them up with something worse, trauma, pain, suffering, emotional or psychological torture, and will resent you in their teens and into adulthood.

Don't get me wrong, my dad was always there, but that doesn't mean people were not able to get to me. He invited family and friends into the home all the time to spend time with me, to give me the parental figure I didn't have, but it didn't satisfy because they were never there but to see him and I was an afterthought. And thought he was there, he had people to keep me company and that one person abused me while he wasn't there, and he never knew, he never would have allowed me to stay with them during his heart attack.

One week of my life that damaged me beyond repair and forced me into a position to tell no one. I had no one to trust, had no one's attention, no one to understand with a look that something was wrong with me and I didn't want to go anywhere with this person. I was isolated and it traumatized me for life, and it's hard for me to trust anymore. I can trust mentally, but my body will not allow me to trust, my psychology will not allow me to trust, and it is hardest to reach out when I really needed someone, because I didn't have anyone who was willing to give me a safe space, a safe harbor.

Give children the chance to trust you. Trust is earned, not forced on others. Give them safety, security, and protection...even if they don't have that at home, school, or other places. Give them yours. Always. Choose them. Always.

*And as a side note, since illicit drugs are a lot of the time these days laced with fentanyl. Illicit drugs will most often not just be addictive, but be more often than in the past, lethal. Hospitals use patches to administer fentanyl because lethal doses are so miniscule. When it comes down it the addition of fentanyl leads to instant death. And a lot of the time, you don't know what illicit drugs are cut with, baby powder, heroin, cocaine, rat poison...but fentanyl is a game changer entirely.

Someday your hands will be old and wrinkled, the skin spotted and bunching over your knuckles. And a child will watch you make something. It's a simple task, you'll have done it a thousand times before. But to that child, the smooth, confident way your hands move will seem like impossible magic. You have to keep living.

[neeeooon]

when you’re sick ;

blue lock x gn!reader

isagi yoichi

-> the unlikely return of momsagi????

-> he doesn’t even really have to say anything. he just hangs out with you, subtly checking your temperature when he thinks you’re sleeping, and making sure you have enough blankets and water

-> you are suspicious. “how did you learn to be so… caring?” “?! i’m always caring!” “you laughed when i fell down the stairs.” “cause it was funny! who falls down the stairs anymore, y/n? be honest.” “😐”

-> despite that, he does take good care of you. if you ask him for something, he doesn’t argue or tease you. isagi will simply kiss your forehead and get whatever it is you need

itoshi rin

-> rin doesn’t miss practice. not even when he broke three fingers on his left hand. so for him to call off when you tell him you aren’t feeling well, you panic a bit

-> you had the flu, and while it was annoying, you’d live. rin’s sudden presence made you think otherwise

-> “i’m dying.” you’d announce as rin feeds you soup, and he’d raise a brow at you. “you’re not dying.” “you wanted to spend my last moments together. i’m dying.”

-> eventually he convinced you that you’re not dying and that practice was going to get canceled anyway due to half the players getting the flu as well

barou shouei

-> ocd clean freak maid barou is struggling

-> you have a common cold, nothing too bad, and are still able to be a functioning member of society (at least you think so)

-> when barou heard that first sniffle from you, you were placed on house arrest and locked in your room so he could disinfect them entire house

-> after a few hours, you got bored and went downstairs to get some water. when barou spots you by the fridge, he freaks

-> “y/n?! what are you doing out of the infectious zone!!” “i’m thirsty..?” “go back upstairs! i’ll leave water outside the door for you.” “…”

-> you know he means well, so you don’t argue as you trudge back into solitary confinement

mikage reo

-> he goes all out

-> you’re sick?? nope. reo is with you all the time, asking what you need, getting whatever that is, and even offers to call an in-house doctor for you when you don’t instantly get better

-> “reo, it’s just a cold. i’ll be better tomorrow.” “but that’s so far away :( what do you need? i’ll get it for you!“

-> he surrounds you with plushies and puts on your favorite tv shows and makes sure you never have to lift a finger until you’re all better

nagi seishiro

-> he becomes your shadow

-> when you tell him you’re sick and want to lay in bed all day, he simply nods and slips into bed with you

-> “you’re gonna get sick,” you tell him as he buries his face into the back of your neck. “hmm you can take care of me next, then.”

-> nagi just hangs out with you until you’re feeling better. he lets you watch as he plays games and will bring you delivered food since neither of you would survive his cooking

-> he does get sick, and you do end up taking care of him

michael kaiser

-> he gets worried whenever you aren’t being your normal self, and the flu sucked all the energy out of you

-> kaiser doesn’t want to bother you or risk annoying you while you’re sick, so he kind of sulks around and pokes his head into your room every now and again to ask if you need anything

-> you find his behavior cute and a little pathetic, so when he appears a third time, you ask him to mask up and join you in bed

-> he’ll hold you tight as you watch youtube together, and you assure him that you’re fine and will be better in no time

[beemovieerotica]

What is up with Congress going "What Trump and Elon are doing is illegal!!!" And then still obeying them and letting them continue to do said illegal shit like ??? Do they just not give a fuck? Is it ragebait publicity and what's going on is actually normal ???

The above is a really helpful site to keep bookmarked during this time. At present, there are seven groups who have filed legal complaints regarding the executive order on birthright citizenship, four groups that have filed complaints on DOGE's right to operate, multiple individuals fighting the orders on various trans rights, and the Society of Friends is fighting back against the order that would allow ICE to invade houses of worship. Some of the entries have updates regarding pauses / restraining orders to Trump's demands.

These are all non-Congressional entities - unions, churches, activist groups, Jane and John Does - that are taking a stand, and they're worth supporting.

On the other hand...

Democrats in Congress are laser-focused on 2026...and they're not going to help with much else. They have explicitly stated that they are dropping "culture war" issues - they won't be engaging on trans rights or mass deportations, because according to exit polls, it was a big reason they lost the election. The average American does not care about trans people or immigrants. People want two things: 1) Cheaper gas. 2) Cheaper eggs. They do not read the news. They have no idea that Obamacare and the ACA are the same thing. They genuinely believe life was better under Trump because they got a check for $1000 in the mail. Our civics education and political literacy is in the fucking toilet.

So Congressional Democrats are bending to the right to accommodate the oblivious centrist voter, and my faith in them has expired. I don't trust the people on Capitol Hill - I'm an ex-Californian who had to watch as a 90-year old Dianne Feinstein shambled her way around Congress and refused to make way for younger politicians who don't have dementia. So I'm very strongly of the opinion that Washington will continue to be run by old money, lobbyists, and geriatrics, and the actual fights are going to be won at a local level, where we'll be working to make individual cities and states into havens. We are already essentially a patchwork of safe states versus not - I anticipate we'll see the lines bolden even more in the next few years, and I'm focusing my political energy on my immediate neighborhood and city for the time being.