#it's okay. he loves me. he will never do that to me.

[parfaitblogs]

state of grace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your cat has taken liking to your friend with benefits, and you begin to battle with the consequential feelings. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff (18+ for suggestive content) tags: established friends with benefits. reader has a cat. your cat likes him more than you :(  avoidant!reader for like a teensie second. it's okay happy ending. the happiest possible ending actually. fade to black. word count: 1.9k a/n: sometimes the most beautiful poetry can be about simple things. like a cat. :) im a dog person. idk why i wrote this.

Seventeen times.

That is how many times Spencer Reid had found residence at your apartment in the past month alone, taking up the space on the other side of your bed. Thirteen of those times he had stayed the night. Six of those times, he had come for sex. The other eleven? He had come because you needed a friend. 

Or, rather, your cat did. 

You had discovered you weren't any more complex than your average man, at the end of the day. Human beings are at their core created to love and be loved, and by extension, to want and be wanted. You wanted Spencer, and you were wanted by Spencer. For both your friendship, and the intimacy your relationship provided. 

But you did not love him, and he did not love you. 

Cat's are anything but fickle creatures. A lot of your best friendships were centred around whether or not your cat developed a liking to the person or not. Oftentimes, your fleeting relationships came down to the odd sixth sense the animal had for disliking the worst people. That, and your one night stands were never a crowd favourite within the walls of your apartment. And yet; Spencer Reid. 

He was nothing short of charming. In a sort of dorky way, yes. But whatever socially romantic skills he lacked, he most certainly made up for by giving you the best of just about everything in bed. A small part of you wants to claim it's human instinct to know how to worship the person meant for you, but the logical reason is probably his eidetic memory knowing exactly what he's doing after a singular trial run. Entertaining the thought of being his soulmate was not a wise choice.

He most certainly was your cat's, though. The Ragdoll always jumping down to greet him the second he stepped foot in your apartment, usually resulting in the break of a kiss and a five minute intermission before the two of you could do anything. 

At first, it was an inconvenience. Your cat had never taken such a liking to a person you'd brought home before, and it was jarring to watch a man you were partially trying to undress, stop everything to pet your cat. Now, it is simply endearing. You've stopped trying to steal Spencer's attention before the cat does, and you've come to the conclusion that Spencer's priority list will always be the feline, then you. 

Today was, seemingly, no different. Despite the dull ache between your legs and the fact that this visit had started as something as obscene as Spencer calling from his work bathroom to ask if he could come over after for he was, and you quote, in dire need to touch you (among many other things), whatever those needs were, were put on hold. 

You smile regardless, leaning against the edge of your couch as he crouches down to meet Po — yes, like the panda — his hand immediately reaching out for the cat to run his head along. 

Spencer's head lifts to look at you. "Morgan thinks Po isn't a real cat, and we've just got a name for your—um—" his brain catches up to his mouth mid sentence, and he's stammering his way to silence. 

"Please tell me you defended my cat's honour," you retort.

"I did! I even showed him the photo I took of him while you were in the shower last week. He thinks it's a different person's cat."

You shake your head in disapproval. "Unbelievable. Your coworker thinks we've named my pussy."

"That's just Morgan."

"I wish Po could speak English. Then he could hear this nonsense, and stop loving you more than me," you grumble, and Spencer's lips twitch up into a smile, as he situates himself on the floor, the cat climbing into his lap.

"Actually, he technically can. Cat's can understand up to thirty-five words in whatever language you train them in. Also, when they meow, they begin trying to mimic the sound of certain human words. It's their vocal tract that prevents them from literally speaking English," he explains.

But, you're too invested in the way his long fingers are delicately running through the cat's hair, to both respond, and really pay any attention at all.

You had had fleeting thoughts about real feelings for Spencer two months ago. Brushing them off as loneliness and your need to satiate the hopeless romantic within you, you'd forgotten about it up until this recent week.

He'd been over every single day, sometimes for sex, oftentimes for a movie and dinner (which was usually a bowl of pasta you had overestimated while cooking). And every single time, you'd developed an overwhelming anxious pit in your stomach when watching him interact with Po, your heart fluttering the entire time, mind running rampant on domestic thoughts you should be squashing. 

Should be, but weren't. 

You'd tried to put it down to the motherly instinct you had over the animal. Seeing somebody else treat him with as much love and care as you did was endearing — it wasn't a Spencer Reid specific trait. Yet, here you were. 

"I feel like the benefits of this relationship have changed," you say, seating yourself in front of Spencer on the floor, Po lifting his head to look at the person behind the sudden movement, before he let it rest back on Spencer's thigh. 

"To what?"

"My cat," you huff, and Spencer laughs.

"He is my favourite benefit thus far," he muses. 

"The feeling is definitely mutual," you nod your head to Po, whose eyes were now shut, seemingly quite comfortable disregarding all your personal plans and taking Spencer's attention.

"Animals don't usually like me," he comments. "I don't know why Po is different."

Oh, you had a few ideas why.

"Maybe he's exercising the keep your enemies closer life motto," you offer, and Spencer's eyebrows shoot up in faux offence. 

"This is unadulterated love," he protests. "He does not think of me as an enemy."

"That's what he wants you to believe," you hum, pushing yourself up on your legs. "Well, since plans have been rudely interrupted, do you want some dinner?" 

"Sure," he answers, though his attention is back on Po. Clearly so, for he says, "I'll get to our original plans after we eat, don't worry," almost absentmindedly.

It's the kind of thing that makes you forget you're in the room with the dictionary definition of a nerd. You know it's only because sometimes he says what he is thinking without thinking. It doesn't do anything to help the ongoing internal battle about your feelings for him. 

Or maybe he does know exactly what he's doing.

"You should get a cat," you say, heading into your kitchen to find something for the two of you to eat. "You seem to like them enough."

"Why? I have yours."

"I'm not going to be around forever," you reply, unthinking. "I mean, one day we're gonna have to end this because the other has found someone they want to be with. Properly. It wouldn't be fair to keep a friendship."

He falls silent, and when you lift your head, you see he's staring at you with an almost confused frown on his face, which triggers your own confusion to appear. His scratching of Po's head has been interrupted, and you're starting to question what was wrong about what you had said. 

Sure, you're pretty sure you have feelings for him, but as far as you knew, they were one sided. Right?

"I didn't—I thought—" he cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, then continues. "I thought that had changed this past month."

"What do you mean?"

"I just—I've been here for things other than sex a lot. I thought you knew I liked you, and you were subtly trying to tell me you liked me too. I'm starting to sense I misread that."

For a profiler, he was incredibly awful at reading you. 

"Yeah..." You slowly nod your head, but it's the deepening of his frown that has you rushing to add, "I mean, I—I do. Like you. I'm kind of embarrassed that was obvious. But I didn't think you liked me outside of having sex with me. I wasn't trying to communicate my feelings. I was trying to hide them."

"Oh," he falls silent again. "So the times I’ve been here in the past month weren’t makeshift dates?"

"They weren't intended that way..." you trail off. "Did you see them as dates?"

"Kind of, I guess," he's back to running his fingers through Po's fur, just to keep his anxious hands busy. "They don't have to be, if you don't want them to. I just thought this feeling was mutual and we were... I guess, dating."

"The feeling is mutual," you quickly correct him. "I know that now. I didn't think we were dating because I didn't think you liked me back. Changing our relationship kind of needs to be a conversation."

"Right," he breathes out, an awkward smile painting his lips. "Is this the conversation, then?"

"I guess?"

"So now we're dating."

"If that's what you want," you nod, head feeling a little fuzzy.

"Is it what you want?" he presses. Always the gentleman.

"Maybe," you muse, leaning forwards against the kitchen countertop. 

He's watching you, and for a second you let the silence fall over you, fearful that you've just discouraged him enough to ruin things between you. He carefully takes Po off his lap, the cat running into your room the second his paws hit the hardwood floor, and he's standing up to move over to you. 

"I don't like maybe," he frowns. "Yes or no?"

You blink, realising he was evidently too anxious of your genuine response to have any recognition to your poor attempt of a joke. 

"Yes, Spencer. That's what I want," you're breathless as you speak, and you're thankful for the relieved smile that stretches across his lips.

"That's what I want too," he answers. 

"Yeah, I figured." Your second attempt at a tease lands, and he huffs a small laugh, which warms your heart. "Do you still want dinner?"

He had somehow gotten closer to you throughout the awkward enough conversation, and he was sliding his arms around your waist. Something he had done many times before, yes, and yet this time it was feeling much more intimate, and your heart was thrumming against your chest a little harder than usual. 

"Maybe it can wait?" he offers, ducking his head down, lips ghosting over your own. "I don't have a bothersome cat keeping me preoccupied from you, now."

Despite yourself, you poke a finger into his chest and say, "Don't insult Po."

"I'm not. Just merely stating an obvious fact."

"I'll call him back in here to preoccupy me."

"He has selective hearing. And he likes me more than you."

Your lips drop into a frown, lower lip jutting out, and Spencer is quick to try and kiss it off within seconds of noticing it. 

"I'm sorry. That was mean. I promise he doesn't like me more than you," he says, though his voice is too amused to be entirely sincere. 

"That was mean," you agree with a firm nod. "You're very mean to me, Spencer Reid."

"I know, I'm awful. Can I make it up to you, sweet girl?"

Well, when he asks you like that.

"Mm..." you hesitate, but he's already guiding you around, walking you backwards, through your apartment and towards your bedroom. "Yeah, I guess so."

Hands that were around your waist hike your shirt up, his lips still kissing against your skin despite the intense multitasking he was forcing upon the two of you.

"Thank you."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[whytheylosttheirminds]

happy birthday, baby (part one: birthday girl)

(boyfriend!rafe x girlfriend!reader two-shot)

summary it's your first birthday as rafe's girlfriend, and he's desperate to show you just how special you are to him...

content fluff! smut! 18+ minors do not interact!

-----------------ꪆৎ‎---------------------

“It’s too much, Rafe!”

The pile of presents in front of you is outrageous. Bows and bags and big, meticulously wrapped packages.

“Never too much for my girl,” he stands back, beaming as he watches you take in the display with your mouth agape.

“I don’t even know which one to open first,” you muse.

“Any of ‘em. Just not,” he steps forward and plucks one bag from the pile, “this one. This one’s for last.”

You eye him suspiciously as he sets the bag on the kitchen counter, out of reach. 

“What surprises do you have planned, Cameron?”

“If I told you,” he smiles, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso, “then they wouldn’t be surprises. Now pick a present or we’re gonna be here all day.”

“Excuse me, I will not be rushed on my birthday,” you say defiantly.

“Not rushing you,” he drops a kiss on your shoulder, “just got a lot of shit planned for ya, I don’t want to waste any time,” he clarifies.

“There’s more?” You turn in his grasp, eyes wide.

He’d already woken you up with breakfast in bed, and an adorably off-key, groggy voiced rendition of ‘Happy Birthday.’ His bedroom was full of flowers and balloons, including two big pink ones displaying your new age. After you ate the fluffiest pancakes you’d ever had in your life, he slipped a heavy diamond necklace around your neck, kissing your shoulders as he clasped it. Giving him a million thank you kisses, you told him you loved your present, and he chuckled, leading you to the kitchen to the mountain of additional presents you’re now ogling.

“So much more. I’ve got a whole day planned for you, so let’s get to it,” he said with a quick tap on your ass, making you giggle.

“Okay, okay! I want…that one,” you point to the largest package in the back of the pile, “‘cause it’s big.”

“Huh, where have I heard that before?” He pretends to think, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

You roll your eyes, shoving him back by his shoulder and scoffing, “you’re on another one today, I swear.”

“Just excited to celebrate you,” he grins, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before pulling the biggest present out of the pile.

You sit in one of his dining chairs, opening present after present, each one delighting you more than the last. Flashy and expensive; a new bag, two pairs of shoes that have been on your wishlist forever, jewelry until you’re dripping in diamonds and precious gems. Sweet and sentimental; a printed album of all your instagram posts since the two of you got together almost a year ago, a gold ring engraved with a handwritten message, a crystal picture frame with a shot of the two of you on his boat at sunset. 

You wonder if it’s possible for your heart to actually burst from affection.

When only one present remains, you eye the counter quizzically, waiting for him to bring you the little bag he had set aside. Rafe just makes himself busy picking up the discarded ribbons and wrapping paper, a little blush on his face as he focuses on the chore.

“Rafe…” you try to get his attention.

“Yeah?” He leans down to pick up a bow that had fallen under the table, when he stands, you step in front of him, grabbing the trash from his hands and setting it to the side. 

“I want my last present please,” you smile, hands cupped in front of you expectantly.

He scratches the top of his buzzed head, taking a deep breath, “why don’t we wait? I booked you a spa appointment so you should probably get ready…”

“Rafe,” you cross your arms over your chest, “why are you being all squirmy?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t know if you’ll like it, I don’t want you to think…anything.”

You had no idea what he meant by ‘think anything,’ but this whole you not liking something he took the time to pick out for you business was just nonsense. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stood up on your tiptoes to place a soft, steady kiss on his lips. 

“Well I do know. I’m gonna love it, because you got it for me, and I love you,” you ease his worry.

You had told each other you loved each other for the first time a little over a month ago, but it still feels like fireworks everytime one of you says it. Nothing in life is sweeter than the sound of his quick, reassuring “love ya” before hanging up the phone, or his whispered, emotional “I love you so much,” when he’s buried inside you late at night.

“I love you too,” he grins.

“Good,” you place one more kiss on his lips, “then I would like my last present now, please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smirks, walking you toward the kitchen, kissing you all the way as he backs you up step by step.

By the time you reach the kitchen island, you’ve almost forgotten about the striped gift bag waiting for you there, distracted by his lips and the cute little smooches they’re making against your mouth with each step.

He reaches back for the bag without pulling away, holding it behind his back as he ducks down for one last peck before swinging it forward and presenting it to you.

“We can take it back if you don’t li-” you silence him with a finger to his lips.

“Shhh, it’s my last present of the day, let me enjoy this,” you request.

He nods solemnly, waiting until you were looking away, too distracted by the tissue paper in the bag to see the smirk growing on his lips as he thought about his actual last present for you. A rush of nerves shoot through him as he pictures the little black velvet pouch sitting in his nightstand drawer. 

Obeying your request, he bites his tongue as you pull out the rest of the tissue paper. When you finally see what’s sitting in the bag, a slow, delighted smile spreads across your face. You don’t pull the gift out, just bite your lip as you blink up at him through your lashes. His cheeks are adorably pink. 

He’s never bought you lingerie before. He’s seen you in plenty of it, though. Hell, he cleared a whole drawer for you like a month after you started dating, telling you to take as much space as you needed as long as he was the only one who got to see you in it. But the thought of him actually going into the store and asking the sales lady for exactly what he wanted to see you in, surely pulling out his black card and telling her the price tag was not an issue, made your belly tighten with lust.

“Ah I see,” you smirk, “it’s a present for me and for you.”

He nods with a lick of his lips, “you gonna try it on for me?”

You lead him to the chair you were sitting in to open presents, guiding him to sit and placing one more kiss on his cheek before excitedly padding to the bedroom to get changed. He watches you go with his tongue pressed into his cheek, readying himself, wondering how the fuck someone like him got lucky enough to be with someone like you.

Rafe had picked out the cutest little set for you. Matching floral bra and panties, sheer and constructed with hardly any fabric at all, a matching garter belt and thigh high sheer stockings. You gasp when you see the price tag, understanding now why the fabric feels so nice and the stitching is so intricate. 

You take your time pulling it on, both to be gentle with the expensive pieces and to tease the man waiting for you in the other room. The thought of him squirming in that chair wondering what the hell was taking so long makes you giggle.

“The fuck are you laughing about in there?” He calls out impatiently from the other room. “You’re killin’ me!” 

You laugh hard at that, head falling back in delight as you clip the last strap of the garter into place. You add a pair of kitten heels to tie it all together and run your fingers through your hair, one quick look in the mirror to appreciate yourself before stepping slowly from the room.

“Sorry to make you wait, baby,” you tilt your head apologetically and step towards him tauntingly. 

Rafe just smiles and looks to the ceiling, shaking his head slowly in disbelief.

“What?” You ask as you approach, hands finding his and bringing them to rest on either side of your waist.

His thumbs trace circles into your skin, “just don’t know how I got so fuckin’ lucky. Must’ve done something right in a past life.”

Your skin goes hot at his words, and the way his eyes are skimming over your body like you’re the eighth wonder of the world.

“Nah, I think you just did a lot of things right in this life,” you pull his arms so he’ll rise to his feet.

Rafe lifts his arm with his hand still holding yours, spinning you with his pointer finger like a ballerina, memorizing every inch of you as you twirl for him.

“No man could possibly be good enough to deserve you, baby,” he responds, his large, rough hands running over your bare hips, guiding you to hop up and wrap your legs around his waist. “I’m just the luckiest guy in the world.”

You kiss him, too overwhelmed by the way he’s looking at you and holding you up to say anything in response. No one has ever made you feel so special, so wanted. He’d kneel down and kiss your feet if you asked him to. But that’s not what you want right now.

“Need you, Rafe,” you mumble against his lips, legs squeezing him tighter, hands splayed on the back of his head like you’re trying to permanently seal his mouth to yours, “please.”

“You don’t gotta beg, angel,” he coos, “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Cause it’s my birthday?” You tease.

“No. I’ll give you anything you want every day of your fucking life,” he swears, “you deserve the world.”

But you don’t want the world, you just want him.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you sigh, lowering your core over his growing hardness, playfulness gone and replaced by frenzied need.

In response, he shifts to hold you up with one arm, using the other to sweep aggressively at the counter and knock all its contents to the floor chaotically. You love him wild like this, complete disregard for the dishes and various items he’s just sent flying across the kitchen, too drunk on you to even attempt making it to the bedroom. 

He drops you onto the counter, not too hard to hurt, but just hard enough to make your tits bounce and a little “hmph!” to rise from your chest. You’re pulling him to you in seconds, nails clawing at his shoulders and the back of his head as his lips devour yours. He slots his hips between your knees, forcing your legs to fall open for him.

“Gonna make you feel so good, birthday girl,” he promises, chest hovering over you powerfully, lowering you slowly until you’re laying down on the counter, your legs dangling off the edge. 

He kisses down the column of your throat, nipping and nibbling all the way as he hooks his fingers to slip under the straps of the garter belt, pulling until the clasps break away from the top of your stockings with a snap!

You gasp, “you’re gonna break my present!”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he shakes his head, bent in half to lower his mouth down your body, sucking purple splotches into the sensitive skin of your stomach, claiming you with every mark.

When he’s satisfied with his artwork, he lifts himself up, piercing blue eyes consuming you with an adoration you’ve never experienced before. You writhe a little under his hungry gaze, and his eyes wander to the panties he gifted you, corners of his mouth perking in a grin. His hand snakes up your thigh and he sweeps his thumb over your covered slit without warning, making you gasp and arch off the cold counter.

“Looks like you already made a mess of your present anyway,” his eyes twinkle with mischief as he spreads your wetness through the fabric.

“Can’t help it,” you whine under the pressure, “you always make me so fucking wet.”

He’s desperate to taste you, lowering to his knees and dragging your panties down with him. Gripping your hips, he pulls you to the edge of the counter, closer to his mouth. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the sting outweighed by the pleasure. 

You arch toward him, desperate to feel his mouth on you, but his fingers find you first. He spreads you, groaning a strained ‘fuckkkk’ at the sight. He gathers your slick onto his fingers so slowly, so deliberately, it’s driving you insane. 

Finally, finally, he lowers his mouth and licks, ever so gently, up your center. You’re on fire, the cold marble counter below you doing little to cool your spiked body temperature. 

Between deliberate licks he whispers praises, his tongue and voice taking turns worshiping you.

“Do you know I belong to you?” He confesses, his other hand gripping the edge of the counter so hard it almost cracks. “Do you understand that you fucking own me?”

“You talk so pretty, baby,” you moan, losing your grasp on language as he sends lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through your body, “love that mouth.”

“It’s yours,” he promises, finally lapping at your clit with a pointed tongue, “it’s all yours, everything I’ve got.”

“Just want you!” you cry out when he pulls the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucks hard.

“You have me, ‘m not going anywhere,” he says after releasing your clit with a pop. His middle finger, already soaked from you, dips into your entrance slowly. “You’re my everything, forever.”

Rafe continues to wrap you in soliloquies of praise as his other hand kneads the skin of your stomach reverently, like a potter molding his clay.

It’s these promises that make your head spin, drowning in the tapestry he weaves with his words until all you can think, all you know, is that you love him. When a second finger enters you and his mouth finds the spot he knows so well, everything in the world fades. The only thing that means anything is this man and the way he makes you feel.

His fingers twist and twirl inside you while his mouth works your clit. You’re beside yourself, feeling your release creep closer and closer with each flick of his tongue. You grab the edge of the counter top for purchase, but it’s not enough. Your hands paw at his head, wishing there was something more to ground you. 

You love his buzzcut, you had an appointment in your shared calendar each month for him to dutifully sit on a stool in the bathroom while you redid it with the electric clippers, but in this moment you wish for the first time that he’d grow it out. You tuck the thought away for later.

He loves the way you’re clawing at his scalp, and clenching around his fingers, knowing you’re close like he knows everything about you. He grabs one of your hands, offering his to you so you can squeeze as hard as you need to, loving the pain as he pushes you to the edge.

You cry out his name when you come, nearly breaking the bones in his fingers. He doesn’t stop until the very last wave of ecstasy rolls through you, his body hovering over yours as he soothes you through the cool down.

“You have no idea what you mean to me,” he whispers into your collarbone, following the vulnerable words with a shaky kiss.

“I think I have some idea,” your palm glides over his scalp, where you were just leaving scratches, inspecting to make sure you hadn’t done too much damage. “Because of how much you mean to me.”

He just shakes his head, his buzzed hair tickling your chin.

You both rise from the counter, Rafe straightening your lingerie set and taking in his gift to you one more time. He stands between your legs, fists on the counter as he leans forward on flexed arms.

“How am I supposed to top this?” You wonder aloud, hands smoothing over his shoulders and your head tilting in that adorable way he’s obsessed with.

“What do you mean?” He puzzles.

“When your birthday comes around,” you explain, “you’ve set the bar so high.”

Rafe smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. His gaze wanders from you as he pulls back slightly.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he shakes his head.

“Are you joking? And miss the chance to celebrate you?” 

“We- I don’t really do birthdays,” he says, and before you can pry any further he adds, “plus yours isn’t even close to over yet.”

Rafe lifts you effortlessly from the counter, making you yelp in surprise. You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you to the bedroom, thinking obsessively about the way he accidentally said ‘we.’

Your heart breaks picturing younger Rafe, no birthday candles to blow out on his big day, no crowd of friends and family singing to him, no one to make him understand how special and worth celebrating he is. 

No, that just wouldn’t do. You start planning the second he falls asleep that night, determined to make his next birthday the best he’s ever had.

-----------------ꪆৎ‎---------------------

part 2: birthday boy coming soon!

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[giannaln4]

Sorry Won't Fix This

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Lando makes the biggest mistake of his life, bigger than any apology, and you both hoped there was a way to fix it. Unfortunately, you both wished it at different times. (5.5k words)

warnings: angst, cheating, mentions of sex, manipulation, mede up characters, use of Y/N

a/n: I FINALLY WROTE MORE ANGST! This is a long one and I held nothing back. I really did try to make it as hurtful and dramatic as possible and ngl I was inspired by 'Don't worry darling' for a tiny part of this (you'll know when you read it) but anyway, this one does NOT have a happy ending so please let me know what you think!

Check out the original request here!

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You had a terrible feeling, but you were too scared to look into it, terrified you would be right. 

Truth is, you started feeling like that just a few weeks ago, when you went back to Lando’s apartment to surprise him with lunch and found an empty room and the bed unmade from somebody sleeping on it. Any other day that would’ve been completely normal, but you had stayed with him the night before and made the bed as soon as you both got up to get ready for your separate plans for the day, leaving a perfectly made bed to come back to. 

Before that day, you would’ve never in a million years thought that Lando would cheat on you. He had always been so loving and caring, even before you started dating, and once you officially became a thing, he would constantly remind you how much he loved you, and on special days he was the most romantic person ever, and you always thought that you would spend the rest of your life with him, but now... you didn’t want to think about it, but you couldn’t bury the thought of him with someone else after it crossed your mind briefly while looking at the messy bed.

Later that night you asked him about it, trying hard not to sound like you were accusing him of something, but his excuse just made you feel worse, your suspicions growing.

“What do you mean?” He asked as he inspected his bed, unsure of what was wrong with it. 

“Well, you know, I made the bed this morning before we left, remember?”

“Oh, uh- yeah, I came back to- to take a nap,” he stuttered, not even looking at you. 

But it kept happening, a few more times.

Things started to change after that; he cancelled the plans you made for when he came back home, he suddenly was too busy every day and your presence might be a distraction for all the things he had to get done for the next race, he was so tired at night he didn’t have the energy for anything, and he even asked you to go back to sleep in your own apartment, claiming he just needed to sleep on his own to be comfortable, even though you were used to sleeping together.

Long story short, he was distant; he was never around anymore, and even when he was, you felt like you were missing him. He was just... different, and you were beating herself up wondering what had changed.

He, on the other hand, didn’t miss you, seeing he didn’t make an effort anymore and he could go days without answering a text or returning a call, ��​and it was not because you took a long time to reply; you would always respond in a heartbeat if it was him. If it weren’t for all the times you visited him at his apartment when a news outlet brought up that he was back in Monaco to make sure he was doing okay, you wouldn’t talk to each other at all.

But today you were feeling hopeful. It was your anniversary, and you had a date night planned — a date he didn’t cancel, so you took the entire afternoon to do your nails, your hair, and pick a beautiful dress to wear, his favourite dress. Your makeup took a while, but you still managed to be ready on time for the wonderful night you had ahead, so you made your way to him, your palms sweating when you knocked on the door.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Was the first thing he asked, wiping her smile off of her face.

“I thought we would go out tonight,” you replied, looking down at your hands to hide your clear disappointment.

“Oh- I guess I forgot to tell you but I remembered I have an important meeting tomorrow morning, so I’m not gonna make it." The door was barely open, and he was standing where the crack was, blocking his apartment as he held the door with a strong grip.

“Okay,” your voice was so faint you barely heard it yourself. “Do you need anything? I could stay here for a couple of hours.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I think it’s better if you leave.”

Tears pricked your eyes, swallowing the small lump forming in your throat. “Why?”

“Well, I’m busy with a few things. You know, I have a really early day tomorrow, and you can’t really help me with a McLaren meeting, can you?”

You shook your head slowly “I guess I’m leaving then.”

The tears you had been holding started to fall as soon as you turned around; you could feel your mascara clumping on your eyelashes and forming black streaks down your cheeks, ruining the contour and highlight you applied in hopes of impressing your boyfriend. You ran back to your car and let it all out once you closed the door. You really thought things would be different tonight, but you were wrong.

You started driving to your best friend’s house, desperate to vent about how terrible your relationship was going since you had been keeping a secret from everyone; the last thing you needed was the media to get in the middle of this. 

“Oh my god, Y/N. Are you okay?” Mia asked you when she saw the mascara tears.

You shook your head as you stepped inside, small whimpers leaving your lips as you tried to stop the crying.

“What happened?” She took your hand and guided you to the couch.

“Lando.” 

“What about Lando?”

“I think he’s cheating on me." You had never said that out loud, and saying it broke your heart even more. “I wish I was crazy, but the signs... I know he is.”

“I’m not trying to defend him or anything, but what makes you think that?”

“Everything, Mia. He has been acting so... distant. Ever since-” You stopped yourself. You never told anyone your relationship with Lando wasn’t doing so well, making up excuses to cover his. You just wanted to hold on to everyone else’s idea of you two, thinking you were the perfect couple.

“What? Have you guys been fighting?”

You took a deep breath before saying, “Remember the last time I stayed over at his apartment?” She nodded in response, “Well, later that day I went back to surprise him with lunch, but he wasn’t there and the bed was a complete mess, and you know I always make the bed when I wake up. He said he went back to take a nap, but he was supposed to be with Carlos all morning, and it didn’t make sense he had time to come back, take a nap, and then leave again, so I asked Carlos, and they didn’t meet at all that day. Is that insane?”

"No, Y/N, of course not.” Mia didn’t know what to say; she wanted to comfort you but she didn’t know how. “And he’s been acting weird since then?”

You nodded, wiping your tears away. “Yeah, he’s been pushing me away since that day. Telling me he doesn’t have time because he’s so busy with the season, which I understand, but not even answering a couple of texts? And cancelling every date we had planned?”

“Is that what happened today? I thought it was your anniversary.”

“It is.” You were nibbling on your lip profusely, looking up so tears would stop falling. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“Have you told him how you feel?” You shook your head again; you hated confrontation, and you were hoping you didn’t have to do that. “I think you should go talk to him.”

“Right now?”

“If not now, then when? You say you’ve been feeling like something’s off for a while, but you haven’t said anything to him.”

“I don’t know Mia-”

“If he is cheating on you then you need to break up with him, you don’t deserve to be in that situation, and you deserve to know the truth.”

You inhaled as you considered what Mia just said. She was right, but to be completely honest, you weren’t ready yet. “I really want to know, but I can't.”

“Why not?”

“Because what if he is?” Tears started rolling down your face again, Mia hugging you tight as soon as it happened. “I love him, and... I just want things to go back to normal.”

“I know you do, but believe me, it’s better if you know.”

You stayed there for a while, but ultimately decided to go talk to him, but you needed to put yourself back together before confronting him. Mia helped you to wash your face and fix your hair, comforting you and offering to stay with you once the two of you were done talking. You accepted; you didn’t want to be alone, and Anne, your flatmate, had been going out of town a lot recently, so your apartment was empty, and you knew it’d be a long night.

Once you felt better and ready to talk to him, Mia drove you to his place as you repeated in your head everything you wanted to tell him. You knocked loudly and didn’t stop until he opened. He looked annoyed, and you stormed inside as soon as he opened the door.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to talk.”

“About what?” 

You blinked at him twice. Did he not think you needed to talk? “About us, Lando. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Okay, now you were mad. “Lando, you have been ignoring me for days, and I understand if you’re busy, but it doesn’t explain you pushing me away at all times.”

“I’m sorry if you feel that way.”

There was a moment of silence, both of you staring at each other as you tried to remember the questions you were supposed to ask, but none of them seemed to make sense now that you were standing in front of him “That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“What do you want me to say?” 

“How about you tell me exactly what’s going on?”

You were both raising your voices, but Lando especially. “I told you already, I’ve been busy with the season-”

“I could’ve stayed here with you or gone with you to races if that meant spending more time together, like we have done before.”

“But why would you want to do that?”

“To keep you company, maybe?” 

“But all you do is stand around while I do my job.”

“Lando, do you know how many weeks I’ve spent away from home just so we can be together? And you don’t even care anymore, you didn’t even care to say thank you.”

“I never asked you to come,” he mumbled.

You scoffed before shaking your head. “I wanted to, you know I worry about you when you stress yourself out about a race, you tend to overwork yourself-”

“I. Never. Asked. You. To. Come." He interrupted you, his tone punctuated with each word. “I would’ve been fine without you, I don’t need you in my hair at all times." His eyes hardened, his mouth opening to speak again. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“I just- I’m your girlfriend, I guess I thought you liked to be with me.”

“I do, but you don’t have to be so clingy all the time.”

You didn’t say anything, hoping you heard it wrong or that he’d apologise, but he didn't. “What?”

“You know, we do everything together and-”

“No, we used to do things together, not everything." You corrected him.

He took a deep breath, as if he was done dealing with you. “Right. Look, I’m tired, we can talk tomorrow.”

You nodded, holding back the tears as you walked towards the door. “Happy anniversary,” you said before slamming it closed and running back to Mia’s car.

Lando sat on his couch with his head between his hands for a moment. How could he forget? He took a deep breath as he got up, looking for a ribbon and a gift he bought for you who knows how long ago.

He made his way to Mia’s flat; he assumed you would be there, and your car parked outside confirmed his suspicions, so he knocked on the door a couple of times before saying, “Baby, I’m sorry. I was caught up in all the things I have to do before leaving, and I didn’t realise what day it was." But he got no response. “Y/N please, I know you’re here. Will you please talk to me?”

“Go away, Lando.” Mia was the one to yell, making Lando realise he would not be able to fix it, not tonight anyway. 

“Okay, I’m leaving this here. I- I love you.”

You called in sick for your job the next day, your sore eyes and pounding headache being the only things you could think about. Well, that and Lando.

You were staring at the gift he bought for your one-year anniversary — what you were supposed to celebrate the day before. It was beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he remembered you mentioning it on one of your first dates ever, but it was the letter inside that broke your heart. It looked... unfinished, like he didn’t even care enough to give it a proper ending, so you were wondering how long ago he stopped working on it.

The days after that were rough, long nights of wondering what you could have possibly done wrong, but even then you didn’t talk to him. He tried to, a couple of times, but you needed a little bit of time.

A couple of weeks went by, and you found yourself alone at your apartment, catching up on the work you missed for calling in sick so many times.

It was your birthday, and Mia insisted a million times you go out and celebrate, clear your head, and forget about Lando once in for all, but somehow it felt wrong; you had made plans with Lando a few months back to bring your family to a race so they could finally meet him, but obviously that wasn’t happening anymore, so what was the point of celebrating? You just needed to focus and get things done anyway.

You were thankful that Mia had been for you through it all; you really were, but sometimes crying alone did more for you than having someone tell you ‘everything's gonna be okay.' You were tired of hearing that.

Hours later, you found yourself with a cup of coffee to finally catch up on the last project. It wasn’t really that much of a workload, and you didn’t need to stay up all night to do that, but you were going to anyway. Perhaps you just wanted to be productive, or maybe that was you trying to occupy your mind from the possibility of your boyfriend cheating on you.

You looked at the clock; it was 11:30 PM. You sighed, typing away whatever you were supposed to on your laptop, your eyes sore from staring at it for too long, when a text message interrupted you.

Unknown [Attachment: 1 photo]

Unknown: I heard they have been at it for a while.

That text message induced such a great shock on your tired, worn-out body, tears falling down your face as soon as you read it. You didn’t want to open it as you were sure of what this was about, but your curiosity got the best of you.

Tapping on the notification, you prepared yourself mentally to confirm your terrible suspicions. And they were confirmed.

Your vision was blurry from the tears, but you were able to see Lando standing next to his new Ferrari, and he was with someone else, except you couldn’t see who it was, the big jacket and a beanie protecting her identity. He was smiling down at her, eyes full of... love? Those green eyes you thought he reserved for you only, but clearly you were wrong. His big hands were around her waist as hers went around his neck, and his lips were stained with lipstick.

You broke down crying, curled up on your bed as you wore one of Lando’s hoodies that still smelt like him. You now knew what the truth was, but you didn’t want to accept it. What happened to you two? When did he stop loving you?

It was like your heart was ripped from your chest; all that time you spent together down the drain like it was nothing, like it all meant nothing to him.

You didn’t know for how long you cried the night before, but it was now 1 PM and you were just waking up, so you probably cried for hours. There was nothing left you could do to save your relationship, so you made up your mind to break up with him as soon as he came back from the American triple header.

Y/N: We need to talk, just let me know when you’re here.

The message was left unanswered, as usual. You rolled your eyes and put your phone down, returning to your video call with Mia.

“Do you know who that is?”

“No, sorry.” 

You sighed as you sipped your hot coffee “What about the number? Do you know who sent the picture?”

“What’s the number? Maybe I can ask around to see if any of my friends know.”

You sent her the phone number, along with the picture of Lando and the other girl. “Thanks. Don’t show anyone that picture thought. I’m already embarrassed as it is.”

“Embarrassed? Y/N, he should be the embarrassed one, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Maybe I did-”

“No, stop doing that to yourself. We both know it’s not your fault.”

You nodded. “I can’t help it. I just don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“Was I not enough? Why did he need to find someone else?”

Mia hated to see you going through that, how you felt like you were not enough or that it all ended because of you, and she hated Lando for causing all of that. “I know it’s hard right now, but I promise you’ll understand that none of this is your fault. Y/N you’re amazing, and he’s an idiot for not realising.”

Talking to her made you feel better, but all those terrible emotions came back whenever you looked at the picture again, a million questions invading your mind. How long has he been doing this? Who is she? Does he still love you? What did you do wrong?

A couple of days later, Lando finally replied to your text.

Lando: Just got back. I’m in my apartment

Your heart sank at the notification; you didn’t want to talk to him; you didn’t want things to be over. There was still a part of you that hoped everything was just a misunderstanding, hoping he wasn’t cheating on you and she was just a friend. But deep down you knew the truth, and the possibility of it being a mix-up was down to zero, and after he made it clear that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore, you decided to fulfil his wishes.

It was a long drive to his home; it felt longer than usual, but maybe you were just dreading the conversation you knew was about to happen.

You took a deep breath before knocking on the door, Lando opening it almost right away.

"Hey,” he said faintly, worried he got caught.

“Hi.” You entered the apartment you once thought you would move into and looked around. You had been there a million times, and so many of those times were special little moments you shared together, but right now it felt like you were disconnected from the space. “How was the triple header?”

“Not great- I don’t know. It was messy, I guess." He tried to give you a smile but stopped himself when he noticed your stare full of fury. “What did you want to talk about?”

Seriously? “I’m breaking up with you." Your voice was weak, but you did not dare let a tear slip past your waterline; he didn’t deserve to see you cry. 

“What?” The shock in his eyes looked so real that you almost believed him “Why?”

“Did you really just ask that?”

“So that’s it? We’re over?”

“Lando, come on, we’ve been over for a while." You stepped closer to him, pain and anger written all over your face as the tears struggled to stay on your eyes. “We didn’t even feel like a couple anymore. Lando, you forgot our anniversary, and that day you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me. And to think I planned a beautiful night for us and bought you a great gift. Do you have any idea how stupid I felt?” 

“I didn’t know you were feeling like that.”

“Of course not, when have you ever listened to me anyway?”

Lando rolled his eyes “Okay, I understand, but we don’t have to break up, I already explained what happened that day, I was busy and completely lost track of time.”

“And I guess she doesn’t have anything to do with this?” You showed him the picture, his demeanour changing immediately.

“Y/N, I- I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry." His eyes and his voice softened as he tried to reach for you, but you turned around and wiped the tears that managed to leave your eyes, a million questions flooding your mind again.

“So it’s true." You were just confirming to yourself what you already knew. Anger and pain washed over your body. Why her? Why her when you’ve been nothing but perfect to the man you loved the most?

“Baby, I can explain.” 

You turned around to face him again “Who is she?” He shook his head, his eyes begging you not to make him say it while yours watered, “Who is she?” You repeated.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Why? Cause I might find out you’re cheating?”

A few tears started to roll down his face, his hands desperate to hold yours. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you’re gonna hate me even more." You stared at him, even more tears falling as you tried to think who the girl could be. 

“Did you two- did you sleep with her?” His nod was barely perceptible; if you didn’t already know the answer, you would’ve missed it. Maybe he was right; maybe it’d be better if you didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop it.”

“I know I fucked up, but she doesn’t mean anything to me, I swear.”

“Shut up, Lando. I just… I don’t understand.”

“Let me explain-”

“And I don’t care how many times you apologise, how do you expect me to forgive you?” You took a couple of steps back, trying to figure out what caused him to do such a thing. “Even if we stayed together and got married and started a family, how can I ever look at you and not think about that?”

"Baby, I want all of that, I want the rest of my life with you, like we talked.”

“That was before you ruined everything.”

“I know what i did is wrong-”

“Wrong?”

“But we can work this out.”

“What? No, Lando, stop.”

“Just give me another chance, please.”

“Is that why you've been so distant, huh? Was she here on our anniversary?” Lando didn’t say anything, and the flashes from Lnado’s knuckles turning white from holding the door closed that night creeped your mind. Your heart ached so much that every time you breathed deeply, it was scorching you to the core “How could you do that?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising.”

“You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Just stop… god.”

“Y/N just hear me out, I swear it only happened once.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I know that’s not true. Do you know how many times I came to an unmade bed? And how many excuses you made?” He stayed silent. “I don’t care how many times it happened, you still did it and nothing is gonna change that.”

“I know.”

“You’ve been hurt before, right? What if I was the one cheating? Would you just forget it ever happened and come back to me?” Once again, he didn’t say anything. “No. Of course you wouldn’t. Lando, how could I ever forget what you did? Or everything you said to me when we were fighting, and the fact that you lied and- and cheated-”

“But you came all the way here.”

“Because I care, and you... you never cared, you never tried-”

“I care, I care so much. Baby, please, you have to believe me." He tried to reach out to you, but you pushed his hand away.

"No, you don’t, and if I’m here, it’s because I know after this we’ll never see each other again, we’ll never talk again and this just has to end.”

“But I don’t want it to end.”

“Well, you ended it when you cheated on me.”

He stared at you for a moment before continuing. “But… I want you, she didn’t mean anything to  me." He approached you again, his hope growing a little when you didn’t stop him. He put a strand of hair behind your ear, softly brushing your cheek. “I know I fucked up but I can’t go on without you, I just can't.”

“Well you have, countless times while I was left in the dark wondering if I had done something wrong, crying myself to sleep when I couldn’t get a hold of you, Lando, and in the meantime you were with her.”

“I’m sorry-”

“And you have the nerve to say all that shit to me, acting like I was suffocating you when in reality I was trying to save us!” You pushed him away.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, please let’s talk about it.”

“Fine, let’s talk about it. Was she worth it?” He shook his head, ready to leave his pride behind as he kneeled in front of you and grabbed one of your hands. “What are you doing? Stop.”

“I promise it was an accident, it won’t happen again.”

“An accident? Lando, are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Please, don’t let me go." The grip on your hand tightened, pulling you closer to him.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

“No. I don’t want anyone else, I want you, Y/N”

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“But everything I said... I meant it, I love you Y/N and every second we’ve been together has meant everything to me. Baby, you have to understand.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not lying, you know I’m not." You pushed his hand away, rolling your eyes when another tear rolled down his face. “I know I don’t deserve it but please... just one more chance and I can fix this.”

“Give you a chance? I gave you a chance when I believed your excuses, when I forgave you for cancelling every date we had planned, when I tried to understand why you locked me out, and when I almost forgave you for forgetting our anniversary, I gave you so many fucking chances!”

“But I swear it wasn’t like that, she meant nothing.”

“You’re unbelievable… god, what are you saying?”

“Just think about how great we are together,” he said, trying to hold your torso, but once again you stopped him. 

“Lando, stop that.”

“We’re a great team, aren’t we? We understand each other so well, we know each other better than anyone else, god, I’ll do anything, I swear.”

“No, it’s not gonna work.”

“Yes it will, and I’ll make sure of that.”

“No.” You were having a hard time blocking out how much love you still had for him, but you weren’t forgiving him; there was no way.

“I swear I don’t want anyone else." He held your hands and started kissing them, his lips giving you a sense of home that you missed. "Y/N, please, I love you.” 

You nodded weakly as you started crying again.

“You know I love you and I would do anything for you." He continued kissing you, a few tears falling on your hands. “Do you still love me?”

“I love you... Lan-” You released one of your hands from his grip, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your face.

“See? It will work, we will make it work." You shook your head; you were feeling stupid for almost falling for that. "Baby, look at me, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

A moment of silence fell into the room as you collected your thoughts again, and he just looked at you hopeful that he could get you back. “Who is she?” You dared to repeat the question as you looked at him again.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, his voice barely above a whisper when he finally answered. "Annie.”

Annie, your flatmate Annie. She had never met Lando before you, and she wasn’t interested in who he was when you first told her you started dating him, so you were the reason they knew each other for all those times he picked you up from your place, and even then you never considered them to be friends; they barely exchanged any words when they ran into each other. You felt betrayed on a whole new level, not only by Lando but by her too. You had lived with her for so long, literally since the day you moved to Monaco, so you thought of her as one of your closest friends; how could she do that? And these past weeks, when she had been mourning your relationship with Lando, she was there the whole time, and she knew exactly what was happening.

“How long?”

You were getting annoyed at how long it was taking him to answer your simple questions. “The day we went to meet my parents... I drove to your apartment to pick you up, but you weren’t there yet.”

“So you did it at my place?” It wasn’t really a question, and you felt even more disgusted at the thought of them in your own home.

“It was one moment of weakness.”

“One moment of weakness?” He nodded, his hands now holding on to your hips. “But it didn't stop there, did it?”

“I’m sorry.”

You swiped the tears away as you prepared to ask the question you had been asking yourself for weeks. “What does she give you that I can't?”

Lando shook his head quickly. “Nothing, you’re everything I could ever ask for.”

“Then why did you do that?”

He didn’t have an answer; he didn’t really know how it happened or why it kept going, but he couldn’t deny he was enjoying it before he got caught. “I don’t know." He whispered.

“Do you love her?”

“No, of course not. I love you." He was holding you tighter, convinced that if he held you long enough, you would want to stay.

“Oh my god, I’m so stupid.”

“You know it didn’t mean anything, it was a mistake-”

“Get your hands off me, I’m leaving,” you said as you tried to free yourself.

“Baby, please don’t leave, you have to hear me out.”

“Lando, let go. I don’t wanna be here." Your words struggled to come out from how much you were crying. 

“Please don’t, I don’t wanna let you go." He looked up at you, his eyes begging for forgiveness. “Let’s just talk about it, yeah? Let me explain.”

“Save it, Lando, it’s over.” 

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. This is obviously my fault, so I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stay, just please, one more chance is all I’m asking for.” You finally freed yourself, and your only goal was to go back to your apartment and cry all your pain away. You turned around and headed to the door; his hand tried to come to stop you, but you flinched away. You couldn’t bear to hear another word from him. "Baby, please, I love you.”

You turned around to face him one last time, spotting Lando still on his knees in the middle of his living room. “So you’ve said, but how can you hurt someone you claim to love so much?” He was about to say something, but you didn’t wanna hear it. “There’s nothing you can do to get me to stay, you threw everything away.”

“I know, my love, but-”

“I’m gonna leave and you’re gonna stay here, just… leave me alone, I don’t ever wanna see you again.”

You exited the room, leaving Lando alone and a complete mess. He regretted what he did, and he wanted to think that if you would just give him a chance to explain himself, you’d forgive him. But he knew that would never be the case and that his mistake was bigger than any apology; you were right to leave him.

He stared at the door for too long, taking in every emotion he was feeling: remorse, anger, pain, agony... he just felt like life was being sucked out of his body because he ruined the most important part of it, and there’s no one to blame but himself.

[thegoogoomuckkk]

Can I get a smau about them finding out you were a jujitsu sorcerer? Like you’ve been dating 4 years and you just casually drop it out of nowhere. Like a REALL strong one too (stronger than SUKUNA strong) ps. Let me be delusional pls😍

secrets pt. 1 -> them finding out you're actually a jujutsu sorcerer -> choso kamo, kento nanami, kiyotaka ijichi, satoru gojo, suguru geto, takuma ino

ok, first of all: thank you for this phenomenal request!!!! I love fulfilling requests, regardless of what they are because I just love interacting with you guys & sharing my writing with y'all, but it's always so fun & amazing to get a request that I'm so genuinely excited to fulfill & that inspires me as a creator, so thank you!!!

secondly: I kind of took the request & ran with it. I had a hard time coming up with a solution to like, why would they not know about it if they were dating, like that's an odd secret to keep?? So I originally planned on making this a pre-relationship kind of situation, but I have such a hard time with that, I always feel like anytime I try to create something like that it's so cringey & forced, idk??? So I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you were asking for!

third: you'll notice the cast list for this smau is somewhat different than previous ones. I don't plan on keeping the same exact people or number of people in rotation for each post. When it comes to smau or writing in general, the last thing I want to do is force myself to create something. I typically don't add suguru to my smaus, but I felt like he really fit within this one & I had an idea for him. I didn't include any of the non-sorcerer characters because that made the most sense to me. In the future, if you'd like me to include a specific character (like suguru or sukuna, for example, who aren't in all of my smaus), just let me know; otherwise, it might be a mixed bag.

okay, fourth & final thing: this maybe only occurred to me, & if so, yay! but the whole time I was making this, I kept thinking that if this actually happened, they would probably never choose to have this conversation with you over text, & they'd probably have a much larger reaction. Those kinds of things are pretty difficult to capture in a 3-4 screenshot smau, if you know what I mean. Plus, angst is really not my bag at all; I wish it was & maybe I'll write more of it in the future, but not today.

xoxo, carlisle!

did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[smileysuh]

sage & stardust - TEASER

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu holds y/n down by the wrists, size kink, mentions of possible bondage kink, heavy petting, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k

🍭 aus. Fairy au, fantasy au, non idol. 

☀️ mlist + an. Okay, so, I’ve written sooo many fics on this blog, and lately I’ve been wanting to try things I haven’t done before. I’ve never done a legit small man fairy dude (who does become normal/large sized later) x yn in a fic before, so bare with me, because these two are such a delightfully domestic pairing. Without further adieu, I give you: blue-collar fairy Mingyu. 

Even you have to admit the space has ambiance. The solarium studio is a lovely part of the house, your favorite in fact, although, tonight, you’re feeling a little shy about your art strewn about.

“Did you paint all of these?” Mingyu asks, approaching your most recent work.

“Yeah, they’re uh, abstracts,” you explain. “I mean, I gather a lot of inspiration from nature, but it’s more a feeling than a specific thing that I like to paint, if that makes any sense.”

“It does,” Mingyu nods, leaning down to get a better look at your art. 

“My grandma, she uh, she was an artist too, and so was her mother, and she gave me the house because she knew I needed inspiration-”

“Maybe that’s why she gave you me too.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you blink up at the tall man. “Uh… maybe.”

“So this cottage has a long line of artists and tinkerers,” Mingyu concludes.

“The line ended in my mother’s generation,” you sigh.

“That’s not true.” Mingyu looks down at you. “We’re here now.”

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[strangeaxel]

I hate BPD so much, i hate it so much, i just want it to stop being like this.

I'll just go to sleep maybe I'll dream something nice but my god i hate my brain so much I don't even know who i am or what i need, i just want to feel okay i feel like im never enough for anyone. Im just tired and scared,ni hate how life isn't like the movies, i want my life to be a big fiction where im the protagonist, i watch movies and series and i just feel so much jealousy.

I wonder where my friends are, i wonder where my parents are. I wonder where's that childhood I've always wanted. I know I only have one chance to be alive and this is what i get? Remembering my childhood with a 8 year old me begging my mom to kill me bc i didn't want to keep being alive, i just wanted life to end at the tender age of 8 years old and my mom only laughed at me. And my dad doesn't even love me, he never did, i hate him so much as much as he hates me or even more. Idk what to do.

I ain't no perfect human, I'll never be as im sick since i was born and everywhere ill go I'll disgust everyone. Idk what to do anymore. I just want this suffering to stop. Talking isn't useful either, i just want some lovely arms to rest on and feel like I'm in the home i never had.

I hate to know how tough it is to have someone with mental illness as your friend or family, i hate to know im a burden and i hate to know that nobody will actually relate to any of my interests. The world should have stopped in 2015. i envy people that have friends and still do that bullshit of "no, im fine" and say internally "oh i love them, they're so lovely but I'll just keep quiet so i don't bother them" and their friends and family would die to know their state, selfish bullshit, i know you're sad and all but where tf did you get that idea??! I literally would die for your situation. My lord. I wish i could just have what you have. I wish i was skinny, i wish i was innocent, i wish i was a kid again and stop everything that's coming to me, i wish i had born somewhere else, i wish i wasn't me, i wish my brain wasn't like this, i wish nobody hated me, i wish i didn't hate everyone, i wish i could live, i wish my dad love me, i wish my family love me, i wish everyone love me, i wish i was a good person, i wish i was somewhere else.

I won't accept im 20 next year, I won't accept my life is ruined, I won't accept i am still alive.

I wanna be an idle teen. Something i couldn't even do. Im that autistic girl that died in her couch, that's me, it's just that nobody know it, nobody knows my parents don't care enough, nobody knows i drop off school bc of bullying and depression at 13 and that i rot in my bed.

The whole, "K*lling urself is a permanent solution to a temporary problem" bullshit is spouted by the ignorant lucky ones who have only had temporary problems. Some people's problems are permanent so maybe try offering actual help and support to them rather than regurgitating an overused phrase that means nothing to people with real struggles.

[won4kiss]

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────HOW THEY REACT WHEN YOU GET YOUR WISDOM TEETH REMOVED.

(🐚) ──HYUNG LINE﹙엔하이픈﹚ ꒰ 𝓰. oneshots ៸ fluff ៸ established relationship ୨୧ㅤㅤ WARNiNGS : not proofread ៸ just goofy tbh ៸ being high on laughing gas ៸ petnames❞ bf!enha x 𝑓! reader ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ꒰ WC : 0.3k per member ꒱ SYPNoSiS 𐙚 in which you get your wisdom teeth removed and how they react when you’re high on laughing gas .ᐟㅤ ── LiBRARY

୨୧ ‎이희승 ── 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

HEESEUNG HAD ALREADY PREPARED HIMSELF FOR SOME EXPECTED CHAOTIC ANTICS OF YOURS, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you after getting your wisdom teeth removed.

as soon as the nurse brought you out of the operating room, still drowsy from the laughing gas, your face puffed up like a chipmunk, heeseung had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“hey baby,” he said speaking as gently as he was holding you, helping you into the car.

you blinked at him, your movements slow and exaggerated. “you’re like sooooo handsome,” you slurred, staring up at him in complete and utter awe.

heeseung giggled softly, brushing some stray hairs out of your face. “thanks, sweetheart. how are you feeling?” ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

“like… i’m in a dream. a dream where my boyfriend looks like a prince,” you giggled, poking his cheek. “you’re like a supermodel!”

heeseung’s ears turned a bright red as he started the car. “yeah? i don’t think i’m that good looking baby, but i’ll take it.”

“you’re wrong,” you continued, your words barely put together. “like… you’re better than the people on vogue magazines. like… an angel. like a really sexy angel.”

“okay, i think that’s enough compliments for one day,” heeseung said, though he couldn’t stop grinning.

as he drove, you kept getting distracted by random things out the window. at one point, you gasped loudly.

“heeseung! did you see that bird?!”

“what bird?”

“that one! it flew! it’s flying! like batman!”

he chuckled, gazing at you with adoration—reaching over to squeeze your hand. “yeah, birds do that, babe.”

when he pulled into the driveway and helped you out of the car, you wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him tightly. “thank you for being my boyfriend,” you mumbled into his chest.

heeseung melted on the spot, his heart swelling with love. “you’re welcome. and thank you for being my crazy, adorable girlfriend.”

୨୧ ‎박종성 ── 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

JAY WAS CALM AND COLLECTED WHEN HE ORIGINALLY PICKED YOU UP, but the second you started giggling uncontrollably in the passenger seat, he knew right then that this was going to be an adventure.

“you good?” he asked, glancing over at you as he adjusted the seatbelt around you.

“i’m great,” you said, your voice muffled by the gauze in your mouth. “jay, do you know you’re, like… really hot?”

jay raised an eyebrow, smirking. “oh, really? tell me more.”

“like… unfairly hot,” you said, pointing at him accusingly. “it’s a problem. other people must be so jealous.”

jay snorted, leaning back in his seat. “okay, i think the drugs won’t be wearing off anytime soon.”

as he started driving, you gasped suddenly and grabbed his arm. “jay! jay, we forgot something!”

“what? what did we forget?” he asked, glancing around the car.

“my wisdom teeth! where are they?!”

jay had to pull over because of your panic and distraught. “honey, they’re gone. the dentist took them out.”

“nooo!” you wailed dramatically, leaning against the window. “they were mine— they can’t do that!”

jay wiped the tears from your eyes, shaking his head with a grin. “you’re unbelievable.”

when he finally got you home and tucked you into bed, you grabbed his hand, looking up at him with wide, teary eyes.

“jay, promise me you’ll never leave me. not like my wisdom teeth.”

he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “i promise, baby. i’m not going anywhere.”

୨୧ ‎심재윤 ── 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐌

JAKE WAS ALREADY GRINNING AS HE ADMIRED YOU WOBBLING OUT OF THE DENTAL CLINIC, supported by a nurse that was absolutely struggling to keep up with your antics.

“there’s my girl,” he said playfully, helping you into the car. “jakey!” you slurred, your voice high-pitched. “you’re here!”

“of course i’m here,” he said, buckling you in. “who else would pick you up?”

you gasped dramatically as you went silent for a couple of seconds. “sunoo! i bet sunoo would pick me up. he’s soooo nice.”

jake froze, turning to look at you with an offended expression. “sunoo? really? you’d pick sunoo over me?”

you nodded solemnly. “sunoo wouldn’t make fun of me like you do.”

jake laughed, closing the car door and getting into the driver’s seat. “okay, i’ll remind you of this conversation when you’re not high.”

on the way home, you suddenly reached for his face, cupping his cheeks. “jake, you’re so pretty. like a puppy. a golden retriever puppy.”

he smiled, his heart melting. “thanks, baby. you’re pretty too.”

“no, i’m not,” you pouted. “i look like a squirrel. a sad squirrel with big chubby cheeks.”

jake giggled, shaking his head. “you look adorable, the prettiest squirrel i’ve ever seen in my life—even with chipmunk cheeks.”

when you finally got home, he set you up on the couch with a blanket and some water.

as he sat down beside you, you rested your head on his shoulder, mumbling, “jakey… you’re my favorite. don’t tell sunoo.”

he grinned, wrapping an arm around you, and leaving a soft kiss on your nose before whispering, “your secret’s safe with me.”

୨୧ ‎박성훈 ── 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

SUNGHOON HAD ZERO IDEA WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN HE PICKED YOU UP, but as soon as he saw you smiling lazily at him with puffy cheeks and droopy eyes, he knew he was in for it.

“hoonie!” you exclaimed, your voice muffled. “my prince has arrived!”

he blinked, taken aback by the nickname. “prince?”

“you’re soooo pretty,” you slurred, cupping his cheek. “like… a disney prince. like prince eric, but hotter.”

sunghoon’s ears turned pink as he helped you into the car. “okay, let’s get you home before you embarrass yourself even more.”

“you’re so mean!” you whined, crossing your arms.

“i’m not mean,” he said, starting the car. “i’m realistic, babe.”

halfway home, you started humming a melody loudly.

“what are you doing?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“making a poem about you,” you said proudly. “sunghoon is so hot. sunghoon is so adorable. sunghoon is mine. sunghoon is the best boyfriend in the whole wide world.”

he couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. “that’s… actually kind of sweet—but none of it rhymes babe..”

and sunghoon immediately regretted that statement after he saw the tears running down your cheeks.

“i’m an english major! are you saying i’m horrible at what i do?” you wailed.

“babe, no—“

when you got home, he tried to guide you to bed, but you plopped down on the couch instead, patting the space next to you. “hoonie, come here. we need to talk.”

he raised an eyebrow, sitting down in curiosity of what you’d say now. “what’s wrong baby?”

you grabbed his hand dramatically. “promise me you’ll never leave me. ever.”

sunghoon blinked, caught off guard by the intensity and seriousness in your voice. “where’s this coming from?”

“my teeth left me,” you said, your eyes glassy. “you can’t leave me too. never ever.”

he bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. “i’m not going anywhere, babe,” he said, squeezing your hand.

“you promise?”

“i promise, i’m here with you forever, whether you like it or not.” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple. “now let’s get you to bed before you start writing me another poem.”

“too late,” you mumbled, already humming another tune as he carried you to your room.

© WON4KISS 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

NOTE. hi my loves <3 i know it’s been a very rough couple of days so i wanted to write something more light hearted and goofy !! pls know that if you’re struggling or genuinely upset you could always reach out to me and i’m always here for everyone, whether you’re a reader, moot, or literally anyone. yes, enhablr has changed tremendously this year but i also know some of the sweetest people on here who make it so worth it to stay. ignore & block the negativity !! i love u guys so so much pls never forget that !! we got this guys <3

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 17

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16

Eddie’s back to school on Tuesday, black eye turning a mottled sort of green, lip scabbed over. From where he’s hemmed in by Robin and Chrissy, Steve watches Eddie catch a glimpse of him and bolt the other way.

Jeff sighs, lets go of his hold on Chrissy’s arm, and says, “sorry, Steve. I’m just gonna—” and then he points toward Eddie and follows after him without another word.

Steve’s gut clenches with guilt. He’d put that look on Eddie’s face, had caused the rift in his and Jeff’s friendship, had split the forming group up with his ridiculous crush. But Chrissy and Robin are still here, standing by his side.

“Are he and Jeff okay?” Steve asks, biting his lip as he glances at Chrissy.

“I think so,” she says, looking after her boyfriend. “They talked on the phone, but Jeff didn’t tell me what about.”

“Forget about them,” Robin replies, reaching out to take his hand even as it makes everyone around them stare. “Come on, Stevie, or we’ll be late to Ms. Clickity Clack’s class.”

Steve passes the rest of the day in a daze, the spot at his side a revolving cast of Chrissy, Robin, and Jeff, like they’d all talked behind his back and decided he couldn’t be trusted with being alone right now. Steve can’t blame them because as soon as he’s left unattended in his big empty house, he gets out his notebook and pen, and begins to write.

   Eddie —

   I’m sorry I never got to read your last letter, but it wasn’t for me anyways. Maybe none of them were, not really. And I’m sorry about that, even sorrier about how your pretty face got caught in the ceasefire. I’m just full of sorries I’m to scared to tell to your face—from the way you ran when you saw me in the hallway this morning, maybe you wouldn’t want me to anyway.

   You’ve always been the brave one, so you must really want to not see me, huh? I hope you and Jeff are friends again. I’m sorry about that too, I’m the one who asked him not to tell you. I was afraid, but that’s no excuse.

   I don’t know how to stop wanting to right write to you. I can’t turn off the part of me that still wants to know everything about you. There’s a whole in my heart, and I keep trying to find people to fill it, but I can never be in love with someone who loves me back. You know?

   I’m sorry, Eddie. Maybe someday, I’ll get to say it to your face.

   Sorry,

   Steve

He closes the notebook on the damning words and shoves it into his nightstand so he doesn’t have to look at it. Sleep doesn’t come—the house is too quiet. He grabs the phone off his dresser and calls the only other person he knows whose parents trust them enough to have a phone in their bedroom.

“H’lo?” Robin mutters sleepily after finally picking up the phone six rings later.

She sounds tired—Steve’s sorry he woke her. “I wrote another letter,” he says.

That seems to perk her up instantly, as she hisses down the line, “Steven James Harrington.”

“Not my name, Robin Steven Bobbington,” he replies, talking right over her shrieked “well, that’s not mine!” to continue, “I’m not going to send it.”

“You better not,” she replies, and Steve can hear some rustling on her end, like she’s settling back down into her bed. He wishes, suddenly, that he was in there with her, clutching her hand as they fall asleep side by side. Instead, he lays down on his own bed and concentrates on the noises coming down the line.

“Is it stupid that I miss him?” he asks.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Robin!”

She laughs, a quiet sleepy chuckle that warms him straight through. “I’m just saying! He’s been treating you like shit, Stevie.”

Steve sighs, burrowing down under his comforter and taking the phone with him. “He was different in the letters,” he whispers, like someone in his empty house might hear him otherwise. “Sweeter, you know?”

Robin sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There’s enough sorries to go around for all of them, apparently. They’re quiet for a while, Robin’s breathing keeping him company in his big, lonely bed with his big, lonely thoughts.

“I love you, Robbie,” he whispers. “You know that, right?”

He’s been saying it a lot lately, throwing the words around like they’ll connect this time and get him something real. And they had, with Chrissy, with Robin, hell, even with Jeff. Just, not with Eddie. Maybe someday, he’ll learn to be okay with that.

“Love you, too, Dingus,” Robin replies, like it’s easy.

He falls asleep that night to the sound of Robin’s quiet snoring.

***

Eddie thinks about it—obsessively, compulsively. He dreams about it, jerks off about it, fucking cries about it. He reads the letters, again, and again, and again, wishing desperately that he still had that first one. At school, he checks his locker obsessively, compulsively, hoping there’s another note in his locker—there never is.

“Dude, what’s your problem?” Gareth asks, an elbow into Eddie’s side.

“Ow, ribs!” Eddie cries, curling away from him and into Doug at their usual lunch table.

“Sorry!” Gareth replies, leaning away from him and raising his hands up like that’ll somehow prove he’s harmless.

Jeff snorts around his sandwich, “gotta be careful, Gare-bear. He’s precious cargo now.”

“Oh fuck off,” Eddie replies, rolling his eyes as the rest of Hellfire laugh around him.

“No, but seriously, dude,” Gareth asks, this time without the thrown elbow. “What’s up with you?”

Eddie looks across the cafeteria at Steve and Chrissy’s usual spots, still empty the way they have been for weeks. He worries, sometimes, that they’re not eating, and it’s his fault.

Hopefully, they’re just packing lunches from home and eating somewhere else (he’s been too afraid to check).

“Can’t tell you buddy,” Eddie replies, still looking at the empty spot like that’ll somehow make the duo appear. “I promised.”

Gareth, clearly having followed his line of sight, leans closer and asks in an unsubtle whisper, “but it’s about you know what?”

Doug sits on, oblivious, but Jeff snorts again and asks, “okay, you didn’t tell me jack shit, but you told the freshman?”

“Sophomore, jackass!” Gareth cries, before seeming to realize the implications of Jeff’s sentence. “You told Jeff?”

“I knew before you did,” Jeff says smugly, and Eddie’s starting to get pissed off about that again.

“How!”

“Jeff, dearest?” Eddie grits out. “Do you want me to punch you in the face?”

That shuts the table up catastrophically. But in the end, Jeff sighs and says, “I’m coming over after school,” and the rest of lunch is spent fielding Gareth’s indignant questions.

True to his word, Jeff climbs into Eddie’s passenger seat at the end of the day. Eddie doesn’t take them to the trailer, he just drives around, taking back roads round and round, restlessness making his fingers twitch in the gear shift.

Jeff’s the one who breaks the silence, in the end. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says, making Eddie flinch at the sudden noise. “Steve just seemed so scared, and Chrissy was crying so—”

“He was scared?” Eddie interrupts, stuck on the thought. He’d known that, before, but now that Eddie’s afraid, too, it hits like a punch to the chest.

“Of course he was,” Eddie replies to his own question. Suddenly unable to focus, Eddie pulls over to the side of the road. “I’m scared, too.”

Jeff sucks in a breath; Eddie doesn’t look away from his own knees.

“Yeah?”

Eddie bites his lip, knowing that Jeff will be able to read between the lines. “Yeah.” His eyes are watering, and Eddie swipes at them, embarrassed. “And I know we’re supposed to be talking about us, but I just—”

“No, hey,” Jeff replies. Eddie hears the sound of his seatbelt unbuckling, and the rustle of him shifting in his seat, and suddenly, Jeff’s hand is clasping Eddie’s shoulder, shaking him around just a little. “You’re my best friend—we’re fine, dude.”

Eddie swipes at his eyes again, “I think I want to ask him out, but what if I’m wrong?” Eddie asks, tracking Jeff’s expression out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t want to hurt him again.”

“So, what?” Jeff asks, voice deadpan. “You find out he likes you and suddenly he’s not just a jock anymore?”

Eddie looks down at his own knees, bracing for a hit he knows will never come. But, Eddie’s always been good at hurting himself, so he thinks about that yellow nail polish again, the enraptured look in Steve’s eyes during every D&D session, the way he’d glued himself to Robin Buckley, band nerd supreme’s side in recent weeks. The way he’d look at Eddie like he wasn’t the king of the freaks, like he was worth something.

“He was never just a jock,” Eddie murmurs. “I just never let myself think about it.”

Jeff mmmhmms him and Eddie knows him well enough to hear the doubt beneath the agreement.

“I was afraid, okay?” Eddie laments, scrunching his eyes closed tight until that makes his bruised eye ache too much. “You wouldn’t get it.”

At that, Jeff scoffs, and before Eddie can start up another tirade, he replies, “right, the black guy dating a white girl in Po-dunk, Indiana has no idea how scary it can be to make a move on the person you like.”

Okay, fair.

“You know what could happen if the wrong person finds out?” Jeff continues. “I’ll be lucky if they let me get out of town alive.”

“Okay, okay! I get it, sorry!” Eddie cries, throwing his hands up in defeat. And Jeff, being the asshole he is, just laughs at his discomfort. “How’s that going anyway?”

“With Chrissy?” Jeff asks, continuing when Eddie nods. “She’s great, man. I really, really like her.”

He’s smiling all goofy and in love. Eddie waits for the jealousy to hit; it never comes. Even as he’d flirted with her, there’d always been a disconnect for him between the letters and the girl. He knows why, now.

“I’m happy for you.”

Jeff aims that same goofy smile at him and punches his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

Eddie wants to feel that way about someone. He wants to think of them and smile like he just can’t help himself. And with Steve Harrington of all people, maybe he can.

“If I ask Steve out, do you think he’ll still say yes?”

“Oh, for sure,” Jeff replies without hesitation before he turns to Eddie and eyes him up and down. “But are you sure you want to?”

Eddie bites back the defensive retort rising on his tongue, and grits out, “what do you mean?”

Jeff sighs and leans back in his chair. Eddie waits, three seconds from snapping as he stews in Jeff’s silence, hands clenched so hard against the steering wheel that it feels like one of his nails might pop clean off. 

“Jeff–”

“No one’s ever liked you before!” Jeff cries, and it hits Eddie like a punch to the sternum. “And maybe it’s not fair of me to ask but, are you sure you even really like him?”

“What?” Eddie asks, his mind a record skipping against a bent needle. “What do you–”

“Eddie, man,” Jeff sighs, swiveling his head to finally look Eddie directly in the eyes. “Do you like Steve Harrington, or do you just like that he likes you?”

He drops the wheel, hands almost numb as he shakes them out, no longer able to meet Jeff’s eye. 

How would anyone ever know that for sure? How can he know the origin of a feeling when it’s been there, simmering in the background of his brain, just waiting for him to wake up? How can he separate the feeling for a person and the person’s feeling for them?

That’s like asking him to unbraid his hair, let it fall back together, and still be able to tell which strands made up each component of the braid–it can’t be done.

But, “Gareth said I was obsessed with him,” Eddie replies, barely above a whisper. “Like, before I knew he wrote the letters?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie laughs, but it’s just like Steve said–it sounds different when he doesn’t think it’s funny. “And, he was right, you know? I was flirting with Chrissy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”

Eddie runs a shaking hand through his hair and buries his face into his hands with a shudder. “He’s just–he’s Steve Harrington, right? Everyone knows everything about him, but then he just changes the script!” Eddie’s smiling now, manic, animated. “And I wanted to know everything.”

Eddie drops his hands to look over at Jeff, meeting his eyes once more. Jeff looks patient, ready, hopeful in a way he hadn’t before, so Eddie keeps talking.

“Like, Chrissy was flirting with you and he didn’t even seem to care, and the yellow nail polish, and he came to Hellfire, Jeff. Steve Harrington came and watched us play Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I know,” Jeff replies, grinning now, pearly whites all on full display. 

“And when he came to band practice, he was just like, watching me, and I sort of wanted to die, but in a good way, you know?”

Jeff decidedly does not look like he knows, but he’s still grinning across at Eddie like he’s proud of him. Eddie’s kind of proud, too, that he’s managing to say all of this aloud. It feels somehow new and a long time coming at the same time. 

“Okay, you can ask him out,” Jeff says, turning forward in his seat and buckling his seatbelt once more. 

Eddie laughs. “Oh, because I needed your blessing?”

“Yeah,” Jeff replies, grinning as he turns back to Eddie, looking him up and down like he’s a slab of meat Jeff’s checking for its quality. “Maybe wait until you’re healed up, though. You look like one of those cardboard box kittens that I keep seeing on the news.”

“Shut up!” Eddie squawks, but he’s smiling, helplessly, hopefully.

Eddie Munson with a chance at love, who would’ve thought?

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Listen I love the ‘dicks being ostracized from his family and self destructs’ trope in fics however

I would like an inverse just once (I could write it but I want this fic to be good so I can enjoy it and I am not the greatest writer) where everyone blows up at him and flat out lays into him and he just goes… okay… if that’s how you feel?

Takes himself off of the patrol routes and rosters. He’s off the emergency calls and his ‘call for city wide emergency’ has been down graded to ‘call for world wide emergency’ he’s no longer on comms with oracle

He stops offering assistance to the other kids teams, doesn’t send info for investigation and doesn’t go within 100feet of Gotham.

Takes himself off the den-mother, baby sitter, trainer for all the younger teams lost that involve any and all bats

In the beginning he vacates his apartment and temporarily moves in with Donna in New York and things are good because of course they are. They’re Dick and Donna a world doesn’t exist where they aren’t okay.

And then his presence in New York leads to a lot of the og core five titans interacting and they realize that they miss each other like hell and start to work together more and more. Until news sites are like ‘teen titans grown up??’ ‘Original titans spotted doing hurricane aid in Florida!’

Because Dick loves his family but he knows when to bow out. And he chose the family he made in the new teen titans.

And then one day one of the bats track him down in nyc and breaks into what is now Dick and Donna’s apartment and are ready to argue that they need him back and need him there for a huge Gotham wide event.

And Dick says ‘sure okay let me get my stuff and we leave in half and hour’ as soon as the first sentence is out

No convincing or begging or asking for money (cough Jason cough)

Dick is patched into their comms and he’s working efficiently except he’s not… acting like himself.

He’s collaborating with whoever they tell him too, no problem, he’s discussing ideal plans and co-ops and teams and how to best get it under control.

But he’s talking to them the way he talks when he’s offering aid to teams he’s not a part of.

Like the hero version of an acquaintance and no one can call him out on it because he’s doing good work. Work that’s on par with his work before this whole fiasco. He explicitly isn’t letting their personal issues affect his work.

He’s speaking but not talking

And Bruce remembers this… he’s probably the only one who does because last time he was the only one included. The last time Dick acted like this is when he first visited Jason and him after he had been fired.

Whenever Bruce was in the room and Dick was forced to speak with him, the conversation never strayed past business casual especially around Jason.

Batman and Nightwing got into screaming matches

Bruce and Dick were strangers

And now they’re back to this, 7 kids later, a million ends of the world stopped, they’ve bled together, cried together and clung to each other in pure relief after they managed to clutch victory.

And Nightwing was treating Batman Inc like a new team stepping onto the scene.

Once they’ve secured everything and managed to keep Bruce from self destructing and making it worse. Dick just leaves and tells oracle that he’ll send over his debrief in 3-5 business days and it was nice working with them.

And then he’s gone

No cave, no manor, no Alfred, no med-bay because Dick doesn’t stay places he’s not welcome.

And after they all talk about that and how weird it was and Bruce reveals Dick did this before when he was Nightwing after Bruce fired, where Dick Grayson didn’t know Bruce Wayne.

And one of the kids asks when he broke and stopped the act and Bruce just says ‘the day he found out Jason died’

And the Batkids kinda freak bc what do you mean?? What is he only going to come back when someone dies? Thats not? There has to be another way?? And Bruce is like yeah no idea sorry (bc he’s helpful like that)

So then Steph the next day resolves to go visit him, Tim isn’t the only professional stalker. And she finds Dick and Donna’s apartment and well it’s daylight and she’s in civvies she’s if she climbs in through the window she might get reported to the NYPD and she doesn’t wanna get arrested or shot to door it is!

And so she goes and knocks and Dick opens the door and just lights up

Something something this is such a nice surprise something something it’s so good to see you.

Dick had taught Donna how to make some of his mother recipes when they were kids. So now whenever they’re together for a long time they cook together.

So Dick who is usually living in a cluttered apartment with no clean dishes and an exclusively grab and go food is now trying to force feed her some of his cooking.

Because he picked up the habit again since he’s the better cook between him and Donna.

And it’s delicious and he wants to catch up and hear everything that’s going on in her life, is she working with new people, dating anyone? How is her relationship with her mother etc etc.

It’s a nice day and she stays late and never confronts him on anything until she sees how long ago the sun set and she needs to get moving.

He hands her paper with his number and makes her promise not to give it to the others or she will lose access to it, he offers to help her on a conditional basis as nightwing but only her, she can call him about the rest if it’s an end of the world or they’re near death and need immediate aid.

And that’s like the fic because the key to winning nightwings assistance is like breathing (optional) but if you’re Dicks family you have to care or else. He’ll love you and help you, when you need it but he won’t tie his life up with yours, he’ll spend his time with people who value his opinion and the person behind the mask.

Anyway cue all the Batkids trying to do what Steph did and fail because they’re neurotic shits who think bonding involves doing casework together or a steak out.

(The next person to crack it is Damian, completely unintentionally he has a fight with Bruce and can’t ask him how the fuck he’s supposed to solve this equation in the new stupid way they’re teaching him no he can’t use the old method they’re supposed to show their work so he pulls up to Dick and Donna’s in a ratty ass hoodie like plz wtf do you mean you work top down explain Grayson- and dicks like awww no problem kid)

[thecutestmonkeygirl]

Sasuga looked confused by this question and tilted her head. “Why what? Why do I trust him? Why shouldn’t I? I love him. He has never hurt me and has done a lot to keep me safe.”

“Okay. I understand. I just wanted a taste to see how it was.” She shrugged but it didn’t sound as if she was upset over being told no.

She looked at the offered finger then glanced to her mate. With his nod, she leaned in and carefully but quickly licked it of their finger. “Mmm… actually I’m not sure if it’s the wine or the dust but it taste nice.”

Blood and Moonlight

Sasuga woke in what was at first an unfamiliar area but as she blinked fully awake she realized it was their closet that Coyote had decorated for them. She smiled and took a careful kiss from her mate who was still sound asleep next to her. It really had been an amazing night with the family and then with her husband. As she slipped from his arms, she took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers dancing over the fresh marks on her neck and hips. She couldn't have asked for anything more from the night and it was with some reluctance that she dressed. She picked out a pair of warm leggings and a short little skirt to pull over them with some knee high boots and a thick sweater. She slipped from the closet and moved to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth and get ready for the big day ahead. She gave a stretch and headed downstairs only to find a familiar face waiting for her. "Raphael..." she smiled and moved to greet him with a hug. "I see you are still alive." she smirked. "Want some tea? Coffee?"

@banditcoyote

[gay-dorito-dust]

i need more viktor fluff 👉👈 maybe some nightmare hurt/comfort if possible?

It was hard to remember having a nightmare once you wake up, almost as if it has never happened but yet the unsettling feelings of panic, distress and fear would still thrum through your veins as a reminder that what you experienced wasn’t the most pleasant.

Viktor’s body awoke him from his nightmare as he found himself struggling to catch his breath and calm his heart that was threatening to leap out of his chest, when came your voice from beside him.

‘Viktor?’

He winced, knowing that he must’ve woken you up from your sleep but upon looking at your face, you didn’t seem to mind the disruption at all, if anything you looked to be more concerned with him and his distress that came off of him in waves. ‘Are you okay? You’re looking a little frazzled there.’ You say barely above a whisper as you wiped the perspiration from his forehead with a featherlight touch that had Viktor leaning towards on impulse, closing his eyes as he recognised that he was within safe company.

‘Just a nightmare my love, nothing you should worry yourself over about.’ He finally says for the first time that night, focusing intently on the gentle caresses you give his cheek which felt like a thousand kisses within a single caress, before reopening his beautiful eyes to get a better look of you. Your eyes were half lidded, aching for the sleep he drew you from and creased pyjamas from constantly shifting for a better sleeping position, but you still looked beautiful to Viktor in the light of your bedside lamp; highlighting your features to make you look even more like an angel.

You raised a brow, not at all entirely convinced. ‘If you know me at all Viktor then you’ll know that I’ll always worry about you.’ Viktor sighs as you shuffled closer to him, pulling him into resting his head against your chest and you rubbing his back soothingly. You were too good for him but he couldn’t help but be selfish and melt into your embrace, listening to your steady heart and wiling his own to follow by example until your hearts were beating in a calming unison. Viktor felt selfish for keeping you to himself, but no one else loved him like you did and he didn’t want to loose that; Sure he overworked himself and that meant he didn’t have much time to spend with you, something he still feels incredibly bad about, but when you hold his face and kiss it like you’ll never do so again it made him believe he was worth being loved.

‘Sometimes I wish you didn’t have to worry over me.’ Viktor admits as he closes his eyes again, they felt heavy like lead, and your presence and warmth did nothing but make him all but ache for sleep. ‘I’m not worth it.’ He adds softly, thinking you didn’t hear it but unfortunately you did and you kissed the top of his head while tightening your hold on him. ‘You’re more then worth my worry Viktor, and you’re even more worth my love too while we’re at it,’ you began as you rested your head atop of his, ‘you have no idea how beautiful and pretty you are to me that I often loose my breath near you, and don’t even get me started on how attractive you are as your solving equations and writing notes down like your life depends on it.’ You felt Viktor stiffen in your hold and rubbed his back in response.

‘I honestly have to try my hardest to not just fucking kiss you senseless when you’re hard at work.’ You chuckle to yourself as you remembered all the times where you couldn’t help how you felt towards the scientist hellbent on bettering the lives of the less fortunate, an admirable thing indeed and you couldn’t help but fall harder for his heart like you did with the rest of him. ‘God you’re so fucking beautiful that I fell at the first sight of your amber eyes and your voice. It’s like an angel singing in my ears and I’ve needed let up since.’ You finished.

Viktor didn’t know what to say, you left him speechless with your raw emotions towards him, they left him warm and weightless in the best ways imaginable, and he knew that no matter what he’d say you would always finds words and string them together so eloquently that it leaves him having to accept your words as the uttermost truth. ‘You sure you weren’t a poet in a past life my love? For it seemed that you can weave poetry without even having to try.’ He says softy as he looks at you with a smile, gracefully accepting a kiss that you planted on his lips, feeling himself becoming whole just by the sound of your laugh.

‘No, that’s just love speaking Viktor.’ You replied softly. ‘It tends to make you do things and say things that you didn’t know you could. It can make you brave but I can make you reckless at the same time, love is a double edged sword that can either enlighten your look on life or darken it.’ You kissed his lips again, smiling to yourself when you feel him chase after your lips to give you a kiss of his own. ‘And you Viktor have brightened my life in ways that I thank everyday that I have you in my life.’ You finished as you looked deep into his amber eyes and seeing your forever in them as you rest your forehead against his own, breathing in unison as the nightmare that haunted Viktor vanished within your light.

‘And I am thankful for you being in my life, my light and my muse.’ Viktor replied as he took in this moment in hopes of engraving every last detail into his mind, mainly for his own selfish purposes, before sleep overcame his mind as he buried himself back into your chest and slowly but surely drift back to sleep. It didn’t take long for you to follow suit as you kissed his head and got yourself comfortable before feeling sleep overcome you too. So you tightened your hold on Viktor and welcomed sleep in hopes of seeing him there waiting for you.

[rafedarling]

We need drew when rustyns born, like labor/delivery, I think he’s the most supportive partner 😭😭

here are more rustyn for ya.

𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐲

pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: your due day has finally come for you and drew to meet your little one. as labor unfolds, drew proves to be the most supportive partner, balancing his nerves with humor, tenderness, and unwavering love.

warning(s): english is not my native language. mentions of childbirth, medical procedures, mild pain, fluff, humour, use of y/n.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @rubixgsworld @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxoblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @percysley @littlelamy

“Drew,” you whispered, reaching over to nudge your husband’s shoulder.

He remained motionless, his breathing slow and even. Another contraction gripped you, and you couldn’t stifle a soft groan. With more urgency this time, you called his name again.

“Drew… babe”

This time, he stirred. His brow furrowed before his blue eyes slowly blinked open.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” he mumbled, still half-asleep.

“I think my water just broke,” you said softly, offering a small, nervous smile.

The words took a moment to register, but when they did, Drew bolted upright.

“What?!” His voice was shock and excitement.

“Oh my god, it’s happening! Are you okay? How are you feeling? Is it bad? What do I do?” He scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over the duvet in his rush.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his frantic reaction, though it was cut short by another contraction.

“I’m okay, but we should probably get to the hospital soon. Can you calm down, though? I don’t need two emergencies tonight.”

“Right, right,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair.

He grabbed the hospital bag you’d packed weeks ago, holding it like it was the most precious cargo.

“Let’s go!”

“Wait,” you said, stopping him. “I need to change my pants first.”

“Oh. Right.” He was back at your side in an instant, helping you up with his hands steady on your arms.

His gaze was full of concern as he scanned your face.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Does it hurt a lot?”

“The contractions are getting closer, but they’re manageable,” you replied, leaning into him as he helped you change.

“But yeah, we really need to go now.”

At the hospital, Drew took charge, answering questions from the nurse about how far you are, are you on any special medication and filling out the paperwork as you were wheeled into your room.

Once you were settled, Drew pulled a chair next to your bed, gripping your hand tightly.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked, his voice soft yet anxious.

“I’m okay for now,” you said, though the contractions were growing stronger and more frequent.

“I didn’t realize how many needles they’d stick in me during all this.”

Drew gave a small laugh, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re handling it like a champ. I don’t think I’d survive five minutes of this.”

Another contraction hit, and you gripped his hand tightly, your breathing uneven. Drew immediately shifted closer, his voice calm and steady.

“Breathe, Y/N. In and out, baby. You’ve got this.”

Hours and hours has passed, and Drew never left your side. He held your hand through every contraction, rubbed your back when the pain became overwhelming, and even tried to make you laugh to keep your spirits up. When you hit the ten-hour mark, Drew suddenly pulled out the camcorder from his sister Brooke, who had brought it to document the big day.

“What are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow despite your exhaustion.

“Making a video for Rustyn,” he said, grinning. “Something for him to watch when he’s older.”

He turned the camera to himself first, his smile lighting up the room.

“Hey, Rustyn. It’s your dad. It’s 6 a.m., and you’re really taking your time, buddy. But that’s okay, we’re waiting patiently. Well, your mom’s doing all the work.”

Turning the camera toward you, he continued,

“And here’s your mom. Look at her, look how incredible she is. The strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. You better treat her like a queen when you grow up, okay?”

Despite the pain, you laughed softly. “Drew, stop making me laugh, it hurts!”

He chuckled, then turned the camera toward Brooke, who was pacing in the corner.

“And here’s your Aunt Brooke, who’s been on the edge of her seat all night.”

“Rustyn, ignore your dad,” Brooke said, rolling her eyes. “I’m much cooler than he is, and I can’t wait to spoil you.”

When the doctor finally announced it was time to push, Drew’s nerves hit an all-time high. He squeezed your hand tightly, his other hand brushing the sweat-dampened hair from your face.

“You’ve got this, Y/N,” he said, his voice shaking slightly but full of love. “I’m so proud of you.”

The first push was overwhelming, and you let out a cry of frustration.

“I can’t do this,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “Drew, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he said firmly, his eyes locking with yours.

“You’re the strongest person I know. Just one push at a time, baby. I’m right here.”

With each push, he offered constant encouragement.

“That’s it, Y/N. You’re doing amazing. Our boy’s almost here. I love you so much.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a loud cry filled the room. Tears immediately welled up in Drew’s eyes as the doctor placed your baby boy on your chest.

Drew was trembling as he leaned over, his eyes fixed on the tiny baby in your arms.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Y/N, he’s perfect.”

You stared down at Rustyn, overwhelmed by love and relief. His tiny fingers curled against your chest, his cries subsiding as he felt your warmth.

“We did it,” you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks, happy tears.

“No,” Drew said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You did it. You’re amazing.”

The nurses congratulated you both, while Brooke captured every moment on the camcorder. Drew leaned down, his forehead resting gently against yours.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Thank you for giving me him.”

“What should we name him?” you asked softly, your voice shaky with emotion.

Drew didn’t hesitate. “Rustyn. Rustyn Starkey.”

You nodded, smiling down at your son. “Rustyn. It’s perfect.”

Drew reached out, brushing a finger over Rustyn’s tiny hand.

“Hey, buddy. Welcome to the world. We’ve been waiting for you.”

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 10: The One About the Audibly Loud Lukola FanFic

I’ll address the elephant in the room. And, no, I’m not talking about Jake Dunn’s brown suit! Or, that he’s posing with a man. Or, that Tyler commented “Bellissimo!!!!” on Jake's post.

I don’t think a lot of people understood the connection I was making this morning about “Mis-Directed,” Gwilym Lee, and Jake.  So, now I feel the need to explain because I don’t want people running with a narrative that goes in the opposite direction of where I was taking it.

Sorry, JVN, you’re getting pushed to the side again. I promise, I’ll get to you one day.

Let’s go back two months…

On September 25, Nicola posted to her Instagram stories a link to Alex Babsky’s post, which was a picture of Nicola. She had her hair and make-up done but she was wearing one of her own dresses (the black dress she wore in Australia and Brazil). Babsky captioned his post “[pink bow] @nicolacoughlan in London today for…well, never mind what for actually [laughing emoji with hand over mouth] [winking emoji] [shushing emoji].” Nicola responded, “You’re amazing it was so gorgeous to see you xxx.”

Babksy’s caption sent the fandom into hysteria wondering what the hell Nicola was up to. It didn’t help that this was the same day Luke updated his Instagram bio and used “Xx” and it didn’t help that Nicola was wearing the black dress she allegedly wore on her beach walk in Brazil with Luke.

Do you want to know what I thought the photo of Nicola was from? I’m not going to lie – I thought it was pre-wedding makeup. Seriously, not kidding. It reminded me of my own wedding day. Formal hair and makeup and my own dress that was easy to take off without messing up the hair and makeup. I never said I wasn’t a little bit delulu.

On November 5, an author named Lucy Parker announced on her Instagram feed that she had a new Audible book called “Mis-Directed” being released in February 2025. The post came with pictures of Nicola wearing the black dress and the same hair and makeup as the September 25 post. Nicola (presumably) is reading the part of Hattie Murton, and Gwilym Lee (presumably) is reading the part of Anthony Rafe.

Oh, okay.

Turns out, I was wrong.

So, Nicola and Luke didn’t get married.

Fine.

I have always liked crows.

But, wait a minute – what the fuck is this Audible book about? A woman who stars in a romantic drama called “Leicester Square” (what the fuck?) which was adapted from a best-selling romance novel (what the fuck??). Then, in comes our antagonist, Anthony Rafe, who plays opposite of Hattie and, let me quote here, “But when very real chemistry sparks during their scripted love scenes, Hattie begins to think the industry’s legendarily heartless Bad Guy [Anthony] might just a have a pulse after all. And Anthony, for his part, is caught off-guard by the way his heart races when he’s around his aggravating onscreen lover. As reality starts to imitate art a little too close for comfort, the world’s most unlikely couple might just have more in common than they thought…” (what the fuck???).

Let’s start with Leicester Square. What the hell is Leicester Square? Oh, the name of the fake television show on which Hattie and Anthony star. Sure, Jan. Is it odd to anyone else that Leicester Square is the name of the location of where the London premiere of Bridgerton Season 3 took place? You know, the event that happened hours before Papsmear.

Then we have the make-believe show being adapted from a best-selling romance novel. Mmm hmm.

Let’s try and not make the connection between Luke and Anthony. Mmm hmm.

And, let’s add fuel to the fire and have two co-stars falling in love with each other.

Yeah, we get it. It’s a Lukola FanFic being read by none other than Nicola. I mean, the only way it could be any better is if Luke was reading the part of Anthony Rafe! But, no, that part is being read by Gwilym Lee (who is fantastic in everything he does, by the way).

Who is Gwilym Lee? Well, he’s an actor (my father calls him “Midsomer”). Ask Mr. Google about him. But, if you check out his Instagram feed, you will find that he knows Jake and has since, at least, 2022. Is it possible that Nicola met Gwilym through Jake? Yeah, it is.

Now, why do I find this situation intriguing? Specifically, why did I find the post from Jake this morning posing with Gwilym interesting (and a bit shady)? Let me explain.

The Jakholes took the “Mis-Directed” FanFic as shade towards the Lukolas. Yes, they went there because that FanFic does not (in the least) fit nicely into their Jakola narrative. I mean, if it wasn’t shade to the Lukolas, how weird the storyline must have been for Jake! The writing was audibly on the wall, in big red letters, but the Jakholes chose to spin it into something messier than my hair in the morning after sleeping on it wet.

What exactly is this theory? Well, per the Jakholes, Nicola hates the Lukola fandom so much that she sat and read (likely, for hours) this Lukola-coded FanFic just to spite us! I mean, Anthony is a bad boy in this story and “everyone loves to hate” him (don’t forget, Luke became the devil incarnate after Papsmear). And, Hattie is tired of the “brutal press, overly invested fans, and a cutthroat industry…[that] would give even Pollyanna an edge of cynicism.” The Jakholes believe this means Nicola is saying she’s really in love with Jake and she wants us all to know that by reading a Harlequin-style romance about a woman who falls in love with her costar! Oh, my God!! How could she?!

What in the actual fuck are the Jakholes drinking with this bullshit? I know, I know. I shouldn’t expect anything better from people who ship Jake with Nicola. In fact, if I was a Jakhole, I might buy into this conspiracy theory. But, I’m not a fucking Jakhole. And, guess what Jakholes? I don’t mind breaking the hearts of Lukolas by saying we’re probably never going to see sexy-hot Brazil pictures of Luke and Nicola, so I don’t mind telling Jakholes to put this theory back into Davy Jones’ locker and feed it to that bitch Kraken.

Let’s talk a bit further about the absurdity of this “Nicola is shading Lukola” subplot from Hell.

We will pretend Nicola hates Luke. She hates Lukola. She baits the Lukola fandom for shits and giggles.

What would this make Nicola?

It would make her a villain, for starters (and “villain” is me being extremely nice).

More importantly, it would make Nicola a PR nightmare.

Even if Nicola and Luke despised each other, do you believe Netflix, Bridgerton, and Shonda Land would allow Nicola to play games with the Lukola fandom? Talk about playing with fire!

The reality is the lines between Polin and Lukola are heavily blurred at this point. I hate to say it – and maybe a lot of you will view me as a complete asshole after I say this – but, if I learned Nicola was shading the Lukolas (therefore, in my opinion, trolling Luke), I would not be interested in Bridgerton Season 4. Or, Season 5. Or, any season after that. Or, in Nicola, for that matter. You’re welcome to have your own opinion about this but I would feel incredibly betrayed, and not just by Nicola. On top of that, for me, Polin has become Lukola. They’re so blurred, they don’t even resemble a line anymore. Maybe that’s a bad position to be in, but that’s where I’m at. Sorry, not sorry.

I’m not going to rehash the breadcrumbs left by Nicola that support Lukola – if you know, you know (or you can catch up by spending an afternoon on Tumblr). Even Luke, in his own way, leaves Lukola-coded crumbs. We also have damn convincing evidence that Netflix, Bridgerton, and Shonda Land support Lukola. I mean, even they’re blurring the lines with “Nicola and Luke’s Cutest Moments” and interestingly timed images of Polin. So, do you think they’re going to let Nicola fuck with that on a public forum?

That would be a cold, hard NO.

But, this Audible book – “Mis-Directed” – is loud and made louder because Nicola is reading it.

So, what is this Audible book? Shade? Or, Nicola being cutesy? I’m going to place my bets on the latter solely because, like I said, the Corporate Office is not going to let Nicola shade Lukola because it has a direct effect on Polin.

That’s not to say that the excitement of this Lukola-coded “Mis-Directed” FanFic wasn’t attacked by the Jakholes from all sides, and the wind – for the moment – was kicked out of it. That’s a different story for a different day.

But, what I found so intriguing about Jake’s post today is that, of all the people he could have included in his photo (because there’s obviously lots of people at this event), he chose Gwilym. And, this means people will look into Gwilym. People will realize that Gwilym is the other side of “Mis-Directed.” People will realize Jake and Gwilym are friends. People will realize that Jake’s friend is reading a Lukola-themed romance novel with Nicola.

And, if we agree that the book is not shade towards the Lukolas and we agree that Jakola is not real, what is the significance of the connection between Jake and Gwilym? Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m overthinking it. But, the connection – at least in my mind (and it’s been there since November 5) – is that Jake supports “Mis-Directed” because he supports Lukola and he has always been there, helping Nicola lay the breadcrumbs. He wanted people to look into Gwilym and make the connection. Jake could very well be the one who suggested Gwilym read the part of Anthony. Jake is the degree of separation.

I want to close this out by noting that Jake also liked the post Nicola has pinned on her Instagram grid – the black and white one about her Time 100 article. You know, the one where Nicola says, “A lot of people really want me to marry Luke.” Follow the links and it will take you to this article. That’s an interestingly placed like by Jake, in my opinion – as is his photo op with Gwilym.

[wogglefroggie]

As a Christian, it kills me that these people use Christianity as an excuse to be abusive. Those people were not Christian. They said they were Christian, they went to church like Christians, and they looked like Christians—but they didn't act like Christians, and that's what matters. Christians are supposed to try to imitate Jesus.

Jesus would not drive someone to suicide.

That's not what love looks like. I don't know what god these people worship that makes them think that this is okay, but it's certainly not the same one I believe in. The God I know is a God of love, actual unconditional love, who doesn't force himself on anyone.

If you are a Christian and you feel that it's your job to tell people whether or not they are sinning, you're wrong. You're not God. You don't get to decide who's sinning and who's not. If God wanted you to be his judge, he'd ask you. And even if he did, he has literally never once asked someone to change who they are. Their behaviours and actions, yes. But never who they are. If God doesn't do it, what gives you the right?

There's a story in the Bible where someone brings an adulteress to Jesus for judgment. The norm at the time was for people who committed adultery to be stoned, so that's what everyone was expecting. However, Jesus tells them to stop, and says that a person who has never sinned must throw the first stone.

Unless you are as perfect as Jesus Christ, you may not decide someone's fate. Period.

I promise, if God considers queerness wrong (and I don't think he does, but that's a whole other post), he has it under control. He can tell people. He doesn't need your help. Right now, all you're doing is making things infinitely worse by actively driving people away from the church. Stop.

sorry to keep talking about such depressing shit but there's something so grim about leelah alcorns parents saying they loved her while misgendering her to the extent that reports had to be like "we loved [her] unconditionally. We loved [her] no matter what. I loved my [daughter]. People need to know that I loved [her]. [She] was a good kid, a good [girl]."

like you drove to her kill herself with just how much you did not love her and just how conditional it was.

but then again there's always something to be said about parents meaning "i loved my son i had power over, not the woman she actually was" in situations like that

something something no hate quite like Christian love

[etheraltides]

Shelter in the Storm

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summarize: Rafe is acting weird during the storm and you’re about to find out why

Warning(s): mention of gun, protective Rafe.

A/N: feedback always make me happier, love y’all – also tysm for all the love in my fics

The storm outside was relentless, sheets of rain hammering against the windows. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a low growl that felt too close, too ominous. Rafe stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the faint glow of the firelight. His jaw was tense, his hands flexing open and shut at his sides.

You had packed a bag and driven to Rafe's earlier today when you received a warning in your phone about the upcoming storm, not wanting to risk staying at yours to see the damage - your small house in the Cut had barely survived in the last one and neither you nor Rafe wanted to risk it. Not when his place was as much as yours as his.

You watched him from the couch, bundled up in an oversized sweater, your book abandoned beside you. He hadn’t spoken much since the phone call earlier, but his restlessness told you everything. Something was wrong.

“Rafe.” you said softly, pulling his attention away from the storm.

He turned, his blue eyes darker than usual, stormier. He didn’t respond, just studied you for a moment like he was trying to memorize every detail. It wasn’t unusual for him to brood, but tonight, something felt different. He never got that weird over business that went wrong.

“You’ve been pacing for twenty minutes, quiet ever since I've arrived. What’s going on, baby?” you asked, your voice laced with concern.

Rafe exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

You frowned, sitting up straighter. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”

“It’s not shutting you out, alright? ” he snapped, then immediately softened his tone as he noticed you flinch, his chest tightening with guilty. “It’s keeping you safe.”

“From what?”

His eyes flicked away, unable to hold your gaze. His silence was answer enough.

“Rafe…” You stood, crossing the room to stand in front of him. Your hand rested lightly on his clothed chest. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He hesitated, torn between wanting to protect you and needing to tell someone. He didn't like to keep things from you. Finally, he sighed. “You remember Morroco?”

Your brow furrowed. “The trip? Of course.”

He had called you to meet him by the beach, kissing you goodbye as he said he had an important last meeting to close a massive deal and that it'd probably take him a few weeks before he was back.

“It wasn't just a trip.” he said bitterly. “It’s a mess. A deal went sideways, I went after Groff to get my money back and then... Then there was this blue crown treasure hunt with those... pogues. We crossed some people." His jaw clenched. “Now they’re coming for me.”

Your blood ran cold as you tried to process everything. Not even paying a big attention to the fact that Rafe had lied to you. “They?”

“Mercenaries” he admitted, the word dripping with disdain. “Hired guns who don’t care about anything but the paycheck and that fucking crown that slipped away from our fingers."

Fear pricked at the edges of your mind, you could hear your heartbeats in your ears. Mercenaries. “And you think they’ll come here, after you?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I’m not taking any chances.”

You stepped closer, your hands gripping his arms. “Rafe, we should call someone - Shoupe, the poli—”

“No,” he interrupted sharply. “The cops won’t do anything. I’ll handle it, okay? I can take care of my own shit."

“You can’t handle this alone, Rafe. We're talking about mercenaries and not a cougar whose money went sideways in a deal!” you argued, your voice rising slightly.

“I’m not letting you get involved,” he said firmly, his hands resting on your shoulders. His touch was warm, grounding.

“I’m already involved,” you countered, your voice softening. “I care about you, Rafe. That means I’m in this with you, whether you like it or not.”

His expression cracked, the tough exterior slipping to reveal the vulnerability underneath. “You don’t get it,” he whispered, his hands sliding down your arms. “You’re the only thing I’ve got that’s good. If something happens to you because of me—” He broke off, shaking his head.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” you said, stepping even closer. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. “You’re here. You’ll keep me safe.”

He stared at you, his breath hitching slightly. “You have too much faith in me,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“I have the right amount,” you whispered back.

For a moment, the tension hung heavy between you, the storm outside roaring as if reflecting the chaos inside him. Then, before you could say anything else, Rafe’s hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks.

“You’re so damn stubborn,” he muttered, a small, almost pained smile tugging at his lips.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words were swallowed as his lips met yours. The kiss was desperate, almost frantic, like he needed to remind himself you were here, with him, safe. His hands slid into your hair, holding you to him as if letting go wasn’t an option.

Your hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. The warmth of his body, the way he kissed you — it all felt like a promise, and a plea rolled into one.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing heavy. “I’m not letting them get near you,” he vowed, his voice raw.

“They won’t,” you assured him, nodding as your hands smoothed over his chest.

He kissed you again, slower this time, his hands skimming down your sides. When he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around your waist, you felt the full weight of his fear and his determination.

“I should send you away,” he muttered against your hair, his lips brushing your temple. “Somewhere safe. Away from Outer Banks."

You leaned back, meeting his gaze. “No. I’m staying right here. With you.”

Rafe stared at you, his jaw tightening. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” you said with a small smile, not wanting him to know how terrified you actually were. “But so are you. We’re a good match, remember?"

Despite himself, he chuckled, his grip on you tightening. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way,” you teased.

He didn’t answer; he just pressed another kiss on your forehead before pulling you into his chest. His hand smoothed over your back, lingering there as if the simple act could protect you from the world.

After the conversation, the weight of the threat hanging over him, Rafe couldn’t let you out of his sight. He needed to feel you close, needed to know you were safe in a way that words couldn’t assure him - and it didn't help that you decided to organize everything that was out of place, moving between the rooms without saying anything. He knew you were stressed. You always clean whenever anxiety hits you.

“C’mon,” he murmured, his voice low as his arms slid around your waist.

You blinked up at him, confused. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your cheeks flushed. “I can walk, Rafe.”

“Not tonight,” he said, shaking his head. “Let me do this.”

Before you could protest, Rafe bent down and swept you into his arms as if you weighed nothing. You let out a soft yelp of surprise, your arms instinctively looping around his neck.

“Rafe—”

“Shh,” he murmured, glancing down at you with a small, almost teasing smirk. “Just let me take care of you for once, okay?”

You pressed your lips together, your cheeks warming at the way he held you so effortlessly, his grip steady and secure. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a calming rhythm that contrasted with the chaos of the storm outside.

The walk to the bedroom was silent, save for the sound of the rain pounding against the roof. Rafe nudged the door open with his foot, carrying you inside. The room was dark except for the faint glow of a lamp on the nightstand, casting warm light over the space.

He set you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment before he stepped back. You watched as he moved around the room, double-checking the locks on the windows and door. His movements were methodical, his expression tense.

“Rafe,” you said softly, sitting up. “You don’t have to do all this.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yes, I do.”

You wanted to argue, but something in his tone stopped you. He was carrying more than just worry — it was guilt, fear, and the overwhelming need to protect you. It was his way of tricking himself into believing he had some control over the whole situation.

Once he was satisfied, Rafe returned to the bed. You noticed the subtle way he opened the drawer of his bedside table, checking the loaded gun inside.

Your stomach tightened. “Do you really think it’ll come to that?”

His gaze flicked to you, softening slightly. “It’s just a precaution,” he said, his voice steady.

You nodded, though the thought of him having to use it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Come here,” he said, holding out a hand.

You crawled toward him, settling into his arms as he pulled you close. His body was warm, solid, and the way his arms wrapped around you made you feel like nothing in the world could touch you.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“What about you?” you asked, your voice muffled against his chest.

“I’ll sleep,” he promised. “Just need to make sure you’re out first.”

You frowned but didn’t push further. His hand smoothed over your back in slow, soothing strokes, lulling you into a sense of security.

Eventually, your breathing evened out, and Rafe let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He stayed awake, his eyes scanning the room, his ears attuned to every sound beyond the rain. Every creak of the house set his muscles on edge, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. But then he’d look down at you—your peaceful face, your fingers loosely curled against his chest — and the storm inside him would quiet, even if just for a moment.

Carefully, so as not to wake you, Rafe reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of your cheek.

“You don’t even know how much you mean to me,” he whispered, his voice so soft it was nearly drowned out by the rain.

His hand moved to your shoulder, then down your arm, his touch light, almost reverent. He wanted to memorize every detail—the way your skin felt against his, the rise and fall of your breathing, the warmth you radiated.

For a long time, he just watched you, his thumb idly brushing against your arm.

No one would hurt you. Not the mercenaries, not anyone. He’d burn the world down before he let anyone take you from him.

When his exhaustion finally began to creep in, Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. Even if it's the last thing I do.”

With one hand resting on the gun in the drawer and the other wrapped protectively around you, Rafe finally allowed his eyes to close, the storm outside fading into the background.

As long as you were in his arms, nothing else mattered.

[dissapointu]

hi!! i love your writing! i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to their partner looking really good??

OMG YES, LET’S GO. You’re serving looks, and these characters are LOSING it.

Jinx

Jinx is walking into the room, probably rambling about some crazy plan she has to blow something up, but then she sees you. Full stop. Like, rewind sound effects stop. Her jaw drops, her eyes go wide, and she’s just standing there with a completely dumbfounded look on her face.

“WHO LET YOU LOOK LIKE THAT?!” she yells, pointing at you like it’s your fault. And then, without waiting for an answer, she’s giggling and spinning around you like a little tornado, tugging at your outfit and gushing about how good you look. But it’s Jinx, so she’ll probably throw in something like:

“I could never wear that—I’d blow it up in five minutes. BUT YOU?! You’re, like, my shiny bombshell baby now!”

Vi

Okay, so Vi acts all tough and cool, right? But when she sees you? Girl is GONE. She leans back in her chair, smirks, and tries to play it cool.

“Damn, babe, where’s the fire? Oh wait—it’s YOU.”

She totally thinks she’s being smooth, but her ears are turning red, and she cannot stop staring. She’ll make some excuse to touch you, too, like fixing a stray hair or adjusting your jacket, just so she can get a closer look.

“You’re killin’ me here,” she mutters under her breath, and yeah, she’s absolutely whipped.

Sevika

You walk into the bar looking too good, and Sevika’s mid-drink when she sees you. She chokes. Like, literally sputters into her glass because she was NOT READY. She tries to recover, clears her throat, and narrows her eyes at you like you did this on purpose.

“Alright, who are you trying to impress?” she teases, but her voice is all low and growly, and she’s totally jealous of anyone else who gets to see you looking like this.

If you’re lucky, she’ll slide an arm around your waist and pull you close, her mechanical arm whirring a little as she leans in to murmur, “You keep lookin’ like that, I’m gonna have to start a fight just to keep people’s eyes off you.”

Silco

Silco’s usually composed, right? All cold, calculating power. But when he sees you, he goes silent. Like, dead silent. His heterochromatic eyes narrow just slightly, and you can tell he’s looking you over, taking in everything.

“Impressive,” he finally says, his voice smooth but with just enough edge to send a shiver down your spine. He doesn’t say more because he knows you know exactly what he’s thinking, but the way his hand lingers on your arm when he passes you? Yeah, you’ve officially ruined his ability to focus for the rest of the day.

Vander

Vander is polishing a glass behind the bar when you walk in, and the man literally freezes. The glass slips from his hand, clattering onto the counter, and for a moment, he’s just staring at you with this big, goofy grin on his face.

“Look at you,” he says, his voice all warm and soft, like he can’t believe his luck. He’s not one to gush, but you’ll catch him sneaking glances at you all night, shaking his head like, How did I get so lucky?

And when you catch him staring, he’ll just laugh and say, “Can you blame me?”

Ekko

Ekko’s mid-sentence when you walk in, and he just stops talking. Like, whatever he was saying? Gone. Deleted. Replaced by you.

“Uh…damn.” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what to do with himself, because holy crap, you’re stunning. “Okay, but why are you trying to flex on me like this?”

He’ll pretend to pout for like two seconds before breaking into this huge grin and pulling you into a quick spin. “You look incredible. Seriously. You’re making it really hard for me to focus.”

Jayce

Jayce is a talker, so the moment he sees you, he’s throwing out compliments like confetti.

“Wow. Just…wow. Is this legal? You’re stunning. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. Should I keep going? Because I could keep going.”

He’s like a golden retriever, so excited and genuinely in awe, and he’ll definitely try to take like 50 pictures of you, “for science,” but really just because he can’t get over how good you look.

Viktor

Oh, Viktor is a mess. Like, full-on short-circuiting. He notices you immediately, but he’s so shy about it, he pretends to be focused on his work, even though the pen in his hand is hovering three inches above the page.

“You, uh…you look very nice,” he finally mumbles, his face going completely red. But when you catch him staring (because he’s DEFINITELY staring), he’ll push up his glasses and awkwardly add, “I mean, you always do, but tonight, especially…uh…”

Just kiss him already. The poor man can’t handle it.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s the type to notice right away but say nothing—at first. She’ll just smile, that soft little oh, you’ve outdone yourself this time smile, and let you catch her admiring you.

“You look incredible,” she says, her voice calm but with just enough warmth to make your cheeks burn. She’ll offer you her arm, all proper and elegant, and lead you into whatever event you’re attending, acting like it’s your moment to shine.

But don’t let her fool you. Inside, she’s absolutely glowing.

Mel Medarda

Mel is a queen, and she acts like one. So when she sees you, she doesn’t react immediately. No, she takes her time looking you over, a sly smile playing on her lips.

“You’re stunning,” she purrs, her voice dripping with admiration. “But then, I’d expect nothing less from you.”

She’s totally the type to dress even better next time just so you two can be the most powerful, glamorous couple in the room.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa doesn’t do subtle. The moment she sees you, she lets out this low, appreciative hum, her eyes gleaming with approval.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” she says, stepping closer, her presence almost overwhelming. “It’s…intoxicating.”

She’ll rest a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm but affectionate, and you can feel the pride radiating off her. She knows everyone else is looking at you, and she loves it.

Heimerdinger

“Oh, my stars! My dear, you look absolutely radiant!”

Heimerdinger’s ears perk up, and his little mustache twitches with excitement. He’ll walk around you in circles, marveling at your outfit and making a bunch of overly enthusiastic comments about the “design work” and “craftsmanship,” even if it’s just a plain dress.

“You must let me take a closer look at this fabric—it’s magnificent!”

It’s adorable, really.

Salo

Salo’s not one to gush, but he’ll give you this small, approving nod when he sees you.

“You clean up well,” he says, his tone casual but with just enough edge to let you know he’s impressed.

If you’re lucky, you might catch him stealing a glance at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

Scar

Scar sees you and immediately whistles low under his breath.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he says, his grin all crooked and playful. “What’s the occasion, doll?”

He’ll definitely tease you, but you can tell he’s really into it by the way he keeps sneaking closer, like he just can’t help himself.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is blunt, so when she sees you, she just blurts it out:

“Damn, you look good.”

She doesn’t sugarcoat it, doesn’t make it a big thing. But the way her gaze lingers a little too long? Yeah, she’s head over heels.

Lest

Lest is normally composed, but the moment she sees you, she falters.

“You look…” she pauses, searching for the right word, and then just gives up with a little smile. “Amazing.”

It’s simple, but the way she looks at you? Like you’ve hung the moon? That says it all.