#i literally love him so much but like 😭😭

[merlucide]

BLLK TEAM SPOTTING YOU IN THE CROWD!

notes: hahahahehajajsj I’m SO excited for this guys- the new episode had me TWEAKING.

characters: Isagi, Rin, Bachira, Chigiri, Nagi, Karasu, Otoya, Yukimiya, Niko, Gagamaru, Aryu, Reo, Barou, Hiori, Shidou

warnings: reading the same thing over again but in a different font LMAO, cringe but WHO gaf??, y/n glazing (help😭💀)

You and your friend managed to snag close seats for the Blue Lock vs. U-20 match, and you could BARELY contain your excitement!!—especially because your beloved boyfriend was playing. You both were decked out in all blue, sticking out from the white and red crowd. The odds were stacked against him and his team, but you had complete confidence that they would hold their own. As you settled into your seats, the teams made their way onto the field. The moment you spotted your boyfriend, you and your friend screamed your heads off, cheering as loud as you could. The game was going great so far; at halftime, the score was 2-1, with Blue Lock in the lead! The players were standing around on the field, catching their breath, when he finally spotted you in the crowd, screaming + waving your arms wildly.

ISAGI YOICHI

He’s like ehh?!? You came?!? To watch him?!? For reals?!

Gets all touched lmao 😭

Waves back with a big ol smile :3

Means a lot because you cheered for him when he was nobody 🥹 AND now he’s playing against THE U-20 aaaa

Yells ‘HIIIII’

-Bachira wiggles his eyebrows at him 😏 -which makes him all blushy and pushes him off him lol

Que bachira going ‘ooooooo isagi’s gotta s/ooooooo 🤭😏’

So embarrassed hehe

Blows you a little kiss when nobody’s looking tho :3

RIN ITOSHI

He didn’t think you’d come tbh

Feels proud that you did tho! not that he’d let you know ofc

He gave you a little wave and called it good (he has to remain mysterious- especially in front of Sae!!)

He’s very conflicted if he’s glad you came or if wishes you didn’t lmao 💀

Bc when he heard ‘Woah- They’re cute’ from his teammates he snapped his head over

“They’re taken, back off scum.” He’ll snap

Everyone’s sorta like ?? RIN PULLED SOMEONE?? 

Que immediate questioning

‘HOW DID YOU GET A S/O BEFORE I DID?!’ ‘I feel bad for them..’ ‘DID YOU PAY THEM??’

He just tells them to shut up

smirking inside, heh

BACHIRA MEGURU

He’s like 😦-> 🤩

inside he’s like ‘OHMYGOSHTHEYCAMEEEEEEE! :D’

Screams your name jumping and waving his arms

‘Y/NNNNNNN ARE YOU WATCHING ME?!? Y/NNNNNNNN!!’

‘YEAAAAAAAAAH!! YOU LOOKED SO COOOOOOOOL!!’

You def go with his mom tho 😌

You and Yuu are screaming your heads off together- ‘GOOO !! YOU GOT THIS!!!’ ‘GET THE FREAKIN’ BALL MEGURU!! HES OPEN- GOOOOO!!!’

Shes very glad you’re supportive of her son 🥹<3 (live laugh love yuu)

He points to you and says to his friends ‘THATS MY S/O!!! :D’

and they’re just like ‘..cool buddy’

They’re trying to figure out how he pulled someone lmao

After the match he practically jumps on you lol- No sorry, he literally does and you both crash on the floor

Both of you are just rolling around screaming in excitement lol

CHIGIRI HYOMA

So embarrassed lol

Like ‘My family AND my s/o came?!” Help he appreciates yall coming but it flusters him!!

Especially when his teammates are making comments about YOU and his SISTER

it’s too much for him 🙂‍↕️

He made it real clear that he’s your bf tho, so no one gets ideas!!

Really happy you came though, especially since you were one of the most encouraging people when he tore his ACL <3

NAGI SEISHIRO

Didn’t even think you’d come- like the thought that you would come didn’t even cross his mind (go figure)

‘Oh, y/n’s here, cool’

Lazily waves back

Wants to tell Reo you’re here but remembered that they broke up  🙂‍↕️

Yuki goes up to him and asks ‘Oh who’s that?’ and he’s just like ‘It’s y/n’

‘..I see, who is y/n?’ ‘uh, I don’t remember..🧍‍♀️’

‘Someone important tho,’

Just sorta stares at you until the whistle blows lmao 😭

KARASU TABITO

Super proud n smug :)

Like ‘Heh, MY s/o came’

Super super happy you’re there omg, but ofc he can’t let that show too much 😌

Waves back ofc

He looks at all his teammates to make sure they’re seeing this

It makes him feel really special that you came to watch HIM play :)

Def a confidence booster

Gets a annoyed bc he knows you spent a shit ton of money for this lmao

🐝:’oooo who’s that Karasu-kun?’ 

🐦‍⬛: ‘Heh, that’s my s/o 😏’

🐝: ‘For realsies? :o’

🐦‍⬛: ‘Yup 😌’

🥷:He’s such a simp bro’

🐦‍⬛:’Shut up Otoya.’

OTOYA EITA

He’s low key tweaking on the inside tbh

gives you the frat boy ‘nod’ and the three finger wave 💀

Doesn’t even wait for anyone to ask about you he’s already going

‘Yeah that hot chick/person is my s/o, it’s aight’ to be jealous’

But they’re just like ?? How tf did YOU pull anybody bro??

Poses for you LMAO

Is def waiting for you to make an edit of him or smth 😐

Your friend is looking at you like ‘seriously, him?~_~’ I am that friend.

Will NAWT shut up about how his hella hot s/o came to his game

YUKIMIYA KENYU

He’s like ‘Oh! They’re here?! Really?’ :3

Calls your name and gives a big wave

Super happy and proud that you came :)

Laughs a bit at the your dramatic outfits but appreciates it!

Tells the nearest person who you are and a bit about cha’ :3

When you blow him kisses he catches em’ and cradles them to his heart >:)

got a side eye from Nagi lol

NIKO IKKI

SOOOO flustered lmao

pink cheeks n everything ><

whispers a ‘hi’ and waves a little wave back

Super duper excited n happy you came :3

Wants to impress you so bad now- lol

Really hope no one sees you bc he might just die if he gets teased

-which of course they do and what he feared happens lmao

ARYU JINBEI

a very stylish single tear falls from his eye

‘Oh dearest y/n, you are so glam for this, I cannot even..!’

Dramatically flares his arms as a ‘wave’ and sings your name

‘Y/NNNNNNNNNN!- are you ready for this historic momennnnnnt-‘

Poses elegantly for you, talking to himself about how styl this is

GAGAMARU GIN

Squinting like ‘Is that y/n’ - o -

then eyes wide like ‘It is y/n’ • o •

Jumps up and hits his head on the goal 💀 then proceeds to jump again

Waves both arms and yells really slowly ‘CAAAAAN YOUUUU SEEEEE MEEEEEE?’

Then proceeds to talk to you yelling his lungs out, he stopped when Karasu told him ‘shut up, they can’t hear ya’’

He stopped for a brief moment, then continued

 (after they get on field)

REO MIKAGE

SO happy. Like ‘🥹😁’ happy

Smiling the BIGGEST smile :)

Really, really appreciates you coming

Especially since you were literally the only other person aside from Ba-Ya that supported his dream

And! Speaking of Ba-Ya she was beside you in her usual attire, waving a little blue flag

Waves to you with both hands😌

Also blows you so many kisses ofc 

Afterwards he’s going to give you the biggest hug and the FASTEST smooch ever

BAROU SHOEI

He was hoping you’d come, he wanted you to see just how much more he’s improved 😌

He heard your cheers and screams when he came into field and that also fueled into his desire to crush Isagi >:3 like ‘heh, bet’

You were VERY happy with how he celebrated his goal 😏🤭 you spammed your camera lmao

Waves back at you ofc, he is a gentleman after all

When someone asks who are you he just says ‘My partner, y/n. Don’t get any ideas donkey.’

heh, 😏

Really appreciates you coming :) especially with how expensive tickets are oml

def forced you to let him pay you back lmao

HIORI YO

He knew his parents would be there, but he wasn’t sure if you’d come. Very pleased you did! :)

Chuckles + rolls his eyes at your outfits

He’s got a cute little smile on his face :3

Waves back at you and signs you ‘thanks’

Points you out as ‘y/n, my sweet s/o’ to Isagi

Brags to him too lmao

Like ‘Yeah, they’re like perfect in every way- but you’ll find someone who is pretty decent though, don’t worry ☺️’

SHIDOU RYUSEI (my man will always be included soo)

Lets out the goofiest, happiest laugh

points at you with two hands and yells

So pumped you came omg

‘SAE- SAE LOOK! THATS MY BABY! THE ONE I WAS TELLN’ YOU ABOUT!’ ‘I don’t care.’

Continues to yell out you asking ‘DID I LOOK COOL?’ or ‘DID YOU FREAKN SEE THAT?’

Blows you tons of kisses before he has to start again

everyone on the bllk team is genuinely confused how tf this guy pulled anyone and is concerned for you and your mental health 💀

AHHAJSJEJES IM SO EXCITED BROOOOO

made Nov 9 2024

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

im STUDYINGGGG AGAIN hahaha and i decided to read ⬇️

You were pregnant.How could this happen? How the fuck could this happen?

so u see… there’s this bird and this bee…

You weren't going to cry. You couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you physically couldn’t. Not with your makeup done so carefully. Your eyes were lined so meticulously, your foundation blended like a dream, your lips painted in that bold red everyone said you pulled off effortlessly. You couldn’t afford to let your mascara run. He wasn’t worth it.

why r u lowkey funny 😭 girly is going through it but she can’t cry bc she needs to keep her makeup intact is hilarious to me

Ruthie? That girl was giving everyone her signature snake sneer. Of course she was. The bitch had this superpower of sensing everyone's business before they even knew it themselves.

WHAT IF RUTHIE KNOWS

That would be so him, though.

oh my god

You did out without even thinking, grabbing Topper’s ear between two manicured fingers like you were his mom dragging him out of Sunday school, pulling him away.

like i said she’s FUNNNYYYY

But why did it hurt? Perhaps a small part of you wanted him to show up—just to see you, just to care. The other part, however, didn’t. You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or this… this thing inside you.

okokokok i love that she's hypocritical because all her motives makes sense and the sense of flow is so perfectly-paced it makes me wanna scream

They were trying to get you to admit you didn’t invite him. Well, they’d have to try harder. You’d been swimming around sharks since you were born, no one was going to fuck you over so easily.

Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw him.Rafe. 

a GUN

You stood taller, and forced a smile, but as you started to step down from the stage, you felt it.

THIS BITCH

“Can we just—” he was practically jogging after you, his voice strained. “Can we talk like fucking adults?”

im actually shaking

He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, the same agitated motion you’d seen a thousand times as if he was trying to smooth out the mess in his head.

this motion is so him too

He wasn’t apologizing for ghosting you. He wasn’t apologizing for her. 

WHAT IF SHE TOLD HIM TO APOLOGIZE

He stepped closer, looming over you now, his lips curling into that sneer. “I’m trying to give you a chance to be friends—”Give you? Like you were some charity case to him? As if you should be thankful.

i would be literally committing mass murders rn

You told him the truth and now it had become the scar he wouldn’t stop picking at. He was hurt. And he was angry, because you’d finally told him the truth about his dad, and it shattered that fake picture he had in his head. 

literally get a grip

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” he growled, stepping forward. “That’s why we broke up. Because you don’t fucking get it.”

bro idolizes his dad wayyy too much

You shook your head, “No, we broke up because you didn’t like me telling the truth. Your dad was a piece of shit, and you know it.”

i love her so much

Rafe pulled at the back of his neck again, looking like he might’ve ground his teeth to dust. “Oh, I get it now,” he says, his voice thick with condescension. “You’re jealous.”

there would be nothing but god stopping me from murdering this man

“Jealous?” you repeated, in disbelief. “Of your little pogue girlfriend? Please, fucking spare me. You want me to throw a penny at her?”

she’s so bitchy i love her

He stepped closer, his breath quickening. "She’s real, okay? She’s not some polished barbie pretending in front of everyone, just to fall apart behind closed doors."

TOPPER HAND ME A GLOCK

"Real huh?" You scoffed, the bitterness in your chest taking over. "Is that what you call it? Someone who doesn’t know the difference between caviar and fucking canned tuna? That’s the 'real' you’ve been slumming it with?"

she's actually so real

"Is that a joke? You spend so much time trying to be your father, you’ve lost yourself. Do you think I don’t see it? You’re so fucking empty without his approval,” Your voice dipped lower, “You’re so pathetic it’s almost sad."

TELL HIM GIRLY POP

He said it so casually, so carelessly, as if it hadn’t ripped you apart. It was the way he said it, with that hint of affection, like she was this delicate, shiny little thing he was protecting, and you—you—were just a threat he had to deal with.

he likes SOFIA makes me wanna scream

"I'll drag the fucking Pope into this if I have to.”

i read this as pope heyward and went LEAVE MY MAN POPE OUT OF THIS

Once again, you pondered telling her everything—about breaking down and spilling every ugly detail. But that would make it real.

i wish she DID OHMYGOD

💌 — the visceral anger i feel for rafe right now makes me wanna register for a gun. also also, their fight that cuts so deep because they know each other so well is done to PERFECTION and not only that, i LOVE LOVE LOVE how you can follow reader's train of thoughts—so even if she's hypocritical in her response, it makes perfect sense. lastly, rafe has the fucking audacity i would've slapped him so hard he would've saw his dad ok done

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - THREE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x Sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, of abortion, health risks & death.

Two lines.

Two bold, definitive lines.

You blinked. Once, twice, but it didn’t change. It wasn’t going away. 

Two lines, clear as fucking day, staring back at you like they were taunting you.

The universe was laughing right in your face. You felt everything plummet to the very bottom of the earth—the room, the floor, your stomach—it all just plummeted, like you’d been pushed off a cliff with no warning.

The test fell from your grip, clattering onto the marble countertop, but you didn’t care. You backed away from it like it was something radioactive, something dangerous that could destroy you if you got too close. But it already had, hadn’t it?

You were pregnant.How could this happen? How the fuck could this happen?

You knew how, obviously. You weren’t that dumb. All you could see in your head was Rafe’s stupid fucking face. His name alone made you want to punch something, preferably his balls. 

You were pregnant? With his kid? You were so careful with your life, with your image. 

You could feel the resentment rise in your throat again, the taste of acid making you want to scream. He didn’t get to do this to you. He couldn’t ruin your life twice, fuck you up this bad and then just leave. You wanted to hate him. You did hate him. You hated it. And worse, you hated yourself.

There you were, stuck with this. Alone with a baby you didn’t even want to think about. The thought of it growing inside you—of carrying some piece of him, some reminder of everything he put you through these past two months—it was loathsome. He wasn’t part of this, not anymore. And you weren’t that girl—you didn’t want to be. You weren’t the one who begged for him to care, who waited around for him to come to his senses, who made excuses.

You weren't going to cry. You couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you physically couldn’t. Not with your makeup done so carefully. Your eyes were lined so meticulously, your foundation blended like a dream, your lips painted in that bold red everyone said you pulled off effortlessly. You couldn’t afford to let your mascara run. He wasn’t worth it.

You weren’t going to ruin all that hard work over him again. No way.

You pressed a tissue to your eyes—not to cry, but to catch the stray moisture that threatened to ruin your eyeliner—and took a deep breath. You smoothed your dress, and made sure everything was in place. 

You didn’t have time to figure it out, or wallow, or throw shit around. You straightened your back, lifted your chin, and forced yourself to feel nothing. 

Not the panic, not the nausea, not the rage. Nothing. 

You could push it all down, shove it into that deep hellish place in your guts where you put everything else. Later, maybe you’d have to let it out.  

Just as you were spiraling deeper into the pit, there was a knock on the door. Loud. It made you jump, pulling you out of your head for just a second.

“Hey!” It was Lily, her voice bright, oblivious. “It’s time. We need you out there. You’ve got like three minutes.”

Right. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was.

You stepped out of the room, every movement rehearsed, the smile expertly placed on your lips. You were a master at this—faking it, pretending like nothing in the world could touch you.  Not after seeing those two fucking lines.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked through the hallway, down the steps, and into the ballroom. It was filled with kooks being kooks. Fake smiles, fake compliments, fake friendships. You weren’t even listening to a word anyone said to you.

“Hi, darling, you look stunning as always,” someone said, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. You smiled, said thank you, maybe even added a you too, but you couldn’t hear yourself. Your body knew exactly what to do at these things. 

Pretend like you gave a shit.

“Your dad would be so proud,” another woman gushed, and you wanted to throw up. You laughed. 

If he knew what was happening. Pregnant? By a man who didn’t put a ring on your finger?

And there they were, of course—Topper, Kelce and Ruthie, standing in the middle of it all, grinning like idiots. Well, Topper grinning like an idiot.

Ruthie? That girl was giving everyone her signature snake sneer. Of course she was. The bitch had this superpower of sensing everyone's business before they even knew it themselves.

A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne flutes, and you reached out instinctively, but the waiter, somehow, just missed you. The tray floated right past, and before you could even realize the fact that you didn’t have a drink in your hand, her eyes were on you.

“Oh, you're not drinking?” she asked, voice dripping with fake concern. Her eyes flickered, like she knew something, and you swear to god, your eyelid twitched.

“Not yet,” you replied with the same faux smile.

Ruthie just kept watching you with those too-knowing eyes, like she was looking for a crack, some little tell. Because she always did.

You had to be so careful around her.

One wrong move, one second, and she’d be all over it, spreading it around the entire town before you even had a chance to breathe.

Your cousin, completely oblivious, was babbling with Kelce about something—probably golf, or the new boat his dad bought, or some other thing you couldn’t care less about. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but you were mentally still in the bathroom, staring at those two lines.

“So, you invited Rafe?” Kelce said it like it was nothing, like bringing up your ex-boyfriend was the most casual thing in the world.

“What the actual fuck did you just say?” You all but growled out, enough to make him choke on his champagne.

He looked genuinely confused, as if he didn’t just mention the one person you’d rather hurl off a bridge at the moment. “Yeah, Rafe. He’s on the list, right?”

Your whole body went rigid. You blinked, trying to keep your face from giving anything away, but inside? You were dying. Ruthie’s eyebrows shot up—oh great, now you had her attention too.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Kelce, of course, had the nerve to chuckle. 

If Rafe had spoken to them about being taken off the guest list, you’d lose it. The insolence of him mentioning your name—like he still had any right to talk about you? He should’ve buried the memory of you right along with whatever feelings he claimed to have had.

But then, if he hadn’t said a word about it to his best friends—that meant something worse. That meant he didn’t care. He was over it. Over you. 

He hadn’t even bothered to tell them that he wasn’t coming to the gala because he wasn’t thinking about it. Or about you. 

You hated either possibility. 

Kelce like the asshole he was, "I thought you two were—"

"Don't." You cut him off so fast, so hard, he had to take a step back. 

You wanted to grab Top by his clueless shoulders and demand answers. Did Rafe care? Was he coming tonight? You didn’t like any option—every scenario made you want to get on a plane to the other side of the world.  If he was planning to show up despite being cut from the list…Shit, what would you even do? You could feel the headache starting already. 

That would be so him, though.

The arrogance. The entitlement, ignoring boundaries because he never thought the rules applied to him.

Ruthie, of course, was still watching you like a hawk. Her eyes darted between you and Topper, and you could practically feel her mind working, trying to piece together whatever she thought she was seeing. She loved this. She lived for other people’s drama, and you knew she’d sniff out anything that didn’t look flawless.

You did out without even thinking, grabbing Topper’s ear between two manicured fingers like you were his mom dragging him out of Sunday school, pulling him away.

"Ow, Jesus—what the hell?!" he yelped, stumbling to keep up with you in his shiny loafers as you all but hauled him into the nearest corner of the ballroom, out of sight, but still within earshot of the crowd. 

You didn’t care. Let someone see. Let them all see.

You turned to him, barely letting go of his ear, your nails tapping impatiently against your crossed arms. He looked at you like you’d lost your mind, and maybe you had.

“Spill it.”

He was still rubbing his ear. “What are you talking about?”

“Rafe,” you snapped, eyes narrowing. “Is he coming tonight? And don’t you dare lie to me, Top.”

He gulped. Actually gulped. You swore you could see the gears turning in that pretty, empty head of his, trying to figure out if he could weasel his way out of this.

“I— I don’t know, okay?” Topper stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t talked to him today, but I figured… I mean, he always comes to these things, so I assumed—"

That meant Rafe didn’t tell him. That your little stunt hadn’t phased him in the slightest. 

“You assumed?” You leaned in closer, eyes burning holes into his skull. “After everything, you thought it was a good idea to just assume he’d show up and not even bother telling me?”

“I can’t put him on a leash!” His voice rose defensively, eyes wide like he was the one under attack. And yeah, maybe he was. Maybe you’d gone full psycho mode. Rafe always turned you into this—this furious, spiraling, out-of-control version of yourself.

Your cousin was just collateral damage.

“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe someone should.”  You said it slowly like you were explaining something to a child. “Do you even know what it’s like?” you hissed, leaning in closer, your voice dropping , “To sit here, wondering if he’s gonna show up like some ticking time bomb?”

Topper’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He didn’t know shit about what you were going through. How could he? He wasn’t the one with a whole life-changing secret burning a hole in his brain, wondering if the father of the child growing inside him was going to ruin everything—again.

“I—I didn’t think it was that serious,” Topper stammered, hands flying up in surrender. “I mean, he’s always been a dick, but—”

You remember the first thing he texted you after weeks of radio silence.

“No,” you interrupted, “He’s more than just a dick. He’s—” You stopped yourself before you said too much. God, you were on the edge, and you needed to rein it in. 

Topper, still looking like a kicked puppy, shifted on his feet. 

“Look, I’ll text him. I’ll ask if he’s coming or not, okay?” He pulled out his phone, typing something quickly. You watched him, arms crossed, tapping your foot against the marble floor like your life depended on it.  If you saw his face—his stupid, beautiful, infuriating face—you didn’t know what you’d do. 

Punch him? Scream? Run? The thought of him being here, so close, when you hadn’t even processed what was happening to you…

“Okay, he says—” He paused, squinting at his screen, “he’s not coming.”

The relief. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, shoulders sagging for just a second before you caught yourself. He’s not coming.

But why did it hurt? Perhaps a small part of you wanted him to show up—just to see you, just to care. The other part, however, didn’t. You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or this... this thing inside you.

“See?” Topper said, holding up his phone like it was some peace offering. “He’s not coming. Crisis averted.” He gave you this awkward, nervous smile, like he thought you might hit him again.

You forced a laugh, even though nothing about this was funny.

“Great. Awesome. Perfect,” you said through gritted teeth simultaneously smoothing your dress, and pushing your hair back over your shoulder, “Thanks, Top. Really. You’re a real lifesaver.”

He looked at you like he wasn’t sure if you were being sarcastic or not, but you didn’t care. The moment was over. You’d survived. 

You rolled your eyes as you turned away heading back toward your original group. Of course, Ruthie was still standing there her arms crossed, that smug little smirk on her face. She’d been watching the whole thing, no doubt about it. 

You could feel her nosy ass dissecting every single move you made. 

“He’s not here yet,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing just enough to piss you off. “Weird, right? Maybe he’s busy with Sofia.”

Of course, she brought up that fucking name. 

She was sniffing out blood in the water, as if she wasn’t just another Sarah Cameron knock-off. You could already picture it—the headlines, the whispers spreading through the audience, everyone talking about you. The legacy who ruined her own gala.

Kelce snorted, not even bothering to hide his amusement, because of course he thought this was all a joke. He never got it. None of them did.

You wished, for just a second, that you weren’t born into this pristine, high-society life. You felt so smothered by these expectations. If you were anyone else, if you weren’t some debutante raised on champagne and etiquette, you’d have punched her right there. You’d have knocked her straight to the floor and wiped that pretentious smile off her face with blood in front of every stuck-up rich asshole in the room. 

“I didn’t realize we were talking about her,” you said, voice like sugar, even though you knew Ruthie could sense the underlying warning in it,“But thanks, Ruthie, for always keeping me updated on things that don’t concern you.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t back down yet.

“Just making conversation. I mean, it is weird that he hasn’t shown up yet, right? Considering how close you two used to be. I’m sure it’s nothing, though.”

Kelce, that asshole, leaned in, "Come on, don't act like you’re over it." His eyes glanced down to your hand. "You’re shaking."

You were. You hadn’t even noticed.

But instead of acknowledging it, you shot him a look that could've killed. "Fuck off, Kelce."

They were trying to get you to admit you didn’t invite him. Well, they’d have to try harder. You’d been swimming around sharks since you were born, no one was going to fuck you over so easily.

“Uh-huh,” Ruthie said, not buying a word of it. Her eyes flicked between you and Topper, and you knew what she was doing. She was fishing. “You sure about that? You were giving him a look.”

You glanced at your cousin, who was still rubbing his ear like a toddler. “Just sorting out some... logistics for the gala,” you said, voice saccharine, but it felt like chewing on glass. “It’s nothing. Really.”

She arched a brow, her lips curling up in a knowing grin. She knew something was off. She always did. “Right,” she said slowly, drawing the word out like she was savoring it. “Because for a second there, it looked like you were about to explode.”

She was monitoring you so closely, you could feel it crawling up your skin.

“You know,” she sighed, like she cared. “If something’s going on you can tell me. I won’t say a word.”

That was rich. Ruthie, keeping a secret? You’d sooner trust a thief with your jewelry.  “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” you said, not keeping the sarcasm out of your voice. “But trust me, there’s nothing to tell.”

Ruthie’s pursed her lips, annoyed that she hadn’t managed to dig anything up, “Are you—”

You were two seconds away from shoving her into the nearest fountain. But instead, you took a deep breath, “You should worry less about me,” you advised her, “and more about that atrocious dress you’re wearing.”

The smile fell off her face so fast, it was glorious.

You didn’t wait for her to recover. You turned on your heel, and grabbed Topper by the arm.

As soon as you were far enough away, he let out a breath he’d been holding. “Jesus, I thought you were gonna deck her.”

You grinned, but there was no warmth in it. “I still might.”

He sighed, “She’s still my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, downgrading seems like a thing for you boys.”

Like a guardian angel sent from above, Lily appeared, stepping between you two with a concerned expression.

“Hey, hey,” she interrupted, glancing between you, “What was that about?”

You could see the caution in her eyes. She wasn’t stupid—Lily knew things between you and Rafe had been rocky, and she’d probably been sensing the tension the entire night. But right now, she was doing her best to defuse the earlier situation before it got any worse.

“Nothin’, just Ruthie being herself,” You dismissed, as you grabbed onto her forearm, “Let’s go.”

Lily blinked, startled by your urgency, but she didn’t argue. “Yeah, we should head backstage, the speech is coming up.”

“Bye Top. Stay the fuck away from the chocolate fountain.”

You could hear him whine in the back, “I did that shit once!”

Lily pulled you along through the ballroom, her arm linked with yours, quickening her pace to keep up with you as you nearly bolted toward the back of the venue. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you bit out, though your voice didn’t even convince you. “I’m fine. I just need to get this speech over with.”

“Uh-huh,” She replied, clearly not convinced, but smart enough to drop it for now. “You got it, don’t worry.”

Finally, you made it to the side entrance that led backstage. The thick drapes and low lighting created a shield, giving you a small moment of privacy before the world demanded your attention again. 

Lily stood next to you, gently touching your arm, “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. We can stall, or—”

“I have to,” you stopped her, rubbing a hand over your face, “I can’t—” You didn’t finish your sentence because you didn’t know how to say it. You had no choice.

Lily’s fingers squeezed your arm a little tighter. “Okay,” she said quietly, nodding. “But I’m here if you need me.”

You forced a smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks,” you whispered, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth.

You appreciated her being here, really, but she was blissfully unaware of the pregnancy test in the trash can. 

Taking a deep breath, you adjusted your posture, straightened your dress, and ran a hand through your hair, reminding yourself that you’d been here before. You’d stood on that stage so many times.

This wasn’t new. You just had to get through it. 

One more speech. One more night. You glanced at Lily, gave her a quick nod, and stepped through the final curtain. Back into the spotlight. Back into the role you’d perfected so well—put together, poised, untouchable.

The low murmur of the gathering hummed in your ears, growing louder with every second. You weren’t ready. You were never going to be ready.

You just needed to remember how to breathe.

The speech was printed and sitting in your hands, it felt like dead weight. You hadn’t even read through it since you’d finished it hours ago, and now, the thought of standing in front of all those people, pretending to have it together—it felt impossible.

Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Rafe. 

He said he wasn’t coming. Topper said he wasn’t coming. But there he was, standing there, watching you just like he always had. 

You hadn’t even meant to look. You didn’t do it on purpose, perhaps it was muscle memory, always searching for him. He was standing in the same spot he usually took. Like nothing had changed.

As if he hadn’t ripped you apart.

You tried to focus, but your heart was racing, thundering in your ears. 

How dare he? How fucking dare he? Instantly you were back there, that messy, intoxicating space you swore you’d never return to. The one where he controlled the air you breathed. He looked so good. Too good, really. He was wearing a crisp navy suit that hugged his frame perfectly, hair buzzed again. 

You should’ve guessed he’d find a way back here, even after everything. 

“Are you ready?” Lily whispered beside you, her voice pulling you back from the brink of a breakdown. 

“Yeah.”

Your heart raced as you forced yourself to look back at Rafe.

He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even pretending to look interested. He just stood there, his eyes locked on you, unreadable, unfathomable.

He was still watching you. It felt like could see through your polished exterior. He probably did. He knew you better than anyone else. You wondered what he saw—the confident girl who had always pulled off these events with ease or the terrified woman who was about to pass out from the pressure.

Then, he’s lips lifted slightly. That infuriating, devil-may-care almost there smirk that had made your heart stutter long before everything went to hell. It reminded you of nights spent tangled in sheets, whispers pressed against your skin under the cover of darkness, moments that felt like they belonged in a dream.

You wanted to throw the speech away and storm off the stage, leaving this whole night behind.

Instead, you cleared your throat and gripped the edges of the podium, the cool wood bringing you back to the world. 

The words were on the paper in front of you, but you didn’t need to look at them. You knew the speech by heart every year.  You’d written it yourself, after all—crafted it with care, knowing exactly what people needed to hear to make their checks bigger, to keep your father’s legacy alive.

It was just a matter of saying it without breaking.

A deep breath, and then you began.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you so much for being here tonight.”

Your voice sounded better than what you felt, and you leaned into that, letting it carry you through the first few lines.

“We gather here every year for the same reason—to celebrate the incredible work this foundation does, and to honor the legacy of those who came before us. This foundation isn’t just a charity; it’s a tribute. A way to remember those we’ve lost and to carry their dreams forward. It’s about giving back to a community that gave so much to us.”

You paused, just for a moment, glancing down at the speech in your hands, feeling the overwhelming crush of what you’re about to say next.

“For me, this has always been personal.” Your voice softened as you continued, “Most of you are aware I lost my family a few years ago. My father started this foundation. His vision was always to make sure that no one was left behind, that we take care of our own. My mother helped build it. And my sister…” You hesitated, remembering how faultless she’d been, “She was always the heart of it.”

The room was utterly still now, everyone listening intently. 

“Tonight, as I stand here, I can’t help but think about how proud they would be of what we’ve accomplished. At least, I hope they’d be proud.”

You allowed yourself a small, bittersweet smile.

“My dad would’ve been in his element, making sure everything was spotless. And my mom, well, she’d probably tell me that the curtains were horrid and needed to be replaced immediately.”

The crowd gave a light laugh, the tension in the room dissipating just a little. You smiled, a real one this time, for the first time in weeks, picturing your mother in her no-nonsense way, criticizing every decoration like it was the most important thing in the world.

“I miss them every day,” you added, “And I’m certain I’m not the only one in this room who’s experienced that kind of loss. It changes you. But it also reminds you to live in a way that makes them proud. And that’s what tonight is about, continuing their work, continuing their legacy, and making sure we do right by them.”

Your grip on the podium loosened, and you looked up, making eye contact with the audience. 

“So, to everyone here tonight—thank you. Thank you for believing in this cause. Thank you for your generosity, your support, and your kindness. And thank you for helping me keep their memory alive.”

With that, you stepped back from the podium, the applause swelling around you, but all you could hear was the sound of your heart breaking.

It was over. You did it.

Automatically, your eyes flickered up toward the back corner, the spot where Rafe was standing. You never needed to look before; you’d always just known he’d be there. It was his silent promise to you since you were sixteen. Every gala, every speech—no matter what happened between the two of you—he was there.

But he wasn’t there anymore. The space was empty.  

This was what you wanted, you didn’t need him anymore. You were going to get through this on your own. It was the first time he wasn’t there to catch you like he’d always been.

You stood taller, and forced a smile, but as you started to step down from the stage, you felt it.

That stupid fucking warmth. 

His hand found your elbow as you and every nerve in your body screamed bloody murder. The applause was still buzzing in your ears, cameras flashing—none of it registered.

All you saw was him.

Three seconds. That was how close you were to snapping. Who the fuck let him in?

You yanked your arm away, the touch burning your skin like it was staining you. You didn’t say a word—just turned and headed straight for the back exit.

Behind you, you heard his footsteps.

Of course, he never knew when to stop, when to let you breathe.

“Can we just—” he was practically jogging after you, his voice strained. “Can we talk like fucking adults?”

You were already halfway down the hall, pulling off your earrings as you stormed toward your suite.

The fucking sheer audacity of this man. You couldn’t even process it—how he could stand there, with his fake-ass calm tone, chasing after you like you were the one being unreasonable.

You threw open the door to the suite you got ready in, the one that was supposed to be your sanctuary for the night and stepped inside, not bothering to close it behind you; you knew he was going to follow you in any way.

He was relentless like that.

You tossed the earrings onto the vanity and glanced up to see he was right behind you now, lingering in the doorway, as if unsure of how much further he could push before you exploded.

He looked at you like he was the victim in all this.

“Can you at least listen to me for a second?” It sounded like he was forcing himself to stay calm.

But that bite was so Rafe.

You spun around, your breath coming out harsh.

“Listen to you? Listen to you? You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you were already pulling off your heels, the sharp tug at the straps doing nothing to calm your frustration.

He stood there, his eyes on you, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him for more than a second without feeling the betrayal flooding your chest.

Rafe was rubbing the back of his neck in that agitated way he did when he was frustrated.  “I came here because I didn’t want to leave things like that. I thought we could be civil—”

“Civil?” You nearly laughed, “You seriously think you can walk in here and be civil after everything?”

His eyes narrowed just a fraction. He moved on his feet, stepping further into the room, and you saw it—the way he rolled his shoulders like he was already preparing himself for a fight.  “I came to apologize.”

He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, the same agitated motion you’d seen a thousand times as if he was trying to smooth out the mess in his head.

Your hands stopped mid-motion, your necklace halfway off. You looked at him like he’d lost his mind. "Apologize for what, exactly?" 

“For calling you dramatic.” He exhaled like he was doing something noble by saying it. As if he was doing you a favor. “For that text. I was drunk, didn’t mean it.”

He wasn’t apologizing for ghosting you. He wasn’t apologizing for her. 

You stared at him, completely floored. He was serious, he thought this was some kind of peace offering. The fact that he thought an apology for that would fix anything? Insane.

“You think this is about that?” You cackled, chucking one shoe to the side, not caring where it landed, and the other followed right after. “Oh my god, Rafe, you are so fucking clueless.”

His expression changed then, brows furrowed, “I’m trying to make things right,” he mutters. “I don’t want you out of my life, okay?”

You threw the necklace somewhere on the ground, your patience gone. “You were the one who pushed me away. You don’t get to waltz in here and act like we can just fix things because you finally feel bad about it.”

He stepped closer, looming over you now, his lips curling into that sneer. “I’m trying to give you a chance to be friends—”

Give you? Like you were some charity case to him? As if you should be thankful.

“I don’t want to be your friend!” You growled in his face, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his chest,  “I’d rather set myself on fire than be your friend, so you can take that chance and shove it up your ass.”

His hand came up to run along his head again, and you saw the way his fingers curled into his scalp like he was trying not to give in to his impulsive thoughts. His breathing was heavier now, too, chest rising and falling quickly.  

“Why are you being so difficult?” he snapped, and there it was—the familiar, accusatory edge in his voice. “After what you said about my dad—”

The reason.

The thing that broke you two this time, the thing he’d been holding over your head. You saw the hurt in his eyes, the one thing he hadn’t let go of.

You told him the truth and now it had become the scar he wouldn’t stop picking at. He was hurt. And he was angry, because you’d finally told him the truth about his dad, and it shattered that fake picture he had in his head. 

“You’re gonna bring that up right now?” Your voice was so quiet it nearly scared you. “After all the shit you’ve put me through, that’s what you’re mad about?”

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” he growled, stepping forward. “That’s why we broke up. Because you don’t fucking get it.”

But Sofia did, right? 

That was fucking hilarious. She didn’t grow up listening to Ward’s bullshit. Didn’t see the kind of things he’d say or did to his oldest child. 

Of course, she would take his side. She didn’t know better. 

You shook your head, “No, we broke up because you didn’t like me telling the truth. Your dad was a piece of shit, and you know it.”

For a moment, the air went deadly still between you. You could sense his hurt, the way it sneaked between every bitter word.

Then, he did it—the thing you knew he would, that thing that made your blood boil. 

Rafe pulled at the back of his neck again, looking like he might’ve ground his teeth to dust. “Oh, I get it now,” he says, his voice thick with condescension. “You’re jealous.”

Your whole body went borderline rigid, like a door, locked in place.

He was standing there, offering you friendship like a pity prize, calling you jealous when you were standing there broken, trying not to fall apart because of him.

“Jealous?” you repeated, in disbelief. “Of your little pogue girlfriend? Please, fucking spare me. You want me to throw a penny at her?”

He stepped closer, his breath quickening. "She’s real, okay? She’s not some polished barbie pretending in front of everyone, just to fall apart behind closed doors."

Ouch. But you could do worse. 

"Real huh?" You scoffed, the bitterness in your chest taking over. "Is that what you call it? Someone who doesn’t know the difference between caviar and fucking canned tuna? That’s the 'real' you’ve been slumming it with?"

"At least she doesn’t care about any of this," he snapped, gesturing to the glittering gala that surrounded you both. "She’s not obsessed with keeping up appearances.”

A cold laugh escaped your lips. He must’ve forgotten to look in the mirror today.

"God, you’re so delusional. Do you think I wanted any of this?” You shot him a look that could cut through steel. "I’m not the one faking it. You are. You are still so desperate for Daddy’s approval that you can’t even see what a fucking mess you are."

Rafe's hands flexed at his sides, his fingers twitching. His nostrils flared, and he tilted his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth like he always did when he was trying to stay calm.”

"I’m not afraid of who I am," His lips barely moved as he spoke, rolling his shoulders back again, standing to his full height. "You spend so much time trying to be perfect, you don’t even know who you are anymore."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin, like a predator sizing you up, his eyes locked on yours. You could see his jaw clench, his chest rising and falling with every shallow breath as he tried to keep his composure.

You took a step closer, your chest brushing against his, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. His gaze flicked downward, scanning your face.

"Is that a joke? You spend so much time trying to be your father, you’ve lost yourself. Do you think I don’t see it? You’re so fucking empty without his approval,” Your voice dipped lower, “You’re so pathetic it’s almost sad."

He clenched his jaw again, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He took a sharp breath through his nose, staring you down with a look that was all Rafe—volatile, unreadable, on the edge of breaking.

Right then and there, Lily burst into the room, her wide eyes taking in the scene like a bomb had just gone off.

"Okay! What is going on in here?" she demanded, her voice sharp but layered with concern. “I could hear you two in the hallway. If something happened, this is not the place to deal with it.”

 “You wanna know what happened, Lily?” you started, almost laughing with disbelief. “This motherfucker started seeing someone behind my back. Two months—two fucking months—with no real closure, no answers. And he’s off fucking some pogue.”

“It’s not like that,” He scoffed, pointing a finger in your direction as he took a few steps back, "Don't drag Sofia into this.”

His posture screamed defensiveness, and all you could think was how much you hated the way he said her name. It made you want to throw up, it felt like someone was taking a rusty nail and dragging it down your spine. 

He said it so casually, so carelessly, as if it hadn’t ripped you apart. It was the way he said it, with that hint of affection, like she was this delicate, shiny little thing he was protecting, and you—you—were just a threat he had to deal with.

"I'll drag the fucking Pope into this if I have to.”

You were the one who had been there through all his bullshit, you were the one who held him together when everything in his life was falling apart. Now, suddenly, she was the one he spoke about softly. Like she mattered.

It was insulting. 

“Guys!”

Lily stepped between you both, throwing her hands up as if she were separating two wild animals about to rip each other apart.

“Please, please calm down. Rafe, I think you should leave. Now."

He looked like he wanted to say more, you knew he had a million things screaming at him beneath the surface, but for once, he stayed silent. Maybe it was the fact that Lily was there, or maybe he finally realized you weren’t going to bite into his bullshit excuses and provocations.

Whatever it was, he took a step back, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, storming past Lily and out of the room.

You could hear the distant sound of the door slamming as he left.

The moment he was gone, you felt your breath coming out in shallow gasps. Your heart dropped to your stomach, your pulse racing.

Lily turned to you; her face full of concern. She reached out and grabbed your shoulders gently.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice soothing, “Breathe. Just breathe.”

You pressed a hand to your chest, your breath hitching. Pregnant. You were pregnant with his kid, and this was what you got in return.

No peace. No calm. 

Your chest tightened, your vision blurring.  

“Hey, hey,” She cooed again, her hands on your arms, grounding you. “You’re okay. We’re going to figure this out. Just breathe, okay?”

You couldn’t believe you’d let it get this far—couldn’t believe you were even in this situation.

There was no way you were having his kid.

Absolutely not.

You didn’t even have to think about it. The decision had been made the second he’d defended her and insulted you like you were sidewalk littering.

Tomorrow, you’d take care of it. You’d book the appointment and that would be that. Clean break, no more ties to Rafe Cameron, no more staying in that fucked up twisted cycle with him.

“I really think you need to sit down and breathe for a second. You’re scaring me sweetheart, and honestly, this isn’t good for you.”

Once again, you pondered telling her everything—about breaking down and spilling every ugly detail. But that would make it real.

Your designer dress clung to you in all the wrong ways, as if even the fabric could understand the order going changes in your body. 

“Whoever let him in, I want them fired.”

You spat suddenly gaining momentary strength to ruin lives. It wasn’t just a demand; it was an execution order. 

The quiet threat of it was more terrifying than your screaming would have been. 

Tomorrow, you’d make sure this nightmare ended before it could begin. 

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[yuikira]

Kinich's birthday special!

ugh yall dont get it how much I love him. literally wrote this in between val matches😭🙏

warnings: nsfw, dirty talk, sex

"focus, i said focus baby"

"l-like i ca- uuuughh please ichi"

"hm? what's the matter?"

"this is!"

and it was. i mean, who could blame you really? he had you sat on his lap, teaching you how to play valorant just like he did. dont get him wrong, you're an excellent player, with diamond rank 1 last season, but "you can do better, yeah? lemme show you" those were his words. and now he has you sitting on his lap, his cock buried deeeep inside of you, one arm around your waist and one around your own palm resting on the mouse.

and fuck did he love it when you scored a kill? he'd thrust upwards, gently digging his fingers into your waist, that gets all the more better when you score an ace. it drove you to do more, to preform better, to get the reward you deserve, but also to go insane, to just toss away all your setup and bounce on his lap until you both can't help but moan shamelessly into each other's ears. he was such a menace, but you also loved this side of him.

"there you go, wasn't that hard was it?" he remarked as he saw +35 rr on your screen, ranking up to platinum 3.

"we still have a long way to go tho, I'm not leaving this until we reach radiant"

"radiant?! that's so far away!"

"that's the fun you wanted, didn't you baby?"

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY beautiful, pretty, adorable, cute, exquisite, attractive, gorgeous, alluring, captivating, bewitching, appealing, charming, lovely, delectable, enchanting, glorious, magnificent, angelic, sexy, stunning, superb, aesthetic, flawless, splendid, glamourous, seductive, luscious, enchanting, exceptional, first class, beckoninf, beguiling, bonny, breathtaking, dashing, divine, dreamy, exceptional, hot, ineffable, jaunty, mesmerizing, ravishing, scrumptious, PERFECT husband💗💗💗 I love you so much.

[nightcolorz]

as much as I highly dislike Marius and think he is extremely abusive, I think that everyone needs to remember that Armand LOVES Marius. Armand literally loves Marius more then he loves anyone. And it would be *extremely* difficult for Armand to stop loving marius, or to accept that he was bad to him. Armand loves Marius so fuckinh much he based his entire concept of what love even is on his relationship with Marius. Armand literally took Marius’s literal first name as his surname bcus he thinks of Marius as the most essential person in his life to the point where he positions him as not just his only family, but his literal culture and ancestry. Marius is Armand’s Father, Savior, God, Maker, and Husband. Armand loves Marius more than most people have ever loved anyone 😭 and I think it takes away from Armand’s character to act like he would be able to let go of that (at least in anyway that wouldn’t take many many years and a lot of gore)

[kisses4tom]

i don’t know if your request are open but i just wanna ask, can you do a headcanon of tom x model!reader. like the readers on vogue or she models for lingerie

ᡣ𐭩 TOM WITH A MODEL GIRLFRIEND

───────────────

omg i love this requesttt 😭 i hope you like it! and sorry for disappearing but school is slowly killing me 😻💕

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oh boy he's OBSESSED with you

always buying your magazines

would hang up posters of you on his wall

loves to attend your catwalks and is the loudest in the crowd for you

he pretty much doesn't pay attention to the other models, he's just waiting for you

he's literally Dylan Sprouse (iykyk, a whole ass green forest)

istg he would look at you like this

he's would uhm...please himself with pictures of you...

LOVES to take you photos

and also likes to exchange photos 😀iykwim (freaky ahh)

let's just say he's very pleased with your body type since you're a model and he's really into curves and stuff like that (idk how to word it but if you've seen some of his interviews you probably understand)

makes sure everyone knows you're his

you have a lot of public appeal so he's both jealous and worried people would go too far

makes sure you don't turn your job into something toxic

LOVES when you model for lingerie, but only when he gets the photos lmfao

he's kind of jealous ofc

likes to surprise and visit you during fittings and photoshoots

obviously you also attend a bunch of his concerts, and he's more than happy to see you in the crowd

always locking eyes and getting nervous/shy to the point he has to look away and focus on his guitar 🤭

Bill obviously likes to tease him with: "excuse my brother, he's very busy looking in that particular direction!"

loves when you run backstage into his arms after (especially because you don't care if he's as sweaty as a dog)

I'd say his pda level is a 6-7/10, but if he's a little jealous (doesn't matter the reason) he's a solid 8-9/10

In his eyes you're the goddess of beauty (which you are pookie! 🤭💞)

Since he's so obsessed with you, he probably makes sure to please you most in bed

he's not really into dirty talking, but he definitely gives you some words of appreciation like "you're so fucking pretty", "you're perfect", "i'm so lucky", "this is all for me, right?"

Because of tour and different schedules, sometimes you're apart for a long time. But he never misses a chance to call and Skype you whenever he can!

he's so proud that you're his girl

Flirts with you 24/7

He would remind you everyday not to listen to the obsessed fans who give you hate for being his girlfriend

He would do the thumb thingy when holding hands or cuddling

He would flip off the paparazzi if he catches them say something mean to/about you

sometimes he would disapprove of your dresses/clothes if they're too revealing

in conclusion, he's your number 1 fan 🥳

[tiramisuucakeee]

# NEED THAT ★

( reader x lee heeseung )

IN WHICH: your annoying bf keeps dming you

BTW: some from pinterest. heeseung texting like every other 20 smth year old alpha male from a frat called sigma ligma.

read more !

‘ heeseung r u on ur way alr? ’

‘ you did not just leave me on seen ’

‘ r u kidding me ?!?!?? ’

‘ alr it’s on sight ’

‘ i’m 5 mins away ’

‘ no we’re not baking anymore. i bet ur fingers r sore from texting other bitches all the time ’

‘ 😐 ’

‘ i bet ur head is sore from overthinking too much u delusional ass ’

‘ okay ’

‘ in the most psychotic and obsessive boyfriend way, i miss watching you sleep ’

‘ what ’

‘ i won’t take it back EVER ’

‘ ur so weird ’

‘ yh but u still like me dumbass 💪 ’

‘ unfortunately ’

‘ i want you so bad ’

‘ i’m literally in love with you ’

‘ can i come over? ’

‘ pleaseeeeeeeeer ’

‘ wtf ’

‘ ermmm, i didn’t send that, it was my inner demon or smth ’

‘ sure ’

‘ sure? ’

‘ u can come over, i unlocked the door ’

‘ FUCK YES ’

‘ don’t ever scream shit like that to me again lee heeseung. don’t argue with me ’

‘ GOV NAME?! IT WAS JUST A TINY FIGHT?! ’

‘ well excuse me if our problems are not that important to you. don’t expect dinner tn ’

‘ ARE YOU BANNING ME FROM HAVING FOOD? ’

‘ yh ’

‘ how long? 😓 ’

‘ until i forget i’m mad ’

‘ woman… that could take years ’

‘ don’t talk 2 me like that, who do you think you are ’

‘ uh. your bf ’

‘ whatever ’

‘ do you still love me? ’

‘ what kinda goofy ahh question is that🤣 ’

‘ answer ’

‘ yeah i do, i love you ’

‘ even tho we fight like every 2 minutes? ’

‘ especially because we fight every two mins. seeing u mad turns me on a lot 😓😓😓 ’

‘ wow ’

‘ heyyyy hot beautiful girlfrienddd of mine !!!! 🪤🪤🪤 ’

‘ hey ’

‘ what’s that supposed to mean? ’

‘ are you calling me a rat? ’

‘ what? omg no, i would never ’

‘ 🪤 ’

‘ ?????? ’

‘ doesn’t that cheese look yummy? ’

‘ i’m blocking you ’

‘ so no cheese ? ’

‘ bro ’

‘ i mean ’

‘ hot ass sexy pretty beautiful gorjuss girlfriend on mine ’

‘ gorjuss … ’

‘ let me talk, i got smth important 2 say ’

‘ so this emoji 🫢 ’

‘ it gets like ’

‘ a whole ass new dark meaning ’

‘ when u consider that ’

‘ the hand might not be his ’

‘ but someone who is behind him covering his mouth ’

‘ and jerkign him off ’

‘ wish that was u huh ’

‘ mayhaphs ’

‘ r u free? ’

‘ no ’

‘ okay so u hate me ’

‘ lee heeseung ’

‘ 😭😭😭😭 ’

‘ gf where r u'

‘ i am literally so embarrassed ’

‘ everyone at the restaurant will think my date bailed on me ’

‘ i look so hot rn fr ’

‘ like how could u ever bail on me ’

‘ gf gf gf gf ’

‘ uh. hello y/n? ’

‘ it's been 30 years.... ’

‘ i miss u ’

‘ the winters have grown so long in your absence ’

‘ i fear the crops won't last through the night ’

‘ the chill of this wind... it's so cold.... ’

‘ i shall perish tonight with the last of the corn plants ’

‘ heeseung, i’m looking 4 a space to park, calm down ’

‘ my bad ’

‘ can i tie a ribbon around your bicep? ’

‘ what why? ’

‘ just for smth ’

‘ can i say no? ’

‘ what do you think ’

‘ well damn. ok ’

‘ make it pretty ’

‘ 🤭 ’

EXTRA:

masterlist.

[hogans-heroes]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me we’re getting more of nonverbal Gale. It’d be criminal if you don’t. Sorry I’m being greedy 😩😩 but Gale clutching onto Bucky as if Bucky is even thinking of leaving him. Gale whimpering in the night and only settling when Bucky grabs hold of his hand under the covers. Gale who’s practically begging with his eyes for Bucky to slide into the bed beside him and Bucky agreeing and jokingly reminding him it can’t be for too long because the morning shift should be coming around. Bucky continuing to yap like if Gale’s replying while all Gale can do is stare at him because Bucky can read him so well. Gale who probably only continued to spiral further because he was racked with guilt for leaving Bucky behind and the uncertainty of knowing he was alive. Gale who forces his first words to be an apology to John for leaving him behind even though that’s what John wanted.

(Regarding this post, nonverbal Gale after his escape)

YOU ARE 110,000% RIGHT WITH THESE EMOTIONS I am literally dying right along with you thank you for every word and visualizing all these scenes that are so painfully perfect. I decided literally the day after posting that it would become a fic because it got a huge response and I was having SO MANY feels. I have most of the scenes lined up and might add more, it’s literally sooooo much whump and angst and hurt/comfort I’m DEADDD.

All your ideas are so so valid and right on point are we sharing a brain??? Gale and John and sooooo dependent on each other and have to be touching a lot, and John tries to keep talking for both of them and make everything as normal as possible even though he’s breaking inside. Gale who can hardly keep his grip on reality and struggles to know what’s real or not, needing John’s hands because he can’t hallucinate that, even if he can hallucinate his voice. John learning how to read Gale’s looks and touches, trying to figure out why he’s this way. Loving every second he holds and touches Gale but torn with grief because what if he never hears Gale’s voice again? And of course he’s convinced this is all his fault. Gale never wanted to risk escape and he never would have tried if John hadn’t gone crazy on the march and Gale only agreed to go to protect John.

Ok I’m not gonna word vomit all my ideas and emotions in response to yours but you get the idea! Yes you will be seeing a fic, hopefully soon 😭❤️

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Omg yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts on Part 2. As you saw, it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. 😅

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

LOL girl I don't blame you for being distracted. The mental image of Dean manhandling in Protective Mode does things to me too. 🤣

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅

You just wanna go:

Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships. Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

Oh my God, yeah. I considered having her be the one to face her "mistake" and talk to the mother, but I felt that having Sam take that on would be better, even as it added to the reader's guilt (and it would keep the story moving).

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

Lmaooo I knowww, I'm sorry! All the angsty feels in this one. 😭 Now you see the full weight of why Dean popped off the way he did. He just feels things so deeply, it comes out sometimes in anger, when at the root of it all, it's fear.

Thank you though for that compliment! I think this is the only time I've written that Dean trope. Because I honestly think it's overused, but I tried to do it in a way that made sense for the ultimate growth of their relationship and who Dean is.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

Thank you so much!! 🙏🏽🥹🥹 Yeah same, and it's definitely a contrast with Dean, who obviously cares about helping people and takes way too much responsibility on his shoulders, but he's been doing this so long and seen so much that he's learned to compartmentalize a bit more.

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Oh girl yesss! If you make it to the last two stories in the series, remember this moment. 😏💜

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless. And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Ahaha thank you so much!! I LOVE me some salsa music, and it was a fun challenge to try and transition between these scenes. From one writer to another, I always appreciate those "technical" observations. 💓💓💓

Oh big YEP!! "Devorame Otra Ves" was the first song I thought of when the salsa idea came. Dean, in fact, is that guy. 🤣🤣

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

LMAO Oh yeah, the gif was a dead giveaway for what was coming later on. 😏 And thank you for shouting out the “What, now you’re shy?” line! It's a special kind of intimate, I thought, for her to be kind of embarrassed about what she's just done, but Dean like, "uh-uh, you're not getting away that easily." 😂😂

Also I love you for using a Chicago Fire gif!! loll Was a big fan of that show back in the day.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

Awww thank you! I love me some fun giggly romantic smut. 😂

Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:

I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

Lol but seriously, I really appreciate that, thank you!! This story was definitely an emotional rollercoaster. I'm so glad you enjoyed it though!! 💕 ...And Sam's little mishap LOL. Dean has very little shame -- something he's going to prove later on again in the series. 😂

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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[gingacat]

Miyuu's relationship with the characters

the beef between Miyuu and Jamil 😭 (it mostly revolves around bugs... not joking, he is freaked out by how she's so passionately knowledgeable about huge ass exotic beetles or something, AND SHE LOVES TALKING ABOUT THEM!!)

you might be wondering... "why the hell does Ace have a crush on Miyuu?" well, yeah, she does seem to be hella boring (and he really hates that at first — he literally ghosted his ex bc she was boring 😭) but at some point he would realize that Miyuu is actually... crazy??? i mean... she's Yuu, she's constantly risking her life and saving ppl from their overblots and all.

as for Miyuu's crush on Kalim... she already took a liking for him at first bc he's so nice and friendly, and then she saw that he's not only generous and all, but he can be so oblivious and??? that's cute???? Miyuu just really adores and admires how Kalim can be so... well, pure. he's perfect in her eyes. (BUT DOES HE LIKE HER BACK THOUGH? sorry for one-sideing everything 😭)

also, as you can probably see... Miyuu has a tendency to immediately consider as her friends people who don't like her or care about her at first, something that happened with Idia, Leona, Jade and Epel. why does that happen? she probably saw them and didn't think much about it, she just liked their vibe (which is wild but ok) + there's also the fact she doesn't rlly care if someone hates her at all, she'll always be nice to everyone.

(now i'm thinking about Kalim x Miyuu and i think it would be so cute, help)

relationships template by @ai-kan1 !

and i made Miyuu's chibi with the help of these bases, by @twtysevapr !

[obsidianpen]

hello, yes, so i just finished reading hauntingly and i cannot believe that you made me… cry. not just my eyes watering — i mean some literal tears streaming down my face. i should’ve prefaced this by saying that reading a little life left me with dry eyes and no emotion coiling tight in my chest.

but this? i guess i really am a romantic at heart, and also a true masochist, because this story — of love, in all its forms, in all its glorious tragedy — truly moved me beyond words and spoke to my heart in a way few literary work ever could. to desire someone so deeply, to be willing to change your fundamental being, down to the very atoms whirring beneath your skin, to learn what love feels like and be tormented by its raw power over one’s mind and soul both…. i think it is all more staggering and profound and raw than so many other depictions of love.

and the tragedy of him — the sins for which he wants to repent, the person he loves coming as close to forgiveness as possible and wanting to help him through this process of redemption, of rebirth. he’s learned, he’s asked for help, he’s confronted his own demons, faced his subconscious and his darkest fears, because, yes, he wants to be able to love. for him.

and yet. despite it all, despite surpassing the condition of one’s own self, despite regretting and repenting and being forgiven — life knows no pity. it rarely grants second chances and this, this is the perfect example of no matter how much you try and right your wrongs, one skeleton too many will make the doors splinter and flood the room with the stench of too many mistakes past.

the ending was indeed bittersweet. and it was absolute perfection.

not now, but someday. not in this life, but certainly in another. but always, always you and i. finding each other, every time.

forever, tom and harry. harry and tom.

i am truly speechless. i am crying even as i’m writing this and i just… just feel my chest tighten when i think about their story. my heart is wrapped up in every emotion you’ve imbued into this fiction and if that doesn’t make a spectacular writer, then i don’t know what does.

thank you. truly. thank you for putting your art out into the world.

😭😭🥹🥹 thank you anon 🫶 I really poured my heart into hauntingly, even if when I look back and think the writing isn’t the best and that I should have done some things differently, it was and is still my favorite story!!! I’m so glad people are still finding it and having all the same feelings I know I did when I wrote it.

also. There will be a part 4

[decoy-sammy]

Starscream s making me feel things I'd very much rather not at 2 in the morninggg... DUDE HE DOESN'T APPEAR BACK FOR LIKE. WHAT WOULD BE I ASSUME 😃 2 WEEKS AFTER NEARLY DYING BY MEGATRONS HAND IN HOIST GOES HOLLYWOOD.

WAS HE. LIKE. IN HOOKS CARE DURING THAT TIME SINCE HE'S THE DOCTOR??👀 LIKE. KFKSMAKQLKWKWW AHHHHHHHHHHHH

AND OH BOY DO I LOVE ME A COMPETENT STARSCREAM BUT HE'S SUCH A WET CAT AT THE SAME TIME. HE'S SO FUCKING PATHETIC. AND HE WOULD HAVE WON IF NOT FOR MENOSAUR!!!!!!! HE LITERALLY GOT MEGATRON TO SUCCUMB(this word??) TO HIM.

THIS IS EXACTLY WHY HE'S THE COMMANDER OF THE SEEKERS.

NFNDNKAKAKWJDJDJJSAMMAKQKALQLS

I'M LITERALLY MELTING HELP.

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. HE SAW ME LOOKING AND DECIDED TO TAKE UP 3/5 OF MY BRAIN.😭😭

[hellenichu]

WELL THEY'RE GETTING ART FROM ME ^_^!!/silly!!

On that note, here are a few reasons why you should vote COPPER HUSBANDS!!

1. Because they're like, so silly. And so cool.

2. If it wins, @pastaracell (mastercheif) is going to eat a ghost pepper on camera(or so i heard 👀)

3. Like look at empires 2 scott. Just a guy and his llama best friend who is totally okay in the head. Adorable. And they bond.

4. I'd be so cool yknow?

5. Rat scott would be proud of you (yes thats my cosplay+rats copper husbands is so QPR to me)

6. Pirates scott and Owen mean everything to me and they should to you too. Just look at them. They're the guys.

7. Have i mentioned i did shitty doodles for them?

8. If they win i will do a month of daily doodles for them, even if my art tablet isnt fix yet.

9. If they win i will give them the bigger part of my birthday cake(yes they're on it idc whatever anyone thinks). Yes I'll put minecraft skins of owen and scott on my birthday cake. What will you do? Stop me?/lh

10. They’re made of copper and oxidise into a beautiful green colour and yknow what else is green? The world yes!! So click yes on the vote button for them!!

OH ALSO, MORE REASONS!!✨✨

1. Look at their platonic bestfriend dynamic in rats 1. When every time scott was scared he ran to Owen, where owen protected Scott from everyone who tried to hurt him. Where after scott was trapped by the janitor owen ran up and hugged him tightly.

2. Copper husbands beat snowbugs because of neurodivergency, you wouldn’t hurt my sopping neurodivergent wet cat would you???-pastaracell

3. Also another rats fact, look at how when Owen said he didn't like flowers cause they die, so Scott went out of his way to make him a flower out of copper, so it never could die.

4. They were in so many series together think of new life too where scott helped owen understand his origin and stuff.

5. WE WILL MAKE MORE ART

6. Look they're not that much of a rare pair but small enough considering flower ranchers and majorwood.

7. Everyone literally takes it out of context and say they're not ok with shipping when it's literally not even true. They just spoke out saying they're not comfortable being called that by default since they have no plan about being romantic, mainly on rats. But neither of them have a problem with shipping. Pls understand the difference here. Besides as long as the community keeps it tagged properly its fine, its just a ship?😭🙏

So yeah. Vote Copper husbands. Thanks guys. ^_^!!!!👍👍✨

(obviously no hate to the other person?? Duh?? Im just making my own silly reasoning tab🙏😭😭 love you all and stay safe out there mcyt community/pos/lh)

[imabillyami]

Im just like Sami and Jey are finding their strength to confront Roman to protect each other 😭. Jey was tense in that ring, but he got in Romans FACE demanding respect for his man. Sami literally marched into the lions den to demand an apology for Jey. Oh my god, I love their love.

I basically answered/ analyzed this frame-by-frame here (I may have called them each other's husbands and ride-or-dies and I didn't even touch that last segment. That hug? the protective arm around Sami's shoulder? the fingers digging into Sami's upper arm?).

Their body language is just gonna be the death of me, seriously.

I'm so happy they're truly standing up for each other and have each other's backs no matter what. Even if one of them needs to walk away from a situation, they'll still make sure the other is okay.

Sami DEMANDING that apology for Jey. Oh boy. I don't think I've ever seen anything more attractive.

And then Jey calling out Roman backstage and standing up to him and not letting him walk away.

Walking away to find Sami the second Roman dismissively tells him to, but not because Roman said so, but because that's what he would've done anyway.

These two are the definition of married.

I love their love too. So much 😭

[hawkeyeslaughter]

as much as i hate to admit it it’s probably a good thing henry wasn’t in the late seasons imagine you come to the office because ur trying not to kys and your colonel is on his seventh drink of liquor and it’s one in the afternoon

[dragon-gem]

I love the bonus 😂😭 imagine Jay finding it though hahahaha

-

Nya dug through the chest, smiling at all the old clothing and notebooks filled with drawings and stickers. “Look, Jay! The first few iterations of the Samurai X mech!”

Jay glanced up from where he was examining an old practice sword of hers, smiling at the designs drawn in the shaky hand of a 15-year-old. “Now that is a throwback. Who knew you still had all this old stuff in here?”

“As if you don’t have a similar trunk stuffed somewhere,” she teased, “I’m just actually showing you mine.”

“Point taken.” He pulled out another notebook, this one bright pink, sparkly, and completely covered in stickers. “What’s this?”

“I don’t remember.” Nya scooted back, peering at it thoughtfully before going back to the halfway empty chest. “I think Kai bought it for me. It’s probably empty.”

“Maybe.” Jay opened it up, his eyes going wide. “Oh wow.”

“What?”

Nya glanced over at him, her gaze flicking over the page.

It was covered in her signature. But not just any old signature.

Nya Walker.

Mrs. Nya Walker.

Mrs. Walker.

She blushed. “Ahh— see, you were never supposed to see that.”

Jay laughed, flipping through it. “Is this whole thing filled with this?”

“Most of it— okay, you don’t have to laugh like that! Give it back!”

“Hold on, Water Lily, I want to see how many times you wrote my last name—“

“Jay!” She reached for it, blushing so brightly her cheeks were burning. “Oh my FSM, this is so— you were literally never supposed to lay eyes on that—“

“How old were you?” Jay laughed again, finally letting her take the notebook. “Come on, tell me that at least.”

“Maybe fourteen?” Nya snapped it closed, her blush refusing to die down. I have never wished to have Kai’s powers as much as I do right now. “We hadn’t known each other that long, it was probably before the whole deal with the Overlord.”

Jay snickered. “I mean, you have to admit, Nya Walker has a nice ring to it…”

“I will kick you out of my room,” she threatened, waving the notebook, and all its damning evidence, at him threateningly.

“Point taken!” He put his hands in the air, still grinning widely. “Although you’re the one with ‘Nya Walker’ scribbled all over a notebook…”

“Jay!”

“What!? It’s cute! I mean, it’s not like I ever did anything similarly embarrassing…”

She gave him a flat look, tossing the book back into the chest. “Yeah right. So we’re lying to ourselves now? You were down so bad.”

“You’re one to talk! So were you, apparently!”

“The threat to kick you out of my room still stands, Mr. Walker.”

Jay saluted her, his smile still refusing to fade. “As you insist, Mrs. Walker. I will shut up now.”

“Good idea.” Nya shook her head, trying not to smile back at him. He was never ever supposed to see that, by the FSM.

Oh well, at least it could never be said she hadn’t been as cringy as him back then.

“If anyone else finds out about this, I swear…”

Jay laughed, picking up the old Samurai X specs and peering at it closely. “This one will stay between us. I promise.”

Little headcanon I have—

Nya, being a roughly 14 year old girl in season1 and crushing incredibly hard, definitely wrote stuff like “Mrs. Walker” “Nya Walker” “Mrs. Nya Walker” in a notebook.

Nya is allowed to be just as cringy as Jay in early jaya <3

Bonus: only time she ever wished to have Kai’s powers is a couple years later when she finds said notebook and immediately wants to burn it

[twinstxrs]

idk if this is accurate but i’ve felt like in previous seasons riz & gorgug have been one of the inter-bad kids dynamics we’ve seen the least of & this season has been so great in that aspect. gorgug having helped make some of riz’s magic gear. riz helping gorgug with his studies. the shared birthday party. gorgug’s gift to riz being something he himself made to protect riz. riz’s gift to gorgug being something he illegally grabbed to protect gorgug. gorgug who utilizes rage to put his body on the line for his friends & riz who will take deep levels of mental stress for his friends. even though it was within the context of a joke, riz calling gorgug an “absolute sweetie.” like yea they might not be in a band together or both part of a presidential campaign team or owlbears teammates, but they’d go to war for each other, because they’re best friends.