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kissyrafe · 2 days ago

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sex with rafe but you're taunting him as a trick for him to get more aggressive w it

cw: smut, fem!reader, rough sex, teasing/taunting, jealousy sex, unprotected p in v sex, friends w/ benefits, mirror sex, i think i'm in love with over-the-counter sex, (not proofread!!!)

"i don't know what game you're tryna play right now-" rafe sounded pissed off as he dragged you by your arm into the bathroom. "but cut it out." he stared at you as you leaned against the marble counter, back pressing into the cold stone. he pierced through you with just a look, enough to make your knees weak.

"what game? i don't know what you're talking about." you smiled impishly, playing with the hem of your jean mini skirt. the truth was, you were oh so loving 'the game'. you saw how rafe stared at you the whole night as you flirted with another guy in the group. touching his arms and chest, leaning against him, everything. it was all to get a rise out of rafe, knowing he doesn't like it when you're around other guys; as if it mattered.

to clear it up, rafe and you are not together by any means. from the start of this "relationship", it was apparent that both of you were only looking to relieve yourselves sexually. there were to be no emotional connections. but still, you both can't help but feel slightly jealous when the other one is with someone else.

"cut the bullshit." rafe stepped closer to you, now peering down at your figure. "don't think i didn't see you basically throwing yourself at him." he scoffed, biting the inside of his cheek from frustration. rafe hated seeing you treat other guys the way he wanted only you to treat him. but obviously, he couldn't just come out and say it, that would mean you had something over him, which he hated even more; feeling weak.

"like i said," you adjusted yourself on the counter and stood on your toes, your mouth now leveled with rafe's ear, "i don't know what you're talking about," you whispered softly. rafe let out a small laugh, his voice velvety smooth. his large arms traveled to either side of you, making sure you went nowhere.

the tension and silence were so, very, hot. neither of you said anything as you stared into each other's eyes. this was a battle. swallowing the clump in your throat, you felt rafe's hand travel down under your skirt and to the plush skin of your thigh, inching closer to your core. "do you think he can satisfy you like i do?" he asked smugly, feeling the soaked fabric of your panties.

"oh rafe," you sigh, a smile creeping onto your face "i know he can make me feel so much better than you do."

"wanna make that bet?"

your weak hands gripped the edge of the counter as rafe pounded into you from behind. small moans escaped your mouth and filled the room, along with the sound of light skin slapping. "do you still think he fucks better than me?" rafe demanded, knowing the answer already. but what he forgot was that you can be more stubborn than him.

you nod your head, looking at rafe through the mirror as he frowns. "s-s'. much. b-better." you stutter out as you feel rafe going faster, your eyes shutting. he scoffed, sensing your bluff. his calloused hand came to your neck, squeezing around you tighter with every thrust into your sweet cunt.

"just admit it, y'know you want ta." he smirked, seeing how fucked out you were already. it never took long to make you release and succumb. rafe knew for a fact you'd never find anyone better than him, or at least anyone better at fucking you than him. maybe it was the way you would squirm as he entered you, or your sweet, delicate, moans and whimpers that flowed out your mouth like symphonies.

your walls wrapped around rafe's dick, lewd noises appearing with every push he made into you. at this point you could barely even hold yourself up. he made your whole body weak as you were fucked senseless by him.

it drove rafe mad how you successfully made him jealous, how you had a hold on him. i mean really, the kook king was jealous of some lowly guy who didn't know jack shit about you or the secret places on your body that would make you limp. he knew it was a mistake to just treat you like a fling because he wanted you to just be his.

"you can fuck, but you can't make a girl feel good," you choked out, knowing how to push his buttons. "is that so?" rafe merely took that as a sign to slow down his thrusts, but he only went in deeper. you could practically feel his cock bulging into your stomach from how far he went. your mouth hung open as you moaned, eyes swelling with tears from pleasure. you felt it to your core. "i'm the only one that can make this pussy feel good, yeah?"

you felt your orgasm build from rafe's low thrusts as he hurried his pace again, his orgasm approaching too. "r-rafe, i-i..." you fell incoherent and unable to form any real thoughts. "sweet thing is 'boutta cum all over m' cock," rafe was amused seeing you like this, so raw and flushed from pleasure. "c'mon, show me how this dick feels, tell me." with his hand still around your neck, he made you look at him again through the mirror. "d'ya see how you look? all 'cause of me?"

"c-cumming, rafe! pleaseplease!" you felt your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came undone all over rafe's cock, much to his enjoyment. you felt his thrusts stutter as his seed poured into you, making your body surge with pleasure and warmth.

rafe slowly pulled out of you, making you feel so... empty. he turned you around to face him as he tried catching his breath. you looked at him with tired eyes when his hand went up to your face, holding one of your cheeks softly. "don't ever use a guy to make me fuck you again, or i won't go gentle. alright?"

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creamecafe · 2 days ago

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hii could u write something for Dae-ho set in the mingle game and its basically just him protecting reader and always keeping them at his side. 🫶🫶🫶

"As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you"

Summary: What the request says

Pairing: Dae-Ho x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

Warnings: fluff, comfort, pining

Word Count:

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy!

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

It's a miracle that you have made it to the third game. You were sure you were going to die in the second game, but thanks to the team you had, you were more than determined to still stay alive

Out of all them, there was one that you kept looking at. Dae-Ho. You couldn't help but find him cute. This certainly wasn't the place to have feelings as you could die before telling him.

It was the same for Dae-Ho, trying to make sure everyone is ok and that the team survives. But it was something with you.

He felt safe with you, and wanted to protect you. Even if it meant giving his life for you.

The announcement for the third game came, you were worried, but wanted it to be over it. Dae-Ho noticed you being anxious and asked if you okay

"Are you okay?"

You stopped zoning out and looked at him with your heart pounding.

"What? Y-yes I'm ok thank you." Nodding trying to reassure yourself.

"I think this might be the last game I play in." You chuckled knowing deep inside you dreaded the idea

"Hey look at me."

You did as he said. "Don't say that, you have us."

He held out your hand to hold it. You looked at it and hesitated putting your hand out but you held it. A tight squeeze was given but not too rough. It was a sign of reassuring.

He gives you a smile and you did too not of full happiness but someone is here to care about you.

All of you guys were called for the game. You got up and stayed close to Dae-Ho. He looked back at you and nodded. You did the same.

It was the same, climbing up those colorful but dreading stairs to the next game. Every minute or two, Dae-Ho made sure you were right behind him.

You finally reached the game and saw a carousel in the middle with horses and so many doors of different bright colors for a Pre-K setting.

"Welcome to your third game." The woman's voice from the previous games you heard came on the speakers.

"The game you will be playing is Mingle. Let me repeat. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

Turning your head to look at Dae-Ho, he's already looking at you.

You quickly look away not to make the situation worse. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable as well.

"All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh this game? We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging." Jung-bae exclaimed.

"Yeah. Instead of hugging, we go into those rooms" Dae-Ho mentioned.

"If the number is bigger than six, we'll get the additional people we need." Gi-Hun

And if it's less than that? You thought in your mind

"But what if it's smaller than five? Like three or four

You turned your head to Dae-Ho. It's like he read your mind exactly.

"No matter what happens, don't panic. Let's stay calm," Young-il nods. "We'll make it out together. Here."

Those words echoing in your mind, there wasn't enough time to doubt if your group would stick with you.

You've seen how quickly people are to turn against each other especially in the Red Light, Green Light.

But you're more than determined to stay alive, just to see Dae-Ho's face every chance you get.

Young-il puts the back side of hand out to form a truce. One by one, everyone is putting their hands on top of each other. You were the last one.

"Y/N. Are you in?" Gi-Hun asks.

Dae-Ho looks at you with worry in his eyes. You had no choice and no knowledge of trusting others in this game, so you put your hand out on top.

Dae-Ho becomes relieved at this.

"One, two, three. Victory at all costs."

Sighing at this with relief, you guys begin to spread out. The carousel is starting to spin

People scream out in fear. Lights go out and the light in the middle where horses out lights ups and music plays.

Children are singing about holding hands and ringing around.

Dae-Ho holds your hand lightly. He grazes your hand with his thumb. You don't look at him, as you fear you'll die doing so.

It suddenly stops. The number is 9. People are running out frantically pairing in groups of 9. Dae-Ho doesn't let go of your hand.

"We need 3 more." You said. Your group ran looking for 3 more.

A old lady, her son and another woman goes up to you guys.

"Are you guys 3?" Young-il asks

"Yes we're." The old lady nods frantically.

"Quickly we got to get into a room" Gi Hun exclaims

Your feet were starting to move, but the grip of Dae-Ho holding your hand made you move even faster.

All of you guys rushed into a room and closed the door. The room was filled with heavy breaths. There was a click on the lock meaning that the room was closed and nobody can get in or out.

Right now, you have never been more grateful to be alive in playing a game

It wasn't long before you heard gunshots, and it was safe to assume it was those who didn't pair up or get into rooms in time.

Now that you're safe, you look at Dae-Ho and he does too.

"Is everyone ok?" Dae-Ho asks

There was a lot of yes. That answer might change throughout the game seeing how long each of us might last.

The door lock clicked and you guys were allowed to come out. There were bodies on the floors and blood splattered. "Take off your mind off those bodies or you'll be one of them" Your mind was telling yourself.

"We got this" Dae-Ho talks to you

"We do" You smiled. Don't know how many smiles it will take to keep going, but you're ready to prove his point.

The game started again and the carousel spins. You hold out to Dae-Ho's hand.

Now the number was 4. Young-il grabs Jung-Bae and goes to find two more people. That's left Gi-Hun, Jun-Hee, Dae-Ho and you left.

There was no time to waste. All four you ran to a room and locked yourself in. Gi-Hun was looking around for Young-il. You pulled him back in.

The gunshots came again. The lesser the number, the more likely people will betray each other.

How long this game will last, you don't know. All you know is that you have people here to help you. Even if it's just one person, it makes all the difference.

The doors clicked and it was time for another round. The panic and adrenaline of it all keeps coming back. But Dae-Ho is making sure you're by his side, even if he may die in the game as well.

Six the group was. Dae-Ho said you and him were going to go and find another group. Luckily you did and you managed to still be alive locked in a room.

Now it all came down to the very last game. There were less people than the game started. You wanted to finish this for once and for all. While the carousel was spinning and music playing, you place yourself in movement ready to run and holding Dae-Ho's hand.

"2" The voice said.

It felt like time was going slow once it announced the number. Everybody is rushing to get into a room. Time's running out.

You felt a hand pull you back and you fell to the ground. Dae-Ho heard your scream and saw someone trying to stop you from going into a room. Someone else was already in the room that you guys were planning to go into.

Dae-Ho could go into the room and that would already make it two. But he's made it too far to leave you.

He ran and punched the guy that pushed you. He put you back on your feet and dragged the other guy out. He slammed the door shut and the timer just came to zero. The guy on the other side begs and bangs on the door.

A pink guard shoots him and the noises stop.

"Are you ok?" Dae-Ho rushes to you.

Still shaken at what happened, at the fact you almost died if it wasn't for him to save you, you nodded.

"Yes I am. Thank you."

There was a moment of silence between you too as you were catching your breaths.

The door clicked and you both came out.

"Y/N! Dae-Ho!" Both of your names were being called

Gi-Hun, Young-il, Jung-Bae and Jun-Hee run up to you guys and you all hug each other.

"I'm so glad you guys are ok." Jun-Hee smiles

You're also relieved that everyone else is fine and made it out alive. You could return back to the dorms.

Walking down back the stairs and into the dorms, everyone was mostly silent but some talked.

You ran up and tapped Dae-Ho on the shoulder.

"Hey Dae-Ho?"

"Yes Y/N?"

"You could have gone into the room where the other guy before you dragged him out, why didn't you?"

Dae-Ho took a pause before responding.

"I have lost many people when I was a marine, seen people get killed in front of me. I can't let it happen to you."

He starts to become close to you but not too close.

"As long as I'm still alive, I'll make sure you're fine. That's a promise I tend to keep Y/N."

Those words stuck with you. You could die in the next game, but right here at this moment is a reason to keep going.

Taglist:

@hobinistaworld

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Kang Dae-Ho Masterlist | Join my taglist!

#creamecafe #kang daeho #daeho #squid game #squid game spoilers #squid game x reader #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #kdrama #dae ho x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #squid game fanfic #kang daeho x reader #pining #slow burn #jang x reader #mingle squid game #please reach the right audience

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captain-kit-adventuress · 2 days ago

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I really, really, really want to underscore just how difficult life with ADHD can be for neurotypicals who can't seem to understand.

I have known people who deeply struggle with task switching to the point that it is difficult, and sometimes next-to-impossible for them to be able to get to the bathroom in a timely manner. It's not because they can't feel the need to go, it's not because they're doing something so fun and just can't quit. They could have been quietly sitting on the sofa, doing nothing, and when that urge hits, they Just. Can't. Do. It. And they were properly medicated! They were in therapy! So it wasn't a matter of trying hard enough, it was a matter of their brain does not work like other brains and there is no safe, sustainable, non-traumatic way to make a neurodiverse brain work neurotypically.

I have known people with ADHD who struggle from severe sleep disorders that no amount of medication or sleep hygiene or anything else could shift. Because of this, it was literally impossible for them to hold a job, or go to school, or anything that required any sort of time management or stakes. They couldn't drive, certainly, it was far too dangerous because they were prone to falling asleep. Not everyone has access to reliable public transportation, and a lot of times, public transport just...doesn't go the places people need it to.

I have known people with ADHD who, for any scenario you can come up with, had absolutely no way to "overcome" the barrier, because the barrier is that there is no safe, sustainable, non-traumatic way to make a neurodiverse brain work neurotypically. Some were medicated, some were not. Some were in therapy, some were not. Some were in varying states of both.

I sometimes am that person with ADHD; one of my worst examples is that I, too, should not be allowed to drive because while I wasn't medicated, I couldn't even remember what colour the light was for long enough to not just drive right through it if there were no other cars, and where I live definitely has red light cameras. Even while medicated, I can't drive if there's another person in the car because it's too distracting (terrifying for you and the other passengers) or because I hyperfocus on what's right in front of me, trying to be careful, and will drive through a seemingly empty red light and not see that there's cross traffic. I made it through school because I could do my degree 100% remote (it was intended for working people, but I benefitted from it too) and I had to devote myself to it like it was my full-time job just to graduate. But I can't work, because so far, no amount of medication and therapy has been able to make my brain work the way neurotypicals demand.

ADHD isn't just some sort of like weird inability to focus that we can just turn off if we try hard enough. It's not about can't sit still until we find inner peace and can. It's not about struggling with task switching until we try hard enough that we can suddenly do it. It's not hyperfocus until we just relax enough to get out of it. The point is that it never, ever stops and these struggles can mix and match in really weird ways that don't necessarily look like what you think ADHD is. It is, at its most basic, my brain does not work like the majority of other people's brains and I can't make it do that in a safe, sustainable, non-traumatic way, no matter how much you want me to.

The only thing that truly helps the greatest number of people reliably is compassion and accommodation, and no one is ever going to be 100% what neurotypicals want. That's it. We have to live with it, and so do you. Asking us to try to rewire everything in a way that doesn't exist for your own convenience is monstrous, especially when compassion and acommodation are easier and far kinder.

There is no cure for ADHD, and there shouldn't need to be.

The thing about ADHD is that the "lack of reward chemicals in your brain" doesn't just mean that you don't want to do any tasks that don't feel particularly yummy :(, it means that your brain will look at chores and tasks that need to be done like "doing this would be painful and tedious for absolutely nothing to gain from it, Do Not Do That." The same thing that your brain tells you about everything else that would feel really bad and hurt the entire time that you're dying. The part of your brain that stops you from doing the thing is the same part that keeps you from shoving your arm into a wood chipper.

With unmedicated, unmanaged ADHD, "I have to do this assignment or I fail and my life will be ruined and I die" feels like a SAW trap, every single time.

#tl;dr: stop being dicks when people aren't convenient to you

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luckykiwiii101 · 2 days ago

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😭😭😭 I ENTERED THE VOID STATE AND IT'S LITERALLY CHANGED MY WHOLE VOCAL CORDS!!! Like, WHOA. 😱 You guys don't even understand. Before all of this, I was a mess. Lemme tell you the full tea.

So like, I used to cry at night, scrolling through Tumblr, seeing everyone else manifesting their dream lives while I was stuck in the same old cycle. 😩 You KNOW the feeling! I even DELETED my Tumblr at one point because I was SO sick of seeing everyone else actually living their dreams, but then I would redownload it like the next day because I couldn't resist!! And then...the whole studying-for-exams thing? LOL don't even get me started. Like, I'd be like "I'll just enter the void state before my exams and manifest straight A's or whatever" (spoiler alert: I didn't.) I'm never really failed any subjects. At least not badly😬

I was starting to get frustrated, right? So then, one day, I was like OKAY, FINE. TIME TO ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING. And that's when I started SATS (State Akin To Sleep). It sounded crazy at first, but honestly, I was down to try anything! (Even while coping with my MADD. Yes I'm one of them. No I'm never getting rid of it.) So I started visualizing my dream life, and LET ME TELL YOU, I GOT SO DETAILED. I was in Velaris with Rhysand (I'm an ACOTAR fan), feeling his WINGS!!! I was literally touching them and just imagining how amazing it would feel to be surrounded by magic and beauty. And I wasn't even thinking about entering the void or anything. I was just feeling the vibezzz. Like, I know that it felt real, and that's what mattered.

Fast forward to a month and 3 weeks of doing SATS (Yes, I skipped some days, but WHO CARES? 😤). And guess what happened? I woke up today, and BOOM! I was in the void! Like, I didn’t even need to know how it happened, it just DID. I just said "Anything i say comes true exactly the way I want it." I said it over and over and over. Until I decided it was enough. Then I thought of leaving, and I was back in my room. Thank goodness I didn't think of leaving when I first entered, because this was literally like a lifetime opportunity I couldn't screw it up.

I actually had to safeguard myself, by saying "I am not impulsive". And the urge to say nonsense just disappeared ✨ That was the first thing I said when I woke up. So I wouldn't say any crazy shit. And so I was sitting there, ready to just start manifesting everything I ever wanted. I even started writing my script. maybe that was just an adrenaline rush.

But here’s the thing...GUYS, NOW THAT I’M HERE....in my room with this "ability"...I’m actually kinda missing my old self. Not the sad, desperate me, but the me who was SUPER EXCITED about just wandering around Velaris at night and dreaming of all this happening. Like, I actually miss that excitement. Looking through Pinterest and seeing the interior of a mansion, and be like "I'll be there soon", seeing pics of tasty food on instagram and saying "I'll eat that soon" I know it sounds crazy, but when you finally get everything you thought you wanted, it’s like...IDK...a little too perfect? 😬

Like, I know this sounds wild— and weird, but it’s TRUE. It's true for me right now. I'm gonna be blunt. The success story is not as exciting when you’re like actually living it, you know? Or maybe it's just me. Like, I’m just over here typing this at 4 AM, feeling kinda melancholic. And kinda (scared). Yes, I wanna enjoy my desires, but... I don't know. I don't want to get too curious and stray from Velaris trying to find out the secret behind ALL of this. For goodness sake, this is crazy!!! My voice is a genie!. It's already bugging me now. I know, I KNOW, this is probably not what you expected from a success story, but I’m being REAL.

I’ve written like 3 pages of my script so far, and I’m just gonna finish it tomorrow. No rush. Because honestly? Rhysand’s not going anywhere. 😉

And YOU can do this too. I know some of you might feel like “Oh, it’s impossible, I keep failing!” but like, just take a second and realize YOU'RE ALREADY GETTING CLOSER THAN YOU THINK. I was stuck too, and look where I am now. Don't look at the part where— I'm kinda ungrateful. But the part where I'm finally gonna meet Rhysand. YOU’RE SO CLOSE. It’s all coming together, trust me! 💖✨

But yeah, it’s 4 AM, I’m gonna go back to bed now, lol. Don’t let the void stress you out, okay? Take it easy. You’ve got this. ✨✌🏼

Also, love you kiwiii💖💖💖💖

SUCCESS STORY

First of all, I’m so happy for you and proud of you. You really put your foot down and gave yourself what you wanted.

I can understand what you mean when you say the success story isn’t exciting when you’re actually living it. But when it’s right in-front of you, it doesn’t feel like this out of reach thing you’ve put on a pedestal anymore. It’s just yours. And it feels normal.

But for some people, I think a big part of that came from the dopamine rush people would feel when they’d tell themselves that they’ll have it one day. And when they have it in the 3D, they just feel peaceful with it because there’s nothing to “chase” anymore.

I agree with most of what you said apart from “you’re so close”. With the law of assumption there is no process. You ARE the void. Anyway enjoy having your desires. I’m really happy for you!!😭 Love you too beautiful ♥️

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa tumblr #loassumption #loa blog #loablr #manifestation #loa #the void state #loa manifestation #void state success stories #void success story #loa success story #void success stories #void state success story

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v6quewrlds · 22 hours ago

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Joe Burrow + Fluff/Angst ❤️‍🔥

imagine being joe's gf at ohio state.

In the dimly lit living room of a cramped college apartment, your laughter filled the air as you watched Joe and his friends engage in a heated round of Madden. The laughter of the girls contrasted with the cackling of the guys as they trashed talked each other's virtual football skills. You leaned back into Joe's warmth, your head resting comfortably on his broad shoulder. His arms wrapped around your waist, locking you in place against him as he held his controller tightly, eyes glued to the TV screen.

One of the girls handed you the dwindling blunt and you took a slow drag. You could feel the tension building in Joe's shoulders as you balanced the blunt between your thumb and index finger, you knew he was getting ready to make a big play. The boys went quiet, anticipating the outcome, and then erupted in cheers and disappointed complaints as Joe scored a touchdown. He leaned back, smugly grinning, and kissed your cheek before turning his attention back to the game.

You smiled to yourself as you held the blunt up to Joe's mouth for him to take a hit. His eyes remained on the game, but his expression grew serious as he took it from you. He inhaled deeply, the tip glowing brightly before he released it from his mouth. The smoke curled around your friends, adding a layer of comfort to the already cozy atmosphere. You felt his shoulders relax slightly as his jaw unclenched, the smoke escaping through his lips like second nature.

“You want more?” you asked softly, turning a bit to look at Joe.

“Nah, I’m good for now.” He turned down another hit, his gaze still on the game. You handed the blunt off to the next eager participant and turned your attention back to Joe. His eyes flickered over to yours, and you saw the flicker of lowered inhibitions as his high began to set in.

The conversation grew louder as the game continued, and the topic of football inevitably shifted toward Joe's future at Ohio State. One of the guys, Shawn, a high-school friend of Joe's, brought the topic up with a nonchalance that drew a silent frown out of you. “Joe, you really think you're gonna stay?” he asked, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

Joe simply shrugged, his thumbs never faltering on the controller. “I don't know, man,” he replied, his voice thick with the smoke he'd just inhaled. “It's kind of up in the air right now.”

You sat up straighter. This was news to you. You thought the two of you had put the transfer talk to rest after his spring game last week. The last time you talked about it, Joe mentioned that it wasn't super realistic for him to start over at a new program with only two more years of eligibility left. But here he was, casually talking about it with his friends like it was something he was still seriously considering.

You held back the urge to press him on the matter right there. Instead, you reached for your phone to pretend you were scrolling through social media while your mind raced with questions. The others around you kept talking about it, asking Joe questions about the rumors, but you tried your best to keep your cool.

“What schools you lookin' at?” one of the other guys, Corey, asked, leaning back into the couch cushions.

Joe took a sip of his drink before answering. “Couple of options. Maybe UC or LSU. Gettin' a visit from Coach O soon, so we'll see what that's all about.”

You felt your stomach drop. The University of Cincinnati was still in Ohio, but LSU? That was a whole different world, a place where you would be a fourteen-hour drive away from him. You tried to keep your face neutral, not wanting to make a scene, but your body grew rigid against Joe's chest involuntarily. The conversation around you grew more animated as the guys threw out more names of schools with storied football programs. Your mind was racing, trying to understand what had changed since your last talk about his future.

As the conversation switched to a different topic, you couldn't help but feel a growing knot in your stomach. The room's chatter became a distant buzz as you processed the potential reality of Joe leaving Ohio State, and with it, the comfort of your relationship. You stared at the TV screen, watching the players run across the digital field, but your thoughts were a million miles away.

You released a breath before turning to whisper in Joe's ear, “Transferring is still on the table?” Your voice held a hint of accusation, but Joe's eyes remained on the game.

“Yeah, I know I said it wasn’t realistic, but things have changed a little,” Joe murmured, his eyes flicking to yours briefly before returning to the game. “My spring game put other schools on notice, and it’s not like Urban’s made a decision yet. Dwayne and J.T. are still in the mix, and I can’t just sit here and wait around, you know?”

You nodded, your throat tight. You knew Joe was a talented player who wanted - and deserved - more than just riding the bench, waiting in the wings for his big break. But you hadn't anticipated it would happen this way. Your heart was racing, and you took a sip of your drink to calm yourself. You didn’t want to argue in front of his friends, so you leaned back into his embrace, trying to keep your feelings in check. As if extending an olive branch, Joe's arms tightened around you, his chin coming to rest on the top of your head.

#&. joey b.#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black!reader #joe burrow angst #joe burrow imagine #x black!reader #x black reader #black!reader #black fem reader

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merrybloomwrites · 3 days ago

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It's Just a Game, But Really

Summary: When your brother starts dating Taylor Swift, you figure your wild dreams of dating Harry Styles are now definitely crushed. But some meddling from Jason, Travis, and Taylor may make some dreams come true after all.

Word Count: 3K

AN: This idea randomly popped into my head months ago and I couldn't get it out until I fully wrote it. I feel like this falls into the category of "Crack treated seriously" lol

Also, I understand this is niche, but as an Eagles fan (pls don't come for me) I've watched the entire Travis/Taylor relationship unfold and just thought this would be silly. Writing Jason and Travis was pretty fun too since I've been listening to their podcast for years and it was a cool challenge to write in their voices

Finally, I took creative liberty here and while I normally try to keep details as close to reality as possible, I've changed some things. So the Packers vs Eagles game that happened in Brazil now takes place in philly, and the Chiefs game on Christmas is now against Baltimore so it would be plausible to have the dinner scene in PA. None of this actually matters, this is fiction lol

Title from "So High School" by Taylor Swift

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Growing up with two athletic brothers had been quite an experience. Hundreds of hours were spent at sporting events, often bundled up to watch them play ice hockey or attend the late season football games. In your family, it was important that everyone supported each other.

It went the other way as well. Your brothers attended every spring concert, theater performance, and dance recital you were in. They were your biggest fans, always cheering you on and bringing flowers to give you.

They also took time to learn about your interests. Instead of getting annoyed when Taylor Swift’s music would play through the house, they started listening.

Especially Travis.

He liked the music, and thought she seemed pretty cool. He didn’t admit it, but you guessed that maybe he had a bit of a celebrity crush on her.

Life continued to change as your brothers left for college, then moved to different cities when they got signed to two different NFL teams. You missed them, but it was great seeing them succeed.

Jason and Travis still made time for family, even when Jason got married and started a family of his own. You and Kylie became friends right away, and you immediately loved having another girl in the family. You couldn’t wait for it to be Travis’s turn to find someone. But preferably not through his dating show.

When Taylor Swift announced her Eras Tour, you desperately wanted to go. So you were highly disappointed when you weren’t able to get tickets.

And then Travis surprised you with tickets to her show in Kansas City. By this point you had moved in with Jason and Kylie near Philly, but Travis assured you that he’d take care of all the travel logistics to get you to the concert.

You flew in the night before, getting to spend the day with your brother before heading to the stadium. It was weird to be there for a concert, having attended numerous games there before. It was cool to see how it was transformed into something almost unrecognizable.

Being there with Travis meant getting to be seated with a great view in a cordoned off section. It also meant Chiefs fans coming close to the barrier to talk to him before the show. Watching your brother trade friendship bracelets with these people was a strange moment, one you never would have imagined happening.

Through all that, there was one bracelet he had that you noticed he wouldn’t trade. Taking a closer glance you see what’s written on it and give him a confused look.

“Travis, what in the world is this?” you ask.

“Friendship bracelet,” he answers simply, dodging your true question.

“Obviously. But why is your number on here? Who is this for?”

He laughs nervously but before you can press it further another fan comes up to say hi. You can’t help but wonder what his plan is for that bracelet, even though you have a pretty good idea who its intended recipient is.

The concert begins and you have a wonderful time, dancing and singing along, Travis just as excited beside you. As it ends, Travis speaks with one of the staff members, looking slightly disappointed but not too bothered. Once again you’re left wondering what that was all about.

It’s a couple weeks later and you’re listening to the latest episode of Travis and Jason’s podcast when they bring up Travis attending the concert. Sure enough, he confirms he was trying to get that bracelet with his number to Taylor, and you have to commend him on his creativity and optimism.

What you don’t expect is for Taylor to find out about that and get in touch with Travis. Now a year later, your brother is in a happy, committed relationship with Taylor Swift. She’s come to family dinners, you’ve been next to her during Chiefs games, and she’s made it so you could come to a number of concerts on her tour. You cannot believe that this has become your life. And you have to give your brother credit for his powers of manifestation.

One afternoon you’re hanging in the living room while Jason records the podcast in the basement. He calls out for you and you go down to see what’s going on.

He hands you a set of headphones so you can hear Travis as well, and fills you in on the topic.

“So,” Jason begins. “Fans are starting to give you credit for Travis and Taylor getting together. Do you think that’s fair to say?”

You laugh for a moment that this is why you’re called to speak on what should be a sports podcast, before answering, “I think that’s fair. I mean, he did the work but I would say my childhood Swiftie obsession planted the seed.”

Travis replies, “You don’t think I would have found out about her on my own?”

“Oh you totally would have. But I got the ball rolling ages ago. Timing is everything, what if you’d been too late?”

“Alright, I’ll give you that. We can say you had a hand in this.”

“So that means you owe me,” you say.

Jason chimes in, “Yea Trav, your turn to manifest for Y/N.”

“You want me to manifest a boyfriend for our little sister?” Travis questions.

“Oh, right, wait, don’t actually do that. I forgot, Y/N’s not allowed to date until she’s forty,” Jason says, leading you to roll your eyes at his overprotectiveness.

“Ok, but if I were to try, who would it be? Y/N, who’s your celebrity crush?” Travis asks.

There’s no way you’re answering that on camera, especially with who the answer actually is. You clench your teeth and lift your eyebrows before cheekily saying, “Oh, no, I cannot answer that on the pod. That’s uhm. That’d be messy.” You then shrug and laugh, trying to play all of this off as a bit.

While Travis tries to dig and get you to answer, it clicks for Jason and he says, “Wait, I think I know who it is. Is it, uhm-”

“Don’t you dare say anything!” you exclaim to shut him up.

“Alright, alright. I won’t spill your secrets.”

“Well at least tell it to me later,” Travis says, to which you reply, “Absolutely not. I’m afraid you may actually try to meddle.”

“Who, me? No way,” he replies only to be met with an unimpressed look from you.

The boys drop the subject and you head back upstairs as they finally talk about football again.

You assume that they’ve moved on, and you’re happy when they don’t bring up your celebrity crush again.

You’re even happier when Jason tells you he’s taking you to the season opener Eagles vs Packers game in Philly. You’re super excited to be able to experience an Eagles game alongside your brother. You’re also glad you can be there for him in case it’s hard for him to watch them play without him for the first time since his retirement.

What you’re unaware of is the plan that Jason and Travis had made behind your back.

“So now you’re on board with trying to set up our little sister?” Jason had questioned during a phone call a couple weeks prior.

“Yes. And I have a way of making it happen,” Travis had answered.

“And you want me to help Y/N meet and potentially date a popstar who happens to be your girlfriend's ex-boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s a Packers fan?”

“Yea, that is the unfortunate part. And you’re not really helping them date. That’s all on them. But you could at least help her meet him at the game.”

“This is ridiculous,” Jason says. “But I’ll do it.”

And that’s how you find yourself walking through the tunnels of the Linc with Jason before the start of the game and bumping into Harry Styles.

“Hello, I’m Harry,” he says cheerfully, holding a hand out for you to shake.

Mustering up all of your chill, you smile in return while reaching out to clasp his hand and say, “I’m Y/N. It’s so nice to meet you, I’m a big fan.”

“Well, thank you for your support,” he says.

“You kids want a picture?” There are few times you want to kill your brother, but him butting in while you’re talking to Harry Styles is definitely one of them.

“That’s alright,” you say, trying not to impose on Harry too much. So you’re surprised when Harry says, “Of course, let’s get a photo!”

You stand next to him, and his arm wraps around your shoulder and you hope your expression doesn’t show how crazy fast your heart is beating while Jason takes the picture.

“It was so nice meeting you both, I’ll see you around!” Harry says as he walks away.

Before Jason can begin to tease you, you say, “Don’t even say a word.”

He listens to you and instead just laughs as you keep walking.

After some quick hellos to the stadium staff, you’re led up to a box.

“I thought we just had seats today?” You question.

“We did. But when I was talking to Mark he said we got upgraded.”

When you step into the box you’re once again surprised by the presence of Harry Styles.

“Okay, we are definitely in the wrong place,” you murmur to your brother.

“Oh good, you guys found us!” Harry says. You look to see who he’s talking to and get shocked to see it’s you and Jason. “There were some open spots so I asked if you two could join us,” he explains.

“Wow, thank you!” You manage to squeak out.

Suddenly you’re realizing what is about to happen. A four minute encounter in the hallway? Easy. An entire three hour football game? There’s no way you make it through without embarrassing yourself.

And yet, halftime comes and you’ve so far managed not to make a fool of yourself. In fact, you’re even impressed by your witty banter as the Eagles and Packers go back and forth taking the lead.

“So, I read about these botanical gardens nearby,” Harry says.

“Longwood?” You ask.

“Yea, have you ever been?”

“A couple times. I went with Jason, Kylie, and the kids earlier this summer. They’re really nice. If you’re thinking about going, I highly recommend.”

“I actually got a couple tickets for the fountain show tomorrow night. I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”

Quickly processing that Harry is asking you to hang out with him, possibly go on a date with him, you reply, “I’d love to!”

“Fantastic! I can pick you up in the afternoon?”

“Sounds good to me, thank you.”

You exchange phone numbers and give Harry your address, still in disbelief that all of this is actually happening.

The game resumes, and as the Eagles make their comeback you can’t help but cheer and get wrapped up in the game. And even as Harry’s team starts losing, he still stays happy and continues to joke around with you.

When the game ends and the Eagles fans celebrate, you say to Harry, “I hope this doesn’t affect us hanging out tomorrow.”

“Not a chance, in fact I think that will cheer me up,” he says with a smile.

“Hey Y/N, I’ve gotta go talk to a couple people. You hanging here or coming with me?” Of course, there’s your brother interrupting again. And while you’d rather stay with Harry, you don't really want to be separated from Jason in the post-game chaos. So you say goodbye to Harry with the promise to see him the next day.

On your way back home you put up with the teasing from your brother.

You beg him to be on his best behavior when Harry picks you up the next day.

You know he won’t.

So it’s no surprise that he gives Harry “the talk”, telling him that if he hurts you at all then he’ll have to face two NFL players.

You’re hanging in the living room with Kylie and the kids while this happens, and when the two boys come back Kylie asks,”He wasn’t too scary, was he?”

“No,” Harry replies. “Just scary enough I’d say. Shall we get going?” He addresses this last question to you and you agree, more than happy to get out of the house before Jason takes his big brother role too seriously.

When Harry drives away he lets out a deep breath and you say, “You good?”

“Yea, just- Your brother is scary.”

You start to laugh at the fact that Jason managed to actually shake up Harry Styles. But you decide to help him out by saying, “He seems scary, but it’s mostly all talk. Unless you do something to hurt me. Then you should be scared.”

“Oh I feel so much better,” he says, laughing along now.

The two of you have a wonderful time together at the gardens, especially since Harry manages to somehow fly under the radar. The fountain show is fascinating, and you stand together, Harry’s arm around your waist sending butterflies through your belly.

It’s late when you get home, and he walks you to the door like a gentleman.

When he asks if he can kiss you, of course you say yes. He leans in for a soft kiss before saying goodnight, not leaving until you’ve made it safely inside.

Jason is waiting up for you, and as you tell him about your night you watch his gruff exterior fade away. He looks truly pleased by all you have to report and you’re glad that he seems to approve of Harry.

For the next couple of months, it all goes well. Your relationship with Harry flourishes. You get to see him more than expected since he starts working out of a studio in NYC, only two hours away from where you are.

There is one mild bump in the road, occurring on a Friday evening when Jason and Kylie are supposed to be out at a party with the girls.

You’d been planning on a quiet night home alone. But then Harry had surprised you by showing up at your front door, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

One thing led to another, and before you know it you’re both on the couch. You’re straddling his lap, his hands sliding under your shirt as the two of you make out.

As much as Harry had surprised you, Jason surprises you even more by suddenly coming home and walking right into the living room.

Harry notices him first, and in an effort to save this interaction he pushes you off of him, luckily managing to shift you to the open spot next to him on the couch.

There’s a moment of oppressively awkward silence as Jason stares at the two of you, speechless. Without saying a word he walks to the mud room and grabs the diaper bag that had clearly been left behind earlier.

As he passes through the room to leave he says, “You are adults. Just- don’t be stupid. There are enough kids in this house already.”

Without waiting for a reply he leaves the house. After another moment you and Harry break into nervous laughter.

The mood is pretty much ruined but you still have a nice night watching a movie together. Harry stays with you but has to leave at lunchtime the next day.

That afternoon Jason knocks on your bedroom door, asking if he can talk for a minute.

“Sure, what’s up?” You say, not expecting the conversation that follows.

“I just wanted to ask how things are going between you and Harry,” he says.

“Oh! Good! Yea, things are going well. I really like him,” you answer.

“And you’re being safe?”

“Oh my god, Jason! We are not having this conversation,” you say as your cheeks warm at the implication.

“Well you’re living in my house, I just, you know. I feel responsible for your well being.”

“I’m safe. Very safe. You don’t have to worry.” You hope your words will convince him to drop the topic.

“And you trust him? Cause I mean, he’s a big time Popstar. Bet he’s broken a fair number of hearts before.”

You find yourself needing to defend Harry and ask, “Have you had this conversation with Travis about Taylor?”

“Fair point,” he concedes. “I just don’t want you getting hurt. You’re sure about him?”

“I am.”

“Okay then. That’s what matters. I’m only looking out for you.”

“I know. But Harry and I are happy. I promise.”

With that smoothed over, the next few weeks continue drama free.

And then comes Christmas.

Due to scheduling, Harry had yet to meet Travis. You’ve talked to your brother about him, and you know Travis has talked about all of this with Taylor. So while you’ve been told that it’s no big deal that your boyfriend and your brother’s girlfriend are exes, you’re still a bit nervous for Christmas dinner.

It’s a late meal, since you have to wait for Travis to get there after the Chiefs vs Ravens game, and you spend the afternoon entertaining your nieces and helping prepare the food.

Finally Travis and Taylor arrive, and for a moment you can’t help but feel self conscious. The room is full of NFL players and international pop stars. You excuse yourself to the kitchen for a moment to collect yourself. When you walk back to the living room, Harry greets you with the biggest smile, and those feelings of self doubt melt away. Because those big accomplishments and accolades aren’t what matter to him. What he cares about is how kind you are, how fun and loving you are. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your head and you blush knowing your whole family is watching.

But looking up at them you see nothing but support. Your mom is practically glowing seeing all her children with their significant others, and quickly organizes a family picture.

It takes some time to get all three of the little girls to cooperate, and by the time the photo is taken, dinner is ready.

There is something surreal at seeing Harry and Taylor pass the potatoes or bread basket, never having imagined this is how your life would turn out.

But that night, as you all agree to break the internet by posting the family picture, you know you wouldn’t want it any other way.

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AN: I wrote the first half of this as the Eagles lost to the Commanders, thus breaking a 10 game win streak soooo that was a bummer.

I wrote the ending after watching the Eagles beat the Cowboys, so at least that turned back around!

I think this may be the silliest thing I’ve ever written.

#harry styles x reader #travis kelce x sister!reader #jason kelce x sister!reader

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atangledfate · 1 day ago

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Miles held his Miles Electric pad in his hands flicking his fingers along the screen. He accessed the company database and started to add entries in it for Belle, and creating a company profile for her. By making her part of his R&D she'd have the freedom to move around without worry. He made sure to edit time stamps and made it look as legitimist as he could. His hope was that it would look as authentic as possible for GUN's people. None of them were on his level so he wasn't to worried they'd figure it out.

" It's a strategic move... they want to make us look like Criminals to the people at large. I suspect they see Restoration as a threat to there own power base. We are doing what they were unable to do... whats the best way to handle that? assimilate the problem and take control of it. That's there ultimate play--- make us look inept and install there own people in charge. I'd bet my tails on it... "

He handed the Miles Electric to Belle to double check his work, and add any details she wanted to add.

" Here, you can see the profile i worked up. Feel free to add anything you think is relevant. This should protect you, they won't be able to touch you without a legal battle at the very least it'll buy us time. Next we should probably look into who this president is... "

Miles sat down at one of the consoles and began to sift through the internet looking for details on this President. Surprisingly there wasn't much, he was newly appointed after the war. His first real election wasn't for a few months. His name wasn't even mentioned, was always mr. president or acting president. It all felt fishy to Miles but he kept digging, there had to be something right? just who was this pretty boy anyway?

==============================================

Lanolin felt the wind blow through her hair, and wool as she stepped up next to Surge. Staring out across the field toward the GUN check point, with a grimace on her face. This wasn't just about handing Surge over was it? She felt awful about and, had grown to like Surge despite her grumpiness and bouts of anger. There were things she felt like she needed to say to her. It was harder then she thought it would be, harder to admit how much she'd grown to enjoy having her around.

" It wouldn't matter if i did, you wouldn't budge on the issue and i don't think GUN would either. You are so stubborn, and weirdly i'll miss that... "

She admitted giving Surge a sideways glance as the wind billowed through her wool.

" You've given me no end of trouble since you arrived. Always trying to start a fight, or push everyone's buttons. But over the past few months you've become a part of this team. I really did hope things would turn out different... "

She finally let her eyes turn to look into Surges, a genuine look of sadness as the thought of what would happen to Surge dawned on her. It was upsetting, but she couldn't do anything to stop it now, and she didn't even know if Surge would appreciate how she felt about this.

" We'll be arranging for them to come and get you in about 45 minutes. If you have anything you need to do before then, you have that long to do it. You should say your goodbyes... and, prepare yourself for the exchange. "

She felt like she might cry, like she was losing a friend even if they didn't talk as much as she'd have liked.

" as for Kit, we have a good defense prepared for him. I'm confident we can keep him out of GUNs hands. You have my word on that..."

Lanolin to wished that Blaze could have caught this person. However she pondered how a fight between them would have went. If they could phase through Blaze's fire how did you even fight that? She single handed took out Amy and it didn't even look like she put up a fight. That sort of power wasn't to be underestimated, and she very much believed Blaze was as strong as they came. But the Sheep had this feeling in the pit of her stomach that it wouldn't be so simple to beat someone like that.

" Blaze you did everything you could have... not one of us was prepared for someone like that to attack us. I'm curious who she is working for... but that's a question for another day..."

Miles eyes shifted to Belle and he seemed to tense up, the issue was that once she presented herself as a free bot. There was no backtracking and they couldn't just say she was his property at that point. Once belle chose her story they had to stick to it and all the risks that came with it. If he was brutally honest with himself it was safer to leave Belle as property of Prower Inc and allow her to continue working with autonomy. But it was her life, and she would have to make that choice on her own.

" Well only problem Belle is once you tell your story. No mater what that choice is we have to abide by it. So either we go with the truth or, we lie and say you are prower industries bot. I'll be straight with you Belle... i'm worried telling the truth will make you a prime target for GUN to confiscate you... just like they did with Omega... But Kit is right either way we should sync up the video to make it appear more legitimist. But... this is your choice i'll let you decide how you want to do this... i just--- don't trust them..."

Lanolin set down her clipboard and gave The others a compassionate look. Really all of this hinged on Surge and she had to go talk to her. She left Blaze in charge as she made her way to the stairs. Once outside she took a moment to lean on the door way and nearly lost her lunch. The stress was getting to her and this all felt like it was gonna fall apart on her. She wasn't ready for it and worse? she had to ask Surge to do the unthinkable. This was the sort of thing you asked in person, and she wasn't going to do it over a radio.

the sheep grabbed a military car and drove the rest of the way across base. She pulled up to the edge of the facility where Surge was waiting for a reason to attack and to fight! A Battle that may never come to be.

" Surge? can... we talk? It's... important..."

#Unit Commander #Lanolin #All Grown Up and Ready to Fly #Tails #A Sorrowful Storm #Kitsunami #Thunderstruck #Surge #gears and starters #belle

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anon-sect · 1 day ago

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Picture source: #mine

I went shopping one day for a special pair of Fubu sneakers, but couldn't find a single pair that I really liked. I went to several different stores. Finally, there was one store that had an option. They sell specialized shoes if you can't find what you are looking for on the shelf.

Once again, there was nothing on the shelves I wanted, but the manager assured me they could get me a pair I would want at an additional charge of $30. I agreed. The store manager showed me several designs that weren't on the shelves. I picked one out on the screen that I really wanted to own.

The shoe store manager told me to hold on for a few minutes as he makes the arrangements for the new pair of shoes. Five minutes later, he comes back with the pair I picked out and my right shoe size. I was amazed since I didn't see one on the shelf. I immediately tried them on. They felt so good on my feet. The insoles in particular were really comfortable. I walked around in them for a little bit. The felt so good, that I wanted to walk out of the store wearing them, to which the store manager agreed to after I had paid for them.

As I stood to pay for my new shoes, I felt a little squirming from the insoles. It was like they were massaging my feet with all the motion I was feeling under my feet. The store manager noticed a look on my face and asked if something was wrong with the shoes. I told him about the enjoyable squirming under my feet. He sort of laughed at my comment about them.

The store manager informed me that since the shoes I wanted weren't in stock, they had to use other source material to create them. His store prided in making sure the customer walked out satisfied with the product they really wanted.

From all the squirming, I could tell human material had been used. I didn't know whether he liked being my shoes or was some attempt to escape his fate of me wearing him as my footwear. I asked what was the source material? I was informed that they had caught a thief trying to steal from them one day. They held him captive in a different form until I came in to purchase a pair of shoes they didn't have to offer. They used him as the material for my new shoes. I was also told that the change was irreversible. There was no way to make him human again. Also, that all purchase were final. The shoe thief was my property on my feet now.

I almost thought I should be sad for the poor guy, but then again, he was really comfortable shoes. His humanity was gone for good, and he was nothing but shoes now. I walked out of the store in my new shoes, and enjoying all the squirming he was doing under my feet. I smiled at his futile attempt to escape his fate. I didn't know the guy's name, but that didn't matter. Shoes don't have human names, they are just shoes for their owner to wear. That was just how I was going to treat hm as.

#inanimate transformation #foot domination #shrinkage #permanent transformation #tf story #unwilling permanent transformation #sneaker transformation #Fubu Sneaker transformation

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adioringhamzah · 1 day ago

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last part here

it's really you on my mind part 2. (hamzah's pov)

i would've never thought adding benefits to a friendship could make you in love with them

a.n : hamzah's pov, fwb y/n × hamzah, sfw, y/n's described to have "long silky hair" (doesn't impact the story at all), check pt1 for y/n's pov

i just finished filming a video with martin and mandy, more specifically, one where the three of us played the sims.

while playing, i couldn't help but think of y/n. i'd love to have her on the channel, but to everyone else, she's just one of my friends.

a girlfriend could've been on the pod, maybe an episode with mandy, too. but this would've just been a little awkward.

i brushed it off, texting her as soon as we finished filming.

before we added benefits into our friendship, i would've just asked her to watch a movie, play whatever silly video game i just discovered with martin, or just hang out.

but now, doing these things feels off, like there's an unmentioned tension in the air. watching a movie's fun, but not when you don't even know how to act anymore.

how can someone concentrate on a movie next to the prettiest woman ever? i still don't know the answer.

i can't focus on the plot when right next to me (although not close enough) is sitting the girl i manhandled just days before.

the drive to her house seems so long, listening to the radio, every song reminds me of her.

everything makes me think of her. the cutest tiktoks about couples? would love to send them, but instead, they're all in a special folder, hoping one day i'll be able to send them all.

once she opens the door, i can't help but admire her. she's dressed in the cutest pyjama set in a baby blue colour.

although it's probably the most basic outfit ever, she makes it stunning.

her long silky hair covers almost her whole back, and she has the sweetest vanilla scent.

you make the shortest small talk before sitting down on her leather couch where i kissed her so many times before.

usually, natural, this make-out session felt awkward.

y/n is just staring in my eyes, looking absolutely lost in her thoughts.

oh, i would love to know what she's thinking about.

i back up a little, breaking my almost desperate (for her love) kiss. she stays watching me, speechless, before finding some excuse.

getting back to making out with her, i barely notice her strawberry bubblegum taste or her slightly glittery gloss.

i'm mostly thinking about her. it's really her on my mind–always–no matter the situation. yes, we mutually agreed we're not ready for an actual relationship, but with her, everything changed.

our friendship was already fulfilling enough. i can't help but almost regret the added benefits. although at the same time, i would've never discovered my feelings.

being more fulfilled in a friendship with benefits than in an actual relationship like the one you had with your ex was kinda crazy but it's my reality.

even martin noticed i'm off these past few days. one month ago i was ecstatic, loving the new added perks in my friendship with y/n... until my feelings came crashing on me like waves on the shore.

i've always loved martin and mandy's relationship. both so accommodating of each other, so in love under any circumstances. but lately i almost feel a slight jealousy towards them.

i see them go to new york and on so many romantic dates, while i sit at home considering if i should send a text or not to my friend with benefits, scared of looking too desperate.

i mean i am, for y/n's love i really am.

i hope you liked <3

tell me if i should make a part 3 (maybe where they acknowledge their feelings?)

and tysm to all the ppl that commented on the last part.

it genuinely means sm and i love u all❤️‍🩹

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beauty-and-passion · 1 day ago

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And finally... the Ithaca Saga

We did it. We reached the end.

And we did it this year, in 2024! I suppose the moral of the story is: if you're truly passionate about something (and have big plans), you can do anything.

And by "anything", I don't mean just "finishing the concept album": I mean fighting against weather, bad luck and probably the gods themselves, to do what you planned.

I imagined everything, except that Mr. Jorge's plan for the final stream of his entire album, was to go to the goddamn island of Ithaca and stream there.

But, you know, it was right. It felt right. It was a very poetic choice, to bring a modern version of the Odyssey back home. To let the musical reach its artistic birthplace. And it's even more impactful that it wasn't just Odysseus' voice to (figuratively) return home: it was the entire story, through the voices of all artists involved.

However, since it's the Odyssey we're talking about, the trip to Ithaca couldn't have been simple either: what kind of boring story would it be, if everything went smoothly from start to end?

Greece's weather is overall warm, even in winter. However, there are the occasional storms/typhoons/rainfalls that last for a couple days and drown or destroy parts of the cities. And Jorge faced them not at the end of his trip, not in the middle: at the beginning, just in time to stop him from reaching Ithaca too easily.

And I believe this is all Ithaca's influence, because something similar happened to my father and brother. Last summer, they were supposed to visit Ithaca as well, but first found no available ferries, then the rain started to pour down, their car died on the nearby island, there was no available mechanic and when they finally found one, their car got fixed just in time for my brother to go to Athens and get his flight back home.

Sooo... it looks like Ithaca doesn't want visitors at all, no matter if it's summer or winter, and it does everything to keep people away - or at least, to make them have a small personal Odyssey before reaching it. Also because, according to the last shorts from Jorge, it looks like the weather changed into the usual warm, greek temperatures now. And he seems to enjoy his stay too, so I suppose the true obstacle is just reaching the island.

But enough about Ithaca, let's talk about Ithaca: there were huge expectations for this Saga. This is the final one, this is supposed to wrap up Odysseus' story and the last loose threads.

And it does. It takes its time to wrap up the last characters and it does it organically and coherently. There are no OOC moments - and this is a huge point for me, because my main complaint in the last Saga was that Odysseus moved too quickly from "let's try to discuss" to "stabbing time": here you can see and understand why he gets so angry and he even takes a few lines to further clarify his emotions.

The pace of this Saga is good too: there are no dead moments and the songs move smoothly from one event to the next. It surely helps that they cover a period of 24 hours more or less, but still.

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The Challenge: this is the first time we actually hear Penelope. Not the one from Odysseus' memories, not a siren, not a vision, but the real one.

And the real one is truly the perfect woman for a clever man like Odysseus: she's intelligent, she's resourceful, she reads the signs and does the right things to buy more time. That's what she did in the Odyssey too, so it's nice to see this trait of her character here as well.

And even though the events here happen for slightly different reasons (in the Odyssey, the bow challenge was just another attempt to buy more time, while here it's something Penelope proposes right after the storm, as if she feels things are going to change very soon and her husband is coming back), it still doesn't sound forced or unnatural. It fits Epic's narrative, without damaging or going against the spirit of the original work. That's how you do a good rewrite.

One last thing about Penelope: I love how, with one single song, we can see her pride, her strength, her cleverness... and her love too. She herself says she didn't expect to end up like this, but for love, she's ready to do anything. Even waiting 20 years for a husband she doesn't even know if he's still alive, buying him time in every possible way and keeping on hold 108 dangerous, younger men who need just an excuse to rise against her and her family.

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Hold Them Down: what did I say about that excuse?

Jokes aside, this is some powerful villain song and I ADORE it. The rhythm? Great, majestic, terrifying. The drums and the chorus are chilling.

But even more than them, it's the entire song, to be terrifying. And not because of its themes: it's because of the details.

Antinous doesn't just say "We will kill Telemachus and rape Penelope": he describes step by step what he wants to do. He presents a clear, precise plan of what he wants to do and how he wants to do it.

That's what makes it so chilling: how careful he is with the details. How he pondered about everything. His willingness to do all the things he says, without an ounce of doubt or fear.

And what's even more terrifying, is how Antinous' words are welcomed by the chorus of the other Suitors. There is no coldness, no shock, no fear: there is this palpable, growing excitement, that grows stronger the more he describes his plan. The chorus accompanies his words, anticipates them eagerly: they cannot wait to hear what he wants to do next.

And when Antinous says Penelope will be at their mercy after Telemachus' death, silence drops for a moment and the line: "And then we'll" is welcomed by pure silence. This perfectly shows how all Suitors held their breath, for one second, waiting for Antinous to say it out loud, to push his plan further and say what they were all thinking: without a man in the house, they could've had access to the queen's bedroom and body. They were waiting to hear it. They wanted, needed to hear more.

This is how you make a great villain song. This is how you build a terrifying villain: it's not just Antinous, who can stir up an entire crowd, by pushing on their primordial instincts. But it's the crowd itself, that welcomes the terrible images he proposes, because they were already in their minds. They were already thinking all of that: all they needed was someone to propose it out loud.

Of course Odysseus goes into full rampage mode after that: who wouldn't?

One last detail I appreciated a lot: the allusion about how the prince was on a diplomatic mission. Sure he was, that's how Odyssey starts: Telemachus leaves Ithaca to search for more news about his father, visits Sparta, Menelaus tells him about the Troyan horse and so on. It was a nice reference.

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Odysseus: a song better known as "Odysseus cleans his house from 20 years of filth".

I've already talked about the first lines and I appreciate them a lot, not just because they further clarify Odysseus' thoughts and actions, but also because they imply he spent some time in Ithaca before this moment, enough to see how the Suitors treated his palace. There's a huge lack of Argo, the only dog who lived something like 20+ years and died right after seeing his owner one last time, but I suppose that his dog's death would've sent him into ultraviolence mode instantly.

I lovelovelove the ensemble chanting Odysseus' name. It's solemn, it's ineluctable, it reminds me of old church hymns and I am a sucker for that stuff.

But I am also a very bad person, so when I listen to Eurymachus saying "hey, what if you spare us and welcome the world with open arms instead" and he gets slaughtered with a "no" as a reply, I laugh.

Yes, I am a bad person.

Okay, fine, we can acknowledge how this wasn't what Polites meant with open arms and how no one has been able to fully understand his mentality... but also, it works perfectly to show how Odysseus changed. In the past, he would've been tricked by these words - and it would've led to him losing more people he loves.

But after going through so much shit, he's not willing to trust others anymore. The time of open arms is gone forever. As he says, "And as long as you're around / My family's fate is left unknown".

And so, it's ruthlessness time. Because, as Poseidon told him, ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves. And Odysseus would find peace, only if he gets rid of all the dangers around.

Because come on, we know the Suitors would've found a way to still try to kill or hurt him and/or his family. They don't play fair, they said themselves. Sparing them would've only hurt Odysseus in the long run.

And if we consider the time period, killing all the opponents was all Odysseus could do, to regain control over Ithaca.

Think about it: he has been away for 20 years, leaving the island without an adult male ruler. Of course this led all other, younger men to become restless and prideful and do things they would never do, without a strong leader: like trashing the leader's palace or trying to hurt his family.

Odysseus' only way to regain control was to show everyone he was still the strongest. And the only way he could do it, was to get rid of all the people who were undermining his authority. This way, he got rid of the dangerous ones and taught everyone else a lesson: do not even try to oppose my authority again, because I am still the strongest man of this land - and therefore, the only leader.

__________________

I Can't Help but Wonder: so, right after showing everyone he was still the ruler and the stronger and so ruthless, Odysseus takes his time to softly listen to his son and tell him how much he loves him.

No, I am not crying, I got this song stuck in my eye.

But seriously: the softness, the love, the affection he holds for his son. And how this is all beautifully portrayed through Jorge's voice.

I know others already said it, but the way he modulates his voice is incredible. He really sounds older here, an old man talking to this young boy who is so confused and full of doubts about his own strength... and like the father figure Telemachus always wanted, Odysseus reassures him: he's sure his son is strong, he understands his pain and the troubles he experienced. And he loves him, with the unconditional love a father has for his child.

I said I am not crying.

The Athena part has been a surprise: honestly, I feared Jorge forgot and we would never see a closure for them, but we actually got it!

And it was a very good one: Athena asks if there is a world where empathy is stronger than fighting. A world where people can understand each other more and not always resort to violence and ruthlessness.

There's an implicit invitation in her words: would Odysseus help her pursue this world? Would he still be her warrior and work for this new, greater tomorrow?

And Odysseus refuses. He's too old, too tired. This world is too far beyond his reach. We are still trying to reach it and we are getting glimpses of it in our everyday lives.

Athena, thanks to her immortality, can live long enough to see this far-away future, but Odysseus? Maybe in the past, when he was younger, he would've loved to see it. Now he's had enough of adventures. All he wants is to finally see his wife again.

And Athena proves her growth, by that simple "very well". You can hear a smile in her tone. She's not angry at him, she's not resentful: Odysseus made his choice and she's okay with it. Their paths divide forever, not with bitterness but with understanding.

__________________

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again: better known as "I am not crying, I said I am not, I just got the Odyssey stuck in my eye".

Odysseus reveals his wife all the awful things he did, he insists he's not the same man - Tiresias told him too, he's not the same kind and gentle husband he was and he will never be anymore: he's a man marked by hardships, by the war, by the world.

By saying it, he reminds me of the war veterans, the people who faced horrors and survived, to come back as changed people. Odysseus is one of them: the war left a mark on him and the following 20 years deepened that mark, made new ones, scars and terrors that will haunt him forever.

So of course he's not the same and he will never be: life and its hardships changed him too much to come back to the naive, younger man he was.

And yet, despite everything, Odysseus is still the same man. And Penelope proves it, through the bed trial. Again, I love how it has been used here: in the Odyssey, it was Penelope's way to be sure the weird beggar-looking guy who just killed everyone truly was her husband. Here it's her way to prove to him first that yes, he still is her husband. He may be rougher, more ruthless, filled with more regrets and anger than before... but he's still him. And she doesn't care what he did: all she cares about is that he's finally back.

Does that make Penelope a bad person too? Personally, I think it makes her more human. She spent 20 years imprisoned in her own house, with 108 possible predators trashing her place, desperately trying to buy more time for a husband she didn't even know if he was still alive, all while trying to hold the predators down as long as possible, so they wouldn't hurt her or Telemachus. Can we really blame her, if she doesn't care about what her husband did to come back, as long as he's finally back?

__________________

A truly passionate project

Epic the musical is a project overflowing with love. Every artist, every voice, every song is filled with passions and emotions and they shine here, in the final Saga, more than ever. Jorge's voice has been incredible, the way he went from sounding like an old father, to a younger man again. How we shifted from love and affection, to anger.

Penelope? Amazing, brilliant, incredible. All female voices are A+ and she's no exception.

The instrumentals? Always on point, they highlight the emotions and the mood of every song perfectly.

All the artists? Incredibly fitting, superb voices. Each of them did an amazing job with their characters, each of them brought their own spin to it and made them iconic. I don't think we'll easily forget characters like Hermes, Circe, Calypso, Athena, Scylla, Tiresias or Zeus. I know I won't.

And yes, I will fondly keep this version of the Odyssey close to my chest. It's so hard to find good modern versions, now that I found one, I won't forget it so easily.

__________________

The end?

The concept album is done, but that doesn't mean Epic is over. Jorge already said he wants to make videogames and, hopefully, give the musical some live adaptation.

So it's now right to say this is the end: this is the first step of a bright future for this series. And I personally can't wait for what it will bring.

In the meantime, as always, do not forget to stream the Ithaca Saga (and the whole musical for that matter), support Jorge and show love to all the people involved: they deserve it. Every last bit of love. It would be only fair, considering how much love and commitment they poured into this project.

That's why I would like to thank them all again for their hard job. It has been a truly wonderful journey and I can't wait for what 2025 will bring them - and us.

youtube

#epic the musical #epic the ithaca saga #the ithaca saga #the challenge #hold them down #odysseus #i can't help but wonder #would you fall in love with me again #epic odysseus #epic telemachus #epic penelope #epic suitors #I LOVE this musical #jorge rivera herrans #he deserves the world #can't wait to hear more from him #this is my last post for 2024 #see ya in 2025

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best-seungkwality · 2 days ago

Text

morning conversations gone wrong (or right?)

pairing: roommate!hazel callahan x female!reader

contains/warnings: college!au drabble (is this considered a drabble), fluff, kinda ooc hazel?, not proofread bc again, my mantra is live fast die young bad girls do it well

word count: 1k

author's yap notes: this has been sitting in the drafts for the longest time ugh i hope it's cute bc i thought it was cute bye i love this prompt for hazel and supposedly ruby's tslocg character ash. also, happy new year <33

would like to give credits for the dividers: © saradika, magnusthemes here in tumblr!

The air outside the sorority house where the party of the month was held was cool, carrying a hint of morning dew that left one's skin tingling. It was 6 am already, and all the partygoers were either sprawled out somewhere in the house or stumbling over to a nearby store or home.

You were, amusingly, the latter.

Hazel walked a little ahead of you, hands stuffed in her jacket's pockets, posture quite stiff. She was always like this whenever she was nervous about something, and right now, you knew why.

"You didn't have to fetch me and walk me back, Haze," you slurred, leaning on the lamppost for a short break when you started getting dizzy. She raised an eyebrow at you, smiling at the irony of what you just said.

She waited for a while for you until the two of you could start walking back to your shared dorm again. She glanced back for a moment, slowing down so that you could keep up. "Could've fooled me when you almost fell into the punch bowl when I arrived."

You held up a finger, "Okay, that wasn't my fault. It got in the way when I was dancing!"

Hazel snorted, probably unable to hide it at how ridiculous you sounded, but didn't say anything else. You could feel the small smile playing on her face that she hid from you. It made your chest feel tighter than any alcohol could ever affect you.

You two continued to walk in silence for another block, the familiar tension increasing between you until the time came for it to snap. She kept avoiding your very obvious stare, looking anywhere as long as it wasn't you. That was when you stopped, running to the middle of the road, declaring, "Okay, that's it."

Your roommate froze, spinning around, and you saw confusion flashed across her face. "What are you doing? Come back here!"

"Nope!" you huffed and crossed your arms, planting your feet firmly on the ground. "Not until you tell me!" The alcohol was really making you too bold and playful for your own good.

Hazel started to go closer to you, nervousness obviously replacing every emotion in her features. "Tell you what? C'mon, y/n, get back here!" The pink blush creeping up face betrayed her, and you knew she knew what you were talking about. Even the pitch of her voice had gone slightly higher.

"That you like me!" you said matter-of-factly. "I'm not moving until you stop beating around the bush and confess!"

She blinked a couple of times like you had just transformed into an alien. You only gave her a silly smile when she asked, "Are you serious?"

"I'm not moving, am I?"

The street was empty that Saturday morning, and you could tell Hazel was thankful for that at least. The streetlights had already closed, giving way to the warm, natural sunlight enveloping the surroundings.

She then took a hesitant step toward you, brows furrowing, but you held your ground. She shakily reminded you, "You're drunk." She wanted to be firm with you, but there was a slight waver in her tone that she couldn't hide from you at that moment.

You cock an eyebrow in response. "I'm drunk but not stupid— and I'm still certainly aware!" You pouted at her small, skeptical frown. "Okay, maybe a little less aware than normal— but I know when someone's into me! The way you act around me says it all. You're not exactly that subtle."

Hazel finally let out a hand and ran it through her hair, another nervous tic you had memorized by now. She walked towards you and reached out, trying to coax you to go back to the sidewalk. "C'mon, n/n, let's go. I don't want you to get hurt."

You didn't budge once again. "Not until you admit it~"

She groaned out load, putting her face in her hands. "Why does it even matter?" she called out, a bit frustrated based on the redness of her face that cold morning. "You're drunk; you won't remember this when you wake up."

"I like you, Hazel," you suddenly told her, catching her off-guard.

You two stayed silent again for some time, unmoving, even when a motorcycle had passed by, beeping at you. Her shoulders visibly slumped, and for a second, you thought she was going to deny once again, skirting around the truth like she always did. But then, she looked at you, as if staring past your eyes and straight into your soul. Her expression was soft and vulnerable, in a way she had never let you see before.

"Fine," she whispers, closing the distance between the two of you, "I like you, okay? I've liked you since the day we met at the dorms. You're so nice and random, and you accepted me and introduced me to a new world. I like it when you steal my hoodies, but you know I would punch someone else who would do that. Ever since our moving in day, you've been the best part of every day in my life, which scares me so much because I don't wanna mess up what we have. You're also one of my best friends now..."

Your heart skipped a beat, not expecting that kind of confession. It was cold outside, but the heat from the adrenaline and your adoration for Hazel made that disappear that completely.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" you teased, but voice softer to assure her that it was out of affection.

Hazel rolled her eyes, but you knew there was no sarcasm behind it when you saw her familiar giddy smile. "You're so insufferable, y/n."

"Yet you like me~" you sang, holding out your hand this time for her.

She smiled, taking it and lacing your fingers together, "Are you done being dramatic now? Can we go?"

"I'm good now," you told her, planting a soft peck on her cheek.

Hazel shook her head, a bigger smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible. Thank goodness I like you."

#ruby cruz #wlw #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #bottoms 2023

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nxzz-skz · 2 days ago

Text

Bound by contract (a bangchan x reader series)

Chapter 13

ᯓ★arranged marriage between nonidol!bangchan and fem!reader

ᯓ★ warnings: fluff, angst, kinda sad (sorry luvs)

ᯓ★ note: send an ask or comment to be added to my taglist! (please specify which one :D )

chapter 12 - masterlist - chapter 14

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

The morning light shined softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the bed where you and Chan lay tangled together.

You hadn't expected to feel like this. For the first time in a while, you felt a sense of peace, a sense that maybe - just maybe - things were finally going right.

It wasn't just the kiss from that night before. It wasn't just how his touch made your heart race or the way he held you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. I was so much more than that.

It was the comfort of it. The familiarity.

The trust that was slowly being built between you.

Chan's warm breath against your skin stirred something deeper, something you couldn't get rid of even if you tried. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, his warmth pressing into you in a way that made everything feel like it was falling into the right place.

"Stay," you whispered, your voice barely even a breath.

His hand slid over your waist, pulling you closer. He didn't respond straight away, but you felt the gentle kiss he pressed on the back of your neck. The way his lips lingered for a moment too long, as though he never wanted to let go.

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmured against your skin, his voice a low promise.

It felt like a lifeline, something to hold on to.

But just as quickly as the peace came, something shifted.

The phone rang.

You could feel Chan tense up behind you, his hand pausing on your waist as the ringing echoed the through the room. You knew what it was before he turned over to reach for it.

It was the call he had been dreading.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

Chan answered the phone quickly, the tension in his voice immediately making the air between you heavier. His back straightened, his posture becoming rigid. His fingers gripped the phone tightly.

“I’ll be there,” he said curtly, his voice sharp as he glanced down at you, his gaze filled with something unreadable.

He hung up, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

You could sense it — the weight that had returned with that single phone call. The calm before the storm was over, and the storm had arrived.

“You have to go?” you asked quietly, trying to keep your voice steady.

Chan didn’t immediately respond. His gaze dropped to his hands, his lips pressed together as if he were struggling to say what was on his mind.

“Y/N…” He exhaled slowly. “I have to handle something. It’s… It’s business.”

You could hear the way he was trying to distance himself from the weight of the situation. The words felt hollow in your chest.

“Business,” you echoed, bitterness threading through your voice. “I should have known.”

He frowned, sitting up in bed. “It’s not like that. You know that.”

Do I?

His eyes softened, but there was an unmistakable edge to them. The look he gave you wasn’t just one of affection — it was one of guilt. Something dark flickered in the depths of his gaze.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said quietly, voice breaking just a little.

You could feel the words form in your chest, but you kept them locked away. The last thing you wanted to do was cause another fight, especially when he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

But the truth was, you were scared.

What if he leaves again? What if I’m not enough to keep him here?

“I’ll be here,” you said, your voice steady but betraying a hint of vulnerability.

He met your eyes, his gaze soft but heavy with unspoken promises. He didn’t say anything, but the way his eyes lingered on you made your chest tighten.

For a moment, you thought he might kiss you again. But then he stood up, walked to the door, and paused.

“Don’t wait up,” he said, his voice rough.

And then, just like that, he was gone.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

ᯓ★ Reblogs and follows appreciated!

ᯓ★ taglist: @bluesoobinnie @lynastrawberry @nappynapnaps

ᯓ★ perm taglist: @cafffeineconnoisseur @skzbiasot8 @candyquokka @idiotmaterial @backseat-serenade-dizzyhurricane @hanji-coffee @jeonginsbaee

#stray kids #skz #lee know #bang chan

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cruyuu · 2 days ago

Note

What really gets me about the Sukuita dance is Sukuna's face, I know most of the fandom is using that to say "Sukuna hates it, Yuuji is forcing Sukuna to dance" but, even if we ignore that Sukuna could just... let go of Yuuji (he's so addicted to that waist man), I don't see the anger or hate everyone is saying he feels. To me, Sukuna looks distressed, surprised, and almost vulnerable. Especially his eyes. Idk I think he's emotionally conflicted about his feelings for Yuuji and that's what his expression is conveying 👀

Hi anon!

Ah... the dance and the vehement rejection of "Yuuji and Sukuna do care for each other". Idk why some people are so against them being happy tbh but then again I never understood this fandom.

It's a given that Sukuna can let go of Yuuji, anon. Hell, he doesn't have to do shit. If he's unsatisfied and he despises Yuuji, he would not be shown dancing with him. For that matter, why are we arguing about character's choices when Gege wrote these two and released this art? The right question is why in the hell's name, if this if that, did Gege think that drawing them dancing would be the right thing to do?

Unless...

If you know, you know lol.

Honestly, the takes to justify this art (that it totally means nothing) I've had seen just make me laugh. Some had also stated that Yuuji doesn't technically really care for Sukuna but that he's just too compassionate for his own good and therefore tolerates him which... hmm. Yuuji is compassionate, sure, but if he's as compassionate as these ppl claim he is then why didn't he also try to understand and accept Mahito too? Sukuna and Mahito were the same in Yuuji's eyes and both deserved death and yet look at here we are. Why when both live to cause ruin and also caused great suffering to Yuuji? It doesn't add up and never will. The dedication that Yuuji showed to Sukuna in the end was... rather something. He unleashed his Domain to try to change his mind and get him to come back and live with him. Like... how crazy is that? When he saw that couldn't work, he vowed to be there for him in the next life even if nobody accepted him. Like... what more do I have to say????

But, back to the art, yes! Sukuna does look he's five seconds from sprinting away in embarrassment or fear (if only he wasn't holding Yuuji's waist lol). He does appear like he's scared/uncomfortable rather than angry. Some of my friends had even pointed out that he appears similar to when he and Yuuji talked in 265 and how he was highly on guard there and just how much he tried to flee from saying anything that involves feelings. Maybe he's just uncomfortable with being open? Being caring? I wouldn't be surprised considering we know him as someone who never gave a fuck and now that he does... he doesn't really know how to process that.

#melanswers #sukuita

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babyflorencee · 3 days ago

Text

Stockholm Syndrome

Part eleven: Torn Between Us

Links: MASTERLIST

Harry Styles x fem!Reader

I woke up to the scent of Harry's cologne, his warm arms wrapped around me, and his soft breath against my neck. It felt like a dream, like the world outside didn't matter. I never thought I'd feel safe here, but in his arms, in this moment, I felt like maybe everything was going to be okay.

"Morning, baby," Harry whispered, his voice low and soothing. "You sleep well?"

I nodded, my heart fluttering, as a small smile tugged at my lips. "Yeah. I didn't even realize I fell asleep."

"I like you here, with me." he murmured, brushing his lips against my temple.

"I like being here." I whispered, as his fingers traced the delicate curve of my back, as though he was trying to memorize every inch of me. I loved these little moments with Harry—feeling wanted, needed, loved—and it was all because of him.

I felt him pull me closer, burying his face into my neck. "So, my friends are coming over today. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling a little. "I'd love to meet them."

The words felt strange coming out of my mouth, I didn't want to meet them, I didn't want to have to share Harry, but I wanted to be good, I wanted to make him happy. I wanted to fit into whatever world Harry had created for us, even if I had no idea what that really meant.

Harry seemed pleased, his eyes lit up as his lips curled into a small smile, before placing a kiss on my forehead. "I think you'll like them."

I tried to smile back, but there was a lingering unease in my chest. Meeting his friends? It felt like a step I wasn't quite ready to take. But I couldn't back out now, not with Harry looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered.

I felt Harry's lips brush softly against my cheek, then the corner of my mouth, leaving a trail of warmth that made my heart flutter. His hand cradled my face as he kissed the tip of my nose, his eyes crinkling with a tender smile.

"We should get ready," he murmured, as he placed one more lingering kiss on my forehead before pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. "They'll be here soon."

I nodded, my chest tightening at the thought of sharing him with anyone else, but the way he looked at me in that moment made it feel like nothing could break the little world we'd created together.

***

They showed up not long after—a group of guys who seemed like they'd wandered out of a bad dream. Loud, obnoxious, crude, with confidence oozing from them like the smoke of a fire you couldn't quite put out. They strolled into the room as if they owned it, their laughter bouncing off the walls before they fully stepped inside.

The moment they saw me, their grins widened, transforming into exaggerated smirks that sent an uneasy chill down my spine. It wasn't admiration; it was something sharper, something that made my skin prickle.

"So, you're the one," one of them said, his tone dripping with mock amusement. "Harry's girl."

I froze, my smile faltering before I forced it back into place, tight and unsure. "Yeah, that's me," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"Harry's girl," another repeated, drawing the words out with a whistle as he elbowed his friend. "Wow, what a pretty little thing. Who would've thought? You sure you got the right Harry?"

The group erupted into laughter, a jarring mix of mockery and disbelief. I chuckled nervously, my laugh feeling too forced, but it was all I could muster.

"Come on, mate," the tallest one said, smirking as he turned to Harry. "How'd you manage this? Did you bribe her or something?"

"I didn't—" Harry started, his voice low and strained, but he didn't get far.

"Wait, wait," another cut him off, holding up a hand. "Let me guess. You tripped over your own feet, landed on her, and she felt so bad she decided to stick around."

Their laughter hit a new peak, jagged and unkind. My stomach churned, my gaze darting to Harry, silently pleading for him to say something, to put an end to this. But he just stood there, his jaw clenched tight, his fists flexing at his sides.

"Don't be mean," one of the guys' girlfriends chimed in, though her smirk didn't quite match her words. "Harry has his charm. Deep, deep down."

"Yeah, buried under that permanent scowl," Another quipped, earning another round of laughter.

"Seriously though," the tall one pressed, his gaze shifting back to me, sharp and invasive. "What's the deal? Is he secretly loaded or something? No offense, Harry, but you're punching way above your weight here."

I forced another laugh, hollow and thin. "I don't know," I said, though the words felt like ash in my mouth.

"Harry, you'd better hang onto this one," another guy said, grinning wickedly. "She's a ten. You're, what? A five on a really good day?"

Another half-hearted laugh escaped me, though it sounded more like a sigh. I didn't want to cause a scene, didn't want to make things worse, so I just smiled along, pretending I couldn't feel the sting of their words or the suffocating weight of Harry's silence.

The words stung like salt rubbed into an open wound. My nervous smile remained glued to my face as I glanced at Harry again. His expression hadn't softened. If anything, it had hardened—his eyes dark and unreadable, his body radiating tension.

"Don't mind us, sweetheart," one of them added, leaning back lazily. "We're just trying to figure out how a guy like Harry landed someone like you. It's a mystery, honestly."

"Maybe she's got a thing for brooding loners," another joked, prompting exaggerated nods and laughter.

"Or maybe," the tall one said, leaning in with a smirk that made my stomach turn, "you just haven't realized you can do better yet."

I glanced at Harry, hoping for something—anything—but his face was a mask, his jaw set, his fists still clenched. I took a small step toward him, instinctively seeking comfort, leaning slightly into his side.

But he didn't move. Didn't even acknowledge me.

And in that moment, I realized the shift between us. It wasn't just the mockery in their words or the discomfort in the air. It was something darker, something unspoken—a warning that settled heavy in my chest.

***

When they finally left, the silence was deafening.

I watched Harry, waiting for him to say something—anything. But his eyes were cold, fixed on the door where his friends had just exited. His jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides. I could see the anger building inside him. "Why were you laughing with them so much?" he shouted, his voice like ice. "Do you want them? Do you want them more than you want me?"

His words hit me like a slap, and I jumped back, confused and scared. "What? No, Harry, I'm just—"

"Just what? Just enjoying their fucking compliments?" He snapped, "They think you're some kind of trophy, Y/N. Something they can admire and pass around. I can fucking see how much you think they're better than me! How you want them, want to leave me for them! But you're mine, Y/n. Mine, and you're not supposed to be smiling like that at anyone else but me!"

I stepped back, panic rising in my chest as I realized how mad he truly was. "No, Harry, I don't want anyone else! I swear! I wasn't—I wasn't doing anything wrong, Harry. They were just being nice."

"Nice?" His laugh was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. "Nice. Do you even know what nice is, Y/n? Do you know how they look at you, how they want you? You're mine, not there's. I'll make sure you understand that."

I didn't have time to respond. He was already in motion, his fists clenched, his whole body tense. I could see the anger building in him, something wild, something feral that I couldn't control.

"You're not allowed to talk to them like that. You're not allowed to look at them." Harry seethed, his breath ragged now. "Do you understand me?"

"I'm sorry Harry, I—"

"You think you're better than me now? Huh?" His voice grew louder, more frantic, as he started pacing. "You think you can just forget about me, forget who you belong to?"

I tried to speak, to explain, but the words caught in my throat. I didn't know what to say to make it better, to make him stop. His face was contorted in rage, and his hands were shaking as he punched the wall. The sound of cracking drywall echoed in my ears.

"You're mine!" he yelled, his voice shaking with anger and hurt. "You're not allowed to go anywhere, not allowed to talk to anyone else! You're mine, and I won't share you with anyone else!"

I tried to step closer to him, my hand reaching out for him, but he recoiled as if I were a threat. "Harry, please, I—"

His eyes darkened, and before I could finish, he turned on me, his hand snapping out and grabbing my wrist so hard I gasped in pain. "I will break you, Y/n. I'll make you understand how wrong you are for looking at them like that, for fucking flirting with them. I don't fucking care if you didn't mean it. You're mine."

"Please, Harry," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I don't want anyone else. I only want you. Please, calm down."

But Harry was beyond reason. "You don't get to leave me. Not now. Not ever." His voice was a growl as he tightened his hold on my wrist.

I tried to pull my wrist out of his hand, but his hold was like a vice. "No, Harry! Please! Please don't do this!"

His eyes were wild, his body trembling with fury. "No," he hissed. "If you don't want me anymore, if you want to leave so fucking badly, then you can go back to the basement until you understand that you're not going anywhere."

Before I could react, he was pulling me roughly toward the basement door. "You'll learn your place," he spat, his voice cold and hard.

I tried to pull away, my heart slamming against my ribs. "Harry, please, it's not like that," I gasped, but he didn't listen. His grip only tightened, his fingers digging into my skin like he was trying to burn his mark into me. My chest was tight with fear, as I stumbled behind him, tears streaming down my face as I begged, "I'm sorry, Harry. Please, I didn't mean anything by it. Please believe me."

"Shut up! I know you liked how they look at you! Laughed at their fucking jokes like you wanted them." His voice was low, dripping with venom.

"No, Harry, that's not what—"

"Don't lie to me! I saw you," he spat, his breath hot on my face. "I saw how you smiled at them. How you laughed. You want them, not me. You think I can't fucking see that?"

"Harry, please—" I tried to break free, twisting in his grip, but he was too strong. Panic surged through me as I started to struggle, my heart racing with fear.

I couldn't think straight. I couldn't breathe.

With a sudden jerk, I broke free from his hold, stumbling backward. Without thinking, I turned and ran.

I ran through the house, my feet pounding against the hardwood floor, but Harry was right behind me. His footsteps echoed, heavier and faster than mine.

"Y/n, stop!" His voice was raw, desperate, but I couldn't stop. I had to get away. I didn't know where to go, but I had to get away from him.

I reached the stairs, but before I could even take another step, Harry grabbed me, pulling me back with a force that knocked the air out of my lungs.

"No!" I screamed, my chest tight with fear. "Let me go, Harry! Please! I'm sorry!"

But Harry didn't let go. He picked me up effortlessly, like I weighed nothing, and carried me down the stairs. My heart hammered in my chest, my body thrashing in his arms, but he held me tight, not even acknowledging my screams.

When we reached the basement, he didn't say a word. His jaw was clenched, his eyes wild with something I couldn't quite place. He dropped me on the bed with a brutal shove, and I stumbled to the side, trying to scramble off.

But he was too quick.

"You think you can run from me, huh?" he snarled, his hands shaking as he pulled on the chains. "You think you can just leave me?"

I could barely breathe, barely speak as I tried to get away, but Harry was already on top of me, pinning my wrists to the bed as he fastened the chains around them.

"I've been patient," he hissed, tears of rage welling up in his eyes. "But I'm done. You're not leaving me. Do you hear me? You're mine, Y/n. And if you ever forget that again, you'll never see the light of day again."

"Harry, please," I sobbed, my voice breaking as I twisted in his grip, trying to pull away. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I love you! I don't want anyone else. Please, don't—please don't do this!"

But he didn't listen. His hands were rough as he secured the chains, his grip tightening as he leaned over me, his face inches from mine, eyes burning with rage.

"I gave you everything," he screamed, his voice rising, shaking. "And you repay me by wanting them? By wanting to leave me? After you promised me you wouldn't. Well you aren't allowed to leave me. You don't get to keep on hurting me like this. Not anymore."

I was shaking, crying uncontrollably, desperate for him to calm down. "I'm sorry, Harry. Please, I swear. I only want you. Please, don't—don't lock me in here. I'll never leave you, I promise!"

But his eyes were cold, unyielding. The last thing I saw before the darkness of the basement overtook me was his face, twisted in anger and sadness, as he backed away, leaving me chained to the bed, helpless.

I didn't know how to fix this, how to fix him. All I knew was that I was trapped, and no matter how much I apologized, it would never be enough.

***

The darkness in the basement felt heavier with each passing second, it felt as if it had seeped into my bones, suffocating me from the inside out. My wrists ached where the chains bit into them, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the weight crushing my chest.

I couldn't stop crying. The tears came in waves, uncontrollable sobs wracking my body as I curled into myself on the cold, hard bed. My throat was raw from screaming, but no sound could compare to the echo of Harry's voice in my mind, the venom in his words, the rage in his eyes.

I hated myself.

How could I have been so stupid?

The memory of Harry's friends lingered, their smirking faces and careless compliments looping in my mind like some sick joke. "She's a ten. You're, what? A five on a really good day?" Their words were sharp, mocking. And I just laughed.

I choked on another sob, closing my eyes. It didn't matter that I hadn't meant it, that I was just trying to be polite. It didn't matter that my laugh had been forced, shaky, and hollow. Because Harry didn't see it that way. All he saw was me laughing at him, agreeing with them.

A part of me had flinched when they said it, a part of me had silently nodded along, even if I didn't want to admit it. I hadn't stood up for him. I hadn't defended him. Instead, I sat there, smiling like a fool while his friends belittled him right in front of me.

"Oh my God," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I hurt him. I hurt him so much."

Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks as I tugged uselessly at the chains, as if freeing myself would somehow fix the mess I'd made. But the cold metal held firm, a constant reminder of how far I'd fallen, of how much I'd broken his trust.

Harry had every right to be angry.

I could still see his face, twisted with anger, his voice trembling as he screamed at me. You're mine. The words sent a shiver through me. Not because I was afraid, but because I had betrayed him. I had made him feel like he wasn't enough, like I didn't want him. But I did. I wanted him more than anything.

My heart ached, splitting open with every passing second. I had caused this. I had pushed him to this point.

I sat up as best as I could, my chains clinking softly in the quiet room. The sound was almost soothing, a rhythm to focus on as I tried to steady my breathing. I couldn't fall apart. Not now. I had to make this right.

He needed to know that I wasn't going anywhere.

I wiped at my tears against my arms, my vision blurry but my thoughts sharp. Harry had saved me, protected me, given me everything. He had taken care of me when no one else did. And what had I done? I had laughed when his friends insulted him. I had smiled when they said I was too good for him.

I bit down on my lip, trying to keep the sobs from spilling out again. If Harry could see me now, he'd hate me even more. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't lose him. Not because of this.

The minutes dragged on, each one stretching into eternity as I waited. The house above me was silent now, the earlier noise replaced with an eerie quietness. I wondered where he was, what he was doing. Was he still angry? Was he okay?

I hoped he would come back soon.

I needed to see him, to tell him how sorry I was, how much I loved him. I needed to explain that I hadn't meant to hurt him, that I hadn't realized what I was doing. If he would just come down, if he would just look at me, I could fix this.

I could make him understand that he was the only one I wanted.

The chains clinked again as I shifted, staring at the locked door with wide, pleading eyes. "Harry," I yelled, my voice breaking. "Please. Please come back."

I didn't care about the chains or the darkness or the cold. None of it mattered. All I wanted was him.

My heart ached with the weight of it, with the desperation that had taken hold of me. I needed Harry to forgive me. I needed him to love me again.

And I would do anything to make that happen.

***

Two days felt like a lifetime.

I had gotten use to the cold of the basement, but it was the silence that seemed to gnaw at my sanity. Time blurred into nothingness, and the only sound was the faint drip of water somewhere in the distance and the occasional clink of the chains when I shifted.

I had cried until there were no tears left, until my throat was raw and my chest ached. I screamed apologies to the empty room, my voice trembling as I repeated them over and over like a prayer. Please forgive me, Harry. Please come back. I need you.

Every creak of the floorboards above sent a jolt of hope through me, but it was always followed by crushing disappointment when the door would remain closed. I imagined him walking down the stairs, imagined his arms around me, imagined his voice telling me it was okay.

But he never came.

And just as I lost hope that he would, I heard the lock on the basement door click, the sound reverberating through the silence like a gunshot. My head snapped up, my heart pounding in my chest as the door slowly creaked open. And there he was.

Harry.

Tears sprang to my eyes instantly, and a sob escaped my lips. "Harry!" I cried, my voice cracking as I scrambled to sit up. My chains rattled, the cold metal biting into my wrists as I reached out for him, desperate to close the distance between us.

He stepped inside, his expression unreadable. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark and filled with something I couldn't quite place—anger, sadness, exhaustion. My heart twisted at the sight of him. I had done this to him. I had hurt him so much that he couldn't even look at me the same way.

"I'm so sorry," I choked out, the words tumbling over themselves in my desperation. "Harry, please... I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear, I didn't mean it. I only want you. I only love you. Please, please forgive me."

He knelt in front of me, his hands moving to the chains around my wrists. His silence was deafening, and I couldn't stop the tears that streamed down my face as I watched him. My wrists throbbed as the chains loosened, the cold metal slipping away to reveal raw, red skin.

The moment my hands were free, I launched myself at him.

"Harry!" I sobbed, throwing my arms around his neck and clinging to him like my life depended on it. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, my face pressed against his shoulder as I cried. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I was stupid, and I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean it, I swear. I'll never hurt you again. Please don't hate me. Please believe me."

He didn't hug me back.

The realization sent a fresh wave of panic through me, and I tightened my grip, holding onto him like he might disappear if I let go. "I'll do anything," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Anything you want. Just... please don't leave me down here again. I can't—I can't do this without you."

His arms finally came around me, but the warmth I usually felt in his embrace was missing. His hands rested on my back, heavy and unyielding, and his breath was slow and measured against my hair.

"You hurt me, Y/n," he said finally, his voice low and rough.

The words cut through me like a knife, and I shook my head vehemently. "I know. I know I did, and I hate myself for it. I hate myself so much. I'll never let it happen again. I promise. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. Please, Harry. Please forgive me."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto mine with a sharp intensity. "What exactly are you sorry for?" he asked, his voice quiet but firm.

I froze, the weight of the question sinking into me like a stone. "I-I'm sorry for—" I stammered, tears blurring my vision. "I'm sorry for making you think I didn't love you. I'm sorry for laughing when they said those awful things about you. I wasn't agreeing with them, Harry, I swear. I'm the lucky one. I'm so lucky to have you. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve anything after how I made you feel."

His expression didn't change, his eyes still dark and unreadable. "You're right," he said, his voice like a blade. "You don't deserve me. Not after what you did."

I flinched, the words cutting deeper than I thought possible. "I know," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "But I'll spend every day proving that I do. I'll make it up to you. I swear, Harry. I'll do whatever it takes. Please just give me another chance."

He studied me for a long moment, his silence stretching on until I thought I might break under the weight of it. Then, finally, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.

"You belong to me," he said, his voice a mix of anger and possession. "Do you understand that? No one else. Me. Only me."

I nodded frantically, my hands gripping his shoulders as if to anchor myself. "Only you. I swear, Harry. Only you. I'll never look at anyone else. I'll never let anyone else say those things to me. I only want you, Harry. Please believe me."

His arms tightened around me then, pulling me against him with a force that took my breath away. The tension in his body was still palpable, but for the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope.

He hadn't left me.

And I would never give him a reason to again.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #dark!harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #one direction #michael stockhausen

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alicewrotethis · 2 days ago

Text

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭﹒𝐩𝐭 𝟑

ㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒synopsis!! bokuto tries to make sense of his feelings, little does he know you are as well . ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚౨ cw!! timeskip! b. kotaro x astronomy tutor! reader, angst i think, atsumu and yachi feature, atsumu being horrible with advice ﹒ ◠ note!! looking forward to the next chapters!!!! ౨ wc!! 3.1k, wanted it to be longer but im splitting it.. ˚ ۪˖𓏲 mood!! series playlist

one / two / three

bokuto-san: Hey, not feeling great, so I'm gonna skip today, dont worry about me though! Pretty sure I got it for the test tmr, thanks for everything, btw. You're awesome!

You read it twice, then a third time, searching for something unsaid in the cheerful punctuation and easy words. A part of you wanted to believe him, he was the type to bounce back from anything, wasn't he? But there was a hollowness between the lines that you couldn't ignore.

You sighed, setting your phone down, but the weight in your chest stayed. It had lingered ever since you turned him down the night before, a gnawing guilt that you couldn't quite shake.

Why did it bother you so much? It was just a game, wasn't it? A volleyball match. You had better things to be doing. You didn't owe him anything beyond tutoring sessions, and those were transactional at best, right?

But the look on his face when you said no kept replaying in your mind. The slump of his shoulders, the way his grin faltered for just a second too long before he forced it back on. You'd hurt him, and you hated that. The logical part of you stood by your decision. You had a project due, and responsibilities to juggle.

You told yourself it was fine. He'd been improving steadily, and he probably did have a good grasp on the material by now. But his absence left the dorm unnervingly quiet.

Meanwhile, Bokuto rolled onto his side, his phone still clutched in his hand. The text stared back at him, the gray 'read' under his text practically mocking him. His jaw tightened as he thought about how easily you had dismissed the invitation, how easily you'd prioritized something else over him. He hated the feeling, he wanted to be as important to you as your project.

He wasn't actually sick. Not in the way you'd think. But after last night, the idea of sitting in your dorm and pretending everything was fine felt unbearable.

The rejection hadn't been harsh. You'd been kind and even offered to go next time, but it still stung in a way he hadn't expected. He wasn't used to feeling small. On the court, in life, he was the guy who lit up a room, who powered through anything with a grin and sheer determination. But hearing you say you couldn't make it to his game, that you had better things to do, though you didn't word it that way, it wasn't just a missed game, it was the hollow aching feeling of being pushed to the side.

He tossed his phone onto the bed with a soft thud, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, it hurt. It hurt more than it should have, and that gnawing emptiness didn't ease the longer he thought about it.

Bokuto sighed, staring up at the ceiling. His room felt unusually quiet, with no hum of excitement, no anticipation for Friday's game like there should have been. He hated how much this was getting to him. It wasn't like you'd done anything wrong.

What frustrated him most was that he wasn't sure why it bothered him so much, other than the obvious. He was used to people letting him down in little ways, laughing off his energy, brushing aside his invitations, saying 'maybe next time' when they really meant 'never'. But this was different. He thought you were different.

He groaned, running a hand through his hair and letting his palms rest on his cheeks, his mind replaying the way your voice had softened during your study sessions, the way your eyes lit up just slightly when he actually understood something. He thought maybe you cared, not just about the tutoring, but about him.

Bokuto's hands flew into the air dramatically and landed on the comforter with a muffled thud. His palm reached for his phone as he stared at the ceiling. The ache in his chest refused to leave, and for once, his usual methods of distracting himself, counting the specks on his ceiling, wasn't working.

With another groan he opened his contacts, his eyes landing on a name he often went to with problems, Atsumu. It wasn't because Atsumu was particularly wise (he definitely wasn't), but because Atsumu always had something to say. Usually something ridiculous enough to make Boktuo forget what he was upset about in the first place.

"Alright, Tsumu," he muttered to himself as he hit the call button, "Time to be a bro again,"

The line rang twice before Atsumu picked up with a dramatic sigh.

"Bokkun, let me guess. You've run out of hair gel, or you need me to tell ya yer the best wing spike in the world again?"

Bokuto frowned, clutching the phone tighter, "No! And that was one time!" he paused, his voice dropping slightly, "This is serious, Tsumu,"

There was a beat of silence before Atsumu said, "Alright, I'm listenin'. Hit me,"

Bokuto took a deep breath, "Okay, so... I invited my tutor, you know, the one who's been helping me to not fail, to our game, the big one, rival team, packed gym, all that stuff. I thought they'd say yes, but they said no."

Atsumu let out a low whistle, "Oof. Brutal. Did they at least give ya a reason?"

"Yeah," Bokuto muttered, "They said they had a project or something, and it's fine I get it, but... I dunno. It still sucks, you know? I thought maybe-" he cut himself off, groaning, "Never mind,"

"You thought maybe they cared as much as you do," Atsumu finished for him.

Bokuto blinked, "...Yeah,"

"Well," Atsumu began, his tone suddenly businesslike, "There's only one solution to this."

Bokuto sat up, "What is it? Should I send them flowers? Or, like, write an apology note? Or-"

"Go on a run,"

Bokuto froze, "...What?"

"A run," Atsumu repeated as if it were the most obvious solution in the world, "You're spiralin', Bokkun. Overthinkin' stuff isn't your style. Youre a doer, not a thinker. Lace up yer sneakers and run till ya can't think straight anymore. Works every time."

Bokuto frowned, his brow furrowing, "That's your advice? Go for a jog? I'm pouring my heart out here Tsumu!"

"And I'm savin' ya from yourself," Atsumu shot back, "Look, you don't have time to be mopin' over some person. We've got a big game tomorrow, yer energy's gotta be one hundred percent, or are ya plannin' to let me carry the team?"

Boktuo bristled at that, his competitive streak instantly flaring up. "Hey! I'm not gonna let you carry anything. I'm fired up for the game!"

"Then prove it," Atsumu said smugly, "Get your head back in the game, Bokkun. A run'll clear yer brain, shake out all that weird energy, and remind ya what actually matters. And what matters is crushin' our opponents, not daydreamin' about someone who isn't even showin' up."

Boktuo opened his mouth to argue but found himself deflating slightly. Atsumu wasn't entirely wrong. The game was huge, and his team was counting on him. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

"Fine," Bokuto muttered, dragging himself off his bed, "But if this doesn't work, I'm calling you back,"

Atsumu snorted, "You always call. Now go run like yer chasin' a win, Bokkun. And try not to overthink while yer at it."

Bokuto grumbled as he made his way to his closet, "Why do I even call you anymore?"

"'Cause I'm a genius," Atsumu replied smoothly, "Good luck, and don't trip!"

With an annoyed groan, Bokuto hung up and tossed his phone onto the bed with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as Atsumu's words echoed in his head, 'crushin' our opponents, not daydreamin' about someone who isn't even showin' up.' Harsh, maybe, but Atsumu had a knack for cutting through the noise.

He crouched down to rummage through his closet, pulling out a pair of running shoes. His fingers paused over the laces, thoughts swirling despite his best efforts to shut them down. Atsumu wasn't wrong, he always knew how to hit Bokuto where it hurt, but it was for his own good, right?

Still, the reminder stung. Bokuto wasn't used to this feeling, this hollow weight in his chest. Normally he was unstoppable. Bright, bold, unshakable. But the idea of someone not wanting to be part of his world, even for as something as simple as a game, gnawed at him in a way he couldn't explain. He shook his head and muttered to himself. "Stop being dramatic, Bokuto. It's just a game, and it's just one person."

But that wasn't entirely true, was it? He grabbed a hoodie and pulled it over his head, glancing at the mirror out of habit. His reflection stared back, looking just as off as he felt. It wasn't just a game, it was the game, the one he'd been hyped for since he heard about it. And it wasn't just one person, it was you. The one person who'd been patient when he struggled with concepts, who actually listened when he rambled, who filled the quiet moments with a sense of presence that made them anything but empty.

As stared at himself, Atsumu's other words came rushing back. 'Yer spiralin', Bokkun. Ovethinkin' stuff isn't your style. Yer a doer, not a thinker.'

Bokuto huffed out a laugh, half annoyed, half grateful. Atsumu had a point. Thinking wasn't his strong suit, it never had been. When something felt off, he didn't analyze it; he fixed it. When things were tough, he powered through. But what was he supposed to do now? You weren't a problem he could solve, and he couldn't just barrel into your dorm and demand that you care about the game as much as he did, care about him as much as he cared for you.

The fabric of the hoodie sat uncomfortably against his skin in the warmth of his room. Maybe that's what was bothering him the most; the realization that he couldn't make you care. He couldn't make you want to come. That had to come from you.

As he grabbed his earbuds and headed for the door, Bokuto clenched his fists, trying to shake off the tightness in his chest. Atsumu was right. A run would clear his head. He just needed to focus on the game, his team, and the roar of the crowd.

But even as he stepped outside and started jogging down the sidewalk, the cool night air brushing against his cheeks, one thought kept creeping back in. What if, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop caring about someone who didn't care back? After the test, you will be out of his life.

He picked up his pace, pushing himself harder. The rhythm of his steps pounded against the pavement, a slight contrast to the music in his ears. He didn't want to think anymore, not about the game, not about you, not about how much he'd hoped to see you in the stand, even just once, and definitely not about how he would probably never see you again.

Bokuto slowed to a stop, his breath clouding the crisp night air as he leaned forward, hands braced on his knees. His heart pounded in his chest, not just from the run but from the restless thoughts he'd been trying to outrun. He straightened, wiping his damp forehead with his sleeve, and glanced upward.

The stars stretched out endlessly, tiny lights scattered across the vast, dark canvas. He stared at them, searching for anything familiar, and then he saw it. Orion's Belt. Three stars lined up in perfect harmony, just as you'd described.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Found it," he murmured, his voice almost lost in the quiet. He could hear your voice in his head, patiently guiding him through constellations on that late-night call. He'd been so excited then, almost giddy when he'd finally spotted it. Now, the memory felt bittersweet.

He sighed, letting his gaze linger on the stars. You were under this same sky. The thought crept in uninvited, a whisper he couldn't ignore. Were you looking at the stars, too? Or were you buried in papers, completely unaware of how much space you were taking up in his mind?

Bokuto let out a small, humorless laugh, "What am I doing?" he muttered to himself. The stars didn't have answers. They just sat there, shining quietly, indifferent to the questions swirling in his chest.

The night stretched on, restless and heavy. You had tried to focus, burying yourself in the pile of notes and textbooks spread across your desk, but the words blurred together into meaningless shapes. Your thoughts kept circling back to the same place, or rather, the same person.

You sighed, dragging a hand through your hair as you stood and began pacing. You hated this feeling. It was uncomfortable, unfamiliar, like a knot you couldn't untangle. Why did it bother you so much? Why did the thought of him sitting somewhere, hurt or upset, gnaw at you in a way you couldn't ignore?

You prided yourself on being the kind of person who could deal with things on your own. You didn't need help sorting out your feelings, or at least, that's what you always told yourself. Asking for help meant admitting you didn't have everything under control, and that was something you hated doing.

But this? This felt different. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't sort through the swirling mess in your head on your own.

Your gaze drifted to your phone sitting on the nightstand. One name popped into your mind, Yachi. She was thoughtful, steady, the kind of person who could make sense of things you couldn't. You hesitated, staring at the phone as if it might leap up and solve your problem for you.

What if she thought you were being ridiculous? What if she didn't have an answer? Or worse, what if she did, and you didn't like it?

Your chest tightened, and for a moment, you considered pushing the thought away, pretending this confusion didn't exist. But the weight inside you wouldn't budge.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, you grabbed the phone and dialed.

"Hello?" Yachi's voice came through after the second ring, light and friendly, just as you expected.

"Hey," you said, sitting on the edge of your bed. Your voice sounded small. uncertain, "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Of course," she replied immediately, her tone warm and inviting. "What's going on?"

You hesitated, picking at the fabric of your blanket. "It's Bokuto-san," you admitted finally. "I think I messed up. I told him I couldn't go to his game, and now... I don't know. He hasn't come to study, and I feel..." you trailed off, struggling to find the words. "I feel bad. Really bad. But I don't know why it's bothering me this much."

Yachi hummed thoughtfully on the other end. "Why do you think it's bothering you?"

"I dont know!" you burst out, the frustration bubbling over. "I mean, I care, obviously. But it's just tutoring, right? That's all it's supposed to be. So why does it feel like... like it's more than that?"

Yachi's voice was gentle when she responded. "Maybe it's because you care about him more than you thought."

Your stomach flipped. "No," you said quickly, then hesitated. "I mean... I don't know. He's just... He's Bokuto. He's loud and annoying, and he never sits still. He's the complete opposite of me! But he's also... he's kind. And funny. And," you stopped, heat creeping up your neck as you realized where your thoughts were going. "And I like having him around."

"That's not a bad thing," Yachi said softly.

You pressed your lips together, the truth of her words making your chest feel tight. "I... I should go," you said abruptly, your voice sounding distant to even yourself.

Yachi paused for a beat, then replied, "Okay. But hey, don't overthink it too much, alright? Just... be honest with yourself."

"Yeah," you murmured, even though you weren't sure how to do that. "Thanks, Yachi."

"Anytime," she said warmly. "Goodnight."

You hung up, dropping the phone onto your bed and staring at the ceiling. The room felt too quiet now, the silence pressing in around you. Yachi's words replayed in your mind like a song stuck on loop.

'Maybe it's because you care about him more than you think'

Your chest tightened again, and you rolled onto your side, tucking your knees to your chest. Did you care about him more than you thought? That seemed impossible. It was just tutoring, wasn't it? Helping him study so he could pass a test, so he could play volleyball, so he could...

Your train of thought faltered, and you say up abruptly, shaking your head. This was ridiculous. Bokuto was loud, chaotic, the kind of person who threw you off balance without even trying. You couldn't possibly-

But then why did the thought of him now showing up tonight feel like something was missing? Why did you keep picturing the way his face fell when you told him no, or the excitement in his voice when he'd invited you to the game?

Your gaze drifted to the window, where the night sky stretched endlessly. Stars glittered against the inky blackness, their light steady and unwavering. Orion's Belt caught your eye, its familiar formation somehow comforting.

You leaned your forehead against the cool glass, staring at the constellation. Somewhere under the same sky, Bokuto was out there. Maybe he was looking at these same stars, his thoughts as tangled as yours. The image made your chest ache, a strange mix of longing and uncertainty.

What would he think if he knew how much space he was taking up in your head right now?

The thought of him being hurt by your rejection crept in again, sharp and unwelcome. You hadn't meant to hurt him. You didn't even know why you'd said no in the first place other than your excuse. Maybe it was fear, fear of getting closer, fear of caring too much, fear of letting someone like him, someone so open and bright, into the quieter corners of your life.

But that fear hadn't stopped you from caring. It hadn't stopped you from missing him tonight or from wondering if you'd made a mistake.

You sighed, your breath fogging up the glass. The stars blurred for a moment, and you wiped the fog away, your fingers trailing against the cool surface.

'Maybe it's because you care about him more than you thought'

Yachi's words echoed again, and this time, you didn't push them away.

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tags: @strwbivy

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