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#i still have a lot of stuff to do but i think i can get rid of that anxious overwhelmed depressed feeling one day at a time. at the very
luveline · 17 hours
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Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3
ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k
“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 
“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 
“I understand, but–”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 
You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?
“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 
The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 
“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 
You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 
“Did you call them?” 
Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 
Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 
“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 
You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 
Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 
“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 
You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 
“We really don’t have time to waste.” 
“I know, but my blood sugar–”
She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”
“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”
“Clearly not!” 
“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 
The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 
You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 
If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 
Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 
“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 
He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 
He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 
“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.
“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 
He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 
In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 
You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 
“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 
“No,” you say apologetically. 
“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 
Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”
“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”
“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.
“How did you get so low?” he asks.
“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 
“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 
“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 
“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 
“Don’t know,” you mumble. 
Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 
He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 
You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 
By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 
You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 
“I understand.” 
You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.
He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 
“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 
He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 
“What do I get in return?” 
He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 
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catboybiologist · 2 days
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I wanted to do something a bit different this tgirl tummy Tuesday. So here's some sexy and informative stuff!
A lot of people tell me something like "how the fuck do you boymode?". My response is usually some combination of A, the parts of my face I hide are very masculine, and B, people are primed to see me as masc in day to day life so just don't think about it much.
And those are true, to an extent. But boymode vs girlmode is a bit more than clothes, and I wanted to do a video that can show that a bit. And hey, why not have a little fun and show off a little tummy with it?
There's a lot more I could be doing for the girlmode here. This is no makeup, still wearing a very compressive sports bra, and I didn't even adjust how I'm wearing my pants or the tightness. It's also not the most femme of outfits, just a woman's cut tank top. I could also do an actually femme looking ponytail that hides the hairline better- all ponytails in this post look pretty masculine, though. But I think this still shows the contrast pretty well.
The hairline does a lot of work here, but it's less than you think. Mostly, that's just a "primer" to get you to read the rest of me as more masc or femme overall.
If you're curious, here's some other pictures of each factor individually:
Boymode:
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Girlmode:
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😳🥺😳🥺😳🥺 mode:
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Hopefully this was fun, and gave a little insight into my boymoding! Hopefully I won't have to deal with this in a couple months.
@lilithtransrights @xenasaur @godless-of-the-hunt , how was my analysis here?
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redeyegrl · 2 days
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☆ it’s a prank ; jude bellingham
vlogger gf and bf!jude
authors note: this is a reblog from my old acc. rip to her :( !! enjoy <3!!
you and jude were visting your home city in states and today you were both heading out to shop for your next vacation spot. both agreeing to leave at this very moment to pick up some items from the mall, you quickly made your way to the car first with your vlogging camera, to then quickly holding up the camera getting ready to talk to your subbies. you start the video off telling your subscribers about todays video idea you had in mind.
"alright guys, jude is still inside so that gives me a few minutes to tell you guys todays prank" you excitedly state.
"today's prank is definitely going to be an easy prank, and a prank i know jude is for sure going to enjoy" you say playfully rolling your eyes. "but, today i am going to do the "i can't stop kissing my boyfriend prank" you say rubbing your hands together like an evil villain.
"jude thinks that were just going to be vlogging today at the mall, but really he's about to be kissed up a storm" you finish explaining, nervously laughing in the end. 
as you continue to talk to the camera, you catch your world famous footballer boyfriend already walking out the house getting ready to get inside the car. "oh snap he's coming, he's coming" you whisper, quickly adjusting yourself to seem as if everything was going on normally.
jude opens up the door to the rented black lamborghini urus and gets himself inside the car.
"saw you talking to the camera. already starting the video without me?" he says pulling down the seatbelt. "yeah yeah, just chatting about what were going to be doing today" you smirk.
you begin to hover yourself over jude and give him a nice, gentle, but quick kiss. after the kiss you see him in a smiley mess.
"ready to go?" you ask as you're ready to give him another kiss. "yeah baby i'm ready" he shyly replies. you respond by giving him another quick loving peck. as you try to move back to the passenger seat, he gently grabs you back over to him. 
"can i have another kiss?" he cutely asks. "damn he's making this prank easy enough for me"  you thought. "mmhmm" you replied giving him another.
as jude was driving you both to the mall, you wanted to start up a conversation to rev up the prank. you positioned the camera to where you and jude were on film. "so what are you going to be buying or looking for at the mall?" you asks jude who was eye focused on the road.
"uhm probably look to buy more shoes or maybe buy some new clothes. i also need to head to goyard and get a backpa-" he was cutoff at you picking up his hand and leaving thousands of pecks.
 "...and buy my baby whatever she wants" he looks over to you and smiles like a complete idiot. "wow j" you laugh. "i'm serious tho" he finishes.
after a few minutes, he pulls over to the mall parking lot. "alright. stay here" he tells you as he gets out the car to open up the passenger door. 
as he opens the door, he holds and gently pulls your hand out to help you out the car. "you're so sweet" you tell him. he closes the door behind you and grabs your left hand and you both start to walkout the parking lot. 
as you both make your way up to the entrance, you start talking to the camera again. "alright guys we're here at the mall" you tell the camera "i'm so ready to get new stuff for the trip we're both going on in a few days. the summer is almost over and we gotta finish it off with another nice vaycay" you tell the camera, resting your head onto jude's bicep.
"yeah, we both need a few things, and today we aren't busy with anything so we decided to shop a bit" jude tells the camera. "mmhmm" you hummed.
 to continue on with the prank, you stop walking and tell jude to face you. "gimmie kiss" you request. you stand on your toes and he leans over to give you a quick kiss. "another one" you request again. he chuckles and goes in to gives you another kiss.
"another one" you ask, giggling over his lips. "damn babe" he whispers giving you one after another after another after another. "okay okay okay" you shyly pushing him away, holding his hand walking into the mall entrance.
"okay so first stop, we need to go to target first to buy a few sun care products like sunscreen and body lotion" you tell the camera. "this is also jude's first time at target" you say excitedly.
"where do you need to go to babe?" you asks jude. "after target, we're gonna go over to goyard and buy me a few pieces and then maybe over to nike or something" he replies.
while he was talking to the camera, you start to repeatedly kiss his bicep that your head was once positioned on. he looks down over at you smiling and pulls you closer him as he still talks to the camera.
"here's target" jude tells you. you both walk your way inside and head to the body care isle. "i'm gonna go look for a few things real quick at the men's section, i'll be back" he tells you.
"you're gonna leave me here alone?" you jokingly whine, flipping the camera over to him. "don't be dramatic i'll be back" he laughs. "ok, well meet me back over here" you tell him as you wrap your hands around his body, looking up at him. "you're acting so cute today, i don't know what's up with you" he giggles onto your lips. he gives you a kiss, but you hold on to him tighter, asking him for more. "i want more please" you tells him.
he gives you a few more. "we'll be here forever love" he laughs. "i don't caree" you whine. he wraps his arms around your lower waist and connects his forehead to yours. "i'll be back" he tells you before grabbing your ass with both of his hands, followed by a slap. "jude" you whine, smiling. he laughs and heads over to the men's section.
you start talking back to the camera. "alright guys. so i need to up the prank up a little more. i don't think he's getting on to it, even though he's not supposed to, i need to be a little more needy" you vent to the camera. "maybe i'm just not going to ask him to kiss me. i'm gonna just do it without asking him" you says while looking around making sure he doesn't hear you.
after picking up a few items and telling your subscribers what you had in your hand carrying cart, jude comes up from behind. you turn around and notice. "whatcha get?" you ask facing the camera towards him. "i got some shorts and deodorant" he says looking at the stuff in his hands.
without notice, you gently pull his head down and plants kisses onto his lips. "i missed you" you tell him. he laughs in response. "i was just over there" he says pointing to his past location
"soo? you still left me alone" you tell him leaving more kisses onto his cheek. "babe behave yourself" he whispers towards you.
"give me your stuff babe" he says as you hand him your cart. "look at him holding things for me" you say to the camera, pulling his arm down and kissing him on his cheek a couple of times. "why do you keep pulling me down and kissing me and stuff?" jude laughs.
"i can't kiss my bf?" you question. "you can of course, but damn somethings up. i must've did something good today" jude laughs. "and what would that be?" you cutely questioned. "idk, but you keep giving me kisses so it must to be something" he laughs.
you both made your way up to the self register and jude scans the items. you look over at the camera, getting ready to continue the prank. as he scans the rest of the items, you gently pull his arm down and he looks over to you. "come here" you tells him as you wrap your arms around his neck and stand on you toes to kiss him. "i love you" you tell him.
"what is going on with you babe?" he tells you as he takes out his wallet to finish up paying. "nothing" you blankly reply. "okay?" he says as he puts his card into the card reader, dangerously confused.
you stand behind him as he puts in his four digit code and wrap your arms around his large body and plants small back kisses onto his back. you can feel him laughing due to his body vibrations.
he turns over as he gets the receipt and and puts his wallet back into his pocket. "why are you acting like this" he cups your jaw, giving you multiple kisses onto your lips, sending you into a giggling frenzy.
"no-thing i- ju-st l-ov-e yo-u" you try to speak through each kiss. "how many more do you need because it seems to be that you need more every time" he replies pulling you into a hug.
"it's nothing. lets go and get what you need" you finally tell him as you he the bag full of your items and both making your way back into the mall.
"alright guys, now we are going to go to- where are we going?" you ask jude. "uhm i need some shoes so lets get that over with" he tells you.
you looks over at him and pucker up your lips insinuating you want another kiss, while holding the camera. "again?" he whispers.
"yes" you reply pouting. you pucker your lips back again and he gives you a kiss. "another one" you request. "come on, we can't keep doing this" he laughs.
"you don't like kissing me?" you pout trying to get to him "no baby, it's never like that, but you're being needy right now... and were in public" jude tells you as you both walk your way into nike.
"no, you just don't like kissing me" you tell him pouting. "now you know that's not true" he finishes as you were both greeted by a hello from a nike clerk.
"hello, would you guys like any help today" the clerk asks. "uhm could you show us the new releases?" jude asks while holding your hand. "yes i can, follow me" the clerk responds.
you pick up jude's hand that was locked to yours and placed millions of kisses onto it. he looks back over to you confused. "are you okay?" he whispers laughing. "yes?" you reply, sneaking in a few laughs into the camera.
"okay, here are the new releases. you can choose from any of these. is there one in particular that you like?" the clerk asked jude. "yeah um... that one right there" jude points. "size?" the clerk asks. "size 12 should be good" he responds. "i'll go ahead and get them for you".
as the clerk went to the back, jude looked over at you. "what" you started laughing. "you're just acting weird i don't know" he confusedly responds.
"no im not" you reply to him. you both stare at each other for a few seconds until the clerk comes back. "here you go. try them out and see if they're okay" the clerk responded. "yeah" jude replies.
you had the idea to do the funniest thing ever. "can i have a kiss" you ask jude infront of the clerk. he laughs to cover up the embarrassment and so does the clerk. jude turns around to where his back was faced to the clerk. "what are you doing?" he says through his teeth, obviously embarrassed.
"what, can i just have a kiss?" you reply laughing. he heads down over to you and gives you a quick kiss. jude then tries on the shoes and tells the clerk they fit well.
after the clerk takes the shoe jude tried on and the other shoes he picked, they all make their way to the register. you look over to your camera sending off smirks. "total is $654.89" the clerk says.
after jude pays for the shoes, the clerk then ask for a picture with jude because he was a fan. right after they taken the pic, both you and jude waved bye to the clerk.
as they were walking out the store, you look over at jude and sneaks in a laugh into the camera. "ok so where to next?" you asks him while holding the camera. "you did that to me infront of the clerk who was a fan?? are you insane" jude spills as you too were in shock of what just happened.
you both are now walking throughout the mall. "do you want me to kiss you before i do anything?" he says sarcastically. "no, but i do want you to tell them where you want to go next" you playfully respond.
"i need to go get the backpa-" jude was cutoff by you asking for a kiss. "babe what is wrong with you?" jude says with a concerning face. he complies anyway by giving you another kiss.
as you both make there way into goyard, you look over at the bags they had. as he looks through their selection, you slide your way into jude's embrace and rests your chin on his chest. you look up at him and gently pull his neck down for a kiss. jude holds you tightly and gives you a nice, passionate kiss followed by many more pecks.
"baby, do we need to go home?" he asks sincerely. "we can come back tomorrow" he tells you. "no no we have to get everything now" you pout. "then why do you keep kissing me baby?" he whines. "becauseee" you drag as you pull him down for more kisses.
"alright we're going home" he says as he drags you out the store. "no wait jude jude stop" you say while laughing. "you can't keep kissing me out here, lets just go home" he tells you.
"no no i was just pranking you its a prank" you laugh. "what you mean?" jude questions. "i kept kissing you. that was the prank" you laugh. "it doesn't matter we're leaving" he says quickly guiding you both out mall.
"whyy?" you whine. "i don't want to shop anymore, and you keep on kissing me so now were going home" he looks over to you. "i was just joking, we can shop normally now" you laugh following him back to the car.
"well i'm not in the mood for shopping right now anyway, and now we have to get home now so i can deal with you" he calmly tells, pulling you close to his side.
"wow guys" you tell the camera, "i tell him i'm pranking and now he wants to go home" you laugh. "you know you want to go home, too" he tells you. "i mean yeah if that means i'm getting fcked but we still need to shop" you responds laughing.
"you were playing around with me and now i'm in the mood for something else. you did this to yourself" he scoffs. you knew that playing pranks like these would get you into these types of trouble. but it was safe to say your prank was a success.
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paper-mario-wiki · 11 hours
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transfems can be women but you are not, you're an agp
(i actually blocked the original person who sent this and then resent it to myself on anon to keep the presentation fitting since i would like to share my perspective on this anyhow. here's what i would have said to this straw-man argument-haver if they weren't already blocked!)
TL;DR: you're wrong with both of the things you asserted in your statement. 1) i am not an AGP which is because 2) AGP's are exactly as much of a woman as i am.
what meaningful categorization could you put on someone to fit the description of "autogynophile" that precludes them from womanhood without inherently being contradictorily transphobic? "it turns them on to think about being vaginally penetrated" yeah i bet a lot of cishet woman fantasize about that too. "they only changed their identity because they like being a lady so much it helps them get off" okay? and? this is not a categorization which is inherently predatory, so who cares? gender is, irrevocably, an invention. it's a farce. it's nothing, we made it up, that's the whole point of agreeing that people can change it if they say they want to.
drawing a social line by the physical distinctions of "do they have penis or the other one" is as arbitrary as separating people by right handedness and left handedness or the eye color they were born with. the social expectations, behaviors, and woes are a consequence of the fact that everyone has been taught "this is just how it is, and it makes you different in every way, and this is how it's always been, and this is how it'll always be", same as the way people keep using fiat currencies (the US dollar for example), despite them being backed up by no singular tangible thing in any way that matters, aside from the word of the person who controls it.
and sometimes going along with that stuff is fine! i mean not the money, but the other one. the gender one. i like to be called a woman, while also knowing that "woman" is an invention. "pretty" is also an invention, and i love to be called that. "sonic the hedgehog" is an invention that people talk about using the same verbiage they use when describing real, tangible, breathing creatures, despite the fact that sonic the hedgehog exists conceptually and not physically (not including physical representations, which are not the same thing).
i think agp's are also women. if i could read someone's mind and they said "hi im a woman" but i knew they were thinking "im actually a man" i would still say "hello woman" because they might as well have given me their name for all the difference it makes in how we interact moving forward. if someone has no intention or probability to harm themselves or anyone else, i couldn't care less.
all that being said, you're wrong with both of the things you asserted in your statement. 1) i am not an AGP because 2) AGP are exactly as much of a woman as i am. it is a meaningless category coined by bigots and only given credibility by people with bigoted views.
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dyaz-stories · 2 days
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don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader
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synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.
“Was I off script?”
You look up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
word count: 5.4k
genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life
cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy
a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)
soundtrack
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Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.
Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.
Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.
But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.
With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.
Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.
Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.
“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”
That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.
There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.
“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”
And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.
“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.
The world freezes.
A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.
You’d never asked.
But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”
“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”
There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.
“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”
“Come on, don’t act like—”
“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”
“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.
“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.
Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.
When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.
“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.
“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”
“When have I ever bothered anyone—”
She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.
“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”
He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.
It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.
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You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.
“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.
“Sure,” Shoko says.
“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.
“No,” Gojo whines.
“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.
“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.
Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.
But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.
So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.
That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.
Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.
Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.
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He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.
“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.
Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.
He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.
He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—
“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.
“Huh?” you say.
He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.
His gaze drops to your parted lips.
Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.
“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”
“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.
“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”
That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.
“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”
“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”
“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”
Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.
This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.
“Are we getting in or what?”
“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”
Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.
The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.
The time is good.
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“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”
It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.
“You okay?” you ask.
Ah, so she does speak.
“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”
“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”
His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.
“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.
You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.
“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”
“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.
You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.
“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”
“And I was off script?”
You glance back up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.
“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”
“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”
He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.
Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.
“It’s not too cold?” you ask.
“All good,” he repeats.
Shit. He’s invested again.
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“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”
“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”
“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.
“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.
“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”
Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.
Gojo doesn’t.
“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.
“You never know what—”
“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”
Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.
The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.
She’d been right but like, that was still rude.
The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.
Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.
There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.
“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”
“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”
“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"
“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.
“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.
“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”
Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.
“I’ll go get her.”
“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”
As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”
“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.
He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.
A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.
Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”
“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.
Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.
“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”
Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.
“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”
Gojo pauses.
“How do you know that?”
“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”
He’s sure he has, but—
“You were listening to that?”
You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.
“Of course I was. You were talking.”
“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”
You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.
“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”
Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.
“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”
When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.
“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.
“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.
For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.
“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.
Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.
“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”
“You don’t have to—”
A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.
“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”
Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.
“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”
When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.
“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”
You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.
“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.
You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.
“You haven’t been on script once today.”
“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”
“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.
Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.
You don’t think it’s going to last.
Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.
“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.
Ha. He nailed it.
“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.
“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?
“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”
Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.
“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.
You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.
It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.
“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.
Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.
“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”
But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.
He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.
With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.
One more thing to remember.
“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.
You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.
“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.
“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”
Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.
A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.
The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.
The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.
When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.
Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.
Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.
When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.
You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.
Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.
“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”
“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.
“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”
“There you guys are!”
You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.
“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.
“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.
“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.
He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.
“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”
She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.
“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.
Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.
Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.
“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”
Of course, he doesn’t.
Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.
That, or these will become famous last words.
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sequel
thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!
tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx
160 notes · View notes
ambrosiagoldfish · 13 hours
Note
Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️
like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea
Benifit of the doubt Pt.4
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
Request Box: Open
Word Count: 4617~
A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)
Reblogs are always appreciated!
Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.
Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)
Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.
To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.
A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.
Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.
How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.
You never returned to any of the follow up meetings
But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.
“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.
“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”
Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”
You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.
“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”
Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”
You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”
-
That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.
You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.
Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.
“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”
Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.
Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”
“What!” Both your voices raise in shock
“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”
“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly
“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”
“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”
“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”
“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”
With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.
The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.
On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.
The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.
“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”
“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth
“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.
“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.
“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.
“When should she be arriving, Lute?”
“Within the hour.”
-
Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.
But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.
“She can’t see us?”
“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”
The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.
“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”
You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.
You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.
Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.
She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.
The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.
“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”
Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”
“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.
Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.
So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.
“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.
You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”
Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”
“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”
Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”
“But-“
“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”
“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”
Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought
“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg
Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”
Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.
Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.
-
A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!
“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding
“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”
You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”
She shakes her head
“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”
Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”
“Thank you.”
-
You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.
A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.
“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.
“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.
“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”
Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”
You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”
Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”
“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”
He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.
Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.
-
Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.
“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“
You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”
He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-
You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”
He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”
With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’
You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.
The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.
You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.
“Hi! I’m-“
The door is slammed shut, Before opening again
“Be not afraid-“
It shuts again…
Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.
“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.
“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”
You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.
“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…
“Wait, you are-“
“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”
Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.
“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”
“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”
Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”
Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”
She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”
You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.
“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.
“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first
“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.
“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”
“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.
“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”
The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch
“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.
He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.
The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.
“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”
The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.
“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”
The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”
“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”
Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.
“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”
“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”
“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”
“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs
She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.
You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.
You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.
*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*
Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.
Dixkmaster69
Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left
You there??
Fucking answer
You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.
Sweetcheeks
Hey love
Everything’s fine, I’m ok.
Aside from not having you with me :’(
Dixkmaster69
Fucking finally
You know you don’t have to do this
If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow
Sweetcheeks
Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.
I promise I’m going to be fine
I’ll be back before you know it.
Dixkmaster69
I know
This shit just worries me
Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)
You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.
Sweetcheeks
I already miss yours too <3
Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?
Dixkmaster69
Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3
You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.
“Sup”
You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”
You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”
You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”
“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”
You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…
“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”
More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”
Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”
Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.
140 notes · View notes
harmonicakai · 3 days
Text
This Is Me Trying
Part 3 of the "Anyone Else But You" series
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Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader
Summary: Being friends with Huening Kai would be much simpler if he didn’t give you butterflies all the time.
Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst, stylist!reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: swearing, reader is insecure, mentions of death
A/N: I made a Spotify playlist for this fic if anybody wants to give it a listen hehe <3
“Remember how I used to be so Stuck in one place, so cold? Feeling like my heart just froze Nowhere to go with no one, nobody” —Magic, TXT
When the weekend comes around, you’re worried that you’ve hallucinated the entire situation, but when Kai knocks on your front door, he looks good. Really good.
“I–I like your outfit,” you say, taking note of the details. “It’s different from how you usually dress.”
“Yeonjun helped me pick stuff out. He said you’d like this.” Kai spins, allowing you to take in the full ensemble. He’s ditched his usual skater boy attire for a button down, slacks, and a chocolate brown wool coat that matches the color of his eyes.
“You didn’t have to dress up for me,” you say, shaking your head.
“Of course I did. You’re the coolest looking person I know.” Has he always thought that? “I don’t know how you do it every day, though. We probably spent hours picking out just this one look.”
“Every Sunday, I plan my outfits for the week. Sometimes it takes the whole day if I’m not feeling too creative.”
“That sounds stressful.”
“It is.”
“Why do you do it, then? I mean, you always look good, but does it make you feel good?”
You blink back at him. Nobody has ever asked you anything like this. You have no idea how to respond.
Kai can tell that he’s struck a nerve. “Sorry. I just meant that if it stresses you out, you shouldn’t feel pressured to do it all the time. There’s a lot to like about you besides how you dress.”
“Right. Should we get going?” you ask, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan. Suddenly you feel overdressed.
“Let’s do it,” he smiles.
All you can think about on the walk over to the concert hall is whether or not this is a date. It feels like a date. He’s dressed like it’s one.
He said he wanted to be friends, you remind yourself. Still, when he accidentally drifts close to you and your shoulders brush, you can feel your face heat up.
You sit together on the steps of the concert hall, people watching and pointing out your favorite and least favorite outfits.
“I like her hat,” Kai says, pointing to a toddler walking hand in hand with her mom. She’s wearing a fluffy beanie with bear ears.
“Maybe I can convince the team to let you wear one on stage,” you think out loud. “It would be really cute for a concert.”
“That would be so awesome, Y/N! But I don’t want you to think about work right now. Let’s just have fun today.”
“I’m always thinking about work,” you admit. “I’ve thought about clothes every second of my life for what seems like forever now.”
“You aren’t that old,” he points out.
“I’m one year older than you,” you remind him. He skipped the birthday party that Yeonjun threw for you last winter.
“Okay, I take it back,” he surrenders. “You’re old and should look into retirement soon.”
You know he’s just joking, but you can’t help but think that he’s right. Maybe you shouldn’t focus so much on what everybody is wearing all the time, yourself included. 
“Y/N,” Kai says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You jerk your head up.
“I used to play in an orchestra,” you blurt out, instantly regretting answering a question that was never asked. Still, you have Kai’s full attention, and the point of this is for the two of you to get to know each other. “I, uh, I played the viola, but I wasn’t very good at it.”
“That’s so cool! I play the piano!” You already know that. Everybody does, but you appreciate how he seems to have forgotten that he’s world famous. “We should do a duet sometime! MOA would love it.”
“Uh, I’m not sure MOA would love seeing you with a girl,” you deflect. You’ve seen what dating scandals can do to someone’s career.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he agrees. You watch the cogs inside his head spin before a lightbulb goes off. “Maybe we can set Taehyun up with a fake one on Academy Reincarnation and you can play in the background. ”
“That… actually sounds pretty funny.”
“Ooh, Y/N, thinks I’m funny,” he muses, before turning away to face the busy square. “Seoul! Y/N thinks I’m funny!”
“Shh!” you laugh, cupping your hand over his mouth. You are not mentally prepared to deal with any crazed fangirls tonight. “We have to go inside, now.”
Before you can overthink it, Kai grabs your hand and the two of you rush inside, greeted by marble floors and draped velvets. It’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen.
“Wow,” you sigh, taking the entire lobby in. “You know, I haven’t been here since I was a little girl. My mom would bring me here all the time. She played the piano like you. I always wanted to take after her, but I have trouble forming chords.”
“I can give you lessons, if you want,” he offers. “I have a keyboard in my room back at home.”
“I’d like that,” you smile back. You try not to read too much into being invited into his bedroom.
“Why don’t you and your mom go to concerts anymore?” Kai asks, hoping that it isn’t too personal a question. His anxiety grows exponentially as you take your time responding.
“She passed away when I was nine,” you say calmly. It doesn’t hurt you to tell people anymore. “I wanted to come because today is actually her birthday. My dad is really sensitive about it, though, so it was just going to be me. But I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Oh… Y/N, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t know what I’d do without my mom.” He stares at his shoes, guilt written all over his face. “I could’ve made things more special for you.”
“Don’t worry, Kai. It already is special,” you say, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “My mom would probably be happy to see me coming here with someone who loves the piano just as much as she did.” 
His face relaxes again, and he does very little to stop himself from grinning ear to ear.
After you take your seats in the back of the balcony and the lights begin to dim, a strange sense of calm overtakes you. 
Despite being in a crowd of strangers, sitting next to Kai in the dark and listening to the hum of strings as they warm up makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the world.
Midway through the concert, you realize he’s still holding your hand. Maybe he’s like this with all of his friends, considering you’ve seen him and Soobin skipping down the halls hand in hand on multiple occasions. Still, you hope he never lets go.
—————-
Even though it’s technically your job, it’s a rare occasion where you actually get to dress the boys. Today, all hands are on deck for the filming of their upcoming album’s concept trailer.
“I can’t believe they’re making you wear a white sweater,” you sigh, holding up Kai’s outfit for the Dreamer sequence. “Everybody else gets such cute colors.”
“At least I get to stand out,” he grins, always looking on the bright side. He’s already got on his eyepatch, but it’s a little crooked. You walk over to fix it.
“Hold still,” you say, adjusting it into place and smoothing his hair down. “There we go.”
“Was I better this time?” he asks. You look up at him in confusion.
“What?” His face is so close to yours that you can feel his breath.
“I didn’t move this time. That night at the club,” he explains, “Well, you were telling me the story of when we first met. How I flinched and walked away and it hurt your feelings.”
“Oh. Yeah, you were much better this time.”
“I’m glad. I’ll try to be good for you, Y/N. I’m really sorry about before. I feel like I really wasted our time being so… weird. We could’ve been friends much earlier.”
“It’s okay, Kai, really,” you say, stepping back and handing him his sweater. 
“It’s not, Y/N. It was silly of me to be so nervous around you.”
“You were nervous?”
“I guess you don’t remember that part of the conversation either, huh?” he asks, pulling his t-shirt off. You’ve seen the rest of the group shirtless before, but Kai usually goes into the bathroom to change whenever you’re around. 
Your cheeks flush as you stare at his smooth skin and his broad shoulders.
“Uh, Y/N?” he says. While you were checking him out, Kai managed to get himself stuck. “I think my shirt is caught on my necklace. Can you help?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you say, working gently to untangle the fabric around his neck. You can feel how warm his chest is, reminding you of riding in the taxi on his lap. Eventually, you’re able to get him freed.
“Thank you,” Kai smiles. “I’m really glad you’re here. Everybody else is always rushing me.”
“I might get in trouble if you don’t hurry up, Hyuka.” You’ve never called him by a nickname before. It’s foreign to think about, but somehow rolls naturally off your tongue.
“Fine, okay, I’m ready,” he says, pulling the sweater on. The color actually compliments him really well. “Do you need to add any finishing touches?”
“Hmm, spin around,” you say, twirling your finger. Kai does his signature penguin stance and waddles in a circle, making you giggle. “No, you look cute.”
Your eyes widen as you realize what you’ve just said.
“You think I’m cute,” he smiles, doing a little happy dance. “Ooh, I’m the cutest boy in the world, huh?”
“Hey! I said you look cute,” you assert, crossing your arms in an attempt to play it off. He’s right, but you don’t want him to know that.
“Close enough,” he says, grabbing his crown off of the makeup table. “I should go. I’ll see you later. You’re the best!”
He pulls you into a hug, nearly lifting you off the ground. When you’re back on your feet, he presses a quick kiss to your cheek and leaves the dressing room. Yeonjun does it all the time, but it feels different coming from Kai.
Your hand moves to your cheek, lingering on the spot where his lips touched. Fuck. You might actually be falling for Huening Kai.
—————-
For the past two months, you and Kai have alternated picking out activities to do together. Last week, you taught him how to make banana bread. He almost set your apartment on fire.
Today, he’s invited you to his place to practice playing the piano.
You’re more nervous than you need to be. It’s your first time in his bedroom, but it’s completely innocent.
Except when you’re sitting on the piano bench together, knees and shoulders pressed against each other, and he’s got his hands placed over yours to help guide you, you feel butterflies in your stomach. That’s not how people who are just friends feel.
You’ve come too far to throw it all away over a stupid crush. He’s simply much too out of your league. Still, while he’s busy explaining chord progressions, you’re staring at how long his eyelashes are and how cute he looks when he’s wearing his glasses.
“Are you even listening to me?” Kai asks, pouting. “I thought you wanted to learn, Y/N!”
“I do!” you lie. “I am very interested in what you’re saying right now.”
“What did I even say?” He crosses his arms and furrows his brow in fake anger.
“Um…” you start. You know you’ve been caught. “I’m sorry. I was distracted.”
His face shifts to worry. “Is something wrong?”
“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s keep going,” you say, flipping through his binder of sheet music. “Oh, I love this song!”
You had never expected him to have the piano score to Night Changes by One Direction, but you aren’t complaining. In a way, TXT’s dynamic reminds you a lot of the long gone boy group. 
“This song is kind of like us,” he notes. You shoot him a confused look. It’s a love song, after all.
“What do you mean by that?” you ask, your palms now sweaty. 
“I just think it’s kind of crazy how things changed between us.” That’s not really what the song is about, but you’re not going to tell him that. “I’m glad we’re friends now.”
“Oh, yeah, super crazy,” you say, exhaling. “I’m glad we’re friends too.”
“Y/N?” he asks, his face close to yours. Is he about to do what you think he is?
“Yes?”
“You have an eyelash on your face.” He brushes a finger across your cheek and holds up the lost lash with a smile. “Make a wish.”
You blow it away, vowing to never let him know that what you asked for was him. 
“I have to tell you something,” you confess. “I don’t actually want to learn how to play the piano. I’d rather just listen to you play.”
“Oh,” he says, pleasantly surprised. “I can do that. Should I serenade you, too, m’lady?”
“Yes, please,” you giggle. His goofy side is such a nice departure from the gloomy, quiet Kai you were used to.
You’ve heard this song probably hundreds of times, but Kai’s version feels brand new. As you watch his fingers dance across the keys and listen to his soft voice, the lyrics begin to seem like they were written just for the two of you.
—————-
Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @beomgyubabybear @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9
P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!
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hecateslore · 2 days
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☆💋
pt.1, pt.2 and pt.3 are all here! (asks are open.)
Melting played softly in the background while you put your lashes on, blinking and looking at yourself in the mirror once you finished. You phone rang, you grabbed your remote lowering the tv's volume, answering it, "Yes," You said sweetly, "I"m down the street."
You stood up, checking your window to catch a glimpse of him on his bike. "Where's the bike?" You asked biting your nail, "In the shop, It had some problems." He said, "Forgot what it's like to drive. " He let out a breathy laugh. "I bet... So do you think you can stay this weekend?" You change the subject, not really in the mood to listen about all his bike drama.
"Yeah, I have to leave for a couple on Saturday, But then I should be good." He said. You were still looking out of the window, you could see him pulling into the complex, You hummed in acknowledgement, "I'll leave the door open for you, I need to finish my makeup and then get dressed." You hang up the phone, cutting him off like you normally do.
"Here." Simon shouted from your front door, he looked around your apartment noticing how spotless it was. Simon walked down the hall to your room, catching a glance of you lining your lips in your robe. "Creep." You mumbled watching Simon from the mirror. He chuckled and walked towards you, standing behind watching your do your last touches, You lifted your head back to look at him. Simon bent his head down, catching your lips in a kiss.
"You're still not done?" His hands rubbed your shoulders while you look up at him, "I need to change." You stared at him, "You have gloss on your lips." You sat back up.
He shrugged cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. You got dressed fixing your gloss and lip liner one more time before hitting the road with Simon. "So where are we going today?" You said from the passenger seat, "I got to make a couple of stops, then we can decide." He looked at you, You nodded.
You both pulled up in a building lot, majority of the buildings were empty, Price and Johnny outside, holding a black duffel bags and plastic bags wrapped shut with a rubber band. Johnny waved at you and you waved back, "I'll be right back," Simon pecked your cheek before getting out and talking to the men.
A couple of words exchanged before he came back in the car, "DO you want to get some food?" He asked casually, "That's fine." You mumbled, "What's wrong?" He sighed, noting your mood change, "Nothing, I'm fine." You faked a grin. Simon narrowed his eyes, before leaning in for a kiss, "Stop pouting." He popped your lip with his finger. "My lips," You swatted his hand, immediately going to check the mirror.
-
"Don't drop that one." You warned Simon who was holding what look like hundreds of bags filled with clothes, shoes, jewelry and random things for your house. You walked up the stairs carefully trying not to drop anything. "Let me unlock the door." You said aloud, mostly to your self. "Okay," You said quietly while opening the door. You went back to get the rest of your things.
Simon chuckled at the sight of all the boxes and bags that sat on the living room floor. "I'm gonna put all this away," You happily grabbed some bags taking them to your room.
Simon watched you walk off debating whether or not to hide one of the bags around your house for the moment. He bit the inside of his cheek in thought. "What are you doing?" You asked looking at Simon who was still standing in the middle of the room, "Was just thinking."
"Thinking about what?" You bent down to grab the last bags of clothes. "Stuff." He mumbled, "Yeah sure." You rolled your eyes, going back to your room. "Do you have to work tonight?" Simon yelled from where he was standing. "No, I took the weekend off." You yelled back.
Simon sighed, trying to figure out where he was going to store the bags, Somewhere you wouldn't notice, and how was he going to sneak them in without you knowing.
"You're still standing there?" You giggled, snapping him out of thought. "Is something wrong?" You cock a brow, "No, no." He shook his head. "I'm gonna get out of these clothes, when I come back don't be stone." You joked, Simon forced out a chuckle, that you obviously knew was a fake.
-
You laid on the couch Simon between your legs while you hum along to Barbara Streisand sing My Man.
oh my man, I love him so he'll never know
"How many times have you watched this?" He mumbled, voice muffled by your boobs. "Way too many." Your eyes never pulled away from the screen.
Oh, my life is just despair but I don't care
"Why's she crying?" He asked, "Simon shush." You placed you hand over his mouth. "I love this part." You mumble, "Why?" Simon whined. "Because I love this song," Simon rolled his eyes. "You just don't understand the lyricism." You pulled his hair, earning a quiet ow from him, "The lyrics are cheesy." He complained.
"It's because you've never been in love that way," You explain, "You're just shallow." You finished, Simon got up, "I'm not shallow." He said offended, "I wasn't trying to be mean," You chuckled, "but guys don't get it like women do."
"Sure. " He rolled his eyes, sitting back on the couch. "Here we go." You snorted, pausing the movie. "So now what?" You sit with your arms crossed, "Finish your movie." He says grabbing his phone. "You don't want to," You move closer to him, putting your legs over his thighs. "So when are you going tomorrow, so I can tell my other boyfriend to come over." You laughed.
"You wish you had another boyfriend." Simon teased, "I do, that way what you don't do, he will." You jested in return. "Ha, ha." Simon laughed sarcastically.
-
When you fell asleep Simon waited until you were deep in it, waiting for the perfect moment for him to go down stairs to grab the bags. He grabbed both of them, taking one out on your patio and hiding it in your gardening box, under all of your extra cleaning supplies. Hiding the other behind your washer and dryer.
He slipped back in bed laying next to you, "Why're you up?" You asked groggily, "I went to the bathroom." He assured you, "You smell like outside." You said mid-sleep. "I was on the patio taking a call." He lied. "Oh." You yawned. Simon kissed you forehead as you wondered back to sleep. Crossing his fingers hoping you don't find any of the bags these coming weeks.
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starry-bi-sky · 3 days
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I'm so annoyed. @kingcrow01 tumblr ate your ask about Danny's opinion on the League. tumblr i pressed 'save draft' why didn't you sAVE DRAFT.
ANyways I'm making a post instead. For everyone else, the ask was in summary:
What was Danny's opinion on the League now that he's left it? If he missed the familiarity of it, if he recognized the cult-like behavior inside it, and if he now detested his grandfather.
And to answer (again, grrr): It's complicated! We love complicated <3. Yeah, Danny does miss the familiarity of the League, it was still his home for the first ten years of his life and he has a lot of memories there. Plenty of good along with the bad, and while he's less homesick than he was when he was 10, it still hits him like a truck at random intervals.
Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are great, and he likes the Drs. Fentons enough that he's contemplated murdering Vlad for his meddling, but if he wants to eat the same food his mother used to make him and Damian, he has to do it himself and he can't get the taste right. No one knows arabic so he speaks it to himself because he doesn't want to forget his mother tongue, and he has a few books too. Frankly? He genuinely misses training.
Getting to use Sam's gym helps with his restlessness, same with training with Maddie, but he has no one on or above his level to go against other than his mother. And he only sees her twice a year at most. He knows that he's getting stagnant and he fucking despises it like a bad itch he can't scratch.
He feels conflicted about missing the League, however, since by now he recognizes the flaws and what was wrong with it, and he recognizes that it was cult-like. But even that is kinda, hrm, complicated? If this was a fic I would be able to go better into depth about what he has and hasn't unlearned because cult deprogramming is hard and Danny's doing most of this on his own.
Sam, Tucker, and Jazz have helped with the more obvious stuff: like the ecofascism, the disregard for human life, his emotional constipation; the more obvious stuff that shows in his behavior and personality. But none of them are professionals nor do they actually know the full extent of what Danny's life in the League was like. They only have snapshots since Danyal is very tight lipped about it. So they can only help with what they see themselves through Danny's behavior or word of mouth.
But in summary: He sees, for the most part, what's wrong with the League and disagrees with some of the stuff they do now. But he's very conflicted, and trying to dissect his feelings on the League confuses him. His protests about it whenever Sam and Tucker joke about it have at this point become mostly empty (altho it still causes him some discomfort), and its an inside joke between them three.
As for Ra's? Despises him. If only because Ra's wanted him to kill his little brother -- thinking about his motives with the League confuses Danny, cognitive dissonance and stuff, -- a lot of his hatred stems from "He wanted me to fight my baby brother to the death. I destroyed my relationship with Damian because of him, I had to fake my death and leave my home, and I will never meet my father or see my brother again because of him. Fuck that guy."
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starsstuddedsky · 2 days
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Blonde Phase
Renjun x gn reader
summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?
genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,
warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any
wc: 4.4k
a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3
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“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”
He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”
You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”
“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.
“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”
“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”
“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”
“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.
“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.
“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”
“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”
“I did not!”
“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”
“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.
“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”
You frown. “Tonight?”
“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”
“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.
He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”
“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.
And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?
.
.
Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.
“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.
“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.
You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”
Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”
“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.
“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”
“Seriously?”
Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”
You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”
“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”
“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”
“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.
“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”
“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”
“Those were their exact words?”
“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.
“That’s more on brand.”
Renjun nods.
You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?
“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”
Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.
You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”
You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”
He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.
“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.
“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”
When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.
He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.
“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”
You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”
“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”
You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”
You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?
To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?
“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”
“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”
“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”
You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.
“‘So, hair,’” he says.
“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”
This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”
You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”
.
.
“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”
“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”
Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”
You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”
He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.
“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”
“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”
You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.
You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.
You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.
He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”
“Hm?”
“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”
You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”
“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”
You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.
“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”
“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”
“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”
“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”
“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.
.
.
The timer goes off halfway through an episode.
“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”
“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.
You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.
“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.
You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.
“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.
You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.
He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.
“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.
His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.
Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.
“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.
“Hey!”
“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.
You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”
“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”
You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.
“I’m right,” Renjun says.
You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”
“For what?”
“Doing all of this for me,” you say.
“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”
You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”
Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.
You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.
“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.
“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”
“Not really.”
“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.
“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”
So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?
Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”
“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.
“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”
He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.
“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”
Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”
“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”
“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”
Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”
You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.
“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”
“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.
“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.
“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.
It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.
Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.
“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”
“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”
“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”
“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”
You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.
“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”
Renjun grins.
“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.
“I thought you liked it!”
“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”
“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”
“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.
“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Don’t underestimate them.”
You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”
“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.
“You like it?”
“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”
You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”
Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”
“We could have matching couples hair.”
He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”
“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”
“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”
“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.
Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.
“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”
You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.
“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.
“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”
For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”
“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.
You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”
He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”
His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.
There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.
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thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated
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luveline · 2 days
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Can you do hotch and pregnant!reader where they’ve been trying for a baby for awhile without success and he comes home from a mission to a pregnancy announcement?
pregnant!reader, 1k
Trying for a baby with Aaron is undeniably a good time. He’s the kindest man you’ve ever met. He loves you intensely. 
There’s been a lot of intimacy (crassly but obviously), ten times as many kisses, and a heap of disappointed hugs to mellow it out. 
“We aren’t in any rush,” he’d said last time, in the midst of a post-test back rub, his voice soft and comforting as always, “we just need to take our time. You’ll wish we took a little more time once it happens, I promise.”  
When you do find out, you’re overjoyed. He should know logistically that it was possible for you to find out while he was away, and he shouldn’t be surprised, but you’re hoping he will be anyhow. He looks moody walking up the path to the house, a little less when he notices you and Jack sitting on the porch swing with a jug of lemonade on the glass table. You take Jack’s glass.
“Hey, buddy!” he says, laughing as Jack jumps from the swing and rushes across the porch to tackle his legs in a hug. “Hey, buddy,” he repeats, gentler, “I missed you.” 
“I missed you too.” 
“Let me go put my stuff in the safe, okay? I’ll be right back.” 
He sends you a glowing smile and heads inside. Jack runs back to the swing and uses your leg to climb onto his cushion, turning his face up to yours. You can’t decide if he looks more like Aaron or Haley. 
Haley, you think after a few seconds. Jack has eyes like hers, big and round but with thick lashes in the corners that make them seem sparkly. 
“Are you gonna tell him the secret now?” Jack whispers. 
“Yes, I am. Do you think he’ll be happy?” 
“So happy.” Jack nods. “Like me. I can’t wait to have a brother.” 
“Or sister,” you say, putting the lemonades down on the table. 
“Or sister, but I want a brother.” 
Aaron returns in time to catch it. “You can’t choose, buddy, it happens at random.” He’s ditched his suit jacket inside, rolling his sleeves to the elbow. His first port of call is to pick Jack up and hug him like he’s something fragile. He guards Jack from the sun, turning half from you, and covers the small boy’s back with his hand. “You okay?” he asks. “You had a good time? Sorry I said I’d be back yesterday, but I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” 
Jack laughs into his dad’s neck. “You’re back today.” 
“You missed both of my questions, bud. How are you?” Aaron asks. 
“I’m excited! Y/N’s gonna tell you a secret!” 
You grin. Aaron turns to you expectantly. “Oh yeah? And you can’t tell me?” 
“Noooo,” Jack drags out. 
Aaron manoeuvres around the table, sitting on the porch swing next to you, the hooks creaking as he settles. Jack gets comfortable on his lap, eyes flashing between you and his dad excitedly. It’s as good a place as any to tell him the news, sunshine on your faces, his hand working behind your back. 
You smile at him before you start to speak. You can tell he already knows. “I found something out this morning.” 
“Yeah?” he asks, clutching at your back. His hand can’t stay still suddenly. It’s like a massage. “You are?”
“Yeah, I think so. The test says so. I took one of those strip ones first and it was two lines, and then I took a Clear Blue and it says one to two weeks.” 
“You’re pregnant,” he says surely, his lips turned up into a line, his smile as bright as you’ve ever seen it. 
“With a baby!” Jack supplies. 
“I’m just worried it’s too early.” 
“Honey, if the test says you’re pregnant, it’s not too early. How many did you take, just two?” 
“Four.” You nod, pulse going hard in your chest, you’re that happy. 
“Four,” he says, leaning in slowly to give you time to tilt your head. You close your eyes, smiling too much to kiss back as Aaron presses a loving one to your top lip, then just below, a pressure on the seam of your lips that makes you laugh. “I think you can be confident in their accuracy, then.” 
He kisses you again, then Jack. “What do you think about that, Jack? Y/N’s pregnant! She’s gonna get a big tummy.” 
“Like Mrs. Lundy?” 
Aaron cuddles him up to his neck. “Yeah, exactly like Mrs. Lundy. Wow. What should we do to celebrate?” 
Something in his voice has changed, turning scratchy and raw. You duck your head to peer at him through the shadow of Jack’s head, flummoxed by the sudden appearance of wetness in his lashes. 
“Aaron,” you murmur. 
He nods into Jack’s hair. 
“You are happy, right?” you ask. 
“Yeah,” he says, hugging Jack like he’s scared he’s gonna move away. 
You aren’t sure what he’s thinking about, if he’s happy or sad, though it’s probably both, but you know he loves you. You wrap your arm behind his head, the other around his arm where he holds Jack. “You know what four tests means?” you ask, giving his back a good rub with your knuckles. 
Aaron’s eyes blink open. He doesn’t cry, to your relief, he only leans forward to kiss you all over your closest cheek. “What does it mean?”
“It means I’m gonna have four babies, duh.” 
“Four?” Jack asks incredulously. “No way. Dad, I am not having four brothers. No way.” 
“What’s wrong with four brothers?” Aaron asks. “You’d only have to share your room with two.” 
“No way!” 
“We’re kidding, baby,” you say, taking Jack in where he sits on Aaron’s lap. You’d have been perfectly happy with just him and his father, but you’re ecstatic for another baby to bring up. Jack will make a good brother, and Aaron’s a great dad. “It’s one brother or sister. You’ll have your own room no matter what.” 
He sighs in relief that’s too big for his body. “Oh, okay. I’m excited again then.” 
Aaron gives the porch swing a rock with his leg. “Me too, buddy.” 
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formula1blog · 3 days
Text
Bust the windows out your car
Part 1 - Traitor
Part 2- Take me back to the night we met
Part 3- You are here
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EX Charles Leclerc x Singer Fem!reader
Summary: You publish a new album dedicated to your ex. And maybe let yourself get a little crazy.
Wc: 824
A/N: All the songs belong to their right full owners.
Tag list: @loloekie @callsignwidow
It had been a couple days since everything took place. There had been lots of breakdowns, calls from Charles, hating yourself and more break downs. There wasn't a day when Charles wouldn't text you. Messages were flowing in and you let them all read. You knew that if you spoke to him, you forget everything that happens the moment you see his green eyes. You jump right back into his arms.
Right now you were sitting on the couch, talking about your new album. "I don't know if it is a good idea," Pierre pointed out. "It is still illegaal and you probably have to pay for a new one." He had listened to your idea of shooting a video clip for your new single "Bust the window out of your car." Your idea was to go back to his apartment and look for his Ferrari in the garage. It would be great to let your anger out.
"I don't care about having to buy a new one. It is about sending a message and having a great clip for the single. He needs to know about the pain I go trough. This wasn't just some game for me. " Kika had cheered you on. She had gone with you to buy some baseball bats to hit the windows in. It was a red one to match the car and all of Charles's red flags.
You had written two songs about smashing his car. The other one was called 'Before you cheat'. You wanted to have prove by your lyrics.
The next day you found yourself back in Monaco. Everywhere you looked it reminded you of him. You knew Charles would be away at this time, still knowing his calendar by heart.
Walking inside the garage it didn't take long to spot the red Ferrari. Deep down it did hurt knowing your were going to ruin a piece of art, but it was the consequences he had to deal with. "There you are. I want to apolise for what is going to happen." You spoke to it like it understood you.
Pierre stood at the entrance looking out if no one was coming down stairs. He didn't like this. He knew that Charles wouldn't report you to the police, at least he hoped he wouldn't, that thought calmed him down a bit. But then Charles is also hurt. You never know what comes out of that.
The camera was pointing right at the car, which was gladly standing alone with no other cars around it. You didn't want to accidentally ruin someone else car.
Before you knew it you had hit in one of the windows and glass was flying everywhere. You grabbed one of your keys to leave a puncture in the tyre. Doing some poses on the hood of the red car and laying on top of it. You mounted the lyrics of the song pointing your head to the camera. 
Time went by and you had all of the material you needed for the clip. The car was ruined, but he deserved it. He can afford a new one. Just like he can afford a new girlfriend. You look around hoping no one spotted you/ "Where is Pierre?" You ask as you cannot find him anymore. Kika looked at you with a pity face. "Charles was here. Pierre went after him. " Your eyes widens at the mention of Charles. He was here? He didn't stop you? Kika shrugs her shoulders as if she knew what you were thinking. "Don't pay attention to him." You gathered up your stuff and left behind all the pieces of your broken heart. 
Y/N!L/N: New album out!!!! Stream ' Sixteen' on all platforms.
Y/N!L/N
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I want to thank to people who helped me get trough a hard time. I love you all.<3
-----
KiKaGomez: 🩷🩷🩷
KikaGomez: Absolute great music as always
-> Y/N!L/N: Thank you, gorgeous
Pierregasly: bonne musique, Y/n
-> Y/N!L/N: Merci Beaucoup Pierre
LoveYn: Mother is mothering
ILoveYN: Did anyone see that video clip by "bust the window out your cars??????????????????
-> f1b1tch: Yess, it looks a lot like his own car
-> carsf1: She ruined a ferarri
Totwolfflove: Charles is in the likes
-> Slutforyn: This is not a drill
SlayYn: Finally, new song. I love them all
F1Yn: Did they really break uo??
-> ClYn: I think. Pretty sure the album is about Charles and it are not nice songs.
-> F1addict: He is still in the likes
MaxVerstappen1: great album
-> User729: Max?????
-> mvetcl: Arianna, what are you doing here?
-> Y/N!LN: Thank you Max
Charlesleclerc: ❤️
-> User92: The audacity this man has
->ynlovw: Delulu much
-> Pierregasly: Mate, wtf
-> F1yn: Even Pierre is confused
Do you want another part?
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princessbrunette · 1 day
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this whole agreement was stressing pope out. though he’d convinced himself it was okay, he knew deep down that sleeping with you just because your lying, cheating kook boyfriend couldn’t make you cum was morally wrong. this time around had been a close call. too close.
his life had become something out of a cheap porno — he finishes his shift at the local pizza place, and cycles his delivery bike all the way to your place to lay it on you. it had even gotten to the point where pope had stopped bringing you pizza, because there was no longer a reason to pretend that was why he was really there.
things had gotten risky, and this time around he’d very nearly screwed things, your boyfriend stopping by and letting himself in whilst the two of you had been at it in the shower, your favourite pizza delivery boy having crowded you against the tiles with his head shoved into your crotch, hot water running down his toned back. he seemed to be enjoying himself a lot, despite it being you to have forced him in there due to the fact he was kind of vaguely still smelling like pepperoni.
you’d appeared sopping wet in the hallway with a tiny towel wrapped round you, eyes wide as saucers when you’d seen the boyfriend coming right towards the bathroom. “why are you here?” you practically barked as pope listens in as best as he can over the sound of the running water.
“i was in the area and i needed to pee. can i?” even now, the attitude drips off his voice and pope is gritting his teeth.
“do you need to? i’m showering.” you try to hide the panic in your tone as he shuffles past you, busting right in. you hold your breath, as does pope as he stands as still as possible behind the shower curtain.
he does his business, both you and pope stiff as a statue as he zips himself back up — looking around casually without a rush in the world.
“showering, huh? you know i got time. could always let me in there with you.” he takes a step towards the shower curtain, beckoning you and you panic.
“no! its— it’s not that kind of shower. its an everything shower, you know — shaving everything… and stuff. trust me, you don’t wanna go in there.” you convince, making the kook ken doll roll his eyes but back off anyway.
“you never wanna have fun anymore.” he grumbles, and you see him out. infact, you stand at the door in your towel and make sure he’s gone before returning and yanking back the shower curtain.
“nope.” pope is immediately speaking, shaking his head as droplets fall off his hair. he goes to move past you, reaching for a towel. “i can’t do this, okay! it’s stressing me the fuck out.”
your brows knit, grabbing at his slippery arms to try and get him to be still. “please? he’s gone, pope. i made sure… i— i need this. it’s been such a long week.”
he’s in the midst of wrapping a towel round his waist, glancing up at you through the fogged mirror. “you’re gonna have to do it yourself.” in frustration, you stomp your foot petulantly, still draped in a tiny towel. at your mini tantrum, pope raises his eyebrows — unimpressed and swivels his body round to look at you, intrigued. the brattiness melts away for a second and you avert his eyes, for the first time showing nervousness.
“i don’t know how to do that… why’d you think i need you so bad?”
now, that — was a turning point for him. he was trying to get himself out of this toxic (yet highly addictive) situation, but he couldn’t bring himself to pass up the opportunity to teach. especially to teach you, he always loved how pliant you got when told what to do.
it’s how your damp bodies wound up on your bed, towels discarded with your back to his chest, legs spread. his hands squish at your thighs bordering on being cruel as he holds them open, watching the way your fingers roll over the bead of your clit.
“see, there’s not really a science to it— it’s about figuring out what feels right for you.” his voice is deeper than usual when it’s in your ear, and you shudder at the sound, nodding and swallowing because it’s all you can manage. “its how i figured you out so fast, you’re so responsive — it gave me great feedback on how i could make you cum. just from following your bodies reaction.” he brings a hand down and easily adjusts your smaller one. “middle and ring finger for when you wanna go inside.” he slides them down to your hole, massaging the pad of his fingers against yours to aid your movement. “and the thumb stays right up here to rub your clit. are you getting it?”
“i would rather you— i would rather you do it.” the first time you try to speak, it’s your usual spoiled self — but your breath hitches in your throat and it comes out meeker the second time you try.
“i know.” he croons, and when his lips brush your ear you think he might be coming down to kiss your cheek affectionately. instead, he speaks again. “but then this whole thing would be pointless. you’re here to learn, right?
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softpine · 18 hours
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can i just word vomit for a min...
there was a point in late 2023 where i felt like i overstayed my welcome on simblr and i planned on just wrapping frozen pines up as quickly as possible and moving on. continuing to write when it's clear that the audience for it is dwindling felt so embarrassing that i almost didn't even want to put effort into it anymore, because i was afraid it just looked pathetic (obligatory disclaimer: no one made me feel this way, you're all so lovely, it's just the nature of seeing a community change over 7 years). writing already feels very personal to me and it's becoming increasingly harder for me to put my work out there (again, for reasons unrelated to simblr and entirely related to mental illness 🤙🏻). i know my story is so long that it deters new readers, and so sporadic that it makes old readers drop off with time. this has really been bothering me lately because i don't know what i can do to fix it. i don't think there IS anything i can do.
but. okay. don't make fun of me for saying this. dan and phil returning to youtube kinda changed my mindset? they may be pulling a fraction of the views they got in their peak, but they're happier than they've ever been and they're working on things they actually want to do, not things they think will be particularly popular. seeing that has made me realize that it is possible to keep finding joy in a community that has largely moved on without you. obviously my little blog is nowhere near the same scale, so this feels kind of silly, but i've been thinking about all the things i used to do on simblr that were never fun for me, i mainly did them because i knew they would get notes or because i felt like i had to do it. making cc, lookbooks, sim requests, reshade help (oh my god the reshade help), lot downloads, etc. they DID get notes, but i can't imagine spending my time doing any of that stuff ever again tbh.
on top of that, it makes me sad to scroll through my dash and realize that i don't recognize most of the people i see anymore. i still talk to some wonderful people here who i consider friends and that's invaluable to me (💖), but the broader community aspect is something i no longer feel a part of. and believe me, i know i'm at fault here because it's not like i'm going out of my way to talk to new people or participate in trends like i used to. i don't blame anyone except the passage of time!!
frozen pines, and simblr by extension, played such a gigantic part in my life when i needed it the most. and that's not to say that i don't still care about it, because i absolutely do, but it's a different kind of feeling. i've always promised that i would give frozen pines a satisfying conclusion rather than silently abandoning it someday, and though i do intend to keep that promise, i know it's possible that i might never get there. but i don't want to let my own insecurities get in the way of something i really enjoy doing. writing is an intrinsic piece of me that i'll never quit doing, but sharing my writing on tumblr is something that can't (and shouldn't) last forever. i know that. but i'm going to enjoy it to the fullest while we're all still here together 💞
to anyone who's still reading my silly story after all these years (especially those of you who still check in on my blog even though you're not on simblr anymore): thank you thank you thank you THANK YOUUU. you don't have to change a single thing about what you're doing. this is not me fishing for compliments or putting down an ultimatum, this is just me trying to make sense of my feelings.
but with all this being said, i've decided to quit simblr and start my own exclusive streaming service for $60 a year, i hope you'll all support me as i increase my production value 😌
(just kidding. ily. okay that's all)
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grace-kami · 2 days
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Quick P sketch this morning
I have to do this again. I know the last time I tried to take a break, I ended up making a whole bunch of good artworks but I think this time, I have to take a real break.
Without get too personal, I have stuff going on at home that's taking a toll on me mentally and I can't seem to keep myself focused. As much as I want to draw and get more stuff out for you guys, I just don't have the mental capacity or the patience for not just drawing but for anything right now.
I'm really sorry and I hope I don't lose follower for this but sometimes we all need to step back and rest.
Normally for me, all I need is a few days. When I get in these bumps in the road, I can usually deal with it and move on. I know I'm a tough lady. We will see how I feel in a few days ya.
And sometimes when I do come back to drawing after a break, I dish out some bangers. So hopefully that will happen this time. I still have a lot of plans for our puppet puppy that I want to get started on but I also don't want to mess it up because lack of focus. I think we all have been in this position before ya.
Just know that I'm still going to be here. I'll be reblogging everyones beautiful artwork and I definitely don't plan on leaving the LoP community anytime soon.
If anyone wants to chat, I'm always around!
So much love to you, my friends🫂❤️
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bloodyshadow1 · 2 days
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for the multiclassers with their level up to 14 there are options
Fabian is currently a level 6 fighter battlemaster/7 swords bard. getting a level in fighter means getting a battlemaster feature Know your Enemy. Which honestly I feel is underused in most dnd games, but can be very good for him where he's in school and has a much easier chance to observe potential enemies like the Ratgrinders. If he takes a level in bard, he doesn't get that much as it is an ability score level up so potentially he could get his 18 in charisma to 20, or he could get a feat. If he does go this route I think he should take a feat since Fabian's charisma is great already and he doesn't really use his spells in combat that much compared to the casters, he mostly uses it to get smites from Fandragor. There are a lot of cool feats that he could pick if he went this route, like sentinel that he had then lost in Sophomore year. Of course, there are other reasons to take a level, sometimes the most important thing is to take a level in a class to get closer to a higher level class feature. They don't have many more combats/episodes left, probably 1 before the finale so they could potentially have another level up. at 9th level get gets access to a 5th level spell.
Gorgug is in a similar space as Fabian, he's a 6 barbarian berserker/7 artificer barbificier. taking a level in barbarian would give him access to feral instinct that he lost when he took artificer levels. Advantage on initiative is good, but he's had disadvantage on initiative since he started getting stress tokens so I'm not sure how important that is to Zac. The level in Artificer won't give him much as it's an ability score level. He could boost his strength up to 20 to max it out or get his int to 18 for his artificer stuff. Or he could take a feat and then who knows what he's going to do. Of course, he could take 2 levels in artificer by becoming a 5 barbarian, and become a 9th level artificer to show off a feature of his new homebrewed subclass. I don't think he should since he would lose mindless rage that has saved him quite a few times and high level dnd has a lot of weird mind magic that can frighten and charm. As the biggest guy on the field he's the likely target. As we don't know much about Gorgug's barbificer subclass it could be worth it or it might not be.
Fig is more complicated since she has 3 classes, 10 lore bard/1 hexblade warlock/2 paladin. First off, I don't think she's going to take a warlock level, eldritch invocations are great, but she had them before and gave up a level of warlock for paladin. She seems to like the concept of Warlock, but mechanically it doesn't do much for her, the single level of hexblade is all she needs to be an awesome melee bard. Taking a level in bard would make sense given that we still have to see the outcome of her 30 or so roll on her new song. And doing so would give her access to 6th level spells. Also in regards to bard, I don't think Fig is going to switch her subclass again to swords or valor to get an extra attack. She might, but as a lore bard her magical secrets she gets have served her well, it's the reason she was able to use revify and counterspell. She has the normal magical secrets from being a bard, but who knows if she'd be willing to part with spells for another attack since Emily loves her spells. If she takes a 3rd level in paladin she'll be taking her oath, which is important to her story and what she's been struggling with. I'm not sure if she'd take a level this time or after their second to last fight, it might be more important for her then as a climax. She would get a class feature and honestly I could see it being a homebrewed feature since she doesn't really fit into any of the oaths currently available. Maybe conquest or redemption given how her storyline in intertwined with Ankarna, but who knows given how open Brennan is with homebrew. I also don't think Fig is going to give up her bard levels to get to 5 paladin by the end of the season. Her magical secrets she gets as a bard at 10 are just too good to pass up, she'd lose at least summon greater steed and another spell which I don't think would be worth it.
I am very excited to see how things turn out tonight to see how they level up.
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