#eat something and tell someone you love them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fvsm4x · 12 hours ago

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synopsis. Pregnancy, usually a positive outcome of love between two partners that love each other deeply. But Pregnancy resulting from someone using you for their own pleasure is far from a positive outcome

+ warning/content. bully Gojo Satoru x female reader - reader is pregnant - mentions of abortion - mature themes/MDNI - usual warnings - suguru and reader are siblings - reader lowkey depressed - ANGST - chapter 3 from the series regret

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(Six Months Later – Present Timeline, Winter)

The cold hit you the moment you stepped out of the convenience store, the biting wind cutting through your coat like it wasn’t even there. You exhaled, watching your breath curl into the air before disappearing into the night. Winter had settled in, coating the streets in frost, making everything feel sharper—like the world itself was trying to wake you up from the numbness that had taken root inside you.

It was late, past midnight, but the city was still alive. The neon glow of street signs flickered against the wet pavement, and a group of drunk salarymen stumbled out of a nearby izakaya, their laughter echoing down the empty streets. You ignored them, keeping your head down as you walked past, one hand tightening around the plastic bag of food you’d just bought.

You hadn’t meant to stay out this late. You hadn’t meant to go out at all.

The apartment was suffocating some nights. The quietness that had once felt like an escape now felt like a void, pressing in from all sides, swallowing you whole. You would sit on the couch, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of the heater, the occasional creak of the walls. No messages lit up your phone. No knocks ever came at the door. You were untethered, drifting through days that bled into each other, feeling more like a ghost in your own life than a person.

It was easier to disappear into routine. Wake up. Force yourself to eat. Scroll through new job listings. Go work. Stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, searching for something—some sign that you were different, that you were changing. But your face remained the same, your body shifting a bit. Even at six months, no one could tell.

Maybe that was why it didn’t feel real.

Or maybe it was because you still couldn’t bring yourself to think about the future.

The thought of it sent a dull panic through you, one you had learned to push down, to ignore, to bury under layers of distractions. You moved through each day as if you were still waiting for something—for someone to tell you what to do, for something to force your hand. But there was nothing. Just the cold, the empty apartment, and the quiet knowledge that you were running out of time.

You let out a slow breath and turned down the quieter street that led to the apartment. The cold made your fingers stiff, but you welcomed the sting—it was better than feeling nothing at all.

The walk back to the apartment was short, but the cold made every step feel longer. The night air clung to your skin, biting at your exposed fingers despite the way you stuffed them deep into your coat pockets. The plastic bag in your hand rustled with every movement, a small reminder of the meager groceries you had managed to pick up. It wasn’t much—just a few essentials, things that wouldn’t take long to prepare.

You barely noticed the people passing by, their faces blurred, their voices fading into the background like static. Laughter echoed from a nearby bar, followed by the distant sound of a car engine revving. The world kept moving, oblivious to the storm inside you.

As you approached the entrance to the apartment complex, you hesitated.

The building loomed above you, dark windows reflecting the streetlights like empty eyes staring down. You swallowed hard, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. It wasn’t fear that kept you rooted in place. It was exhaustion—the kind that seeped into your bones, making every action feel like wading through thick, invisible water.

You knew what was waiting for you inside.

Nothing.

An empty apartment. A quiet room. A cold bed. With a heavy breath, you forced yourself forward, gripping the handle and pushing the door open.

The warmth inside barely made a difference. The apartment was just as you had left it—dim, sparsely furnished, and suffocatingly quiet. The heater hummed in the background, its soft drone the only sound breaking the silence. You locked the door behind you, placing the plastic bag on the counter before shrugging off your coat.

Everything felt mechanical. You moved without thinking, going through the motions simply because you had to. The fridge opened with a quiet creak as you placed the milk inside, rearranging a few items out of habit. You set the instant ramen on the counter, along with the sandwiches you had bought, then leaned against the counter, exhaling slowly.

It wasn’t much, but it would last. At least for a few days. You glanced toward the mirror hanging by the entrance, catching your reflection in the dim light.

Same face.

Same tired eyes.

Same person.

You tugged at the hem of your oversized sweater, fingers absentmindedly smoothing over the fabric. Your stomach wasn‘t flat anymore, but still easy to hide. The loose clothing made sure of that. No one could tell just by looking at you. Not yet, anyway.

Maybe that was why it still didn’t feel real.

Even though you knew what was happening, even though you could feel the exhaustion weighing heavier each day, it still felt like something distant—something that belonged to someone else.

You turned away from the mirror. No use thinking about it.

Instead, you moved to the couch, sinking into the cushions with a quiet sigh. The silence pressed against you, thick and unrelenting. You had gotten used to it by now, but that didn’t mean it ever felt comfortable.

The loneliness had settled in like an unwelcome guest, making itself at home in every corner of the apartment.

You pulled your legs up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees as you curled into yourself. The apartment felt impossibly quiet, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears, making your own thoughts sound too loud. The dim glow of the streetlights outside cast long shadows across the room, stretching over the floor and onto the walls, making everything feel distorted—unfamiliar, even after all this time.

Your gaze drifted to the coffee table in front of you, where a few crumpled receipts lay scattered next to an unopened bottle of water. That was it. Nothing else. No sign of life, no clutter, nothing that made this space feel lived in.

You should do something.

Eat. Sleep. Move. Go work.

Anything to make time pass faster, to break the endless cycle of nothingness that had settled over you. But instead, you just sat there, staring, trapped in your own mind as the seconds bled into minutes, stretching endlessly before you.

Then—

A knock at the door.

The sudden sound shattered the silence, making you jolt. Your breath caught in your throat, your muscles tensing on instinct. The apartment was too quiet for something like that—it made the knock seem impossibly loud, like it didn’t belong here.

You didn’t move at first.

Maybe you imagined it.

No one ever knocked. No one ever came here.

Except—

Another knock.

Firm. Unhurried. Patient.

Your pulse quickened, a dull pounding in your ears. Your eyes flickered toward the door, your body rigid. It was stupid, but for a moment, you considered ignoring it, as if pretending no one was there would make them leave.

But they wouldn’t. You knew that.

There was only one person who ever came here.

Suguru.

You swallowed, forcing your body to move. The couch groaned as you uncurled yourself, placing your feet on the cold floor. The air felt heavier now, pressing against your chest with every hesitant step you took toward the door.

The floorboards creaked under your weight, each sound amplified in the quiet. You hesitated when you reached the door, standing there for a second too long, your fingers hovering just above the handle.

A deep breath.

Then another.

And finally, you turned the knob, pulling the door open just enough to peer outside.

And there he was.

Suguru.

Standing in the dim light of the hallway, his dark coat draped over his shoulders, one hand in his pocket while the other one held into the plastic bag, and an unreadable expression in his sharp eyes.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then—

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, steady.

And just like that, the weight in your chest shifted—if only slightly.

Your throat felt tight. “Hey.”

His gaze flickered downward, barely noticeable, but you caught it immediately. It was quick—so quick that if you weren’t paying attention, you might have missed it. But you knew exactly what he was looking for, what he was checking. Even through the oversized hoodie you wore, his eyes lingered just long enough to confirm what he already knew.

Neither of you ever talked about it, but the knowledge sat heavy between you. He had always known. From the moment you got kicked out of your parents house, he had known. And yet, despite everything, he never asked. Never pried. Never pushed you to say more than you wanted to. Maybe that was why you let him keep coming back. Because he was the only one who didn’t look at you with judgment, who didn’t ask you to explain yourself when you didn’t have the words.

“Can I come in?” His voice was calm, steady. But he was already stepping forward before you had a chance to respond, his presence pressing into the small space of the doorway.

You didn’t stop him. You simply shifted to the side, allowing him to pass. The air in the apartment changed the second he stepped inside, the silence no longer as heavy as it had been just moments ago. The loneliness didn’t disappear, but it dulled just a little, just enough to remind you what it was like to have someone around.

He moved through the space like he belonged there, like it was second nature. His hand placed down the plastic bag, and worked the buttons of his coat as he made his way toward the couch, shrugging it off effortlessly and draping it over the back of the cushions. He didn’t ask where to put it. He didn’t need to. He had lived here once. Before it became yours, before your brother stopped using it altogether. Before it turned into something else entirely—a place for you to exist in but never truly call home.

Suguru took in the room with a quiet, assessing glance, as if searching for any signs of change. There weren’t many. The apartment still carried that same impersonal emptiness, the same untouched air of a place barely lived in. You hadn’t done much to change that, except maybe placing a few toys onto the shelf for your child.

His gaze eventually returned to you, unreadable as always. He was waiting—for what, you weren’t sure. Maybe for you to say something. Maybe for some indication that you were okay. But the truth was, you weren’t sure what to say. What was there to say? Nothing had changed. You were still here, still trying to figure out what came next, still completely alone. Except, at least for now, you weren’t.

Suguru turned to look at you again, arms loosely crossed, his expression unreadable. “Have you been eating?”

The question hit like a stone dropped into still water, sending ripples through the fragile quiet that had settled between you. You tensed, fingers curling into the oversized sleeves of your sweater, the fabric bunched tightly in your grip. You hesitated for half a second before muttering, “Yeah.”

But he saw right through you. He always did. His gaze didn’t waver, didn’t soften, and when he finally spoke, it was flat, unyielding. “You’re lying.”

A sigh slipped past your lips as you rubbed your temples, already feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down. “I’m fine, Suguru.” You tried to make it sound firm, convincing, but even to your own ears, it came out weak.

He didn’t respond right away, but his silence was louder than words. Without another glance at you, he walked past, heading straight for the kitchen. You listened as he pulled open the fridge door, the faint suction sound of the seal breaking, followed by the dull clatter of a few nearly-empty bottles shifting inside.

Then the door slammed shut.

“You call this eating?” His voice carried a sharp edge, one that made irritation spike through you, replacing the dull ache of exhaustion.

You turned, arms crossing over your chest, the defensive posture coming almost instinctively. “I don’t need a lecture.”

But he wasn’t fazed. If anything, he looked even more unimpressed. “Then start taking care of yourself so I don’t have to give you one.” His tone was firm, leaving little room for argument, like he had already decided he wasn’t going to drop this.

You hated that. Hated how he spoke to you like he had the right to be concerned, like you were his responsibility. He had been like this ever since he found out—hovering, checking in, making sure you weren’t completely falling apart.

But you were. Even if you didn’t want to admit it.

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably as you glanced away, shifting on your feet. You sighed, rubbing your arms as you tried to ignore the heaviness pressing down on your chest. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Suguru tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “Do what?”

“Act like you’re responsible for me.”

For a moment, something flickered in his expression—too quick to decipher, too subtle to grasp. And then, with quiet certainty, he said, “I’m not acting.”

The words caught you off guard, making your breath hitch for just a second. Your lips parted, but nothing came out. You had nothing to say to that.

Suguru sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, his frustration bleeding into the silence. “Look, I’m not here to fight with you. I just—” He stopped mid-sentence, shaking his head slightly as if dismissing whatever thought had momentarily surfaced. “Never mind.”

But you knew what he wasn’t saying.

He was worried.

And the worst part? You weren’t sure if you deserved it.

You swallowed, looking away. When you spoke again, your voice was quieter, almost hesitant. “I’m fine, Suguru.”

His jaw tensed slightly. “You keep saying that.”

You had no response. Because you both knew it wasn’t true.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face before shaking his head. “God, you’re so damn stubborn.”

You scoffed, arms tightening around yourself. “Look who’s talking.”

For a second, something almost like amusement flickered across his face, but it was gone just as quickly. He studied you for a moment, then glanced back toward the fridge before walking over and grabbing the unopened bottle of water from the table. He tossed it lightly in your direction.

“Drink,” he said simply.

You caught it, fingers tightening around the plastic. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” His tone left no room for argument.

Rolling your eyes, you twisted the cap off and took a sip, if only to get him off your back. The water was cold, and the feeling of it sliding down your throat reminded you just how little you had actually eaten or drunk today.

Suguru sighed again, but this time, it wasn’t sharp or frustrated. Just… tired.

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Your grip tightened around the bottle.

“I know,” you lied.

He didn’t call you out on it this time.

And yet, despite the tension, despite the silence that stretched between you like an unspoken confession, you were still grateful.

Because for the first time in a long time—at least for tonight—you weren’t completely alone.

Suguru leaned against the counter, arms still crossed, his sharp eyes watching you like he was debating his next words carefully. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the fridge, the distant noise of traffic outside.

Then, finally, he spoke. “Have you thought about baby stuff yet?”

You stiffened, your fingers still curled around the water bottle. “What?”

“You know.” He gestured vaguely with one hand. “Crib. Clothes. Stroller. All that.”

The words sent a shiver through you, an immediate reminder of the reality you kept trying to push to the back of your mind. You hadn’t thought about it. Not really. You bought a few plushies but that’s all. Every time you wanted to buy something more, your brain shut down. It was too much. Or too expensive.

Your silence was answer enough.

Suguru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he studied you. His expression wasn’t annoyed, but there was a weight to it—like he had already expected this answer but had still hoped for something different.

“You can’t just ignore it forever,” he said, voice firm but not unkind.

“I’m not ignoring it,” you muttered, gripping the water bottle tighter.

Suguru scoffed. “Really? Then where’s the crib?”

You exhaled sharply, looking away. “I’ll get to it.”

“When?”

The question hung in the air, and you hated how you didn’t have an answer. The truth was, you didn’t even know where to start. Every time you tried to imagine yourself shopping for baby things, walking through aisles of tiny clothes and bottles and strollers, a crushing sense of dread filled your chest.

Suguru must have seen something in your face because his stance softened slightly. “Look, I get it. It’s overwhelming. But the longer you wait, the harder it’s gonna be.”

You swallowed, staring at the floor. “I don’t even know what I need.”

“Then I’ll help,” he said simply.

That made you lift your head. “What?”

“I’ll help,” he repeated, pushing off the counter. “We’ll go baby shopping. Pick out the basics. It doesn’t have to be today, but soon. And we’ll figure out the crib situation too.”

You stared at him, unsure what to say. Suguru wasn’t the type to throw around empty offers, but you hadn’t expected this.

“…Why?” The word slipped out before you could stop it.

He frowned. “What do you mean, why?”

“You don’t have to do this,” you said quietly. “This isn’t your responsibility.”

Suguru’s gaze darkened slightly, like the words annoyed him, but instead of snapping, he just exhaled through his nose. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna sit back and watch you drown either.”

Something about the way he said it made your throat tighten. You had no idea what you had done to deserve his kindness, but for the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel completely alone in this.

“…Okay,” you murmured after a long pause. “We’ll go.”

Suguru nodded like that was all he needed to hear. “Good. I’ll send you some lists later so you can look through them first. We don’t have to get everything at once.”

You nodded absently, processing his words, but your mind was already spiraling. Baby shopping. Buying a crib. Preparing for a future that still felt impossible.

For the first time, it felt like things were really moving forward.

The sound of sneakers scuffing against the tiled floors filled the hallway as students moved between classes, their voices blending into an indistinct hum. Suguru barely paid attention to the noise, his mind elsewhere.

He leaned against his locker, arms crossed, his expression neutral but his thoughts anything but. Ever since he found out about her situation, he had been feeling… off. He wasn’t sure how to describe it—frustration, worry, a sense of obligation he couldn’t shake. She had always been independent, always kept her struggles to herself, and yet now she was in a situation where she shouldn’t have to be alone.

But she was.

And he was the only one who seemed to care.

Suguru wasn’t naive. He knew people in this school—their school—loved to talk, to whisper, to spread rumors. He had already overheard fragments of conversations.

“She just disappeared.”

“Did something happen?”

“She probably dropped out.”

“Good riddance.”

The last one had made his jaw clench.

Suguru exhaled sharply, pushing himself off the locker. He had been thinking about her a lot lately—the baby, the things she would need, the reality of what was coming. It wasn’t like she had anyone else to help her figure it out.

“You look deep in thought.”

A familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Shoko standing nearby. She leaned against the lockers, watching him with mild amusement.

he scoffed. “I always look deep in thought.”

Shoko smirked. “Yeah, but this time you look like you’re thinking a little too hard. What’s up?”

He hesitated. He hadn’t told anyone—not about her, not about the baby, nothing. It wasn’t his secret to share. But that didn’t mean the weight of it wasn’t getting to him.

“Nothing,” he finally said, shrugging.

Shoko raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. Instead, sighed before speaking again. “You going to that party this weekend?”

Suguru shook his head. “No.”

She gave him a curious look. “You? Skipping a party? That’s new.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his gaze flickered down the hallway, landing on the familiar figure of his best friend. Gojo was in the middle of a group, grinning like he always did, throwing an arm around some girl’s shoulders as if the world was his to play with. He was laughing—loud, carefree, like nothing had changed.

And that was the problem.

Ever since she stopped coming to school, things had felt… off. At first, it had been subtle, something he only noticed in passing. A name missing from attendance. A glance toward an empty desk. But as the days turned into months, as she faded from the halls entirely, he realized something else—something that didn’t sit right with him.

Satoru.

Suguru had known Satoru for years. He knew his habits, his tells, the little things most people overlooked. And before, when she missed school for too long, Satoru would eventually bring her up. Not in any way that stood out—not with obvious concern or anything—but he’d mention her. A passing comment. A joke about her slacking off. A lazy, “Hey, your sister’s skipping again?” Something.

But now?

Nothing.

Suguru had waited, giving it time, expecting Satoru to ask about her at some point. He never did not even after 6 months.

And when Suguru tried to bring her up himself—casually, just a joke perhaps. Satoru would brush right past it, like he hadn’t heard him at all.

The first time, Suguru let it go. Maybe he was just distracted.

The second time, he took note of it.

The third time, he started paying closer attention.

Each time he mentioned her name, there was a barely noticeable shift in satoru‘s expression. A flicker of something—something Suguru couldn’t quite place—before his usual grin slid back into place. Like a mask snapping into position.

And that silence? It felt deliberate.

Suguru’s jaw tensed as he watched Satoru now, the way he threw his head back laughing, the way he carried himself so easily, like nothing in the world could bother him.

But something was bothering him.

He could feel it, that nagging feeling at the back of his mind, telling him that something wasn’t right. She never talked about him anymore. She never even said his name. And for someone as infuriating as Satoru, that alone was unusual.

He didn’t know what it meant yet. He didn’t know if it even did mean something.

But the uneasy feeling wouldn’t go away.

A familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“What, did Satoru piss you off again?”

Shoko. She had sidled up next to him, her hands stuffed into her pockets, her sharp eyes scanning his face like she could see what he was thinking.

He clicked his tongue, rolling his shoulders back. “When does he not?”

She snorted. “Fair point.”

He didn’t say anything else, just adjusted his bag over his shoulder and started walking.

Shoko fell into step beside him, throwing him a sideways glance. “Try not to overthink yourself into an early grave, will you?”

He didn’t answer.

Because right now, overthinking was the only thing keeping him from shaking the feeling that something was wrong.

The door clicked shut behind Suguru, and the silence rushed back in like a wave, swallowing the apartment whole.

You stayed still for a moment, staring at the empty space where he had just stood. The lingering warmth of his presence clashed with the cold reality settling deep in your bones.

Baby shopping.

The words echoed in your head, strange and foreign. Like they belonged to someone else’s life, not yours.

You pressed a hand to your stomach, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your sweater. Suguru meant well. He always did. And part of you hated that—hated that he was trying so hard to take responsibility for something that wasn’t his burden to carry.

But what else could he do? He didn’t know the whole story.

He didn’t know who the father was.

He didn’t know what Gojo had done.

Your stomach twisted at the thought, nausea curling up the back of your throat. You pressed your palm harder against the fabric, as if that could somehow ground you, as if that could stop the flood of memories threatening to drown you.

Gojo.

You hadn’t spoken to him since that day. You hadn’t seen him in months. And yet, somehow, he still haunted you—lingering in the corners of your mind like a stain you couldn’t scrub out.

Suguru was wrong.

This wasn’t something you could just prepare for.

No amount of shopping or planning or well-meaning support could change the fact that this wasn’t supposed to happen. That this wasn’t fair.

Your throat felt tight, like something was lodged there, something heavy and impossible to swallow.

You turned away from the door, walking back toward the couch on unsteady legs. The apartment felt too quiet again, too empty.

A part of you wanted to reach for your phone, to text Suguru, to tell him you’d changed your mind. That you couldn’t do this. That you didn’t want to go out and pretend like this was just a normal pregnancy, like it was something you had wanted, like this was just another step in your life.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you curled up on the couch, pulling a blanket over your shoulders, staring blankly at the opened bottle of water on the table.

The next day arrived sooner than you would have liked.

You barely slept.

The night had been a mess of tossing and turning, your mind refusing to shut off. Every time you closed your eyes, your thoughts spiraled back to the same inescapable truth—you were having a baby. And today, Suguru wanted to take you shopping, as if that would somehow make it all feel normal.

But nothing about this felt normal.

You stood in front of the mirror that morning, fingers gripping the hem of your oversized hoodie, tugging it down as far as it would go. The fabric bunched slightly under your hands before settling back into place, concealing everything underneath. You exhaled, slow and steady, tilting your head to the side as your gaze flickered downward, scanning your reflection with sharp, scrutinizing eyes.

Then—

A knock at the door.

The sudden noise cut through the stillness of your apartment, making you flinch. You turned your head slightly, staring toward the closed door, heartbeat quickening.

Suguru was here.

Already?

You blinked, caught off guard. Had time really gone by that quickly? It felt like just minutes ago that you were standing in this same spot, thinking about how he had been here the night before. And now he was back again, ready to take you baby shopping, as if this was some ordinary outing instead of the suffocating reality you were being forced to accept.

Your eyes drifted toward the clock hanging on the wall.

11:34 AM.

You frowned slightly. It was late enough that the city outside would already be bustling, the streets filled with people going about their day, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside you.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake the strange feeling that time was slipping through your fingers, moving too fast for you to keep up.

But it didn’t matter.

Suguru was here.

And whether you were ready or not, today was happening.

You exhaled slowly, forcing yourself to move. Standing here, lost in your thoughts, wasn’t going to change anything. The knock came again, a little firmer this time, and you knew Suguru was probably getting impatient.

With one last glance at your reflection—one last reassurance that nothing showed—you turned on your heel and made your way to the door (not before putting on your jacket). Your fingers hesitated on the knob for just a second before you pulled it open.

Suguru stood there, dressed in a dark grey hoodie, black jacket and jeans, looking as casual as ever. His sharp eyes scanned over you quickly, assessing, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just lifted a brow.

“You ready?”

You swallowed, gripping the edge of the door. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Suguru hummed, stepping back to let you lock the apartment behind you. As the two of you made your way down the hallway, the silence felt heavy—not awkward, just filled with something unspoken.

It wasn’t until you reached his car that he finally spoke again.

“You eat yet?”

You sighed. “Suguru.”

“What?” He opened the passenger side door for you before walking around to his own. “I’m just asking.”

You slid into the seat, clicking your seatbelt into place. “I ate.” It wasn’t a complete lie—if a couple of crackers counted.

Suguru didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push, just started the car and pulled out onto the road.

The drive was quiet, the city passing by in a blur of buildings and people. You kept your gaze fixed on the window, watching the movement outside, trying to push away the nerves crawling up your spine.

Baby shopping.

You still couldn’t wrap your head around it.

Suguru had mentioned it so casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world, like it wasn’t a reminder of everything you’d been trying not to think about. But now, sitting in the car, heading toward a store filled with things meant for a baby—your baby—it was impossible to ignore.

After a while, Suguru broke the silence.

“So, what do we actually need to get today?”

You let out a slow breath, fingers tightening in your lap. “I don’t know.”

Suguru glanced at you. “Well, we’re getting a crib for sure.”

You swallowed. “Right.”

“And clothes. And bottles. And whatever else babies need.”

Your stomach churned. The list was already too much.

Suguru must have noticed your expression, because he sighed. “Look, I know this is overwhelming.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “That’s an understatement.”

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “We’ll just take it one step at a time, alright?”

You didn’t answer. Because one step at a time still meant walking toward something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

When you arrived at the store, you hesitated at the entrance.

The automatic doors slid open with a soft whoosh, revealing rows and rows of baby supplies—cribs, strollers, clothes so tiny they looked unreal. The soft pastel colors and cheerful designs felt like they belonged to someone else’s life, not yours.

Suguru nudged your shoulder. “Come on.”

You took a step forward, following him inside, your movements stiff. The moment you entered, the atmosphere swallowed you whole—parents browsing, employees chatting, soft music playing overhead. Everything felt too real.

Suguru walked ahead, making a beeline toward the cribs. You trailed behind, feeling out of place among all the expecting mothers who looked excited to be here.

You weren’t excited.

You didn’t even know what you were supposed to be looking for.

Suguru, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine. He ran a hand over one of the cribs, inspecting it like he actually knew what he was doing.

“This one looks sturdy,” he said, knocking against the frame.

You stared at him. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

Suguru smirked. “I do my research.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Of course you do.”

After a moment, he gave you a look. “What about you? Any preferences?”

You looked at the cribs, at the neatly arranged nursery sets, at the price tags that made your stomach twist.

“I don’t know,” you admitted.

Suguru nodded like he expected that answer. “Alright. We’ll find one together.”

And just like that, he started going through the options, testing them out, asking you what you thought. He never rushed you, never made you feel like you had to choose something.

Little by little, the tension in your shoulders eased.

Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t completely alone in this after all.

You ran your fingers over the smooth edge of a crib, your mind still foggy from everything around you. The store was filled with cheerful pastels, tiny clothes folded neatly on display, and stuffed animals lined up like they were waiting for someone to take them home. Everything about this place felt too bright, too warm—too hopeful for someone like you.

Suguru was still focused on the crib selection, pressing down on the mattress of one, testing the sturdiness of another. He seemed oddly comfortable here, like he had been preparing for this moment far longer than you had.

“You’re supposed to check if the bars are too far apart,” he muttered, running his fingers between them. “So the baby doesn’t get their head stuck.”

You blinked at him. “Since when did you know so much about baby stuff?”

Suguru didn’t even look at you when he replied. “Google.”

That actually made you let out a small laugh. “You’ve been Googling baby things?”

He shrugged, setting the car seat back on the shelf. “If we’re gonna do this, we might as well do it right.”

We.

The word sat heavy in your chest. You knew he meant it in a practical way, in the way a responsible older brother would. But something about it made you feel like you were holding onto a lifeline, like maybe you weren’t entirely alone in this.

Still, the reality of everything crept back in as you wandered toward the clothing section. You hadn’t really thought about it before—not the clothes, not the blankets, not the fact that soon, there would be a tiny person who needed all of these things.

Your fingers brushed against a small yellow onesie, the fabric impossibly soft beneath your touch. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the lump forming in your throat. Could you really do this? Could you bring a child into your life when you could barely take care of yourself?

“You okay?”

Suguru’s voice snapped you back to the present, and you quickly dropped your hand to your side. “Yeah.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he grabbed a pack of baby socks and tossed them into the cart. “They’ll need these, right?”

You nodded, grateful that he was keeping things moving.

For the next hour, the two of you wandered through the store, picking out essentials—bottles, blankets, diapers, things you wouldn’t have even thought about if Suguru weren’t there. He moved methodically, as if he had a checklist in his head, while you mostly followed along, letting him lead.

You were staring blankly at a shelf of baby wipes when his voice cut through the air—careful, deliberate.

“So… what about the father?”

Your whole body stiffened.

The air in the store felt different, heavier, as if the walls had suddenly closed in. The noise around you faded, distant chatter blending into the hum of the overhead lights.

Suguru wasn’t looking at you. He was pretending to examine a pack of pacifiers, but his voice was too casual, too measured. Like he had been waiting to ask this. Which you guess he did. You two never talked about the father.

You swallowed, gripping the cart handle a little tighter. “What about him?”

Suguru sighed, turning to fully face you. His expression wasn’t accusing, but there was something in his eyes—something searching. “You never talk about him.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“That’s bullshit.” His voice was steady, but not unkind. “He knows, right?”

Your nails pressed into your palm. “Suguru—”

“Does he?”

You inhaled slowly, trying to keep your voice even. “It doesn’t matter.”

Suguru just stood there, waiting. He wasn’t the type to let things go easily, and you could feel the weight of his stare, pressing down on you, looking for the cracks in your walls.

For a second, you considered telling him. Just blurting everything out, letting the truth spill into the empty space between you.

But you didn’t.

Because saying it out loud would make it real. So instead, you did what you always did. You deflected. Keeping it all to yourself.

“It’s not important,” you said, reaching for a pack of bibs and dropping them into the cart. “Can we just finish shopping?”

Suguru didn’t move. His fingers twitched at his side, like he was debating whether or not to push.

For a moment, you thought he actually would. But then he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Fine. But you do know that we‘ll have to have this conversation sooner or later—”

„Yes“

The conversation ended there, but you both knew this wasn’t over. Because Suguru wasn’t stupid. And sooner or later, he was going to start asking the real questions.

But first— baby shopping.

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arxiwon · 12 hours ago

Text

Husband!Sunghoon, the cool yet secretly hopeless romantic˚˖𓍢ִ໋❀

Husband!Sunghoon The type to act cool but gets jealous so easily. You’re laughing at someone’s joke? He won’t say anything, just suddenly hold your waist a little tighter or kiss your cheek out of nowhere. If you tease him about it? “What? Can’t I kiss my wife?”

Husband!Sunghoon Loves when you play with his hair but pretends it’s no big deal. He’ll be sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone, but the second you start running your fingers through his hair? He melts instantly, eyes closing, completely relaxed.

Husband!Sunghoon Subtly checks up on you throughout the day. If you’re at home, he’ll pass by and ask, “You good?” before continuing whatever he was doing. If he’s away, you’ll get simple texts like, “How’s your day?” and “Did you eat?” (If you don’t respond fast enough, expect a call.)

Husband!Sunghoon Pouts when he wants attention but won’t ask for it. He’ll sit next to you, arms crossed, looking at you every few minutes, waiting for you to notice him. When you finally ask, “What’s wrong?” he’ll just mumble, “Nothing…” but then immediately pull you into a hug.

Husband!Sunghoon Always acts like he doesn’t care about couple traditions but secretly does. Anniversary? He’ll act like he forgot, only to surprise you with something incredibly thoughtful. Your birthday? He’ll act all casual, but you’ll wake up to a perfectly planned surprise.

Husband!Sunghoon Gets competitive when you compliment someone else. “That actor is so handsome.” He’ll immediately scoff and say, “I look better.” And if you tease him? He’ll sulk for at least 10 minutes.

Husband!Sunghoon Loves coming home to you. No matter how tired he is, the moment he steps inside and sees you, his entire demeanor softens. His first stop is always you—dropping his bags, pulling you into a hug, and sighing contently like he’s finally home.

Husband!Sunghoon Never lets you carry heavy things. Grocery bags? Your suitcase? Nope. He’ll take them from you, no questions asked. If you insist on carrying something, he’ll just say, “That’s my job.”

Husband!Sunghoon Steals your skincare products. But he’ll deny it every time. “Why does my moisturizer keep running out?” “No idea.” Meanwhile, his skin is looking flawless.

Husband!Sunghoon Loves listening to you talk. No matter how small or random, he genuinely enjoys hearing you ramble. Even if he’s tired, he’ll hum in response, letting you know he’s still listening.

Husband!Sunghoon Finds ways to stay close to you, even in public. He may not be overly clingy, but his hand will always be on your back, or he’ll pull you closer if he sees a crowd. If you’re in a long line, he’ll stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist.

Husband!Sunghoon Stubborn but soft when it comes to you. If anyone else asks him to do something, he might complain. But if you ask? He’ll sigh dramatically but do it anyway. “You owe me for this.” (He just wants more hugs.)

Husband!Sunghoon Low-key a romantic. Will randomly take you on late-night drives just to spend quiet time together. Will buy your favorite snacks just because. Will pull you in for slow dances in the living room with no music.

Husband!Sunghoon Acts cool but melts when you initiate affection. You hold his hand first? He’ll pretend it’s nothing, but his grip tightens. You kiss his cheek? He clears his throat and looks away—but his ears are red.

Husband!Sunghoon Wants to be your comfort person. If you’re sad, he won’t always know what to say, but he’ll pull you into his arms and stay with you for as long as you need. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me stay like this.”

Husband!Sunghoon No matter what, he’s yours. His words might be minimal, but his actions say everything. He may not always be vocal, but the way he looks at you—like you’re the only person in the world—tells you exactly how much he loves you.

Sunghoon may act all cool, but when it comes to you, he’s just the biggest softie.

Husband!Sunghoon is the definition of cool on the outside, hopelessly in love on the inside. He acts unbothered but secretly adores all the little things about you—whether it's watching you wear his hoodies, playing with his hair, or rambling about your day. He won’t say much, but his actions speak louder than words: warming up your food if you're late, pulling you closer in public, and always making sure you're taken care of. Though he pretends to dislike cheesy couple traditions, he’s the first to plan thoughtful surprises and steal forehead kisses when you least expect it. He gets flustered when you compliment him, secretly loves cuddling (even though he’ll never admit it), and has a soft spot for lazy Sundays spent wrapped up in you. Protective, attentive, and low-key romantic—he might act cool, but at the end of the day, his heart is completely yours.

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oopsiedaisydeer · 12 hours ago

Text

ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍʏ ᴇᴀʀ

…𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭

angst, smut (mostly descriptive), friends to lovers, unresolved, no happy ending, suggestive, making out, heartbreak, emotional manipulation, self-destructive behavior, toxic dynamics, fluff if u squint, romance, intimacy, friends with benefits, betrayal, unrequited love?, slow burn, self-sabotage

listen to the song that inspired this fic while reading!

word count - 3k

Matt has a scar on his temple. She’s always liked to run her hand over it. The first time she tried, he flinched, batted her hand away, mumbled something about personal space.

She stopped after that. Until one day, he caught her staring.

"You wanna hear a story?" he asked, grinning like he had a secret. "Got mauled by a bear once. Barely made it out."

She almost called his bluff. Almost.

Instead, she smiled, seeing it for what it was... permission. To touch him. To know him in ways he wouldn’t always say.

Maybe she loves that he never tells the truth straight. Maybe she loves that she doesn't really understand him.

Maybe she just loves him.

It was not always a thing. Her… curiousity. Affection. Desire.

When they were very little, she used to follow him and his brothers around. It was easy to. Not to mention that people liked them, because they were charming, and funny, and genuine. She stuck by Matt's side through school, feeling safe and protected under his wing like a small bird. He teased her, sure, even back then. Always sitting beside him, walking directly behind him, looking out for his reaction when she told a joke or shared a story.

Eventually, they reached that age where it was only natural for her to distance herself slightly. Things became less ritual, less assumed, and she found herself asking for permission, looking for his affirmation, seeking out his validation.

Sometime after 10th grade, she started spending the night again. Mostly in Matt’s room. He let her in. And she took what she could get. They didn’t ever cuddle or anything. Mostly Matt would talk, and she would listen. She absorbed everything, every word, every silence. The care she had for him ran so deep she felt it inside sometimes, to the rhythm of her heartbeat, spreading through her like oxygen. He asks her questions sometimes, questions that a part of her finds silly and stupid, his boyish brain not quite at her contemplative level. She forced herself not to mind. To appreciate it.

When she does talk, in those late hours, staring up at the ceiling, she can tell he’s not really listening. He’s too… wrapped up in himself. It’s not that he doesn’t care. He’s probably just stressed.

She hopes Matt cares. Maybe he does, just not as much as her. He likes the safety of the distance between them. But just enough, sure, maybe he cares.

That night, they end up in his room. He always lets her stay when the world gets too loud. Everything feels too quiet, too intimate here. It’s a comfortable space, familiar in a way that makes her want to curl up and stay forever. She rests her head against his pillow, the soft fabric of his sleeve brushing against her forehead as she stares at the ceiling.

When she wakes, they’re the closest they’ve ever been. The sunlight manages to shine directly into the corner of her eye, so she squints. And then she sees him. Feels him. He’s holding her, his arm draped over her waist, hand grazing her stomach as her back leans against him. She sees him so clearly. Pulling her toward him in the most innocent of ways.

She feels the goodness radiating off her bones and she becomes fearful. That he’s probably known all along, even when she hasn’t. That she likes him. Really, really likes him.

The heat doesn’t overcome the fear then, it doesn’t pool in her stomach until much, much later. It’s not till they’re eating cereal, all of them together, and someone is telling a story, and all she can do is watch as Matt suppresses his laughter. She can’t help but see the little boy in him, always. Nothing about him is malevolent to her. Even when he smirks, teasing or mocking her, she feels nothing but warmth.

She goes to parties, tries to find another guy, another boy to kiss to avoid even thinking of Matt like that. It doesn’t work of course.

She gives away her virginity to the boy in her math class. The one who didn’t mean any harm and therefore, doesn’t cause her any. He doesn’t make her feel good, but she holds him close to hide his face so that she can tug on the brown hair and pretend all is well.

And then one night, when she finally admits to herself that none of it is working, she allows her mind to wander. To truly contemplate, what it might be like. To be loved like that. By him.

She doesn’t drift for more than mere seconds before she finally feels the warmth return. In her mind, her thoughts recall how Matt's lips hover above her ear at parties just before he leaves her alone in the corner. She could come already, it’s pathetic.

The fantasy is shattered when she remembers him kissing another girl right after.

She’s not jealous. She doesn’t need to, doesn’t want to feel special. He lets her in and that’s enough.

She touches herself to kill the emotion, replaying the scene from an outsider’s perspective. His lips on her ear. His lips on her ear. His lips on her ear. It rewinds and distorts but it’s no matter. She’s already sticky and shameful, childlike.

She doesn’t dare to do it again, she already regrets it and can’t look him in the eye anymore. It’s almost like he knows about the sick fantasy, and he's constantly trying to catch her with his eyes like a hunter.

It’s only because of this that she pictures him beneath her. His eyes so wide and disconcerted, like a deer in headlights. Just like a baby animal, and her fear dissipates to the rhythm of her touch, pretending, praying that the emotion will die once more if she gives the fantasy just enough room to breathe.

And then one night they’re talking about love, true love. Their beliefs, hopes and truths, and she lies, she lies like she loves him and wants to protect him. Treats herself like the one in the wrong. She knows that this conversation is only happening because nothing will ever happen between them. She hopes that that's true because she can’t handle the end of her love, not in the way he can.

Sometime between their complete and utter closeness, they both find comfort in others. She still searches for Matt though, always, always, always.

Sometime between the external comfort, they find their way back to his room, his bed. And he holds her again, more and more these days and she wonders why.

And it’s sick and twisted because it happens. In his bed. His lips hovering on her ear, expressing his shallow gratitude. She can’t help it, she gasps lightly. It’s the best she can manage without taking advantage of his closeness.

Unfortunately, Matt notices it, and he whispers again.

“Do you like it baby?”, she feels his warmth breath coat her like the sun, “My mouth on your ear?”

Something shrivels up and dies inside her then, the reluctance, the pre-emptive disappointment, and she nods, squirming in his grip. “Mhm,” she whines. They fall asleep like that, cuddling like lovers as Matt whispers in her ear, sending her into a beautiful trance.

In the morning, they don’t speak of it. He’s there, a vessel of her comfort as always. Days pass, and she touches herself again, thoughts of Matt creeping in as always.

They remain who they’ve always been to the outside world. Friends. Good friends. But back in his room, as she leans against the wall his bed touches, she doesn’t feel anything like that.

He’s sitting at his desk, back to her.

“Matt,” she says, her voice quiet, but he turns around as the silence hangs in the air between them, sharp and fragile. “Do you ever think about... us?”

He looks at her, his brow furrowing slightly, and for the first time, she sees something flicker in his eyes. Uncertainty. He chuckles, but it’s not his usual carefree laugh. It’s tight, almost defensive.

“What do you mean, ‘us’?” he asks, trying to mask the tension in his voice with the ease he’s perfected over the years.

She takes a breath, the weight of her own words heavier than she expected. She knows this is risky, but it’s impossible to hold it in any longer. “I mean… us, as more than just…” She gestures between them, frustrated, unsure how to finish the sentence without sounding foolish. “More than just… how we are. What we are.”

He shifts, his posture stiffening. His hand tightens against the armrest, his jaw set. “We’ve always been like this,” he says, and there’s that familiar nonchalance, the wall he’s always built between them. “Don’t need anything else. It’s enough.”

Her chest tightens, the words falling flat even as she tries to smile. “Maybe,” she whispers, but her voice shakes. “But what about me?”

There’s a pause, a heartbeat that lingers too long in the air between them. And for the briefest moment, she swears she sees something flicker in his eyes. Something softer, something afraid.

But then it’s gone, hidden behind that same smile that’s never quite reached his eyes.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” he says, more to himself than to her, his voice a little too calm. “You know that.”

She nods, the weight of his words sinking in. She’s heard this before… just never to her. She should know better, shouldn’t she? But it feels different this time. It feels like a denial, not just of her feelings, but of something they could have shared. Maybe she’s been fooling herself all along.

“I know,” she says, her voice small, barely audible over the noise. “I know.”

It's still not over after that conversation. She’s still completely at his mercy and she can’t bring herself to walk away, to shatter. It’s like she wants him to hurt her. For it to be his fault, and not hers. She tells herself she can move on, that she can bury the feelings that have only been growing with each passing moment. She’s had enough of the games. Enough of the waiting. Even edging herself and relieving herself does little good.

It’s just not that simple.

The next few days pass in a blur. She tries to keep her distance, but something keeps drawing her back to him…like a magnetic pull she can’t escape, the years, the way he’s always been there. And then there’s a moment, late one night, when everything just cracks. They’re in his room again, the same room that’s always felt like home and a cage at the same time. She’s sitting on the edge of his bed, talking about nothing and everything, and then he’s there, too close again.

And before she even knows what’s happening, his lips are on hers.

It’s not like the kisses she’s had before, quick and careless, stolen moments that never meant anything. This one is different. This one makes her feel like she’s floating, like she’s finally found a place she’s meant to be. She’s shocked, clawing at the air for a second. Then his hand cups the side of her face, and she presses closer, her fingers gripping the back of his shirt, pulling him in.

It’s a moment that feels like everything. Like it’s all been leading to this. And for a little while, she forgets about the rules he’s laid down. She forgets about the distance he’s kept between them. She just lets herself feel it, the heat, the intensity, the way his lips move against hers like they’ve done this a thousand times before.

He groans into her mouth, and pulls away abruptly. But she’s desperate, kissing him again as they fall down onto the bed, their chests pressed against each other.

Somehow the moment is passionate, the way he undresses her, caresses her, tells her she’s beautiful. He whispers in her ear as he moves within her and she whimpers, closer and closer to the high she’s been yearning for.

His mouth trails over her chest as she arches her back away from him. He cups her breast with his warm hand, kneading it and massaging it. “I love how you respond to me, to my touch.”

He enters her slower, deeper, “I want you to feel it baby. I want you to feel good. Feel loved.” She moans at his words and looks back staring into his eyes, the innocent gaze of a friend she’s known for as long as she’s known her own name. They both come with a final rough movment from him and collapse onto each other.

It feels loving, like devotion, and when he eventually pulls out, she feels full of bliss.

He gets on his knees pulling on his shirt before glancing back at her. She pours all of her love into her post-orgasm stare. He smiles, shy, before looking back down and kneeling down to kiss her core. Slowly but surely, he overstimulates her, making out with the most private part of her, cleaning her, loving her.

She smiles, content. Empty, but newly joined. Hopeful.

But the next morning, everything is different.

He’s distant again, almost like nothing happened. His eyes avoid hers, and the silence stretches between them like an ocean, too wide to cross. He doesn’t mention the kiss. Doesn’t acknowledge what happened after.

This time, it’s different though. She knows it, and he knows it. The unspoken tension hangs in the air between them, undeniable. They don’t say the words, but there’s a shift. A silent agreement in the way he watches her when he thinks she's not looking, the way she can’t stop looking at him, even as she tries to pretend like it doesn’t matter.

Eventually, after days of this unspoken tension, Matt says something. Casual, almost teasing, like they’re joking, like nothing matters.

“You think we could do this... and whatever? A compromise?” he says, voice low but eyes still holding hers.

She knows what he means. And she knows that this isn’t the kind of thing that can be taken back. It’s an offer, a dangerous one, and she’s so close to refusing, but instead, she finds herself nodding. She’s done pretending. She’s done with the half-truths.

“I’m fine with it,” she murmurs. “Don’t need much more.”

Matt looks at her, eyes sharp. “We can make this work,” he promises, but the words are hollow. She knows that. The question hangs there between them, a fragile thread strung across a chasm of things unsaid. He knows it too. But he won't say it.

They’re tangled together in the silence that follows, a pact neither of them can take back. It’s something they’ve both tried to avoid for so long. But now, in the wake of everything they’ve built up and torn down, it feels like the only thing left to do.

The bed feels too small for both of them, a tight coil that she can't escape. She lies back, her head sinking into the pillow, the weight of the room pressing down on her. Matt’s silhouette stands over her, a shadow she can’t shake off. The space between them is thick, suffocating. She breathes in, and the air feels heavier, as though every inch she takes toward him is another step toward the inevitable.

She tells herself it’s fine, that it’s just for now, just something to fill the space between them, to fill the gaps in the way they’ve always existed. No expectations. No pressure.

But as they fall into each other again, the boundaries blur, and everything shifts. The kisses feel deeper, the touches linger longer. He holds her. He holds her. His mouth over her ear.

She’s still scared, still bracing herself for the inevitable crash, the heartbreak she knows will come when it’s over. But right now, she can’t bring herself to care.

She should feel anger, or sadness… maybe both. But instead, she feels something worse: a sick, hollow longing. It's the kind of want that gnaws at her, the kind of want that tells her that even knowing this will hurt her, she would still do it. She would still step forward. Because for the first time in too long, something feels real, even if it’s doomed..

She’s already made her bed. She might as well lie down with him.

She’s always known this would happen. She’s always known Matt would leave her wanting, never giving enough to truly stay, yet always giving just enough to keep her hooked. But now, with the decisive touches, the silence, the empty space between them, it’s different. The fear she used to feel…fear that he might hurt her, might break her heart, is gone. There’s no surprise in it anymore. There’s only a cold certainty, a sharp knowledge of how deep the hurt will run.

And somehow, she feels it before it even happens… the ache of knowing this will end badly. But there's a strange warmth in the hurt. The promise of it. A twisted comfort, like preparing for a storm you can't stop, but somehow want. The thought of it burns, and she lets it.

She knows how it will feel when it all unravels, but she can’t help the thrill that shivers up her spine. She can’t help the way her chest tightens with anticipation, knowing just how bad it will get.

She’s looking forward to the kill.

She’ll lie in this bed she made, her heart tangled in him, and she’ll let it consume her, because it’s the only thing that’s ever felt true.

creds to rose @bernardsbendystraws for the dividers!!!

+ thank u @cowboylikenat for ur feedback <3

a/n: i swore i'd never write smut yet here we are.

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @sturnshood @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart comment to be added to my main (non-au) taglist!!

till next time!!!!

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acexsmhking · 2 days ago

Note

TICCI TOBY WITH A THING FOR KNUCKLE RUBBING LORD I BEG THAT IS THE REQUEST

𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲

(𝗮𝗱𝘃.) 𝗜𝗻 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝘄𝗮𝘆

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Toby relationship knacks

note: i actually just got done with a full sobbing breakdown so this ask genuinely made me giggle i love you😭😂

Warning(s): GN!Reader, fluff nothing else<3 kinda..

No cause Anon you’re so right, like idk about anyone else but I LOVE knuckle rubs just in general and Toby 100% rubs your knuckles. All of them!!

Especially that little knuckle bone on your wrist tho I guess that’s a wrist bone.. what the difference..

But omg Toby LOVES hands; he loves holding your hand, kissing your fingers, your palms, EVERYTHING!

Toby is a very very touchy grabby feely person like 98.99% of the time. Of course he has his moments where that depression or anxiety hits all of us and he just,.. cannot handle any human interaction

But trust! He is holding your hands, thumb rubbing your knuckles, occasionally bringing your hand up to kiss.

And Toby is actually very open about PDA. Toby doesn’t really care about other people’s opinions or feelings if it isn’t you.. Tim.. Brian.. and Kate. So. Like. Ya know.

He keeps it more PG around them but 100% expect that if Toby ever does wiggle his way into town with you to go shopping he will slap your ass no care

So yeah no one is like shocked by just HOW often he kisses your knuckles. And it’s a lot

Toby pretty much is always with you, sure he heads off for house chores and maintenance and food but other that Toby is with you the whole 24HRS.

So he just… holds your hand. It’s really great actually. Toby doesn’t sweat, and he’s pretty chill not necessarily cold. So like it’s weirdly comfortable and satisfying to hold his hand

Sometimes he’ll hold your hand in his mouth if he’s doing something but still wants some body part of yours

We love the little cutie patootie

Toby 100% is the kinda guy that holds your hand when you guys have sex. I mean it, he loves it. He craves it. It’s just so.. close and intimate like those sappy old adult movies

*sobs*

Not to mention if YOU kiss his knuckles? Yeah he feels his heart tingle; back flipping, doing the tango. Toby is a very big emotion feeler. He feels rather intensely a majority of the time

Like he will break down crying holding your face telling you how much he loves you…

Me with my dog

But he is just a sucker for love. Don’t get me wrong, yes Toby has his moments, and his flaws, and lingering issues. But at the end of the day it genuinely is.. exhausting. And Toby isn’t just some emotionally stupid person he’s stupidly smart if anything lol

Especially canonically

And sometimes after eating a family of five, with your weird demon friend and masked adoptive mom you just wanna go home to your beloved and hold hands

Nothing wrong with that..

Omg going on dates Toby 100% holds your hand across the table. I don’t make the rules

(Ok sure your dates are always at home or the picnic table he built for you but it still counts)

He also LOVEEES how your hands feel, especially that soft skin one your knuckles. He had very very worked hands and just lovessss the differences in textures it itches something in his brain

Ride him, hold his hands as you bounce he will get you pregnant. Sucks if your a guy or mtf he don’t give a fuck. m!preg bitch take that

All in all. While Toby is 99.98% of the time a chaotic bundle of cannibalism, weird morals, demon possession and neurodivergence when he’s with you his only the neurodivergent and chaos LMAO

someone draw Toby kissing some hands<3

: ̗̀➛ Thank you again for this ask I have actually been so stupidly stressed today and this made me feel better. I promise Deer anon and other anon I am working on your requests too!! Just well tumblr decided not to save half the progress LMAO deer anon yours should come out tomorrow! — Ace

#creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta ticci toby #ticci toby #creepypasta #ticci toby x you #ticci toby headcanons #toby rogers

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alaia777 · 8 hours ago

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hi alaia! can i please request an angst with comfort drabble of 'you look stupid, what are you even wearing?' with baro shoei (blue lock)?

i hope you like it !

it was rare for something as simple as a dress to make you this excited, but today was different. while out shopping, you stumbled upon a baby blue dress with a big bow at the back and delicate ruffles—something you wouldn’t normally pick, but the moment you saw it, a wave of nostalgia hit you. it looked almost identical to a dress you loved as a child, just made for someone your age now. you obviously bought it.

you couldn’t wait to show it to your boyfriend tonight. the two of you had planned an at-home date, something you’d been looking forward to all week. you were going to order food from the restaurant where you had your first date, then watch the movie you saw together on your second. even though barou didn’t say much when you brought it up, you knew him well enough to tell—he was looking forward to it just as much as you were.

by the time it was close for barou to get back from practice, everything was already prepared for your date. you had gotten yourself ready, looking so much like little you—except now, your front teeth weren’t missing. the table was arranged carefully for the food, and the movie setup was ready to go. all that was left was for the food to be delivered right on time when barou got home.

you jumped out of your seat when you heard the front door open, a giddy smile on your face as you rushed to greet your boyfriend. “i was waiting for you, b—” but before you could finish your sentence, barou walked right past you, heading straight for the bedroom without sparing you a single glance. you could tell he must be frustrated from practice, and not wanting to upset him further, you decided to give him some space.

what was supposed to be a little time turned into an hour of you sitting on the couch, the food already delivered and neatly placed on the table, but still no sign of barou. you heard the sound of him getting into the shower, then the quiet shuffle of him going back into the room. yet, there was still no sign of him coming to talk to you.

you had promised yourself you’d give him space, but you couldn’t just sit here, feeling useless, knowing your boyfriend was clearly in a bad mood. you couldn’t do nothing.

you knocked on the door, waiting for a response that never came. after a moment, you pushed it open, stepping inside to find barou sitting at his desk, back turned to you, eyes fixed on his laptop.

“barou, the table is set. do you want to come eat?”

“not hungry. you can eat without me,” he said, his tone clipped.

“but i thought it would’ve been nice for us to—” you started, but before you could finish, he turned around, irritation clear on his face.

“are you deaf? i said i’m not hungry. also—” his words faltered as his gaze swept over you from head to toe, taking in your dress for the first time. he scoffed, expression unreadable. “you look stupid. what are you even wearing?”

you stared at him, stunned, the weight of his words settling in. how dare he? the comment stung more than you wanted to admit, but you refused to let it show—you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

“a dress for our inside date that’s today, you asshole,” you shot back, voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. “but on second thought, you can stay in here and enjoy your own misery, since it’s clear communication isn’t your strong suit.”

without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and slammed the door behind you, the sharp sound echoing through the apartment.

you knew you’d been harsh, but so had he. if he was going to throw words like that at you, then fine—you’d throw them right back.

but as you sat at the table, staring at the now-cold food you’d been so excited to share, the anger in your chest twisted into something heavier. the night was supposed to be special, a quiet celebration of the little things that made your relationship yours. instead, all that was left was silence.

you didn’t bother looking up when you heard the bedroom door open, still pushing your food around on the plate, the weight of his presence settling in front of you. you didn’t want to argue again—you were too tired for that.

“i’m sorry for calling your dress stupid,” barou said, his voice gruff but sincere.

“you called me stupid,” you murmured, barely above a whisper.

he went quiet for a moment, then exhaled. “and i’m sorry for that too. i had a hard day and took it out on you instead of communicating like a normal person.”

you kept your head down, unsure if you were ready to forgive him for ruining the night you’d been looking forward to all week.

“and i’d like for us to continue our date,” he added.

“the food’s already cold—” you started, finally glancing up, only to freeze mid-sentence.

barou stood there, arms crossed, wearing the shirt—the ridiculous t-shirt you’d gotten him as a joke, the very first gift you ever gave him. bright red and proudly displaying the word KING in a mickey mouse theme.

“since the food’s cold, we’re going to eat at the restaurant and then go see the movie at the cinema,” he said like it was the simplest plan in the world.

“dressed like that?” you asked, blinking.

“yes. is that a problem?”

“no,” you said, biting back a grin, “but why that shirt?”

“because since we’re redoing our first date, i want to wear the first gift you ever gave me,” he said, completely serious.

you couldn’t hold it in anymore—you laughed, loud and unrestrained, all the tension from earlier slowly unraveling with it.

you were still laughing when barou rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath, but there was no real annoyance in his expression. instead, he grabbed his keys from the counter and tilted his head toward the door.

“come on, we’re leaving.”

you wiped at your eyes, finally standing. “you’re really going out like that?”

“obviously.”

he started walking toward the door, and you followed, shaking your head but smiling. whatever frustration lingered from earlier didn’t matter anymore—not when he was willing to do something so ridiculous just to make up for it.

as he held the door open for you, you reached for his hand, giving it a small squeeze. he squeezed back.

maybe tonight wasn’t going exactly how you planned, but somehow, it was turning out even better.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock angst #bllk angst #barou shoei x reader #barou x reader

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rekino2114 · 2 days ago

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How about we do a Valentines Day prompt for Wenona~ I freaking love this woman, and I don't even know why. So let's do prompt 25:proposing on valentine's day🩷

Wenona proposing to you on valentine's day

Pairing:Wenona x gn reader

Valentine's prompt#25

Prompts list

"YOU'RE GOING TO PROPOSE TO Y/N!?"

"Shut up ya gremlin, do you want the whole school to hear?"

"It's fine I asked Diana and jett to hang out with y/n so they won't see me setting everything up"

Your girlfriend Wenona was currently talking about her proposal to toshiko, grace and desmond

"This is simply splendid news, love truly is in the air today even more than other valentine's days"

"That's great news Wenona, congratulations, but are you really sure about that? It's a big decision and we're still pretty young"

"Y/n is the person I want to marry. They've been with me ever since I had nothing and have continued to support me all these years, so yes, I am 100% sure. And age shouldn't play a factor in that, if I want to marry them now, I'm going to"

"Pfft, so cheesy"

"And that's why no one loves you"

"What did you say you soybean?"

"C-calm down Wenona, there's someone foe everyone in this world.....even for grace"

"Oi! What is that supposed to mean gremlin?"

"By the way, do you need any help with the preparation? I would be most honored to help such a wonderful couple seal their love forever"

"Thanks kid but it's fine, I already have everything prepared"

"Oh that's nice, could you tell us if you don't mind?"

"Sure, I was thinking of just doing it the classic way, I already have a reservation at their favorite restaurants and the ring prepared, I'm just going to propose after the dinner"

"Oh that's a good choice, an intimate and romantic atmosphere is key for moments like these"

"A bit too cliché if you ask me"

"Like they say, if something isn't broken then don't fix it"

"What's the ring like anyway? Can we see it?"

"And risk one of you breaking it? As if. That ring is worth more than your entire networth"

"Sure, how much can a stupid ring cost?"

"It's 24 carat gold with a 50k dollars worth diamond on the middle"

"F-fifty- the fuck! That's more than I've earned in my entire goddamn career"

"Told ya it was expensive"

"Grace, please tone down the language there's a child around. B-but wenona don't you think that's a bit.....excessive"

"If you think that's excessive, then you're not ready to hear my plans for the wedding"

"You might as well wear a dress made of banknotes while you're at it"

"Hey that's a great idea, thanks for the suggestion"

"I WAS KIDDING!"

"C-calm down everyone, while I might not know what a carat is. I know that there is no price you can put on love, so I fully respect wenona's choice"

"If you don't stop spouting those romance movies phrases I'll tore that fan of yours to shreds"

"N-not my fan!"

"Grace stop it! And Wenona thanks for telling us and I hope everything goes well for you and y/n"

"Thanks, I'm sure it will"

After saying goodbye to her classmate, Wenona went back to her dorm to set up everything, preparing the ring and putting on one of her best dresses. When you came back she told you about her plans and that it was going to be a simple date for Valentine's Day so you agreed quickly and got dressed to go to the restaurant.

The dinner was amazing with Wenona complimenting you every chance she got and telling you how much she loved you basically every minute, you were a bit surprised as she wasn't this loving often, sure she complimented you a lot but this time it seemed different, but you still ignored the feeling and simply continued eating with her.

You finished your last glass of golden champagne and told your girlfriend you wanted to finishe dinner, she simply smiled and said that she had to do something first

"What is it?"

"This"

She suddenly got on one knee, and before you could even react, she pulled out a velvet box out of her pocket and opened it to reveal the most beautiful (and expensive) ring you had ever seen

"Y/n in the time we've been together I have loved you like I love no one else, I know you're with me because of me and not my money or some other dumb reason and so I want to spend the rest of my life with you simple as that, I promise to take care of you and love you forever and all of the rest, I think you can wait for the vows for the entire speech right? Anyway what do you say, will you marry me?"

"A-are you serious?"

"Do you think I would have brought a ring like this for a joke?"

"S-sorry it's just.....really? You want to marry me?"

"Why wouldn't I? You're the whole package, sweet, cute, and smart, I'd be an idiot to not take the opportunity. You still didn't answer me, by the way, even if I probably already know what the answer"

"Yes, yes of course I'll marry you"

"That's what I wanted to hear, now come here"

You got closer to her and she put the ring on your finger, you admired it for a while before you were surprised by Wenona kissing your lips.

The kiss went on for a while, and when you pulled back she started at you with a loving look in her eyes

"I love you my future wife"

"I love you too y/n"

#project eden's garden x reader #project eden's garden #p:eg x reader #p:eg #wenona x reader #wenona #wenona project eden's garden #wenona p:eg #x reader #wenona project eden's garden x reader #wenona p:eg x reader #project eden's garden wenona #gn reader

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hamiltonfc · 2 days ago

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆⭒˚｡⋆ MOTH TO A FLAME; JUDE BELLINGHAM (Chapter Two)

➤ Summary: Surprisingly, Jude and Noah seem to be getting on well, until Noah does something to get in Kaia's bad book.

➤ Pairing: Jude Bellingham x F!OC

➤ Warnings: Swearing, Food mention.

➤ Discussion tag: #my works: moth to a flame (if you ever have any questions about the story, release schedule, etc. my inbox is always open.)

➤ Word Count: 3,171

TAGLIST | SERIES PLAYLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Kaia’s POV

“And this is Jude. My best friend.” Silence hangs in the air for a short while after the introductions. My stomach is tied in a knot while I watch Jude take in my new boyfriend. If it were a stranger perceiving Jude, they’d probably say he’s happy to meet him and that he’s happy for his friend. But I’m not a stranger. His body language, the slight strain in his jaw from the way he’s gritting his teeth and the way his eyes quickly flash to mine tells me everything I need to know.

Jude extends his hand in Noah’s direction. “Hey,” he says while Noah’s hand also leaves the side of his body, grasping Jude’s. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Noah says, quieter than how Jude said it, nerves an obvious thing he’s feeling. The last time Noah came over, and met my family, I knew he had been really nervous, and rightly so because he knows how much my family means to me. But, when it comes to Jude, I had spoken about him so much, about how we had known each other our whole lives, grown up together. Noah knew that Jude meant just as much to me as my family did. However, there was something else about Jude that didn’t threaten Noah, I don’t think (it had threatened other guys in the past), but there was the small fact of Jude being the man in my life. Jude was Noah’s competition, even though I’d told him he had nothing to worry about in the romantic department, and he believed me, Jude’s status in my life was something for Noah, or any other person who wanted to be with me forever, to reach for.

“Oh, hi, Noah,” my mum walks into the room, carrying two plates of food. “Right, these two are for you,” she nods her head at me and Noah so I promptly take my seat across from Jude, as Noah moves to sit right beside me. “Jude, William will be in in a second with your dinner. He’s currently making sure you both get a couple of extra Yorkshire puddings,” Mum flashes Jude a smile. If there was one thing my dad and Jude had in common it was how much they loved my mum’s Yorkshire puddings. Actually, I’m convinced they are the reason my dad decided to marry my mum in the first place.

“You know me so well,” Jude says and it’s then that I see Jude’s first genuine smile since Noah walked through the door. But it’s no surprise because Jude has always been like another son to my mum, he always has a smile for her.

****

“So, Jude,” Dad says when we’re all finally seated and eating. “Are you enjoying it in Madrid?”

“Yeah,” Jude brings his hand up to cover his mouth, pausing his speech while he finishes his food. “It’s great, barely any rain, and the football’s obviously amazing.”

“You know,” it’s my turn to speak now. “These two,” I wave my fork between my parents. “Literally never shut up talking about you. “Like God, forbid we ever see someone we know when they’re out in town because they’ll get a good old rant about how well you’re doing and how proud they are of you. No, but, honestly, I’m starting to think they’re prouder of you than they are of me,” I let out a laugh, everything I said in jest.

“Oh, don’t be silly. But, of course, we’re proud of you, Jude, you know you’re a part of this family,” Mum says. It had always been inevitable that Jude would be part of our family. My mum had been best friends with Jude’s mum, Denise, for years before they even considered having children. So when they did eventually have kids, they became like bonus children for both of them.

I felt, though, when Mum mentioned that Jude was a part of our family, an awkwardness coming from beside me in Noah’s chair. And although I knew Jude appreciated the comment, and knew that he loved my family just as much as they loved him, I could also tell that he was sensing the same thing I was when I caught his eye.

“So, uhm, Noah,” Jude said, clearing his throat, right before taking a sip of his drink, his attention shifting to the man next to you. “How long are you in England for?”

“Oh, erm, I fly back tomorrow,” Noah nodded, shooting a tight-lipped smile Jude’s way.

Jude nods. “So, did you like working with our Kai, then?”

“Kai?” Noah furrows his brow, turning towards me and tilting his head to the side in question.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “He’s always been the only one to call me that.” I shrug. My whole life everyone had just opted to use my full name, apart from Jude, who had insisted on calling me Kai pretty much since the moment he could talk. “It annoys me when anyone else calls me that.”

“Oh,” Noah squints his eyes, puzzled, but turns back to just nonetheless. “But to answer your question, Jude, it was great working with her.”

“Look at that,” Jude points a Noah, but shifts his gaze back to me. “You come with rave reviews and everything.”

I laugh, but Noah’s the one to speak. “I feel like everything I saw about her before we worked together was a rave review, you don’t get called one of the best actors of our generation without doing anything great, do you?”

“Well, I could give her a few reviews just based on her personality, and, let me tell you, not many of them are that great,” Jude smirks are you, bringing his arms up to his chest when I reach over the table to smack him.

“Oi, watch it,” I can’t help but smile at the pair of them as I slump back in my chair. Watching the two of them interact settled my nerves a little. It was almost a given that anyone I invited into my life had to like Jude. Whether it was a boyfriend or a new friend, my loyalty would always be to Jude over anyone, probably until the day that I got married, so it was better to just make sure that they liked him. Why would I want to know someone who disliked my best friend, someone I’d loved my whole life, anyway?

While Jude and Noah got to talking about everything acting and Jude’s football career, I chose to speak to my parents about my next job, which was starting in February, and my summer plans that would follow. Jude overheard the last part of my conversation, “Are you coming to the Euros? You’ll have wrapped by then, yeah?”

This year’s Euros would be Jude’s third international tournament, and seeing as though I had proudly supported him at the last two, I didn’t see why I wouldn’t be going to this one, too.

“Well, that depends,” I placed my knife and fork together on my plate, signifying that I was done. “Are you going to get me free tickets?” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“I’ve already added your name to the family and friends list for tickets, don’t you worry,” Jude tried to wink at me but instead ended up doing a confused blink, to which I let out a giggle. “I can also get tickets for you four as well,” Jude nods towards the rest of my family. “You won’t be in the friends and family section, but I can see what I can do.”

“Thank you for the offer, Jude, darling, but me and Will won’t be able to get any time off work, and these two will still be in school. But we’ll be cheering you on from our living room, there’s no doubt about that. And depending on how well we’re doing, we might book some time off for the final, just in case,” Mum winks at him before pressing a kiss to his temple after she’s gotten up to collect everyone’s plates.

“Don’t listen to her, Jude,” Olivia spoke for the first time since we sat at the table. “I want a ticket to every game, and I mean every single game. I’d do anything to miss a month of school.”

“Don’t be silly, Olivia, you’ve got your GCSEs,” Dad looks up from his phone where he’s most likely scrolling through Twitter looking at Sky Sports News or something in that vein.

“That’s exactly why I want to go, Dad. So Jude, can you get me tickets?” She turns her body fully towards him, exaggeratedly fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“You know, Liv, as much as I’d like you there, you really should listen to your dad. Even I had to do my GCSEs,” Jude tells her.

Olivia scoffs, stands from her chair, and in doing so nearly knocks the thing over. “God, why’s it only Kaia that ever gets to do fun things?”

She’s halfway up to her room before I get to properly reply but it doesn’t stop me from calling her a sore loser. “Perks of being your biggest fan, I guess,” I shrug at Jude, a small smirk on my lips. “Oh, hey, speaking of the Euros, it completely slipped my mind that you’re working in Germany at the same time, aren’t you, Noah?” I turn to look at him.

“Oh, yeah, I’m shooting that show in Berlin,” Noah nods.

“So you’ll be able to go to a few games, then?” My dad looks up from his phone, dragged out of his trance and into the conversation.

“Maybe,” Noah says. “Not sure how much free time I’ll have, but hopefully I’ll be able to get to a couple.”

“If Kaia has anything to do with it, you’ll be going to every single one that’s played in Berlin,” Noah laughs, nodding as he admits defeat, knowing my father is very much correct. It’s a habit of mine to drag people to football matches, even if they’re not the slightest bit interested.

While my dad and Noah talk some more about his job in Berlin, I notice Jude shuffling around in his seat out of the corner of my eye. I could just take it as him being uncomfortable after being sat down for almost an hour, but the way he’s looking at my dad and Noah through his lashes, his chin practically against his chest, tells me otherwise.

“Right, why don’t you kids go hang out upstairs or something while I help clean up this mess?” Dad moves to grab the remaining glasses that are left on the table while Jude, Noah and I get up to go upstairs.

When in my bedroom, Jude immediately goes to sit at my desk, and I can tell that he’s preparing himself for a potentially awkward situation. His hand rests on the wooden surface, tapping away and I know it’s only a matter of time before he pulls a pen out of the pot so he can fiddle with it.

I go to flop on my bed, grabbing my childhood teddy that I bring up to rest on my chest. Noah claims his spot beside me, in a much more graceful manner.

“So,” I say, breaking the silence before it could take over the room. “You wanna watch a film or something?” I look between the two guys in my room, a questioning look on my face.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Jude says. “How about w-”

“Stop right there,” I say, sitting up abruptly. “Before you even ask, no I’m not sitting through Pulp Fiction again. Like yeah, Uma Thurman’s hot as fuck, but she’s also only in it for like ten minutes, so what’s the point?”

“Whoah, I wasn’t even about to say that, dickhead,” Jude annoyingly shakes his head at me while he tosses a rubber in my direction, narrowly missing my head. “I was actually going to suggest that Noah picked what we watched, so, you know, it could save the arguing, and then you started yelling at me anyway.”

“Oh, okay, good idea,” I turn towards Noah. “Is there anything you’d like to watch, Noah?”

“Hmm, that’s a hard choice,” Noah says, a deep-thinking expression on his face. “I think I’d like to watch Pulp Fiction.”

Jude burst out laughing and I feel my face drop in agony at the thought of watching it again. I’m genuinely about two seconds away from punching my boyfriend right across the face.

“Oh, Kai, you should see your face. Nice one, Noah,” Jude’s holding his stomach at this point.

“What?” Noah says when Jude calms himself down. “I’ve never seen it.”

That’s the moment both Jude and I stop what we’re doing, turning to face Noah with, what I can only imagine are, the most shocked expressions the two of us could muster.

I let out a laugh of disbelief before finding the words. “You what?”

“Did I hear you right?” Jude pipes up as well.

I’ve never seen Pulp Fiction,” Noah repeats, causing me to lay back down, simply staring at the ceiling while I try and get over my shock.

“An actor who’s never seen Pulp Fiction, well I never.” I raise a finger in the air when I’ve had about ten seconds to process the mindblowing news. “You know what I think we have to do, Jude?” I sit up on my elbows so I can look at him properly. “Pop his Pulp Fiction cherry.”

Jude nods as soon as the suggestion leaves my mouth. “It’s only right.”

“Pulp Fiction it is then,” I’m just about to get up from my bed to grab the DVD, when the door of my bedroom bursts open, with a boisterous seven-year-old on the other side.

Leo immediately rushes over to the side of the bed Noah is at. “Hi, Noah, would you like to come and play Roblox with me?”

The look on Leo’s face is adorable. His big, brown eyes look at my boyfriend with so much adoration, even though he’s only met him once before. But Noah doesn’t seem to like Leo as much as the young boy likes him.

“Oh, I- uhm,” Noah, fidgets, barely making eye contact with him, while I watch on with furrowed brows. “I don’t know how.”

“Well, that’s fine, I can teach you,” Leo bounces in excitement on the balls of his feet. There’s nothing in the world that makes him happier than when he’s playing Roblox.

“Well, I don’t really want to,” Noah says bluntly, leading to Leo’s face dropping, a little pout forming on his lips.

“Oh, okay,” Leo says sadly and I can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s getting choked up.

He’s about the leave the room when Jude stands up and walks over to him. Getting on one knee in front of him, he places his hands on the small boy’s shoulders. “Hey, I’ll come and play with you, yeah? we can play that one we were playing last time that you kept beating me at.” Jude picks Leo up, throwing him over his shoulder, causing him to giggle louder than ever. It’s a giggle that can be heard all the way down the hall until they get to Leo’s bedroom.

My room is silent for a while, allowing me quite a bit of time to think about what I just witnessed. The only thing I can think about, though, is that I didn’t say or do anything while Leo was in the room with me. I should’ve done something to make sure he didn’t get upset, not even a little bit.

After a little more time, I say, “What the fuck was that?” I turn to Noah, who has barely moved since Jude and Leo left the room.

“I don’t know, he says, eyes failing to meet mine.

“That’s not good enough, Noah, you almost made him cry because you didn’t want to play with him. He’d be really upset if it wasn’t for Jude being here,” I let out a sigh. It was bad enough thinking about seeing either of my siblings upset but seeing Leo’s face for that short moment that he thought no one wanted to play with him was heartbreaking.

“I’m not good with kids, okay?” I have no idea what to do with them,” Noah says, raising his voice a little.

“Then just let him down easily, then, there was no need to be rude. He’s seven, Noah. He only wanted to play with you, you’re never going to get good with kids if you’re never willing to spend even ten minutes with one,” I scowl at him, mad with him for what he did to my little brother. “You know, it’s probably better if we call it a night, I’m quite tired.”

Noah nods. “Okay,” he gets up from the bed. “I’ll see you after Christmas, I suppose,” he leans down to press a kiss to my lips, which I accept, kissing back gently, but he knows that I’m still pissed off at him and that I’m probably going to be like that for a while longer. I shift my body to get off the bed. “It’s fine, I’ll let myself out.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Night. Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” he says, closing the door behind him on his way out.

I fall back onto the bed, once again finding peace against my duvet, a sigh falling from my lips being the last thing I remember before I slip into a deep sleep.

****

Jude: You okay Sleeping Beauty?

Kaia: God when did I fall asleep? Kaia: Also why are you still up? It’s 3am.

Jude: About 7:30ish. Jude: And I’m not tired but I also wanted to make sure you were okay.

Kaia: I’m doing fine. Kaia: Just shocked me a little that’s all. Kaia: Was Leo okay when you were playing with him?

Jude: Yeah but he did ask why Noah didn’t want to play with him so I just told him that he knew I wanted to play with him instead. Jude: But what he did was really fucked up.

Kaia: I know. Kaia: I'm glad he’s not really upset about it though. Kaia: And thank you for saying what you did. I think I’m still going to take him out for ice cream or something tomorrow tho just to make sure he’s okay.

Jude: No problem and yeah that’ll be good for him. Jude: So did he just leave?

Kaia: no I said it’d probably be best if we called it a night. Kaia: I made it clear that I was pissed at him so that’s why I think he was so fine with leaving early.

Jude: You did the right thing he can’t talk to a kid like that without knowing that he did was wrong. Jude: Anyway I’m off to bed. See you on Christmas day. x

Kaia: Yep, goodnight. x

Taglist: @eunoiasgoal @4evermyownmuse

If you would like to support my work make sure to like and reblog this post, and if you're able, consider buying me a pastry! (I also take writing commissions if anyone would like one).

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham fanfic #jb5 #jude bellingham x oc #jude victor william bellingham #hamiltonfc.writes #my works: moth to a flame

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haveihitanerve · 24 hours ago

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youtube

Le Ingredients: Papa needs to calm- Papa needs- papa-oy..

Hope you enjoy this insanity as much as I did! Lets go!:

“Should we just start off with ingredients?” I love it soo so so much when they turn to each other and ask, because usually the person who introduces the idea of the long form just has final say because they’re the ones talking(and they know each other well enough at this point to know which titles would make a good story for them/the others to develop) but i still love seeing them actually ask its so cute

“Thats how you start a recipe lets do it!” Damn Sam, thats so smooth. I forget sometimes this is their job lol

“Damn hes good.” lol exactly!

“All i need from you to get us started is- is some forced applause okay?” LMAOO TOM

“Thats why I married you.” AJ: *blinks. Pause. Ok sam. ok.* LMAOOO he did not see that coming

“I love you so much.” Lunges for Sam and kisses him so well he has to take a moment to recover is crazzyyyy XD

“Papa gets stressed.” Grins because he knows- he fucking knowss what he’s doing

“Papa needs to calm down.” Now Sam is in on it, even coming up behind ooohhh this is not how quickly i expected this to go-no complaints tho

“Papa needa calm- papa-oy-” Oh AJ did not expect Sam to go along lmaooo its too much for him

“I gave the 4-5 to.. James.. And *searches mind palace for another name* Tiffany.” XD

“ITALY!!!” *goes for a high five, gives Sam .2 seconds to reciprocate and gives up* “OkaY!!...”

“I love you.” “i love you too.” SAM FUCKING WINKS FUCKING WHAT. oh my gods… im going insane wow ok…

(also the absolutely no reaction from AJ, just a slight smile is killing me he was completely prepared for Sam to wink and acted like it happens on the daily and oh my gods)

*gasps dramatically* is Aj calling a side chick rn? No Aj! Bad AJ! Please give us a happy relationship…

Sam answering the phone XD

“She is gone is she? Where?” “I think to the toilet.” AJ… “is that what she said?” Sam is flabbergasted as to how AJ already forgot XD

Oh no, ok so AJ is planning something, what no one knows, not even him, but hes not cheating on his wife so we’re all good

“You need to bet in the papers.” “Did you say bet in the papers?” “No i said get in the papers.” mhm… sure Sam. sure. Also, thanks for giving us an actual plot of what aj is attempting to do???

AJ hanging up and then resuming his excellent stage craft of making food while waiting for either someone to join him or to end the scene- his little smile is so cute because he cant do anything unless someone else joins him XD

Sam just fucking screeching and AJ’s little jolt of surprise

[continuous cries of pain and choking for a disturbingly long time]

Tom sitting right next to Sam just :D watching to see what AJ’ll do next without bothering to move to help either one at all XD

AJ slowly breaking, a small smile, little flinch when Sam screams renewed, and shoulders shaking, while Tom props his arm up, classic Tom pose with his fingers over his mouth as he watches, they're so cute

*he is still going btw*

“HOT HOT! HOT! HOOOOOOTTT!” oh so he has words now, nice

[renewed cries of pain and??? drowning???]

[that also go on for a very long time and then eventually, slooowwwwlllllyyyyy die down]

Tom breaking and looking at Sam like “you good? You about done now?” 🫠😭

AJ taking a breath because its finally done

Sam: AUGH!! AJ: *pulls out a shotgun and fucking shoots him*

Sam himself finally ending the scene wth XD

Tom standing up resignedly as AJ finally gets to laugh off stage about Sam being weird

“Morning chief.” Tom did not want that to be his character, as we can tell by his little sigh and AJ’s/Sam’s laughter at him. “Good morning.” why does he sound russian/like a vampire

“Any weird crimes happen yesterday?” Tom does his classic “ehhhhh.” nod. Love love love

“I've been up all night, its-” “what exactly happened?” AJ and Sam having shit eating grins because they made everything happen and are now forcing Tom to come up with the actual concrete details of the plot because they’re little shits like that XD

“I've only had time to watch it three times, it kept going y'know?” Shade thrown Sam’s way, very nicely done, and still being very obscure because he doesn't wanna build the plot lmaooo

“You know… you know octopuses?” Tom w h a t. Sam’s confused chuckle before he covers it because Tom. w h a t.

“My story is always straight.👹” turns demonic for a second. Sam:... ok weird thing to say…

“So they serve octopus, paeiella.” …what. “Sorry?” Even Sam is knocked off guard.

“Its a spanish dish.” “yeah.” Sam got that part. “Paella?” He knows what its called. “Octo- Let me finish why are you interrupting?” yes, act offended, perfect

“Shut your tiny mouth down.” even weirder thing to say but i dig it, keep going

“And thats not very nice, you know Im very insecure about the size of my mouth.” lmaooo Sam making it personal

“Its a small mouth are we meant to pretend?” Tom is not gonna let anything go, got it. “Meant to pretend its a normal sized mouth?”

“okay come on lets move on.” Sam attempting to move the plot along

“Its dainty.” Tom not letting that happen “we like it, but its dainty.” Aj just grinning from off stage because he doesn't have to worry about plot or saying words properly

“So theres this octopus, and its in the paeilia.” (autocorrect tried to spell it correctly, but no, this is how tom spells it so this is how we spell it)

Sam folding, Aj laughing, and Tom being confused and defensive, amazing

“Cant pronounce that word, can you?” XD poor tom…

“PAIEALLLA!!!” Yes Tom, saying it louder means you are correct

“Paella.” That, strangely enough, autocorrect didn't want to change… suspicious

“Nooooo….” tom XD help-

“Im saying it the italiano way.” “oh I see. Wrong.” DAMN SAM!!! DAMN XD

“Anyway, octopus paella-” “octopus paeylla.” Tom- Aj loosing it on the side and Sam having to lean away, folding again. LMAOOO as Tom just stands there, like “what?” XD

“You sound like every time you say it, like you're having a mini stroke.” Sam will not let this go- also i've seen clips of this scene before and wow it goes on much longer than i believed lmaooo

AJ trying to recover and loosing it again when Sam says “mini stroke’ bending over fully and smacking his leg, amazing

“I will.. Get someone else.” now thats a threat. I think he means just in general, replacing Sam with a new improv group XD

“The other can do this just as well.” Aj your position off stage and not in the scene is being threatened.

“What- you've just drawn an octopus so far. How does that *breaks, finally and laughs* help? I don't need pictograms *AJ cackling as he folds again, Sam trying to recover but failing* its not fucking ancient egypt.” this is glorious how did Tom manage to turn the tides on sam when its not even fucking real what hes doing LMAOOO XD

“Octopus- *disgruntled and aggressive glare at sam* paella.” Sam: *cheeky shit smirks and hold up a finger*-better!

“I work so hard.” we see you tom, we know, keep up the good work.

“Octopus paeialla” he was so close!

“An octopus dish.” they have taken all the wind from his sails lmaooo

“Yum this delicious.. dish.” poor baby XD

“I got to the big deal and you're just cutting off me!!!!!!” tom, where are these english degrees thats not proper word positioning in a sentence tsk tsk lol

“Were going back to the start!” Angry tom. “Octopus paeilla.” hes given up on all of them XD

“By the paella or by the octopus?” sam knew what he was trying to say and is just making life hard at this point XD and we love him for it

“AHHHHHH!” tom is ready to strangle him XD

*long winded explanation that periodically is interrupted by Tom *wiggle arms* and Aj laughing* and the woman is dead. Well that wrapped up nicely…

“Si.” “Si?” “... yes.” Sam is just fucking with him now XD “Si. Yes.” *Tom is going insane* “what?” his little arm flaps at Sam hes so confused and concerned XD

Meanwhile AJ: *loosing it offstage*

“Why are you questioning me?” I love the way he suddenly inhaled helium and is eight octaves higher, adore

“I think, open and shut case.” “octopus breaks into restaurant, *Aj’s giggle* hides into a paella, *deep breath* and then strangles *Tom: paeilla* (tom baby no) a woman.” “Si. ANd fire.” yes, yes Sam, don't forget the fire.

“Maybe the octopus did it, i don't fucking know.” Sam is just done lmaoo

“Dina, dina come in.” AJ’s nod at Sam that ‘yes, you are dina, my wife, come here’ and Tom being extra “ill leave.”

“Really?” Sam is shocked lmaooo, so much so he forgets his accent XD

“Why are the italians so fucking mental.” lmaooo- Translation: why are you two idiots so fucking mental, cant we have a normal fucking skit for once

“Its- is terrible.” Brilliant acting Aj, 10/10, everyone believes that you think its terrible

“Babi-” did he forget the name or is this his italian pet name for his wife?

AJ’s smile and his correction- “dina” reveals the first(or its his weird italian way of saying “babe” or smth but nobody got it so he had to clarify lol)

“You only call me Babi when you're lying.”

“This is your restaurant.” “yes?” aj is unaware how this is relevant. “This is so far very much within your wheelhouse.” LMAOOO

Aj’s hand still on Sam’s shoulder🫠

“Where would I find an octopus-” “you're a chef! Its one of the ingredients-!” Sam is loosing it XD

“But where would I find an octopus that has the ability to strangle someone and set itself on fire. *starts grinning* its so stupid.” It is indeed, and we love it

“I know about your circus past.” DAMN! The way AJ’s smile dropped so fast is incredible holy shit

“Don't you ever-” Both Sam and AJ break with laughter because honestly, what is this storyline XD

“The english mafia.” AJ fighting a smile🫠😭

*pulls out his actual, genuine iphone* look at this, Starling Bank *grins* What number does it say, from last nights revenue. Say it out loud.” AJ forcing Sam to create this, beautiful XD

Sam actually doing something on AJ’s phone lol, so sweet

“Two-” “two million euros.” Said in unison while grinning at each other- ill be right back let me just go cry in the corner-

Tom: *stands, ready to join the scene* Sam: the octopus! Tom: *look of disappointment and annoyance the way only good friends can convey with a single look*

All three of them laughing at the joke together im gonna cry theyre so cute

Tom’s head tilt- sobbing🫠

“No stop it!” Aj has to step in to defend him XD

Sam still losing it at his own joke while Tom just stares at him, done

“Let him be the character he wanted to be!” AJ!!! help- XD

“Do you have something to mention on the octopus. *voice shaking with laughter* whoever you may be.” Tom: *just starts fucking honking????* XD LMAOO

“Me and my comically large feet.” Puts foot up on chair where AJ’s hand was a second ago, moves it away before he places it because he saw it coming. Almost loses his balance- Sams hand snaps up and stabilizes him as Aj grabs the chair and his foot😭*sobs in the corner in i want their friendship*

THE WAY SAMS PHONE TURNS OFF RIGHT AS TOM SNAPS IS INSANEE

“Is he a clown or magician?” Tom: *eyes light up in idea* both! *fwish* flowers? Tom stop being sweet to AJ’s wife, this isn't a cheating story.. Also- the true magic is that hes wearing short sleeves, so he pulled the flowers out of his wrists…

“Its a bird!” thank you for sharing Tom XD

The way they're all standing in like a triangle just periodically smiling at each other when they’re not the ones actively participating in the scene is too cute

“They have magicians at the circus right?” Noooot… really, but now really isn't the time to ask, that would have been like… a few seconds ago lol

Sam and AJ laughing, Sam releasing air like a balloon while AJ just chuckles, staring at tom incredulously like “you're asking this now??” and Tom just smiles and goes “yeahh.” and i love that for all of them

“This marriage is over!” NOOOO “No!” Sam: :) Si. LMAOO

“Remember,” Aj dropping a few inches in height just so Tom seems even taller is crazy mental and i love him for it

“The big top always comes out.. On top.” AJ’s surprised burst of a laugh is everything to me, including his little victorian hand over the mouth

Tom backing up while making clown honk noises and AJ tries desperately not to laugh

“Its like seven in the afternoon.” Tom: *really?* seven in the afternoon? Thats why!

“Im sorry, I’ve been up all night with duolingo trying to learn spanish words,*sam’s slow growing joy as the sentence progresses, AJ’s laugh in the back* apparently my pronunciation is terrible.” LMAOO Tom never change XD

Tom ever so casually just shutting the door in Sam’s face as he starts to ramble is a power move and also crazy

“I thought we could do this bit off stage because its really just… *flaps arms tiredly* they already know.” Sam laughs and does, in fact, end the scene lol

“Dmitri!” Tom: *speaks Russian gibberish back* AJ: *pauses, did not expect that, has to smile* don't speak russian! Fuckin- *cant think of something not xenophobic to say*-do it now!

“I have a successful restaurant-” Tom comes fucking floating in like hes the Ghost of Somerset past or smth weird like that..

AJ: *bamboozled but keeps talking, glancing at Tom like ‘what do you want now’* they're all so tired and done with each other its absolutely amazing

Tom weirdly hugging Aj… its just cute even if its weird…anyway…

“My name is.. Uh…” AJ not sure if hes been given a name, if he has a name, if he can come up with a name, or if waiters even introduce themselves. They don't, especially not if hes just serving food and not there to just grab orders, but he’s realizing that slowly XD

“I wanted some of your… paillllaa.” Tom, just… keep trying bud, you're doing great. Sam’s laugh off stage is amazing too

“You are under arrest.” AJ’s smile of ‘wow okay already? We moved fast tom, but ok..” “on suspicion of octopus” Tom, never change XD

“And we will kill no more women in here.” Sam and AJ having a stare down while Tom does a fourth wall break, iconic as always

“Everybody hear that? So, if any of you were thinking of doing a murder, n- you cant!” and thats- thats final!!! So says Tom! lmaooo

“I've got one last ingredient for you” *does stagecraft of taking off a ring, but maybe thats not obvious enough* “my wedding ring.” Tom: *nope we cant have that* thats actually contraband… so..

All of them cracking at Tom’s last joke

Also the way Tom was still cradling AJ’s hands… 😭

AND SCENE

ANyway this was absolutely delightful, loved the delightful arguing, the... i dont wanna say eye-fucking because they weren't doing that, maybe eye-shitting-on-each-other?? anyways it was amazing as always, they're too fucking cute and I love

This is also one of the first skits I've seen where AJ is equally as done with Sam and Tom as they are with him, and its delightful lmaoo

@dawn-speckled thank you for the rec! @snek-of-eden

#shoot from the hip #sfth #tom mayo #sam russell #alexander jeremy #luke manning #besties #platonic soulmates #shootimpro #Youtube

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s0m3b0dy2u · 2 days ago

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"but roman..."

"why didnt you script youre immune to hate" / "why did you literally script haters into your dr???"

three words: because it's funny.

I scripted that hate doesn't bother me, and that i think it's funny. also, im very petty and i cant do dumb shit just to spite the haters if there are no haters. i did script that my friends dont get any/get very little hate. for example, people only think good things about theo because he literally posts the most gorgeous photographs, shes amazing at their job, and hes just the kindest person to literally everyone they meet. nico has haters in the way any loud and obnoxious youtuber will but theyre very few and far between and he also finds them funny, but in a slightly different way then i do. felix's legitimate work is amazing, and theres so little room for criticism to begin with, and most of his shitty takes are on tumblr, so hes safe. venus gets the same kind of hate anyone that makes the kind of music she does will, also largely angry christians like i have in my hatebase. she, of course, is the best at handling hate out of any of us. shes absolutely brutal. shes also the first to clap back if any of her friends get any hate to begin with. of course, she has the largest fanbase out of all of us so... yk how that goes, im sure. she also like... thrives off of drama.

also, i've litterally written whole critical articles about myself, if anyone wants to read them

Blasphemy Disguised as Art: The Dangerous Message of Empire’s 666

Style Over Substance? The Fall of Rome’s Theatrics

etc.

the first one is my favorite (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

lets talk about 666

the only reason the ep (or even me in general) blew up as hard as it did is because of christian supremacists.

!! i dont hate christians or christianity, and i do not intend to mock the religion itself !! 666 is about my own personal struggles with religion !! also, the christians im talking about here are the kind that hardly live like christians--the ones that dont live and lead with kindness, but instead anger, and the kind that would condemn you to hell if they saw you walking down the street holding hands with someone of the same sex because "its a sin." the bible says we, as humans, are in no right to judge one another, etc. etc. etc. the reason i didnt script people like this out in this dr is because theyve greatly helped shape the person i am today--for better or for worse. (i feel the need to mention, now, i did script out homophobia, transphobia, and other forms of discrimination) !!

these people, maybe they saw the album cover, read the lyrics, or even just read the album and song titles, whatever it was they got so pissed. most of them havent seen anything else about me, and just jumped to the "hes encouraging devil worship" "he thinks hes better than God" etc etc etc. this lead more and more people to seeing my stuff and so... yeah

also the people that are like "EMPIREs too theatric" "romes too dramatic" like... no shit?? thats my whole thing?? idk what to tell you. my fans eat it tf uppppp too.

the people that are like "mmm maybe try making happy music now?? :/" piss me off tho like no???? my whole thing is doom and gloom. i am death incarnate, im fuckin--IM A VAMPIRE OK IM SUPPOSED TO BE VAMPIRIC ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა /silly

also theres nothing funnier than tiktok comments like "you need jesus" and "go read the bible" pllssss what????? (╥﹏╥) lmaoooo

and like keep hating, all youre doing is making me more famous??? idk like....

i also love ironic haters

like yes, lets pretend we hate each others guts while were sitting in a cozy lil cafe tg

lets say we hate each others music and then drop a collab not even a week later

૮꒰˶> ᴗ <˶꒱ა

uhhhh rant over

if youre still here, how was your day/morning? remember to take care of yourselves, drink some water, eat something--even if it's just a little bit--and take a break if you need to. i love you all <3 have a nice day/night

#desired reality #rant post #ranting #musician dr #reality shifting #shiftblr #anti shifters dni #shifting community #shifters #shiftingrealities #reality shifting community #reality shift #shifting antis dni #shift #shifting blog #shifting script #shifting reality #shifting realities #desired realities

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rederiswrites · 2 days ago

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[read it on AO3]

It had been a week since they’d found D’Meta’s Crossing. A terrible, helpless week, in which they’d turned up no new leads, no next steps. No way to fight back against the vastness of this cruelty and destruction. A horrible emptiness and fatigue had crept into Arden’s every waking moment.

“I don’t know, Varric,” he said. “I just don’t–how can something so cruel exist? Why would any thinking creature do this?”

There was a moment of silence as Varric shifted in his cot, trying to sit up more. Arden got up quickly, arranging the pillows behind him, until Varric settled back with a nod of thanks.

“You know, I like to pretend I have a knack for words, but that’s one I can’t explain. People do a lot of evil. Sometimes they’re just so tangled up in their own hurts, they think they’re just protecting themselves. But this? I think this is something different.” Varric stopped, scratching his chin where the stubble was getting thick. “Solas said they were Blighted. Well, that’s like Corypheus. Like Meredith, at the end, given what we know about red lyrium. I think they were always cruel people. But the Blight made everything so much worse. And if that’s true–Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, they’ve been Blighted for thousands of years.”

On the floor next to Varric's cot, Arden put his head in his hands, pressing his palms against his eyes. He leaned into his hands hard, trying to gain an inch to think. Maker, why couldn’t he just think?

“I feel so…bad!” he finally burst out. “Varric, why do I feel so bad? What’s wrong with me? I can’t sleep, and I can’t wake up. I ache! And there’s this…this burning in my chest, and it just won’t go away. It’s like I could swallow it down but I can’t.” For a second, he felt himself shake, as if he were about to cry, but as always these past days, no tears came. “Am I Blighted? How would I know?”

“No,” said Varric. “No, I don’t think that’s it. Rook, you ever lost someone? Someone close?”

Arden looked up, confused. “I mean, my grandmother.”

“The one that called you ‘boy’ and liked to tell you they should’ve left you on the battlefield as a baby?” Arden nodded. “Yeah, not sure I’d call that someone really close, then,” Varric said dryly.

“Why? What’s that got to do with it?” Arden asked.

Varric sighed. “Because I think what you’re feeling is grief.”

The two of them sat in silence, the shadows of the room wrapping around them. Arden stared at Varric, but Varric was looking into the invisible distance, seeing who knew what.

“Grief?” It didn’t make sense.

“Grief,” said Varric, “is a terrible thing. It eats everything around it. It drains you, body and soul. You feel it in your heart.”

Arden sat with that, eyes closed, and at last he felt the bloom of tears against his eyelids. He took a shaky breath.

“D’Meta’s Crossing. All those people. Children. There were children, in the–” he couldn’t say it, and couldn’t erase it. In the pulsing, tangled masses, amidst the boils and sickened roots. In the piles of dead, heaped up by the uncaring hands of people who had once loved them. “All dead. And how many more, Varric? How many dying right now, and I’m just sitting here, and I can’t even pull it together.”

“Yeah, that’s the grief. I’m sorry, Rook.”

“How…how do you manage? How do you live with it?” There were tears on Arden’s cheeks now, but it was no relief. “It’s crushing me!”

“I know. I know, kid. I’m sorry. It–” he broke off, closing his eyes for a minute. “It gets lighter, bit by bit. You go for stretches where you forget. Sometimes you wake up in the morning and it’s not the first thing you think about. But it’ll hit you again, out of nowhere. You just…get used to it.”

“It feels impossible.”

“Yeah, but people do it every day. And it’ll teach you something, too.”

“What’s that?” Arden asked.

“To value what you have, while you have it. To make sure you love things while they’re here.” Varric sighed again. “Especially if you didn’t do that before it was too late.”

It hurt so much. Arden took breath after breath, but every time it felt like he wouldn’t be able to take the next one.

“Nothing can ever be the way it was,” Arden choked out. The burning in his chest was so strong; it was agonizing. “Can we even stop them? Can we save anything? Varric–” and he said the name like a plea; please, please tell me it’ll be okay, but it can’t. It can’t be okay. “Varric, this is my fault.”

“Hey! Hey, look at me.” Arden obeyed, looking up at Varric, vision warped by the tears. “We’ve been over this. If this is anyone��s fault, it’s mine. Well, mine and Solas’. You did what I asked you to.”

“What difference does intention make if it destroys so much!?” Arden was nearly shouting, now. “What I’ve let out–it’s worse than anything Solas was doing! At least he meant there to be a world left when he was done! This–this is going to destroy everything!”

“Okay, you want to talk about fault?” Varric snapped. “Let’s talk about fault, because we’ve been over all this before but I know you’re forgetting. Who was it that found that knife in the Deep Roads, back when it was red lyrium? Me. Who was there when we freed Corypheus? Me. Sure, I thought what I was doing was good then, too. How many people have died? Nobody can count. We’re still fighting the red lyrium. Maybe we always will be. I’m too old to pretend about this, Rook. Almost every damned time something went straight to the Void in the last twenty years, I was right there in the middle. So do you hate me?”

“No!”

“What about Solas? His ritual. His dagger. His war, that we’ve gotten sucked into thousands of years later. Do you hate him?”

“I don’t…I don’t think so? I mean, we’ve seen what he was fighting. I don’t even know what to think, any more.” Arden swiped a sleeve across his nose, trying to stop sniveling like a child. “I don’t know, any more.”

“We didn’t create all this cruelty, Rook. We just…tripped over it, I guess you could say. Tore the wound open. And maybe I should hate myself. And maybe some days I do. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. A lot of really big mistakes.” Varric stopped, taking a deep breath. “Maybe that’s why I don’t want to give up on Solas, who knows.”

“Varric, no–” Arden ached. Varric almost never opened up like this, and it was terrible to see.

“But you aren’t one of those mistakes, kid. You’re one of the best decisions I ever made.” Varric nodded to himself. “And I know that you’ll find a way through this.”

“How?”

“For now? One step at a time. Just figure out the next step, Rook. It’ll get easier once you’re moving.”

#write what you know hahaha #this is definitely only about a video game haha #stuff red wrote #arden mercar #dragon age #dragon age rook #varric tethras

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rebelliousstories · 3 days ago

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Roses

ValenFics

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,891

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: There is only one person in this world that James Logan Howlett is soft for. Anyone else who finds out, very quickly learns not to blab.

Consider Donating: Here

Everyone at the school knew one thing, and they knew it well; Logan does not do holidays. At least, not in the traditional sense. He will show up for the parties occasionally, and he may even give a gift in public at Christmas. But for the most part, he liked keeping that part of his life private. And not because he did not trust anyone, but rather, that was just how he was.

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, the school was busy putting together cards for their valentines, or simply working up the courage to ask the object of their affection. Pink, red, and white hearts littered the walls, with paper garland of the same colors on the banisters. Punny drawings were hung outside of classrooms. All in all, the whole school was in love.

“Come on, Logan. Just tell me. What are you doing for her?” Storm pleaded, following after him as he made his way to his girlfriend’s classroom. The sounds of music and singing began pouring out of the room the closer the pair got.

“And as I told you, Storm. It’s no one’s business but ours.” He protested, leaning against the wall next to the door. According to his watch, he only had another couple of minutes before she would be free for lunch.

“Yeah, but-”

“Storm, seriously. If it makes you happy,” Logan cut her off, “we’re going to have a small date night in our room.”

“Are you going to come to the Valentine’s Day party?” He groaned. If it had just been left to Wolverine, he would not be going. He would take his girlfriend on his bike, drive somewhere far away, and spend the weekend together without any distractions.

“I don’t know.” Thankfully, Logan was spared from any other questions as students began to file out of the classroom. Nodding towards the white- haired woman, he ducked inside, smiling at the kids. Kindergarten grade music was a good class to come in on as all the kids were young enough to just view Logan as a big, scary, teddy bear. They knew he was someone to fear, but that did not stop them from happily exclaiming his name as they left.

“I was wondering why there was a commotion outside my door.” She smiled, rounding her desk once she saw her boyfriend walk in.

“Thought I’d come get you for lunch.” He muttered softly, hands going to her waist, and lips going to her own.

Pulling away reluctantly after a moment, she smiled. “I could do with some food.”

During their lunch together, the couple sat in a peaceful, and comfortable silence. After so many years together, and being with each other nearly every second of every day, sometimes they just needed some silence. However, shockingly, it was Logan that broke it.

“So, Storm was asking about us going to the Valentine’s party they’re throwing.” He began hesitating, like he was unsure of how to breach the subject.

“Yeah…” her eyebrow arched at his words. “Do you want to go?”

“If you want to, I won’t stop you.” Logan replied.

“That’s not an answer, Wolvie.” She protested. “If you don’t wanna go, we don’t have to.”

There was a long period of silence after she finished. Piercing her chicken with a fork, she continued to eat while her boyfriend was pushing his own meal around. “We can go.”

Looking at him, she was hesitant to accept that answer. But Logan just kissed her forehead instead, and then got back into his sandwich.

The closer the fourteenth got, Logan began trying to think of what he wanted to get his girlfriend. He did not want to get her something perishable, but he knew that she did like flowers. What did not help was the fact that it seemed everyone and then some in this school was interested in knowing what he was going to do.

Purely from being in the kitchen at the right time, he knew that Jean was going to be getting Scott a specialty pair of his iconic red glasses. Storm was badgering him about what he was getting his girlfriend. When he finally decided on what he was going to get her, he did not tell anyone. Regardless of how much the women bugged him about it.

Which is why when Rogue found an order meant to go to Logan on the doorstep of the school after her morning jog, she was extra excited. The massive bouquet, snuggled inside of an earthenware style vase, was in her hands, and a smile was on her face as she strutted through the school. She really did try to find Logan, but that did not mean that she stumbled upon him first.

“Who’s the secret admirer, Rogue?” Jean pondered, coming up to the young girl.

“It’s not for me. A certain Wolverine got these.” She proclaimed proudly.

“Oh. Let me know how that goes.” The older woman teased, noticing that mischievous expression on her face.

Rogue continued on her merry way through the school, finally finding the big burly man that she needed to. To make everything better, he was in one of the studies with Storm and Charles, going over something that looked like intel on Magneto, but she could not be sure.

“Logan!” She called, practically floating over. Peaking above the line of the flowers, the expressions Rogue saw was priceless.

Storm was impish. Charles looked intrigued. And Logan… well, Logan was mortified.

“Where did you get those?” He hissed, storming over to snatch the bouquet from Rogue’s grasp.

“They were on the front porch. Found them after my run.” Rogue shrugged, sitting down at the unoccupied seat.

Charles, from his spot observing everything, simply chuckled. “Go put those in your room, Logan. Somewhere she won’t find them.”

Sending a glare towards Rogue, and one to Storm for good measure, Logan followed the professor’s advice and left. Thankfully, his girlfriend was not in their room when he got there, but he still snuck around. He could only hope that Rogue and Storm would keep their mouths shut about this. It was not that he cared terribly for his image, but it did help to keep up appearances.

For a couple more days, Logan checked on the flowers, hidden in his closet. And that entire time, he kept his ears open. Waiting to hear the rumors start up from the bouquet being delivered for him. Waiting for people to start calling him a sap or soft. But nothing of the sort came of it. Everyone operated normally. It did not stop him from being a little paranoid, but it never panned out. By the time that Valentine’s Day came, he had not heard anything that he could attribute as to coming from Rogue or Storm.

That morning, he had awoken extra early. With her still sleeping, Logan kissed her forehead before crawling out of their bed. Getting down into the kitchen, there were no people in there which was a blessing. All he was able to do was some simple bacon, toast, and eggs, but it was going to be enough. Grabbing a small bowl of fruit to go along with it, Logan tried to balance the food on a tray as well as a coffee for her on his way back up to their room.

When he got back in the bedroom, she was already up. Rubbing her eyes, she smiled sleepily up at her boyfriend as he came in with a tray full of goodies. “Hey, Log.”

“Hey, princess. Set your legs out straight for me, will ya?” He guided gently, watching her close. Once she set her legs out, the tray was placed on top of them and Logan came to her other side.

“Ooo, full spread. You are spoiling me.” She complimented, leaning up for a quick kiss.

“Anything for you. Eat up.” Passing her some utensils, he grabbed his own to also begin eating. Wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders, Logan enjoyed pressing kisses to her head while they ate. As much as she enjoyed kissing his scruffy jawline.

“Oh, Log, I’ve got you something.” She exclaimed happily. Pushing the food into his lap inside, she got up and went over to the dresser where she kept the majority of her clothing. Well, everything that could be folded and did not need to be hung.

As cliche as it was, she began to dig around in the sock drawer before she finally pulled something out. Plopping back down on their bed, she passed over a box to his hands. Logan, with curious eyes and a confused mind, opened the box and was even more baffled by what he found. A small figurine of something that looked like a badger.

“What is it?” He asked finally after a few moments.

“It’s a wolverine.” Her words were proud as she showed it off. The figure was no larger than a piece on a chess board, but it was still incredibly detailed.

“Thank you,” came his whisper. Logan nuzzled his nose into her cheek in acknowledgment. He was a man of few words, but he preferred actions anyways.

“Wait here.” It felt like a game of musical chairs but with the food tray. He passed it back to her, and then got up himself. Grabbing the gift that was just inside the door of his closet, underneath a flannel he used in case she needed something from inside, Logan came back.

She gasped once she saw what was in his hands. “Oh, Logan.”

Her eyes twinkled when she saw the vase and flowers. What appeared to be roses sat in a clay- type vase, but they were not normal roses. Scrunching her brows, she looked up at her boyfriend with a question behind her eyes.

“They’re resin coated. Supposed to make them last forever. They’re not supposed to wilt or decay.” Logan explained. In an instant, the food was moved to the foot of the bed, the flowers set on the floor beside them, and she launched herself into his arms.

She kept repeating her thank you’s over and over, pressing kisses to her boyfriend’s skin where ever she could. He just chuckled, letting her get her expressions out. Once she began to lose steam, he just grabbed her to kiss her lips.

“Thank you, Logan. I really appreciate these.” She repeated.

“So you’ve said. Glad you like them, princess.” Howlett whispered huskily, reaching a hand up to caress her cheek.

“I love them.”

Later in the evening, once all the classes had been finished, the Valentine’s party was in full swing. Hanging near the back, Logan had his girlfriend tucked underneath one arm, and a beer in the other hand. They had enjoyed a peaceful night, and talking to their friends. At one point in the evening, Rogue, Storm, Jean and Scott all came to hang out with the couple.

“So…” Rogue drawled, getting an impish grin, “how did she like the flowers?”

“Huh?” She questioned, looking up at her boyfriend.

“Rogue, if you told anyone-”

“I didn’t, okay!” The southerner held up her hands in defense. “But now that you’ve given them to her, can I talk about it now?”

“No.”

“Okay. Bobby, come here!” She yelled, rushing off before Logan could stop her.

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