#gonna update and stop second-guessing

[universalfanfic]

Chapter 25

A honeymoon obviously wasn’t happening after the wedding, but Peyton and Lex took a few days off of work, officially, just for show. Lex used the plant’s delicate state as an excuse for them not to leave and jet off somewhere. And it wasn’t exactly a lie either. Now Peyton sat in a little office, more like a commandeered study, that she made for herself a few doors down from Lex’s office. It was convenient for when he had his own phone calls to make or an at-home meeting. At the moment, Lex was at the plant and she kept herself busy with finishing up some internal memos. Peyton drummed her fingers on her desk as the easy work allowed her mind to wander.

FFN

AO3

[ynsvnte]

flowers bloom and so does his heat…?

pairing: snowleopard!Sunghoon X bunny!femreader

synopsis: your boyfriend starts his heat as the flowers begin to bloom. As he takes it out on you. You don’t know if you’re going to make it out alive — genre: smut (MDNI 18+), fluff, est. relationship, hybrids. Warnings under cut

word count: 447

A/n: hi.. I’m back. I got an idea after seeing someone talk about it but like it was about gojo. Yes I’ve been well. Just I don’t really feel that motivated to write as much. I try to but. DOESNT work out. Idk if I’m going to update QoD soon. But I’ll see.

Masterlist

warnings: unprotected sex, knots, breeding, rough sex, some slapping, swearing, pet names, kissing.

The weather was warming up. Flowers blooming, sun out, plus many more things.. which includes the heat of your snow leopard boyfriend, Sunghoon. Clearly being a bunny you knew you wouldn’t survive.

“Come on you can take one more..” he teases your folds. Softly rubbing it in circles. Overstimulated so much by your th orgasm. You lost count. Gosh every part of your body was in flames. Thanks to him.

You slur your words. Mumbling.. already cock drunk. “Huh.. What was that sweetheart? I couldn’t hear.” the leopard teases you, enjoying you in this state. He slowly pumped two fingers in your stuffed cunt.

“Ha- s-not.. fair.” You managed to speak out. “What’s not fair.? That I’m fucking you.. Awee baby.. well..” he slaps your ass softly before realigning himself back to your fucked out hole. “Guess you have to—fucking— take it.” He shoves his cock back in. The snug tight fit, almost making him come.

“Ha-sweets. Feel.. so fucking good” Sunghoon lifts up you legs putting you into a mating press. You can feel him go deeper, making you let out a whimper. “Feels good doesn’t it? Of course it does.. mhm..” He starts thrusting, his hips having their own mind. “I could stay here forever..”

You’re too fucked out to even comprehend anything your boyfriend was saying. Gasps and moans exiting your mouth. With each growing thurst Sunghoon was growing more hungry, more feral. Only you can have this effect on him. “Wife.. my wife.. gonna.. put a ring in your finger.. make sure.. your tummy is full—stuffed.” He leans in, sucking your neck making sure he’ll leave marks for everyone to see.

“Making sure you’re stuffed.. of my knot..” He growls losing his sanity as he fucks you. You feel.. something, something bulging and hot. “Sung-“

“My knot.. making sure you fucking take it” he slams harder.. the living room filled the sound of moan, growls, whimpers, skin slapping. You don’t doubt the neighbors have heard you by now.

“My wife.. mhm.. so perfect for me.. and only me..” You feel a tight knot in your lower belly.. “mhm.. boutta.. cum.” You whimper. Sunghoon chuckles using one hand to rub your clit. Hoping you’ll cum in any second.

His large girth hitting all the right spots, you cum, cunt pulsing and clenching around his cock.. barely allowing him to move and causing his orgasm.

Sunghoon grabs your neck and slams your lips together. Teeth grazing into the sloppy kiss, you moan in the kiss as you feel him come inside you again.

“Mhm.. fuck we aren’t stopping till you get pregnant .. gotta let everyone know you’re my wife..”

yeah you aren’t surviving this.

© ynsvnte copyright 2025

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 3

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (now skeptical!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. A/N: I’ve already outlined the entire thing–now it’s just a matter of writing it, so don’t worry! Even if some chapters take me longer to update, I’m gonna finish this one way or another. Promise. *fingers crossed* Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, reader thinks she’s losing her marbles because of a certain someone

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10 - Epilogue

“Alright—okay, don’t be stupid,” You chant to yourself as you pace restlessly from the kitchen area of your studio, to the coffee table where you’ve set your phone lying facedown. “Just open the damn thing.” 

You’ve just arrived back at the condo a little past seven PM after a, frankly, productive—if not slightly distracted—day of running errands. You’re home, and you haven’t even got to unpacking the two paper bags (and a box) worth of groceries that were all but thrown carelessly on the kitchen counter, and already, you’re back to stressing over all the weird shit that's been happening to you.

Throughout the afternoon, you tried your hardest to resist the urge to check your phone, especially whenever you see the screen light up—whether it was in your hand or stashed away in your half-zipped fanny pack.

It’s at the most random times too, but always when you act on your unfortunate tendency to monologue your thoughts out loud. 

Sure, it could just be some random push app notifications. Text messages from the few people that hit you up on the weekends—invitations to hang out, maybe. A few newsletters you forgot to unsubscribe from if you’re unlucky. 

But you think the timing’s far too deliberate to be purely coincidental. 

“Do I get a dozen eggs or just half? What do I even need a dozen for?” (Phone vibrates)

“Oh, hey, Indomie’s on sale if you buy in bulk. How much for a box?” (Screen flashes. Twice.)

“Who the hell is holding up the line, damn–oh, it’s an old lady. Better hurry the fuck up, grandma.” (Screen flashes) “...Sorry! I didn’t mean that.” 

“Ughhh… my tummy hurty…” (Phone vibrates) “What—” 

“Everything’s perfectly normal. Just your average, sunny Saturday! You are an independent, capable adult… who’s fucking losing it.” (Screen flashes– after a minute interval) 

Of course, you have an inkling as to what’s—or who’s—blowing your phone up; in fact, he’s never left your mind since this morning.

So presently, you’re in the middle of having a small existential crisis over what that means, for you and your sanity. No big deal. 

You puff out your cheeks for a couple of seconds before letting out a deep breath. Don’t be a pussy. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation to all of this. You’re— you’re not crazy. 

Landing heavily down in front of the low table, you finally grab your phone, hand shaking with the teensiest amount of trepidation. Not giving yourself any more time to think and second-guess, you flip it over, switching it back to Ring mode as you swipe up to see—

—a barrage of notifications; one popping up after another. 

Some of them are what you’ve expected: plain, old push notifications from banking apps, others from varying socials. There’s one from your mom. A reminder to email her the flight tickets you still haven’t gotten around to booking yet. 

And. Six banner notifications from the game. From… from—him. It’s something you’ve already braced yourself for. It doesn’t prepare you, however, for what they actually said. 

A knot grows in your chest, spreading rapidly like slithering twine as your mind tries, and somewhat fails, to make sense of what your eyes are seeing. 

Grab a dozen, sweetie. It won’t add much to the total cost, and you need that protein every morning. Cereal’s not gonna cut it. 

You really ought to lessen your sodium intake, kitten. (and) Do NOT get the box. Stop. 

Haha. A feisty one, aren’t you? 

Mmm, poor baby.

I– we can talk about this later when you get home.

Each notification contains a completely unique dialogue you’ve never seen before. A play-by-play commentary specifically in response to you—to your personal remarks from earlier, spoken out loud—that there is absolutely no way anyone could still pass this off as simply being system-generated. 

A faint ringing echoes in your ears as you slowly draw back, putting some distance between the onslaught of text and… you. You can’t seem to tear your gaze away from the screen, though. Even if the back of your head bumps against the seat edge of the sofa behind you from how far you’ve already leaned back. 

Blinking in stunned silence, the only thing you could croak out is a strained “what the fuuuck.” 

... Ping!

Still mustering the courage to face me? Don’t keep me in suspense, darling. 

The sudden message jolts you back to reality. You suck in a deep breath.

… Despite everything, you can’t help but find his nonchalant response to your gradual spiral into hysterics—because he knows—a little amusing. Also rude. But mostly funny. 

(It’s also probably just your brain’s last-ditch effort to find some semblance of control, but whatever.)

At this point, you know that you’re merely delaying the inevitable. Swallowing, you press on one of Sylus’ messages and it immediately boots up the game. 

Instead of soothing your nerves like it usually does, the orchestral background music from the loading screen puts you more on edge; your anxiety builds up to a crescendo, harmonious to the heralding of what you know will undoubtedly change the trajectory of your life. 

Dramatic, but true. 

48%... 82%... 98%...

There’s a hollow drop in your stomach when the screen—finally—reveals the familiar sight of the café. The golden ambient light enters your field of vision for a split second before your eyes flit reflexively to the man standing in the middle of the screen, whose presence commandeered your full attention.

He’s wearing his motorcycle jacket—the black one with the red and white thorn(?) accents, paired along the pair of leather pants with the iconic double zipper. Aside from the black zircon studs, he’s not wearing anything out of the ordinary. Nothing is looking out of the ordinary, actually. 

Holding your breath, you wait for the other shoe to drop. 

“Are you waiting for me to say hello? Then–” Sylus muses with an amused lilt to his voice, sauntering closer to flick “your” forehead. There’s a beat before he continues: “That’s my way of saying hello.” 

… Huh? 

That’s—this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. You… you don’t know what you were expecting, but this wasn’t it.

The man in front of you doesn’t look any different from how he usually does; the way that his… character animation (Should you call it that? It doesn’t seem right, given the circumstance, but you don’t know how best to describe anything anymore) flows is so–-so infuriatingly… normal. As if it’s just like any other day that you’ve logged in the game. 

Where did the sentience go? Why is he reciting lines he’s programmed to say? None of it adds up.

Your mouth tries to form words, but nothing comes out. With wide eyes, you helplessly gape at him. Speechless. For a moment, you feel like you’ve actually gone mad. 

A small “what’s happening?” slips past your lips. Your eyes dart across his face, trying to analyze every microexpression, any hint of sentience on him—in his eyes, in his movements. 

You find none. 

Mechanically, you exit the game.

“What the actual fuck?” You whisper-shout at nothing in particular, and maybe to the biggest cause of your current disconcertion; one who you thought… Who you were sure was—

-

-

Fuck it. It’s time to put your detective skills to work.

[bugzzybabe]

Social Media [Steve Rogers x Reader]

Summary: Reader teaches Steve how to use social media and he sees her more provocative pictures.

Authors Note: This was written with the intention of a second part so let me know by the end if that sounds appealing. Enjoy!

WC: 1.2k

Steve might have been over a hundred years old but he did his best to keep up with the times. Over the past two years of being with the Avengers, Steve and you had fallen into routine of you casually keeping him up to date with societal standards and routines. Whether it was explaining to him hookup culture or ubers, he was always attentive during your lessons.

You hadn't recognized it, but the past few months, Steve had been taking extra care to impress you. Listening and being there for you was something he took extra pride in as he wanted you to know that he cared.

Little did he know, you had also grown quite fond off the talks you would share. The way his shoulder would brush yours would send shocks down your spine as you tried to ignore any type of non platonic feelings. You truly believed he could never feel that way about you, so you did your best to maintain the friendship.

It was especially hard to keep this act up though when he was staring at you with those bright blue eyes that peered straight into your thumping heart, as he was doing now.

"Please teach me how to use the online medias. Tony won't stop posting pictures of my butt and posting them on the bird app calling it 'America's Ass'." Steve shuttered as he recounted the memes the team would make of him when he wasn't looking. Tony did have a secret spam that he would use to often make fun of the team in a loving way. Everyone assumed it was Peter's doing until you walked in one day on Tony snickering while posting a photo of Clint having fallen asleep in one of the vents.

Looking back at the tall and brutally handsome man in front of you, you sighed and patted the seat on the couch next to you. Steve gave you that faint worthy smile as he politely sat within arms reach of you. The body heat he gave off made you want to melt but you brushed it off and gestured for his phone.

"Oh right!" He fumbled as he patted his pockets down for the phone under Stark Technologies. Steve was one of the only people who denied all the updates Tony would provide for all the team's tech. You always felt bad as using technology for Steve was hard enough without all the constant updates of flashy nonsense.

"So first I'm going to go to the app store and download some of the more common social media apps like Twitter and Instagram." You gently explained as Steve watched you maneuver throughout his phone. He was always left in awe of how natural it all came to you.

"And I don't have to pay for it?" He questioned as you shook your head.

"Nope! Some apps cost money but most don't. Either way, Tony probably would cover it no problem." You stated as the apps downloaded.

Once they were loaded, you opened Instagram and began to sign Steve up. Since there was already an account for Captain America, run by the team's press, there was no need to create a professional one.

"Now I'm gonna make you an account just for your personal use, not to promote any avengers things. Just for Steve!" He nodded along as you rambled, just in awe of you. Honestly you could say anything and he would probably go along with it.

"You can use this account to post or not post whatever. Some people use it for aesthetic pictures they take, photos of friends and family or just selfies of themselves."

"What do you post?" Steve asked as your rambling was cut short. You should've expected this question but you never thought your crush/friend/coworker would ever see your feed (seeing as Steve is clueless when it comes to the internet).

You blushed and stammered to answer, "Well I post pictures of my friends, food I really liked or photos that I look good in I guess..." You mumble the last part and internally beg he wouldn't request to see it. The reason for this being that you had a couple bikini pictures up that usually weren't a problem or shameful secret, but you just didn't want Steve seeing them.

"Can I follow you?" Steve asks with a soft look in his eyes. Your heart fluttered as you pretended to be chill and shrugged looking back at his phone. You proceeded to look up your account and followed it before quickly exiting before he had a chance to see anything.

Steve smiled at you before continuing the conversation, "Thank you for helping me with all this. I didn't want to ask the others and have them make fun of me." He shyly stated as you looked at the man with wide eyes. You didn't realize how comfortable he felt around you until you realized you were the person he came to for help with all of this.

"Oh Steve, it's no problem at all! Plus you're such a fast learner that it's no big deal." Plus you loved being around him so that made it easy. You weren't gonna tell him that last part though...

After another hour of explaining how social media worked, Steve gave you another genuine smile and excused himself to go finish up a last minute report. The second he left the room you let out an exhausted sigh and sunk back into the couch.

Everytime Steve was around you, you got so in your own head that he basically consumed your mind. Little did you know you had the same effect on Steve. The second he stepped into his office, he let out a sigh he didn't realize he was holding. The only real reason he wanted to get on social media was to see all the photos you always seemed to be posting. He saw one of your photos on Natashas phone the other day when she left it out and had never felt so compelled to steal something before.

Within the privacy of his office, Steve finally brought his phone back out and opened Instagram. Going to his following page like you taught him, he opened your account and almost passed out. Right there on your third latest post was a picture of you and Wanda from a hike you had gone on a couple days prior.

Looking at the blissful smile on your face, Steve felt himself falling even harder for you. He continued to scroll through your account until he landed on one of your posts from a couple months ago. You had gone with the girls on a beach trip (funded by Tony) and had a mini photoshoot at the beach. Steve's face flushed bright red as he tried not to look too hard at the photo. He couldn't help but admire the red one piece you were wearing and how it hugged each of your curves in a way that left his mouth watering.

Fumbling to exit out of the photo before he continued to think the lewd thoughts forming in his mind, Steve accidentally hit the like button. Actively trying to not mess up further, Steve threw his phone across the room, hoping it would turn off. Digging his nails into the desk, he took deep breaths as to try and erase the image of you looking so breathtakingly stunning in his mind.

Hesitantly going to pick back up his phone, Steve noticed a new message from you. He quickly opened it up to find a text that made his breath catch, "Come meet me in my room in 10". Holy shit. 

Authors Note: Comment if you want a part 2 with smut ;)

[miaoua3]

(pairing: scoups x f!reader)

trying to slowly gain my motivation back to write because I literally feel like crying every time i attempt to finish the fic that i started three weeks ago lmao

your steps have a little skip in them as you walk down the road, happily swinging your and cheol’s intertwined hands as you do so.

to be completely honest, you aren’t really sure why you are so happy, you just…are.

the day hasn’t been anything too special-you decided to use the rare free day that cheol had and got up early to have a breakfast at your favourite bakery. the old lady who is the owner of the shop smiled as she took your orders, although she could’ve already guessed what the two of you were going to order, being that you two come at least once every two weeks in there.

your boyfriend looked very handsome, with his black hair slicked back and white tshirt, a light green cardigan that matched your dress thrown over it. the smile that decorated his handsome face the entire time made him all the more beautiful.

you two chatted about anything and everything, briefly revisiting the old drama from that ex coworker of yours, cheol being just as invested as you as you showed him her most recent instagram update of hers.

after you have finished with the breakfast, you decided to just…walk around.

you dragged your poor boyfriend around one too many stores, making him try all sorts of clothes before you showed him mercy and he paid for the things you picked out for the two of you.

after you left your bags in the car, he gently took your hand and suggested that a walk through a nearby park could be nice.

you close your eyes as you take a deep breath of the fresh spring air, the soft smell of flowers that surround you lingering inside your nose.

with a sigh, you look at cheol with a smile on your face “i couldn’t be happier to finally have spring back. i haven’t felt sun on my face in months.”

you briefly drop his hand in the name of spreading your arms wide and running a few metres in front of him, before you turn around to look at him.

and cheol?

cheol feels his breath get stuck inside his throat at the sight in front of him.

the soft green dress that perfectly hugs your body, the way the soft wind plays with your hair, the way your eyes look even brighter in the sun.

and that smile.

god, the things seungcheol would do to have that smile permanently tattooed on your face.

suddenly, you run back to him, giggling as you do, before stopping just a hair short of his body.

the fond smile that grazes the corners of his lips makes you fall that much deeper in love with him.

quickly, you lean in and peck his lips before pulling away to reveal a mixture of a happy and mischievous smile on your own lips.

cheol just squints his eyes suspiciously at you before grabbing your cheeks all too quickly and pulling you back in for another kiss, one much deeper and much softer than the one you laid on him.

your hand find their place around his waist, hugging him close to yourself as you thoroughly enjoy the little make out session that cheol is “making” you participate in.

pulling slowly away, he opens his eyes to see that blinding smile of yours.

a matching one graces his features as he softly asks you “what’s got you so smiley today, my little fairy-looking goddess?”

you giggle at the silly nickname before you lean back in to place another soft but quick kiss on his cherry coloured lips.

lowly, almost like it’s a secret, you respond “you. you always make me feel so happy. life with you feels much better and brighter in general.”

cheol looks at your soft eyes for a second, briefly stunned by your answer, before he loops his arms around your neck and kisses you once more, fierceness and power being the driving force behind it.

after a few seconds, he pulls away, looking at your gorgeous face yet again, before he lowly says something that will get you feeling as flustered as your first date with the man in front of you did.

“im gonna marry you one day, you silly and crazy woman. be ready.”

the only thought that roams around your head for the rest of the day as you think about his words is

bring it on, baby.

[chuulyssa]

🇨​​ 🇴 ​​🇳 ​​🇫​​ 🇪 ​​🇸​​ 🇸 ​​🇮 ​​🇴 ​​🇳​ ！

BSD MEN REACTING TO A CONFESSION.

↷ A/N ─ yes new divider again because im indecisive as heck

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , atsushi , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ mentions of suicide, insecurities, overall fluff

"i love you."

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

promptly replies with, "i love you too."

he'll lean into you with an amused smile because he lowkey thinks you're joking

when he realizes you're serious about it he'll immediately stop the stupid grin

and look at you with this sincere look you've never seen on his face before

he'll hold your hand and everything while repeating "i love you too," for a second time, only this time he's serious about it too

definitely asks for double suicide later

"You know it's my motto to unalive myself with a beautiful woman. How lucky of you to have been bestowed upon this honour."

"Mhm."

"I'll say yes if you join me in a double suicide," he asks with puppy eyes.

"Dazai, you already said yes."

"I'll say it again!"

​ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

he stops abruptly and half chokes on his expensive ass wine

poor boy is really confused 😭 because "where did that come from??"

he tries to play it cool but he's literally SCREAMING inside

we all know he's been betrayed a lot of times in the past so he feels hesitant about it

will decide to give it a shot tho

100% calls dazai to brag about it

"You may be taller or whatever (as if that matters in the first place) but were you the one able to steal her heart? Eh? I think not!"

You chuckle hearing him update his rival of his new relationship status.

"And anyway," he raises a glass of wine for toast. "I'd like to thank my good looks, good looks and did I mention my good looks (?) for making tonight the happiest night ever."

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

"i know."

he has always observed every single thing about you - how you behave around others vs how you behave around him, the little times you look at him like you want his attention etc etc

he's known about this since like soooo long

he defo also knew when where and how you were gonna confess

went to yosano for tips to react to it and bought you chocolates and stuff. he thinks it'll make you happy :D

eats all of that himself even tho he originally bought it for you but you let it slide because he's a cutie patootie

"You could at least have been a bit subtle about it," he says, munching on his chips. "I mean, anyone who saw you would've been able to guess. I didn't even need my ability for this!"

He lifts his chin up thoughtfully, fingers ripping open another packet of snacks. "You should be grateful I'm not a snitch. Eh, well," he shrugs, "You're now dating the greatest detective in the world! Congratulations!"

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

"eh???"

like chuuya, he's pretty confused too

"are you sure?"

tries to keep a straight face and hide his fluster

he'll narrow his eyes at you as if he's trying to read your emotions. he doesn't wanna get hurt if he gets too attached to you and you two end up breaking up

also how tf is he supposed to believe that someone like YOU like someone like HIM?

reassure him that he's perfect please :( poor baby deserves the world

"I am a lot of work. I don't think you can keep up with all of that," he says shortly.

"I'll try my best."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to!"

He stares at you for a few moments, looking like he's about to cry.

"Oh, alright then," he waves a hand around. "But don't you ever leave me."

ᴀᴛꜱᴜꜱʜɪ.

screams

"SAY IT AGAIN PLEASE!"

jumps around everywhere in happiness

you dont even get a verbal answer the man's just dancing around

either that or he just faints

he's, like akutagawa, insecure about himself. but he's much more open to showing his emotions to you.

you end up cuddling the whole night or he calls off work to be with you for the rest of the day <3

"I..." he repeats the same word for the fifth time in a row.

"Yes?"

"Don't mind me, I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that I get to date you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no!" he panics, wringing both hands all over himself hastily. "I love you! Really!"

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

no reaction. im sorry

spares a small glance at you but otherwise doesn't get distracted from his work

you think he's gone deaf from the way he just ignored you cuz what????

will spend like 15 minutes that way before extending an arm to you and you lowkey DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO??? HELP??

he'll stare at you for a few seconds before pulling you onto his lap and continuing with his work

and that's his way of saying yes

He shuts the computers around him down and taps your outer thigh twice. You immediately stand up and help him up. He stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating something.

"You know, I never thought I'd enable others to call me a lovesick fool."

"Does that mean you are a lovesick fool?"

"A little, maybe," he turns around and walks out of the door while you follow him with a soft smile on your face.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[mercifulstate]

⋆.˚ 𖥔˚ STFU AND STOP WORRYING ABOUT THE "HOW".

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Like, seriously. Y’all are out here stressing over the HOW like it’s some cosmic riddle you have to solve before you can get what you want. The universe (or your subconscious, or whatever you believe in) isn’t your personal math problem. It’s not a puzzle you have to figure out. It’s not even a damn game of Tetris. The only thing you need to do is claim your shit and own it.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎You wanna know why? Because it’s already done. Your manifestation is sitting there, waiting for you to stop questioning how it’s gonna show up and just accept that it's done. Like, why are you stressing over how your food’s gonna get to you? You ordered it, it’s done. Why are you over here trying to cook it yourself, adding random ingredients, and trying to guess the delivery method? Babe, stop overthinking.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Let me break it down for you. You walk into a restaurant, right? You already know what you want—a juicy burger, crispy fries, or that milkshake you only get when you’re feeling extra. You don’t sit there asking, “How’s this burger gonna get to me? What kind of magic is going on in the kitchen? Are they summoning it with a spell?” Nah. You order it, pay for it, and trust that the kitchen’s gonna handle the rest. You sit back, check your phone, and wait, knowing the food is coming. No stress, no questions. That’s what trust, persistence and belief looks like.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Now, let’s talk about manifestation in general—whether it be through affirmations, the void, LOA or whatever. You really think the universe (or your subconscious, whatever) is sitting there like, “Oh, I’ll give you that mansion, but I’m gonna make you wait 5 years, give you a job you hate, and throw in some random drama to really test you”? ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎HELL NO! You ordered that mansion, that life and that glow-up. The universe (or your subconscious) is already cooking it up for you. Actually? Scratch that. It’s already done. Because manifestation is instant. The second you declared it as yours, the shift happened. The path is already bridging, aligning, snapping into place like puzzle pieces rearranging themselves just to serve you what you asked for. You don’t need to sit there demanding a status update. Stop asking, “How long will it take? Where’s it coming from? Is the delivery driver cute?” GIRL. Your order is done! Everything is already falling into place.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎So here’s the tea: stop stressing over the HOW. Stop micromanaging and overcomplicating everything. Just accept that it’s already yours. Sit back, relax, and just accept that your manifestation is already on its way. Or better yet, it’s already here.

It’s already yours. Now go claim it. You’re welcome, bitch.

[leashybebes]

this isn't quite a fix-it, but it opens the door to fix it. also i have had a real shitty week for a whole host of reasons and i'm getting out my sads. sorry!

Tommy drives away from Evan's - Buck's - the loft - for the last time feeling like he's been gutted. Liked he's gutting himself. He has to pull over at one point just to breathe, just so that if he's not driving he can't pull a highly illegal u-turn in the middle of the road and go back. 

The first voicemail is on his phone by the time he gets home. For a long, wavering moment, he thinks he isn't going to listen to it, but it never really feels like an option. In the cab of his truck, Tommy hits play. The message is thirteen seconds of silence, an inhale, and the dial tone. Tommy listens to it three times, turns the volume all the way up, blocks his other ear. 

It's just silence.

Everything is just silence.

—

The second message comes three days later, sometime during his shift, when he'd voluntarily benched himself for the first time in years, spent the day doing maintenance, his phone tucked away in his locker so he can stop feeling stupid for reflexively checking it every five minutes. Two weeks from now, he won't know Evan's schedule, but right now he knows he's on shift and part of him can't help anticipating those regular little updates. He knows they won't come - in his head he knows it, but his stupid, cowardly, aching heart is taking a minute to get with the programme.

That same stupid heart leaps when he sees the notification at the end of his shift. It plummets again quick enough, because he knows - he blew it all up so severely there's no way the message can be anything other than anger or practicalities, so he waits until he gets home to listen to it. It's not much longer than the silent one from the other day, but it's so much worse.

"I'm gonna send Eddie over with your stuff. Can you give him my things, please."

It sounds flat, rehearsed, awful. Tommy tells himself he doesn't have the right to feel sad, lets his eyes slide away from the bottle of scotch in the cupboard and goes for a late night drive instead.

When he gets home, he gathers the stuff Evan had left around over the course of the last six months - clothes, a phone charger, aftershave. He packs them into a box with his key to the loft, thinking about how he never used it unless he got there before Evan, thinking about all the lines he drew without even realising it. He tucks his heating pad in between two of Evan's shirts - Tommy doesn't get much use out of it anyway, and Evan always loved it on days when his leg flared up. Hopefully they can write it off as an oversight on his part, but he wants Evan to have it.

The conversation with Eddie is painfully awkward. Tommy doesn't dare to ask how Evan is doing, and Eddie doesn't need to ask Tommy how he is; it's written all over his face. He hasn't been sleeping, hasn't been working out. He hasn't been drinking either, but only because his self-imposed rules about when he's allowed to drink forbid it.

"Don't be a stranger," Eddie says as he's leaving. 

Tommy knows he will be. Enough time, enough distance, and he'll be a stranger to them all all over again. He'll be a memory for Evan for a while, but give it long enough, and he'll be a memory he doesn't remember. It'll be okay. It'll all be okay.

—

The third message comes a few weeks later. Tommy's out on another aimless drive - he doesn't love spending time at home anymore. He knows it'll get better, but for now, he's spending pretty much all his waking hours in his car, at the gym, and at work. Like the very first message, he stays in the cab of the truck when he listens to this one. He's glad he managed to put off listening until he got home because this - this is the one that devastates him.

"Hey, Tommy. It's Evan. Well, Buck, I guess."

Evan's drunk, and Tommy should stop listening to the message right now, for his own sanity, and for Evan's dignity come the morning. But his voice…

"I'm real glad I didn't break your heart, Tommy." It sounds mean, sharp, so un-Evan, but it's followed by a silence, and then, "I am. I actually am." There's another silence, a sniffle. "Wish you didn't break mine, but… whatever. Be safe, Tommy."

In the cab of his truck, clasping his phone so hard he's distantly a little worried he might crack the screen, Tommy cries for the first time.

—

There's a month and a half of silence after that, and he hopes that means Evan is moving on. Tommy gets back home from a failed attempt to visit an old hook-up spot and get out of his head for the night. He's had a few drinks because it didn't break the rules (it wasn't a bad shift, he wasn't alone and okay, yes, he's sad, but if he sticks religiously to that rule he might never know the simple pleasure of a cold beer ever again), but he's not drunk enough for it to cushion the blow when he flops down on his cold bed and hits play.

"Hey, uh. Happy birthday, Tommy. I hope you had a good day."

He didn't.

—

A month later.

"I went on a date tonight. It was with a woman though, so I'm gonna guess I'm still not queer the right way for you, huh? Fuck you, Tommy. My date fucking sucked."

Tommy feels about two feet tall, and like that's exactly how he deserves to feel. His thumb hovers over the block button for less than a second - he owes Evan the outlet, and that awful, scared little masochist that lives in the heart of him won't turn down the opportunity to let Evan's voice claw at him every chance he gets.

—

He tells himself he's not going to listen to the next message that comes through, but he's briefly very glad he does.

"Hey, Tommy. I wanted you to know - Maddie and Chim are having another baby. It's past three months so they're telling people now. I, uh - I just wanted you to know. Um." Abruptly, Evan sounds on the verge of tears. "I miss you, you dick. I wanted that with you. Fuck."

And then he's back to feeling crushed. It wouldn't have worked out. It wouldn't have. But he's sorry that Evan's still hurting. His own hurt is - it's just the baseline of his existence turned up a little louder than usual. It'll pass.

He tells himself that every day, every hour, every minute. It'll pass, it'll pass, it'll pass.

Howie texts him the same news later that day. Tommy thinks the message he sends back is perfectly normal, but Howie shows up at his door that night with a six pack of beer and that annoyingly perceptive air about him that makes Tommy feel seen and unsafe in the exact same way it has since the day they met.

The first beer, they talk about the pregnancy in light ways. Howie's excited. Maddie's perfect. Jee's ecstatic. Tommy's happy for them.

The second beer, Howie talks about how scared he is. How they have set ground rules and they're sticking to them, but he's walking through the world with a little core of fear inside him. Tommy almost cries.

The third beer, Howie asks how he's doing. Tommy does cry. Just a little, and he turns his face away quick enough that Howie doesn't see. He still knows, though.

"He leaves me these voicemails," Tommy says, and he sounds wrecked even to his own ears. "I know I don't - I don't have the right to miss him, but it - "

"Tommy."

"It hurts, Howie."

"I know, bud," Howie says, his hand on the back of Tommy's neck, a rough squeeze.. "I know."

—

The next message is the beginning of the end of it all. Tommy's actually had a - not terrible day. He flew four times, the sky was perfect, the calls went well. They had really good tacos for lunch at the station. 

The message is waiting for him when he gets home. Evan sounds - subdued.

"Hey, Tommy. Listen, I'm gonna - I'm gonna stop calling. I'm - you hurt me. You really, really hurt me. But I think I might be hurting you too, still, and I hate that, even if I'm mad at you. I'm really mad at you, and I think - I think I'm just gonna stay mad at you unless something changes. So I'd - I'd like to see you. Talk. Say - some things. Say goodbye. It's okay if you don't want to. But I'd like to. Let me know if you wanna. And if not, then, I don't know. Bye, I guess."

Bye, I guess. 

Tommy hesitates for less time than he'd like to admit. Maybe he can just ignore this one like he has all the others (is ignore the right word if they have become the constant background soundtrack to his waking hours and woven themselves into his dreams?) and Evan will be as good as his word - stop calling, stay mad, hate Tommy, but move on from him.

But it's Evan, and he's asking for something from Tommy, and the one and only time Tommy turned him down for something he really wanted, he hurt them both so bad. The least he owes Evan - the very least - is closure. And if it drives the shards of heartbreak deeper into Tommy then, hey, whatever, he's pretty sure those shards are a feature not a bug, by this point.

He navigates to their message thread, carefully doesn't look at the most recent communications - a silly joke, a heart, a can't wait to see you - and tries to find the words to reply.

—

It's not somewhere they've ever been before, and Tommy feels like that was probably deliberate on Evan's part. Still, the scene is so familiar it makes Tommy's steps falter. Evan, at a table in the sunshine, two coffee cups in front of him. He looks beautiful. He looks nervous. He looks tired. He's chosen a table away from any of the other patrons.

Part of Tommy wants to run. The rest of him knows he owes Evan the bravery he couldn't give him all those months ago, and he approaches the table, hands in his pockets.

Evan looks up, smiles like it's a reflex, but it falls away from his face like he's remembered he's mad at Tommy.

"Thanks for coming."

Tommy shrugs. "Of course."

[muniimyg]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . pov!jk . ۫ ꣑ৎ . — [ 3 . ] hello ?

series m.list // taglist unavailable

friends to ???

slow burn is burning

accidental late night phone call

note: thank u for all the love w this jk ! i'm excited to keep this series going ,, i found my motivation for bad habit so i'll be back updating my main bitch this weekend LOL !!! mwah

//

you don’t mean to call him.

you’re lying on your bed with your laptop half-shut beside you, blinking at a google doc full of nothing, your brain fried from rewriting the same sentence in twelve different ways. your thumb slips over your screen—maybe on purpose, maybe not—and suddenly the phone is ringing.

and then he answers.

“hello?”

“oh. hi… s-sorry—”

“you do realize it’s 2am, right?”

his voice is rough with sleep but still amused. you close your eyes. maybe you should hang up. pretend it was an accident. but the sound of him, the way he doesn’t sound annoyed, stops you.

“i didn’t mean to call,” you say softly.

“sure,” he says, a yawn tucked between the syllables. “is this the part where we hang up then?”

you smile a little. 

god. 

this is so stupid… but his voice makes you feel at ease. you’ll take anything to feel more of it. 

he exhales through the phone. you can hear sheets rustling. maybe he’s lying on his back, one arm over his head, blinking at the ceiling the way you are.

“what’s up?” he asks, not pushing. just there. 

you hesitate and he waits.

“i’ve been… stressed,” you say finally.

“no kidding. you ghosted so hard the group thought you died.” he lets out a small chuckle, trying to mask his concern. yet, his words beat him to it. “everything okay?”

you let out a breath of a laugh.

“i’ve been working on something.”

“more school?” he asks. “aren’t you a part of like… every club here?”

“no,” you correct him. “it’s something else.”

there’s a silence. not heavy. just… expectant. as the moment lingers, you trace the edge of your blanket with your finger. your voice comes quieter this time, like if you say it too loud, it’ll disappear.

“jungkook?”

“mm?”

“i applied to a master’s program in australia.”

he doesn’t say anything for a second.

then, “wait—what?”

“yeah.”

“like… australia australia?”

“yeah.”

his voice sharpens, half-awake now. “yo. that’s—great. i’m happy for you. what did misa say about australia—”

“she does’t know.”

“misa doesn’t know? your best friend in the world and roommate… doesn’t know?”

“no,” you answer him, feeling a little choked up. 

“why not?”

you pause.

“i don’t know. maybe i didn’t want to jinx it. or maybe i thought… if i said it out loud, it wouldn’t happen. and i’m scared. i guess that’s the bigger part. she’s gonna believe in me and then i’m going to get my hopes up and then—”

another pause.

“i don’t know. i… y-you’re the first person i’ve told.”

he’s quiet again. and then—soft, sincere:

“i’m honored.”

something in your chest tightens. and then he says, quieter:

“but also, like. a little bummed.”

you blink. “why?”

“cos you’re gonna get in,” he says, like it’s obvious. “and then you’re gonna go.”

you smile. it’s the kind of smile that aches.

“i haven’t even gotten a response yet. i don’t expect to hear back for a few months.”

“doesn’t matter,” he says, confident. “you’re gonna get it.”

you sigh. “i don’t know.”

you roll onto your side, tugging the blanket higher over your shoulder.

“honestly… i keep asking myself if i’m even good enough,” you admit. “like… do i deserve this? what if i get in and mess it up? what if i’m not ready? it was hard enough leaving home and moving in with misa. my parents made that such a dramatic change… and my brother—god, i’d miss him too much. i’m only a car ride away from them right now… what happens when i’m halfway across the world? when i’m an airplane ticket to save up for? when i’m—w-what if i don’t come back? i…feel so guilty for even applying. ”

jungkook doesn’t interrupt. he doesn’t jump to fix it. he just listens. and then, with that same calm, collected tone:

“you’re in you’re head, kid. but also, i don’t think you’re asking yourself the right questions.”

you frown. “what am i supposed to ask?”

“do you want it?”

you go still.

your heart beats louder in the quiet.

“do you want to leave? you could easily get into the master program here, but only if you want it. you’re allowed to worry and feel guilty—but you should also allow yourself to want things and to have them. this is a good thing, ___. i want you to have it if you want it… only if you want it.”

his words strike you. they shift your perception in the slightest way and crack open a piece of you that you didn’t think needed any attention on. 

“…yeah,” you say, after a breath. “i do. so bad.”

he hums. “then it’s yours.”

“you can’t just say that like it’s that simple.”

“it is,” he says. “or at least… it should be.”

you don’t answer.

because the thing is—he says it like it’s already decided. like the wanting is enough. and coming from him, it almost feels true.

your voice is small when you continue to vent. 

“i’ve been running around like a psycho trying to gather references, build out extra work, cram every ‘look at me, i’m worth it’ thing i can into my portfolio.”

he makes a sound. not quite a laugh. not quite a sigh. “you’ve always been worth it.”

your throat tightens.

you press your face into your pillow and mumble, “you’re annoying.”

“you called me.”

you huff. “by accident.”

“sure.”

he lets the silence sit again. it’s comforting, the way he fills space without taking it.

and in that quiet, your thoughts start to settle. not disappear, not solve themselves—but settle. the way they do when someone is holding them with you. not telling you to be stronger. not telling you to be less afraid. just sitting beside the fear like it doesn’t make you weaker.

you think, not for the first time, that jungkook is dangerous in that way. not because he overwhelms you—but because he doesn’t. because he lets you take up space, even when you don’t want to.

you murmur, “thank you.”

“for what?”

“just… being the first person who knows.”

[pazziiiiiiii]

Hey guys so I’m gonna make this a series that may be long but that depends if you guys like it or not so could you guys keep telling me your opinions please!!

I don't really know if I like this I kinda rushed it out very very quickly and didn't really edit is so yeah idk lmk. It's starting to get to the actual stuff in the story not just background I guess but thanks for the feedback keep it coming please.

Word count: Like 1.7k

PART 2

2020 Quarantine

Paige knew she shouldn’t have pushed Azzi away. She knows it messes with her head even more than she does herself. But what was she supposed to do? Tell Azzi how she fought with her dad because she’s gay? Tell her that it’s because she likes Azzi and her dad knows? Obviously not! So keeping it to herself was the better thing to do in that situation.

But after being on the roof for hours, Paige finally calmed herself down. However because she was up there for so long, she was running on about 2 hours of sleep while hopping on a flight.

Leaving the house was not very difficult at all. Her dad wasn’t awake so all she had to do was pack a suitcase full of sweats and basketball gear (literally nothing else was needed) and catch an Uber. Regardless of whether her dad was awake or not, it wouldn’t have made a difference if Paige stayed or not.

The flight was only about 4 hours and Paige spent the entirety of it sleeping. Too tired to worry about how Azzi and her haven’t texted the whole morning, something they haven’t done since they met each other.

Once the plane was landed in Washington, Paige texted Katie to let her know she was ready to be picked up. As soon as she got a reply telling Paige they were on their way, the nerves began to settle in again.

She didn’t know what to expect. She loved the Fudd’s they were the best family she has ever been apart of. But the thought of actually spending every second of everyday with the girl she was quickly falling in love with, but having to hide it from everyone around her. Yeah that did not sound as exciting.

Paige was forced to put all of this aside as her phone buzzed, Katie letting her know Tim and her were outside. She had to bury her emotions deep inside her like always, as she walked towards the exit.

As soon as Katie saw Paige, she was pulled into a long, warm hug that Paige never wanted to let go of. It felt safe, comforting. Like she would never leave her.

“Ahh Paige we have missed you so much! How was your flight?” Katie asked, finally letting go so Paige could switch to hugging Tim instead.

“It was good, I was knocked out the whole time so I don’t really remember much.” Paige replied as they all slid into the car, putting her suitcase in the trunk.

“That’s good. I know when we get home Azzi and the boys will be so excited to see you!” Tim said while they began the short drive home.

“Yeah it’s gonna be so good staying here. Thankyou so much for letting me stay here.” Paige replied warmly, her nerves settling as she became more comfortable in the car.

“Of course! You are welcome anytime, we love having you here. And I know Azzi would love you to stay for ever!” Katie said, making the whole car laugh.

Although Paige and Azzi ended their call last night on rocky terms, Paige knew that wouldn’t last long once they saw each other in real life.

The car ride went quickly, the conversation continuing with life updates about basketball and everything else. The talking only stopping when they pulled into the driveway, all three stepping out of the car, eager to see the reactions of the people inside.

All three of them has agreed to unlock the door quietly and sneak Paige in to jump out and surprise Azzi. So that is what they did.

When the door unlocked they walked in slowly, noticing Azzi sitting on the living room couch. They were out of view from her, so they made their way in to the kitchen.

“Ok, we will call Azzi in and then you jump out when she gets here.” Tim said in a hushed tone, careful not to get the attention of the younger girl on the couch on the other side of the wall. Paige nodded her head, ducking behind the door into the kitchen Azzi would enter from.

“Azzi can you come in here really quick!” Katie called out.

“Yep, coming,” she said making her way in while she added, “I’m just tryna figure out why Paige isn’t texting me.” Saying this in a worried voice Paige knew all too well, making Paige silently chuckle behind the door.

Just as she entered through the door frame and Paige caught sight of her brown curls pulled into a high bun, she launched onto her, wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug.

Azzi gasped at the surprising contact. But when she turned around and saw who it was, she immediately gave the hug back, shocked at who was next to her.

“OH MY GOSH PAIGE!” She screamed, squeezing her tighter as if she may disappear in her arms. “You’re here! You’re actually here!” She added taking a step back to look her in the eye.

“Yes I’m really here. And I’m gonna be for the whole of quarantine.” Paige replied.

As soon as Azzi heard these words she wrapped her back in a hug, even tighter then the one before.

The next few hours when by quickly. Paige catching up with the Fudd’s and unpacking her stuff in Azzi’s room. Katie and offered for Paige to stay in the guest room, however, she knew the answer would be no, considering how Paige stayed with Azzi every time she visited.

The night had come around and Paige and Azzi were in their room. They had obviously been hovering around the topic of what happened the night before, and Azzi had had enough. Paige was acting weird around her whenever they got too close, and, of course, Azzi noticed it straight away.

She saw how Paige tensed up when Azzi hugged her at the start of the day. How her jaw tightened as soon as one of her family members asked how her dad was. How she avoided eye contact with Azzi like her eyes were poison. How she was sitting in their room right now, playing with the little string on the bottom of her hoodie (pretending to be busy), not speaking to Azzi.

"Ok bro, what is up with you. Seriously." Azzi said, the sentence coming out a little harsher than she wanted it to be.

Paige looked up for her hands, shocked to here Azzi speaking so suddenly, but still not quite making eye contact. She opened her mouth to reply but Azzi got there before she could.

"Don't just say your fine. I know you, I know when somethings wrong. You have to tell me, it's not good for you to keep it bottled up inside." Azzi added, her tone still firm.

Paige didn't know how to explain what she was feeling, how to tell her best friend in front of her what happened with her dad. But for the first time that day, she looked into the brown eyes staring back at her.

After a couple minutes Paige started.

"I just had a fight with my dad. He just..." She paused, unsure how to continue on with this sentence.

Azzi waited for her, knowing that Paige just needed to gather her thoughts, she would say something eventually. She just needed silence to think over, so that is was she gave to her. Until Paige began again.

"He just said some things that...that hurt. He doesn't understand me and that's the problem. He doesn't know how to accept things that he disagrees with. So he told me they were wrong, that I can't live with him if I decide to do something about them. And they are wrong, I know." Paige picked up her pace every word she said, struggling to think clearly as her eyes pricked with tears that were fighting to get out.

She looked down at her hands again, unable to hold eye contact anymore. Azzi knew this meant Paige was done and she wouldn't say anything else unless forced. So she reached over and placed a hand over Paige's.

"You need to tell me what happened P, I'm sure they are not what he is saying they are." Azzi said softly, much different compared to her forcing tone not long ago.

"No Azzi, they are. He is right, so please just stop. I am fine."

She knew all the words she was saying were lies. Her dad wasn't right. She was not fine. But she couldn't let Azzi know any of it. Even if she knew Azzi could see right through her. Which she did.

But she didn't push Paige. She knew she wouldn't let up, so she had to accept what she had been told.

"Ok P. But please just tell me if you need me, I am always right here. And I will be for a while cause your living with me," she said lightly before squeezing her hand and adding, "I'm gonna have a shower, it's getting a little late, I'll be quick," before heading into the bathroom, leaving Paige on her bed.

Paige didn't get much sleep that night. Her mind would not stop racing with thoughts on how she was going to fix the situation she was in (also the fact that she was lying right next to her the girl she now was in love with).

But she only knew one thing. That she was going to get rid of this little crush on Azzi. Even if it meant being weird around her for a couple weeks.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

the albatross, here to destroy you (a.d.)

Pairing: art donaldson x popstar!reader

Summary: three years, three encounters. First, a chance meeting between two rising stars seeking an escape leaves a handprint on their hearts.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: smoking, language, greek mythology references, hella unresolved sexual tension(!!!), art is highkey a baby and lowkey a brat lol, did i mention unresolved sexual tension?, sooo much pining

Notes: this idea has consumed my waking days for weeks. I contemplated making it a really long fic, but after a long and careful consideration, I have decided to make it a trilogy! Two reasons; a) it’s gonna be really long, and b) I wanted to put Art’s look as a reference in each part lmao. Big up to @ysuftmikey and @tommysparker for being awesome and hearing out my incoherent rambles about this story. But anyway, please comment, reblog, talk to me and tell me what you think about it! Happy reading!

**i do not have a taglist. Follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass andd turn on the notifications to be alerted for new fics and updates!**

Part One: London, July 2011.

It was quite an impressive feat. 23-year-old American rising star Art Donaldson had miraculously beat the defending champion-slash-legend Rafael Nadal at the Wimbledon final.

Or so they said.

You don’t know, nor do you care much, to be quite honest. You were basically ordered to attend by your publicist, outfits picked out, hair and makeup team on full throttle only to have you sit pretty on the side of the Centre Court. And now, after milling around and halfheartedly mingling at the afterparty, you decide to give yourself some respite and slip away to the balcony.

“Oh, shit—” the man quickly turns back and stubs his cigarette on the railing, waving away any trace of smoke.

(You say man in a very broad term. He looks more like a teenage boy with that messy blond mop and skittish way about him.)

You raise your hands, showing no threat. “Sorry. Didn’t realize this balcony was taken.”

“Wait, no. Please.” He stops. He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. The only thing more embarrassing than getting caught smoking was getting caught smoking by a pretty girl. And pretty is… a fucking gross understatement, based on what he was seeing. “Don’t leave on my account.”

“You sure?”

You flash him that soft, understanding smile and he very nearly asks you not to leave, like ever. But fortunately, he’s got enough game to hold his tongue and smile back at you, “There’s more than enough room for both of us here, right?”

Technically, the balcony is big enough for the two of you to stand on opposite corners without even addressing each other. But his fingers are resting on a pack of Marlboro Green, and you bite the inside of your cheek thoughtfully. “And more than enough cigarettes, I hope?”

He’s not sure what he was hoping for, but he sure is surprised to hear you accept his invitation to stay. Gosh, he must’ve looked like an idiot right now. “Sure, of course.”

He slides a cigarette out of the pack as he offers it to you, readily leaning in with his zippo. For a split second, the two of you share a breath in the space that he encloses with one hand as he lights your cigarette. You would be lying if it didn’t make your heart stutter.

“So…” you inhale, taking the nicotine hit to calm your thoughts, “I thought smoking was bad for athletes.”

“I thought smoking was bad for singers too, but I guess it’s less frowned upon, huh?” He murmurs, trying to balance a fresh cigarette off of the side of his lips, smirking at you over the flicker of flame he started.

“Touché.” You lean your back against the railing. It’s an interesting game of chess you’re playing. Each of your reputations precede you and don’t at the same time. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re out here smoking on your own, instead of in there…” Celebrating is left unsaid, although the implied word hangs in big and bold letters.

“Ah well, maybe this is my way of celebrating. We’re allowed one vice every now and again, right?”

You look at him like it’s a bullshit excuse—and it is.

“This is gonna sound insane, but…” he takes a drag, looking out at the landscape before him, “I don’t feel like I should be celebrating.”

You look at him like that bullshit excuse grew a new head.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I worked hard for it and I’m glad it paid off, but…” he flicks the ash on the end of his cigarette three times. “I could’ve been better. Quicker. Won more points earlier. Beat him faster. And until I can do that, I don’t think I deserve a celebration just yet.”

You hum softly. “Sounds like you’re making a Sisyphus out of yourself. That can’t be fun.”

His mouth tugs into a crooked smile, not expecting to be called out like this. “I mean, at least I’m not rolling a boulder up a hill. I’d take tennis over that any day.”

“Yeah, but it seems like tennis is your boulder up a hill.”

“Touché.” He smiles bashfully as he takes a long drag. And then, he offers his hand. “I’m Art Donaldson, by the way.”

It’s a formality at this point. He knows who you are, heard your songs on the radio and saw your face on billboards more times than he can count. Hell, he saw you on the stands in your little Dior sunglasses earlier—and you saw him looking, just for a moment, sweat dripping down his perfect nose and all. But out of courtesy, you tell him your name and accept his handshake.

You pull your hand away, and he almost groans in protest. But again, he holds his horses. “Alright, I’ll bite. If I’m Sisyphus, what does that make you?”

“Oh, definitely Dionysus. Living on wine and theater and good vibes.” You’ve got that shit locked and loaded. It’s obvious that you’ve thought of this before.

“Is that so?” He chuckles. “Well… as long as you don’t sacrifice me to the maenads, right?”

“Can’t promise you that,” you quip back, tapping the gray off of your remaining cigarette. Pleasantly surprised that he doesn’t make the obnoxious remark that Dionysus is also the god of sex, as boys would do. Even more so that he knows enough to know the difference between the sirens and the maenads.

There’s no fighting the raging flush in his cheeks anymore, but he just hopes you would spare him. “Will you at least promise to make it swift?”

It comes out faster than a trainwreck, but without even blinking, the one thing that comes out of your mouth is, “What if I wanna take my time with you?”

Fuck.

The party carries on inside, although Stevie Wonder’s ‘My Cherie Amour’ sounds a mile away. His cigarette smoke comes out in a stuttered huff, as he looks away, not knowing what to do with himself. Eventually, though, he recovers, taking another drag. “It wouldn’t be a terrible way to go, huh?”

“I suppose not.” You sigh into a smile, exuding a flume of smoke through your nose. Shit, he doesn’t know which one is hotter; that, or the lipstick mark on your filter. Or the pensive look as you watch the party through the window.

Oh, he’s down bad.

“So, Dionysus…” he leans out against the railing, flicking ash off his stub one, two, three. “What brings you out here? You a tennis fan?”

“Me? Oh, no. No, I… don’t even really understand how it worked until today,” you admit bashfully. Somehow the truth doesn’t feel so embarrassing, even though you spent the day lying through your teeth. “Not until I saw you play. Which… congrats, by the way.”

“Wow. Thanks.” He’s not sure whether it’s the earnestness in your congratulations, or the fact that the game finally makes sense because of him, but his heart grows three sizes.

“But, yeah, no, my publicist dragged me here kicking and screaming.”

“So you were forced into a party, huh? That’s not very Dionysian of you…” He muses playfully, and those lines on each side of his lips aching to break out into a full smile. And they do. And it warms your heart that those smile lines only emphasizes the way his face lights up. “Nah, I get what you mean. My agent had to drag me out of the locker room to make an ‘appearance.’”

“Yeah, she said something about… shifting into a classier, more grownup image?”

“By watching a couple of dudes hit a ball with a racket?”

“By sitting there and looking pretty. It’s the only reason I’m all decked out in this ridiculous fucking thing,” you look down at your outfit with a grumble. Of all the days you could’ve run into someone cute, you’re in a fucking pantsuit like some middle-aged politician.

“But you do look pretty,” he replies without even blinking.

“Thanks, it’s Ralph Lauren.” You smile faux sweetly. “I believe I’m contractually obligated to say that.”

“Still pretty,” and he means it, lackadaisical smile and all. The ivory cape-like blazer is an interesting cut that goes down to your knees, and it makes you look regal. The cut of the pants makes your legs go for miles. It certainly doesn’t hurt that your off-white shirt is unbuttoned halfway, showing a generous amount of cleavage.

(And hey, he’s still a guy. Can you blame him?)

He has this way of looking at you. Like he’s studying you. It would’ve been unsettling, if he weren’t so fucking beautiful to look at and you don’t mind an excuse to stare back and admire the angular lines on his face. Like Apollo in the moonlight. “What?”

Art taps his cigarette much more deliberately and inhales, exhales out of the side of his mouth, much more deliberately this time. “I think you’re more Aphrodite than Dionysus.”

You take another drag. “How so?”

“First of all, for a god of parties, you don’t like to party all that much,” he grins knowingly, smugly, like he’s proud to have figured you out. But his smile softens, and there’s intensity behind his eyes. “And because you’re beautiful. And dangerous.”

Your mouth twists, pausing for a long moment. To calm yourself. To gather yourself. “But it’s so cliched, though…”

“Well, who would you rather be? Medusa, maybe?” He turns his body, leaning on his side against the railing so he’s fully facing you, and you can’t help but mirror his position.

You raise a forefinger pointedly, French manicured nails on display. “Hey. I think Medusa gets a bad rep. Neptune fucked her over, but she was the one cursed.”

“And what, you think you’re as cursed as Medusa, too?”

You shrug, maybe.

Despite the weight of your answer, he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. “There’s no way you’re cursed. A curse wouldn’t be so beautiful.”

“But a curse could be deceiving, no?”

“Or maybe it’s a matter of perspective. Maybe you think you’re cursed, even when you might not necessarily be.”

“Oh, just like you’re so inclined to keep pushing your boulder up a hill?”

Art blinks, and sucks his teeth bashfully. Just when he thought he’s got you figured out… Check and mate. “You know, if I didn’t know you any better, I would’ve thought you were some kind of an oracle. Like Cassandra.”

Your eyebrows raise in interest.

“You have this strange, unnerving ability to see right through me. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve had a few drinks, or you’re just very observant, but…” he trails off thoughtfully and then nods like he’s made up his mind. “Cassandra.”

“Cassandra,” you echo quietly. “I like that.”

“Mm-hm. I’d say it’s a very fitting title for you.”

That fond little glint in his eyes is becoming a staple in the way he looks at you. And you don’t ever wanna see it dim. So you speak up again, leaning in conspiratorially. “You wanna hear something funny?”

“What?”

“My parents almost named me Cassandra.”

His jaw drops, dumbstruck. “Shut the fuck up.” His grandmother would have smacked him on the back of his head, knowing the profanity he uses (to a girl he likes, no less). But out of all the things he tried to figure out about her, he never expected to get this one right.

“I shit you not.” You watch him double down laughing, grinning to yourself. “Freaky coincidence, right?”

“Or the Fates working overtime. I’m sure they’d be laughing at us right now.” He looks up at the deep blue sky with a shake of the head.

You wave at the stars, taking a mock bow to your invisible audience. “Thank you. Glad you’re enjoying the show, guys.” The laughter lingers on your lips, and you wonder if it tastes the same on his. “We really are just the court jesters, huh?”

He nods. “Although I wouldn’t mind playing the fool for you.” Maybe it’s the drinks or the cigarettes or the unlikeliest conversation with the most stunning creature he has ever laid eyes on, but at one point, his inhibitions are starting to leave him.

It’s now or never.

The dubious smile that comes out of you is involuntary. He can’t be serious, right? “You are so full of shit, aren’t you?”

“You don’t believe me?”

You look at him like, obviously.

“What are you gonna do, punish me for lying?” There’s that glint again, the bite against the inside of your cheek, and Art steps in.

Your heart catches. He doesn’t feel much like a boy now, inches away from you with a disarming look, his intentions crystal clear. And your head drops for a moment with a wry smile. “You can’t say that to me...”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Because? His grin widens, because for the first time this whole evening, he’s got the upper hand. And he likes it.

“I…” You blink at him, finding yourself cornered. Thankfully, though, your phone comes to the rescue, buzzing in your pocket and popping the tension between you and Art like a balloon. “I’m sorry, do you mind if I—”

“Yeah, sure.” he backs away a step, flashing an understanding smile. He watches you pick up the phone, looking out at the London sky. He would swear up and down that he didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He just loves to watch you gnaw at your lower lip in thought, study your moonbathed profile.

Listen to the sweet, sweet sound of your voice.

“Hi… no, I’m still at the— yeah. I’m not sure… are you still with…? Oh, good. Good, just checking. Say hi to everyone for me... Yeah, I’ll call you when I get back?” You catch Art’s gaze, and your stomach drops as you hear the dreaded words on the line. But again, you’re backed away into a corner. So you look away and say it back, “I love you, too. Bye.”

There it is.

Art really should’ve known this. He should’ve seen it coming. You were way too good to be true, but that doesn’t stop him from getting disappointed. No, his heart breaks on the spot, and he’s pretty sure you can hear it.

(You can’t. But you can see it in his face.)

The silence is awkward. It’s ugly. The steady sounds of cars passing by on the ground feels like it’s right in front of you. For the longest time, the two of you can only look out onto the horizon. Anxiously tracing the outlines of skyscrapers in sight.

He is reeling, like he’s been shaken awake from a dream. “So, I take it you’re taken, huh?”

The look you give him is apologetic, and it kills you as much as it destroys him. “Yeah.”

Art rubs at his jaw like he’s willing himself to say something, anything. “I see you’ve cursed me, then.”

“What?”

It takes him a moment to gather his words. Put together his thoughts in a way that you would understand. He didn’t mean it to sound so damning, but it’s the first thing that comes out. It feels like taking a boulder out of his throat. “By making me like you.”

Oh.

Your face falls. Of course. How cruel of you to play his game, knowing you’re setting him up to lose. “I’m sorry. I never meant to…”

“No, no. I’m not blaming you, I swear,” he quickly interjects. “It’s… not your fault one of us is a fool.” He smiles ruefully at nothing.

“It’s a shame,” you quietly admit.

And even then he can’t be mad at you. Not from the way he looks at you oh so tenderly. “It’s a real shame, love.”

There are no words, no more witty remarks. They’ve all been exhausted out of you. There’s nothing left to exchange but that soft look of resignation. Of defeat.

Of wishful thinking.

The cigarettes have long died out and forgotten, only the filters left between your fingers. Your ashes fall in a big chunk on the railing, while Art’s… have free-dived and dispersed in the muggy night air.

“I should go.” Your voice comes out in a whisper. “Let you go back to your party.”

Art can only nod. He keeps his mouth shut, not trusting himself enough to not beg you to stay.

You reach out, almost pulling back, but you can’t help it. Even if it’s just a nothing hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Art.”

He covers your hand in his, just for a second. His thumb caressing the back of your hand. His heart is in pieces, but at least he will have this. If nothing else, he will still know how your hand feels in his.

And just as quickly as it happens, it ends. Art doesn’t dare watch you leave. He misses your touch instantly, and the sound of your footsteps, and the door opening and closing follows. As Al Green’s ‘What Am I Gonna Do With Myself’ plays on in the party, Art looks out towards the London sky and lights another cigarette.

[resident-dumb-fuck]

richard iii dashboard simulator. i thought it would be funny and here we are

🐗halfhearteddickjoke

what if i caused problems on purpose <3

0 notes

🐗halfhearteddickjoke

oh no... i cant believe the king is having my brother killed... oh noooo

#FUCK YOU GEORGE

3 notes

💥ladyanne Follow

man i miss my husband and father in law

🐗halfhearteddickjoke

hey

💥ladyanne

shut the fuck up you literally killed them??? get off my post

🐗halfhearteddickjoke

can i try rizzing you up

💥ladyanne

um. sure?

🐗halfhearteddickjoke

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE

💥ladyanne

i can't believe i'm saying this but this is kind of working.

🧍‍♂️gentleman-retainer

anyone else in this thread smoke weed

958 notes

🌹lancaster-official Follow

you all suck.

@/elizabeth-woodville your son will die and you will be deposed and youre gonna die SAD and ALONE.

@/river-severn @/dorset-sheep and @/billhastings you're gonna get executed

@/halfhearteddickjoke hm. FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU. nobody hang out with this conniving bitch i hate him i hate him so much and i am three seconds away from killing him constantly.

🐦fuckinghim Follow

get off tumblr margaret we're in court

🌹lancaster-official

he's not gonna want you as his boytoy forever

🐦fuckinghim

WE'RE NOT EVEN IN A RELATIONSHIP??????

🌹lancaster-official

i've seen you talk to him. i know what you are

5000 notes

🗼mr-london-tower Follow

just heard george duke of clarence say "snork mimi" aloud i'm gonna [remembers that suicide jokes do nothing for my mental health] request to be moved away from guarding his cell

🗼mr-london-tower

update: so it turns out the malmsey wine is unusable, for related reasons to this man.

#fuckin. dead body in the malmsey. cant have nice things around here #i hate my job so bad

94 notes

eddie-baby-deactivated

yayyy everybody is friends now :)

🐗halfhearted-dick-joke

dude you literally killed clarence??? you cant be having other people making friends youre a murderer

eddie-baby-deactivated

WHAT THE FUCK I THOUGHT I CANCELED THAT ORDER???

🐗halfhearted-dick-joke

you killed that guy man what the fuck. you cant be doing that

764 notes

👗elizabeth-woodville Follow

I regret to inform you all that the king has died.

5 notes

✨cecily-not-sicily Follow

dude my sons GOTTA stop dying. this is so fucked.

3 notes

🐗halfhearteddickjoke

i do so love to cause problems on purpose :)

#sorry to any family members of lords rivers, vaughan, and grey. um. you will not be seeing them anymore! <3

1285 notes

🐦fuckinghim Follow

preteens are so scary for no reason??? had to interact with two for work and like. they suck so bad. "i fear no uncles dead" shut the fuck up you smartass little shit. also had to explain to them the history of the tower of london which. i don't fucking know that shit! i don't know who built the tower of london! it sure as fuck wasn't julius caesar!

7 notes

#️⃣billhastings Follow

SOMEONE has got to stop waking me up in the middle of the night to hear their dreams

#️⃣billhastings

oh what the fuck.

607 notes

🍓bishop-ely Follow

crazy day at work today

#never go outside to get strawberries worst mistake of my life #came back in the room and they were accusing hastings of witchcraft. like sure yeah i guess

20 notes

🐦fuckinghim Follow

richard duke of gloucester should be king because not only are edward v and richard duke of york illegitimate but also so was edward iv. also richard duke of gloucester is just. kind of an all around good guy! as opposed to edward iv who ah. how do i put this in a manner that isn't horribly offensive. yeah okay figured it out. not a great person! unpleasant to be around!

also if you wanna know what was up with hastings he was a traitor don't worry about it.

954 notes

💥ladyanne Follow

RICHARD. RICHARD WHEN I CATCH YOU RICHARD. WHAT DO YOU MEAN KING OF ENGLAND

2 notes

🐦fuckinghim Follow

shit dude that one vine wasn't lying. what the fuck richard

#i have to leave immediately. jesus fucking christ man.

500 notes

🐗halfhearteddickjoke

yay king of england :) i will be very good at this i feel

#everybody's always like "what the fuck richard you can't kill two kids" or "why would you do that" and never like "was it fun having those preteens killed. it looked fun"

0 notes

🌹lancaster-official Follow

@/halfhearteddickjoke FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

submitted by @/elizabeth-woodville

90 notes

🐗halfhearteddickjoke

wow everything is going so bad. what the entire shit @/fuckinghim

2 notes

🐦fuckinghim Follow

ughhh margaret was right. NOT ABOUT THE BOYTOY THING

307 notes

®️henry-twoder-or-something Follow

hi ive been here the whole time. ive done the math and i do technically have a claim to the throne :)

83 notes

🐗halfhearteddickjoke

i cant believe im saying this but i did just have an ebenezer scrooge moment. god i hate it here.

#maybe i am a bad person

54 notes

®️henry-twoder-or-something Follow

wow richard has died :) i cant believe i am the king now! yayyyy

2 notes

🚣‍♂️resident-dumb-fuck Follow

final message from op! sorry everyone. im so annoying about this forever

[alltimecharlo]

Oh, for a fic request, an ageswap where Mack has been Captain for a few years, and he's great but his temper is kind of legendary, and then Will joins the team, this bright, shiny rookie who doesn't seem intimidated by his new captain and rest of the team are like, hmm guess we're sacrificing this kid to settle Mack down. That's his emotional support rookie!

oh anon!!! this definitely deserves to be a whole ao3 fic in its own right but for now i humbly offer this!! fic under the cut :)🩵

[update: this is now a full-length ao3 fic!]

Mack’s known for a lot of things. His shot, his skating, his hits. The C stitched to his chest like it was put there the day he was born. And, maybe most of all, his temper.

It’s not mean, not really. He doesn’t fight for the sake of fighting, doesn’t go after anyone who doesn’t deserve it. But when he sees red, he sees red, and the whole team knows to stay out of his way. He’s loyal, fierce, and honest to a fault, and it’s made him one hell of a captain. But no one would exactly call him warm.

So when Will joins the team, just out of college, grinning and shiny-eyed with a fresh contract and too-big gear, everyone kind of holds their breath.

The rookie’s got that bounce to him, all energy and light and excitement, like he hasn’t been on a team that lost yet. He skates like he’s got something to prove and jokes with the trainers before the end of his first day. He calls the veterans sir for about three hours before he gets chirped so hard he drops it. But he doesn’t stop smiling.

Not even when Mack glares at him across the ice the first day of training camp, watching him weave through pylons like he’s born with a puck on his stick.

“That kid’s gonna get eaten alive,” someone mutters in the dressing room.

“By Mack?” another asks.

“If he makes it through the week without crying, I’ll eat my skates.”

Except Will doesn’t cry. Doesn’t flinch either. When Mack corners him during a drill and tells him he needs to watch his weak side, Will just nods and says, “Got it, Cap,” with that easy confidence that somehow isn’t cocky.

It’s the first time Mack blinks like he’s surprised.

The second time is when Will brings him coffee the next morning.

“Black, right? No sugar? Seems about right,” Will says, grinning up at him like they’re old friends.

Mack stares at him.

“What,” he deadpans. “I don’t—“

Will shrugs. “Fine, I’ll drink them for you then.”

“Wait—“

Will’s smile curls into his cheek at that. Mack drinks the coffee he brings him every day after that.

From that point on, Will’s just… around. Always. He falls into step beside Mack without hesitation, chirps him about his tape job, asks him for help with faceoffs like Mack’s not the scariest guy on the roster. He wears the same Red Bull cap every day and says it’s lucky, and Mack doesn’t even yell when Will makes the entire locker room smell like his deodorant.

The team watches in stunned silence as Mack stops barking during drills. As he passes Will the puck during scrimmages. As they catch Mack — Mack, their captain — laughing at something Will says in the tunnel before a game.

It’s like watching a lion get adopted by a golden retriever.

One day, after Will scores his first goal, Mack yanks him into a one-armed hug so tight the kid’s feet leave the ground.

“We owe Smitty so much,” one of the defensemen whispers from the bench, in awe.

They all nod, solemn.

Will, oblivious, grins like the sun. Mack grins back, soft and crooked in a way no one’s ever seen before.

Later that night, when they’re both the last ones left in the locker room, Will glances over and says, “You know, I think you’re kind of a softie.”

Mack looks up from the bench. “You’re lucky you’re fast, kid.”

Will winks. “You love me.”

Mack doesn’t answer. But he doesn’t deny it, either.

♡

[bleedingoptimism]

part one -> 📱💞🚙

part two -> 📱💞🚙

It only takes a week for Steve to show up at this door again. He knocks on the door late at night and he’s panting as if he’s run all the way there, “I had to see you” he says and it's overdramatic and kind of romantic, and Eddie barely resists the urge to jump in his arms and kiss him. Or check if there’s a filming crew and it’s raining because of how much this feels like a movie, but it’s a beautiful night outside.

“Come in,” he tells Steve, immediately turning and running around the living room, throwing away empty food containers and tidying up a bit. 

Steve watches him amused, but stands by the door, hands in his pockets, “So…” he says, “Came home today to find Chrissy, Vicky, and Robin all sitting at my dining table with their heads buried in a phone” 

Eddie looks up at that, because what the fuck? He looks at Steve confused and Steve nods, like he agrees with Eddie.

“The three of them lifted their head at the same time, it was kind of freaky honestly,” He keeps going and Eddie chuckles, curious as to where this is going, “They wanted me to see this,” Stevee finishes, lifting his phone up, the first episode of the van series playing, right at the part were Eddie first sees Steve and blushes while looking at him.

Back in reality Eddie is blushing again too, Steve saw the van series, he knows. Steve knows. “Steve…” he starts even though he has no idea what he’s gonna say.

But Steve doesn't let him try, doesn't let him think. He takes two long steps towards Eddie and kisses him, hard but short, pulls away holding Eddie’s face between his hands, and brings their forehead together,

“I didn't know,” he breathes.

Eddie shakes his head, “How could you not, I was so obvious I-”

Steve just kisses him again, once more short and sweet before pulling back, “You never said.”

Eddie wraps his hands over Steve's wrists, just holding them there, moving his thumb over Steve’s pulse slowly. He can feel how hard Steve’s heart is beating, can feel it match the rhythm of his own heart. And he wracks his brain, trying to remember if he ever did ask Steve out, or if he ever stated he liked him out loud.

He ends up laughing at the stupidity of it. Everyone knew Eddie loved Steve, except Steve, “I’m- I don't what to say. I'm sorry I-” he starts but Steve shuts him up with a kiss again, “It’s okay, I know now”

This time when they kiss, Eddie doesn't let Steve keep it short. He keeps him close, kissing him deeper, harder, longer, until he doesn't know where he begins and Steve stops.

The next day a new video gets uploaded. “Goooood morning!” Eddie says, even though it is clearly noon, from the passenger seat of his van, “Guess who is ready for their road trip!” he smiles and pulls the phone away from him, so both he and Steve are in frame. Steve is driving, eyes on the road but a huge smile on his face, Eddie’s hand is clearly visible on Steve’s thigh in the shot before Eddie moves the phone back to his face, “We’ll keep updating you guys, can’t tell you exactly where we are going cause we’d like a little privacy,” he says and wiggles his eyebrows, a soft gasp and a whispered and heated ‘Eddie!’ is heard in the background, “But we will upload videos from where we’ve been in a few weeks!” he films Steve once more, who looks at Eddie with a big sappy enamored smile on his face and then films the road for a few seconds, the world passing by the window. Finally, he twists the phone back to his face and says, “Oh! And don't worry about who’s going to drive… we’ll switch” and he winks and ends the video.

the end

☕🥐💕 coffee? by a roadhouse?

[goldfades]

★ TARGET AND CHICK-FIL-A ─── PB⁵

❪ requested -> "Hey! Just wanted to request a Paige Bueckers story where it’s a compilation of TikTok pranks, like calling her your wife, asking for help with the tampon being stuck, etc. thank you" ❫

─ pairing | paige bueckers x fem!reader

─ warnings | literally nothing but fluff!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

You propped up the camera on your water bottle, ushering Paige toward you. She was confused for a few moments before she glanced down at your phone, a smile curving her lips.

"What are you doing?" Paige asked as she glanced at the camera, checking herself out for a few seconds as you laughed.

"Just a TikTok," you reply, grinning as you pressed record. Paige's hands immediately pulled you closer to her chest as she smiled at the camera.

"Hey guys, uh... I don't know what this is-" Paige started as you began to laugh, shaking your head.

You can't help but chuckle at her adorably awkward introduction. "Hey so we're doing that trend where you guess your wife's favorite food, so uh..."

Paige's smiled widened as she glanced down at you, realizing what you were doing. However, she didn't miss a beat, playing along as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Let's see if my wife can actually figure it out, it's a hard one for sure," Paige pulled you closer into her chest as you laughed, feeling yourself blush under her gaze.

You feigned a moment of deep contemplation, squinting dramatically as if trying to read her mind. "Hmm, let me think... Chipotle?"

"Hey, that's a not a food-" Paige spoke before you scoffed, laughing.

You playfully interrupted, "Oh, come on, it counts!"

Paige couldn't hold back her laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Okay, you win, wifey. Cause you know she's the best, she knows me so well."

"Yeah, I do." You grinned proudly at the camera before you clicked the recording, stopping the TikTok.

Paige watched you with admiration before she pulled you in for a sweet kiss before pulling away. "I'm actually gonna make you my wife one day, okay?"

"I'll hold you to that, P." You smile warmly at Paige, feeling a rush of affection for her before she pulled you in for a deeper kiss.

──

You were laying on your bed next to Paige as you scrolled through Instagram, your boredom growing with each passing moment. The day outside seemed to beckon with its warm sunlight, yet you found yourself stuck indoors, yearning for something to break the boredom.

"Hey, what's up?" Paige's voice rang throughout the bedroom but you kept your eyes glued on the screen. "Oh, shit yeah, I'm down for Chick-fil-a, who else is going?"

Your interest was suddenly peaked as you glanced toward your girlfriend, your excitement palpable as you mouthed 'yes' to her. She put her pointer finger up as she continued talking. "Yeah, then we can hit up Target too, I've been cracing a Redbull."

"Paige," you whispered as she glanced toward you, a smirk playing on her face. "I wanna come too, please. Let me come, I want a Redbull too,"

Paige laughed softly before she continued talking on the phone, ignoring your pleas. "I'm down," she quickly glanced at you. "Nah, she's tired, she had a long day."

You immediately gasped in hurt as you shook your head, earning a laugh from Paige. "I'm not tired!" You shouted as Paige's laughter fills the room, and you can't help but playfully pout at her teasing.

"Can I come?" You spoke softly as Paige's expression softened, before sighing heavily. "Please?"

"Yeah, come on, let's go," Paige stopped recording as you rolled your eyes, a smile on your face as you realized Paige had been teasing you all along.

With a smile, you hop up from the bed, feeling a surge of excitement. "I knew it was that stupid trend,"

"Oh did you now?" She wrapped your arms around your waist as you nodded.

You chuckle, nodding as Paige wraps her arms around your waist. "Yeah, you had me going for a moment there. I was going to be really mad,"

Paige leans in, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. "I couldn't resist you though, it's actually embarrassing how quickly I caved."

You grin at Paige's admission, feeling a warmth spreading through you at her affectionate gesture.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[rookienando]

our secret moments pt. ii | 𝓯. 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓸

pairing: fernando alonso x f!actress!reader, socmed!au

synopsis: you and fernando's rumored relationship isn't a rumor at all. pt. i

a/n: honestly have no clue if this is gonna have plot and an ending or i'm just writing blurbs because i can. ALSO, age gap mention, but y/n is in her late 20s

f1

Liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, fernandoalo_official, and others

f1 Some of last night's best dressed, the ladies in the paddock certainly slayed the house down at the Austrian Grand Prix! 🤩

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username the caption i can't—

username admin is definitely gen z

f1 👀

username bro actually replied😭

username el nano once again liking another post with y/n in it

username i am sooo convinced something's going on between them

username you need to touch grass

username alex and yn ate so hard i fear

yourusername feeling honored to be considered best dressed alongside some of the loveliest ladies🥰

carmenmmundt i love you x

yourusername i love you too bbg

georgerussell63 stop flirting with my girlfriend in public??

yourusername no❤️

username y/n is so funny

lilymhe 🥺🫶🫶

yourusername 😘

username women supporting women, we love to see it

yourprivateaccount

Liked by carmenmmundt, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend, and others

yourprivateaccount just the love of my life being the pookiest man ever❤️

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fernandoalo_official Mi bella, why?

georgerussell63 you're adorable, man

fernandoalo_official 😠

yourprivateaccount he's not wrong, my love is actually the cutest human being

fernandoalo_official ☺️❤️

georgerussell63 i call you cute and get an angry emoji, but she does it and gets a heart? 🙄

fernandoalo_official

Liked by jensonbutton, yourusername, oscarpiastri and others

fernandoalo_official Always a joy to be in London 🇬🇧

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username he looks so good in that suit oml

username still one of the hottest guys on the grid

username always love a non-aston fernando update

yourusername

Liked by fernandoalo_official, susie_wolff, lilymhe and others

yourusername always down for a night out 🥂

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yourcostar so glad you tried out my favorite london resto 🥺

yourusername liked this comment

yourusername i am now OBSESSED with their filet mignon, thanks sm for telling me about it 🫶

yourbestfriend my bestie ATE

yourusername liked this comment

f1gossipaccount

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f1gossipaccount SPOTTED: F1 driver Fernando Alonso and actress Y/N last night in London ahead of the British Grand Prix. Guess the rumors weren't rumors at all, no? 👀

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username holy shit

username omygod they really are together

username is it just me or anyone else find it off that he's older than her???

username she's in her late 20s, grow up

username dude it's weird, he's so much older than her

username why are y'all acting like she's in college or smth??? she's literally an adult

username i'm actually obsessed with their hug in the last pic

username who wouldn't be?

fernandoalo_official

Liked by oscarpiastri, aussiegrit, carmenmmundt and others

fernandoalo_official Another year down, many more to go with you, vida mía ❤️

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yourusername 💋💌❤️

fernandoalo_official liked this comment

username OKAY IT'S OFFICIAL THEY REALLY ARE TOGETHER

username i'm actually screaming f1 rumors were right for once

username WAIT what do they mean "another year" ???

username omg wait...

username DOES THIS MEAN THEY'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR LONGER

username ISN'T THAT Y/N'S OSCARS DRESS FROM TWO YEARS AGO IN THE SECOND PIC???

username you're so right like?? how long have they been together actually😭

username it's actually so scary they've managed to hide their relationship for so long considering the paparazzi and gossip sites

username the way they're already my favorite f1 couple

f1

Liked by danielricciardo, yukitsunoda0511, alex_albon and others

f1 Found some of the paddock's lovebirds roaming in the Silverstone circuit ahead of the British Grand Prix!

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username not f1 admin hardlaunching them😭

username admin for sure made this post just to get in on the hype

username obsessed with rebecca's paddock fits

username the fernandoyn ship has sailed. i repeat, THE FERNANDOYN SHIP HAS SAILED

yourusername

Liked by fernandoalo_official, astonmartinf1, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername congrats on p3, my love! i'm so happy to be able to witness you up on that podium again, and i can't wait to see you up there some more. i love you 💚

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fernandoalo_official mi corazón, te amo ❤️

yourusername liked this comment

yourusername te amo, my nando ❤️