#he's more casual than lawrence

[igotsnothing]

Julian Keats (and a little peek into the future...) Clickie for details-I didn't want the large pics to eat up folks' dashes.

[roturo]

`· . ౨ৎ OTAKU HOT GIRL !

౨ৎ summary: “I like a tall woman with a nice big ass, haha.” Shocked faces turned to the pink-haired boy, not expecting such blunt honesty. “Just sayin’.”

Out of sheer curiosity, Todo leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Got an example?”

WARNINGS: smut, male masturbation, lewd language and thoughts, overstimulation, sub-ish!yuji itadori, semi-public, use of pet names (puppy & ma'am) aged-up characters, whimpering, obsessed!yuji itadori, reader is mentioned like a person with big ass and tall, and lmk if i missed smth!

౨ৎ a/n: guess who's back baby! i listened to megan's new song and couldn't resist writing for my golden boy after hearing his voice omfg... 🫠i'm still a lil rusty and this might be short (1.4k words) but owmawgawd, this got meee

“I like a tall woman with a nice big ass, haha.” Shocked faces turned to the pink-haired boy, not expecting such blunt honesty. “Just sayin’.”

Out of sheer curiosity, Todo leaned in, a mischievous grin on his face. “Got an example?” The room filled with mixed reactions, some intrigued and others apprehensive. They were already tired of his daily talk about Jennifer Lawrence. Who could he possibly like more than her?

The boy smirked, leaning back casually. “Like the new grade one sorcerer from Kyoto, [Y/N] [L/N]...”

A collective gasp echoed through the room. Everyone knew about you, the formidable new sorcerer who had quickly risen through the ranks. But hearing that someone admired you in that way was a revelation.

He flashed back to the first time he met you. The memory was vivid. It was during a joint training session between the Tokyo and Kyoto schools. You had walked in with an air of confidence that immediately caught his attention. Tall, strong, and undeniably sexy, you had an aura that made it impossible for him to look away.

From the moment you started sparring, he was entranced. Every move you made was precise, powerful, and graceful. He could barely focus on his own training, his eyes constantly drifting towards you. When you finally spoke to him, your voice was low and sultry, asking for a sparring match. He was so flustered that all he could manage was a shaky “yes ma’am,” despite you being the same age.

The sparring match was intense, the air thick with tension. He gave it his all, but you were relentless. Each of your strikes was met with awe and admiration. By the end, he was exhausted and utterly defeated, but he didn’t mind. He was too impressed by your skill and the way your body moved.

After that day, you became a frequent topic of his thoughts. He admired not just your beauty, but your fierce dedication and prowess as a sorcerer. Every time he saw you, he couldn’t help but be reminded of how captivated he was by you. His fantasies about you became more vivid, more intense, fueled by the memory of your close combat and the way your body pressed against his.

“So yeah,” he continued, snapping back to the present. “That’s my type.”

The room fell silent, the other boys processing his words. Some were still shocked, others nodded in understanding like Panda and Todo. It was clear that his admiration for you went beyond mere physical attraction. It was rooted in genuine respect and a desire that bordered on obsession.

You and he had been talking for a few months now, and his clear attraction to you only grew stronger with each passing day. Your casual conversations and shared laughter were becoming the highlight of his days. Sometimes, during joint training sessions between the two schools, he found it increasingly difficult to focus. His eyes would wander towards you, watching the way your body moved with precision and strength. The mere sight of you was enough to send a surge of desire through him, making it impossible to concentrate. On more than one occasion, he had to leave the training area, his cheeks flushed and a raging erection straining against his pants. The frustration was palpable, but he couldn’t help it. You had a hold on him that was both thrilling and torturous.

He had to leave training again just to find some privacy in the restroom, where he urgently pleasured himself through his pants, softly moaning your name. The need had become insatiable, every thought consumed by the image of you—your intoxicating smile, the curve of your hips, and the way your hair cascaded over your shoulders.

In the quiet sanctuary of the restroom, he leaned against the cool tiles, his breath hitching with each stroke. With trembling hands, he hastily undid his pants, revealing his throbbing cock already slick with anticipation. His mind replayed every encounter with you, from the shared glances to the moments when your eyes held a tantalizing promise.

Despite the overwhelming sensation after coming once, he couldn't resist the need to relieve himself. His hand moved almost mechanically over his throbbing cock, slick with his own essence. The thought of your touch, your fingers wrapped around him instead of his own, consumed him. He imagined how much better it would feel, how your soft, skilled hands would bring him to the brink and beyond.

As his hand wrapped around his pulsating shaft, he couldn't suppress a low groan. The touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure through him. Starting slow, he savored every sensation, but the ache only intensified. Each stroke brought him closer to the edge, his fantasies blending seamlessly with reality in a haze of desire.

Soft, needy moans escaped his lips, mingling with the sound of his rapid breaths. He imagined your touch—delicate yet commanding, expertly teasing him to the brink. His cock twitched at the thought, pre-cum slickening his fingers as he quickened his pace.

Lost in the moment, he couldn't help but fantasize about how your lips would feel against his skin, your hands exploring every inch of him with a hunger that matched his own. The idea of you taking control, guiding him with a firm touch, made him shudder with anticipation.

His movements grew more urgent, chasing that elusive release. He could almost feel you there with him, your presence palpable in the confined space. With a guttural moan, he finally spilled over the edge, his release pulsing through him in powerful waves. He rode the wave of pleasure, his body trembling as he emptied himself, gasping for breath.

But even as he came for second time, his body continued to react, hypersensitive to every touch. He overstimulated himself, prolonging the pleasure and pushing himself to the brink of overwhelming sensation. Despite the intensity, he couldn't stop, his hand moving almost mechanically, seeking that final, blissful release.

As he leaned against the cool tiles, spent and still trembling, he couldn't shake the lingering desire for more. The fantasy of you lingered in his mind, fueling a hunger that would not easily be sated. He knew that the next time he saw you, every glance, every word exchanged would hold a newfound intensity, a longing that burned deeper than ever before.

Curiosity got the best of you as you entered the restroom in search of Yuuji, wondering why he had abruptly left practice. It had been unlike him to disappear without a word, and you couldn’t shake the concern that something might be wrong. Pushing open the door, you were met with the unexpected sight of him sprawled on the cool, tiled floor. His pants were pooled around his ankles, and his toned abs and hands were slick and glistening with his own release. Despite the aftermath, his cock stood proudly erect, a conflicted expression etched on Yuuji's face as he stared at it, small whimpers escaping his lips in his desperate quest for release once more.

The air in the restroom was heavy with the musky scent of arousal, adding to the charged atmosphere. Yuuji’s eyes, normally vibrant with energy and mischief, now held a mix of embarrassment and raw need. He looked up at you, his gaze pleading silently for understanding and perhaps even assistance.

You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do or say. His vulnerability in this moment was palpable, and you found yourself drawn to him despite the unexpectedness of the situation. Slowly, you approached him, the click of your shoes against the tile echoing softly in the silence. As you knelt beside him, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his skin flushed with desire and frustration.

He whispered your name, thinking all of this was a dream– Tentatively, your hand trailed down his chest, fingers ghosting over the slick, sensitive skin. His breath hitched at your touch, a mix of anticipation and relief flooding his features. "Please," he begged, his voice strained with desire. "Poor puppy– leaving training just because hormones got the best of him." He whimpered at the pet name you used, your hand now gently caressing his balls, catching him off guard and eliciting a loud moan that made you quickly cover his mouth with your hand.

"Shh, puppy," you whispered, your tone teasing yet commanding. "We wouldn't want others to hear what a needy slut you are, would we?" His eyes widened, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he shook his head frantically.

"Good boy," you cooed, your touch firm yet reassuring, knowing exactly how to play him.

pt2?

[just-jordie-things]

I know he's not your favorite but consider... #73 with Itadori... short reader has a crush on him but is too afraid to confess bc she knows he likes tall girls lol I think this could be super cute

kiss prompt 73: height difference kisses where one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes

a/n: first time writing for itadori !!! ___

if you had to think about it, you'd had a crush on itadori yuuji since the day you met him.

after getting a call from megumi where he'd begrudgingly asked for your help tracking down a cursed tool that some spooky-loving school club had snatched before he could, you hadn't expected things to take the turn they did.

as soon as you'd run into the pink haired boy, it was like a daze took hold of you. megumi honestly could have believe you'd been poisoned with how you stammered over your words and moved awkwardly. he'd never seen you so out of it when exorcizing curses. you were sloppy, defensive maneuvers delayed, offensive maneuvers... megumi would have gotten the job done better when he was ten, so, let's just leave it at that.

but nothing would have stopped itadori from eating that finger, and, well, we all know what happens from there.

you were surprised with how quickly he adapted to an entire world he'd never known the existence of. he was an avid learner, eager to train, eager to educate himself. he was always asking you questions that megumi found silly having grown up in jujutsu society, but you'd been happy to talk to him for hours about the ins and outs of it all. that was how your friendship began to blossom, you supposed.

it was easy to crush on yuuji. he was kind, handsome, silly, and had a warm energy about him that just drew you to him like a moth to a flame. even with your harbored feelings for him, being around him was easy, and comfortable. you'd only known him a few months, but the way he treated you made you feel like you'd been close friends for years.

however, due to how close you'd gotten, you were well aware that you were not his type. he'd joked a few times about how he liked tall girls like jennifer lawrence, and you didn't exactly meet that standard.

after he'd casually let that information slip, you found yourself comparing the height difference between you two more often. it was no shock that he was taller than you, you could remember the first time you'd met him you'd tilted your head back to stare up at him- your eyes had been blown wide like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. he'd just leapt through a window like it was nothing and fought alongside you like his entire reality hadn't just flipped upside down- but now that he'd made his ideal type clear, you'd frown when it would dawn on you that you were barely even an average height.

you'd stand up a little straighter when you were standing before him, but even still you'd tilt your chin so you could look at him properly. he'd noticed the sour expression on you a few times, but you always brushed it off as something else. it felt sort of childish to tell him that you were upset for not being taller.

it's one afternoon that you're out shopping with the other first years that you finally tell him the truth. not that you'd planned to, of course, you were ready to take this secret to the grave.

but you're wandering around with yuuji, half avoiding nobara who was on a rampage and throwing armfuls of clothes at megumi, and half looking at the display of silly hats. some of them were cute, but most of them were pokemon themed, or beanies with funny saying.

yuuji had excitedly picked up a fluffy pikachu hat, complete with the tall ears, and fluffy yellow flaps that hung down your face, ending in paw shaped pockets that you could stick your hands into. he was grinning as he turned to you to tug the hat over your head. you had half a mind to scold him for ruining what was a good hair day, but you keep it to yourself. he looked too happy to have you model the accessory for him.

and you'd thought it was cute, at first. then you take note of how he has to stoop over to reach your level in order to properly adjust the dorky hat, and you're made aware again of how short you are in comparison to him. of how small in general you are compared to him. his tall stature complete with broad shoulders and biceps that were starting to display how hard he'd been training himself- as appealing as he was to look at, you're frowning due to your own self pity.

and when he's done playing with the droopy ears on top of your head and sees the look on your face, he's frowning, too.

"what's wrong?" he asks, quietly, worriedly, like a good friend. "you don't hate pikachu, do you?"

it makes you laugh, even just a little bit, and yuuji gives you a small smile in relief that his joke worked to ease your sad expression, even just a little bit.

"no, it's not pikachu," you huff, pulling the hat off your head and placing it carefully back on the mannequin. "i'm just short"

his brow furrows, assuming at first that he'd heard you wrong, but when you don't say anything else and give him an awkward shrug, he realizes you're serious.

"so?" he asks, chuckling to himself. "what's so bad about that?"

you avoid his gaze while you pretend to take interest in the other hats on the wall, despite you not being a hat person, which he knows.

"it's pretty dumb" you say, running your fingers over a fluffy sylveon cap that was similar to the pikachu one.

"try me" yuuji smiles at you, leaning into the display to catch your attention again. his smile reaches his eyes, and he seems to genuinely hopeful to ease your foolish concern, that you find yourself giving in.

"promise not to laugh at me?" you mutter.

he raises a hand to his chest, drawing an x over his heart before raising his palms towards you in silent promise. you crack a smile at how serious he's taking this.

you take a deep breath before confessing the thought that's been plaguing your mind for the last few weeks.

"i know you like tall girls," you say, staring straight ahead at the sylveon hat like it had been the object of your desire for our entire life. "and i know i'm not even close to being called tall,"

yuuji blinks a few times, his brows raising as he processes this information.

you were upset because you didn't consider yourself his type? did he understand that right? so this was because... you wanted to be his type?

"well, maybe a fifth grader would think i'm tall," you began to mumble to yourself. "but that doesn't really make me feel better-"

"you think you wouldn't be my type because you're so short?" he cuts off your rambling, and she turns to him with a bewildered expression.

"well you don't have to put it like that," you mumble with a furrowed brow. "kinda makes me feel worse-"

"(y/n), i promised i wouldn't laugh," he cuts you off again, stepping forward to wrap his hands around your shoulders. "but that's the dumbest thing i've ever heard!"

you frown up at him, not comforted at all at his attempts to make you feel better.

"you're really bad at this" you tell him, and he begins to break his promise as a few giggles escape through his toothy grin.

"are you kidding?" he teases. "you're the cutest person i've ever met!" he reaches his hands up to your face, squeezing your cheeks together playfully. "i don't want you to be any taller, i like you just the way you are!"

your face begins to heat up under his touch, and with his hold on you, you have no choice but to stare back at him, only making your blush burn hotter.

"you are my type, even as a tiny lil' tater tot," he says, and despite his laughter, you can tell he's being completely genuine. you can see it in the shine in his eyes as he stares at you. "that doesn't matter. what matters if you're a really awesome fucking person, and a badass"

the knot between your brows begins to relax and your lips curl into a smile at his sweet words.

"you're not just saying that?" you ask quietly, just to be sure he wasn't spewing out bullshit just to make you feel better.

yuuji laughs at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling from pure joy. he doesn't respond, but he doesn't need to say anything else.

instead he leans over you, bending almost dramatically to reach your short stature in order to press his lips against yours. it's a short kiss, but it's sweet, gentle, warm- all things yuuji.

when he pulls away, before he can stand back up properly, you're shooting up to the tips of your toes, your hands flying towards his shoulders for balance as you return his kiss. it's fast, eager, curious- all things you. he can't help but smile against your lips as he drops a hand from your face so he can wrap his arm around your waist, keeping you close.

you both distantly hear a harumph! from a passerby in the shop, having forgotten you were still in public. you pull away with sheepish smiles and pink cheeks.

"you are short though" he tells you point blank.

"i know, yuuji" you huff.

"but i like it" he says proudly, and you turn away so he won't see how your blush is spreading down your neck.

you still notice the significant difference in your height often, but it's mostly due to yuuji pointing it out every time he bends over to kiss you from there on out.

___

a/n: i love him sm it's criminal that i haven't written for him :'( xoxo ~ jordie

[bitterrfruit]

Wild Cherries

John Price x f!Reader tags/cw: modern western AU, cowboys, mean!John Price, chasing, spanking, light sadomasochism, age gap (ish), brat taming, dubcon if you squint, smut wc: 4.9k 18+ mdni

Jonathan Price owns the ranch that neighbours your family's. You've got a bad habit of hopping the fence between them, snooping and stealing, leaving little traces of your misbehaviour behind. What happens when you poke the bear?

✼ Read the full chapter on Ao3 ✼

Jonathan was almost as tall, near as wide as the doorframe he stood in. He glanced above you, expecting someone taller, before he craned his head downward to look at you, and you felt your heart flip behind your sternum.

“Well,” he huffed, voice hoarse from a day’s worth of yelling. His stare narrowed as he soaked you in, crow’s-feet creased; piercing eyes raked from your head to your feet, painfully slowly, and back up again. “Ain’t you a nice surprise.” 

His cocksure voice was rumbling and deep, it sunk under your skin and made you turn pink. You had only ever heard him shouting, heard his roars in the distance when he chastised either you or his ranchmen. Now he uttered his words so low that you could hear the gravel in his throat, it made you want to press your ear to his padded chest and feel the vibrations of his sonorous voice directly from its origin. 

You took the same time to inspect him - realising you hadn’t ever seen him up this close, close enough to smell him. He smelt of hard work and cigar smoke, salt and musk, the warmth of his mammoth body reached out and touched you as if the evening air was suddenly cold. His smoky blue t-shirt had stains of sweat between his broad pectorals and down from his neck, the cotton coated in dust - he had only just turned in from a long day of wrangling, hadn’t yet had the chance to shower or to change. 

He lifted a bronzed and furry arm to lean his elbow against the jamb of the door, so thick with well-earned muscle they threatened to tear the sleeves of his shirt with the slightest flex. You wondered if he picked up his cows with his bare arms, carried them around like they weighed no more than bales of hay. 

His cheeks were ruddy with sunburn and vigour, his firm jaw coated by a dark and barely kempt beard, specked with silvers. His expression was stern, though a glimmer of interest in his steel-blue eyes belied his severity. Heavy lids hung low by virtue of looking down at you, his lips in an analytical curl under the thick moustache that grew under his nose. 

You blinked up at him, and opened your lips to speak - but a gruff snicker from him sucked the air from your lungs before you could utter a word to greet him. 

“Brought me a gift?” He asked richly, glare stuck on you and not the sack of ruby-red jam you hung from your fingers. 

Finding yourself, you gave him a pursed smile. “Lawrence made me come and say hi.” 

“Made you, did he?” He snorted, oozing a knowing arrogance. 

“Yep,” you said, lifting the bag to present it to him. “Eve cooked up some jam.” 

You saw his temples bulge as his jaw clenched tightly, expression sinking into what looked to you like twisted disappointment. 

“Nice o’ you,” he grunted disinterestedly, paying no mind to your olive branch. After a troubled sigh, he asked; “Where’ve you been, lil’ miss Honeybee?” 

The use of your nickname made gooseflesh shiver down your spine. He could only have heard that from your siblings or their ranchmen - how often had they spoken to him? Discussed you while you weren’t there to hear it? Last you thought, they never interacted at all. Now, he seemed to mock you with it. 

But he uttered it so casually, with such a coating of sugar, that it rinsed you like praise. 

“Just working,” you replied flatly, shuffling on your feet, vaguely embarrassed to admit you had abandoned the job already. “In the city.” 

“Mh,” he hummed, giving you a placid nod. “Back for good?”

You bit back the smirk that coaxed your lips. “Maybe.” 

“I’ll have to build a taller fence, then, won’t I?” 

Unable to discern if there was any humour in the forcefulness of his tone, your tongue curled behind your teeth as you tried to find a response that wouldn’t incriminate you. 

And you failed. “I’m a good climber.” 

He didn’t quite smile, you saw his chest rise and fall with a hounded breath. 

“I bet you are.” 

an: hey y'all, as some may recognise, this is the extendo version of my old drabble 'cowboy price'. Not yet the part 3 that many of you were asking for (i'm sorry), but there will be many more parts to come, and I hope they will sate our collective hunger for horny western Price!!

Above is only a snippet, the rest is on my Ao3. love youuuu <3

[cheynovak]

Tell me what it takes

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character     

Summary: REQUEST: Dean realizes after a near-death experience that he has nothing if Y/N isn’t in his life. He searches for her and finds her living in Lawrence, Kansas. When he shows up at her door, she’s shocked but lets him in. Dean struggles with small talk before finally confessing realized he needed her.

Warnings: 18+ romance, nothing too explicit, mostly making love, hurt, couple issues, friends to lovers,

English is not my first language 

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The sound of gravel crunching under the Impala’s tires was a familiar comfort as Y/N stared out the window, her mind miles away from the endless Kansas road. She had been living with Dean and Sam for years now.

It had become her life—hunting, saving people, the usual. She had loved Dean for years, they started out as neighbours, friends, but over time, something had shifted between her and Dean, something she wasn’t sure either of them knew how to define.

She and Dean were inseparable, tied together by years of shared grief, laughter, and battles fought side by side. She had helped him take care of baby Sam when their father disappeared on one of his many hunts.

Dean and Y/N had leaned on each other back then, and as the years passed, that connection deepened in a way that was never spoken about, but always felt just right.

Now, though, feeling it wasn’t enough anymore. She needed more, needed to know, hear it he felt the same for her.

They were staying in a rundown motel outside of town for the night, waiting on a lead Sam had tracked down for their next hunt. As soon as they checked in, Sam disappeared to do more research, leaving Y/N and Dean alone in the room they would share.

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her heart heavy as she watched Dean peel off his jacket and toss it over the chair by the window. His movements were as casual as ever, but her mind was racing.

It wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed, tangled together in moments of passion when the night was too long, and the world seemed too heavy.

They’d kissed, hooked up, and fallen asleep wrapped around each other more times than she could count, Dean had been her first and if it was up to her, also her last. It felt right with him but it always felt… temporary. As if none of it mattered when the morning came.

She couldn’t take it anymore. She knew he cared for her, more than just a one night thing, she noticed he'd stopped sleeping with other girls, he was protective of her and when a man looked at her in a way he didn't like, he held her.

Those are boyfriends trades, right? Than why didn't he ever admitted it to her, or did he made it official?

"Dean," she said quietly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. He glanced over at her, brow furrowing when he saw the expression on her face. “What’s up sweetheart?”

She bit her lip, trying to find the words that had been building up for so long. "We need to talk." Dean stiffened, his jaw tightening slightly. "About what?"

"About us." Her eyes met his, searching for some kind of reassurance, but she found nothing there but his usual guarded expression. "Dean… I need more."

His brow furrowed deeper. "More? What do you mean?"

"I mean… I can’t keep doing this. The kissing, the hooking up, the sharing a bed… It’s not enough anymore. I need to know where we stand. I need to know that this isn’t just some… convenient arrangement for you."

Dean shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. "Y/N, you know I care about you."

"That’s not what I’m asking," she said, her voice wavering. "I need to hear it, Dean. I need to know you... love me, like I love you."

The room fell into an oppressive silence, the only sound the faint hum of the highway outside.

Dean looked away, his face hardening in that familiar way whenever emotions came into play. His defense mechanism.

"Y/N, I…" he started, then shook his head. "I don’t do this type of things. You know that. I’m not good with—"

"With emotions? With feelings?" she cut in, her frustration rising. "I’ve been with you for years, Dean! I know you better than anyone, I never asked for anything, and I’m telling you, begging you, I need to hear you say it. I need to know that this isn’t just… nothing to you."

Dean’s eyes flicked back to hers, and for a moment, she saw something there. Fear. Pain. But then, just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by his usual bravado. He scoffed, shaking his head. "You’re overthinking this, Y/N. You know how I feel. Why do we need to say it?"

"Because I deserve to know!" Her voice cracked, and she stood up from the bed, her chest heaving with pent-up emotion. "I deserve to be more than just the girl you hook up with when you feel like it. I deserve to be loved, Dean. Really loved."

Dean’s eyes flashed, and he stepped toward her, his own frustration boiling over. "I’m doing the best I can, Y/N! This is who I am. You knew that from the beginning. You think I don’t care? I wouldn’t hold you all damn night! I wouldn't kiss you good morning! I wouldn't you know... hold your hand and stuff"

"But you won’t say it," she said softly, her voice breaking. "You won’t say you love me. You only kiss me when no one is around, you only hold me or my hand when you think someone is interested in me. Why is it so hard to tell me, just me Dean, you don't need to shout it of the roof!"

He clenched his fists, his expression hardening once again. "What do you want from me? I can’t just… say it because you want to hear it."

Y/N’s heart shattered at his words, the final nail in the coffin. She had hoped—prayed—that he would give her something, anything. But instead, he was pushing her away.

She took a shaky breath, her eyes filling with unshed tears. "I can’t do this anymore, Dean."

His face paled, his bravado slipping for a moment. "Y/N, don’t act like that, don't —"

"No," she said, her voice firm now, despite the tears threatening to fall. "I can’t keep waiting for you to love me the way I deserve, the way I have loved you since you moved in next door."

"I ran away from home to help you and your dad take care of Sammy. I did anything for you..." a trembling sigh left her "I’m done."

Without another word, she grabbed her bag from the floor and headed for the door. Dean stood frozen in place, his eyes wide with shock, but he didn’t stop her. He didn’t call her back.

As she walked out of the room, the weight of everything hit her at once.

Years of friendship, of love—unspoken and unacknowledged—crashed down around her. She didn’t want to leave him, but she couldn’t keep sacrificing her heart for someone who wasn’t willing to give her theirs in return.

The door clicked shut behind her, and as she stepped into the cool night air, Y/N let the tears fall. She didn’t know where she was going, but anywhere was better than staying in a place where love was always just out of reach.

Inside the motel room, Dean stood alone, staring at the door. His chest ached, his heart pounding in his ears. He wanted to go after her, to pull her back and tell her everything she needed to hear. But the words stuck in his throat, buried beneath years of walls he had built to keep himself from getting hurt.

And so, for the first time in a long time, Dean was alone. Completely, utterly alone, the only thing he truly loved and cared for in this world, beside his brother, just turned her back and walked away.

A year later

The rain fell in steady sheets, drumming against the roof of the Impala as Dean pulled up outside a modest, two-story house on the outskirts of Lawrence, Kansas. It had been almost a year since Y/N walked out of his life, and for most of that time, he’d tried to convince himself he was fine. That he didn’t need her.

But he’d been wrong.

The last hunt had been a brutal reminder of his mortality. He had come inches from death, pinned under the crushing weight of a creature whose claws had torn into him, leaving deep gashes that still ached. In those moments when the world started to blur and his strength began to fade, there had only been one thought in his mind.

Y/N.

He had always pushed people away, afraid of losing them. But in doing so, he had lost the one person who truly mattered. The one person who had seen him, broken and scarred, and stayed anyway.

Dean’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he stared at the house. He didn’t know what he would say, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t leave without trying. He couldn’t lose her again.

With a deep breath, he stepped out of the car, the rain soaking through his jacket as he approached the front door. His heart pounded in his chest as he raised his hand and knocked. Each second that passed felt like an eternity until finally, the door creaked open.

Y/N stood there, her eyes widening in shock. She hadn’t changed much—her hair was a little longer, and there was a hint of weariness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. But she was still Y/N, the woman who had always been a part of his life, whether he’d admitted it or not.

“Dean,” she said, her voice soft but guarded.

He gave her a small, nervous smile, shifting awkwardly. “Hey.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of the past year hanging heavy between them. Finally, Y/N stepped aside, opening the door wider. “You should come in. It’s pouring out there.”

Dean nodded, stepping inside. The house was warm, cozy. A far cry from the cheap motels and the constant chaos of the life they’d once shared. He could see small touches of her everywhere—books stacked on the coffee table, a blanket draped over the arm of the couch. It was a home, something Dean had never been able to give her.

Y/N crossed her arms, leaning against the wall as she watched him. “What are you doing here, Dean?”

He opened his mouth, but the words got stuck. He hadn’t exactly planned this out. He scratched the back of his neck, forcing a half-hearted smile. “I was in the neighborhood?”

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Try again.”

Dean sighed, running a hand down his face. “Okay, fine. I suck at this, you know that. I—” He stopped, his gaze dropping to the floor as he searched for the right words. He wasn’t sure there were any.

Y/N didn’t say anything, just waited. And for the first time in a long time, Dean felt like he needed to be honest. No walls. No bravado.

“I almost died,” he said quietly, lifting his eyes to meet hers.

Her expression softened for a moment, concern flashing across her face. “Dean…”

“No, listen,” he interrupted, his voice firmer now. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About us. About… everything. And for a long time, I didn’t get it. I thought I could just keep doing what I was doing—going through the motions, keeping everyone at arm’s length. But when I was lying there, bleeding out, the only thing I could think about was you. And how I had nothing if you weren’t there.”

Y/N’s lips parted slightly, but she stayed quiet, letting him continue.

“I messed up,” Dean admitted, his voice thick with guilt. “I was so damn scared to say what you needed to hear because… I’ve lost everyone, Y/N. My dad, my mom, even Sam, for a while. I didn’t want to lose you too, so I thought if I didn’t say it—if I didn’t make it real—then maybe you’d stick around. But I was wrong. And I know I don’t deserve it, but… I’m asking for another chance. A real one.”

Y/N’s arms dropped to her sides as she took a slow, steady breath. The silence that followed was almost unbearable, and Dean’s heart pounded in his chest. She was right to make him wait, to make him feel the weight of his actions. He hadn’t just broken her heart—he’d broken their bond. And that wasn’t something that could be fixed with a few words.

But he needed to try.

"You hurt me, Dean," she said, her voice soft but strong. "For years, I was there for you. I gave you everything, and you couldn’t give me the one thing I needed. Do you know how hard it was to leave? To walk away, knowing you’d never say what I wanted to hear?"

Dean swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I know. And I’m sorry. God, I’m so damn sorry. I should’ve told you… I should’ve told you how much...

I love you."

The words hung in the air, thick with the emotion he had been too afraid to show for so long. For a moment, Y/N just stared at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had waited so long to hear those words, but hearing them now, after everything, wasn’t the easy fix either of them had hoped for.

"Do you mean it?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Or are you just saying it because you’re scared to be alone?"

Dean stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I mean it. I’ve always meant it. I just… I didn’t know how to say it. But I’m saying it now because it’s true. I love you, Y/N. And I want to be with you. Really be with you. No more half measures. No more running away."

Y/N’s eyes searched his, looking for any sign of hesitation or doubt. She didn’t find any. Slowly, she exhaled, wiping at the tear that had slipped down her cheek.

"I can’t promise it’ll be easy, Dean," she said quietly. "You hurt me. It’s going to take time for me to trust you again."

Dean nodded, his expression serious. "I know. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll wait as long as you need. Just… don’t tell me it’s too late."

Y/N looked at him for a long moment, and then, finally, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. She didn’t say anything, but the way she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, told him everything he needed to know.

Dean wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself breathe. He let himself feel.

And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel alone.

He was home.

The warmth of her body pressed against his was like coming home after years of being lost. Y/N lifted her head from his chest, her eyes searching his face. There was something new between them now—vulnerability, raw and unguarded. For the first time, there were no walls between them, no unspoken words hanging in the air.

Dean’s breath hitched as she looked up at him, her lips parting slightly, and without thinking, he leaned in. Their lips met, soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters after everything that had passed between them. But it didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, years of longing and unresolved tension flooding between them like a dam that had finally broken.

His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss grew more urgent. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, needing him the way he had always needed her. The fire between them had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, but now it was consuming them both.

"Y/N," he breathed between kisses, his voice low and husky. "God, I love you."

The words sent a shiver down her spine, but this time, she believed them. There was no hesitation, no fear in his voice. Just truth.

Clothes were shed in a frenzy, their hands tugging and pulling, desperate to feel skin against skin. They stumbled their way to the bedroom, never breaking the kiss, their lips and hands exploring each other like it was the first time all over again.

Dean guided her down onto the bed with a tenderness that took her breath away, his body hovering over hers, his gaze never leaving her. "I should’ve said it sooner," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a wave of heat through her. "I should’ve told you how much you mean to me. How much I love you."

Her breath hitched as his lips moved down her neck, trailing kisses along her collarbone, her hands gripping his shoulders as her body arched into his. "Dean…"

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his hands cupping her face as he kissed her again, slow and deep. Every touch, every kiss, was filled with a quiet intensity that made her heart race. This wasn’t just another night—it was everything they had both been holding back for years.

Dean’s hands roamed her body, gentle but sure, like he was memorizing every inch of her. The way he touched her was different now—there was no rush, no urgency to fill the silence. He wanted to savor this moment, to show her with every caress, every kiss, how much she meant to him. His hands slid down her sides, gripping her hips as he whispered, "I love you," over and over, like a promise.

He entered her slowly, their bodies moving together in perfect sync, the connection between them electric, yet soft and intimate. Each thrust, each movement, was filled with meaning, with the words he hadn’t been able to say before but was now making sure she knew. His forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling as their bodies moved together in a slow, sensual rhythm.

"You're everything," he whispered in her ear, his voice ragged with emotion. "Everything I ever needed. I’m never letting you go again."

Y/N’s hands gripped his back, her nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built between them. She could feel every emotion he poured into her, not just with his words, but with the way he touched her, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered. And for the first time, she believed it—she believed him.

Their pace quickened, the room filled with the sounds of their shared passion, their breathing heavy, their bodies entwined as they climbed higher together. Dean’s lips never left her skin, whispering sweet, broken confessions of love and regret, of promises for the future.

When they finally reached the peak, it wasn’t just about the physical release—it was about everything they had been through, everything they had lost and found again. It was raw, and emotional, and when Y/N cried out his name, she knew that this time, things were different. They were whole.

Dean collapsed beside her, pulling her close, his arms wrapping around her as their breathing slowed. His lips brushed against her forehead, and in the quiet aftermath, he whispered again, "I love you."

This time, there were no doubts. No walls.

She looked up at him, her hand resting on his chest as she smiled softly, her heart full in a way it hadn’t been in years. "I love you too, Dean."

And in that moment, lying together in the quiet of the night, they both knew this was the beginning of something real—something they should’ve had all along.

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read!

@kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27

@call-me-mrs-winchester @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @yvonneeeee

[goatcheesecak3]

Chainshipping x gn!reader hcs

Fic type: fluff

Warnings: nsfw at number 9

A/n: absolutely no one asked for this but I want more chainshipping x reader to exist!! Let me know if this is something you want more of

You met Lawrence and Adam at survivors meetings. Lawrence had approached you first, noticing that you seemed frightened, and had introduced you to his boyfriend, Adam.

You found it quite amusing that they'd found love from one of jigsaws tests, and often joked that you were still waiting for the silver lining of your trap to show itself to you.

You became super close to Lawrence and Adam, the pair of them seemed to care about you a great deal, and loved spending time with you. So much, in fact, that they invited you out with them to bars, fancy dinners, gigs (which were more Adam's thing than Larry's), until you were basically present for every date night.

Often times the three of you would stay out late and return back to Lawrence and Adam's shared apartment. You'd all sleep together in the same bed, you'd usually be in the middle, snuggled up and resting your head on one of the boys' chests, with the other spooning you from behind.

After casually going on dates and cuddling at night for a while, the three of you became aware of your feelings for eachother. Lawrence had very gingerly attempted to bring it up one day, when you were all having a movie night. He didn't want to assume and then make the friendship awkward. Adam, however, did not share his caution. "Look, what Larry's tryna say, is that we think you're hot, you think we're hot, do you wanna be in a throuple, yes or no?" "Adam, you can't just-"

So you became part of their relationship, and it was wonderful, the dynamic just seemed to work. Adam and Lawrence are both very doting partners, they love taking care of you and spoiling you, and you love doing the same for them.

You and Adam like the same type of music, so you go with him to gigs while Larry stays home- he's very grateful for that, since basement shows aren't really his scene.

In a similar vein, you go with Larry to his fancy work dinners, while Adam stays home, which Adam is unbelievably thankful for. He absolutely loathes having to wear a suit and act fancy in front of Lawrence's rich friends.

You and Adam like to get quite mischievous together and wind up Lawrence, particularly when he's at work. If you and Adam ever get it on while Larry's away, you'll take photos and text them to him with captions like "we miss you...". It drives him CRAZY.

Sometimes you come home from work to find Adam and Lawrence fast asleep on the sofa, all snuggled up together. Your favourite thing is to squeeze in between them and go to sleep too, enjoying their warmth

[phxntomhives]

P4 headcanons

Because I just realized this is my blog and I can do it lol.

Edgar Redmond

He learned how to dance when he was little and always loved it.

His favourite author is Jane Austin but won't admit it to anyone.

Puts a lot of effort into becoming a better person but tries to hide it because it should be something "effortless".

Flirt with women but will panick if they flirt back and he would run away.

Hasn't slept for a while after Maurice's "accident" wondering how he could not see the truth .

Lawrence Bluewer

Has tried to read all the books of Weston as a personal challange

Secretely likes coffee.

His sisters dressed him up more than once as a girl.

He has, unwillingly, learned how to put on make-up, and he is good at it.

He wouldn't have minded to become a professor, and Professor Michaelis was his role model for a while.

Herman Greenhill

Loves dogs. Has many of them at home.

The cricket bat he carries is a present from someone he cares about and that's why he always bring it with him.

Adores sweet but has to pretend he doesn't.

His favourite sport is horse riding.

If something is too difficult to understand at school he goes to discuss it with Lawrence and pretends that he just want to exchange their opinions on the topic Lawrence knows and just helps him without pointing it out.

Gregory Violet

He makes his own lip-stick. It took a lot of effort to reach that color and he is proud of it.

Sometimes he looks at the other three and wishes he was taller.

His hair were longer but he was forced to cut them.

His hair are actually white, but he prefers black so he dyes them. He leaves the white strand because it looks cool.

Needs glasses but refuses to wear them.

Slight angst version + Ship discourse + Spoilers of future arcs hidden so you don't have to see them unless you want to

Edgar Redmond

It needs him a while to fall asleep because he keeps thinking of the last Midnight Party and his expulsion from the school.

After Maurice's accident he had a breakdown in his room and broke some stuff while crying, thinking how he could make the same mistake twice.

He was the most excited about the Starlight 4 project and couldn't wait to get on stage.

He couldn't drink tea for months after the midnight party without throwing up.

Lawrence Bluewer

Didn't sleep for a week after the expulsion and ended up collapsing in Edgar's house.

Herman Greenhill

He was depressed after the midnight tea party and thought of killing himself to atone for his sins. Gregory noticed and slapped him before hugging him.

After the creation of the S4, if bad memories/thoughts get to him, he start training one of the song.

Gregory Violet

Wanted to run away from Blavat the moment he noticed O!CIel.

All P4 (poly because I can't separate them)

They accidentally all fell for each other and tried to keep it a secret, it soon failed as everyone was getting jealous of everyone.

It was awkward at first, no one knew how to act.

The Edgar and Gregory accidentally teamed up to act like everything was normal and they slowly found balance.

Edgar thinks it's his duty to maintain them together and happy

If Gregory scrap a drawing, the others just sneakily take it back and keep it safe somewhere else.

Any drawing Gregory made of the other is also extremely well preserved by that person. And the other three friendly argue on who has the most drawings/who has the prettiest ones.

Edgar cuddles anyone. Doesn't matter where or when, if he wants to cuddle he will find someone. His favourite victim for this is Herman because he gets flustered the most.

Lawerence's sister are always casually the companions for everyone is there MUST be a female companion at an official event. (They want to tease their brother)

Herman refuses the others to lift anything.

Lawrence started to read out loud when he noticed that the others fell asleep faster if he was talking.

Herman is the first to wake up and force himself to be as quiet as possible to not wake the others up.

They wait untile veryone is present to start eating.

Lawrence is the most possessive of the four.

Do I have more? Yes, but for now just take my small offering.

[dadsbongos]

astro boy - y.itadori

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection … warnings - my shonen trope writing is showing, idk stink monster? word count - 1.2 K / rating - PG

“This is disgusting!” Nobara huffs, stomping down on the cracked pavement below, “And they couldn’t have given us temporary uniforms or something?!”

Megumi shrugs, but the crinkle in his brows and the downturn of his lips cannot hide his revulsion, “Not like we can just back out now.”

Yuuji and yourself, meanwhile, are crouched over the manhole cover that Ijichi said you’d need to go down. You look at the boy, head tilted, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” he jumps up, clapping his hands, “I can get it no problem.”

“If you’re sure…” you slink back, nudging toward Nobara and Megumi as Yuuji kneels back down and slithers his fingers into the cover's holes.

He’s so sure. It might even impress you, how he’s able to so casually throw aside an entire manhole cover. You were the first person to welcome him to Tokyo. It helps that he finds you even prettier than Jennifer Lawrence, and even though he’s never gotten the honor to meet her: he’s certain you’re nicer, too. You just have to be.

“Is your back okay? You lifted with your legs, right?!” you rush over as soon as Yuuji’s tossed the metal disc.

You’re like an angel, after all.

“Yeah, ‘m all good!”

Megumi comes up between the both of you, nodding towards the sewer’s gaping maw. If this were a children’s cartoon, then you imagine toxic chartreuse fumes would be ribboning out in thick streams. You’re worried the stench may cling to your clothes.

“I’ll go down first, then you and Kugisaki, and Itadori - you’ll be last.”

Nobara lays her cheek against your shoulder from behind, “Huh? Trying to be a gentleman, Fushiguro?”

“I just don’t want you idiots making us fill out injury reports,” he grumbles, already waist-deep into the darkness and continuing down.

“Hey!” Nobara snaps, shuffling by you and Yuuji to go down the metal rungs, “Don’t you dare look up!”

Just before he sinks completely into the murky black, you catch Megumi’s aggravated grunt of, “As if I would ever…”

“Well, guess it’s my turn,” you hold Yuuji’s arm for balance as you slot your foot securely over one of the lower rungs, beaming up at him with a quickly chirped, “thanks!” before releasing him.

Yuuji can barely feel the lower half of his face with how hard he’s cheesing, but he certainly feels the thunder in his chest. His eyes follow you down, a breathy, wide-eyed, “yeah, no problem…” to pair with your gratitude.

“God, I can’t see anything…” he hears Nobara as his eyes take their time adjusting to the dark.

“Here, there’s…” the electric buzz and hum of a flickering flashlight, Megumi hits the shuddering bulb before it sparks to life and stays on, “this.”

Yuuji looks out at his group, the faint glow of Megumi’s flashlight glistens along their faces. Then it illuminates the dark, puddled pavement below their feet. Then the murky stew of browns and greens flowing to their collective right. Then straight ahead.

“Ah, shit.”

What Yuuji hears next is a sharp, piercing shrill from Nobara as she and Megumi are snatched by the ankles, and sucked into the gelatinous, translucent, vaguely putrid body of a curse. A gasp follows it, you shuffle back with a hurried look over your shoulder, reaching out for him. Like a nightmare, then, you’re pulled into the revolting, jiggly mass.

“Itadori!” is the last he hears you shriek.

That singe of fear down his spine is still apparent, even though this is far from being his first mission, but the sight of his friends floating, trapped in that goo is more compelling. He switches the weight on his feet, hands balling so tightly his nails snag into the meat of his palms.

“I’ll save you!” he’s referring to the group, but for some odd reason he only looks up at you, “I swear it!”

The blob wiggles with its giggling, a singular eye tearing over Yuuji’s smaller frame. A waft of frozen air curls through the sewer sending shivers racking through the boy’s body.

Above him, the curse’s voice echoes between sewage drips, layered like a scratchy, out-of-pitch choir, “Bring… a… jacket…!”

Another shiver, unrelated to the temperature, racks through him. Yuuji isn’t sure he’ll ever be accustomed to those chittering tones.

Instead, he swallows his fear and dips low, ready to launch himself forward with cursed energy coursing through his fists.

The curse lashes droopy, bubbling tentacles at Yuuji, but they are no match for the sputtering, repeated blows of the boy’s attacks. He strikes decisively and quickly, ferociously battering against the flabby curse until it rolls back: squelching and crying.

Foam leaks from the flattened bottom, bubbles rise to the surface, and the whole curse wriggles once. Then twice.

Its eye widens.

“So… cold…!”

And it pops.

Putrid, green slime bursts over Yuuji. Weighing his clothes down and slicking back sections of his hair. After clearing the fluids from both eyes, Yuuji rushes towards you.

“Are you okay?”

Yuuji uses the dry pads of his thumbs to swipe the slime off of your face, then carefully lifts your crumpled form by your forearms. He lets his hands linger, masquerading the need for your skin on his as concern.

“Hm,” you can still smell the morbid rot of the curse’s body around yours, “Yeah, I think I’m okay…”

His honeyed eyes are glassy, they scrounge over your body to double-check. As if you would miss some gaping flesh wound that he wouldn’t. Finally, he meets your gaze, and the pinched nature of his expression drops, a contented smile taking its place.

“Good,” he speaks softly, so unlike his natural boisterous greed for attention.

“You know,” Megumi calls, “We were in there, too.”

Nobara kicks the back of Yuuji’s knee, sending him into the frosty concrete below, “At least try to hide your favoritism, huh?!”

“It’s like you were only trying to save one of us,” Megumi smacks Yuuji up his head.

“Well then,” you lean down, arms circling Yuuji’s neck as he kneels before you. You press your slimy face against his, “I guess he’s only my hero!”

“Barf!” Nobara gags, already waving both of you off as she plucks her uniform from sticking against her skin, “This better come out, Fushiguro!”

“Why is it my fault?!”

“You were supposed to be our leader!”

The two continue to bicker as you pull Yuuji up from the ground, “Good job being the only one not caught, Itadori.”

He beams at the praise, warmth fluttering through his chest and tickling all down the ladder of his ribs, “It was nothing!” his fingers itch to card through yours, “I just wanted to make sure you three were safe.”

“Of course, we were,” you take the initiative and squeeze his hand in yours, “You were here to save us…” you laugh to yourself, refraining from a brutal cringe at the lingering scent of death from the curse’s remains, “Even though you’re the newest one to this.”

Yuuji wants to say something suave. Something to knock you off your feet and into his arms, but he is interrupted.

“Come on!” Megumi twists a hand into the cherry fabric of Yuuji’s hoodie, yanking the boy along, “We need to make sure the place is empty now.”

“Go easy on him!” you shout, and Yuuji grins at your defense.

Nobara loops an arm through yours, pulling you flush against her side, “I’m so not looking forward to washing this out…”

Eyes still on Yuuji trying (and failing) to scramble onto both feet while Megumi pulls him, you nod slowly with a faint smile gracing your lips, “Yeah, totally…”

“Hey! Pay attention when I speak!”

“Yeah, totally…”

[melly-watches-racing]

Drive to Survive episode 1 thoughts…

Lance Stroll clearly drinking a Redbull with Scotty and enjoying it while also hiding the fact that he’s enjoying drinking a Redbull.

It’s all happy and fun loving until Lawrence Stroll arrives to villain music and for what reason… he doesn’t need no villain music.

Love how the episode so far is focused around Lawrence but they use Fernando’s car for the opening titles and not Lances.

Fernando already sounding like a Brit and complaining about the weather.

STOFFEL!!!

Fernando being Lawrence’s number 1 hype man.

Lawrence openly loving his son

And as usual Will Buxton being dramatic… god he annoys me.

I never really realised the height difference between Carmen and George.

Of course Horner is casually buying a horse.

All the love for Bottas’ mullet

“I think Yuki’s got smaller”

Danica Patrick… I dislike her MORE than Will Buxton

“Don’t eat too much pasta”

Car inspectors are back

Lance coming back in STYLE!

Lando with *THAT* comment

Once again go away Danica

The lack of faith the pundits have in Lance sucks

“I’m gonna get naked now…”

Claire Williams… please come and replace Danica… please

Lawrence showing he is a dad first… CEO second

Mick Schumacher you sir should be a model

Almost feel like Fernando going ahead of the Mercedes was karma for the comments about Aston

[starfinss]

Can you please do flirting HCs for Sukuna, Gojo, Nanami, Megumi? (I couldn’t find your rules so I’m not sure if you take more than one character per requests so just in case you do, I’ll restrict this to just Gojo).

Hi! Yes, I take more than one character, no worries. Also, my rules are pretty much only visible from the desktop view of my blog, so if you’re a mobile user, that’s probably why. No harm, no foul. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ They’re a selectable link in the drop down below my blog info, in the same section as my masterlist. Also, I’m adding Yuuji because I love him, hope you don’t mind! I love JJK, I wanna write more for it. I have a Megumi fic in the works, so stay tuned for that, if I can kick this horrible writer’s block. But it’s two in the morning and I can’t sleep, so here we are. 

Aaaanyway.

There probably won’t be any blurbs, since these prompts alone could generate entire oneshots, I’m sorry! If you like any of these headcanons, though, I’d be happy to write some of those one shots for you. 

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO GODDAMN LONG. 

This also turned more into “how to pursue a crush” with Nanami, but I digress. 

— 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘠𝘶𝘶𝘫𝘪, 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪, 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪, 𝘎𝘰𝘫𝘰, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵.

— 𝘐𝘵𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘪 𝘠𝘶𝘶𝘫𝘪

— Good lord.

— Yuuji is a very genuine person who often just says how he feels, so he has trouble being subtle, especially around someone he has strong feelings for. 

— If he’s into someone, he’d rather they know how much he cares instead of beating around the bush, but he does try. 

— Keyword try.

— Sometimes he says things that are just way too forward, royally embarrassing himself. 

— Or, he overthinks it and just stands there staring at you. 

— Or he just says something that doesn’t make any sense. 

— Most of the time, when he’s smooth, it’s completely on accident. 

— He’ll also give you small gifts. You offhandedly mention that you saw a toy you liked as a prize at the arcade? He’ll have it to you by the end of the day. You seem sad? He’ll bring you your favorite candy. 

— He’ll also just offhandedly mention that he thinks you look nice today. 

— He might compare you to Jennifer Lawrence. 

— Mostly, though, if you notice an uptick of compliments, Yuuji is probably flirting with you. He likes making you smile, and you’re gorgeous, so he has to make sure you know that and that he appreciates it. 

— It might take some time for him to work up the courage to actually ask you out, but it’ll probably involve flowers. 

“Yuuji, have you been flirting with me?”

“Oh, you finally noticed. Any guy would, with how pretty you are.”

— You know he states it like an absolute fact, sunshine smile firmly in place. 

— 𝘍𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘰𝘶 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪

— Megumi is not good at flirting. 

— He’s generally a pretty stoic person, and isn’t great at expressing outward emotion, so if he’s flirting, it’s going to be fumbling and awkward. 

— Or he just straight up doesn’t. Not in the traditional sense, that is. 

— Megumi’s version of flirting is compliments. Not even on your appearance, though that might happen. He might compliment you on your cursed technique, or the way you handle your weapon.

— It’s like how in Mulan, Li Shang says “ya fight good.”

— That’s Megumi. 

— You also might catch him staring, only to quickly look away when you see him, the tips of his ears bright red. 

— There also might be the occasional “your hair looks nice like that,” or “you should wear that color more often.”

— You’ll think you misheard him, and if you ask him to repeat himself, he will, genuinely thinking you didn’t hear him. He’s a bit dense when it comes to romantic feelings. 

— Will also occasionally say something smooth as fuck. 

— Give him time, but he’ll ask you out eventually. Knowing Megumi, it’ll be pretty casual, like, after you get back from a mission he just approaches you and straight up asks you to dinner. 

— If you flirt with him, he will turn scarlet red. It’s adorable. 

— 𝘎𝘰𝘫𝘰 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶

— If Gojo is flirting with you, you will know. 

— This man is anything but subtle. He’s the guy who says shit like “that’s a nice dress, it would look even better on my floor.”

— He’s that mf. 

— He knows just what words to say in order to make you putty in his hands. Or frustrate you to the point of tears. It depends on if you also have feelings for him. 

— He also cares deeply for you, the feelings he has are disarming, so he hides behind his usual playful demeanor, but far flirtier.

— If you’re in danger, though, he will show everyone why he’s called the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer. 

— Will point blank ask you on dates, and will not be dissuaded. 

— Brings you flowers, candy, stuffed animals, jewelry. 

— He’s peacocking, showing you everything he’s got. It’s a little overwhelming. 

— Compliments you every chance he gets, telling you how much he loves that color on you, or how pretty you look when your hair is done up that way, or how amazing your eyes look with that new eyeshadow. 

— With the way he treats you, people think you’re already dating.

— Cooing and compliments and gifts and so many flirty comments. He’s unrelenting. 

— Literally all the compliments and pet names under the sun. 

— Baby, honey, sweetie, my love, all of it. 

— You know he treats you like a queen, though. Never forget it. 

— 𝘙𝘺𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘚𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢

— I’m gonna be real with you, I don’t think Sukuna knows how to flirt. 

— He’s not really the type of guy who would try and woo a girl, more someone who takes what he wants when he wants it.

— The King of Curses doesn’t flirt. He takes. 

— He isn’t really a flowers and chocolate kind of guy. 

— His way of “flirting” is just suddenly referring to you as his. He sees something, he wants it, he takes it. 

— That’s how he does things. If you don’t like it, that isn’t his problem. 

— But he’d also slaughter anyone who crosses you.

— And straight up rob a store if you mentioned you wanted something. 

— Sukuna, no.

— Sukuna, yes.

— He isn’t really the cutesy type, but he is the chaotic type. 

— Might start calling you “pet” or “doll” or something like that. 

— Incredibly possessive. Sukuna doesn’t like when people touch his things. If someone steps a toe out of line around you, it’s nearly impossible for you to convince him not to maim or otherwise kill whoever wronged you. 

— I just can’t really imagine him as being flirty. He takes what he wants. 

— 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰

— Nanami is more of a to-the-point kind of guy. 

— If he has interest in you, he’s going to be pretty blunt. 

— I think that when he first started to grow fond of you, he tried to ignore it until his feelings were too strong to put off anymore. Work is his first priority, and anything that gets in the way of that is a bit of a nuisance. 

— Buuuut he can put up with a few nuisances. 

— He’d probably start his courtship with just bringing you coffee every day all of a sudden. Maybe even a rose or two. He isn’t being subtle because Nanami isn’t a subtle man. 

— It’ll be obvious what he’s doing, and that’s how he likes it. 

— He won’t even deny the fact that he’s flirting if you point blank ask him. 

— He might ask you out to coffee, and try his best to woo you. Nanami isn’t great at being charming, so he’s just going to try and be himself, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you like someone, right?

— He flirts with compliments and gifts, and they’re the type that matter. They’re personal and meaningful, and he pays close attention to what he thinks you’ll like to hear and receive. 

— The last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable with his advances. Flirting is supposed to make the other person want to go out with you, not make them unhappy. That’s just common sense, right? So if you tell him to stop, he will without question. 

— He’s a little awkward if you flirt back in a normal person way instead of a Nanami way. He might play dumb or just clear his throat and change the subject. 

— Nobody says he doesn’t enjoy it, though. He’ll be thinking about that for the rest of the day. 

— When Nanami cares for someone in a romantic sense, he’ll do his best to let them know in his own sort of way. 

[whumpninja]

I don’t know why it took SO LONG to fill this prompt! Thanks to everyone who sent me ideas, I…ended up using none of them and going with this random thing. Whoops.

Prompt used: Whumptober, defiance

Featuring: magic whump, smoking, vaguely 1920s setting I think, anger, defiant whumpee, magic spells/curses/whatnot, immortal whumper

Whumptober Day Thirteen: Deal With The Devil

"You're not happy."

Lawrence kept the remark casual, offhanded. He flicked open the engraved silver lighter he carried in his pocket and lit a cigarette, pretending to be absorbed in the action. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched his young assistant do the washing up. "You can't hide things from me, Jamie. I can tell you're angry."

Across the room, the young man set down the plates with more force than strictly necessary. They rattled dangerously on the edge of the counter. Lawrence took note of the taut lines of his back, the hard set to his jaw, the snap of fire in his dark eyes. Jamie wasn't just angry; he was furious.

"Was there anything else you needed, Mr. Lexington?" Jamie asked through clenched teeth. Mr. Lexington. Not Lawrence. Oh, this was going to be interesting.

"I can't remedy whatever I've done unless you tell me about it, Jamie," Lawrence said, taking a drag of his cigarette. "If you're finished banging things around like a child throwing a tantrum, I'll listen."

Jamie stared at him for a moment, black eyes blazing. He seized the back of a chair and dragged it out from its place with a deliberately ear-piercing screech, then dropped into it with enough force to make it teeter on its back legs before it rocked forward onto solid ground again.

"I certainly hope that's the last display of temper from you tonight." Lawrence put just a hint of a warning in his voice.

Jamie ignored it completely. He stabbed a finger in Lawrence's direction, trembling with fury. "You put a spell on me." He practically spat out the words. "Didn't you?"

Lawrence raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know how I didn't notice before. I can't disobey a direct order from you- not without feeling sick, and it only gets worse until I obey. I also can't go a certain radius away from you. I walked the whole of it today, just to see. I can't go more than a few miles away from wherever you are." Jamie slammed his hand down on the table. "I can't think of any other explanation. Did you or did you not put a curse on me?"

"Yes," Lawrence answered.

He could tell Jamie had been expecting him to deny it, which was exactly why he'd done the opposite. The young man was an open book, easy to predict and even easier to fool. Lawrence worked in double crosses and blind sides and traps set in fine print. It was hardly his fault if poor souls just happened to stumble into them.

Jamie found his voice again. "Why?"

"Oh, I needed some way to keep you in line. You'll find that if you attack me the spell will reflect any damage back onto yourself, so I wouldn't try that either." Lawrence tapped out his cigarette, one eye on Jamie's outraged expression. "See, you bound yourself to my service in exchange for power. Which I gave you. But I needed a way to make sure you didn't someday take it into your head to use that power on me. So, the spell."

"This is not what I agreed to."

"I think you'll find that it is."

"How long does it last?"

"As long as I need it to. Only the person who cast a spell can lift it. Haven't I taught you anything?" Lawrence clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"I don't need to lift it," Jamie snarled. "If I can break it."

"Good luck with that. I'm an immortal sorcerer, boy. The day someone like you pulls a trick on me...well, it'll never happen."

"I won't stop trying."

"I don't doubt it. I chose you because you're spirited. I like the fiery ones." Lawrence stood up, in no particular hurry, and sidled around the table to stand over his young servant. "You fight me as much as you please, Jamie. Scream insults at me. Try to strike me. Use your own magic if you like. It will amuse me to watch you try- and fail- to break my spell."

He took the boy's chin in his hand, tilting his face up to look into the angry dark eyes. "Because you will fail. Magically speaking, I own you. You would do well to remember that."

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Little Earthquakes - Chapter One.

Besties! I was thrilled with the response to the prologue, thank you all so much! :) So, now the story starts properly. Sit back and get comfy!

Previous chapters - Prologue

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,972

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Minors DNI!

Immediately, her mouth dropped open. “Oh my flippin’ god! Hello!” There he was, the cute lad she’d been in the same class as at school. Except now he was even bloody cuter than he’d been at fifteen. God, those cheekbones were virtually criminal. And his eyes, wow! Had they always been that beautiful a shade of green, and she’d simply never noticed? “I thought I recognised your name when I was looking at your work, but I couldn’t place how, and where from, and I’m babbling, and oh my god, you’re Kelsey Chapman! I remember you, too!” 

She then turned to take in Chris, her mouth falling open yet again. “Chris Lawrence! Stop it, it’s a bloody Fulham Green Academy reunion!”  

“How are you, Holly? All good, ay?” he spoke, side eyeing Nathan and beaming, watching how he stood scratching the back of his neck. He always did it when he felt uncomfortable, usually when he couldn’t hide in his hair, being that his cascade of waist-length brown locks were all tied back. So, Holly still had the same effect, it seemed.  

“Yes, yes I’m good, thanks! It’s so nice to see you all,” she replied brightly as Nathan arrived with her.  

“Ready?” he asked, gesturing towards his station. 

She scrunched her nose a little. “Crapping myself to be honest! Right, where am I kotching?”  

“On the table. Lie back and get comfy, unless you’d rather sit up. Either way, I just need you to place your foot flat and bend your knee so I can press the line drawing on, check it flows okay and make sure you’re happy with it.”  

She’d emailed a few ideas to him, speaking the magic words that any tattoo artist liked to hear, that she trusted his judgement over what he came up with. Her only guide was that she wanted all the flowers to look like they were climbing up from her foot to her mid-calf.  

Since he specialised at realism, each flower would look just as she’d requested, like it had been painted on. The line drawing was a guide for him to work to only, so he could then freehand them into the allotted space. Once pressed into place, Holly took a look and confirmed she was happy, beginning to swallow hard. 

“Just take a few deep breaths, you’ll be fine,” he assured her. “It hurts, but not half as badly as some people make out.”  

“Says the man who nearly cried when I tattooed his ribs,” Kelsey called from her station, poking her tongue between her teeth. 

“Shit off,” he mumbled, looking back at Holly a little sheepishly. “Made my eyes water a bit, but any chance her over there has to make me look like a twat and she takes it.”  

“Love you!” her over there chirped, loading the needle with more ink. All Kelsey based disturbances aside and he began, doing a small section to the side of her foot and pausing. “All good?” 

Oh, no. It felt like somebody was dragging a hot knife through her flesh, but she nodded and smiled all the same. “Fine, yeah. I’m good.” He knew she wasn’t, but he was too nice to call her out on it.  

“So, you’re Holly Jenkins now?” he asked casually, remembering her name in the emails they’d exchanged. Of course, she’d be married. Women as beautiful as her didn’t remain single. “How long have you been married for?” 

“I was married for ten years, but we divorced last year. I haven’t gotten around to changing my name back as yet,” she spoke, resting her arm beneath her head.  

“Oh, sorry,” he replied, looking away briefly, watching her mouth twitch slightly. 

“Don’t be, I’m happy about it. I don’t think we were as well-suited as I once thought, so it was for the best, really.” 

“Hm, yeah,” he breathed, circling the top of the first petal, noticing her foot tense a little. To be expected. Foot tattoos weren’t the best. “I understand that. My wife and I separated three months ago after I reached the same conclusion. Proper shit, but that’s life, ain’t it?” 

“It is, and I’m sorry too, that you’re going through the same thing,” she offered, wincing slightly. “I can give you the number of a good divorce lawyer?” 

He laughed, a small burst of air through his nose. He could certainly do with one of those, to be fair. “Appreciated.” Continuing, he noticed she remained tense, pausing, patting her ankle softly with his black gloved hand. “Relax, ‘kay? Hurts more when you’re tense.”  

“I’ll try. Sorry, I probably look like a right knob to someone as heavily tattooed as you, y’know,” she confessed, Nathan beginning again. 

“Don’t mean I’m immune to pain, and it does hurt, like I said. Trust me, though, you don’t look like a knob. Had a girl in here two weeks ago who literally screamed like she was being murdered. Proper put me off, I'm telling you.”  

It reassured her a little, that her wincing and tensing was definitely at a lower level where reactions were concerned. He remained silent for a little time longer, Holly looking all around the studio, taking it in. It was a relaxed vibe, very dark academia in style with its black walls, dark wooden floors and counters, an abundance of artwork, plants dotted around everywhere and Edison lightbulbs suspended above each of the three stations.  

What caught her eye the most though, well, it was the man tattooing her. Back at school, it had always surprised her, just how lovely she thought he was, so cute with his shoulder length hair and big, green eyes. Even though it was all tied back in a half pulled through messy man bun at the nape of his neck, she wagered it was a lot longer now, but the bottle green eyes were still just as beautiful. Even more so going by her reaction at first seeing him, in fact, his eyelashes also impossibly long and inky. And bloody hell, the pout on the man. Those lips? One hundred percent kissable.  

“What are you doing for work these days, then?” he asked after a further few minutes of silence, loading the needle with dark red ink for the next flower.  

“I’m an illustrator,” she began, noticing that the pain was getting a little less. Well, either that or she was becoming more used to the hot scratches goring at her skin, one of the two. “I mainly do adult colouring and children’s books, but I also contribute for other literature and cover art as well. I just accepted a role doing the digital art for a woman’s E-Magazine, too, which has been great so far.”  

“Yeah? That’s proper sick,” he enthused, pausing to smile up at her. Oh, that smile. It lit up his entire face. “You were always really talented. Those little cartoon guys you used to do, I loved them. That unicorn dude, he was ace.” 

She could barely believe he remembered them after so long, those pictures she’d submitted on her GCSE display. “As if you remember him! Sparky the unicorn.” 

“Sparky, yeah, yeah. That was him.” In truth, he remembered exactly what the cartoon character of her creation had been called, but he didn’t want to look like a weirdo by remembering such an innocuous detail after so many years. Especially not after her surprise that he’d remembered it at all.  

“So, how long have you been tattooing for?” she then asked. 

“Right out of uni, more or less.” 

“Yeah? Wow, long time, then. Did you end up going to Loughborough like you wanted to?” 

Oh, so she’d remembered something innocuous herself too, then. “I did, yeah, yeah.”  

“I remember you telling me. Well, you wrote it down.” 

She began to chuckle, her soft giggle making his stomach tingle pleasantly, even more so when it loudened at watching him pause and close his eyes tightly for a few moments, laughing softly though his nose. “The legit shame of it.”  

“Oh, come on! You weren’t that bad!” she cried, laughing more the further his cheeks pinked. Damn, he was so cute. 

“Weren’t that bad? Holly, I couldn’t pissing speak!” He paused there, giving her a few seconds to compose her giggles. She couldn’t. Her beautiful laughter only spurred his further, both sitting there in soft fits at the memory of his fifteen-year-old self, so stoned he was rendered mute.  

“Or walk by the end of the night either,” Kelsey offered from across the shop. “Had to give him a fireman’s lift to the taxi!” 

Oh, the shame. “You needn’t bloody chip in over there, Chapman,” he snorted. “I can do a good enough job mortifying myself, by myself, thanks.”  

“Sharing is caring!” she beamed, Nathan muttering as he continued and moved onto the next flower.  

“How you holding up?” 

“Fine, getting used to it,” she confirmed, watching him smile. 

“Trust me, it won’t be your last. You get bitten by the tattoo bug. Seldom anybody who’s ever had them stops at just one.” 

“Which was your most recent? Can I see?” she inquired.  

“Hmm, only if I took my jeans off,” he confessed.  

“You little tease,” she joked, winking. “Where is it? Anywhere naughty?” 

Was she... no. No, no. She wasn’t flirting with him. Why the hell would she? He knew he was reasonably attractive. Hell, he’d gone from zero to sex in five minutes with someone just thirty minutes before, but seriously. Holly Madden, or Jenkins as she now was, flirting with him? No.  

“It’s on my lower hip,” he confirmed, “cover up of the ex’s name.” Thanks to Kelsey, where Lisa’s name had once lay was now covered by an old school style black panther crawling its way up to his hipbone, a definite improvement now his wife no longer had any prominence in his life.  

“Do you do any of your own tattoos?” she asked out of curiosity, Nathan loading more violet onto the needle. 

“Have done in the past. I did my feet, but I’m not that great at tattooing myself. I do most of my own piercings, though. Save a couple.” 

“How many do you have?” 

He thought for a moment, counting. “Twenty-one. Used to be twenty-three, but I took my eyebrow ones out.”  

“And where are they all?”  

“Eight in my left ear, six in my right, one nostril, lip, two in my tongue, both nipples and one in my dick.”  

Immediately, she gasped. “Crapping hell! I bet that bloody hurt!” 

It would be fair to say he’d nearly gone through the roof. “Yep, a solid eight out of ten on the pain scale.” 

“Why on earth would you do something like that? And have two in your tongue? I bet that was painful, too!” she cried, shaking her head in amazement. 

“Same answer for both,” he smirked. “It’s purely a sex thing.” 

“Can I see them?” she asked, suddenly kicking herself as her stomach plummeted, her cheeks colouring. “The tongue ones, I hasten to add!” Oh, the depth of her cringe. Shit.  

He laughed softly, poking his tongue out and giving it a very rapid wiggle, the two black studs tapping against his teeth.  

Her eyes rounded, making an impressed little hum in the back of her throat. “Bloody hell. A man who can move his tongue that rapidly doesn’t really need any further enhancements, if you ask me.” 

“I know, but I like to show off,” he smiled, winking. Oh, oh yes. He could trust it. They’d definitely fallen into a little playful flirting. “What about you?” 

She felt a bit vanilla, compared to him. “Just my ears, one in each lobe and one at the top of my right. I always said I was going to get something else, too, but I never know what.” 

“Well, when you make up your mind, you know where I am,” he smiled, returning his focus to her tattoo.  

She couldn’t help herself. “You do seem particularly apt at sticking needles in people, so yes, I think I’ll trust it to you.” 

And neither could he. “Not just needles.” Again, he winked, Holly smiling a little shyly, definitely enjoying the exchange. Oh, and why the heck not? She was thirty-four-year-old single woman eleven months out of a terrible marriage. Why not flirt with the hottie doing her tattoo for her?  

“You little devil!” she giggled, Kelsey and Chris exchanging knowing looks from their respective stations, watching their friend enjoying the hell out of himself in flirting up a storm with his teen crush. It was quite surprising for them to witness, since earlier that day aside, he wasn’t overly brash with it. He still wasn’t even then, but he definitely had something about him that exuded a bit more charm than usual.  

At close to the hour mark, he gave her a little break, covering the tattoo for her with a piece of taped on kitchen paper so she could pop outside and make a phone call, taking his gloves off and grabbing his large vaping mod, going out to stand on the other side of the front door, blowing out plumes of sweetly scented vapour.  

“What is that?” she inquired, moving to his side once her phone call to her friend Kate was done, confirming that she’d be on time for their dinner plans later that evening. “It smells delicious!” 

“Strawberry bubble gum,” he replied, taking another lungful he blew out in a huge cloud ahead. “Because I’m a massive fanny who needs his nicotine with a nice flavour.” 

“Ahh, are you using it as a quitting smoking aid?” 

He shook his head. “Nah, I’ve never smoked cigarettes. They smell vile and make you stink, but after all the shit with my ex, I needed something to de-stress a bit, so I took up vaping.” He paused. “I’m aware that makes me look like a proper massive twat, but it is what it is.”  

She giggled softly. “No, it doesn’t. When I’m drunk, I buy those disposable vapes sometimes. They’re awful, and I know they’re bad for the planet, too! Drunk Holly cannot be held accountable, though.”  

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, same as drunk Nathan. He’s a pissing liability,” he chuckled. He paused, looking at her, the way she smiled at him, a sudden uprising of courage kicking him sharply. “Speaking of drinking, you busy later? Me and them two inside are heading to that bar just over the other side of the park tonight, Wolfpack. You fancy meeting up?” 

“Erm...” She quickly worked out times in her head. She and Kate were meeting at six, dinner could likely be an hour and a half, and they had said they’d go on someplace else afterwards. With the borough of Brent, where they currently were only just under twenty minutes via car from her home borough of Hammersmith, it was entirely possible that she could. “Yes, alright then. That’d be great!” 

His stomach all but caved in on itself with excitement. “Cool. I’ll be in there from about seven, ‘kay?” 

“Alright,” she beamed, feeling little darts prickling her tummy. “I’ll be there later; I have dinner plans with my mate first. Mind if I bring her along, too?” 

Blowing out another cloud, he shook his head. “Nah, no worries.” He might’ve appeared cool on the outside, but within, he had fireworks going off in his chest. He felt fifteen again, and as soon as Holly had left the shop half an hour later, it showed.  

“Blud, why you bouncing?” Chris asked, just the three of them all between clients, Nathan tapping the pen in his hand begin the counter as he bounced on his heels. 

“Has she moved away from the shop yet?” 

Kelsey turned to peer through the windows. “She’s just got into a black cab.” As soon as he heard that statement he jumped up and down a few times, punching the air. 

“Fucking got a date with her! She’s meeting us later! A few more air punches followed before he composed himself, taking a deep breath through his nose. “And I’m back to being a calm adult.”  

His friends shared a look, Kelsey thinking how adorable his excitement was. It was nice to see. He’d been bordering on morose at times since his split from Lisa. “Only taken you nineteen years, but you got there in the end, eh Gilly?” 

“Better late than never.” he replied, misting his station with antibacterial spray, his next client due to arrive at any moment. That client was a guy he’d originally met over in Dublin, who he’d reconnected with back in London a while ago. Alex was a gargantuan rugby player in the middle of having a full Japanese themed back piece done by Nathan, the appointment taking up the rest of his afternoon until they shut at 6:30pm.  

They worked long hours at the shop, Closed Sunday and Monday, but open from 10am – 7pm Tuesday to Thursday, and 10am – 9pm on Friday, 9am – 6:30pm on Saturday. With nowhere else to be since the dissolution of his marriage, Nathan had begun booking people in late on other weeknights too, giving himself something to take his mind off the fact that he was separated and truly didn’t really want to be. 

Well, that was only half true.  

He was very glad to be free of Lisa after how things had ended between them, but he’d liked being married. He really wasn’t the type of guy who was into playing the field, hence why his friends had been so alarmed at the speed he’d ended up shagging the girl earlier that day.  

In Nathan’s defence, he’d been horny. Very horny, and maybe just a tiny bit lit from the shot of vodka he’d had that morning upon waking, something to soothe his hungover brain. He made a point of never working under the influence, taking too much pride in his work for that, but one shot wasn’t the end of the world, and it had definitely helped him feel more human again.  

After finishing up the latest section of the huge dragon head upon his client’s back, he went and had a few more tots from the bottle of vodka in his fridge before taking a quick shower and changing, meeting his friends back in the shop before they locked up and headed across the park to Wolfpack. Cue Nathan to spend the next hour trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. Whenever anyone female entered the bar, his eyes snapped over, checking to see if it was Holly. Much tapping and neck scratching ensured. 

“Gilly, you’re going to give yourself carpal tunnel. Stop riffing!” Kelsey advised him, pulling his hand away from within his masses of hair. Immediately, he began drumming his fingers on the table. “Such a jittery boy!” 

He cringed slightly, looking perturbed as anxiety corded through his entire body. “Can’t help it, bruv. She’s too hot for me! I mean really, proper gorgeous, she is. And she’s meeting my scruffy rocker arse. Can’t cope, Kels.”  

He was so adorable. “Oh, no, no, no. There’ll be none of this. You, my friend, are bloody lovely. If I had to shag a guy, like if my life depended on letting a penis near me, I’d choose you. You’re a hottie, so stop sitting there looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and scratching like you’ve got the same amount of ticks as one!” 

“Still wanna hide,” he muttered, laughing at himself. 

Nathan was usually so chilled out, it was very odd for her to see him in any other way. Hell, the man had managed to score with a girl in less than five minutes just hours before, not that she really wanted to dwell on such an out of character occurrence too heavily, though.  

“Why though?” she cried gently, shaking his arm. “You were vibing so well with her earlier, and now look at you! Working yourself into a state.” 

“Yeah, but that was on my turf and now I just... ahh, pissing hell. Where’s Chris with those shots?” Turning his attention towards the bar, he could just about make out the sight of his bald head, thankfully appearing to be somewhat close to getting served. It was a very typically busy night. “It’s because it’s her. I’m telling you, she’s too hot for me.” 

“For the love of the virgin Mary’s bicycle!” she exclaimed, making him snort laugh. It was always ‘for the love of the virgin Mary’s’ something or other with her, and it never failed to crack him up. “Calm down, stop scratching your neck and just breathe! Where’s zen Nath? He needs to come back.” 

The back of his neck continued to receive a good scratching. “He’s otherwise engaged.” Looking towards the doors, he saw two women walk in, his heart hammering. Not her, thankfully. He needed the next round Chris was buying to arrive before Holly did.  

Thinning her lips, she contemplated her next statement for a moment. “This isn’t anything to do with Lisa, is it? She didn’t say anything rotten that’s dented you, did she? Because Jesus Harold Christ, I will knock her through the floor if she did.”  

Trust his favourite butch battleaxe on earth to be so protective. She always had been, and if you didn’t know how sweet and gentle Kelsey was, her sheer size alone cut her from a very intimidating cloth. He’d witnessed her knock out fully grown men in the past.  

He huffed slightly, raising his eyebrows before sinking the rest of his pint. “She said plenty of rotten things, but we don’t speak of her any longer.”  

Truly, Kelsey had hit the nail on the head. It was a little bit of his estranged wife’s nastiness making him nervous, but mostly it was a Holly specific. She was the girl he’d fancied from the ages of eleven to fifteen, and even though he was a grown thirty-four-year-old man, seeing her again had reminded him of being fifteen and way too shy and awkward to make a move on her.  

Luckily, Chris arrived back with a tray of drinks, buying them two pints and two shots each, save going up again with how packed the place was. Nathan’s two shots of Jägermeister had been sunk before he’d even sat down. 

“Blud, easy now!” he exclaimed, Nathan grimacing at the taste, but enjoying the warm feeling of the alcohol spreading through his chest. “You can’t be getting all wreck up before she even gets here, fam!” 

“I can and I will, bruv,” he joked, taking a big gulp of his fresh pint, his eyes once again flitting to the entrance. This time, it wasn’t a false alarm. “Oh, hell upon hell. She’s here.” 

His heart thundered in his chest at seeing her, her eyes scanning the crowd, smiling and waving when she saw him. God, she looked great. She was dressed casually in a figure-hugging black bodysuit with a high neck, her toned arms on show, and a pair of wide legged green trousers with very high heels that boosted her height up more than the flipflops she’d been wearing that afternoon.  

“I’m legit having palpitations.” he muttered, Kelsey wrapping her arms around him and kissing his forehead. By the time she arrived with him, he’d calmed down a little bit, Holly introducing her friend Kate to them all, the women taking a seat. Immediately, Holly began sniffing the air.  

“Oooh, what’s that lovely smell?” Sniffing around some more, she leaned closer to Nathan, identifying him as the source. “You smell delish!” 

“Thanks.” He would say that was the moment he calmed down, but no, because the way she viewed him so appreciatively, Nathan felt anything but. In a good way, though.  

[leclercskiesahead]

There's something genuinely wrong with you.

1. "Oh wow I missed the part where Carlos is Charles’ ‘future’ teammate instead of his current one. Some basic reading comprehension is highly recommended but I’m not surprised. You chirlies all seem to lack it." I never said you're talking about Carlos I said the character traits you have mentioned belong to CARLOS SAINZ and I simply gave you the recent examples would you like some more?

2. "Charles pushed Lewis off track when defending and later did another dangerous move in Monza 2019. And he’d already been black and white flagged btw. He was extremely lucky not to be penalised. If everything you claim Carlos did in Monza was illegal (casually left out Charles’ own lockup) then Monza 2019 was a slam dunk Lewis win."

I have included a video which you I'm sure didn't watch is from Jolyon Palmer who is unfortunately not a "Chirlie" saying its an illegal move which you lot refuse to accept because it wasn't broadcasted. Secondly it was Carlos who was risking the result because HE WAS MOVING UNDER BREAKING so if you call Charles move illegal that means Carlos is worse no? Just because he was not black and white flagged as you claim Ferrari drivers are not penalised in Monza right? So that cancels out your whole argument

3. "In China, Charles himself missed the apex so he can’t complain about anything anyone else does." EXCUSE ME???? EXCUSE ME????

It was CARLOS SAINZ WHO MISSED THE APEX you really never watched a single session in your live haven't you? Attached the video. Again it's a slam dunk penalty but Carlos is not investigated because it's a teammate incident https://x.com/EllySensei_/status/1781548681822601268?t=XN4jWqzS0GXW0o98B7G1Ng&s=19

4. Fred himself refuted the so called “damage” in Barcelona that Charles claimed he got on his car from “contact” with Carlos. Charles was just pulling excuses out of his ass.

The picture I added literally has the piece of front wing you dumbass at least bother to look but don't worry I'll point that out for you.

5. All 3 examples you want to bring up are just pure hard racing and it seems Charles can’t handle that because he complained about all of them except funnily enough, Monza. Maybe he knows he got lucky. Good for him! He’s not a hypocrite!

Wow wow wow moving under braking pushing teammate off track twice and hitting your teammate is now hard racing. I can give you more examples but you're the hypocrite here. And you're proud about being dumb as well it's actually insane.

6. "And if Singapore is soooooo hard to overtake on then Charles’ volunteering to start on softs would have gotten him P2, already an improvement from his own qualifying. Wow what a sacrifice."

LOL are you actually that dense or pretend to be? He was on softs he was faster than Carlos he would've overtaken Carlos he literally sacrificed his race by staying behind Carlos because Carlos was so much slower than George he would've been vulnerable and he would've burned his tyres which is Carlos' speciality. He created the FIVE SECOND buffer that helped Carlos. Again stay ungrateful but there's a reason your driver is not hired and it's because of this.

7. "I actually praised him back then for volunteering to start on softs in Singapore. But doing that and being so hurt (not even disappointed at his own result - HURT by another driver doing well, so bad that his coach feels compelled to bring it up publicly) by the result shows that he can’t handle the realities of F1."

CHARLES CAN'T HANDLE THE REALITIES OF F1 ????? CHARLES LECLERC??? what world are you living in must be nice to live with these delusions. Your driver was crying literally crying about a penalty.

Secondly you didn't even listen to the actual podcast you are so bitter about a clickbait article from Lawrence Baretto. Must he so easy to fool you lot irl.

Thirdly "his coach" is not some random loser he has worked with Lewis Hamilton & Michael Schumacher I'd say he knows what to say better than Lawrence Baretto's clickbait articles

Must be nice being this dumb in real life where you can just ignore selective parts of reality

Well you’re the one choosing to talk to me. If I’m so dumb why do you bother?

Charles instigated the Monza fight. He is the one who put them both at risk. And when Lewis instigated him in 2019 he was even more dangerous by chucking Lewis onto the grass where dangerous crashes have actually occured but Lewis was smart enough to back off because his championship lead wasn’t worth the danger (Lewis said this himself btw).

You know what I’m actually dumb. I really don’t see the fucking difference in the front wing. But even if I’m truly blind. Fred himself said they didn’t see any damage on the data so is that part really so significant. In fact considering their updates in Spain failed it might not have even made a difference.

Carlos *appearing* slower than George in Singapore - as the radio goes, yeah, that’s on purpose. Ferrari never intended to show its top speed at that race. And did it matter? When George chased down Carlos on equal tyres in the second stint, he never managed to pass. So Charles was not under threat of getting overtaken by George staying in P2. So it’s hardly a sacrifice - he had already gained one from his qualifying position. If he wants to race for the win, too bad, he should have chosen a different weekend to qualify better than Carlos. He should have sucked it up for once and he did try, no? He suggested to use softs himself. He was clearly reluctant to pull the gap Ferrari told him to. But he did it despite the reluctance. Good for him! Then it turns out he didn’t handle it too well emotionally and felt hurt.

And please show me the Carlos track record of burning his tyres because he’s not been regarded at Checo’s level but he’s never been considered hard on his tyres either.

And yes I’m saying it - Charles can’t handle the realities of F1. Well, he pushes through it. He wouldn’t be a professional athlete if he didn’t. But they affect him A LOT and it shows in various ways. If he’s so much better than Carlos then one single Carlos win shouldn’t shake him so much. It should just be a blip. Be disappointed then move on. Being hurt is a stretch.

And not just that, his career goes through extreme highs and lows and many lows could have been mitigated if he read the track situation better or - especially for Ferrari and their car development inconsistencies - focused on maximising the limits of his car instead of going over them. A lot of his bad performances came from the car being not the biggest shitbox, but also not competitive, and him trying to fight it instead of working within its limits. There’s a fine line between wanting to achieve more and being realistic with the tools (or tool - the car) at your disposal.

[leqclerc]

The entire picture around sainz amazes me. Like how you're going to rate him so high, how you're going to compare him against charles when he has one good race every 8 f1 weekends, how you going to call him better than Hamilton, how you going to say he's the best driver on the grid after max and then turn around and ask "is carlos sainz underrated"

Exactly. It's so funny imo for the media to be like "is CS underrated?" and make his ex/current teammate answer that question (which, like, wtf else are they going to say, they're hardly going to start beef in a press conference with him sitting right there lmao.) If anything he's overrated. As you said, he can be completely anonymous for multiple races in a row but one good weekend and he's suddenly better than Charles and basically on par with Max and should get the Red Bull seat. Not to mention Ferrari must be regretting "getting rid of the wrong driver." Okay? 🤨

Even at his lowest I think he gets a lot of grace. Outside the pool of British drivers he's basically the British pundit/journos golden child; the likes of Lawrence Barretto and Damon Hill consistently prop him up and add to this narrative of him being the "worthier" Ferrari driver, the faster one, the one with more prowess and exemplary leadership skills. Also the "consummate professional and dedicated team player." Yeah, until he starts binning planned strategies or impeding his teammate. 😑

The disappointing thing is, this is and will likely continue to be the mainstream narrative as long as these weekends happen. It's something I've noticed among "casuals" as well — unless you are deeply invested in the Ferrari ecosystem and constantly and closely following the developments, the interviews, the drivers' team radios, etc, the perception is basically: Even when Charles qualifies on pole he loses out to Max, sometimes even in the early laps of the race, and then can't manage to regain the lead, ergo he is ineffective; Carlos, meanwhile, "gets the job done" and, well, wins, ergo he is effective, Ferrari's sole hero, etc.

Obviously there's lots of factors that influence a race weekend or result. Hell, things might have looked different if Ferrari hadn't implemented team orders pretty much as soon as Max was out of the picture. We know this. But a lot of people don't, either through plain ignorance, or because they willingly dismiss the context in favour of the face value results, and the face value results say Carlos is the only non-RB race winner in the past year. And unfortunately the only way for this narrative to change is for Charles to, well, win. (I know we're only three races in and by all accounts Ferrari seem better equipped to challenge Red Bull this year than last year, so he may get a few opportunities to do so, but yeah. Carlos has been undoubtedly very lucky to always be in the right place at the right time to take advantage of the rare Red Bull mishap, and Charles needs to make sure he's putting himself in that position too, especially if the car is struggling in dirty air. Figures that the one time he broke his front row streak Max would have reliability issues 😭)

Also imo the hype is magnified by the fact that he's the someone other than Max that people desperately want to see winning. So much so that the "how" doesn't even matter anymore. The race was objectively boring but a lot of people are hyping it up and artificially bumping up the enjoyment meter just because the end result was a non-Max win. So he's got that on his side as well. But for me, I think how the race is won matters as well. Both times he took advantage of Max/Red Bull having a rare off day. Which, fine, this sport is about luck and capitalizing on these opportunities when they present themselves, I get that. But the real breakthrough will come when Ferrari is able to keep up with and beat Red Bull in the race on merit, not because they just got lucky. The closest we got to that so far is Vegas. If they can do that this year then we can start saying that Red Bull's got serious competition. Making thinkpieces out of hypotheticals because Max had a debilitating, race-ending issue with his car is not it.

[phxntomhives]

I'm resurrecting from the dead

Did you get the joke? No? Ok

Small analysis of this pic

But I'd like to remind you I am no expert on the topic, it's just my 2 cent lol

End of S4 spoilers + manga spoilers under the cut

I am quite confident this is dedicated to the midnight tea party of the anime right now. His identity has been revealed so what better way to celebrate than such a wonderful art?

The first thing I personally noted is the pose. Our dear yandere pose (I got Yuno war fleshbacks ngl) The smile, the hands, that eye. He has the full pack. We can all agree he goes a little insane when we talk about the Phantomhive... but yandere? I wouldn't say so (at least not yet, tho he may be on the correct road to become it). I guess he is dancing on the line between sanity and insanity and this is just the result of it.

Someone already said the liquid that is falling is tea. But I am also very much reminded of blood when looking at that color (and knowing his story, it also fits). Thought it may be just me. I would also like to point out how the tea is not just spilling over from the teapots, they are breaking. And Undertaker is just staring at the scene with insanity.

I am also going insane about all the hands: there is a right hand holding the sugar bowl. Then there is another right hand, holding a teacup which is also crumbling down. But that teacup is being "filled" of tea, that is dropping from above. Then there is also a left hand on the top, holding the teapot's handle (that is now detached from the main body). And there is a fourth hand, holding the dessert. So, here is my idea: the three hands that are holding the tea set represent 3 of the prefects: if I were to take a guess from here I would say that the broken teapot could be Herman Greenhill (the most broken one since he likely feels worst about the situation since he technically started everything). Then the sugar bowl could be Lawrence Bluewer: it is just being destroyed and has no power in the situation. The broken teacup is Edgar Redmond: he tried to hold it together but in the end he still lost control over the situation. Let me first go to the dessert now, I'll go to the other hand in a second.

The dessert. Listen, I am no expert in those but I know a strawberry when I see one. And I believe that is very much R!Ciel's favourite snack a strawberry cake. So listen, if we can discuss that the hand holding the teacup could be X or Y, here I am quite confident it is just R!Ciel. Not to mention that Undertaker is technically staring at him with the yandere look so it would make sense: he would be staring a Phantomhive AND an almost perfect Bizzare Doll he has created. I would go yandere too ngl. The dessert is being "watered" by the tea, which if I am correct and it does also symbolize blood, it could represent the idea/the begin of the blood transfution to keep R!Ciel alive. AND the dessert is being held by the last hand. Who were we missing of the P4 again? Violet. And who has casually the same blood type of R!Ciel? Violet. So I think this is him.

One last thing I noticed of the hands is that three of them are "in the dark" (both at the top and left one at the bottom: Lawrence, Greenhill and Redmond), while the one in the bottom right (Violet) is a little more illuminated than the others. Does this confirm/imply that Violet does already know a little more than the others? I'll let you make a decision I feel it may be just the light and I am becoming paranoid.

I absolutely LOVE how the background is the midnight flower glowing. It gives such a nice contrast in the picture. It also helps in making undertaker look even more ominous lolol. It's so bright and maybe it stands for everything pure you can think of. But Undertaker has turned his back to that light and is just enjoying the chaos. I am trying to find more stuff about the flower and its meaning let's see if I find something eheh

That is all thanks for bearing with me lol.

On a side note: did he always had that ring "tattoo" on his pinky? I am blind ✨✨

(I may check later for grammar mistaker I am tired now)

[gemini-sensei]

Uhh I can't remember the exact post and now I'm mad, but you talking about Lawrence!Reader has me thinking about the post where Hawk and Miguel think Robby is dating a new girl and their pissed, but really it's just his sister.

I think we need to make a comeback post for that~😈

Sensei-Venus💕✨

@sensei-venus I don't even know where that is but yes. I remember bits of it and it was something like Hawk and Miguel thought he was trying to cheat, and that's why they were pissed. But still yes, need more of that. (Unedited thought dump)

Like, they see Robby with this girl all the freaking time and at first it's like, "oh cool, he's got a girlfriend," but slowly it becomes weirder as they realize Robby is also trying to get with Sam... 👀

And it seems like every time they see Robby with this girl, something happens. They're hugging or she's playing with his hair or he's giving her his jacket because of course she left her own at home.

But to Robby and Reader, that's just their sibling dynamic. She's a hugging type of person and Robby craves a lot of nurturing attention likebthat. She loves ruffling his hair and messing it up because he makes it all too easy for her to do. When he gives her his jacket, he's just looking out for her well being as a good older brother would.

However, Miguel and Hawk are sure that those two are dating and they don't know what to do. Hawk wants to, naturally, beat him up. Because even though he was acting all tough and said he wanted a "full rotation" of girls, Hawk is huge on loyalty and such a thing would never actually happen. So to see Robby, this supposed goof guy, two timing someone who looks so sweet and happy, upsets Hawk. He wants to tell her the truth.

Miguel wants to tell Sam. He wants her to see Robby isn't that great of a guy. Maybe that'll push her back into her arms if he's honest with her about what he's been seeing and learning about one Robby Keene.

Omg imagine Sam has met Reader though and they're fast friends. She knows Reader is Robbys sister so of course she knows there nothing to worry about...

But one day at the mall, Hawk sees Reader and decides to approach her. He starts with a seemingly casual introduction and as soon as he learns her name, he cuts to the point.

"Look, I'm just gonna come out and say it. That guy you've been seeing is a total asshole. He's trying to date some other girl out in Encino."

Reader looks at him confused and asks, "what guy? What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about two timing Robby Keene."

"You did not just say that..."

"I did. I'm sorry to break it to you, but I just thought you deserved to know. A pretty girl like yourself-"

"He's my brother, you mohawkwd idiot!"

Whatever sweet demeanor she had before is gone and replaced with a rough and tough look of anger. For a moment, Hawk feels like he's seen that look before, and as the pieces fall into place - brother, that look, her quickness to anger - he realizes he's talking to Sensei's daughter.

"Oh shit!"

"Oh shit is right! What the hell is wrong with you? Do you just spend time spying on girls or something? What the fuck would make you think I was dating my own brother? Who even are you?"

She's mad. She's so fucking mad and Hawk doesn't know how to fix this. He just kind of stands there, frozen as she berates and badgers him for the mistake. She calls him a creep before telling him to watch himself because she knows karate-

"And if I ever catch you watching me again, I'll kick your ass so hard, you'll need more than a prayer to fix the damage."

She walks away in a huff and Hawk watches her go, red faced with a burning fire in his heart. He's never been so turned on in his whole life, but doesn't doubt the part about kicking his ass. Peek scared but horny.

Miguel gets a text that just reads: HOLY SHIT WERE IDIOTS THEYRE SIBLINGS!!!

And doesn't know what that references until he meets up with Hawk later, who recounts the incident to him.

Side note, but I totally see Reader and Robby has half siblings. They just don't care about the "half" part. Like, Reader lived with her mom primarily but forced Johnny to spend time with their daughter and that's why they're closer than Robby and Johnny are l, but it was never every weekend or something like that. It also put Robby in some awkward positions growing up and at one point he was jealous of her relationship with their dad, but then they started hanging out away from Johnny and that really made their bond stronger. Reader's mom and Shannon are cool and joke to each other all the time that the only good thing Johnny did for them was give them great kids (Shannon never struck me as the type to get petty about any other women in the lives of the guys she slept with. She's more the type to be friends with the other woman and take the guy down, imo at least lol). I don't know. This is just the lil backstop my brain came up with 😅