#it's a wonder he gets up every day and keeps going

[kismetlotts]

cw: angst, mentions of sex, best friend Simon Riley, mentions of knives, mentions of hurting yourself but no implications of actually doing so or having done in the past, mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol, clueless Simon Riley, crying in each others arms, helping out your best friend, reader is self less

part 2 of Best Friend Simon Riley Angst (I recommend reading part one first to understand certain elements better)

You woke up in the morning, daylight shining through your curtains and you already knew it wasn’t sunshine- bound to be nothing but grey clouds out there, flooding the sky like a polluted ocean. Your nose and head ached in the silent flood of last nights memories, your crying, your actions and worst of all, your best friend.

Oh Simon, what a dickhead you were. Why did you have to come here?

Your body flushed against the cold sheets behind you, a weightless bed, giving you the impression he’d done a runner. Typical him honestly- you wouldn’t be surprised if that was what initiated their breakup; the same breakup that was at fault for all of this.

He was always so forward, front and confrontational within the field. The notorious ‘Ghost’ that installs fear in every enemy he has to face. He’s a fighter at work but ironically, in life, all he knew was how to retreat. Pull away before he can cause anymore damage, pull out before the mess gets bigger.

You flung the covers off you, their pretty, pink, innocent pattern already making vomit surface in your throat. He’d flopped down on that bedding countless times in the past: memories which made it hurt more came to mind. The knives that were already jammed in your gut, heart and what’s seemed as your brain, twisting a little deeper before freezing up in place.

You remembered the times when his body would accidentally fling you around the mattress, grunting and smirking while he settle down and got comfy. You remembered the way his fingers tapped on the cotton as he leaned over to see what you were looking at on your phone. Nosy but never prying in too much.

Imagining how you looked when you watched his hand sweep across the duvet on movie night, pushing every crumb onto your bedroom floor with a laugh and an apology leaving his lips. His hands, shooting into the air as he surrendered in playful shame. Not really paying attention as your voice scolded him for eating in your bed.

Your fingers stripped the bedding from its covers. Tossing them into a pile on the floor beside your laundry basket, the sheets so stained with both of your sweat and dirt from the situation, your nose scrunched up at the sight. You left it there ready to put in the wash later.

Though, a part of you can’t help but wonder if they will ever feel as clean as they did before.

If they’ll ever give you the warm, comforting sensation you got every night before nodding off to sleep. Would you ever hear their soft cries to slip back in bed when you wake up early for work? The covers flopped back in agony, silently pleading for you to come back and have five more minutes?

No. Now they just feel like you never got out of that bed, the duvet still wrapped around your body keeping you hostage and forcing you to go about your day. The weight of everything on your shoulders enough for you to trip and fall on the material.

You’d burn them if they weren’t so big.

The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous, why the fuck did you let it happen anyway? The sex with him wasn’t anything like you’d wished or dreamed of nor would it have never been.

He didn’t love you but something inside you obviously can’t comprehend that. Every chance you get to show or pretend that the two of you were more than what you were- you’d leap for it: eyes sparkling with the same hope a lost kid has.

He used you last night and you let him like the pathetic, lovesick loser you always were. It wasn’t sex, it was nothing more than a mere distraction and waste of time. A waste of his time, more hassle just for him.

Your fingers wrapped around your smooth doorknob as you pushed open your bedroom door, trailing into the kitchen before an aroma of pancake batter and fresh baking gripped you by the throat. Your big eyes meeting Simons, his familiar, large figure pressed against your kitchen counter as he sucked on his bottom lip.

His face was pale and his brown pupils never left the plate of fucked up pancakes, left on a placemat on the table.

You laughed. You laughed because you couldn’t trust anything else to come out- You couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t break down crying, that you wouldn’t scream or hurt yourself in front of him, that you wouldn’t wince at this- idiotic gesture.

Was this an apology? Was this all you meant to him? A plate of sweet treats you’d have to force yourself to eat, to swallow down and help you forget everything bad that happened. Maybe, or perhaps it was pure coincidence it summed up his perspective of the night; perfectly.

“Did you make me pancakes?” The tremble and nerves in your voice was apparent and he nodded slowly, gesturing to the massive bag of groceries on the countertop.

“With berries and sugar on top. I’ve got some other things here though, chocolate- all kinds, some syrup and honey and other fruit in that bag if you want any. I just added berries because I know they’re your favourite.” He rambled on.

“When did I tell you that?” Your head turned to the side, twitching in uncertainty as you sat down in front of the plate. Eyes squinting as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“You said when we…-oh.”

That’s not her, Simon.

His hand lifted to his eyes, rubbing them to avoid looking anywhere. The rise and fall of his chest grew faster and you just knew how is heart felt, flooding with guilt and embarrassment at his own actions.

Staying mad at him was hard when you knew him so well. Mistakes get made and feeling get trampled on but he wasn’t a bad person. That’s why you fell for him all that time ago.

The knife in your hand cut through the pancakes like butter, your posture up straight and distant from the plate while your appetite warned you not to bite. Your eyes flickered over to Simon again, seeing his hands still firmly placed over his eyes, broad shoulders retracted inwards as his body jolted in silent cries. The metal rattled against the table as you put the knife down and jumped out of your chair.

“Simon don’t do this-“ You spoke comfortingly, lunging over towards his body. Your soft skin met with the roughness of his arm but before you could say another word he shoved your body away from him.

A voice you’d never heard before coming out loud and brute, as you took a step back from his harsh rejection.

“Can you just fuck off trying to make me feel better constantly- I know i’ve fucked up and I know i’ve upset you. Stop acting like everything is alright when it isn’t, you do this every time- i’m not a kid!” His fist clawed at his shirt. Pulling it away from his chest as if he wanted to rip his heart out to stop the torture he was suffering.

Spit flew from his mouth and his eyes looked red, sunken with despair. Your voice died in your mouth, tongue soaking up all your saliva and you tried to swallow.

He was lost. He ruined the thing he needed the most- fucked about and caused chaos with his lifeline. You were his saviour and always had been. He didn’t need for you to fix his relationship or his problems, he needed you to fix him. He didn’t sleep with you to use you intentionally, it was a drunken mistake and a shitty timing.

He inhaled through his mouth, his throat croaking as he gripped the counter for stabilisation. Face was locked down to the floor, glued and staring at his shoes on your kitchen floor.

The drops of his tears on the black leather of his boots and the drops on your tiles reminding him of how pathetic he was being. He was a man, he worked in the military. He had slept with people before, cheated, and ruined relationships but nothing hurt like this hurt. Nothing knocked him down so hard he was afraid to get back up, he was afraid to lose you. Simon was scared.

“I made a mistake and I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I can even do to make it up to you- fucking pancakes- it is stupid I should know better and I should know what to do but I-” The whiteness in his knuckles disappeared as he lessened his grip on the counter. Hands falling to his side as he broke down on the spot.

The hard armour he lived in unraveling like flimsy pieces of ribbon. His wet eyelashes hitting his cheeks as he wiped his nose and face on the back of his wrist.

“I can’t think. I can’t be me without you here and I don’t know what to do, please, i’m so sorry just please come back to me. I know i’ve lost a part of you and I will fight until the end of day to get it back, but for now just let me have the rest back. I need my best friend back.” His hands met your lower back as you flung your arms around his neck, your own eyes dripping with tears of outrage and hurt but above all you needed Simon too.

You sobbed silently into his shoulder as he held you close to him finally getting his breathing back to normal. You bit your lips shut and breathed slowly so he couldn’t feel your body shake for air. You didn’t want him to realise how much you were struggling in his arms- how lost and abused you felt. You didn’t want your emotions to worsen his because he had to come first.

He’d lost the love of his life and he needs someone to be strong for him, help him get on his own feet. Be beside him with wide arms and a welcoming face. It wasn’t him being selfish, it was something you had to understand Simon to understand.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before you hesitantly sat down and talked. It was a long talk hidden by cheap smiles and forced laughter but of course, he didn’t catch on. You let him speak, you gave him advice- hugged it out and as weeks passed by, the two of you were back to normality again.

He’d found a new girl quicker than you thought he wouldn’t, pretty girl and ironically she your figure and eye colour. The more you watched them interact the more they seemed to happy together, kissing, hugging, buying each other gifts. It felt just like how it was before.

Back to Simon and his lovesick best friend that will always be there for him even if he’s never there for her. Back to Simon and his awful dating life as he hops from one awful breakup to the next because they all are missing something.

All he wants, is girl with your hair colour. A girl with your eye colour and your smile. All he longs for is a girl that he can hold hands with but can also roll his eyes at when she teases him for being too cheesy. He wants a girl who can laugh and joke with him but still support him and by there for him in more ways than one. Not just a girlfriend but almost as if a best friend at the same time. That’s all he wants and asks the world for but for some reason she just isn’t out there for him.

And until he realises why he looks for you in every girl he meets. Until he steps back and opens his eyelids to everything right in front of him. She won’t ever be.

[leia-writes]

hi! i had a dream about this recently and was wondering if it would be anything you'd be interested in writing :)

it starts off with the reader and in-ho going through a really rough break up but they still have feelings for each other. right before the s2 games started, in-ho went to a bar and saw reader there and her job is to perform live music, so she sings about in-ho and their breakup, not realizing that he was actually there

Maybe You'll Be There

hwang in-ho | front man x reader

ao3 link

masterlist

song inspiration: maybe you'll be there by etta jones

note: thank you so much for your request!!

warnings: angst

“Get out.”

You glared through teary eyes at In-ho, who was standing in the middle of your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. He sighed and dropped his arms in frustration, a few petals and leaves falling to the floor.

“I said I was sorry. I really am.”

“How many times have I heard that? You’re a broken record at this point.” You turned away from him and began cleaning up your kitchen. It took everything in your power not to break down crying right then, but you were just so tired of doing this with him. 

“I know. I messed up again. I’m sorry. Please.”

You sighed, dropping a glass into the sink. It clattered noisily as you turned towards In-ho. “Please what? Please forgive you for the thousandth time? Please forget how you ignore me whenever something important happens for me? Please let you play with my emotions?”

He stood there silently, trying to mask the shame spreading across his face.

“Which one, In-ho?”

He clenched his jaw, looking away from you. He still wouldn’t say anything. With every passing second he was silent you could feel your heart breaking even more.

You scoffed. “That’s what I thought. Get out.”

He gave you one last look, tears starting to form in his eyes. You’d never seen him cry, never even close to it. You wanted so badly to run to him, but you had to be strong this time.

You watched him as he set your flowers down on the table and walked to your door. He looked at you once again. For a brief moment you hoped he would say something, anything to make it right again.

Instead, he left, closing the door behind him.

~~~

You cried in bed that entire night. It was supposed to be a good day - you had just performed a full-blown concert all by yourself for the first time ever. Even though you worked for a very dark and secretive organization, you always made it a priority to pursue your passion for music. As time went on, you started gaining a reputation for being an outstanding jazz singer, and you found yourself wanting to move on from your high-stress job and live a more normal life.

After winning the squid games you participated in a couple years earlier, you soon found yourself working for the same organization alongside In-ho. Despite his cold exterior, you got along well. You had been dating almost a year before you started running into problems.

In-ho worked as the Front Man for a while before you joined him. You had only been working with him for a couple years, and you didn’t really have the same connection to that place like In-ho had. You both went through something extremely traumatic by playing and winning the games, but it seemed to bond In-ho to that place when you couldn’t care less. In-ho seemed constantly tormented by his decisions, as if he didn’t want to be there but couldn’t help himself.

As you started becoming more popular, you didn’t feel the need to work for them anymore. You wanted to leave many times, but In-ho always convinced you to stay. He promised over and over that you two could make it work, splitting time between the island and your apartment. And he promised he’d be at every one of your performances.

A promise he was never able to keep.

There were so many nights like that night, where In-ho would show up late in the evening, well after your performance, begging for forgiveness and promising to be better. You’d cry in front of him, break his heart a little, fall for his sweet words, and then make up as if nothing happened. Then you’d have another upcoming performance that always happened to conflict with work, and fight endlessly about how you navigate your relationship. Repeating the same vicious cycle over and over.

You couldn’t stand to keep breaking your heart like this. The love you felt for him was undeniable, something you felt you’d never get over, but the pain was just too much. Tonight was your final straw.

The next day, you finally quit your job and started your new life.

~~~

In-ho waited outside the lounge, the cold, night air whipping across his face. His hands were awkwardly stuck in his pockets as he scanned the people around him, looking for her. He was reluctantly waiting to meet someone on a blind date, set up for him by an acquaintance.

He didn’t want to be there at all, but figured he needed to start putting himself out there. Or at least that’s what everyone else was trying to convince him to do. After looking around for another brief moment, he spotted her approaching him.

She was beautiful. But she wasn’t you.

Ever since your painful breakup, he was tormented by thoughts of you. He couldn’t help but remember you in the little things around him, even now a year later. It was a constant reminder of his failings, how he ruined one of the only things that was good for him and made him truly happy.

He knew he was pushing you away the more you wanted to quit. He knew he was hurting you every time he missed a performance, ignored a call, prioritized anything else over you. He knew you’d be better off without him and his baggage.

In fact, it seemed true. Ever since you had finally broken up, he saw you rise to a whole new level of fame. You were constantly putting on performances and releasing new music. He tried his best to ignore any news he heard about you, but in moments of weakness couldn’t help but look you up and try to get a glimpse into your new life.

She approached him with a smile and they entered the lounge together, sitting at a small, intimate table for two. The atmosphere couldn’t have been any more romantic - warm, low lights, candles and a rose on the table, drinks and conversation flowing with ease around them. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt, as if he was doing something wrong.

A waiter approached the table and took their drink order. Upon returning, he excitedly pointed to the currently empty stage.

“Are you here to see the show?”

They looked blankly at the waiter, and she asked who was performing. In-ho felt his blood run cold when he heard the waiter say your name.

You.

You were performing at the lounge tonight. 

He gave a polite smile as he internally screamed. “Oh, we’re just staying for a drink, so we’ll probably miss it, won't we?” He glanced at his date.

She scoffed. “What? Of course not, we can’t miss this! I didn’t even know she was playing tonight.”

The waiter smiled. “It’s a special one-night performance, just for us. This is where she had one of her first solo performances!”

The waiter and In-ho’s date chatted briefly as In-ho tuned out all the noise around him. The one night he tried to get you off his mind, he found his way into the one place in the entire city you’d be. He felt his heart rate quicken and his head start to spin.

Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts. “Are you a fan too? You seem the type,” his date asked.

He snapped out of it. “Oh, uh,” he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Yes, I am.”

She smiled. “Great! We can’t wait.”

The waiter smiled and left. In-ho and his date casually sipped their drinks while making small talk. His eyes would dart wildly near the stage, anticipating when you’d appear on stage, wondering if you’d be visible nearby. 

“Are you alright?”

In-ho brought his attention back to his date, who had a concerned look on her face. He smiled. “Oh. Yeah, sorry. Uh… just a bit nervous, I guess.”

She smiled and sighed, relieved. “Oh god, me too. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He laughed softly, but couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable feeling he had inside. He looked around, noticing how busy the place was getting as your performance was about to start. 

“Want another drink before the show starts?” he asked. The waiters were incredibly busy, and he needed an excuse to step away.

“Sure. Just the same. Thanks.”

He quickly got up and walked to the bar. It was filled with people getting their last minute orders in, but he took his time getting the attention of the bartender. Anything to delay having to go back to the table and put on a facade. How was he supposed to act once you began performing?

As he was waiting for the drinks, you arrived on stage. The entire place erupted with applause. In-ho wanted it all to not be real, just a dream he could wake up from at any moment. He wanted to look away from you, to keep his focus on the drinks he was supposed to be getting, but he couldn’t stop himself from turning to you.

It was as if all the air in his chest escaped at once. You were standing at the microphone looking like an angel. The lights had dimmed in the room, with a single spotlight illuminating your face. You scanned the room with a soft smile on your face.

“Wow. Thank you all for coming. I’ve never seen this place so packed!”

A quiet laughter sounded from the audience as you continued. “As some of you may know, this is the spot where I had my very first solo performance ever, almost a year ago now. I have so many memories in this place. Some good, some bad, but… that’s life, isn’t it?” 

You paused to take a deep breath. “Tonight I’ll be singing some of your favorites, some I even performed here that first night. And I even have a new special song I’ll be performing at the end for you. I hope you enjoy.” You smiled as the band started, the crowd applauding again.

In-ho stood still, frozen at the bar as you began singing. He immediately recognized your first song, remembering so vividly even now how you practiced it and played it for him over and over. He didn’t even notice when the bartender gave him his drinks.

Instead, he stayed there almost your entire concert, completely mesmerized by you. With the songs he recognized, it was like watching his memories in a movie in front of him, as if he was experiencing those feelings again just like before. And with your new songs, it was like getting to know someone he’d never met. He saw the parts of your life he had completely missed. It created a deep sense of loneliness and longing in his heart.

Before your last song, he finally became aware of himself and brought the drinks to his table. His date looked surprised.

“Oh. I thought you ditched me.” She scowled.

In-ho gave her an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. The drinks…”

“The drinks didn’t take that long.”

In-ho sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, I got distracted.”

She sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. “You know, it’s fine. I was warned you might be like this, anyways.”

He was taken aback for a second. “What?”

“Your friends, they all told me they basically forced you into this.”

He scoffed. He wanted to defend himself for a moment… but they were right. He stayed silent.

“I just thought you’d have better manners than this,” she said, rolling her eyes.

He wasn’t sure what to say. Before he could think of something, you spoke before your last song.

“I want to thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to have your support. Thanks to you, I’ve been able to make my dreams a reality. I’d like to thank you by playing a brand new song, just for you all. I wrote this recently, but it’s about what some of my life has been like this past year. 

“Like I said before, some good memories, and some bad. I wrote this to reflect on some of those bad memories, and hopefully let go of the pain with them. I’m sure some of you can relate, right?”

Many in the crowd nodded. “This one is called Maybe You’ll Be There. Thank you.”

As you began your song, In-ho’s blood slowly ran cold. He knew after the first verse you were talking about him. He studied your face as you sang, watching how your eyes would subtly flutter at particularly emotional moments. It was something most people wouldn’t pick up on, but he knew you. He still knew you so well.

Your voice filled the space with ease as you reached more intense moments, gracing the ears of the audience with your rich tone. Once you reached the last verse, a tear fell down your cheek in perfect timing. In-ho’s heart strained in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to run to you on that stage and wipe the tear from your face, and do anything to make you happy again, anything to make the two of you whole again, anything to heal the wound that festered over the last year.

He almost cried listening to the final words of your song, hearing how you wished he would come back. After everything you had gone through together, and all the time you spent apart, you still missed him. His heart broke - he didn’t deserve you, and you deserved so much better than him. And you said it yourself, that you hoped you could finally move on after releasing this song.

Although it pained him greatly, and forced him to defy the longing he felt in every fiber of his being, he knew you’d be better off without him. And so, after your performance ended, he politely excused himself from the date and went home. 

~~~

You entered your apartment later that night, pleasantly exhausted. It was late, but you were still buzzing with emotion. You hadn’t expected to become so emotional while performing your new song. It had been a long time since you cried on stage, but singing that song brought back so many painful memories that you couldn’t help yourself. Despite that, you were proud of having such a vulnerable moment become something beautiful.

You collapsed on your couch with a glass of wine, too tired to get changed just yet. The silence enveloped you. You remembered a year ago, the last time you saw In-ho in your apartment. The somber look he gave you as he left. The ensuing rush of tears and pain that you couldn’t keep in that night. 

And the painful ache of longing you’ve had ever since then.

You sighed deeply, finishing your glass of wine and willing yourself to stand up. Life goes on, you told yourself. You were well-acquainted with the act of ignoring your feelings and pressing forward. No matter how much you wanted In-ho to appear in front of you, it wasn’t going to happen. He never once tried to get you back in the entire past year. Maybe now you could finally let go.

As you walked to your bedroom, you heard a light knocking at your door. 

You stopped. Were you hearing things? The following silence was filled with tension.

You were about to dismiss the noise and continue walking when you heard it again, this time louder. Your heart was beating through your chest. 

Slowly, you walked to the door. Your heart leapt, as if you knew who was behind the door. You weren’t sure whether to cry, or get excited, or get angry. A flurry of emotions filled your mind as you grasped the door handle, turned it, and pulled the door open.

You froze at the man standing in front of you. His grief stricken face. Flowers in his hands. The way he breathed a sigh of relief. 

The way your heart breathed a sigh of relief.

In-ho.

[writingroom21]

Stepbro Rafe talking you through it

A/N: Finally feeling better and was so excited when I saw this! Got me in the writing mood so fast

“Rafe.” A moan slips past your lips. His eyes flick up to look at you. The sun casting a glow behind you causes him to squint his eyes from the intensity. He hums around your clit as he keeps sucking it. 

Today was a hot day in Outer Banks and Rafe thought it was a good idea to take out the boat. The idea was posed as a bonding activity for the two of you since your mom and his dad keep hounding you. They think that since the two of you are step-siblings that you need to get along. Well this probably isn’t how they imagined it but it was one hell of a way to do it.

The moment the boat was far enough that no one could see, he was on you. “They want us to get along. I think I got the perfect thing for us to do.” Your shorts were tossed aside and your bikini bottoms were pushed to the side. Even though you were reluctant, your thighs spread open for him. His tongue teased your folds before he dived in like a man starved. “Fuck baby, taste like heaven.” You let out a moan at his words, moving your hips. The friction from his tongue as you glide your hips to match his pace.

“If I had a last meal it would be this pretty pussy. Look at how she drools for me.” Rafe takes a moment to stare at your folds, catching the way you clench around nothing. His right hand moves up the inside of your thigh. Placing his thumb on your clit, he moves in soft circles. The barely there touch short circuits your brain. All of the worries of someone catching you dying down in the back of your brain. “Rafe, I.”

When your words are cut off with a moan Rafe laughs. He audibly laughs in your face as you can’t help but to moan. “It’s okay princess. Feels good right?” You can hear the ruffling of his pants as he pulls them down. Using his left hand he lazily jerks himself off as he fingers you. “Mmmm.” Light kisses are placed on your lower abdomen trailing all the way down to your clit again. The combination of his fingers and lips could be lethal.

“I can feel you squeezing the shit out of me.” He hissed as he pulled his fingers out again. Kneeling between your legs he replaces his fingers with his cock. Your walls flutter around him violently as he pushes his way in. Resting his forehead on your shoulder he takes a deep breath in trying not to cum. His thumb strokes your clit, building up the orgasim that keeps refusing to happen. “Just relax princess, let me take care of you.”

Slowly he thrusts into you. It’s a steady slow pace so you can feel every inch of him. The boat rocks with each movement. The sound of water splashing along the sides fills your ears as a tingle forms in your lower abdomen. “That’s it.” Rafe murmurs along your skin. His teeth sink into your skin as he holds back his moans. He wants to hear you, feel you, know that he’s the one who broke you. “Feel so fucking good. Your pussy keeps pulling me back in.” A loud moan comes from you.

A smile spreads across his face and he moves into your view so you can see. Holding your cheeks, he forces you to look at him. “Eyes on me princess. You like it when I use you right?” He uses his grip to nod your head as you moan. “I know you do. Like knowing that your stepbrother is the only one who could fuck you properly.” You clench hard around but still you teeter on the edge of an orgasim.

“I wonder what your mom would say seeing how much of a whore you are. Practically begging me to knock you up.” Your whole body goes numb as your orgasim racks through you. Moans keep falling from your lips as the pleasure feels never ending. “There you go. Did such a good job for me.” You wrap your arms around him as he keeps thrusting into you. Each thrust prolongs your orgasim until you are jelly in his arms.

“That’s it, relax. I got you.” His hand pushes some hair away from your face and he places a kiss on your forehead. “Fuck you feel so good. I’m about to cum.” A few more thrust and he’s pulling out. Ropes of his cum covers your skin and he massages it in. “Don’t worry next time, I’ll fill you up.” A finger soaked in cum makes its way back inside you. A small part of him is satisfied that he got you to break and now there’s a piece of him left behind.

Taglist : @rafedaddy01 @rrafeswhore @10ava01 @selfcontollover07 @akobx @starkeysbebe

[charmac]

Danny did a little interview for AARP Magazine in December. I haven't seen it copied anywhere past the paywall and I enjoyed reading it, so wanted to repost here

(Article is pasted as text below the cut)

Noisemaker I was born in Asbury Park, New Jersey. I was the baby, my sister Theresa was 10 years older, my sister Angie was 16 years older, my mom had two sisters, and none of them shut up, ever. It’s an Italian family, so the decibel level is out there. A little smart aleck I went to Our Lady of Mount Carmel School, because if your mother and father didn’t know what to do with you, they gave you to the nuns. … and still a smart aleck I remember when Peter, my nephew, was born. I was 7 years old, and I went over and looked into the bassinet, and the first thing he did was pee on me. It was great! I don’t think there’s a conversation I’ve had with the guy over all these years where I don’t bring up the fact that he peed on me. Also an old softie Do anything you can to keep on an even keel with your family and friends, no matter what happens in your life. That’s all we have. Don’t hide things. You’ve got to get up every day thinking about how you’re going to make it easier for the people that you’re working with or that you love or that you eat breakfast with. Because it’s infectious; everybody starts feeling good. Falling into the business Growing up, I’d spend the weekends at the movies, but I actually wasn’t even thinking about doing it. I got introduced to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in a roundabout way, took a couple classes, and I got the bug. And I thought, I’m not like Cary Grant, but I got a feel for this thing. So I studied, and then I went and started looking for jobs in New York, like every other actor does. I didn’t care what the description was—“male, 6 foot 4, 250 pounds”—I’d go out for the audition. Once I got in the room, I’m going to do what I’m going to do. Becoming Louie I wanted that part, Louie DePalma [in Taxi]. I walked into the room to audition in front of the four guys who created it, and I said, “One thing I want to know before we start. Who wrote this shit?” And I threw the script on the table. And I had a nanosecond of, did I screw everything up? Then they fell on the floor. Louie walked into their lives. Sudden fame I went to the market the day after the first episode aired, and people are stopping me on the street: “Hey, Louie!” They weren’t calling me Danny. After a couple of days of this, I called my publicist, and said, “This is really crazy. People are chasing me down the street.” He says, “Danny, you don’t have to worry until that stops happening.” Now it’s all, “Frank, Frank, Frank!” because of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, which is good. The fans are all you have. Still evolving I think I’m bolder than I’ve ever been—I don’t monitor myself as much. I do say things that are, like, pretty far out, that are really weird, and sometimes I’m inappropriate. But I am always respectful, and that’s because of my two sisters, I swear to God. You have to respect other people’s space.

My happy place Since my two grandbabies have been born, I am just in- corrigible. You gotta tamp me down in the joy department, you know what I’m saying? I’m just so lucky. Blessings have been showered down on me. I wish that for everybody.And the thing is to be aware of it. Don’t let it go. Rhea [Perlman, DeVito’s wife, from whom he is separated but with whom he still spends a lot of time] and I were always able to see those little, incremental changes when our kids were growing up. And I tell my kids that, with their babies: Don’t miss a thing, don’t look away. A sudden case of holidays I’m in the movie A Sudden Case of Christmas with my daughter Lucy, who plays my daughter. It’s just a real warm, wonderful movie, and I loved doing it. As far as the actual holidays go, we have family dinners. Basically we’re Italian, so you know, anybody who’s around, we grab. We get to celebrate all the holidays, because Rhea’s parents were Jewish, so we did all the Jewish holidays, and we do all the Catholic holidays or Italian holidays. My mantra It’s always a good thing to be positive about life, and always get out of bed thinking today’s the day you’re really going to kick its ass. That’s the way to do it

[georgiapeach30513]

How I'm Looking At You, Part 7

Summary: It's time to raise a barn

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, degradation, sex in public, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.8K

Previous

Series Masterlist

Your eyes roam over the tall expanse of the man in front of you.  No day has ever made it clear just how different Ari is to the Amish men than today.  You’d always fancied the men in your community as strong, hefty men that built their bodies just from daily work.  

But Ari Levinson.  

Ari was built by something celestial.  Every cord of his muscles were sculpted by God, himself.  Rippling and sweaty, and just want you want to curl up with at the end of every day.  Have his arms pull you in close, and keep you right with him. 

Barn raisings are nothing new to the community.  But that man, your man, barking out orders to the Amish men that weren’t pulling their weight is entirely new.  Thankfully you can blame your heated skin on the summer sun because your warmth spreads from your core all the way to the tips of your toes.  You stop mid-walk to watch him roll up his sleeves, and wipe his brow.  Watching as he pants, leaning over with his hands on his knees as he glares at the men that are less than him. 

“Don’t you work for him?” Ruth saddles up beside you, staring at what’s yours.  You didn’t wonder if he was yours, he is.  Plain and simple, that man belongs to you, and one day he was going to claim you in a more traditional sense.  

“I do,” you answer.  Your voice cracks, and she turns to look at you.  Her eyes narrowing at you.  “He’s quite sufficient.” 

Ruth recently got married.  Several years younger than yourself.  She’s not a prude to the ways of women and men being alone together.  Not like the much younger girls who just wanted to provide children for their husbands.  “Your parents allow you to be alone with him?” 

“I’m not alone.  There’s three men that work for him,” but you and Ari have the house to yourself.  You didn’t care to talk about all the ways that Ari had tasted you.  It wasn’t any of Ruth’s business. 

“Four men, and you,” she hums, clicking her tongue.  It runs all over your nerves.  She’s annoying.  You bet that she didn’t even know what coming was.  You doubt that her husband would have his tongue inside of her like Ari’s has been in yours.  Doubtful that she was able to soak her husband because he knows exactly how to reach inside of you, and pull out an orgasm that is otherworldly.  Did she even know what an orgasm was? 

“I guess your parents are used to disappointment.” 

“I guess you are as well,” she furrows her brows.  Her icy stare looks your body up and down as she glares at you.  You know she feels disappointment every time her husband pumps twice inside of her before he’s crawling off, and she hasn’t finished. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Hmm, maybe you should ask your husband about his activities with the boys,” her husband, Samuel, may not work for Ari, but he is friends with Jacob.  No doubt the town harlot has entertained him as well.  They probably have gatherings of claiming to pleasure her, when all they succeed in doing is getting their dicks wet.  Ari calls that little dick attitude.  

“Do you think you’re too good for an Amish man?” Now that’s a funny thing to say to you.  “You were courted…”

“Attempted,” you remind her.  Her tongue clicks in her mouth.  It isn’t bragging.  You weren’t interested in any of them.  

“Just how many men came to your door wanting to court you?” 

She’s a nasty piece of work, and pissing you off.  You want to shut her up, and walk away.  That way you can spend your time in the now raised barn, with the music.  “A lot more than you had.  Was it just the one?” She glares at you.  “Must be miserable to know you were number two.” 

Holding your nose in the air, you turn and walk away from her.  That was surely a sin.  And should she mention it to anyone, you could be punished for that.  Men want what they can’t have.  You weren’t up for sale, like so many of the women here are, and the men in the community knew that, and wanted you more because of it.  

You are you.  You didn’t want an Amish man then, and you definitely don’t want one now.  Your father is a rare breed that cares more for your happiness than the expansion of his family.  You’re thankful for that.  

You hate it here.  Each day that passes, you’re reminded more and more of just how much you hate it.  The judgemental stares of the women, and worse, the hungry stares of their men.  It’s like the people in your age bracket know the secret that you and Ari have been keeping.  Feeling as if you’re carrying the pleasure he gives you like a badge that everyone can see.  

You also notice the way too young gaggle of girls, twittering and pointing at Ari.  At what is yours.  He is yours.  He is all yours.  Every ounce of his tanned body is yours.  Every freckle that is sprayed across his chiseled face.  You shouldn’t feel jealous, but seeing everyone noticing Ari makes you want to take him down to the ground and kiss him.  Ferally claiming him, so they quit gawking at him.  You yearn even more for him.  

You go to a table, and retrieve a lemonade.  Trying to keep your eyes on Ari as he steps up to your parents.  He smiles, extending a hand for your father to shake, and your heart swells with pride.  He’s being as cordial and Amish as he can be.  Smiling at the right times to your mother, and she beams at him.  His charm captivating them both.

And then he nods his head, flicking his hat as he makes an immediate step towards you.  “Your parents have given me permission to dance with you for the rest of the day,” if he shows himself dancing, there will be others that will try to get his attention.  They won’t enjoy you taking up all of Ari’s time, and all Ari cares about is taking all of your time. 

Being here is showing everyone in this fucking community that you are spoken for.  That when you disappear, you hope that they realize that you are with him.  And he is going to take the best care of you.  He wasn’t going to hide you away from the world, while you dreamed of a life that wasn’t here.  No.  He’s going to give you the world.  You didn’t even realize just how much Ari is worth.  And you didn’t care.  

He spins you around the barn.  His smile reaches all the way to his eyes as the two of you dance around.  Feeling every bit of the princess in your books as he shows you off.  Faces and voices smear together, and you only see Ari, and feel him as you revel in the fact that you are openly with him.  For the first time truly being able to be with him, while every female in this community stares enviously at how much Ari is into you.  

Reaching behind your back, you reposition his arm, “You’re getting too low,” you remind him.  He rolls his eyes, pulling you even closer to him, “Careful.  There is a bit of acceptable behavior.  And everyone is watching us.” 

“Let them,” of course he didn’t care what anyone said.  Deep down he understands the precarious dynamic you have with your community.  You didn’t agree with their methods either, but you still live here.  You still have their rules to follow.  Out there, people wouldn’t even care if he captured your lips with his as he slows down to just swaying to the rhythm.  Kissing you like his life depended on it.  

But this isn’t normal, and he won’t have you leave your community labeled a whore because you dare to fall in love.  Yes, he can say it, he’s falling.  Finally giving himself the time to fall.  But you weren’t like any of the women he’s dated or fucked.  You are someone special entirely.  

“I think I need a drink,” You breathlessly tell him.  He wishes he was the one that made you sound so exhausted.  Not because of dancing either.  He wishes that the movement of his body is the reason that you sound like that.  “Would you like something?” He shakes his head no, watching you carefully as you retreat.

Leaving his side should not have been an open invitation to other women to ask for a dance, and yet it is.  You glare at them surrounding Ari.  Giggling.  They always giggle when a man they fancy is in their midst.  But the touching — that is what infuriates you.  Those are your arms to touch, and you don’t care much for sharing him.  

Not spinning around gives you the ability to listen in on the gossip, and the men don’t like their daughters, sisters, and even wives touching Ari either.  You hear one mentioning that they were going to have to put their wife in her place.  Smiling and winking at his friend.  Gross.  You doubt that the men here possessed the ability to treat a woman the way that Ari treats you.  Nor do you enjoy hearing about it.  

The only one you want to hear disgusting things from is the man that is politely refusing a dance over and over again.  None of the women have ever seen a man quite like him.  But you don’t like them touching him.  Looking at him the way they are.  They look like rats digging through a dumpster.  They’re disgusting, and going after — while he’s touched you, you’ve never so much as touched him.  Not like the books have said.  

Your mind reels with the crazy jealousy that is building up in you.  A rage settles into your stomach because he is yours.  Nobody else’s.  They don’t deserve him.  

Hmm, you set down your glass, and spin away from Ari.  Walking out of the barn.  He’s kept his eyes on you the entire time, and when he sees you leave, and not head back to save him from the fucking giggles, it frustrates him.  “Can you excuse me,” he says, barging past their onslaught of attempts to keep him to stay.

This is dangerous territory.  Leaving the confines of chaperones to follow you outside, and alone.  It doesn’t sound too bad.  For him.  But he dares any asshole to make a smart ass comment about you with him.  His strides are long, and with so much purpose as he seeks you out.  And finds you off by a shed, leaning up against the building with your arms crossed over your chest before walking to the opposite side, and blocking the gathering from you.

He rounds the corner, making a show of his eyes looking over your body in this stupid dress, “I didn’t want their attention,” he says, stopping too far away from you.  You turn your head to the side, looking up at the sky.  “I see.  So you ran away from me because of your jealousy.” 

“I’m not jealous!” 

“No, why would you be jealous?  There’s nobody here that I want to taste besides you,” he says, stepping closer.  He holds onto your chin, and lets his thumb paint over your mouth.

“You say such things.” 

“And what?  They bother you?” You’re not entertaining that thought.  He sighs, but his mouth turns up into a cruel smile, “No, words don’t bother you, do they, Darling?  You wouldn’t mind me telling you that from the moment I arrived all I have thought about was pushing you to your knees, and watching you gag on my cock.” 

“And yet, you’ve never done that,” his brow cocks up, and his smile is sinister as his eyes roam over your hidden curves.  “Instead, you’d claim me in almost every way that a man can claim a woman apart from shoving your cock in my pussy, and coming inside of me,” he clears his throat, watching you.  “But I have never claimed you.” 

Ari pushes his thumb into your mouth, and you circle your lips around him, sucking on the appendage.  Looking up at him so innocently, and he knows you’re anything but innocent. 

“Get on your knees,” he grunts out, and you stare at him shocked.  “I didn’t stutter, Darling, get on your knees,” you still make no movement.  The easiest way for him to figure out where your mind is at is to pay attention to the current book in your rotation, and the current one has a lot of dirty talk.  He is sure that you’re leaving them laying around to where he can pick it up, and see just what filth you’re reading at the time.  “Darling, get on your fucking knees, and take out my cock.” 

Ari crowds you on the side of the shed.  He lays his hand above your head as he leans in closer.  His nose caresses the side of your neck as he inhales your scent.  He rolls his hips into your body, and you yip at the feeling of his warm and throbbing bulge on you.  “Do you even know the things that you do to me?  The ways that I have to come up with to not get hard in front of everyone?  You are a drug to me, and I can’t get enough of you.” 

“Will you fuck me?” Oh your pretty little pout will get you everything that you want.  But he isn’t fucking you for the first time here.  It would be too quick, and he wants you to be able to moan, whimper, and scream out of him.  But he will let you get on your damn knees, so he can fuck your pretty little mouth.  

“Oh, I will enjoy fucking you, and coming right in here,” he taps over your mound, and his smile spreads wider on his features.  “Oh, sweetheart, you’re so hot and bothered right now, baby.  Does thinking about the ways I will claim you turn you on that much?” You pout up at him again, nodding your head.  

“Well, how about I come in here,” his thumb caresses over your lips, and he adds pressure, pushing past the velvet petals.  “Let me fill this pretty mouth full of my cum, and watch you swallow every drop.  Or would you prefer me coming on your tits, and cover them back up, while we walk back to the barn.  Our little secret of you covered in me.  But even knowing I’m in your belly is enough for me.  These boys here can never make you feel as good as I make you feel, huh?” 

“Ari, I wanna suck your dick,” you whimper, starting to sink to your knees.  You undo the safety pins on your dress, and pull the dress apart.  Letting each arm come out the top before your tits are revealed.  He gives each nipple a hard pinch, and flashes his eyes towards his pants. 

“Take me, Darling,” he could just about blow his load from staring at you alone.  The ultimate curiosity.  You’re so timid as you rub your hands over his outline.  Bashfully going to his button, and you undo him.  “Oh, there’s a good girl.  Discover my cock,” you gulp.  Your eyes flicking between Ari, and the present you’re allowed to unwrap. 

“Darling,” you gaze up at him.  Your eyes wide, and pupils deep pools of lustful questions.  “Baby, you do whatever you want.  You won’t be wrong,” Ari’s thumb traces over your lips again, and you choose to suck the appendage into your mouth yourself.  Sucking on his finger while his mouth gapes open.  “Enjoy yourself,” he whispers, pulling his thumb out.

You don’t know how that changes anything, and yet it does.  You want to discover him, and feel him.  Feel his pleasure radiating from his cock and into your mouth.  “Not that I want to speed this up, but just remember I have you on your knees with your tits out when your entire community is partying it up in a barn.” 

“I’d prefer you mounting me,” you feign confidence as you reach your hand into his pants.  Whimpering as your fingers circle around his cock.  He’s pulsing.  Hot.  Heavy in your grip.  You aren’t sure how you’re going to fit him in you, but you’ll be damned if anyone else ever tries again.  Bringing his length up to the surface you smile up at him.  “It’s pretty.” 

He’s gorgeous as he beams down at you with so much pride.  You give his leaking tip a kiss, and moan at his taste.  This is what a man tastes like.  Musky.  It is all Ari, and you want to commit this scent and taste to your memory.  You’ll never get this chance again.  Your lips learn his curves as you kiss up and down his member.  Flattening your tongue, and following the throbbing on his cock.  

“God, you’re so beautiful,” his voice is broken as he tries not to explode all over your face.  You’d look gorgeous painted in his cum.  You’d look gorgeous on your back while he pumps you full of cum.  His mind is racing in all the ways he sees you with his cock.  Your sweet little smile up at him as you grip the base of his length has him nearly losing control. 

“Like this, Darling,” he groans, wrapping his hand around your own.  “Grip me tight.  Oh fuck yeah,” he moans as you copy him.  “Take me in your mouth,” you turn around, looking behind you before gazing up at him.  Listening to the distant revelry of your community.  Deciding you and Ari are truly alone before taking a deep breath.  

“Eyes on me,” you stare up at Ari through your lashes, and open your mouth wide.  As wide as you can make it before you let his spongy tip push past your lips, and you close your mouth around him.  Giving him a hard suck before you take more of him.  He fills your mouth so much your cheeks have a delightful sting that you become addicted to.

“Holy shit,” Ari moans.  Mouth falling open as he stares at you.  You want to make him proud, so you don’t stop until you're gagging at him touching the back of your throat, and your eyes fill with tears.  Gazing up at him with so much innocence, and yet you have his cock pushed all the way back in your throat, “Good god,” his voice is silk, while your lungs scream for air that you don’t want to give them.  

“You better breathe,” he says before you pull yourself off him.  Oxygen fills you up so quickly that it stings.  Burns so much, but the way that he is gazing at you makes you crave more.  So you inhale his cock, and start bobbing on him.  Eyes staying on him as you hollow out your cheeks.  

Listening to the books, you twist your hand, fisting him in sync with your movements, and his sounds — the sounds he makes sends slick pooling to your core.  Drool drips down his shaft, and you use it to lube up your hand and squeeze tighter.  He chirps.  Squeaking out some odd noise of pleasure, and you go harder.  

“Fuck.  Me,” he pants out.  Ari’s pants fall to the ground, and with your free hand, you cup his balls.  Fondling him gently, and you smile over his cock.  “Yeah.  Just like that.  You’re my fucking slut aren’t you?” 

“Mhmm,” you gurgle, and start bobbing on him faster.  You would be whatever Ari wanted you to be.  Just as long as you can have him just like this.  

“Such a pretty fucking cock slut.  I’m going to have you so stretched and full of me.  Going to have your cunt molded to my cock.  Fill you up with cum, until,” your movement stutters a moment as you stare up at him.  Nothing is moving, and you nod.  “You want me to fuck a baby in your belly?” 

It sounds magical, and yet you’re not fully sure.  It’s too soon because you just want Ari to show you all the ways that he can make you come.  You want him to devour you and destroy you.  But eventually, you want his baby in your belly. 

“Breeding kink does not mean we have to have a child.  It just means you are just a cum dumpster.  You always want me to fill you up,” yep.  You move over him again.  You weren’t ready for a baby, but the idea of Ari keeping you filled with him, you love.  Being able to feel his warmth seep out of you while you walk around still playing the innocent Amish woman.  

The idea of walking around filled with Ari makes your head spin.  Walking out onto the porch with those stupid boys working, knowing that Ari was fucking you senseless, and left you with a piece of him inside of you.  There’s something primal about having him inside of you.  He feels it, too.  “You were born to be filled with my seed,” he grunts as his hands grab the back of your head. 

“I’ll make you walk home with me dripping — FUCK!” he screeches, and you feel his balls tighten.  “I’ll be dripping down your leg,” yes.  Yes.  You want him all over you, and as deep as he can go.  “Claimed.  Filled.  With.  Me,” he growls, and makes the prettiest sound as his head tilts back, and he stares up to the heavens.  He explodes into your mouth, and you whimper at the fullness of him.  You suck down as much as possible.  Slurping as you swallow, but a bit dribbles out your mouth, and he sighs.

Ari’s eyes stay on the mess as it drips from your chin to your exposed tits, and he yanks you up to him.  Desperately he paws at your dress, rucking it up, and lifts up one of your legs.  Too quickly his hand goes between your thighs, moves aside your panties, and he sinks two thick fingers into your warmth.  Pushing them in and out of you like a mad man, while your body starts to go limp.

Ari holds you tighter to him as he fingers you.  “Ari,” you’re so weak.  Your body is overstimulated with everything.  The taste of him.  The soreness in your throat.  The sensitive nub that Ari is playing with.  “Ari!” 

“Shh, you better keep your cock sucking mouth quiet.  I’d hate for someone to see you stretched over my fingers,” your slickness drips down into his hand, and he moans at your wetness, “I’d just go ahead and let them see your cunt filled with my cock.  Let them hear your words when I split you open for the first time,” his words.  The way they make you feel so dirty, and still adored at the same time.  Ari would.  He would not care for people to see him fuck you.  You can’t even be sure that you would care.  

That’s the space you're in right now.  You don’t care.  All that matters is him.  Ari.  And the way that he is pounding into.  The way that he slams your mouth against his.  Kissing you, while he swallows your sounds.  Needing you to writhe with pleasure more quietly.  But your pussy is noisy.  Squelching loudly, and your feet lose purchase, and you start slipping as pleasure encapsulates your body.  

His arm wraps around you tighter.  Holding you up as you succumb to your orgasm, and you scream into his mouth.  Pulling your mouth off his as your chest heaves.  “You’re so fucking pretty when you come,” you only feel pretty with him.  

“I’m going to squat down, and clean you up with my tongue.” 

“Ari, no,” you whisper, but he sinks anyway.  Slinging your dress over his head, and his tongue flattens on your split.  His hands move up to your tits where he tweaks your nipples.  His laugh rumbles on your sex when you start grinding on him.  “Ari,” nobody has ever said his name the way you do.  The ability to sound so desperate, and needy.  Nor has he wanted to hear his name come from anyone the way he does you. 

“Ari, I’m going to come again.” 

“I wish you would,” he chuckles again.  Slurping up your honey.  He kitten licks your clit before his lips suck the little nub into his mouth, and you press your hands onto the shed.  Biting on your lips as he sucks you.  His hand fucks into your body again, and you start convulsing.  It’s wrong to think of such, but he is a god with his mouth.  And you lose all sense of where you are as you come undone again.  

“Thatta girl,” Ari says on your core.  He takes his hand under your dress where he spreads your velvety lips apart.  “You seriously have one of the prettiest pussies I have ever seen.” 

“That’s enough,” you groan, and waddle off him.  He sure is proud of himself sitting on the ground, and you angrily pull your top back on.

“Why’re you in such a rush to get dressed?” 

“Why are you in such a mood to talk about someone else’s pussy?” 

“Mmm,” he’s got to make a note to stop doing that.  You have a jealousy issue, regardless of whatever you say.  “What if I called one of my friends, and…” he growls.  The idea of you fucking anyone but him pisses him off.  You don’t belong to any other loser.  You belong to him.  

“Can’t even say it, hmm?” What the fuck are you even talking about.  “You don’t like the idea of me on my knees, while one of your friends fucks into me,” no.  He hates that idea.  “You don’t like thinking about someone coming inside me.” 

“That’s enough,” you laugh, reaching into his pocket for a safety pin as you start to do up your dress.  “What’s so funny?” 

“I’m not the only one jealous here, Ari.  I don’t want another man, but I would appreciate it if you quit reminding me of the fact that you have had other women,” do you feel the way he does when he thinks about another man having you?  Do you really feel this anger thinking about anyone touching him?  Feeling him?  Pulling sounds out from him?  

Because the idea that anyone could even just see you the way he does makes him angry.  It makes his skin crawl, and he wants to scream, “Ari, you’re jealous.” 

“I’m not jealous,” jealous isn’t exactly the word because you haven’t had a man.  “I’m possessive.  And you belong to me.” 

“I like that word.  Possessive.” 

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?” Smirking, you shrug.  You liked Ari being possessive.  Couldn’t wait for him to own you.  

“We should really get back to the party before people realize that we’ve been missing,” you’re right.  He really shouldn’t push with you too much.  This could go so wrong for you.  He didn’t want a dramatic exit, but something like getting caught sucking his cock, would do just that.  You’d be shunned.  Labeled as a whore because you dare to do something that is natural.  He didn’t trust these little boys in men’s bodies here.  Didn’t like it at all.  

It’s still not the harvest season, so he has to wait.  

“I think we should go on a proper date,” he hums, and your fingers tickle along on his own before he weaves his fingers in yours.  Holding you like this, even though it is simple, makes him swell with pride.  You belong with him, “I think we should leave the house real early.  Leave little man in charge.  Ride out of here.  Have a dress for you to wear.  Take you dancing.  Maybe dinner on a boat.  I don’t know, whatever you wanted.” 

“You’re the expert.  And yes, I will go on a date with you.  And I think  I would like to stay out later than I’m supposed to,” glimpsing the community in the distance, you drop his hand, and run up ahead.  “It’s up to you.” 

“You little minx,” he says under his breath as you walk back into the crowd.  He’ll spend the rest of the night watching you, and asking you to dance.  Let everyone here get a look at just how happy the two of you make each other.  Nothing fake, but real.  The most real thing he has ever felt.  You hope they are all envious of just how he makes you feel, but also, how he’s going to drop to his knees and make you happy.  And he will.  He’ll risk it all.  Because you are worth every bit of it. 

You’re everything.  And that’s exactly how you make him feel. 

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Masterlist

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[larluce]

First I wanted to say hello and tell you that I love your works. They really have me on the edge of my seat every time I read them.

Second. Can you imagine that Merlin, in some new alternative universe, for some reason, upon arriving in Camelot, arrives with a baby? It's all still a Merthur ending, it should be noted.

Like, we know that Merlin was already a bit of an outcast in the village for the reason that nobody knew who his father was and even more so because strange things were always happening around him.

The situation gets much worse when he finds a crying baby in the middle of a burnt tent near the village.

Will and his mother try to help him for a while, but with the visits of the evildoers to the village becoming more and more frequent, Merlin and the baby have no choice but to go to Camelot.

And so the adventures begin!

Only now Arthur wonders if they can make crowns for babies, because he is willing to marry Merlin and legally adopt the baby as his own.

And Morgana… well, she and Gwen enjoy dressing up the baby in all the clothes from her old dolls. Not to mention that she notices that by taking naps with the baby she no longer has nightmares.

The knights become, in some way or another, glorified nannies. The servants and maids must chase after a baby who never stops causing mischief in the castle.

And Merlin just wants to survive colic season and potty train his baby… and everything would be easier if there weren't a murderer or a resentful wizard trying to kill Arthur every 3 minutes.

First, thank you so much for the compliments! 🥹🤧❤️

About the concept. I love it! I don't think going to Camelot to live would be Merlin or Hunith's first option for a baby that can't control their magic at all. So I firmly believe Hunith would send Merlin with the baby there so Gaius can take them to a druid camp so they could take refuge there.

The problem is, before Gaius can do so, Merlin is made the prince's personal manservant. Merlin can't exactly deny the king and he does need the money to take care of his baby so he decides to stay to Gaius dismay. Gaius and Merlin try to keep the baby hided at first so they take turns taking care of her (in my mind is a her) in Gaius' tower in secret. It works out for some weeks but then the plague (Nimueh's Afanc) happens and Arthur searches Gaius' tower.

Arthur: (enters Merlin's room) Merlin: (running inside) Arthur, wait! Baby: (sitting on the bed, looks up at Arthur and gives a cute giggle) Arthur: (Turns to Merlin slowly) Merlin? Merlin: Yeah? 😅 Arthur: Why is there a baby in your bed? Merlin: (in panic, shouts the first thing that comes to his mind) She is mine! Arthur: ... Arthur: What? 😧 Merlin: (repeats more quietly but more firmly) She is mine. (runs to hold her up and embraces her) She is my daugther. Arthur: (thinking) But... but he is so young. (says) Where's the mother? Merlin: (with pain as he remembers the burnt tent) She passed away. Arthur: (his heart hurting for Merlin) I'm so sorry. But Gods Merlin, why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have given you so many chores if I knew... (thinking) And I almost sacked you. I almost sacked a single father with a baby in arms! (says) And why the hell are you hiding her? Merlin: I... wasn't sure if I could keep her. Arthur: Of course you can keep her! What kind of master do you think I am? Knight x: (from outside) Sire? Arthur: (shouts back) In a minute! (to Merlin) What's her name? Merlin: Brigitta. Arthur: (repeats softly and smiles) Brigitta.

From then on, Arthur doesn't give Merlin as many chores and raises his salary considerably. And then everybody else finds out about Briggitta and go "I've only met Brigitta for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself".

Some events would change, obviously, and some would remain the same but with a new perspective. I don't think Merlin would have time to make Lancelot a fake seal, for example, having to look after Brigitta and all. I can imagine Lancelot becoming Brigitta's first unnofficial babysiter, then Arthur makes it official so poor Lancelot has a salary and a place to stay in Camelot. The Poisoned Chalice episode would remain the same, except Arthur would be more in panic mode and desperate because MERLIN HAS A DAUGHTER! BRIGITTA CAN'T LOSE HER FATHER TOO!

I think it would be The Beginning of the End where Arthur and Morgana find out about Brigitta's magic and Merlin's magic. Not because they discovered her, surprisingly, but Merlin decided to tell them all the truth about her and himself after seeing how they saved Mordred. Also, since Merlin saw Brigitta's possible future in Mordred, he wants to leave Camelot too to keep her safe. Screw all what the dragon told him about destiny, his daugther comes first.

So Merlin and Brigitta are about to leave with Mordred with the druids. They are having a heartfelt goodbye with Arthur, who scorted them there, but then...

Brigitta: (cries very loudly in Merlin's arms and the earth starts shaking a bit) Merlin: I know, I know, baby, but we have to go. Brigitta: (cries more loudly and extends her little arms to Arthur) Arthur: (barely containing his tears) I'll miss you too, Biddy. But this is the best for you- Brigitta: ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (open his eyes wide) What did she just said? Brigitta: (still crying and making grabby hands at him) ATHU, ATHU, ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (tears roll down his eyes) She said my name... Merlin, she said my name! (grinning widely) Let me hold her one more time, please! Merlin: (gives Brigitta to Arthur) Druid leader: (urgently) We need to leave now! Merlin: (looking at Arthur and Brigitta tenderly and smiles) Leave, we'll stay.

I also can imagine Nimueh going after Brigitta's life instead of Hunith, and having to confront not only a very furious Merlin, but a feral protective prince.

That's how far my imagination can go. If you have any ideas of how Merlin and Arthur or other character would act in other episodes now with Brigitta in the equation, share it in the comments or reblogs. I'll be happy to read you 🥰

[ayawriteshsr]

Hi! It's okay if I ask you for Jing Yuan x fem reader, friends to lovers? Like they knew each other from their teen years and their love started to develop when Jing Yuan became a general. But after that the reader had to go to fulfill a mission and she disappeared? How will he react? Maybe he will overwork himself or something like that?

A couple of years after all situations with his friends and master, he gets information that the reader is still alive and they already arrived on Luofu, still loving him.

Have nice day/ night^^

Pairing: Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader Genre: Romance, Drama, Angst, Fluff Warnings: Mentions of loss, mission-based separation, and emotional turmoil

The storm was always there.

It wasn’t just the storm in the sky—the flashes of lightning that struck the distant horizon or the rumbles of thunder that shook the earth. No, the storm that Jing Yuan felt was something far deeper. It was the quiet ache that settled beneath his ribs, an emptiness he could never escape, not even as the winds howled through the Luofu and the rain battered the palace windows.

He had known her since their youth. Her laughter had always been a light in the darkness, a contrast to his quiet intensity. She had been the one person who understood him without a word, the one person who made everything feel easy when the world around them was anything but.

When they were teenagers, the bond between them had been as natural as breathing. They had shared everything: their dreams, their fears, their hopes for the future. Jing Yuan had never questioned their friendship, never wondered what it might be beyond the shared moments and gentle teasing. He had simply loved her, in the purest form of love a person could offer to a friend.

But as they grew older, the distance began to pull them apart. Jing Yuan could feel the change, subtle at first, like the first flicker of light on the horizon before a storm. The moment he became a general, the weight of his title dragged him away from everything that once mattered. His responsibilities grew, the expectations placed on his shoulders becoming heavier with every passing day. And she, ever the mysterious one, was swept into a mission that would take her far from his reach.

He never thought it would be the last time he’d see her.

The days that followed her departure bled together in a blur of paperwork, meetings, and strategy. Time became irrelevant. Months passed, and the reports that came in about her mission grew increasingly vague, the details lost to shadow. The uncertainty ate at him, gnawing away at his composure, but he never allowed himself to show it. A general couldn’t afford to be distracted, especially not by something as personal as fear.

Still, the nights were the hardest. The long hours he spent in his office, poring over reports and strategies, were always followed by quiet, sleepless nights where the absence of her presence felt like a gaping hole in his chest. He missed her—her laughter, her light, the way she would challenge him without even trying. He missed the way she would roll her eyes at his seriousness, how she would steal food from his plate and then offer him an exaggerated apology. He missed her in a way he couldn’t put into words.

And then there were the dreams. She would appear to him in flashes, a shadow in the distance, a whisper of a memory. Her voice would call his name, and he would wake up with the taste of salt on his tongue, the echo of her laughter ringing in his ears.

He had told himself, for years, that she would return. She had to. But as the months turned to years, Jing Yuan began to wonder if that hope was nothing more than a lie he told himself to keep the storm inside at bay.

He threw himself into his work, losing himself in the daily grind of being a leader. But even as his title demanded more of him, even as his duties pulled him deeper into the weight of the Luofu, the storm inside him never ceased. It never abated.

And so he worked, endlessly, tirelessly, until he could no longer see straight, until his exhaustion became a mask he wore so expertly that no one dared to question it. After all, a general had to be strong.

But inside, Jing Yuan was breaking.

Two years had passed. Two years of uncertainty. Two years of nothing.

But one morning, after hours of poring over documents, Jing Yuan’s communicator buzzed with an unfamiliar notification. He had grown used to the constant flow of messages—routine reports, letters from allies, the demands of his position. But this one was different.

It was a text. From an unknown number.

His fingers hovered over the screen, and for a moment, he questioned whether to open it. But curiosity won out, and he tapped the message open.

“Chin up, storm boy.”

The words hit him like a sudden gust of wind, sharp and cold, a rush of memories flooding back. Storm boy?. It had been so long since he’d heard that phrase, so long since she’d called him that in that teasing, gentle way.

He stared at the screen for a long time, the words blurring before his eyes. His heart pounded in his chest as he let out a shaky breath, barely daring to believe what he was reading. The message wasn’t just a whisper in the wind; it was real. She was alive.

Before he could type a response, another message appeared:

“I’m still here, Ji. I’ll find my way back to you, no matter how long it takes.”

The words were simple, but they were everything. In that moment, the storm in his chest began to quiet, the winds dying down just enough for him to breathe. He wasn’t alone anymore.

He stood up, his hand trembling as he stared at the screen, still unsure whether to believe what had just happened. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because she was still out there. And if she was still out there, then there was hope. He wasn’t just a general, a leader of armies. He was someone who had loved and been loved in return. And that love hadn’t died.

He couldn’t deny it any longer. She was coming back to him.

Days passed, and though he told himself he wouldn’t show it, Jing Yuan couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation that gripped him. His steps were lighter, his mind clearer. Every corner he turned, every shadow he passed, his heart would race, praying that she would be there. The unknown number remained silent, the waiting game between them stretching on.

When she finally arrived, it was as if the world itself paused.

Her figure appeared in the doorway of his office—familiar, but different. The time apart had marked her, just as it had marked him. But the moment their eyes met, the storm in his chest broke free. No words were needed.

He moved toward her, his hands trembling as he reached for her, pulling her into his arms. She was warm, real, solid beneath his touch. She was alive.

For a long moment, they simply stood there, wrapped in the embrace that neither of them had ever truly let go of.

[disneyprincemuke]

the grudge * fem!driver

it takes the whole village to make them realise that racing should not be coming between the friendship they spent years building

pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, lewis hamilton x fem!driver, nico rosberg x fem!driver

warnings: -

notes: hi there.

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

(prev)

the past couple of days have been empty. eerily lonely at times when she wakes up just to drag her feet downstairs of her parent’s home to get a meal by herself and make her way back up after. prior to their predicament, she had planned so many activities to do with logan over their week off.

she turns over when she wakes up, just like every other morning and picks up her phone. hoping, wishing, desperately waiting for a specific text message to dawn her. there are several other notifications but they just don’t seem to matter.

when will logan text, when will he apologise— more importantly, when can they be best friends again?

she misses him.

she’s wondered over the past few days since they fell out mid-race, how other people get through something like this. it’s never been a problem, not for them, because they made a promise.

sure, they were young, but it was easy to think that they would never let their careers get the better of them.

she remembers speaking in hushed whispers, as if it was a crime, promising one another that they would always be best friends no matter what. they would never let what happened to others happen to them.

she hasn’t spoken to oscar much either. she tries to lie to herself and say that he’s probably busy spending time with lily and his family, but a smaller part of her assumes that he’s pulling away because of logan. oscar tries to convince her and say that isn’t the case, but she’s slowly starting to believe her lie.

she lays awake for some time wondering if logan missed her the same, or if reaching out had ever crossed his mind. she can’t be the only one feeling this way, right?

her finger hovers over his caller id, going back and forth the decision of dropping him a call. but she is still insistent that she is not wrong. he clearly clipped her car, so why should she? everyone could see that but him.

it hurts, but it hurts more than when she would get into days-long arguments with oscar.

she hasn’t had her own share of a heartbreak, but somehow hurts in the way that some of her friends would describe it to her. it’s more than the pain you feel when you’re falling out with a best friend.

instead, she locks her phone and gets out of bed to start whatever is left of her day.

is this really how it’s going to be? losing his best friend over one crash out of the many others they’ve had since they met?

he stares at the ceiling with stubby resting his paws on his stomach, pondering if he truly is doing the right thing by holding out.

but every time he thinks of finally apologising, he remembers every other time that he had to put aside his pride just to keep her around. not that it truly ever mattered — their friendship always comes above all else — he just finds it incredibly unfair.

how about this once, she is the one who puts her pride aside to keep their friendship? does it really have to always be him?

then he starts to wonder if he is the only one who thinks of their friendship this way. maybe he’s the only one holding onto something that’s dwindled over the years; she has new friends anyway.

logan misses her. the apartment simply isn’t the same without him waking up to his door opened slightly after she borrowed one of his hoodies to wear for a walk, or the shrill baby voice she likes to use when talking to their pets, or the whining and pouting she gives him when she doesn’t want to go out by herself but refuses to ask him if he wants to come with her.

sometimes he misses her more than a best friend should. though, that’s not really the point.

it makes sense now to him how friends fall apart when they’re in the same sport. but even with just one example, there’s also another pair of best friends who seem closer than they were before.

now he is conflicted. none of it makes sense at all.

but only time can tell if he is doing the right thing. or, if she would even realise that their friendship should be greater than whatever the hell the situation is right now.

“you’re telling me that you and rocky have not spoken for an entire week?”

logan shrugs, “yeah, i guess.”

alex’s gaze follows logan as he walks across the room to take a seat, an eyebrow raising in confusion at his nonchalance. “and you don’t plan to?”

“not unless she reaches out first.”

logan lifts his gaze from his hands and meets alex’s eyes. alex doesn’t even know how to go about the situation anymore – it seems like he’s said everything he could say to logan to try and amend their friendship. yet, there’s still nothing he says that could convince him otherwise.

it would be a shame to see a friendship fall apart over a crash during a race.

not everyone can have what they have and maintain it for as long as they have. of course, he knows, he’s best friends with george.

a week into their 2-week break and she is holding out longer than he’s expected. he’s very apologetic for the fact that her car had spun and hit the wall, but it’s just unfair that he was expected to be the one apologising for the crash itself.

the crash was caused by 2 people, not just him. he’s sure there’s something there that she could have done better to avoid the accident.

“i’m heading out to grab lunch with george after this,” alex grins, “would you like to come with us?”

“sure.”

she swings her hand up to stop the man from opening his mouth to speak to her, the door in her other hand. “don’t tell me you’re here for what i think you’re here for.”

“i’m not?” george grins with hesitation, dropping the pint of ice cream he’d gotten to soften her up for the conversation he wants to have. “come on, you need to speak to logan.”

she sighs and rests her hands on her hips. “i know sebastian sent you.”

he presses his lips together. “no, he didn’t.”

“it’s because i’m ignoring his text messages,” she scowls. yet she still takes a step back and opens the door wider and gestures for him to come inside. “i’m not stupid.”

george walks in, handing her the pint of chocolate ice cream he’d picked up. “it’s not your favourite brand, but it’s still chocolate ice cream,” he mutters. he turns as she closes the front door and huffs. “you need to speak to logan before all of this gets out of hand too fast and you regret it.”

“does he regret sending me into the wall?” she raises an eyebrow. when george continues to stare at her, blinking blankly, she nods and turns on her heel to walk into the kitchen. “you know this wasn’t my fault — you saw the footage, george! that’s so unfair!”

he sighs. he’s never been in this situation with alex, but he can only imagine how his world would around if they were. sure, it’s hard to get past something like this, especially at the stage of their career, but he just isn’t sure how to help either.

yes, logan had been the one to close in on her on the track, but why couldn’t they just recognise they were both wrong one way or another?

“okay, fine. whatever,” george says exasperatedly. “actually, i’m here to ask if you wanted to get lunch with alex and i later.”

she raises an eyebrow with a small smile. “sure!”

“sorry,” george laughs airily, putting his phone face down on the table. he moves into the booth alongside the younger girl. “alex is running a little late.”

“that’s alright,” she mutters, reaching out for the menu. she opens the menu before it dawns on her.

she lowers her menu and turns stiffly to george who is reaching for his menu and takes his seat. “what?”

“why are you sitting next to me?” she raises an eyebrow and throws her head back slightly.

george puts a hand to his chest. “do you hate me?”

she shakes her head. “no! it’s not like that,” she scowls, “you always sit next to alex when we get lunch.”

he tilts his head and narrows his eyes as he pretends to think. “do i?” he scrunches his nose. “i don’t always sit next to him.”

but he knows that she poses an incredible point. he, however, hadn’t expected her to be so observant, as opposed to her typical carefree and non-analytical nature. perhaps this entire fallout has changed her slightly, especially without logan always next to her.

she hums without another word, confusion still written on her face, before she looks at her menu again.

she’s been to this restaurant numerous times since moving to london. it’s actually her favourite. a classic between her and logan, always making it out of their way to get food here when they’re back in town.

she doesn’t actually need the menu — she orders the same damn thing every time, swearing to herself that she will try something new her next visit. which she is something she abides by most times, always ordering a new side dish or by forcing logan to get something she wants but is too scared to try.

“i thought you would have memorised that menu front and back considering how much you come here,” george jokes, his eyes darting from his menu to the entrance of the restaurant.

he shakes his leg in anticipation, aimlessly flipping through the pages yet he still has not retained one dish in his head. it’s never going to work.

in the back of his head, he hears alex’s voice telling him again and again that it would.

“funny. that’s the same thing logan says whenever we eat here.”

truthfully, george hadn’t even brought logan up in the time they’ve been together. he’s pleasantly surprised that she was the first to address him again after their initial conversation at her parents’ front door.

“does he?” george grins slightly.

“yeah,” she lifts her head, lips pursed together as she stares into the distance, “i always make him order something new that i could try because i’m too scared it won’t be to my liking.”

he’s surprised. he didn’t think logan could come up in such a peaceful topic at this time of day. he thought that she would keep it hostile even when speaking of him.

“that’s very thoughtful."

she grins. “yes, i guess he is a very thoughtful guy.”

george sits up and adjusts the sleeves of his sweatshirt. he clears his throat. “speaking of logan-”

“no.”

“what?” he cried incredulously with a hand in the air. “you brought him up first!”

“no.”

“fine.”

oh, they’re not going to eat at her favourite restaurant, are they? logan furrows his eyebrows as he’s led forward by alex and he increasingly gets more nervous as they get closer.

spending this much time away from her has made her miss her so much. he’s almost afraid that it might really be the end of their friendship at all.

he’s never eaten here without her. he acts annoyed all the time when she forces him to try a new dish every visit while she has the luxury of sticking to her comfort food, but truthfully, he finds himself searching for her voice in the silence.

can he really have a meal without her at her favourite restaurant? surely not. yet he follows alex inside without another word. he nervously looks around, finding remnants of all the meals he’s had with her here.

he sees george in the far corner of the restaurant, lifting his arm to wave at logan with a small grin. alex abruptly stops walking that makes logan halt before he can run into his back.

the expression on alex’s face is something logan has only seen a couple of times on the older guy. the thai sucks in a deep breath and holds his hands up in the air, “don’t be mad.”

logan raises an eyebrow. “why would i be mad?” he tilts his head as he tries to come up with a reason that assumption would come up. “it’s just a restaurant, i can eat here without rocky.”

“yeah,” alex nods with his lips pressed together. “that’s the thing.”

just then, a shrill and disgusted ‘what’ throws the relaxing aura of the restaurant off.

he knows that voice anywhere. he swears he is haunted by that scream in his sleep when he’s done something he shouldn’t have and is trying to keep a secret.

a head pops out of the plants in the divider. she turns her head and finds logan, standing in the middle of the restaurant just as shell-shocked.

so to hell with their argument, right? he should just apologise and get it done and over with then he can get his best friend back. and all will be right in the world.

logan swears that her gaze softened when she saw him standing there. he has to reason out with himself not to run over and pull her into the tightest hug he’s ever trapped her in. a lot has happened in the past week, and every time he thinks of reaching out, he hesitates.

in hindsight, why does he hesitate? this is literally his best friend in the whole world.

and she swears she will jump over this damned divider to get to logan. should she punch him or jump into his arms for a hug? this might be the longest she hasn’t seen the boy and the feeling of familiarity washes over her in relief.

“logan,” she says his name in a soft and airy sigh. the corners of her lips curl into a small smile as her shoulders drop from their tense position. “hi.”

“hi.”

his heart starts beating faster when she pushes past george to get out of the booth. alex jogs to where george stands, cozying up next to his best friend as they watch the scene unfold. they’ve never tried to parent-trap anyone into reconciliation before. this is a first and if they succeed, they would never shut up about it.

she walks over to him, smile still intact with her back straight. she stops right in front of him and her hands clasped in front of her.

her smile grows and she takes another breath. she can’t seem to find the right words to say to him now that he’s finally in front of her. “hi.”

logan grins, “it’s nice to finally see you again. i missed you.”

“i missed you too.” she presses her lips together and glances down at her feet momentarily. she raises her gaze again.

when george had finally told her logan was joining them for lunch, a million things ran through her mind. half of her thoughts wanted to start fighting all over again but the latter just wanted to sit down in silence and make up for all of the time they’d lost.

“did we really get ambushed by alex and george?” she snorts softly, looking over her shoulder where they stand with one another, staring intensely at them.

logan grins with a small nod. “i’m surprised they pulled it off, really.”

silence looms over them once again — the implications of the crash threatens another fight. logan’s heart starts beating faster as he remembers again why exactly he’s very persistent on getting an apology. just an apology, that’s all he’s asking for.

there is simply so much more to it than just the younger girl putting her pride aside over the crash. sure, whatever, he can come out and admit that it was ultimately because of a mistake from him on the track. what he can’t accept is the girl's unwillingness to initiate reconciliation.

does she truly care so little for him to be a part of his life?

“let’s go and get lunch,” she says, beckoning him forward to where alex and george are. she takes a couple of steps away. “i was really sad at the thought of eating here without you.”

“is that all you have to say?” logan raises an eyebrow. he stays planted where he stands. she whirls around in confusion. “we haven’t talked the longest in our lives and you’re just going to invite me to the table and act like we didn’t just have a fight?”

she presses his lips together and clenches her jaw. “if anything, you’re the one ignoring it — you caused the crash, remember?”

logan scoffs. how shallow. “oh, get over the crash already! you seriously don’t even see why this entire thing is an issue? are you seriously so stupid?”

“we were so close,” george mutters in a soft sigh. “why are they stupid?”

“i wish i knew.” alex purses his lips together before he steps away from the table. he clasps his hands together and steps in between the two, just as she took a step forward to answer logan. he holds his arms out to her to keep her distance from logan. “okay, i see it’s still too soon.”

“it wouldn’t be too soon if she could just realise how insensitive she’s being!” logan scoffs softly, pointing an accusatory finger at the girl. he’s fully aware of the eyes watching them in the restaurant. “i know racing is everything to you, but i swear if you keep acting like this, you’re going to lose every single person you love.”

she scoffs, taking a step back. her eyes start to glisten, making logan start to feel bad. “of course, it’s everything to me, i dedicated my entire life to get where i am.”

“yeah, so much so that you’re willing to burn bridges to stay where you are.” logan turns on his heel. “i will have lunch at home instead, alex. thanks for inviting me out.”

“if you missed her and she missed you, what’s the problem?” oscar turns the seat around to face logan. “good on alex and george for trying to get you guys back together while i was gone. i really thought all this would blow over by now.”

logan shrugs. he turns his phone over and over on his stomach, swaying back and forth. “you don’t understand. she’s changed.”

“you keep saying that, mate,” oscar sighs tiredly. he throws himself back into his seat. “i still don’t know what you mean.”

logan feels a little silly. saying it out loud suddenly feels so superficial and overtly sensitive. “it’s stupid.”

“well, if you’re letting this fight drag out this long, there has to be a reason behind it.” oscar smiles slightly and nods at him, truly curious as to why all of this has blown so out of proportion. “what is it?”

“when we crashed, we both got out of the car,” logan starts slowly, nitpicking his choice of words for the fear of sounding a little too unreasonable, “she never asked me if i was okay. it was a pretty nasty crash for both of us.”

that’s it, really. that’s his only problem with it — she had never asked, not once, if he was okay. she’d just started getting angry, which was understandable, but it never really hit him why he was feeling so sad until he started getting examined for his injuries a while later. he’s personally curious if she was feeling better, but she still hadn’t asked him yet.

which kind of sucks because he’s starting to feel like he cares more for her than she does for him.

“oh, i see.” oscar sits up. “okay, i totally get it. i’ll speak with her.”

logan shakes his head, “you don’t have to. if she doesn’t realise it on her own, what does it really say about her, you know?”

“i know, but i’ll try talking to her first.”

so oscar doesn’t exactly talk to her himself. truth is he can’t bring himself to be the one to speak with her about logan; he just knows he can’t pick a side. whatever she says, he’ll be trying to defend both sides and they’ll never get anywhere with it.

so, he asked if sebastian would speak with her. even then, sebastian hadn’t dared to speak with her about this. he would be able to have conversations with her about anything except this.

he just knows what she would throw back in his face so he already knew immediately that he shouldn’t be the one to.

so he went to the next best pairing who could potentially fix it.

the young girl gapes up at the duo towering over her as she sinks into the couch. she’s suddenly felt so small, a contrast to her initial bratty attitude from being interrupted from her lunch.

“what are you guys doing here?” she blinks. “why are you even together here?”

“what do you mean?” nico tilts his head. “don’t you like me? i thought you liked me? you said you like my presence.”

she furrows her eyebrows. none of this makes sense unless there’s something she’s failed to connect. “i do, but like… why are you here in front of me?”

“we just wanna talk,” lewis grins, folding his arms over his chest. “we need to talk to you.”

her confusion slowly contorts into something of suspicion. a scowl carves her lips as her eyes narrow into a glare. “seb sent you, didn’t he? this is about logan?”

“i told you she’s smarter than to fall for the excuse that we’re here just to spend time with her,” nico points out, turning to lewis. “she’s a degree holder, of course, she will see right through us.”

“and i said it doesn’t matter if she does. we just need to get the message across,” lewis rambles at nico before he turns to the girl. “i’ll keep it simple.”

she looks up, uninterested, sinking back into the couch with her arms folded over her chest. “okay. try and change my mind.”

“is logan your best friend or not?”

she presses her lips together. “yes, he is. or at least he used to be.”

“do you love him or not?”

she doesn’t answer. what does he mean by that? is there an agenda to this that she hadn’t anticipated for? is she really that obvious?

“what does that mean?” nico whispers. “you hate him or what?”

lewis rolls his eyes. “as a best friend. i don’t care if you’re in love with him, rocky. that’s not what we’re here for.”

she looks away momentarily. “yes, i love him as a best friend. what the hell does that have to do with anything? i’m sure he loves me too yet he doesn’t want to apologise.”

“is this racing thing seriously so much more important than keeping your best friend in your life, though?” nico smiles. hopefully, that gets through to her.

she scowls, “i don’t know — you tell me.”

“rocky.”

“it’s a genuine question, lewis.”

“this isn’t about us.”

“it can be if you want.”

“stop diverting!” nico yelps. “listen, okay, if you don’t fix this, you’ll need to live with yourself losing your best friend over one crash! not just for the time being, rocky, forever! for the rest of your life! can you really live with that?”

“maybe.”

“take me seriously!” nico stomps a foot on the ground. “he’s not going to leave the grid. can you really live coming into the paddocks on weekends all by yourself? no logan to carry your bags, no logan to giggle with when you want to, no logan to have meals with, no logan to come home to in your shared apartment with your pets. really?”

she sucks in a deep and shaky breath. she can’t. she really can’t see living the rest of her life out without logan around to annoy and cry to.

the past couple of days holding out from speaking to logan has been so difficult but can’t really get herself to admit to it. she can’t see herself winning any more races in the season and not leaving to celebrate with him, or flying back after race weekends to relax in their apartment with a bottle of wine.

lewis huffs. “you maybe need to be the one to swallow your pride if you don’t want to lose this friendship.”

“and i heard from the grapevine that you still haven’t ask logan if he’s okay.” nico looks away and innocently tries looking around the room to avoid her gaze. “his crash was pretty bad, you know. he had a concussion too.”

“did he?” she asks, her tone a little more gentle and her voice softer. “is he okay now?”

lewis shrugs. “go and ask him yourself.”

she stands up and brushes her pants. “you’re right. get out of my way, i’m going to apologise to my best friend.”

she pushes past both of the older men and grabs her car keys from the table by the door. she halts right before she makes it out of the room and turns. “thank you. i really appreciate this. i can’t imagine what it took you guys to get together just to put some sense into my head.”

she steps out. “maybe when logan and i make up, i could take some sense into you!”

logan expected it to come in the form of a short phone call, maybe a long text message. not for her to show back up at their apartment with takeout in her hands and a small grin.

“what?”

“can i come in?” she grins hopefully, peeking into the apartment. “i brought us takeout from our favourite place.”

logan steps aside and opens the door wider. “why are you asking me for permission? this is your apartment.”

“i know,” she sighs as she steps in to take off her shoes.

logan closes the door behind her and he puts his hands into his pockets. it’s still very nice to see her and he’s genuinely missed her more than ever.

distance makes the heart grow fonder or something like that.

he waits for her to start up a conversation. when they stand in silence, him staring at her back as she slowly takes off her jacket, he attempts to walk past her. he was watching a movie with stubby after all.

“how are you feeling?” she suddenly asks, stopping logan right behind her in the very cramp entryway into their apartment. she stands up straighter and turns around, attempting to make a step back when she realises their proximity. “i heard you got a concussion too.”

he can’t help but smile slightly. so that’s what she’s here for.

finally.

“i’m feeling alright. just whiplash and muscle pain, nothing new,” he admits softly. “what about you?”

she grins. “i’m feeling okay,” she mutters. “i’m sorry i didn’t ask if you were okay. you must have felt like i didn’t care about you at all.”

“you didn’t get your podium because of me. i’m sorry too,” logan puts a hand on her shoulder and shakes her slightly, “it was in the heat of the moment. sucks that it took you this long to realise though.”

“are we best friends again? i got us food.” she raises the bag of takeout with a giggle and a feeling of warmth in her chest. “we didn’t get to eat the other day, after all.”

“of course, you’re my best friend, you idiot.” logan throws an arm over her shoulders as they walk into the apartment. he ruffles her hair from the top of her head and smacks it gently. “let’s not fight about something like that ever again.”

“well, don’t crash into me again when i’m fighting for a podium.”

“seriously?”

“okay, i’m sorry. i’ll make that joke again in 3 weeks maybe.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @c-losur3 @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @tinyhrry @iwilleatyourgod @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[brittle-doughie]

(Bro I feel like Blood Orange would actually hunt me down for what I’m about to do)

Ok so I thought of a funny scenario but I have NO idea how this can go. So hear:

Y/N: “ah, I’m sorry Princess Cookie. But I can’t go to the ball at the Hollyberry Palace.”

Princess: “*gasp* why?? D-did something happen? Did we do something you didn’t like?? Why??”

Y/N: “well, uhhh-“

???: “Y/N dear!”

???: “thank goodness, thought I lost you there for a second.”

Y/N: “oh no need to worry, I’m just talking to a friend.”

???: “oh, then do forgive my intrusive then.”

Arancia Vino?: “My name is Arancia Vino Cookie, one of the head scientists in the Crème republic.”

Princess: “…uh… Hi. Your uhhhh…”

Arancia Vino?: “tall? Weird looking?”

Princess: “y-yeah. I never met a cookie as… strange as you.”

Arancia Vino?: “I get that a lot. I do sometimes wonder how I even got a body such as this. It’s not every day you see some cookie with a humanoid appearance.”

Princess: “I can imagine.”

Y/N: “welp, you two seem to be getting along. But we have places to be.”

Arancia Vino: “right, it was nice meeting you.”

Princess: “you too, hope you have a good day…”

Princess(internally): “Who TF is she?? Why is she with Y/N? How is she so tall? What’s with that body?? Is she even a girl?!”

Y/N: “well that was fun.”

Arancia Vino?: “yeah… question.”

Arancia Vino(Blood Orange): “how long do I have to keep up this act? If someone, witches be damned the cult, found out about this, it won’t end well.” 

Y/N: “….just until my back is fixed. I don’t want another bear hug to be put in the hospital.”

‘Arancia Vino’ : “fair point. Let’s just head over to the party. I’ve always wondered what Cheesecakes parties were like.”

Y/N: “trust me, they’re to die for.”

‘Arancia Vino’: “I’ll see for myself.”

Me after doing all this:

…yeah, I should probably explain: Blood Orange Cookies body is basically a mix of a male and female body exaggerated. It’s also why he wears baggy pants (mostly because I’m slightly uncomfortable with that detail but I don’t want to change it.)

Blood Orange is just full of surprises, god damn. No wonder Princess Cookie was so flabbergasted.

[sarnai4]

Roomies

Did the "random thought" bug bite me again? Always. Here's the result this time: The responsibilities each of the Olympians would have if they lived together in modern days.

Athena - She stocks up their personal library (think Beauty and the Beast, but times 1000). It's her job to make sure that the books are in proper order and all the best selections are here. Is this a real responsibility? Debatable. Did it exist before she suggested it? No, but at least the Olympians have everything from non-fiction to the best fantasies to read.

Ares - He's in charge of taking out the trash because he drew the short straw and putting up shelves because he wanted that one. It's fun for him to hammer in the nails. Now, the walls are covered in more shelves than they could ever need and the halls are filled with his mildly diabolical laughter as he hammers.

Demeter - She keeps the fridge and pantry filled. They have literally never been empty. Every time someone uses up one of the foods, it's replaced. The others are genuinely unsure how she does this and will randomly test it out, just to find that the food is in there again. They think she's particularly magical.

Zeus - He's in charge of the electricity. If they have a power outage, all eyes are on him. They don't ever need an electricity bill or to charge phones. They just put the phones on him when he's sleeping so that he won't snoop through their stuff (Yes, they have phone locks, but he can probably find a way to get past those).

Hermes - Sweep and vacuum duty. Everyone has to leave while he does this. He's flying around so fast that he'd give the healthiest immortal asthma with all the dust he kicks up. The nice part for him is that he can be done in a matter of seconds.

Hephaestus - He's in charge of building chairs anything the home needs. The computers, sofas, tables, TVs, etc. are all built by him. Oddly enough, they all buy their beds elsewhere. He's not sure why they don't trust him to build those too. It's not like he'd make it a trap or something :p.

Hera - She makes sure everyone has family dinner together. This might seem like an easy task, but it's probably the hardest. No one wants to do this. You have sets of siblings who will eat together and that is it. She will go so far as to lasso the younger immortals, dragging them to the dining room kicking and screaming. It's not pretty.

Poseidon - He cleans the bathrooms. He finds it sort of gross, but as soon as the others remembered that he could control water, that was a done deal. When he's in a bad mood, he purposely does it badly, then he gets glared at enough and fixes it. One day, he might learn to just do it right the 1st time.

Artemis - She's in charge of getting the animals to mount on the shelves. It's also not a responsibility anyone planned on her having, but she volunteered and ran off before they could stop her. They just deal with it now. They like it better when she brings back meat for them to eat.

Apollo - He makes sure that all the safety measures are taken care of. He's got the first aid kit FILLED. It's a little concerning. His siblings swear that he's waiting for them to get a limb ripped off. He also has fire extinguishers and everything else. They don't know if he's prepared because he wants to be or because he knows something they don't.

Hestia - She's the cook. Nobody could pull her away from the oven if they wanted and the food's great, so they don't want to. The home always smells like baked goods. The others love her so much because of this. She also lets them sneak and be taste testers whenever they like.

Hades - He pays the bills. He's filthy rich, so the others just sort of gave him pleading eyes and he caved. The poor guy barely even lives here, but he's still paying the mortgage, etc. (not electricity bill though!). The few times he comes to visit and check in, he wonders how the building is still standing.

Dionysus - Wine cellar duty. That and wet bar mixologist. He comes up with new drinks for the others and regularly sees how much they can handle before just being completely out of it. He finally got in enough trouble for doing this that he makes slightly less potent drinks now.

Aphrodite - Ambiance manager. She wasn't supposed to be a live-in girlfriend, but now she is and won't leave. The others don't mind, though. She puts out nice flowers, paints the walls, and makes sure the place looks beautiful.

(Let me know if you like the sound of this! If my upcoming Greek comedy book does well, I might release a continuation where there's a short story with this being a real thing.)

[practicalgauntlet]

~You're still my person. Even if I'm not yours.~

"To love in silence is to ache with the hope of being seen, yet fearing the pain of remaining unseen."

Synopsis- You attend J.J.'s wedding. The reception is beautiful except for one thing: watching the love of your life pine for another.

Category- Angst (unhappy ending)

Notes - This is meant to be one part, but I can add a happy ending if you need it, unrequited love, one-sided pining, angst without a happy ending, this one is going to hurt, this was all I could think of when watching the episode, self-loathing, self-hating language.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You were happy for J.J., you really were. She had almost lost Will and Henery in the span of a day. It was unsurprising that she bit the bullet and decided to marry the father of her son.

The reception was just as beautiful as the bride herself as she walked down the aisle in her mother's wedding gown. It was a surprise, the wedding, thrown together by both Will and Rossi.

But it was bittersweet. Despite the thrumming, electric air of the night, you felt empty.

You had known for quite a while that Spencer was in love with J.J. It was apparent and frankly quite obvious, from the prolonged, yearning glances he tossed her way. The frantic worry he would give her if she was hurt or in danger. He didn't show that type of worry to anyone else, not even you.

Yes, he cared deeply for his team - it would take a bullet for them - but not to the point of almost wild, feral paranoia.

You weren't sure if anyone else noticed the way he acted around J.J. or the way he would look at her when she wasn't looking. Maybe it was because you were in love with him as much as he was in love with her.

You focused on the minute details of his behavior, hoping to gleam a fraction of the affection that was directed at her. Most of the time, you saw things you knew you didn't, making quick glances and friendly smiles into something they weren't just to save yourself the heartache.

But now she was getting married. And you could see he was miserable.

He hid it well, timing his smiles and laughter with everyone else's, patting Will on the back in congratulations while keeping that deep-set look of anguish off his face.

But when no one was paying attention, no one but you, his face fell, and that tight-lipped smile faded into misery.

He watched her every second, admiring her from afar as she walked down the aisle. As she kissed Henery before looking up at Will on the altar. He winced and closed his eyes when the couple leaned in to seal their marriage with a kiss.

Penelope had asked if you were okay, wondering why you were so quiet on such a momentous occasion. But if Spencer could hide his feelings for J.J. from the team, then you could remain undetected as well.

When the afternoon bled into a beautiful moon lit night, the glittering lanterns lighting up the yard in which Rossi hosted, you felt hopeless.

Both because you desperately wanted to wipe that sad look off of Spencer's face and because your bubble of delusion was popped.

For years, you secretly hoped he felt the same for you. From the brief glances of adoration, he would throw at you to the blinding smiles he would greet you with. There was not a moment you hoped you weren't overthinking every little reaction, every little touch or laugh.

Turns out you were just as delusional as the monsters you hunted. To think you were good enough to possibly become the object of Spencer's affection. To think you were brilliant enough to even gain his attention, to interest him beyond friendship.

You sat at the table, sandwiched between Penelope and Derek and across the table from Spencer, knee deep in self-loathing. It felt like you were wading through sludge, the world around you moving slow like dripping honey.

You caught Spencer's eye, and he offered you that same tight-lipped, polite, 'I'm definitely not okay if you look past my quickly crumbling mask of normalcy!' smile. You offered one back.

It was safe to assume he was feeling just as broken as you were at that moment, watching the love of his life look at someone else with such adoration and love.

And it broke your heart. Made you feel like a self-absorbed pile of human shit because here you were, wallowing in your own internal battle while Spencer was shattering before you.

You look at him, trying to subtly ask him if he is okay with your eyes. You hoped he wasn't so out of it with sorrow that his profiling skills were rendered useless.

He simply looked away as Rossi stood and tapped his fork against his glass. David gave a heartwarming speech about timing and happiness, pointing a loving hand towards the grinning couple at the head of the table.

Everyone was clapping and smiling, congratulating the newlyweds and their wishing their future the best. Even Spencer was participating, his manurisms and expression genuine for the first time that night.

When they kissed again, Spencer stood and excused himself. No one was really paying attention to him, more focused on each other and the joy that filled the air. No one even thought of sadness being present at a time like this.

You cought Spencer's expression as he walked into the house and you were standing before you could even think.

"Where's the fire, sugar?"

Penelope asked, your studden movement gaining the attention of the technical analyst.

"Bathroom."

You murmured, more focused on reaching Spencer than drawing the curious eye of the infamous meddler.

You were in the house and wandering the halls before she could say anything else, your eyes peeled for any indication as to where Spencer went.

He wasn't on the first floor, nor the second, not in the garage or in the kitchen. You couldn't find him, no matter where you looked. Hell, you even looked in the linen closet.

When you pass the mud room, you see a tall, lanky silhouette in the stained glass of the front door.

You were twisting the knob not a moment later, heart racing a mile a minute. Spencer was standing on the porch, still as a statue. You could see the tension in his body, in the way he held his hands at his sides, the way his shoulders never seemed to relax.

You know he heard you open the door, knew his moment of peace was interrupted.

"Are you okay?"

You ask, testing the waters by gently closing the door and standing next to him. You didn't look at him, no matter how bad you wanted to.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

His voice was carefully crafted, even, and steady. If you didn't know him, you would have thought everything was fine and dandy. But you did know him. You knew him like the back of your hand.

There was a strained layer to the way he spoke. It was the same tone he used on you and the team while he was addicted to Dilaudid, the same tone he used after Gideon left. Carefully hidden turmoil so he didn't have to burden anyone with his 'pathetic' emotions.

You knew him too well.

"You can talk to me, Spence."

"I'm fine, really. I just needed some air."

The lie was blatant on his face. He was begging you to drop it to leave him be so he could keep his composure until he was alone in his apartment. You didn't want to leave it alone, his pain bleeding into yours, amplifying all the hurt and hopelessness you'd felt all night.

"Spence-"

"Drop it."

That sadness, that misery that swirled beneath the surface, was replaced with ire. You knew he didn't mean to take it out on you but in your already fragile mental state the glare he pinned you with cut so deep you feared you'd never stop bleeding.

He left, shouldering past you and back into the house to most likely join the party with his fake fucking smile and his painfully obvious suffering.

You couldn't move, couldn't get your legs to take you back no matter how hard you tried. You were stuck, both emotionally and physically.

The next breath you took left you staggering. You had to sit, had to prevent the inevitable collapse you were destined to have. The cold, hard wood of the porch bit into your knees as you dropped, a broken sob wrenching its way out of your throat.

Another one clawed past that lump, building, and building until you couldn't hold back any longer. You bit your lip, tasting the blood that spilled into your mouth as you tried and failed to keep your sobs a bay.

The wails of agony had you hunched in on yourself, the power of them shaking your body and scratching your throat. Briefly, you thought of gaining the attention of any of the partygoers, your shattering drawing them to the porch so they could bear witness to your destruction.

You'd rather die than succumb someone to that, so you bit down on your knuckle. You were still so loud, your lip and knuckle aching from your teeth.

The door opened, and you froze, body still shaking with emotion as you lay there in a heap of pity.

"Oh my god, sugar plumb!" Penelope gasps, rushing to your side and leaving the door wide open. "What happened?"

You continued to sob uncontrollably, hands absently reaching for Penelope’s hand and drawing yourself into her comforting embrace.

Your words were broken by hiccuping wails, face wet with snot and tears.

"I love him, Pen."

"Will?"

She pulls back and looks at your broken face, holding you by the shoulders as she levels you with a confused face.

"No, Spencer."

You'd never said it out loud before, and now that it was out in the open, it felt as if your entire world was just tilted on its axis.

"Oh, honey pot,"

She draws you into her embrace again, smoothing your hair with gentle pets, cooing sweet nothings until you are numb. Quiet and calm, but numb. Void of the emotion that so fiercely burned within you just moments ago.

"He loves someone else."

You say pathetically, your voice monotone and as empty as you feel.

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

"I can't stand it anymore, Pen. Watching him yearn for her."

"Shhh." She coos, wrapping her arms tightly around you. "Everything will be okay."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Three months have passed since the wedding. Everything wasn't okay.

You walked the earth with that same, cold, unending nothingness that overtook you that night in Penelope’s arms.

She made it her mission to make you feel better. Making jokes, setting you up, hosting girls' night out, and slumber parties. Everything she could think of, she dragged you along with her. But it felt like your world ended that night.

Spencer wasn't the same either. He didn't ask you to go to the library with him, didn't try and pull you along with him and Penelope to their various conventions, and didn't smile at you when you greeted him.

He was numb too.

There was a loss of two loves that evening, a great love story missed. The paths of fate are so close yet they never converge, never collide.

You went on a blind date once.

Never again.

He was fine. He was smart, handsome, and funny. But not as smart, as handsome, as funny. He wasn't Spencer.

It felt like you missed your chance, that if you did something better, something right, he would have chosen you. You could have made him happy.

"The heart wants what it wants. There is no logic to these things. You meet someone, and you fall in love, and that's that." - Woody Allen.

[rhyrhy]

hiii i was wondering if u could do headcanons/anything of abby being your bestfriends older sister or ur brothers bestfriend???

I couldn’t pick so I mixed them! Mwah, TY for the request 💐

Brother’s older bestfriend - headcannons, Abby!

Older Abby! Who religiously spent the weekend hanging out with your brother, for as long as you could remember. Giving you her usual “heya” greeting before disappearing upstairs.

Older Abby! Who on the days when your brother forgets about you for whatever girl he’s seeing at the time, always offers you a ride. “I’m going to your house anyway” she always said with a shrug.

Older Abby! who can’t resist chiming in when you’re talking to your brother about your own girl drama. “If she sucks, dump her. Easy.” Like it’s the simplest thing in the world. And every time you show a picture of a girl you’re talking to, she twists her face in disapproval and adds “ugh, You can do better.”

Older Abby! who always makes your brother apologize when he’s upset you, even over the smallest things. “Don’t be an ass. Go say sorry,” she’d say with her arms crossed. When he came back with an eye roll, she’d chuckle, “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Older Abby! who gets a kick out of ruffling your hair after you’ve spent an hour perfecting it. Your pout or exasperated “Knock it off!” only makes her laugh. “Relax, it looks fine,” she’d say, smoothing it down after she’s had her fun.

Older Abby! who notices your glances at her arms and subtly flexes just to see your reaction. Every time, she bites back a grin, watching your reaction. She’d figured out your little crush a while ago, but she thought it was harmless.

Older Abby! who’s always had a good relationship with your parents. She even helps clean up whenever she stays for dinner. Once, she cleaned up after you when you got distracted with something else, and when you patted her arm to thank her, she realized how much she secretly enjoyed your praise. “Mhm, No problem,” she’d reply casually, though her cheeks would flush the second you turned away.

Older Abby! Who found herself asking your brother about you when you weren’t home. “So, how’s sis?” She’d ask casually, to ease any wondering thoughts she had. “Just askin” she’d add quickly, knowing he’d tease her to hell or worse rung her neck if he caught on.

Older Abby! who starts complimenting you more often as time goes on. “Cool shirt,” or “That looks good,” she’d say in passing, trying to keep her cool while avoiding staring too long.

Older Abby! who begins gravitating toward you without realizing it. Whether it’s leaning against the counter while you’re in the kitchen or hanging over the couch you’re sitting on, she starts subconsciously seeking out your presence and aren’t complaining.

Older Abby! who starts including you in more of her plans with your brother. “Wanna join?” or “That’s boring, come hang out instead,” she’d say, already pulling you out of your room by the wrist.

Older Abby! who gets flustered when your brother catches her staring as you walk past his room. “Abby Anderson, tell me you did not just check out my younger sister,” he’d say, jaw dropped. “What? No! Pfft Absolutely not,” she’d wave off, feeling her stomach twist in knots.

Older Abby! who shows up one day only to find your brother forgot to tell her he needed to cancel. Instead of leaving, she decides to stick around with you. “You busy?” she’d ask casually, already making herself at home on your bed. By the time your brother came back, she’d spent hours with you and had no intention of leaving.

Older Abby! who one day, overhears you squealing about something you got in the mail and can’t resist sneaking down the hall to see what it is. “Hey, what’s got you so excited?” she’d ask, leaning against your doorframe with a grin.

Older Abby! whose eyes widen when you pull her into an excited hug and blurt out the news. She doesn’t pull away, smiling as she wraps her arms around you.

Older Abby! who finds herself caught in the moment when a sudden kiss happens. She knows she should stop, but instead, she pulls you closer, letting it continue.

Older Abby! who, when the kiss breaks, can’t tear her gaze from your lips. “Jesus… Your brother’s gonna kill me,” she mutters, her voice lowered. “But I’m not stopping.”

Older Abby! who realizes she’s returning your feelings and decides she’ll face the consequences later

because right now, she doesn’t care.

[dorkyteenagedirtbag-ks]

Synopsis: Kaiser’s dream of glory comes true, but his victory feels hollow.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

The energy in the stadium was electric; people were crazy. The crowd was roaring for Kaiser. The lights shone bright, and the chants of his name echoed, everything felt surreal. Football was his life, his savior, his everything. But as he stood there, triumphant and soaked in sweat, a weight settled in his chest like never before.

The locker room was filled with excitement, but Kaiser sat quietly in a corner, a towel draped over his head, lost in thought. His mind was elsewhere.

It had been weeks since he'd last seen his lover, (Y/N).

(Y/N), a man who once was his silent shelter against the world's noise, his refuge. A touch from him, his smile, or even a look into his eyes were capable of drawing Kaiser from all turmoil within himself back into a tranquil lake. From the moment he began with nothing, the beginning, in itself-he'd seen him work so hard and struggle. And all through it, during every fall and after, even at moments when he'd wonder what everything was about, he'd have Y/N beside him.

But he wasn't here now.

The argument was still echoing in Kaiser's ears, louder than the cheers surrounding him. It had happened a week before the semifinals, a time when they should have been celebrating one of his biggest wins; instead, they were at each other's throats, saying words sharper than they wanted to.

"You're never here, Kaiser," Y/N had said shaking. "You keep talking of the future, about 'one day,' yet it's the same. Constantly football and always something big and more important than me. You just don't see me in that future you are talking of."

"That's not fair," Kaiser had snapped, on the defense. "You knew what this was about when you began dating me. This is my dream, (Y/N). You should get that. You more than anyone else should understand!"

"I get it!" Y/N had shouted, tears welled in his eyes. "But what about my dreams? What about us? What about my feelings? Are we just something you fit in in the cracks between the matches and training sessions?"

 

Kaiser had gone quiet, unable to answer.

"I can't keep doing this," he'd murmured, the anger sizzling out into exhaustion. "I can't keep being your second choice. I can't keep being the one you seek only when you're not shining on the field."

Kaiser wanted to say something-he really wanted to assure (Y/N) that things would be different, that things would change. But the words got caught in his throat, entangled in a truth he couldn't face. Football did come first. It had to. It was his dream, after all. A part of his everything.

(Y/N) had walked away that night, his absence louder than anything he could have said.

Now, sitting in the locker room, Kaiser felt that absence weighing down on him like a rock. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the unanswered texts he had sent to him. Each one was a little more desperate than the last.

Please, talk to me.

I didn't mean for it to be like this.

I need you, (Y/N).

But (Y/N) didn't answer.

A hand clapped Kaiser on the shoulder, jerking him back to the present. It was Noel Noa. "Press is waiting for you, Kaiser."

Kaiser nodded slowly, still in a haze. Standing up and plastering on a smile that felt fake, he went to talk to them. Everything felt like a lie today.

The press conference was a blur as reporters bombarded him with questions about his goal, the team's strategy, and his future. Kaiser answered like a robot, his mind elsewhere, somewhere with Y/N.

Later, standing alone in the parking lot, the night was eerily quiet. It was almost like the world was taunting his loud mind. He made one last call. It rang endlessly, and just when Kaiser thought it would go to voicemail again, (Y/N) finally answered.

“Kaiser,” (Y/N)’s voice sounded tired and distant.

“I won,” Kaiser said, his voice shaky. “We’re heading to the finals.”

There was an uneasy silence that lasted for what felt like hours. "Congratulations" a soft reply was muttered by (Y/N).

Kaiser's eyes screwed shut because this pain he was feeling had very almost reached its maximum threshold. "I wish you were here."

"I cannot be," responded Y/N. "I can't keep looking at you when you're not even gazing at me."

Kaiser's throat lumped. "It's not like this; to me, you're everything."

"But not enough," he cut in. "Not enough to be first for you. Maybe we weren't meant to be after all."

Kaiser was wordless. "I hope you win," (Y/N) said with a soft tone, and the call ended.

The silence hung between them, heavy and final.

He was there for quite a while-the stadium sounds diminished, the ache in his chest not going away, reminding him of what he'd lost.

Kaiser lowered his phone, staring at the screen as if it could somehow bring back Y/N. But it didn't.

In the end, Kaiser had chosen football. And it had cost him the one thing he could never get back.

And maybe, maybe after all Y/N was a part of his everything, but it was too late.

- 𝐊𝐒

[adumbratrapedme]

Suna x reader | teen pregnancy. pt 1 the news.

Synopsis. a teen pregnancy storie between suna and a reader.

wc. idk | genre. angst to fluff |cw/tags. angst to fluff, teen pregnancy mentions, etc. reader is the twins younger sistah

teen pregnancy series masterlist here!

General headcanons

╭⋅First. You are the miya's younger sister... and somehow you ended in this fwb relationship with suna... their best friend... ╭⋅Once you tell him the reason why you avoided him Suna gets hitted with a mix of shock, guilt, and confusion. ╭⋅He replays every conversation you’ve had in his mind, especially the ones where he pushed you away emotionally. The realization that you might have been going through this alone eats at him. ╭⋅Despite his initial shock, Suna finds himself wanting to take responsibility. He starts showing up at your house under the guise of “visiting Atsumu and Osamu” but sneaks moments to check on you. ╭⋅When the twins eventually discover the truth (that suna is the dad), all hell breaks loose. Atsumu is furious, yelling at Suna for “ruining” their sister’s life, while Osamu takes a quieter but no less intimidating approach, asking Suna how he plans to fix things. ╭⋅After their initial shock they never let Suna or you live it down. Every family dinner comes with a new round of jokes, like Osamu calling Suna “Dadtarō” or Atsumu making fake baby crying noises whenever Suna walks in. ╭⋅There's going to be moments where Suna feels like he’s not enough for you, and you wonder if you made a mistake trusting him. ╭⋅Despite this you guys aren't "oficially" dating (for now mahwhawah)

Suna Rintarō never intended to get too close to Miya Y/N. She was Atsumu and Osamu’s younger sister—off-limits, complicated, and, most importantly, a distraction. Or at least, that’s what he told himself. They were just friends with benefits, nothing more. He’d even told her as much, keeping things casual and detached.

But lately, Y/N had been distant. She stopped texting him late at night, stopped meeting him in the usual places, and, most confusingly, she stopped even looking at him in the hallway. At first, he told himself it didn’t matter. If she wanted to stop, she’d stop. But as days turned into weeks, Suna couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling in his chest every time he passed her and she turned away, tears glistening in her eyes.

Everything came to a head during volleyball practice when Atsumu and Osamu’s voices carried across the gym.

“She’s been crying nonstop,” Atsumu muttered, frustration clear in his tone. “I don’t get it. She won’t tell us what’s wrong.”

“Maybe it’s school stress?” Osamu offered, but even he sounded doubtful. “I haven’t seen her eat much either. She’s been holed up in her room.”

After practice, Suna cornered Y/N outside the school gates. She flinched when she saw him, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he demanded, his voice sharper than he intended.

Her eyes filled with tears, and she bit her lip, trying to keep them from falling. “You told me this wasn’t serious,” she whispered. “You said you didn’t want anything more, why are you here?"

“I—” Suna faltered. He had said that. But now, seeing her so broken, he wasn’t sure if he’d meant it.

“it's none of your business rintaro” she said, her voice cracking. “Bye.” she said running away.

For the first time in his life, Suna Rintarō was speechless.

A few days later during lunch break Suna sat with the Miya twins, half-listening to their usual banter as he picked at his food. The conversation shifted when Atsumu let out a frustrated sigh.

“Y/n's been acting weird lately,” Atsumu grumbled, shoving a piece of rice into his mouth.

Suna’s hand paused mid-air, chopsticks hovering over his bento. He forced himself to look disinterested, even though his chest tightened.

“What do you mean?” Suna asked, keeping his tone casual.

“She’s pregnant,” Atsumu said bluntly, earning a glare from Osamu.

“Oi, don’t just say it like that!” Osamu snapped. “But yeah. She told us a few days ago.”

Suna’s heart dropped. He stared at his food, trying to keep his expression neutral, but his hand tightened around his chopsticks.

“Do you know who the guy is?” Suna asked, hating how his voice sounded strained.

The twins shook their heads.

“No clue,” Atsumu admitted, scowling. “She won’t say. But when I find out who the bastard is, he’s dead.”

“Real dead,” Osamu agreed, his tone cold. “Leaving her to deal with it on her own? Coward.”

Suna swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“She’s been crying a lot,” Atsumu muttered, his anger fading into something softer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this. She’s holed up in her room all the time, barely eats... It’s hard to watch, y’know?”

Osamu nodded. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do to help. We’re her brothers, but she won’t talk to us.”

Suna’s chest ached. The image of Y/N crying alone, carrying the weight of this all by herself, was too much. He thought back to the last time they’d been together, the way she’d looked at him like she wanted to say something but stopped herself.

“Maybe she just needs time,” Suna said quietly, barely able to meet their eyes.

During lunch break one day, Suna sat with the Miya twins, half-listening to their usual banter as he picked at his food. The conversation shifted when Atsumu let out a frustrated sigh.

“Our little sister’s been acting weird lately,” Atsumu grumbled, shoving a piece of rice into his mouth.

Suna’s hand paused mid-air, chopsticks hovering over his bento. He forced himself to look disinterested, even though his chest tightened.

“What do you mean?” Suna asked, keeping his tone casual.

“She’s pregnant,” Osamu said bluntly, earning a glare from Atsumu.

“Oi, don’t just say it like that!” Atsumu snapped. “But yeah. She told us a few weeks ago.”

Suna’s heart dropped. He stared at his food, trying to keep his expression neutral, but his hand tightened around his chopsticks.

“Do you know who the guy is?” Suna asked, hating how his voice sounded strained.

The twins shook their heads.

“No clue,” Atsumu admitted, scowling. “She won’t say. But when I find out who the bastard is, he’s dead.”

“Real dead,” Osamu agreed, his tone cold. “Leaving her to deal with it on her own? Coward.”

Suna swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“She’s been crying a lot,” Atsumu muttered, his anger fading into something softer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this. She’s holed up in her room all the time, barely eats... It’s hard to watch, y’know?”

Osamu nodded. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do to help. We’re her brothers, but she won’t talk to us.”

Suna’s chest ached. The image of Y/N crying alone, carrying the weight of this all by herself, was too much. He thought back to the last time they’d been together, the way she’d looked at him like she wanted to say something but stopped herself.

“Maybe she just needs time,” Suna said quietly, barely able to meet their eyes.

During lunch break one day, Suna sat with the Miya twins, half-listening to their usual banter as he picked at his food. The conversation shifted when Atsumu let out a frustrated sigh.

“Our little sister’s been acting weird lately,” Atsumu grumbled, shoving a piece of rice into his mouth.

Suna’s hand paused mid-air, chopsticks hovering over his bento. He forced himself to look disinterested, even though his chest tightened.

“What do you mean?” Suna asked, keeping his tone casual.

“She’s pregnant,” Osamu said bluntly, earning a glare from Atsumu.

“Oi, don’t just say it like that!” Atsumu snapped. “But yeah. She told us a few weeks ago.”

Suna’s heart dropped. He stared at his food, trying to keep his expression neutral, but his hand tightened around his chopsticks.

“Do you know who the guy is?” Suna asked, hating how his voice sounded strained.

The twins shook their heads.

“No clue,” Atsumu admitted, scowling. “She won’t say. But when I find out who the bastard is, he’s dead.”

“Real dead,” Osamu agreed, his tone cold. “Leaving her to deal with it on her own? Coward.”

Suna swallowed hard, his throat dry.

“She’s been crying a lot,” Atsumu muttered, his anger fading into something softer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this. She’s holed up in her room all the time, barely eats... It’s hard to watch, y’know?”

Osamu nodded. “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do to help. We’re her brothers, but she won’t talk to us.”

Suna’s chest ached. The image of Y/N crying alone, carrying the weight of this all by herself, was too much. He thought back to the last time they’d been together, the way she’d looked at him like she wanted to say something but stopped herself.

“Maybe she just needs time,” Suna said quietly, barely able to meet their eyes.

Suna couldn’t focus during practice. The twins’ words echoed in his head, and every spike he missed earned him a sharp glare from Coach. Afterwards, instead of heading home, he waited near the school gates, hoping Y/N would pass by.

When she finally appeared, her eyes widened at the sight of him. She looked tired—dark circles under her eyes, her shoulders hunched like the weight of the world rested on them.

“Y/N,” Suna called, stepping toward her.

She froze, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach. “What do you want?”

He hesitated, his usual calm demeanor crumbling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“You’re pregnant,” he said, his voice low. “Why didn’t you tell me it was mine?”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she shook her head. “Because you said you didn’t want anything serious,” she whispered. “I thought you’d hate me if I told you.”

Suna felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He’d been so focused on keeping his distance, so afraid of letting her get too close, that he hadn’t realized how much damage he’d done.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft, “I'm an idiot. I... I never meant to hurt you. But please, let me help.”

She hesitated, searching his face for sincerity. “I don’t know if I can trust you,” she admitted.

Suna nodded, accepting her words. “That’s fair. But I’ll prove it to you. I’m not going anywhere.”

EXTRA;

It was a Saturday evening, and the Miya household was unusually quiet. Atsumu and Osamu sat in the living room, bickering over who had eaten the last onigiri from the fridge. Y/N sat nervously on the couch, glancing at Suna, who stood by the door like he was ready to bolt at any second.

“Are ya gonna tell us why you dragged us all here?” Atsumu asked, leaning back and tossing a pillow at Osamu, who caught it without looking.

“Yeah, if this is about Y/N, just spit it out already,” Osamu added, his tone sharper. “We’ve been worried sick, y’know.”

Y/N fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie, her heart pounding. Suna, sensing her hesitation, cleared his throat.

“It’s about the baby,” Suna started, his usual calm façade cracking as the twins’ attention snapped to him.

Atsumu narrowed his eyes. “What about it?”

Suna glanced at Y/N, silently asking for permission. She nodded, her face pale. “It’s mine,” Suna said bluntly, his voice steady but his hands stuffed into his pockets to hide his nervousness.

The room went silent. Too silent.

Then—

“WHAT?!” Atsumu exploded, jumping to his feet. “Yer kiddin’, right? This is some kinda joke, yeah? A sick joke! Osamu, tell me he’s joking!”

Osamu blinked, his usual calm demeanor slipping as he processed the bombshell. “Wait... you’re the one who—” He pointed at Suna, then at Y/N, then back at Suna, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Calm down,” Suna said, raising his hands defensively. “I’m serious. I’m the father.”

“You?” Atsumu screeched. “Of all people, you?!” He looked genuinely offended, like Suna being the father was a personal insult.

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?” Suna deadpanned, his eyebrow twitching.

“It means yer a lazy, sneaky little punk who can’t even take volleyball practice or relationships seriously half the time!” Atsumu shot back.

Osamu finally snapped out of his daze, leaning forward with a smirk. “Hold on. Does this mean you two were... y’know...”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Don’t say it, Osamu.”

“Together,” Osamu finished, drawing out the word with a mischievous grin.

Atsumu gagged dramatically. “Gross. I don’t wanna think about that!”

“None of us do,” Y/N muttered, her face burning.

Suna rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Look, I’m here now, okay? I’m taking responsibility. You can yell at me all you want, but I’m not going anywhere.”

The twins exchanged a look, their expressions unreadable.

Finally, Osamu shrugged. “Well, at least he’s owning up to it.”

“Yeah, but it’s Suna,” Atsumu whined. “Our little sister deserves better than that!”

“Oi,” Suna muttered, annoyed.

“Shut it, Rintarō. We’re not done with you,” Atsumu said, jabbing a finger in his direction. “If ya mess this up—if ya hurt her even a little—I swear, I’ll make ya regret it.”

Osamu nodded in agreement. “We know where you live.”

Suna sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Overprotective big brothers and all that.”

Y/N finally looked up, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the tension. “Guys... thank you. For caring. But I can handle this. And Suna’s... here.”

“here,” Atsumu muttered under his breath. “That’s the bare minimum, but fine. For now.”

Osamu stood up, patting Suna on the shoulder with a little too much force. “Welcome to the family, I guess. Don’t screw it up.”

Suna gave him a flat look. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Yer lucky she likes ya,” Atsumu grumbled, collapsing back onto the couch. “I still don’t get it, though. What does she see in ya?”

“Guess I’m just irresistible,” Suna deadpanned, earning a pillow to the face.

TAGLIST:

@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101 @starykari @staygoldsquatchling02 @alpha-mommy69

if you want to be part of the taglist you can always DM me or coment! <3 tysm for ur support guysehehrbe

ngl y'all im having a hard time when making the first part for every character cuz i dont want to be repetitive on "oh you guys are a couple, sex, bAM BABY" or "you guys are friens with benefits, BAM, SEX, BABY!" yk?? so huh yeah-

[writingduhh]

Ok last one (for tonight😈)

Having a planned date night with Ted that goes wrong and you end up back at his or your apartment (or shared) and he comes up with a cute last minute date inside the apartment and he’s so sweet

So sweet omg

Plan B(etter)

The night had started off like a dream. Ted had been hyping up your date all week, dropping hints about reservations at “the fanciest spot in town” and a “fun and romantic surprise after.” By the time the day arrived, your excitement was through the roof.

You dressed to the nines, carefully choosing your best outfit, ready to wow Ted and see him looking sharp in return. As you finished the final touches in the mirror you couldn’t help but wonder what his reaction would be.

When you stepped out his jaw practically hit the floor.

“Wow” he said, voice barely above a whisper as his eyes swept over you. “You look... incredible. Like, seriously. I’m dating a movie star, apparently.”

Heat crept up your cheeks at the way he stared, his awe so sincere it made your heart flutter. “You clean up pretty nice yourself” you teased, smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle in his blazer.

“Not even close to how good you look,” Ted said, grinning as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Let’s make this the best night ever.”

At least, that was the plan.

By the time you were standing outside the restaurant, it was clear things weren’t going as planned.

“Lost the reservation?” Ted asked the host, his eyebrows climbing into his hairline. “Like, poof? Gone? Vaporized into thin air?”

The host offered an apologetic smile, but you placed a gentle hand on Ted’s arm before he could keep going. “It’s okay,” you said softly. “We’ll find somewhere else.”

Ted gave you a determined nod, pulling out his phone. “Right. No big deal. We’re not letting this little hiccup ruin the night.”

But then the next restaurant was packed with a two-hour wait, and before you could decide what to do next a storm rolled in. Ted, ever the optimist, suggested grabbing coffee and taking a stroll by the river. But the rain turned torrential. You both ended up sprinting back to his car, soaked to the bone and laughing through the chaos.

Now standing in the entryway of your shared apartment your clothes clung uncomfortably to your skin, makeup smudged, and your shoes let out an embarrassing squelch with every step. Ted sighed, running a hand through his messy hair as he shut the door behind you.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice heavy with guilt. “I wanted tonight to be perfect, and instead, it’s been a total disaster.”

You stepped closer, resting a hand on his chest. “Ted, it’s fine. Really. Plans don’t matter. We’re together. That’s what counts.”

He smiled a little, though his brow was still furrowed. Suddenly his face lit up like he’d just had the best idea ever. “Okay,” he said, standing straighter. “Give me ten minutes. Don’t ask any questions just trust me.”

Before you could protest he disappeared around the corner. Moments later he returned, holding up a dry sweatshirt and a pair of his flannel pajama pants. “Here,” he said, tossing them to you. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes. Go get comfy.”

You caught the bundle, already smiling at the thoughtfulness in his voice. “Thanks, Ted,” you said, heading to the bedroom.

Once changed, you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight in the mirror. His sweatshirt was several sizes too big, the sleeves dangling past your hands, and the pants bunched up around your ankles. You adjusted the oversized fabric, feeling oddly cozy and comforted by the lingering scent of him.

When you returned to the living room, Ted’s reaction was instantaneous. His eyes widened, and his grin stretched so wide it made your cheeks flush.

“Well, would you look at you!” he said, leaning casually against the kitchen doorway. “You look so tiny and cute in my clothes. I can’t handle it.”

You laughed, tugging at the oversized sleeves. “Oh shut up.” You teased. “They’re a bit big, huh?”

“A bit?” he teased, walking over to gently tug at the sweatshirt’s sleeve. “You’re practically swimming in them, and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth in your chest betrayed your attempt to play it cool. “Well, don’t expect to get these back. They’re mine now.”

Ted sighed dramatically, crossing his arms. “I guess I can’t complain. You wearing my clothes is basically a walking advertisement for how great my taste is.”

“Oh, is that so?” you replied, laughing as you made your way to the couch.

“Absolutely,” he said, following you with a playful glint in his eye. “And bonus points for being the hottest model I could ever ask for.”

Once you were settled under a blanket Ted revealed his secret plan: a tray loaded with mugs of hot chocolate, a bowl of popcorn, and an assortment of snacks scavenged from the kitchen.

“Plan B,” he announced with a proud grin. “We eat junk food, watch Shrek, and I spend the rest of the night reminding you how much I adore you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, taking the mug of hot chocolate from him. “You really have a way of turning a mess into something perfect, don’t you?”

He shrugged, leaning into you as he pulled the blanket tighter around both of you. “What can I say? I’m good at making lemonade out of lemons. Or in this case, making rainy nights into cozy ones.” A smug grin on his lips.

As you sipped your drink and leaned against him, you realized that while the evening hadn’t gone to plan. But with Ted by your side, it was better than perfect.

[more-sonorous]

Idk if someone has already asked you, but favorite Jack and davey headcanons????

mmmm i love this :D i have so so so so so many headcanons for them so i'm gonna try my best to narrow it down lmfaooo

overall

jack never stops drawing davey. he's obsessed. he'll fill sketchbooks with the most mundane things about this boy because he finds him so impossibly pretty

davey is taller, and jack pulls him down into kisses. be it by the tie, the collar of his shirt or his hair-- jack doesn't do tiptoes. davey also loves dropping kisses onto jack's forehead.

davey loves jack's hands. could stare at them all day. he's always wanting to hold them or run his own fingers over the callouses, or rub the constant streaks of paint off-- jack's hands are constantly on his mind

jack could listen to davey read for hours on end and never get tired. there's something about davey's voice, how soft and soothing it is, maybe, that's unfairly addicting. he'll listen to davey read anything, sometimes not even registering the plot in favor of listening to the rise and fall of davey's voice

davey wasn't touchy until he met jack. then he was like 'oh maybe physical touch does make sense as a love language' and there was no going back. they're sort of always touching, whether it's just their pinkies brushing or they're sitting on top of each other. jack's favorite is keeping his hand in the back pocket of davey's jeans, and davey likes to walk with two fingers hooked in jack's belt loop.

davey kisses all of jack's scars whenever he gets the chance.

jack kisses davey's freckles in the same way, if he's not using them to draw constellations.

canon era

jack's always tugging davey around by the tie. there's no stopping him.

jack blows all of his meager spare change on green paints and pastels because he wants to get the color of davey's eyes just right

even though jack's technically catholic, he finds himself obsessively trying to learn everything about judaism to be closer with davey. he wants to understand everything about davey's traditions, and there's something about the way davey lights up with love and passion as he explains his religion that makes jack fall a little bit more in love every time.

modern era

jack steals all of davey's clothes and davey is powerless when it comes to stopping him (he even steals the sweaters that he complains are nerdy, and davey pretends to be annoyed, but the sight of jack in his clothes is just... yeah)

jack learns how to brew tea just for davey and davey teaches himself all of the recipes jack's mamá used to make, even if they're too spicy for him and he gets a runny nose every time he makes one for dinner

davey, a polyglot, did not know spanish when he met jack. jack, fluent in spanish and english and nothing else, wonders how the hell his boyfriend (who fluently speaks languages as difficult as yiddish and polish) doesn't know spanish and takes it upon himself to teach davey. davey is so enamored by the gentle way in which jack teaches that he doesn't tell jack that he picked up spanish fluently about three months after dating him. when jack finds out years later, hell is raised-- but then the happiness he gets from being able to speak his native language with the man he loves the most outweighs any overdramatic feelings of betrayal

can you believe that isn't even it? these are just my favorite ones i could come up with off the top of my head.

thank you so much for the ask oml <3