#time of jacob’s trouble

[lightman2120]

Stand up for what is true, my brothers and sisters in Christ. Time is short indeed.

[nitttstdsdtoastd]

fanfic got so depressing that there was a suicide hotline on the author’s note

[paulnewman]

there’s still time for that sweet bird of youth musical by the way. catherine zeta jones im looking at you

[chobit92]

The Deputy looks so cool in her wanted poster ☺️

How did they get such a good picture though?

[starfleet-lol]

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

a wild jacob horse in my time of need!!

Hey drawfee fans

[1whoconquers]

Distinct Destinies: How the Church and the Tribulation Fulfill Separate Purposes

In Christian theology, the purposes of the church (ecclesiology) and the tribulation (eschatology) are distinct and serve different roles within the divine plan. Let’s examine these differences and demonstrate how they highlight God’s sovereign plan… The Purpose of the Church: A Mission of Grace The church exists as the Body of Christ, tasked with glorifying God through worship, evangelism, and…

[nervousyoung-milo]

the demons are trying to escape but i won’t let them, they’re my only friends

[godswordnkjv]

[ravencromwell]

Rereading Dickens Christmas Carol for the first time in a long time. And the more I reread, the more it strikes me how seamlessly a queer reading could slip within these pages. Not an especially twee reading, wherein all Scrooge's troubles start and end with grief over Jacob Marley's death. For we know that Scrooge was a "Tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner!" And we know that he and Marley were "two kindred spirits"

And perhaps that very fact makes the similarities to queer life, unintended as they most likely were by Mr. Dickens, achingly poignant to me. Scrooge is, we're told, "secret and self-contained and solitary as an oyster." How much that resonates, for so many of us who shield our innermost selves but from a select group of friends. And we know that Scrooge and Marley were, at the very least, certainly that for one another. Scrooge is Marley's sole mourner; his sole executor and beneficiary; and even Dickens notes, "friend." How reminiscent is that of queer couples across history, estranged from their families?

Scrooge lives in a set of chambers that once belonged to Marley—clearly Dickens wanted us to believe Scrooge gave up his own dwellings after Marley's death to economize. But with only a flicker of change, those chambers become _their chambers, rented by Marley as the senior member of the couple. The place is so desolate Dickens notes "one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and have forgotten the way out again." The perfect abode for two queer misers who wanted no one prying into their business.

Marley's name is still above the door of Scrooge's counting-house: a mark by which, no doubt, Dickens meant to convey Scrooge such a penny-pincher he couldn't bother to have it changed. But a thing can be both! mark of frugality to ludicrous excess and! mark of mourning. "sometimes," Dickens opines, "People new to the

business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names. It was all the same to him."

This is why "death of the author" matters so much, in expanding our interpretations of texts. It is vastly far from the lens Dickens would have intended. But, the idea of a ghost of queerness, so taboo in the society it could barely be glanced at sidewise in this tale that is all about the inexplicable and yet that lingers over everything becomes an astonishing lens through which to read this book. Thinking of Scrooge as a queer man, his "melancholy dinner at his usual melancholy tavern" becomes a eerie prefiguring of the hollowness of days spent by Isherwood's A Single Man. In this universe, little wonder Scrooge doubly hates mention of time with family, marriage, etc. when the precise nature of his grief is both unacknowledged and unacknowledgable.

And readings like this are vital, because the uncomfortable truth is, discrimination doesn't "discriminate between sinners and saints", to borrow a Miranda phrase. It is easy, in my liberal circles, to fight for queer people who hold "the good sorts of politics". But what about men like Michael Hess, culpable for supporting Reagan even as his contemptuous homophobia let the aids epidemic run rampant? How much harder is it to remember Michael had a partner? That he deserves empathy and compassion for being practically tarred and feathered out of the party upon his own aids diagnosis?

Expanding our imaginative universes to include queerness, not as redemptive panacea, but merely as one aspect of identity, personality, often in vicious conflict with others. Even! as we consider those stories equally worthy of being told feels vital if we're ever to truly express the complexity of what queer humanity looks like.

[coffee-and-geto]

“YOU WOULDN’T LIKE ME WHEN I’M HUNGRY!”

“Just warm? I thought you meant I was hot, hot.” “Hot, hot?” “Yeah, I guess I’m a handsome guy, am I not?” You snort. “And so full of yourself.”

pairing: werewolf! satoru gojo x f!reader | kinkoctober

summary: since you were kid, you’ve been friends with satoru gojo. having grown up in the same village, it’s perfectly normal to meet up, laugh in front of a campfire and reminisce about the good old days, isn’t it? not the place or the time to confess your true nature, hmm?

warnings: +18 only, smut, nsfw, childhood friends to lovers, both lived in a small village, firecamp mood, sex (p in v), fingering (f!receiving), doggy style, handjob, bredding kink, full moon, nipple play, dirty talk, talking about being parents, fluff, (if you wanna picture werewolf like it’s same as jacob in twilight).

wc: 3,568

“I’m a werewolf.”

Those words, whispered in the silent night — or almost silent. Unless you count the cicadas’ songs that break the inaudible, sacred stillness of the dark. Under a sky where stars shimmer and the village campfire is the main source of light, casting a fiery glow in Satoru's eyes as he looks at you.

The dry, earthy ground, the scent of pine trees, roasted marshmallows, and the laughter of other young villagers — all back for the famous autumn full moon.

And you, sitting beside your childhood friend — Satoru Gojo.

Who utters words you never thought you’d hear from him, whispered without a care about being overheard. His azure gaze fixed on yours, as though searching the depths of your soul for any reaction besides your obvious shock.

With his hands pressed against the dry ground, his long legs stretched out, his torso turned toward you — every ounce of his attention captivated by you and only you.

As it always has been, hasn’t it?

And out of all the things he could have confessed, this declaration is what passes through his lips, cutting short your laughter and turning it into a gasp.

Then nothing. Silence.

“You— Satoru, what?”

And oh, how he could have fallen for that little frown of yours, so confused, so lost, so utterly adorable.

But he doesn’t repeat his words. He just watches you, lips flat but eyes replacing the smile you knew so well. The glow of the flames licking the campfire’s wood casts orange hues across his face like a phantom’s shadow.

Swallowing hard at his lack of reaction, you glance around, disoriented — your village, your family, your friends, your neighbors. No one seems the least bit troubled, nor does it seem like they’re paying attention to your conversation.

“Sweetheart.”

The nickname makes your panicked heart swell, and Satoru gently anticipates your next move. His rough, warm hand rests over yours, silently asking you not to worry.

“I always thought you’d figure it out on your own one day,” he murmurs.

“What do you mean?” you reply, and he can’t help but chuckle — a low, rumbling sound that almost seems wolfish.

“All the stories since we were kids.” He pauses, giving you time to process. “Our parents told us, and it’s also the history of the village.”

“A story is just a story, Satoru.” You pull your hand from his and prepare to stand up.

Enough with the tasteless jokes.

“This isn’t funny.” And his little heart breaks, because he hates the annoyed tone you take, though he still tries to salvage the situation.

Why the hell did he blurt it out like that?

“Wait, sweetheart,” Satoru pleads, his voice low and husky. His large, warm hand gently catches yours, urging you to sit back down. But as you persist in pulling away, he ends up confessing in desperation, “Am I disgusting to you?”

This time, it’s not the night’s silence that overwhelms you but Satoru’s puppy-dog eyes. Like he’s afraid you’ll walk away from him forever.

“Disgusting? Satoru…” You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. “You know I hate your jokes, and—”

“I’m not lying.” He presses his hand desperately over yours, tugging slightly to make you sit down again. “Do you want me to show you?”

Your eyes widen. “Excuse me? Here? In front of everyone?”

“Everyone already knows. You’re the only one blind to it,” Satoru breathes, standing gracefully without ever letting go of your hand.

“What are you even talking about? And where are you taking me?” you protest, stiffening your legs so he won’t drag you away. But he only chuckles softly, turns toward you, and suddenly hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes (yes, really — nothing more, nothing less).

Only a chuckle answers your protests as you weakly pound your fists against his perfectly sculpted back under his white t-shirt, hiding so much more beneath.

“Satoru fucking Gojo!”

“Hmm, so Satoru is gay and he fucks Gojo?” He bursts into laughter at his own joke, tightening his grip to keep you from falling as he carries you further into the forest of tall pines that have watched you both grow up.

Yet you persist, thrashing about to make him let go — but in vain.

He walks surprisingly fast, as if guided by some instinct, knowing exactly where he’s going. Or maybe he’s been here countless times when you weren’t around — or when you were asleep?

When he finally stops, Satoru carefully sets you down and presses his lips together to stifle his laughter at the sight of your disheveled hair and utterly defeated expression.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you turn your back on him, trying to fix your hair. Your gaze lands on the river running through the forest, its surface shimmering under the moonlight tonight.

Lips press a kiss to your cheek, and you shove Satoru away as he laughs, delighted by your tomato-red face.

“Stop it.” You punch his chest, though he doesn’t budge an inch.

It’s like hitting solid concrete — only slightly softer.

He takes advantage of your moment of confusion to step back and peel off his t-shirt, revealing his muscular chest, pale skin, and far-too-defined V-line.

Your eyes dart away from the sight he’s offering, one even the moon seems to embellish with its rays. But then the sound of a belt buckle clicking open makes your eyes widen.

“Satoru, don’t you dare—”

“Relax, I just don’t want to tear my clothes while transforming. How else am I supposed to get back home after?” He chuckles, giving you time to turn around and offer him some privacy.

You can feel his damned smirk, but you swallow down yet another sharp retort.

It’s always been like this with him. He’d tease you, you’d say you didn’t like it, and then chase him around while convincing yourself it wasn’t funny  —  ignoring the laughter that always bubbled in your chest.

At school, it was the same story. You were practically glued to each other, one always with the other. A constant war between two friends competing over anything and everything. Who would leave the haunted house first, who would blink first, or who could sleep without a nightlight after yet another story about the village’s werewolves.

Since you were kids, you hardly ever kept secrets from one another.

So why does this unpleasant sound of bones cracking and flesh tearing behind you feel both so new and so familiar?

Has Satoru always carried this secret within himself when you spent your evenings together watching movies? Had he tried to tell you, leaving hints for you to eventually uncover the truth?

All those times he managed to climb impossible places no ordinary human could, or when he walked past you and, with one sniff, could tell if you’d changed shampoo?

Or how he seemed to turn into your personal bodyguard at least once a month, and anyone who dared hurt you ended up with a broken limb?

Since middle school, he had always seemed more mature despite his jokester nature. And his physique — how drastically it had changed when he turned 18. If it hadn’t been for the Satoru you knew, you would never have guessed that back then, he was just a young adult.

And now in college, the two of you seemed like proper adults.

Real, young adults, still friends.

Even if kissing your friend on the cheek isn’t exactly common?

Even if sleeping in the same bed with nothing but cuddles and hugs isn’t normal?

Even if you’d both seen each other practically naked under the right circumstances without either of you daring to ogle the other?

A bark snaps you out of your thoughts, and you turn around with a start.

Standing before you is a massive wolf-dog with snow-white fur tinged with silvery hues, and cerulean blue eyes piercing through the forest's shadowy darkness.

You freeze in place, staring at the creature before you. It is both majestic and terrifying.

“Satoru?”

The white wolf barks and rushes toward you, affectionately nuzzling his nose against your stomach before moving up to lick your chin. If it weren’t for his sheer size, he might’ve been mistaken for a puppy.

A tender smile spreads across your lips, and you stroke Satoru’s head, his fur so soft and cool you can’t resist planting a small kiss on it.

“You’re gorgeous.” Another kiss on his snout earns a bark that sounds like joy. “And so cute, and so big, I’d hold you like a plushie all the time if I could.”

He lets out a soft growl against you, lifting his front paws to rest them on your shoulders. In the background, his bushy white tail wags happily.

You cup his face in your hands, noticing the glint of his sharp teeth as he opens his mouth slightly.

“You’re not scary,” you coo, kissing the top of his head, and he squeals in appreciation. “And you’re not disgusting at all, I swear.”

He barks happily once more before bounding away, running around wildly before stopping to howl at the moon.

The sound is so powerful that a shiver runs down your spine.

~~~~

Back in the village, Satoru is already back in his normal form, and you scream in terror when you find him standing completely naked in front of you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips before he puts on the clothes he had tossed onto a fallen tree trunk.

No one seems to notice that you’ve just witnessed a werewolf transformation. According to Satoru, it’s simply because you haven’t realized that nearly half the male population of the village shares the same condition.

On this full moon night, new werewolves are being initiated, others are transforming just for fun like Satoru (since it’s the only time he can do it freely without going mad for the rest of the month while waiting for the next full moon), while some are engaging in reproduction.

Because, as he tells you, a full moon means mating season for werewolves.

But tired of it all, you head back home, with Satoru following closely behind—where no one will return for quite some time.

You collapse onto your bed, immediately curling up under the blanket before scooting over to make space for Satoru.

He doesn’t waste any time.

He slides in beside you, wrapping his strong arms around you to warm you with his naturally higher-than-average body temperature.

“You’re going to be useful in the winter,” you giggle, closing your eyes with a smile, your back pressed firmly against Satoru’s warm chest.

“I’m pretty hot, huh?” he murmurs into your hair, placing a welcome kiss there. No need to wonder what he means anymore, right?

“Mh-hmm,” you hum. “Like a warm comforter.”

Satoru frowns. “Just warm? I thought you meant I was hot, hot.”

“Hot, hot?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m a handsome guy, am I not?”

You snort. “And so full of yourself.”

His embrace tightens around you, and he grazes his lips against the shell of your ear. “Am I?”

“Admit that you aren’t just hot in both ways,” you mutter.

“Because there is a third?” he asks, his breath tickling you.

“Don’t act innocent.”

He settles his head fully onto the pillow, the moonlight filtering through your window caressing his flawless face. “Never said I was.”

And he chuckles when you huff.

Then he returns to his original position, pulling you closer to his chest before gently running his hand along your forearm. His touch is warm, inviting, mischievous—yet affectionate, asking for nothing but a little more closeness.

You sigh, closing your eyes, slightly parting your lips as you let the back of your head rest against his neck.

He takes advantage of your vulnerable position, sliding his arm around your waist and closing any remaining space between you. His thumb traces slow, soft, patient circles over your stomach. Each motion makes you crave more.

So you shift slightly, freeing your torso to give him access to your neck, where his warm, steady breath teases your skin. He must feel it by now—the way your heart races in your chest, how your breathing grows quicker, shallower.

And Satoru, in his sly delight, doesn’t react more than you desire.

He simply lowers his nose to the hollow of your neck and shoulder, brushing his lips against your skin, resisting the primal urge to claim you as his. To mark you as his own.

So you move again, giving him full access to mark your bare neck or shoulder, your ass pressed firmly against him, wriggling just a bit to adjust—or perhaps not.

Satoru presses his lips together as he feels a surge and a quickening heartbeat in his pants, blood rushing to the area. Giving in, he sinks his mouth onto your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses, the wet, noisy sounds of his lips against your skin sending shivers of pleasure through you.

You press yourself impossibly closer to him, guiding one of his large hands to your breast. Your back arches so deliciously against him as he cups the soft mound in his palm.

Between the kisses that turn into hickeys along your trapezius and his hands kneading your breast, teasing your hard nipples, you reach for his other hand with a soft whimper and guide it under your shorts.

He doesn’t waste a second, his already warm hand finding its way to your already puffy clit. He rubs slow, torturous circles, spreading your wetness over it to make things easier. You are now reduced to shallow pants and lewd, adorable noises.

“F-Fuck, Toru,” you whisper, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Let it go, sweetheart,” he murmurs, toying with your intimate area, using his middle finger to spread your lower lips and gently pat your drenched entrance, the tight little ring of resistance testing his patience. “Will you let me take care of you?”

You nod, your eyes fluttering shut as you moan his name again when he breaches the soft, wet resistance of your entrance. His middle finger slips inside you, gently parting your walls as he seeks out that one sweet spot that makes your toes curl.

When he finds it, he rubs it gently, drawing gasps from you while his forefinger plays with your clit, his other hand busy tugging and twisting your nipples under your shirt. He bites down on your neck, slurping your soft skin before pumping his finger into you.

“Feels good?” he asks in a hoarse voice. The sound of him like this — taking care of you while pressing his hardness against your ass — is almost as good as what he’s doing to your body. You squirm against him, relishing the way your movements draw a throb from his length. It feels like he’s about to cum in his pants.

“Such a tease, hmm? Didn’t know this side of you,” he whispers into your ear, sliding a second finger inside you. He thrusts both digits knuckle-deep, curling them perfectly.

You mewl, letting him feel your walls tightening and clenching around his fingers every time he brushes your sweet spot. The slick, wet sounds of your arousal make him groan — did you just throb?

“Close,” you warn, your body folding as the knot in your stomach tightens, teetering on the edge of release. You wince, struggling to control your shallow breaths as your orgasm approaches. “Please, Toru.”

“Cum, baby, cum,” he coaxes, his voice soft and encouraging as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you. His grip tightens on your breast, and his fingers work your clit with relentless precision.

A second later, you come undone, cumming hard on his fingers. Your walls spasm around them, coating them in your warm juices. You bury your face in the pillow, gasping for air as the pleasure courses through you.

Satoru carefully withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste you. “Hmm, tastes as good as I thought you would,” he hums.

“You thought?” you repeat, your voice feeble.

“I never said I was innocent,” he says, echoing his earlier words with a smirk.

“You thought about how I’d taste?” you ask, raising an eyebrow with a skeptical pout.

“Not exactly that dirty, but…” he presses a soft kiss to your temple, “Can you blame me?”

You chuckle softly, sliding your shorts and soaked panties off under the blanket, your thighs damp with sweat and slick. As you shift, Satoru pinches the soft flesh of your rear.

“Didn’t you say tonight was the werewolves’ breeding night?” you tease, a smirk playing on your lips. The mere sight makes him want to cum in his pants.

“Would you let me?”

“I’m just waiting for you,” you say, blowing out a breath.

At those words, he wastes no time, undoing his belt and sliding his pants and boxers down. A damp spot betrays how hard and ready he is, his tip already leaking.

You reach out, wrapping your hand around his flushed, twitching length. It jumps slightly as you stroke him gently, a naughty smile playing on your lips — a sight that nearly drives him wild. You lower your head, giving him a perfect view of your bare ass as you tease him.

Each stroke of your hand makes him bite his lip harder, suppressing a moan. He’s trying to stay composed — he’s a man, after all.

But when you guide his shaft to your swollen lips, rubbing his reddened tip back and forth against your slick entrance, it nearly breaks him. You coat his mushroom tip with your cum, then press it against your tight, dripping hole.

Satoru exhales a trembling sigh, gripping your hips as if to ground himself. His fingers tighten, promising marks that will bloom later on your skin.

“Lemme fuck you, please, sweetheart,” he groans, his voice desperate as he struggles not to buck his hips into you.

And you smile. Such a naughty girl.

You sit up, slipping off your top to feel freer, and then position yourself on all fours, lifting your hips to give him full access to your dripping pussy, which aches to be filled.

You giggle softly, wiggling your hips, burying your face into the pillow.

Satoru takes it as an invitation. He positions himself at your entrance, stroking himself a few times before sliding into you. The stretch is delicious, like something out of a dream.

Your whimpers fill the room, rising into melodic, lewd moans — music to his ears.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Satoru hisses, gripping your hips to pull you closer, sliding his cock all the way inside until his tip kisses your womb. When he bottoms out, he knows it.

Even though he’s on the verge of cumming, Satoru wants to make sure you cum with him — to breed you thoroughly. His babies. Making you a mom.

The thought makes his thrusts gentle at first, letting you adjust to his size. But when you push your hips back and babble for him to fuck you for real…

He snaps.

He’s pounding into you, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, adding to the obscene wet sounds filling the room. Your ass meets his hips again and again, your walls gripping him tighter each time he withdraws, only to pull him back in harder.

It’s not just your bodies syncing but your hearts too. Breathless pants, gasps, pleading moans, and filthy whispers intertwine, creating something sacred between you.

“Toru, ah, please, deeper,” you whine, your hands gripping the sheets as he fucks you so perfectly.

“Deeper?” he repeats, his voice teasing as he grabs your hair gently, pulling your head back to arch your spine. It gives him even better access to the sweet spot he intends to flood with his seed. “You want me to be a daddy? And you a mommy? Cute little werewolf babies?”

“Fuck,” you moan, clenching tighter around him. “I want it. I want to be full of your cum and have babies.”

“So good, so tight,” he groans, his thrusts relentless. “Promise. You’re mine, remember?” But your nod isn’t enough for him. “Say it, sweetheart.”

“I’m yours, I’m all yours, Toru,” you sob, tears streaming as you teeter on the edge. “I-I’m close,” you babble, your hips moving in tandem with his.

Satoru leans over you, his chest pressing against your arched back. His cock twitches as he growls, “Gonna take my load? Gonna cum so fucking much, yeah?”

One final thrust sends you both spiraling.

You cum hard, clenching so tightly around him that it’s a miracle his length fits inside you. He fills you with his warm seed, so much that it spills out in thick spurts.

Heartbeats pounding, breaths ragged, Satoru softens inside you, slowly pulling out. He kneels to watch the mix of your juices and his spill from your stretched hole.

He slides two fingers back in, gently pushing his seed back inside. “Need it to stay here,” he murmurs, patting your ass and pressing a kiss to your back. “Wanna go back to the village later?” Satoru asks.

You shake your head. “Just stay with me. With the future mother of your children.”

“Hmm, I think I can get used to this. Or maybe ‘wife’ is a better title?” He collapses beside you, a tired but peaceful smile on his face.

“Husband too,” you whisper, your voice filled with warmth.

a/n: thank you guys to have read this silly fic <3 on my period rn and it sucks but anyway. lot of tests coming so i think the stress is the reason haha. this time i don’t have a lot to say, just that writing about satoru is the best thing lol. some memes about wolves come to my mind i just wanna add them somewhere lmao

like and reblogs are always appreciated as comments <33

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @elliesndg

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar

@monokaix

[thejudahite]

Many are worried about the Mark of the Beast, but fail to realise that it's image will be worshipped before the mark is released. Discover the truth about the image of the beast and prepare yourself spiritual for the end times. From the best selling author of babylon and the 144,000, this book will change your perspective on life in america and worldwide. (https://www.amazon.com/Image-Judah-Yisrael/dp/B0C2SMKNTS/)

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  dialogue  prompts  taken  from  nosferatu  (2024),  directed  by  robert  eggers.  feel  free  to  edit  and  change  as  you  seem  fit.  ) 

❛ come to me. ❜

❛ a guardian angel. a spirit of comfort. spirit of any celestial sphere. anything. hear my call. ❜

❛ you wakened me from an eternity of darkness. ❜

❛ you are not for the living. you are not for human kind. ❜

❛ and shall you be one with me ever-eternally? ❜

❛ come here. there’s nothing to be afraid of. ❜

❛ i wish i could stay, my love. ❜

❛ why have you killed these beautiful flowers? ❜

❛ i must tell you my dream. ❜

❛ i’d never been so happy as that moment… as i held hands with death. ❜

❛ i wish you to have all you deserve. ❜

❛ you mustn’t leave. i love you too much. ❜

❛ i will stay with you until you are fast asleep. ❜

❛ uh, forgive me. i only wish to stay one night. ❜

❛ by god’s name, never speak of that castle. ❜

❛ i banish you, i banish you with garlic. ❜

❛ beware of his shadow. ❜

❛ the shadow covers you in a nightmare. ❜

❛ you are late. the midnight hour has passed. ❜

❛ i wish you to do as i request. ❜

❛ i will be addressed as the honor of my blood demands it.❜

❛ speak not of it again! ❜

❛ take heed what you do. ❜

❛ i might ease your wound. ❜

❛ come by the fire. ❜

❛ your face shows you unwell. ❜

❛ do you ever feel at times as if you were not… as if you were not a person? ❜

❛ look at the sky. look at the sea. does it never call to you, urge you? ❜

❛ you are fortunate in your love. ❜

❛ now are we neighbors. ❜

❛ it is late. you must wish to retire. ❜

❛ i have been enduring the most irregular dreams. i fear i am taken ill. ❜

❛ it is a black omen to journey in poor health. you will remain and well rest yourself. ❜

❛ dream of me. only me. ❜

❛ oh, he’s coming to me. ❜

❛ i cannot resist you, my love. ❜

❛ i am no one. i am his servant. ❜

❛ look, this is a pretty one. his lordship likes the pretty ones… ❜

❛ you are lost in his shadow. ❜

❛ soon i will no longer be a shadow to you. ❜

❛ soon our flesh shall embrace and we shall be as one. ❜

❛ i have not failed your lordship! ❜

❛ embrace me, my boy. i am so rejoiced to see you. ❜

❛ my dear creature, yes, i am he, and i am hither come to help you. ❜

❛ my dreams grow darker. ❜

❛ does evil come from within us or from beyond? ❜

❛ i shall persist to join you every night… first in sleep, then in your arms. ❜

❛ everything will be mixed with abomination, and you’ll be knee-deep in blood. ❜

❛ you are promised to me! ❜

❛ i will end this plague. this devil. ❜

❛ he hasn’t found you. ❜

❛ i feared i’d never see you again. ❜

❛ you shall crave of me nothing. ❜

❛ the bells of dawn shall toll in despair of my coming. and i shall taste of you. ❜

❛ pray, forgive me for all the troubles i have caused you. ❜

❛ i am only glad you have become yourself again. ❜

❛ may i… stay with you tonight? ❜

❛ this creature is a force more powerful than evil. it is death itself. ❜

❛ i have seen things in this world that would’ve made isaac newton crawl back into his mother’s womb. ❜

❛ i have wrestled with the devil as jacob wrestled the angel in peniel. ❜

❛ if we are to tame darkness, we must first face that it exists. ❜

❛ i have felt you crawling like a serpent in my body. ❜

❛ love is inferior to you. ❜

❛ i told you, you are not of humankind. ❜

❛ i am an appetite. nothing more. ❜

❛ i lay within the darkest pit. till you did wake me, enchantress, and stirred me from my grave. ❜

❛ you are my affliction. ❜

❛ i care nothing of your afflictions. ❜

❛ yet even now we are fated. ❜

❛ your passion is bound to me. ❜

❛ you cannot love. ❜

❛ yet i cannot be sated without you. ❜

❛ remember how once we were? ❜

❛ i abhor you. ❜

❛ i will leave you three nights. tonight was the first. ❜

❛ tonight you denied yourself, and thereby, you suffer me to vanish up the lives of those you love. ❜

❛ you revel in my torture. ❜

❛ upon the third night, you will submit, or he you call your husband shall perish by my hand. ❜

❛ till you bid me come shall you watch the world become as naught. ❜

❛ tell me, what is this insufferable darkness? ❜

❛ nothing you can say will shake me, for there is a devil in this world, and i have met him. ❜

❛ i’ve brought this evil upon us. ❜

❛ i sought company. i sought… tenderness, and i called out. ❜

❛ at first, it was sweet. i had never known such bliss. yet it turned to torture. ❜

❛ it was you that gave me the courage to be free of my shame. ❜

❛ he took me as his lover then, and now he has come back. ❜

❛ all my sleeping thoughts are of him every night. ❜

❛ don’t touch me! i am not to be touched. ❜

❛ i’ll be good. i promise. ❜

❛ you could never please me as he could. ❜

❛ yes! take me! ❜

❛ kiss me. kiss my heart. ❜

❛ let him see. let him see our love. ❜

❛ without you, i will become a demon. ❜

❛ you’re safe with me. ❜

❛ keep away from me. i am unclean. ❜

❛ he will murder you if i do not go to him. ❜

❛ kill him i will. he shall never harm you again. ❜

❛ i can weep no longer, for i have no more tears to shed. ❜

❛ the grim reaper wields his heavy scythe with every change of wind. ❜

❛ the monster left you to the wolves, yet you prevailed. ❜

❛ his pull to me is so powerful, so terrible, yet my spirit cannot be evil as his. ❜

❛ we must know evil to be able to destroy it. ❜

❛ you are our salvation. ❜

❛ i bid you, come to me. ❜

❛ your oath re-pledged. so too shall be our flesh. you are mine. ❜

[rose24207]

When mom looses her cool

Summary: You finally snap after you catch your kids lying about a party and afterwards teach them a lesson about responsibility.

Genre: Mafia!Lando, Dad!Lando, angst, fluff

TW: Mafia, lying

A/N: wow I haven’t post about the mafia Norris family for so long! Anyways Amelia is 17 and Jacob is 16! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The Norris household was usually a place of balance, despite the unconventional family dynamics. Lando Norris, the head of a vast, shadowy empire, had a knack for handling chaos with an iron fist cloaked in charm. You, his wife, were the gentler counterbalance to his commanding presence—a source of love and calm for the family.

But every calm sea has its storm, and this storm had been brewing for weeks.

Amelia and Jacob were no strangers to pushing limits. They loved to test boundaries, usually with harmless antics. However, this time they had crossed the line in a way that even Lando couldn’t immediately smooth over.

It began with a lie.

“We’re staying over at Olivia’s house,” Amelia had said casually at dinner the night before, her fork poking at her salad.

“Yeah, her parents are hosting a movie night for us,” Jacob chimed in, nodding a little too enthusiastically.

You raised an eyebrow but said nothing, trusting them. Lando, ever the observer, leaned back in his chair, his gaze flickering between his children. “Just don’t get into trouble,” he said simply, his voice calm but laced with warning.

The kids had nodded eagerly, but their plan was anything but innocent.

Hours later, instead of watching movies under the supervision of Olivia’s parents, Amelia and Jacob found themselves in the middle of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. It was a full-blown underground rave, complete with deafening music, strobe lights, and an eclectic mix of people who had no business being there.

Jacob had been reluctant at first, but Amelia, ever the instigator, convinced him. “Come on, Jake! We’ll just stay for an hour. No one will find out.”

Famous last words.

Back at home, you were in bed reading, while Lando was reviewing some work on his laptop. A ping on his phone drew his attention. He frowned as he read the text.

“Security team flagged something,” he said, his voice calm but tight.

You looked up. “What?”

Lando held up his phone, showing a blurry image of Amelia and Jacob entering the warehouse. “That’s not Olivia’s house.”

Your blood boiled. For once, you didn’t feel calm or understanding. You felt betrayed.

“I’m going to call them,” you said, reaching for your phone.

Lando placed a hand over yours, his voice steady. “No. Let them finish digging their hole. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

“But—”

“They’re teenagers. They’re going to screw up,” he said, his tone even. “It’s how we handle it that matters.”

You took a deep breath and reluctantly agreed, but the anger simmered beneath your calm exterior.

The kids stumbled into the kitchen the next morning, looking worse for wear. Amelia’s eyeliner was smudged, and Jacob’s usually pristine hair was a mess. They clearly hadn’t slept much.

“Morning,” Amelia mumbled, heading straight for the fridge.

“Rough night?” Lando asked casually, sipping his coffee.

Amelia froze, the milk carton halfway to the counter. Jacob shot her a panicked look.

“Uh, no. Just stayed up late watching movies,” Amelia said, forcing a smile.

“Is that so?” you asked, your voice unusually sharp as you entered the kitchen.

Both kids turned to you, their smiles faltering. You placed your hands on your hips, leveling them with a glare that could shatter glass.

“Olivia’s house must have a rave room now,” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

Jacob’s eyes widened. Amelia, ever the bold one, tried to play it cool. “Mom, it’s not what it looks like—”

“Oh, really?” you snapped. “Because it looks like my children lied to my face, snuck off to an illegal party, and came home thinking they could get away with it!”

Amelia winced. Jacob looked like he wanted to disappear.

“We didn’t mean for it to get out of hand,” Jacob tried, his voice small.

“That’s your defense?” you shot back. “Jacob, you could’ve been arrested. Or worse!”

Lando, who had been quietly watching from the corner, finally spoke up. “Alright, let’s all take a breath.”

But you weren’t done. “No, Lando. I’ve had enough of their reckless behavior. This isn’t just a mistake; it’s disrespectful!”

Amelia blinked, stunned. You rarely raised your voice. Seeing you this angry was new territory, and she didn’t like it.

“We’re sorry,” she said quickly.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” you replied. “You lied to us, put yourselves in danger, and then had the nerve to come back here and act like nothing happened!”

Amelia and Jacob were marched into the living room, where you laid out the consequences.

“No phones for two weeks,” you began.

“What?!” Amelia protested.

“And you’ll both be spending your weekends helping out at the community center,” you continued, ignoring her outburst.

Jacob groaned. “Come on, Mom, that’s not fair.”

“You’re lucky we’re not grounding you until graduation,” you shot back.

Lando, sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, finally chimed in. “Listen to your mother. She’s being generous.”

The kids fell silent, exchanging a glance. They had expected their father to be the hardliner, not you.

The silence in the house was palpable for the rest of the day. Amelia retreated to her room, while Jacob sulked in the den. Lando found you in the kitchen later, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea.

“You handled that well,” he said, his tone amused.

You shot him a look. “Don’t start.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s good for them to see this side of you. Keeps them on their toes.”

“They need to understand that their actions have consequences,” you said, your voice softening. “I’m tired of them thinking they can get away with anything.”

“They’ll learn,” Lando assured you. “Trust me. They’re more scared of you than they’ve ever been of me.”

Later that night, Amelia knocked on Jacob’s door.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

She flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t believe Mom yelled at us.”

Jacob sighed. “I know. I think I’d rather deal with Dad’s lectures.”

“Same,” Amelia admitted. “She was scary.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Amelia added, “Do you think we went too far this time?”

Jacob glanced at her. “Yeah. We screwed up.”

Amelia nodded. “We should probably apologize.”

“Yeah.”

The next morning, you and Lando were in the kitchen when Amelia and Jacob shuffled in.

“Mom?” Amelia began hesitantly.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“We’re sorry,” Jacob said. “For lying and…everything else.”

“We know we messed up,” Amelia added. “It won’t happen again.”

You studied them for a moment before nodding. “Thank you. But this doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”

“We know,” they said in unison.

Lando smirked. “Smart kids.”

You shot him a look, but your lips twitched in a small smile. Maybe, just maybe, they were learning.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hxxi3, @same1995, @amatswimming

[storiesforallfandoms]

height advantage ~ jacob elordi

word count: 2857

request?: yes!

“Can you write how a 5’2 photographer was having trouble getting good shots at the Met Gala because people kept pushing in front of her so Jacob Elordi held her hand and helped her get to the front so she could get some good shots and then she gave him her business card to hook up in the future please and thank you”

description: in which the tall actor helps the short photographer to get good shots

pairing: jacob elordi x short!female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

Being short as a photographer was a major disadvantage. Sure, sometimes you were able to get to the front of the pack at events, but most times the other photographers were too hungry for the money shots to remember common decency. You were shoved and stood in front of and completely ignored on more than one occasion. Most nights, you were lucky to get some good pictures of the first few people to arrive at the red carpet. You were terrified that your agency was going to can you soon.

You were given the opportunity to photograph the next MET Gala. It would be huge for your career, if you could get any pictures. You were determined not to let anyone shove in front of you tonight. You were going to get good pictures tonight. You were determined.

There was a dull chatter among the photographers as they waited for the event to start. It all went away basically immediately when the first vehicle pulled up. The interviewers got into place as every camera was immediately raised. The dull chatter became yells and camera flashes as the first celebrity stepped onto the carpet. You had been holding onto the barrier to really make sure no one stood in front of you, but now there were enough bodies pressing you against the barrier that you felt confident that you wouldn’t be moved. You got a lot of good snaps as more guests began to arrive. You were feeling almost giddy.

You paused long enough to check a photo you had just taken, but that was enough for a photographer next to you to start elbowing you to get in front of you.

“Hey, watch it!” you snapped.

“You snooze, you lose, kid,” he said before stepping on front of you.

You tried to step around him, but the space around him was quickly filled in. You sighed and got onto the tips of your toes, raising you camera over your head and hoping the shots you were getting were good ones.

Someone hit your arm and snapped, “Move, you’re blocking my shot!”

You almost dropped your camera and turned to curse out the person who hit you proved to be a mistake when you were just shoved further. You started to panic. You couldn’t see the red carpet anymore, so you certainly weren’t going to get any good pictures. Your boss was going to kill you if you came back with a small handful of pictures again.

“Hey! Is she okay there?”

An accented voice cut through the commotion around you. You tried to get a look at what was going on, but your efforts were for naught. You were starting to wonder if you should just leave and take whatever verbal lashing you were going to get from your boss.

Until the sea of photographers suddenly parted and a towering figure was looking down at you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You were so taken by him that you couldn’t form a single sentence. He was so handsome, and so goddamn tall. Not just tall by your standards; everyone normally towered over you, but he towered over everyone. And he was looking - talking - directly at you. The photographers around you weren’t sure if they should be taking pictures or not, so they just kept looking between the two of you in shock.

You remembered he had asked you a question and finally managed to snap out of your trance. “Oh, you, I’m okay. Just being shoved around a bit. That’s par for the course with this profession.”

He extended a hand to you. You took it and gasped when he pulled you forward towards the barrier again. To those around you he said, “She stands here and she stays here. I get that you all have a job to do, but there’s no reason you need to trample one of your own for a good stop. Especially when she’s the smallest one among you all. No offense.”

You shook your head, once again unable to speak.

He smiled and winked at you before stepping back. “Here, get a shot of my good side.”

It took you a moment to remember what you were even supposed to be doing, and quickly fumbled with your camera to start taking pictures again.

Your fellow photographers were quick to move on from the encounter when a new celebrity arrived to the red carpet, but your gaze lingered on him as he started to walk away. You were almost embarrassed to say you had no idea who he was. He was obviously someone famous, but you didn’t recognize him. Either way, he was your savior tonight and you didn’t get the chance to thank him for helping you.

The rest of the night passed quickly after that. No one else shoved or trampled you, so you managed to get a lot of good photos. Once the last celebrity had arrived and entered the building, the reporters and photographers began to disperse. Some went into the building to photograph the events of the night, but you weren’t one of those so you were able to get ready to leave. You started texting your boss to let her know you’d scan the pictures onto your laptop when you got home and send them along right away when you heard someone behind you say, “Hey, was everything alright after?”

You turned to see the tall guy from earlier coming up to you.

“Oh...hi,” you said. “Yes, everything was fine. Thank you for your help there, by the way. I thought for sure I was going to be leaving another event with more pictures of the back of people’s heads than the actual event.”

“Does that happen often?”

“I mean...look at me.” You gestured to your small stature.

He chuckled. “Okay, point taken.”

“My name is (Y/N), by the way.”

“Jacob.”

You shook his hand. “Shouldn’t you be inside, by the way? The event is just starting.”

“I stepped out for some air. I come to these things for the charity aspect, but they’re not really my thing. I plan to eat and slip out immediately afterwards.”

Before I could respond, my Uber pulled up.

“I won’t keep you from getting home,” Jacob said. “I saw you out here and just wanted to check in.”

“I appreciate it, and I appreciate you helping me out back there.”

“Hey, I had to use my height advantage for good eventually. In this case, it helped me to spot a cute photographer before she was turned into a pancake.”

You felt your face heating up at his compliment. Suddenly you were tongue tied again and didn’t have enough time to try and figure out a response because your Uber driver was impatiently waiting for you.

You suddenly remembered the business cards you kept with you in case you ever got to talking with event organizers or celebrities looking for photographers for their photoshoots (or agencies with better pay and benefits, but you’d never say that out lout). You dug one out of your purse and passed it to Jacob. “In case you ever need a cute photographer for a shoot. Or...I don’t know, if you just want to talk.”

He looked down at your business card before smiling at you. “Is this your personal number or a business one?”

“Personal. It’s easier to reach me on my cell than to try and call my workplace.”

“I’ll remember that, then.”

You nodded and finally managed to break yourself from his trance. Your Uber driver was glaring at you through the rearview mirror as you climbed into his car, but you could’ve cared less. You glanced out the window as the car began to pull away. Jacob was still looking down at your business card, a light smile on his lips. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself in return. You hoped it wouldn’t be too long before you heard from Jacob again.

~~~~~~

The next day you were at your desk, going over some of the pictures from the night before to submit to your boss. You had managed to scan the photos onto your laptop when you got home the night before, but it was so late that your boss told you to wait until this morning to submit them. Most publications had their pictures from the Gala posted immediately after they were taken, so your boss said she wasn’t in any rush to have them.

“It gives you more time to pick out the good ones to be submitted,” she had told you.

Your phone vibrated, pulling your attention away from work for just a split second. You looked down to see an unknown number was trying to text me.

“looking for a cute photographer. know anyone who fits the bill? :) - j”

I smiled to myself.

“i may have some ideas. depends on what you’re looking for.”

The response came almost immediately.

“looking for someone to join me for coffee. say in about 15 minutes?”

The urge to shut down your computer and immediately run to meet Jacob was strong. But you knew you had work to do first, even though you would much rather be sitting across from him at some coffee shop than in your cubicle.

“finishing an assignment for work and then i’ll be free for my break. just text me a place and i’ll meet you there :)”

Within 20 minutes, you were approaching the place Jacob had told you to meet him. You didn’t have to look for him as he was stood waiting for you, his tall stature basically sticking out like a sore thumb. You didn’t think you had ever met anyone as tall as him before. It was almost intimidating, if he wasn’t so hot.

He looked up as you approached and smiled. “Hey!”

You were shocked when he pulled you in for a hug, but graciously took the display of affection.

“How was the rest of your night?” you asked as you both stepped into the shop and got into line.

“It was alright. Did as I said and slipped out after eating, but not before hearing a couple of the speeches they do talking about the event’s history and why they choose the yearly trends and stuff.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m lucky I didn’t die of boredom.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“If you really think that, I’ll take you to the next one I get invited to and you can sit through all the speeches. Then you can tell me if it’s not that bad.”

You tried not to dwell on the fact that he was already talking about taking you to an event with him. You knew that it was way too quickly to be thinking about stuff like that - this was literally the second time you had met him and the first time you were actually spending any amount of time together - but there was something about the fact that he was already planning ahead like that that gave you some hope for where this was going.

After ordering your coffees and stepping aside to wait for them, Jacob asked, “How was your night? Surely it was much better than mine.”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far. I got home, put on my pajamas, and watched some trashy Netflix reality until I fell asleep.”

“At least trashy reality has some excitement.”

“A lot more than listening to speeches about the history of the MET Gala.”

“I could’ve looked up a Wikipedia article and read the whole thing from start to finish and it would’ve been more exciting than listening to that.”

You giggled. The barista gave you your coffees and you moved to a table by the window to sit down.

“How long do I have you for?” Jacob asked.

“Our breaks can last anywhere between 30 minutes to an hour. Usually if it’s 30 minutes, you get another 30 minute break later on. If it’s the full hour, I only get this one break today.”

“Well, I’ll try not to be stingy with your time, but I think I’m going to have some difficulty in letting you leave.”

“I gotta say, you are quite the flirt.”

“Only when I really like someone.”

We spent most of the time getting to know one another. You admitted that you hadn’t heard of Jacob before, so he told you about some of the movies and shows he had done. You had only heard of Euphoria, but had never watched it nor did you have any desire to. Jacob told you he wouldn’t hold it against you that you hadn’t seen any of his work. You told him about going to college for photography fresh out of high school because you knew that was the one thing you wanted to do more than anything. You were lucky enough that the company you did your work term with wanted to take you in full time after you graduated, and you were still there years later.

“You mentioned that stuff like what happened to you last night is a normal occurrence?” he asked.

You sighed. “Yeah. I mean, in general it is par for the course that photographers at such events can be a little ruthless. We all want the good shots that can and will be used, that’s how we make our money. But it’s especially hard for me because I am a short woman. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of female photographers who get taken just as seriously as the male ones, but there are also plenty of male photographers who aren’t afraid to shove a woman out of their way to get their shot instead of another man. Throw in the fact that I’m usually the shortest one in attendance and I become an easy target. Get me out of the way, get in my space, and then that’s it for me.”

“That’s awful,” Jacob said. “You’d think being shorter than they are would make it easier for them to just shoot around you instead of moving you out of the way.”

“You would think, but that’s not the case.” You shrugged. “It’s nothing new for me. I was always the shortest person in the room, and thus was treated one way or another because of it. It’s just now I’m worried that if I can’t do my job properly I’ll be fired.”

“They can’t fire you for being short.”

“They can if I’m not getting any pictures when I’m sent to red carpet events. Most of the time I only get the first one or two people to arrive and that’s it. My boss is mostly understanding about it, but I know realistically she can’t keep me if I’m not able to do my job. Or at least she won’t send me out to events anymore, which would be just as bad as getting fired honestly. I don’t want to just sit behind a desk all day using photoshop to fix up pictures before they’re published.”

The mention of your job had you glancing down at your watch and realizing how much time had passed. “Shit! I gotta be back to work in 10 minutes.”

“Already?” Jacob had a crestfallen look on his face.

“I know. I would much rather stay with you. I’m enjoying our conversation.”

Jacob stood as you did. “Let me walk you back to work at least. We can prolong the goodbyes that way.”

You accepted and you both headed towards your job. The walk was silent at first. You were trying to find something to ask him so that the time wasn’t wasted in silence, but nothing was coming to your head right now.

Luckily, Jacob broke the silence by asking, “When do you usually get off work?”

“Around 5,” you responded.

“Maybe we could pick this up when you’re off then. If you feel up for it, that is. I get it if you’d rather do nothing after working all day.”

“Well...normally I do prefer to spend my evenings by myself after work. But, if this isn’t too forward to ask, maybe you could come over and we could keep getting to know each other.”

His face lit up. “I’d like that a lot.”

He took you by surprise once more as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. If you weren’t already so enamored by this man, you probably would’ve been thinking about how funny the two of you looked together - the under 5′ photographer and the over 6′ actor. But all I could think about was how Jacob wanted to see me again so soon, and how much I did want to see him too. It was hard to break away and go back to work, but I knew I’d get in trouble if I showed up late from my break.

The only thing that kept me going was the smile on Jacob’s face as I turned back around to look at him, and the thought that it wouldn’t be too much longer until I got to see him again.

[p0orbaby]

Hey, can you maybe write something about reader surprising Leah? Reader been away for work for a while & Leah’s really missed her. Reader comes back early to surprise leah at a family meal/after a game or something?

-

You can hear Leah before you see her. Her voice carries through her mum’s kitchen like a melody she’s been rehearsing all week, familiar and warm, laced with the faintest edge of exasperation.

“It’s not that bad, Mum,” she says, and you picture her perched on the counter, half-smiling, half-defensive, probably swinging her legs like a kid. “I’ll eat it, just—maybe not right now”

Her mum’s voice floats back, mock-indignant: “You said you wanted stew!”

“I didn’t mean one that could double as glue!”

It’s such a quintessential Leah moment that you almost forget why you’re here. Almost.

You linger in the hallway, setting your bag down quietly so they don’t hear you. The house smells like something vaguely burnt but not unpleasant, and it feels like home in a way that’s entirely unfair for a place you’ve barely spent time in.

“She’s still not back, huh?” Leah’s brother says from the dining table. You peek through the doorframe and see him fiddling with his phone, half paying attention.

Leah shrugs, but her face gives her away. “Nah. Still working”

There’s something in her tone that makes your chest tighten—soft, wistful, like she’s trying to sound indifferent and failing miserably. She looks tired in the way you only get when you’re waiting for something—or someone—and you don’t know when it’ll happen.

Well, she’s about to find out.

You step into the room, the floor creaking just enough to give you away. Leah glances up, her eyes landing on you with that split-second hesitation of disbelief before they widen.

“What the—” She doesn’t even finish the sentence.

Her family looks between you and Leah like they’ve stumbled into the climax of a romcom. Her mum’s face breaks into a grin. “Oh, you’re in trouble now,” she says, more amused than concerned.

You drop your keys on the table and hold your arms out. “Surprise?”

Leah doesn’t move at first. She just stares at you, blinking like you might vanish if she blinks too hard. Then she’s off the counter and across the room in a flash, her arms wrapping around you so tightly you think she might actually crack a rib.

“You’re home,” she mumbles into your shoulder, and it’s not a question. It’s a statement, a fact, like she needs to say it out loud to believe it.

You grin against her hair, letting her squeeze you like a stress ball. “Miss me?”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. “Shut up.”

“You’re gonna cry, aren’t you?” you tease, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

“I am not gonna cry,” she says, even though she very much looks like she might.

Her brother snorts. “She was sulking for days, by the way. Wouldn’t shut up about—”

“Shut it, Jacob,” Leah snaps, though her face is still buried in your neck, so the effect is slightly ruined.

Her mum pats her on the back as she passes by with a fresh glass of wine. “I think you owe me for sitting through her mood swings”

“I’ll send flowers,” you quip, and Leah pinches your side in retaliation.

The rest of the night is a blur of laughter, teasing, and Leah not letting go of your hand even once. When the meal is over and everyone’s settled into the sofa for a film, she tugs you aside, her voice soft.

“I really missed you”

“I know.” You kiss her, your grin melting into something softer. “I missed you too”