#how do they listen to each other without getting lost in them??

[fleshclots]

PARABOLIC ARCH.

( cal gabriel / fem!reader )

NSFW - mentions of SH. sexual content despite there being no explicit smut.

calvin was a gentle soul.

from the day he met her to the day he started dating her, he kept to himself. he was shy and mushy, cheeks sporting a romantic shade of red at every compliment given.

cal liked to think of himself as as a guarded person. he doesnt like showing his emotions, let alone talking about them. it makes him feel weak. and calvin gabriel was anything but weak. if he were weak, he wouldnt have made it this far. the countless insults hurled at him in the hallways; the malicious girls that have tried taking him to bed because of some sick bet; the nights spent with blood drip-dropping into his sink, arms red and eyes redder — it wouldve taken him down by now. he wasnt weak.

he wasn’t soft, either.

as much as calvin adored you, he couldnt help but feel a twinge of disdain every time he found himself sucking up to her.

whether it was disdain at her or himself, he didnt know.

he’d rant to andre about it in his passenger seat, fingertips rubbing frustrated circles on his temples as his brunette friend listened with furrowed brows.

“i just… i feel like such a fag, andre! men are strong. and im not being strong! im, like, her little fucking lapdog. i hate it!” he’d complain, leaning his head back against the carseat.

andre would shoot him a perplexed look and reply, “i think being in love with your girlfriend is, like, the least faggy thing a guy is capable of.”

———

as his relationship with her progressed, things began to get… heated.

on cal’s eighteenth birthday, she threw him a party. not some huge rager, she knows better than that — cal hates things like that.

instead, it was a small gathering, consisting of cal, his girlfriend, andre, rachel, and a cabinet full of alcohol (a vodkuterie board, as andre labeled it).

as expected from a bunch of stupid teenagers, they got drunk. extremely drunk.

andre ran off somewhere, rachel got picked up. cal, for a while, sat with a hard-on in his bathroom without a clue in the world how to go about his urges.

he felt it. for the first time ever, cal felt it: yearning.

he wanted her. no, needed her. desperately.

yet, he couldnt bring himself to go ask. he felt so lame, so needy. he felt even worse perched upon his toilet with a throbbing groin and insecurity in his heart.

so, he hitched up his big boy panties, and marched down to find her in the living room.

the first time they had each other was a blur. sloppy pistoning of hips, wet kisses, and some old trojan that maybe-probably expired.

it was everything cal couldve ever dreamed of.

———

cal always thought that the whole “teenage lust” schtick was purity culture propaganda. he had never felt strong urges toward women, nor men. sure, he got horny, but it never shackled him like sunday school had told him it would.

that was, until he felt her. seen her. touched her, unlike how he had touched anyone before. it wasnt just sex he had experienced. he might as well have ripped open her flesh and crawled inside.

he felt one with her.

fuck, he hated it.

after andre lost his virginity, he behaved so normally. he wouldnt gush about her. his ears wouldnt pink at the mere thought of taking her again. he wouldnt do half the shit calvin found himself doing on a day-to-day basis.

and it made him feel weak.

———

cal kept a diary. before, it was made up of half-assed entries about his day, or the things he ate, or a new CD he was thinking about purchasing. after his birthday, it was all her.

drawings. fantasies. love letters. poetry.

it was no secret that calvin viewed writing as an outlet. a pen was his sword, and he would unleash his violence onto a page, sometimes ripping it to shreds or lighting it on fire on his bedroom floor.

when writing, he felt. he felt, hard. strong. he felt more than he had ever allowed himself to feel otherwise.

it wasnt a slow process. not at all. his innocent drabbles about a date he’d like to bring her on quickly became rather obscene.

i’d like to devour

rip her up and swallow her whole

and lick the flesh she resided in.

make her a sanctuary in my person

i want to make potions

with her saliva and mine.

her blood, my blood,

forever us and nobody else

four-line stanzas, jampacked with metaphors and phrases only he could stomach, stained nearly every page. the good ones, the ones that struck his heart, he’d rip out and tuck away in his bible (a small ‘fuck you’ to the big man above — the only temple he’d ever worship is the flesh on her bones).

he never planned on giving any of them to her. in fact, he didnt plan on anybody ever seeing them but himself.

alas, as she poked around on his shelves, cal looked away for just long enough for the crumpled pages to slip from their respective positions between luke and john.

he watched. she read.

“cal?” she’d ask, humor caked behind her tone. “what the hell are these?”

calvin would shrug, plopping down on her bed.

she would saunter over, hips swaying meticulously. calvin peered up at her, black pupils eating away at the surrounding blue. his hands found her waist, tugging her closer.

he gazed up at her like something holy, something special. his lips pressed a sweet kiss to her abdomen, just below her belly button.

cal breathed her in, peeling her shirt off of her body, lifting one of her thighs to drape over his shoulders.

he cracked her open, eyes fluttering shut, and devoured her.

a/n:

i LOVE THIS i cant remember the last time i got poetic w a oneshot like this

this was a request!! if u want to see more like it, pls let me know! <3

[thehunchbackoftumblerdotcom]

And to both their delight, the tour didn't. Well — not for a while, at least. Taking her slender hand in his, he lifted her swift onto the loft, gentle but quick. Clearly excited. Goat, girl and — gremlin, or goblin, or gargoyle, perhaps — in the presence of nothing but golden giants, stacked rafters, and stained glass painting them pretty. And for an hour or so, that was that. Grinning, Quasimodo planted a curled hand on his hip, proud and full of fervor. He scanned the belfry one last time before…

"Oh, how could I forget?!"

Shocked by his own folly, his one good eye widened as he thrust a finger out towards the last bell on their tour — the largest and most grandiose — housed by its lonesome near a tall wooden ladder, a ladder almost as crooked as he. It gleamed beneath the Sun's rays; as if a thousand spotlights shone down from high in Heaven, its surface seemed to glow, as if it were the Sun itself. Finally breaking from Esmeralda — and Djali's — side, Quasimodo approached the copper giant before them, rounding Big Marie with careful inspection. He quickly buffed a smudge from its surface with his forearm. "... And this is Big Marie! You know, despite her size, she always seems to slip my mind somehow." He let out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his hand against his forehead, all as if to keep the memory intact. He continued to encircle the bell, slow enough for Esmeralda to give fair chase. "I wish I could've met who made them. The bells, I mean. At a... foundry, they were cast, but— ... that's all I really know about their history." Gazing up at Big Marie, his eyes danced from each nick, to crack, to motif in its surface. "Well, aside from the little things each person left behind. Like... little pieces of themselves, I suppose. Their designs and writings, and such." Like lost friends, maybe. Makers he'd never meet, but felt he knew. He ran a hand against the rim's engravings, tracing the letters of each word with a slow, twirled intent. "… Ave … Semper…" He squinted. It was Latin. He wasn't great with Latin. "... Well, I can't tell you what that means, but— it's beautiful-looking writing nonetheless. At least, I think so. I've only ever whittled with wood — I can't imagine trying to carve into copper. I suppose it would get pretty rusty, working with metals all day... Or— I guess it wouldn't — not with working with copper, at least. Copper doesn't rust. But language certainly does; it gets 'rusty', I mean — like 'ave', and... 'semper', and— well, clearly my Latin isn't very good, and French is hard enough as it is..." he rambled — coherently, incoherently... he supposed it didn't really matter. What it felt was good. Good to speak with someone who seemed to really listen. Good to speak with someone he liked to listen to. He met Esmeralda's gaze once more, delighted to notice that, each time he did, she met his — without an ounce of fear, nor judgement. And he met hers, likewise. ... And right now, he was sounding like a dolt. "... The dust is getting to me," he sputtered out, trying to save face — as if he had a face worth saving. "Oooh, it's dusty in here. Do you— I mean— Do you want some fresh air? I promise no one will see you. Right up that ladder, right over there — I can show you the view of something other than bells, and bells, and... more bells." He glanced at Djali who, for being a goat, seemed to be visibly bored in a... childish kind of way. ... But he was a kid after all, so— Quasimodo tried not to read too deep into it.

Deliberate steps crossed the belltower, bare feet grazing the wooden floor as the dancer ventured higher. Awe struck hues gazing up at the golden bells, standing in all their glory. She spun around, her skirt fluttering around her ankles as she held her hands out.

“Hello? Anyone in here?”

The sound bounced off the bells, stretching over the cathedrals higher floor. The raven haired girl waited for an answer, her face an expression of curiosity.

[themarsbar]

real talk: how do they manage any conversation with this serious a case of Beautiful Big Brown Eyes on the both of them

[adeptustemptations]

Caleb was the perfect boyfriend. The kind of man anyone would dream of bringing home to meet the parents.

Your parents believed Caleb was a saint. He was polite, respectful, and always prepared gifts for them when visiting. He listened when your father talked about work, his eyes sharp with understanding as they exchanged business opinions while sipping a cup of coffee. Your mother adored him just as much; they'd spend hours in the kitchen together, with Caleb insisting on helping prep meals and later rolling up his sleeves to do the dishes without being asked. But saints didn’t press you up against your childhood bedroom wall while your parents were downstairs. Saints didn’t mutter filthy things into your ear as they sank their cock deep inside you, breath hot against your neck, body wound tight with restraint. Caleb was no saint. Not when he had his palm pressed over your mouth to muffle the little gasps he knew would escape from your mouth at each thrust he did. Not when he rutted his aching cock into you like he didn’t care that your parents were only one floor below. “Shh, baby. They'll hear...” he murmured, voice strained but still soft, almost teasing.

Your breath hitched behind his hand as your body trembled, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his back. He was careful—he had to be. He wasn't going to risk destroying the perfect image he built for himself with your parents. "I know, I know," he whispered against your ear, lips brushing your skin. "It’s so good, Mhm... But I need you to be quiet. We can’t be too loud, hmm?” You nodded, squeezing down on him at the thought, and he nearly lost his composure. “Shit,” he groaned quietly, “you just squeezed me so tight. You like the thought of that, hm? Getting caught by your parents?” You let out a muffled whimper, and he grinned. "Fuck–yeah, just like that. You take me so well, always so good for me," he groaned, his pace picking up, hips snapping forward. His other hand snaked between your thighs, fingers circling mercilessly on your sensitive clit until your muffled cries grew higher. "That's it, baby. Come for me, be quiet, just like I taught you." And you did, biting down on his palm as your body tightened around him, your release dragging him right along with you, spilling himself deep as he hissed curses into your skin. It was maddening, how easily he flipped the switch from the absolute gentleman your parents adored, to the man who always gave you the most intense orgasms of all time. Because when you both joined your parents again downstairs, he smiled like nothing had happened. He poured your dad some coffee and complimented your mom’s pie, throwing you the faintest smirk when no one was watching. All while your legs were still trembling under the table. Your parents had no idea how well Caleb was really taking care of their precious daughter. And he planned to keep it that way.

[MASTERLIST]

[stompandhollar]

Honestly the most revolutionary thing about Gravity Falls to me is its commitment to sincerity.

I’ve been listening to Alex’s podcast where he goes into the details of each episode with different storyboard artists and writers who worked on the show, and it just baffles me how… cared for the story is. Right now in media there’s been an uptick in satire, and shows making fun of themselves for existing, or taking the piss at their own content to “win” fans to their side. It’s like whimsy is gone from so many pieces of media. But Gravity Falls just doesn’t… do that. It completely embraces itself. Weirdness and all. And so does the team behind it. I’m not used to something I care about being so cared about by everyone surrounding it.

Here’s this cartoon, written and illustrated by an entire team of people saying, “no, we’re serious. we mean this. we made this on purpose and we made it important.”

Throughout the podcast, Alex discusses little ins and outs of each character, offering so much deep internal struggles and enriching the story even farther. And listening to him unpack it with the utmost sincerity just warms my heart. Each character is so dynamic because they were cared for by people who imbued them with sincerity.

That’s exactly why we get quotes like “Shame is powerful, but it grows in the dark,” as Ford realizes the trauma he’s hidden for so long is being embraced by his family, diminishing it’s weight on him through their immediate support.

It’s why we get Alex describing Stanley with quotes like; “I always in my gut thought of him as somebody with a huge well of sadness, a loss of human connection. And that need to please? That need to get laughs from the crowd, and putting on a big show? He’s trying to get from them the affection he never got from his family, and that he lost with his brother.”

Or detailing how Mabel might be a goof… but half the time she’s doing a bit, because she’s really more mature than her brother and doesn’t want him to grow up too fast. She’s trying to help ground him and bring lightheartedness into his life. Because she knows otherwise, he’ll become too self isolated.

And those two mini character studies he dropped so casually in these podcast episodes just… color the show. It’s why the show survived so well even after ten years. It’s gruff-old Stan always calling his niece “Pumpkin” and “Honey”. It’s the family always holding hands without it behind laced with a joke, and falling asleep on one another in the car. It’s Alex explaining that people toyed with other endings, other plot lines, other twists, but it was always going to end with Stan and Ford mending the family tie they severed thirty years ago. Because that was their story. Messes and family and care.

Ten years ago, watching it for the first time as it came out, I felt all that. But now, as an adult, knowing that all the other adults who made it felt the exact same way? :,) What a special story we all got to grow up with, and get to continue being apart of.

[bananastarlo]

I see you

childhood friend yandere x shy reader

You two are in the same daycare. He is the complete opposite of you — a loud, confident boy who charms both the adults and the other kids with the big grin he always enters the room with.

You, on the other hand, didn’t stick out too much. Always a bit more hesitant and shy around new people.

One of the things on the agenda today was a field trip.

Having arrived at the destination, the caretakers gave you instructions:

“Okay, little stars. Today is a wonderful day to play a game, don’t you agree?“

The others cheered in agreement.

“We hid clues that you’ll be able to find in this area! So get in pairs, if possible with someone new!“

As the childcare worker claps in her hands, the children scatter around, most of them sticking with their usual friend groups.

However, you stayed back. Nobody came up to you, and you were too anxious to approach the others, fidgeting with the sleeves of your shirt while focusing on the ground with your head low.

The caretaker took notice of your little form and exchanged worried glances with the other adults, slowly drawing near and crouching down to your level.

“Hey, have you found a partner yet?“

You shook your head no.

Reaching out her hand, she kindly offered to find a partner for you.

Yet, before you could take her hand, he appears in front of you — scraped knees, a backwards cap and messy hair — flashing you a boyish grin.

“Come on, let’s go together!“ he chirped, eyes glistening with fondness while yours lit up with happiness.

He took your hand and led you to where his friends were. They couldn’t understand why he refused their offer to pair up, until you showed up, shielded by his body.

As you both were hunting for clues, you felt yourself growing more and more relaxed in his presence.

He always protected you from slimy bugs and held your hand so that you wouldn’t get lost without him.

“You’re now my best friend.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question, because he wouldn’t accept you saying no.

And you smiled.

“I like that.”

And the smile you gave him was so genuine, he felt his own heart beating a little more than usual.

You spent the rest of your childhood years sticking to him like glue. You admired him and his presence.

One day, when you were older, you spent time at his house. It was basically yours as well, with how much time you spent there.

Lying next to each other, you faced away from him while he stared at your back, too scared to move.

At times, he could be quiet. He could be soft. But only you were allowed to see this side of him. Only you deserved it.

As he listened to your slow, rhythmic breathing, you turned around.

You weren’t expecting him to be so close — your noses almost touched.

And your stomach flipped at the sight of his half-opened eyes that now widened as much as your own.

He saw it — your pupils, dilated.

His heart began hammering against his ribcage, and he pressed his face into the mattress.

“What?“ you murmured softly.

“N-nothing! You just threw me off guard.”

His response made you chuckle. It was cute to see him without his usual confident tone.

As older teenagers, you both started to see each other differently.

Behind his golden-boy personality and sheepishly handsome face, there was something deeper, a protectiveness directed at you.

He saw you as a woman now. And you, well—

You planned a movie night. Just the two of you.

You’d both been so busy lately, you started to miss his annoying voice and the way he always made you feel right.

As the movie played, you became bored and decided to mess with him a little, just enough to get a reaction.

“Heeey,” you utter, laying your leg on his.

He grinned, showing the dimples you adored so much on him.

But as you started to snuggle up even more and chose to playfully ruffle his messy hair, he became serious.

His hand gently gripped your wrist halfway, and your smile dropped.

“Do you not realize what you’re doing to me? That’s not fair,” his voice croaked — low, with a dangerous hint.

You became nervous and replied, laughing the awkwardness off.

“What do you mean? I’m just playing with you.”

He sighed, propping himself up on top of you, which knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“I’m not the little boy anymore who took these things as innocent gestures. Please acknowledge me as a man. And if you were to do that with every man while being so oblivious… I would rather keep you locked up. Do you understand?”

You couldn’t deny the way that made you feel — more than it should.

[vincinnamontoast]

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 CAITVI X READER SFW & NSFW HCS 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

word count: 3.4k

contains: my random unorganized caitvi x reader hcs. lowercase intended, lightly proofread, nsfw towards the end. sorry this took me forever (</3)

❥ caitlyn is so insistent on you and vi quitting your jobs and just being her cute little housewives

❥ caitlyn keeps track of all of your periods, always making sure you have enough snacks and pads/tampons.

❥ all of you get a bit snippy with each other during your periods—because, unfortunately, they’ve synced up. But no matter how catty things get, you’re always there to take care of each other.

❥ vi loves to cook and caitlyn likes to clean up after. they’ll ask you to do little things like cut the carrots while you all yap

❥ caitlyn sleeps pretty early while you and vi stay up running around together. you try to be quiet for her but you and vi have each other cackling every 5 seconds. eventually you both are kicked out of the bedroom and have to continue your giggly shenanigans in the living room

❥ vi is the most physically affectionate, always wrapping an arm around you or caitlyn, pulling you into her lap, or resting her chin on your shoulder. caitlyn shows her affection in subtle ways—brushing your hair out of your face, fixing vi’s collar absentmindedly, always making sure you’re both taken care of.

❥ they both gang up on you when you’re flustered. If you blush, you’re done for.

❥ if you get cold at night, caitlyn will tuck an extra blanket around you, and vi will just throw herself on top of you like a human furnace.

❥ vi insists on braiding caitlyn’s hair but gets distracted halfway through and just leaves it half-done. caitlyn tries to act like she doesn’t care, but she secretly waits for you to fix it.

❥ caitlyn makes vi fancy cocktails and tea, even though she always complains it’s too strong or not strong enough. but vi always drinks it anyway.

❥ vi hates to admit it but she can’t sleep without either of you and a little night light in the corner (my baby girl ugh)

❥ vi tends to leave her boots and gauntlets lying around. you and caitlyn have tripped over them too many times. And unfortunately for you and caitlyn, vi loves her punishments

❥ vi fidgets constantly. If she’s not cracking her knuckles, she’s bouncing her knee or clicking a pen until caitlyn snatches it away.

❥ vi is always teasing you when she realizes something makes you flustered. she will never let it go.

❥ caitlyn tends to overthink everything. vi and you have to stop her from spiraling into a “logical” breakdown over simple things.

❥ caitlyn gets very particular about how things are arranged—her tea set, books, weapons. vi purposely moves things just to annoy her, which leads to you getting onto vi and caitlyn whining/fussing.

❥ caitlyn is secretly a perfectionist. If she cooks for you, she’ll throw out an entire batch if it doesn’t look right, even if it tastes fine.

❥ vi loves to bake and will randomly come back after a couple hours with a bunch of cookies and pastries for you all to share with a big smile on her face

❥ vi and caitlyn tend to stare at you a lot. caitlyn doesn’t do it nearly as much as vi does, but they are both mutually obsessed.

❥ vi is always humming or singing some song softly when she does like literally anything around the house. she loves when you follow her around to hear it (bc yes this bitch can sing.)

❥ they’re both incredibly protective—sometimes to an intense degree. It’s never their intention to be overbearing, but after everything they’ve lost, losing each other would be unbearable. they’re not willing to take that risk.

❥ vi plays with your hair all the time, whether it’s running her fingers through it or twirling a strand absentmindedly.

❥ vi games a lot and begs you to play with her. If you don’t, she’ll insist you and caitlyn are close. caitlyn will be reading or scrolling through her pinterest, while playing with your hair. (she can be on that app forever.) listening to vi yell and rage quit is just a part of your everyday life.

❥ If you or caitlyn are standing next to vi, she’ll always have a hand on you—your waist, your hip, the back of your neck. It’s like a grounding thing for her. physical touch is a big need of hers.

❥ vi struggles with separation anxiety, though she does her best to hide it and refuses to admit it. still, when you or caitlyn are busy or absent, she catches herself fidgeting—twitching her fingers, bouncing her leg, and blinking back tears she doesn’t want to shed.

❥ vi deliberately calls you the most ridiculous pet names just to see your reaction. “hey, sugar lips.” “vi, please.” she’s shameless, fully aware of how cringe she is—and she loves every second of it.

❥ vi is always trying to sneak kisses when you’re distracted.

❥ caitlyn brings you and vi tea in the mornings, adjusting it exactly how you like it.

❥ vi is better at comforting through actions, hugging, cooking, kissing, cleaning, and caitlyn is better with her words. they will give you both but they are better in certain areas in their own ways.

❥ the advice caitlyn gives is always the best, she loves hearing you rant and complain. vi does too, but she spaces out sometimes.

❥ caitlyn writes little notes for you both, usually sweet but sometimes sarcastic. (“vi, if you leave your boots in the hallway one more time…”) she’ll pack you both lunches with cute little sticky notes.

❥ caitlyn gets really quiet when she’s worried, but she’ll hover around you and vi until you ask what’s wrong.

❥ you and vi secretly love getting scolded by caitlyn.

❥ caitlyn likes to have some space after an argument; vi does not. caitlyn needs time to breathe and collect herself—it never takes too long, but vi wants things fixed immediately. she always caves first, apologizing even when it’s not her fault. and every time, it breaks both of your hearts.

❥ caitlyn will brush her fingers over your knuckles or the inside of your wrist absentmindedly, like she’s memorizing the feeling.

❥ vi tends to lean against walls, arms crossed, looking effortlessly cool—but if you or caitlyn walk by, she immediately straightens up like a puppy looking for attention.

❥ caitlyn carries herself with elegance, but when she’s comfortable, she relaxes—crosses her legs lazily, rests her head on your shoulder, lets herself just be.

❥ vi cannot keep her mouth shut or hide her expressions. baby is naturally expressive, so even when she insists she’s not upset, it’s obvious—the way she pouts, puffs her cheeks, and huffs under her breath gives her away every time.

❥ vi will spam call and triple or more text, while caitlyn will call or text twice at most to get your attention. but you can bet your ass you’ll be getting a mini lecture about not picking up her calls. you know something is wrong if you have more than 3 missed calls from her.

❥ they’re both highly observant, picking up on even the smallest details of your mannerisms.

❥ caitlyn has a very subtle smirk when she’s amused, and you and vi live to make it appear.

❥ caitlyn always bites her lip when she’s thinking, while vi taps her fingers against whatever surface is nearby.

❥ vi would absolutely fight anyone who looks at you wrong. caitlyn, meanwhile, will just ruin them socially. a terrifying duo truly.

❥ vi carries you if you’re tired. no hesitation. “c’mon, baby, you’re walking too slow.” she is a bit of a fast walker.

❥ vi would take a punch for you without thinking. caitlyn would make sure you never get into that situation in the first place.

❥ vi lives to make you laugh. she gets so excited to hear you cackle and giggle. and she knows she’s funny asf too.

❥ late nights when caitlyn has work in the morning (vi does too, but she loves staying up), you and vi roll into each other—kissing, giggling, playing games. you beg caitlyn to stay up, but once it hits 11 PM, she struggles to keep her eyes open.

❥ caitlyn sleeps early and wakes up early. vi, on the other hand, stays up late but still manages to wake up early—a leftover habit from prison. but if caitlyn doesn’t get her full eight hours, you can expect her to be moody and pouty all day.

❥ If you have a bad day, caitlyn will make you tea and quietly listen while vi pulls you into her arms and presses little kisses to your hair until you feel better.

❥ vi loves making caitlyn laugh—really laugh. It’s rare, but when it happens, she looks at caitlyn like she just won the lottery.

❥ caitlyn lets vi be reckless only to a point—then she pulls rank. “vi, no.” vi groans but listens.

❥ vi hates dressing up, but if you or caitlyn ask nicely? yeah, she’ll do it. she’ll grumble the whole time, but she’ll do it.

❥ vi walks on the outside of the sidewalk, keeps an arm around your waist in crowds, subtly but firmly making sure you’re safe at all times.

❥ caitlyn is more of a silent protector. she notices things before they become threats, watches your surroundings like a hawk, and is always one step ahead.

❥ vi has a terrible habit of pulling you onto her lap, no matter where you are. she’ll just grab your waist and plop you down.

❥ caitlyn is more likely to respect your privacy, but if you’re heading to the bathroom, expect vi to be right on your tail—watching you pee. deadass.

❥ vi loves hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about. even if she doesn’t understand half of it, she just grins and watches you like you hung the stars.

❥ vi always finds the stupidest excuses to get your attention. “baby, come here.” “what is it?” “…nothing, just missed you.”

❥ vi is obsessed with forehead kisses, especially when she’s feeling soft. It’s her way of saying, I love you without words. melts when you kiss and squish her cheeks.

❥ she lovesss being babied, which you and caitlyn love doing.

❥ If you’re wearing something cute or whatever? vi wolf-whistles and dramatically fans herself. caitlyn groans in the background. “vi, please.” caitlyn comes behind you to kiss below your ear “mmm so beautiful, sweetheart.”

❥ vi sulks when she’s sick and will only take medicine if you or caitlyn give it to her. “I’ll take it if you kiss me after.” caitlyn is the best caregiver when the both of you are sick, you will feel better in no time.

❥ If vi is feeling needy, she’ll flop down on top of you with zero warning. “what are you doing?” “dunno. just love you.” because you will give her attention. she is very puppy.

❥ caitlyn tucks your hair behind your ear so gently it makes your heart ache. she does it every time—even if it wasn’t in your face.

❥ If you fall asleep somewhere uncomfortable, caitlyn will immediately move to fix it. you wake up to a pillow under your head, a blanket over you, and buried in caitlyn’s arms.

❥ caitlyn is very particular about your tea (as well as vi’s. she knows how you both like it). If she makes it, it’s perfect. If vi makes it? caitlyn tastes it, sighs, and subtly replaces it with a better cup. vi will pout about this. It’s inevitable.

❥ caitlyn keeps an eye out for little things you might need. you offhandedly mentioned needing more hair ties? she has extras in her pocket the next day.

❥ caitlyn is secretly so touch-starved. If you initiate affection, she melts. put your arms around her waist? kiss her temple? she gets so soft.

❥ caitlyn fixes vi’s bandages with the most exasperated look, but you can see the tenderness in her hands. “honestly, violet, do you even try to be careful?”

❥ vi leans against caitlyn or you dramatically whenever she’s bored. you both just sigh and let it happen. she gets bored pretty easy.

❥ vi hyperfixates hard—if she wants something, she needs it now. caitlyn, on the other hand, is patient and willing to wait.

❥ they both compete to see who can make you blush more.

❥ the kisses you all share before parting for work, events, or anything else are downright sickening—it takes forever to break free from their hold.

"when will you be home?"

"do we need to pick you up?"

"you have your location on? I asked you not to turn it off."

"please be home before dinner."

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

NSFW:

❥ caitlyn and vi are lowkey kinky and into some wild shit—behind closed doors, it’s a whole different story.

❥ vi is a big moaner—whimpering, gasping, completely unashamed. caitlyn, on the other hand, has a softer moan but lets out more groans and grunts.

❥ both of them are very vocal and talkative during sex—whispering, teasing, praising, and never letting a moment go by in silence.

❥ this is so random but vi decides she wants to go zip-lining for her birthday, and the way they both effortlessly slip on, adjust, and tighten their waist harnesses has your legs squeezing together. they notice. grinning at each other before tightening your own harness, vi leans in, voice teasing—"you like that, pretty girl?"

❥ vi is best with her mouth and fingers, but she’s a god with the strap regardless—just a little more reckless, rough, completely lost in it. caitlyn, on the other hand, is all precision, focused on hitting every spot and angle with near-perfect accuracy.

❥ vi gets so into making you squirm. she’ll kiss you deep and then pull away just as you’re chasing after her lips.

❥ caitlyn loves whispering in your ear—low, sultry, making promises that send a shiver down your spine. “you’re being so good for me, love.”

❥ vi lives for praise during sex. tell her how good she’s making you feel, moan her name like it’s the only word you know, and she’ll melt—eyes hazy, lips parted, desperate to hear more. She craves it, thrives on it, and if you whimper out a “just like that, baby” or a breathless “you’re so good to me,” she’ll only go harder, more determined to pull every sound from your lips.

❥ vi has a thing for spit—messy, unrestrained, completely shameless. she loves the way it glistens on your lips after a kiss, the way it drips down your chin when she pulls away just to admire you. and when she presses two fingers against your tongue, eyes dark and teasing, voice thick with want—"c'mon, pretty girl, let me see,"—you don’t even hesitate.

❥ vi is a mess between you both—panting, whining, completely unraveling. caitlyn keeps her steady, fucking into her with slow, precise thrusts, while you cradle her face, kissing her deep, swallowing every gasp and moan. she tries to keep up, tries to kiss you back, but she’s losing herself fast—her body trembling, fingers digging into your waist as she chokes out a desperate, “fuck, baby—” before her words melt into nothing but needy whimpers.

❥ you never stand a chance against them. vi is relentless, all hands and teasing remarks, while caitlyn makes sure you’re completely overwhelmed.

❥ caitlyn and vi love ganging up on you. one whispering filth into your ear while the other makes sure you feel every word.

❥ vi is all passion and need, caitlyn is slow and deliberate.

❥ vi bites. hard. jawline, neck, thighs—she wants to leave marks, wants people to see them and know you’re hers.

❥ vi has a filthy mouth. whispering in your ear, voice low and husky, telling you exactly what she’s going to do to you.

❥ If you’re in public, vi will lean in, press her lips just below your ear, and murmur something filthy—acting completely normal while you try to keep your composure.

❥ caitlyn has a thing for control. she’ll make you wait, make you beg, smirking as she keeps her touch just out of reach. “patience, love. I’ll give you what you need—when I decide you deserve it.”

❥ vi loves whispering dirty things in caitlyn’s ear while she is teasing you—grinning as caitlyn’s composure finally cracks.

❥ If vi is feeling extra possessive, she’ll wrap an arm around your waist, nipping at your neck while caitlyn smirks and watches. “damn, cupcake, she looks so pretty like this, huh?”

❥ the moment vi realizes she actually loves you taking control, she’s gone—gripping your hips, looking up at you with blown pupils, breathing all heavy. scratching at your back and whimpering in your ear. to see her undone is heavenly.

❥ she loves when you grab her by the jaw, forcing her to look at you while you shove your fingers inside her, curling them into her. If you’re feeling mean, you can even whisper, “what’s wrong, vi? thought you were tough?” and watch her whimper.

❥ eye contact is their thing during sex—intense, unwavering, drowning you in it. Vi’s is raw, desperate, like she’s trying to etch the sight of you into her memory, needing to see every reaction. caitlyn’s is calculated, focused, like she’s studying every twitch, every shiver, just to use it against you. It’s so intimate it makes your chest ache, so intimidating it has you squirming, but they don’t let you look away. not for a second.

❥ vi is loud. she groans, pants, grits her teeth like she’s trying to hold back, but the second you really start working her up? she loses it.

❥ If you drag your nails down her abs, tracing every ridge of her muscles, she shudders—grabbing at your thighs, fingers twitching like she doesn’t know whether to fight back or let you have your way.

❥ pull vi’s hair. grab her by the roots, tug her head back, and she moans—not even trying to hide how much she likes it.

❥ she’s obsessed with your confidence. If you lean in, teasing against her lips, voice all sultry, “you’re so desperate, vi,” she growls—trying to flip the script, but her grip is weak, and you’re already pinning her back down.

❥ if you take your time, dragging things out, teasing her just enough to make her beg? she hates it—but she’s also so into it. “please, baby, don’t be mean—need you, fuck.”

❥ caitlyn is a quiet mess when she’s being topped—breath hitching, lips parting, biting her lip like she’s trying to hold back. It’s absolutely gorgeous.

❥ caitlyn has a weak spot for when you talk her through it. “you feel good, cait? you’re so beautiful like this.” her head tilts back, her breath shuddering, and she completely submits.

❥ vi gets so soft when you take your time. kissing her shoulders, whispering her name, telling her how beautiful she is. “fuck, baby, I—” her voice cracks, and you feel her clench around your fingers.

❥ when vi is strapping you, she’ll dip down, lips brushing your ear, voice low and wrecked—"I wish I could feel what it’s like to be inside of you." there’s something desperate in the way she says it, in the way her hips stutter for just a second, like the thought alone is enough to drive her crazy. and then she’s fucking into you harder, chasing the next sound you’ll make, needing to feel you in every way she can.

❥ when vi is topping caitlyn, you can’t help but just watch—completely mesmerized, warmth blooming in your chest at the sight of them tangled together, loving on each other so deeply. It’s something intimate, something raw, and you adore them for it. but then, as if they can feel your gaze, they both turn to look at you—eyes soft, full of something even deeper. caitlyn reaches for you, vi smirks, breathless, and then comes the invitation, low and tender—"come here, baby."

❥ they love you so much, and they love each other just as fiercely. being in a relationship with them is like having a force of nature on your side—wild, protective, and all-consuming in the best way.

a/n: they’re so cat and puppy omg, hope you like <3!

[yeahxsurexokay13]

wrong guy, lando norris

summary: fans think yn is dating max, but they've got the wrong guy [bsf!reader]

been a min since i posted! honestly, these just take me way too long and i usually end up abandoning them because i start hating them halfway through from overthinking lol. hope you enjoy this one though (: xx

y/n.y/l 📍 Ibiza, Spain

Liked by riabish, carlossainz55 and 159.870 others

y/n.y/l we only argued 3 times, cried 2, and got lost 1 (personal record)

view all 579 comments

user9 right so who argued? who cried? and most importantly whO IS THE SHADOW?

user14 can we talk about how u're LITERALLY glowing in that first pic? u look so happy, girl!!

user20 the vibes on this dump… rich people's holidays just hit different.

iamrebeccad ✓ Beautiful girl 😍

y/n.y/l 🫶🏼 miss youu!!

user4 “cried 2 times” is actually impressive ♥︎ by author

user55 lando and max just casually being brothers in the fourth pic 😩❤️

user81 that shot is just *chef’s kiss*!!!! Glad we can always count on this queen for hq content

user63 Okay so I’ve been staring at this shadow pic for like 10 minutes, and I can’t figure it out…

user33 my money’s on max bc that hug pic of them earlier too… feels very coupley.

user63 idk friends to lovers agenda thriving tho

user3 Max and Lando with the face masks are killing me 😂 ♥︎ by author

user6 max or lando? place your bets now. i’m team max but i’ll die on this hill if i'm wrong

user2 which you are, because it’s definitely Lando

user8 guys they’ve literally known each other since forever and go on these friends holidays all the time lmao this is just FRIENDSHIP GOALS. stop romanticising everything!!!

user24 then explain the head kiss?

user8 friendly head kisses???

user24 friendly kisses?? in this economy? be serious. that’s couple behaviour

user12 smells like a third wheel in here…

y/n.y/l sorry, that's just me. i am the third wheel🙋🏼‍♀️

user13 she really said 'stop shipping me with my best friends' lol

user44 max and lando with the face masks in the water might be my new favourite photo of all time

user16 ngl that's not bad statistics for a week long trip ♥︎ by author

user11 If it’s Max, I’ll cry. If it’s Lando, I’ll cry harder. If it’s neither, I don’t know what I’ll do.

user18 i’ve been following these three for years and i’m still trying to figure out if that last slide is supposed to be romantic or not….? HELP I AM SO CONFUSED

user22 what book is that? i need recommendations!!

y/n.y/l just for the summer!!! LOVED it x

user10 i can’t believe she was so chill about posting thAT LAST PIC!??!! miss y/l!!! SPILL NOW

maxfewtrell ✓ Why are you saying 'we'? Pretty sure you were the one who did all of those

landonorris ✓ classic move, shifting the blame

y/n.y/l @/landonorris @/maxfewtrell the getting lost part was definitely a team effort

user1 I need to go on a trip with friends like this ♥︎ by author

user5 being that close to lando AND max and surviving the friendship without catching feelings was too good to be true let's be honest

pietra.pilao 😍😍

y/n.y/l 💞💞

user7 so when’s the next ‘friends holiday'? asking for a friend (me)

15 August 2024

maxfewtrell ✓

Liked by landonorris, y/n.y/l and 98.982 others

maxfewtrell The real girlfriend reveal, for the record 🫡

👤 pietra.pilao

view all 398 comments

user1 WAIT WHAT

user6 so it really wasn’t Y/n??

pietra.pilao ❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author

user4 omg she's the girl who commented on yn's holiday dump!!!

user3 We owe Max and his gf an apology 😭 She’s stunning, btw

user2 omg u two are so cuteeeeeeee! happy for u max :)

user5 your gf is so pretty 😭😭😭

y/n.y/l P!!!! 💕💕

y/n.y/l you two make a better couple than you and I ever would anyway 😂 ♥︎ by author

user9 WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS EARLIER?! we’ve been spiralling for WEEKS

user12 actually he's been saying it from the beginning. we just didn't want to listen 😂😂

user8 max: “here’s my gf. leave me out of y/n’s business”

user12 OK but pietra is STUNNING!! Max, you’ve been hiding her for how long?!

user7 the way he had to clarify this because of us is actually hilarious. sorry, Max.

user11 OMG I feel so dumb now we really had y/n in a whole relationship she wasn’t even in 😭

29 August 2024

y/n.y/l

Liked by oscarpiastri, sophiaaemelia and 289.034 others

y/n.y/l outtakes from ai·bee·thuh

view all 930 comments

user1 AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!?? MYSTERY SOLVED IG

user12 I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE GREATEST THING TO HAPPEN TO MY FEED THIS YEAR I AM NOT EVEN JOKING

maxfewtrell ✓ So Lando gets the cute video and I get the passed out in the car pic? Playing favourites, I see. Noted.

user8 Max calling out Y/n for favoritism is peak sibling energy

user33 i can't believe we were full on shipping them not even a week ago omg

maxfewtrell ✓ Also, can everyone stop tagging me in that shadow pic now? Like, I’m good, it’s definitely not me 😅 ♥︎ by author

user11 pietra honestly deserves a medal for surviving this holiday with these three omg

user17 GUYS I WAS ALREADY PRETTY SHOCKED AT LANDO'S VIDEO BLOWING A KISS I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I HAD COMING

pietra.pilao Special week 🤍 ♥︎ by author

user81 the lift photo with the McDonald’s bag is so relatable. even on a fancy holiday, you gotta have your nuggets ♥︎ by author

user25 turns out Max wasn't lying when he said y/n wasn’t his headache... lando’s the lucky one 😂

user10 and y/n and pietra? they do ✨besties ✨ better than anyone ♥︎ by author

user19 can we get a ‘whoops, my bad’ from the ppl who saw them in Ibiza and STILL missed the fact that Pietra was there?

user2 they literally had a front row seat to the full gossip and still didn’t catch on !!!!! like hELLO? u had one job

user14 THE SOFT LAUNCH TURNED INTO A HARD LAUNCH REAL QUICK I AM SHOOK

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ Ahhh loveeee 🩷🩷 ♥︎ by author

user26 both boys punching above their weight fr. i said what i said.

francisca.cgomes ✓ ❤️❤️😍 ♥︎ by author

user16 The way Max is sleeping in that last pic has me wheezing ♥︎ by author

user3 lando is literally holding y/n like he’s never letting her go boy is WHIPPED

user29 WE'RE GOING TO SEE "LANDO NORRIS' PARTNER" UNDER YN'S NAME NOW WHEN SHE WATCHES FROM THE GARAGE what a time to be alive

user7 not the way y/n is casually posting a McDonald’s bag in a robe and THEN dropping the most beautiful couple pic with lando

user5 waIT SO THE BOY KISSING HER HEAD IN THE SHADOW PIC WAS LANDO??? WE WERE ALL WRONG. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.

maxfewtrell you know, it truly baffles me how this was barely even considered

y/n.y/l no one believed in me enough to be able to pull f1 race winner lando norris. humbling.

user20 YN I - 😭😭😭😭💀💀

user38 it was a couple’s holiday the whole time 😭😭 I need a moment to recover

user9 this fandom’s clownery knows no bounds istg.........

user21 not me crying over the hard launch of the year when I was just admiring Max’s sleeping face 5 seconds ago

user24 Ibiza really gave us everything: friendship goals, couple goals, and max in a food coma

user18 IT WAS LANDO KISSING HER HEAD. I feel so betrayed by my own theories and also pretty disappointed in myself i couldn't tell it was his shadow

landonorris ✓ I see you saved the best for last 🖤

y/n.y/l ☺️☺️

y/n.y/l omg guys i wasn’t being dry i just don’t know what else to say with all you watching 😭😭

1 September 2024

[tojisteddy]

Sweet Ride | smut, 18+ MDNI, 1.2k words, softdom!Toji x sweetheart!reader

You’d been 3 months into your relationship when Toji Fushiguro finally realized that you, for some odd reason, loved letting idiots fuck you.

It must’ve been where that very minuscule masochism kink came from. Had to be.

He’d noticed the way you’d get shocked when he went to pay for— well- everything. Didn’t matter if he lost a shit ton from gambling and losing that day, didn’t matter if you went over your own set budget, didn’t matter that you didn’t ask because you didn’t want to look money hungry or if you quickly pulled out your card and paid. He’s sending $300 to you to make up for it. The man. Was going. To pay.

Toji also noticed the way you’d shy away when you realized he was actually listening to the words that came out of your mouth. Informing you that he hated that coworker of Sherl just a little bit more than you did. Plainly telling you ‘no’, he didn’t just want to see just your hair bone straight- he wanted to see your curly hair that framed your face (when you wanted to of course) and that he thought you would look good with any hair color not just the jet black. Or when you only went to make food that he liked,

“But this is what my ex-“

“—Mama, what do you really wanna eat? Tell me or we’ll both starve tonight.”

Truthfully, it irritated the fuck out of the man.

He didn’t get it, how someone so precious got treated like shit on multiple occasions. He kept reminding himself that you weren’t the problem, those fucking dick wads were.

But the irritation jumped back out when you rode him. He knew after that first time (just a week ago) that those fucking idiots didn’t know what the fuck to do with you. He’d cock his eyebrow up at you because he simply couldn’t hide the vexation of it all.

“You don’t like it Toj?” Your voice was hoarse, curls falling over your face, a pout forming.

It was clear the way you moved your hips back and forth, held yourself and didn’t use him for leverage, you rode your ex’s to get them off and nothing more.

More sins against God.

There had to be a scripture about it somewhere, “Never let thou spouse ride-ith you in cowgirl without her cumming.” Or something— the man didn’t know. He knew for a fact, only a bitch would never let a woman cum while she’s riding him.

“Toji? ‘M sorry, it must not be good.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to relax, not be too touchy. “ ‘S just harder cause you’re so… so big. ‘Nd I- fuck- mmm- don’t think I’ve ever had time to relax like this. I must be takin too long.”

Shit, you frowned, big brown puppy eyes looking down at the green eyed monster and his heart ached. He nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, his poor pretty baby. Sweet doll, don’t you worry your little head. Your Toji would fix this little problem tonight.

And when you two were done, he’d beat the fucking breaks out of each and every single one your exes.

It would cleanse the soul.

“ ‘S okay baby, yer doin good. Need you to relax f’me. Want you to take a little bit more though, hm? You can take it, right? You’re a good girl.”

You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.

Such a good girl. Toji’s sweet ‘nd good girl.

Tojis hands pulled you closer. “How do I get ya to relax then? Can you tell me?” You felt your cheeks heat up, shaking your head and attempting to hide yourself in his neck. But Toji kept you still, playfully bumping your foreheads together with a chuckle.

“Let’s find out then,” His hands wandered, up and down your sides, then one staying at the small of your back, the other making its way to your pretty tit in his hand. Slowly massaging it in his palm. “Maybe you like it here?”

You whimpered in his mouth and Tojis scar moved upward in amusement, green eyes low. He left a trail of kiss from your cute cheeks, down to your jaw. “Or here?” Down to your neck, taking a few nibblies here and there. “Or here?”

You let out a soft moan, finally nodding your head.

“Words, mama.” He was stern but you felt the grin against your neck.

“T-there feels— feels so nice Toj.” The man hummed at your words, being sure to praise you with an array of kisses and hickeys for the world to see tomorrow on your neck.

“I-I can move now?” You asked. You felt so full with what he was giving you, but you felt so good with every little kiss the aching tip and veins of his member gave to your walls.

“Course doll.” He enterwinted your fingers, “Gotta take it nice ‘nd slow baby, don’t gotta go fast.”

You gulped, gradually lifting yourself up and down and rocking your hips back and forth, then repeating the motion. Your hands left his large ones, starting to use his shoulders as leverage, “There you go ma, there you fuckin go.”

He hissed, you were a god damn waterfall down there. Toji didn’t even know how the fuck you were still managing to keep him insider everytime you’d move up so just the tip was in, and slamming back down. When you tried to go faster a large calloused hand came down to your ass.

“B-but Tojiii,” you whined, slowly swiveling your hips one time to get a curse out of him. “Wanna make you feel good too.”

“ ‘Nd I ‘ppreciate Doll, I do. You feel so fuckin good too ma, but it’s not about me tonight, ‘s about you. Need you to really feel it deep in your pretty pussy.” He gave you a few thrusts, matching your rhythm creating the most beautiful smack smack smack your bedroom has ever heard.

“Take what you need babygirl.”

Toji had a way with words, he’d gotten a pornographic moan from it alone. Your nails dug into his shoulders, the meat of your thighs jiggling every time you came down. Slick drenching Toji’s cock, your thighs were burning but you kept moving. Chasing your high with every bounce on his fat fuck.

“Goooood girl, now you got it doll.”

“I can— I can take more Toji.” You stammered out.

“I’d loooove that sweetheart— shit ma- but not tonight. Ngh— This is just enough.”

“But—“

“-Aht,” he grumbled, helping you move your hips as you got just a tad too slow for his liking, “don’t bite more than you can chew. Come on, you can make yourself and your boyfriend cum, can’t you?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you were grinding and slamming yourself down what you could take as hard as ever getting a loud from Toji. You were such a good and fast leaner, the man would have to keep you. Train you to do other things, soon enough you’d be able to take all of him. You were fucking pulsing like a over worked heartbeat around him as a wave of emotions smacked you over the head, a string of fuck fuck fuck and Toji Toji Toji leaving your mouth.

The man growled, giving your ass a few harsh smacks as he rapidly thrust into you. You never knew when you were cumming so you never vocalized it.

You’d work on that too.

Quickly pulling out, spurts of his cum hit your stomach. You both were panting messes, Toji’s pink lips meeting your temple, then your soft full lips.

“Good fuckin job, mama.”

a/n: ride the dragon by fka twigs

most recent masterlist

[dahlibae]

OUR ETERNAL SUNSHINE.

wandanat x female!reader 🌞 𐙚₊˚⊹♡

summary – You noticed her in the quiet of the library: mysterious, magnetic, and seemingly lost in a world of romance books. What began as a fleeting curiosity quickly spirals into something deeper when you cross paths once more. But just as you begin to imagine the possibilities, you learn something unexpected: she’s not just unavailable – she's already married. To another woman.

warning(s) – none: slow(ish) burn, this chapter is just rlly setting the pace!

word count - 4.3K

CHAPTER 1 - intro (end of the world)

The weekends are never free.

You work those two days at the local library. It’s a quiet, well-kept branch tucked between the city’s community centre and an old record shop that nobody other than the elderely frequent. It doesn’t get much foot traffic except on rainy days and school holidays. You like it that way. The silence helps.

Shuri works here too. She's the one who got you the job. You’ve been friends since undergrad, when the two of you ended up as lab partners in an elective you barely remember registering for. She talks fast, moves faster, and always seems to know what she’s doing. When she found out you needed a weekend job to stay afloat between lectures and placements, she cornered the head librarian and handled it. That’s just how she is.

And Shuri’s graduating this year. Engineering major, already accepted into MIT for grad school. You’re not surprised. She’s been designing micro-robotics in her free time. You’re in a different lane entirely – currently in your second year of law school.

You transferred from your hometown university last year to pursue a better legal program. Born and raised in a little city on the West Coast, the kind of place that never really felt small until you left it. Your family’s still there – your father, who works in accounting, and your younger sister, who’s finishing highschool. Your mother’s out of the picture. She left when you were eleven. The need for freedom had outweighed her love for you and your sister. You don’t talk about her much, but you remember that year like a turning point. That’s when you started thinking seriously about what justice means – what it looks like when someone walks away and no one holds them accountable.

You don’t come from money. Your tuition is covered by scholarships, student loans, and part-time work. You’ve never minded working. Law is expensive, but the work feels worth it.

The library job is manageable. You clock in on Saturdays and Sundays, help with cataloging, and shelve returns. Between that and your classes, your schedule is tightly packed, but routine keeps you focused. Besides, it’s peaceful here. Predictable. That’s not something you get a lot of as a law student.

Shuri calls it your “mental detox zone.” She’s not wrong. And when she’s working the same shift, the two of you make time pass quicker. You argue about your favourite movies, and alternative endings. You quiz each other on useless trivia. You swap snacks behind the desk. You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

This morning, she corners you behind the returns trolley.

“Don’t bail tonight.” She says without preamble.

You glance at her over a stack of fiction. “On what?”

“My brother’s housewarming party. I told you last week.”

You pause. “Thought that was just a small thing.”

“It is. Small enough that you can blend in. Big enough that you’ll meet some interesting people. A few new lawyers from his firm will be there.”

You shake your head. “I have readings – ”

“No,” she interrupts, “you have excuses.”

She gives you a pointed look, like she already knows you’re not saying no for academic reasons. “You’re always saying you want to get your foot in the door. How hard it’s going to be for you to succeed because of your background. My brother has the door. And the house the door is attached to. Go talk to people. Make a contact or two.”

You sigh, but you’re listening. Because Shuri’s been trying to help you since the day she found out you were serious about law. She keeps pushing you in T’Challa’s direction – panel discussions, court hearings, networking mixers, anything that might be useful.

“You’re lucky.” She tells you. “Most people don’t have a direct line to someone already working in their dream field.”

She’s not wrong. But you’ve never been great at the social side of this. Networking feels like performance. You prefer doing the work, not selling yourself.

You don’t give her a firm answer, which means she’ll bring it up again by the end of the shift.

You look at the clock above you.

It’s around 11:10.

Almost time.

For the woman.

Blonde. Tall. Usually dressed in casual layers – sweaters, cardigans, jeans, boots. She carries herself like she has somewhere else to be but chooses to be here instead. Sometimes she’s with another woman, blonder, smaller, serious-looking. Other times she’s alone.

Today, she’s alone.

You notice the titles she picks up. Always romance. Sometimes older classics, sometimes newer ones. She lingers on pages. Reads the back covers. Often sits by the windows with one or two open in her lap but doesn’t always check them out. She seems to read for comfort, not completion.

You don’t know her name. You haven’t said a word to her. But she’s been showing up regularly, and her presence hasn’t gone unnoticed.

When she’s here with someone else, you keep your distance. When she’s alone, you find ways to be nearby. Pretending to sort paperbacks in the next aisle. Adjusting spine labels. You haven’t crossed the line into conversation, but you've come close. You’re curious.

Shuri caught you looking once. She didn’t tease. She just said, “You should probably say something before she catches you checking her out while alphabetising.”

You still haven’t.

…

It’s another Saturday. The weather is a little colder. Still temperamental between the shift from Spring to Summer.

Shuri isn’t working. She texted earlier - family stuff. Earlier this year you found out that they’re not happy Shuri has decide to pursue engineering instead of following her brother’s footsteps into the legal world. Her brother sticks up for her but their mother still disproves.

You’ve got the shift with Mrs. Harkness, who’s perched at the front desk wearing a fitted purple blazer, hair wild, and her signature dark lipstick.

You pause when you see her outfit.

“You’ve got plans?” You ask.

“Date at two.” She says, adjusting her glasses. “Rio’s back.”

From what little you knew about the woman, she was the only lesbian in town. Her girlfriend - well on and off girlfriend - is Rio Vidal, who you were pretty sure was married to a man a few years ago. She was in the miliatry and was always stationed overseas. She was not much younger than Mrs Harkness, but she radiated very childish energy whenever you saw her. Her and Mrs Harkness constantly argued, and no one ever knew if it waa serious or not.

Clearly not if they're still together.

“Still going strong?”

She shrugs, ruffling her hair out once more. “Not really. But the sex is amazing.”

With that, you leave her to her own devices – it only takes one person to work the counter anyways – head toward the back shelves. The library is slow today. Midday sun filters through the front windows. You’re in the aisle near the romance section, moving slowly through a restock.

Then you hear the familiar sound of the front doors opening.

You glance up. She’s here. Alone again.

You turn back to your cart, pretending not to notice, but your focus is gone. You restack a few books that don’t actually need restacking. As you reach to put one on the shelf, it slips from your hand and drops to the floor with a solid thump.

You stoop to grab it, but a voice beats you to it.

“So…” she says, calm and deliberate, “are you finally going to come talk to me, or should I drop one too?”

You freeze, slowly straighten up, and look at her.

She’s standing a few feet away, arms folded loosely, watching you.

You try to say something coherent. “I didn’t mean to – I wasn’t – uh – “

She gestures toward the reading nook near the back window. “Come on.”

You follow.

She takes the seat near the window, legs crossed. You sit across from her, still trying to decide how to play this. You couldn't gage if she was bad or upset with you.

“I’ve noticed you.”

You look up. “Uh?”

“You hover. Rearranging books that are already in alphabetical order.”

You give a small nod. “That obvious?”

She shrugs. “A little. But not in a bad way.”

She leans back, then introduces herself. “I’m Wanda.”

You give her your name in return.

That seems to be enough to start.

She asks about your job. How long you’ve been here. Then your studies. You explain that you’re in your second year of law school. She doesn’t seem surprised. She asks what kind of law interests you. You say civil rights, maybe criminal defense. She listens, asks a few practical questions, none that raise your suspicions, doesn’t offer advice unless prompted.

She doesn’t offer much about herself, only that she works downtown. Her job keeps her busy. A few notes about her school days, and that, she used to come here with someone, but that changed. She leaves it there, and you don’t push.

It’s a calm conversation. No pressure. She speaks with the sort of confidence that doesn’t need to announce itself. You’re still surprised you’re sitting here at all.

Then her phone buzzes.

Wanda glances down, then stands. “I have to head back.”

“Back where?” You ask.

She adjusts her bag. “The office.”

You frown slightly. “You work weekends?”

She nods. “Work doesn’t really stop when you’re a lawyer.”

That catches your attention. “You’re a lawyer?”

“Mhmm.” She gives a small smile. “Didn’t expect that?”

“Not really.”

“I don’t usually advertise it.” She laughs, glancing around the library. “But yeah. I’ve been practicing a few years now.”

You nod slowly.

“Well,” she says, stepping back, “it was nice to finally meet you, little librarian.”

And with that, she turns and walks out.

You remain where you are for a moment.

It’s not exactly a conversation you expected to have today. But it happened.

Next week, you’ll probably still be behind the romance shelves.

You hope not just watching.

…

Next Tuesday, you arrive at T’Challa’s new house just after 8 p.m. The place is sleek – glass and concrete, warm lighting through tall windows, filled with quiet music and well-dressed people holding glasses of wine. You feel a bit out of place in your kitten heels and messily-ironed silk dress, but Shuri gives you an approving nod when she sees you.

She’s holding two drinks when she meets you at the door. “Good. You made it.”

You smile faintly. “Yes. Unfortunately a car didn't run me over on the way as I so wished for.”

She ignores your annoying sarcasm. “Well, this is how you build your future,” she says, handing you one of the glasses. “You meet people. You show up. You don’t jump into oncoming traffic.”

You follow her through the house. The crowd is mostly professionals – people who talk fast and laugh quietly. You recognise two professors from your legal ethics class. Mr Killard and Mrs Bernard. Strict professors. You try to avoid eye contact.

Shuri weaves through a group near the kitchen, waving at her brother.

T’Challa sees you both and steps away from his conversation. “Ah! You must be the infamous law student friend of my sisters, who’s apparently always got her head in a book.”

You shake his hand, trying not to sound nervous. “Yes, ha! Thanks for having me.”

“I’ve read your paper on civil reform through municipal courts.” Your hand is still holding his. “Shuri forwarded it to me. You’ve got a sharp mind.”

You blink. “She did what?”

Shuri sips her drink, smug.

T’Challa laughs. “Don’t worry. I trust my sister. She’s a good judge of talent. You’re welcome here anytime.”

Before you can respond, a voice calls out from the entryway.

“T’Challa!” It’s a woman – familiar, confident tone, sharp heels clicking on hardwood. You turn and watch as two women approach from the hallway. One is a lean redhead in a tailored black suit. Hugging all curves as well as exaggerating the bulge of her built muscles. The other—

You freeze.

It’s Wanda.

She’s in a dark grey dress, elegant but simple, her long hair usually flowing in waves over her shoulders is now sleeked back into a ponytail and her messy bangs now parted in the middle where they sit unshaken. She looks nothing like she does at the library – all sharp and rough angles – and yet she’s unmistakable. Your heart lurches unexpectedly.

She’s smiling at T’Challa, standing beside the redhead as they greet him affectionately.

He turns down the hallway, back to where the rest of the party remain. “Ah! Everyone – meet the newest senior partners at the firm. Mrs Natasha and Wanda Maximoff. As of this week, they’re officially ours!”

The announcement draws claps and scattered murmurs of approval. Wanda and Natasha both nod politely to the room. Wanda smiling more brightly than the redhead. Her hand rests lightly on the small of Wanda’s back.

Wait. Mrs? They’re married?

Shuri leans in. “That’s her, isn’t it?”

You’re still staring.

“I knew it! She says, eyes wide, louder than you’d like. “She’s the library girl.”

“Her name’s Wanda.” You mumble.

“Okay… Wanda. She’s a partner now? Damn. She must be good.”

You nod faintly.

You hadn’t expected to see her here. Definitely not like this.

Standing in a room full of high-profile legal professionals…

Introduced as a senior partner…

With someone on her arm…

It almost hurts how attractive Natasha is. Of course Wanda would be with someone like her.

Shuri nudges you. “Go talk to her.”

You shake your head. “She’s… with Natasha. They’re married.”

“How do you know? They could be sisters…? And you know what they say, ‘don’t let your wife stop you from meeting your girlfriend.’”

You glance again, ignoring Shuri altogether. The way Natasha’s hand lingers. The way Wanda leans into her slightly. The way they exchange a look when someone jokes about work-life balance. You don’t know for sure. But it’s enough to make you stay where you are.

They’re definitely not sisters.

They’re definitely together.

You keep your distance the rest of the night. Wanda never spots you – you hope. You watch her from across the room for a few minutes, then slip out early, telling Shuri you’re tired, and to thank her brother once more for the invite.

She doesn’t stop you.

…

Another week or so passes. The rhythm of lectures, late-night reading, and outlining arguments continues. Your calendar is full, your inbox overflows with reminders and reading lists, and the only place that still feels manageable is the library. Your father and sister have been trying to facetime you for the past week or maybe longer, and each time, you’ve been busy catching up on sleep or working.

And you've not had much time to think about the blonde woman, about Wanda. Any and all thoughts lead you back to that night at T’Challa’s. The hand around her waist. The dazzling wedding bands you managed to miss initially – you’d argue due to shock – around their fingers.

Back at the library, the romance section looks the same. The shelves are still in perfect order. The same sunlight pours through the largewindows.

Although, something feels different.

Shuri doesn’t work today. You’re alone at the front desk, catching up on reading. Around 11:15, you hear the front door open.

You don’t have to look. You already know it’s her.

She moves with the same quiet ease, dressed casually in jeans and a long coat.

You don’t approach. You don’t acknowledge her. You don’t shelve books near her like you usually would. You stay at your post and keep your head down.

She makes her way through the library like always, stopping in the romance aisle, waiting for your arrival.

After a few minutes of waiting, she walks toward the front, pausing a few feet from the desk.

You glance up.

She meets your eyes. “Hi.”

You nod once. “Hey.”

She tilts her head. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” You say, quieter than intended.

She waits, like she’s deciding whether or not to say something else.

Then: “I didn’t expect to see you at the party.”

You blink.

So she had noticed you…

“Uh yeah, I didn’t expect to see you there either.”

“How do you know T’Challa?” She asks curiously.

“I’m a family friend.” You answer without hesitation.

Wanda’s expression doesn’t shift much. But she seems to register the tension.

There’s a short pause. She starts to say something, then changes her mind. “Well… I’ll be around.”

You nod again. “Have a good morning, Mrs Maximoff.”

She gives you a faint smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Then walks off toward the far side of the library, leaving her usual seat empty. Leaving the safety of the romance section.

You’re not sure what you feel. Just that something that felt simple now feels complicated. And you’re not ready to step back into it yet.

…

Saturday rolls around again. Another week of avoiding your family’s calls, of avoiding Shuri pulling you into another of her brother’s event. The next even more extravagant than the last. You vowed you wouldn’t be going into any more situations where Wanda and her wife would be.

But, of course, you manage to forget about the library.

Your job.

Where you can’t avoid her.

It’s mid-morning. You’re seated behind the desk once again, half-reading another case file you don’t have to finish until Monday, when the door creaks open.

You look up out of habit.

Wanda walks in – alone again.

She hesitates this time. Not much. But enough that you notice it.

Her eyes scan the room. She spots you. Pauses.

And then she walks toward you – directly, slower than usual. More cautious. Like she’s not sure if she’s welcome.

You close your book quietly.

“Hi.” You beat her to it this time.

“Hey.” She stays standing a few feet from the counter, hand loosely twirling her hair. “I wasn’t sure if I should come today.”

You meet her eyes. “Why not?”

“You seemed… done with me. Last time.”

You shake your head, exhaling through your nose. “I wasn’t done. Just... thinking.”

She gives a small nod, accepting that. Her gaze lingers on you, searching for a signal. Anything.

You give her one.

“You want to sit?” You ask, nodding towards the back reading nook.

Relief moves through her, quiet and clear.

“Yeah.” She says. “I’d like that.”

…

“You ever get tired of this place?” She asks, gesturing faintly around the room. The nook of course empty except for you both, occupying each side.

“Sometimes.” You admit. “But it’s predictable. And easy for now. I like that.”

She tilts her head. “You don’t strike me as someone who likes predictable.”

You smirk faintly. “Oh? What gave you that idea?”

“The fact that you’ve been giving me this look for two months and only talked to me after I practically backed you into a corner.”

You try to look unbothered, but she’s not wrong.

“You were intimidating.”

“I was reading Persuasion in sweatpants…”

You shrug. “Still counts. You’re like 6 foot tall. And really pretty.”

That earns a soft laugh. Her eyes linger on you a little longer than necessary.

Blushing, you change the subject. “So… what made you finally pick law?”

She stumbles uncharacteristically, not expecting your question. “I – uh – what?

You chuckle at her. “Why’d you switch from psychology?”

Wanda blinks. You weren’t supposed to know that.

“You mentioned it.” You remind her. “Our first conversation. The one thing you had actually told me about yourself.”

“Oh. Right.” She rests her elbow on the armrest. “Well, I loved psychology. Still do. But at some point I realised I didn’t want to study behavior. Instead, I wanted to change the systems that shape it.”

You nod, quietly impressed. “That sounds like a very Wanda Maximoff answer.”

She gives you a curious look. “You say my full name like you’ve repeated it in your head a few times.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you say mine like it’s a secret.”

She laughs, fully now, hands up in surrender. “Okay. Truce. No more calling each other out for the rest of the conversation.”

“Deal.”

You both settle into a steady rhythm. The conversation turns lighter. Books, favourite cities, law school horror stories. Wanda tells you about her first deposition and how she accidentally said ‘we object’ instead of just ‘objection’ because she got flustered by the opposing counsel’s cologne.

You don’t realise how long you’ve been talking until the light in the windows starts to shift. No one else has seemed to step in the library. If they did, neither of you noticed.

At one point, you shift slightly in your seat and she watches you with a subtle smile, eyes following the motion. She’s leaning in more now. Not physically – but her energy is tilted toward you again.

Familiar. Intentional.

“Do you do this with all the women in the romance aisle?” She asks casually, folding one leg under the other.

You raise an eyebrow. “What? Talk to them?”

“Sit with them. Ask about their careers. Quote Austen to them when you think they’re not listening.”

Your mouth curves. “Only the ones who hover too long on Brontë.”

“Mm. Dangerous category.”

“You think?”

She leans forward a little, voice quieter now. “You tell me, little librarian.”

The silence after that isn’t awkward. It’s quiet. Interesting.

Wanda glances toward the desk, her phone lighting up at the exact moment, then back to you. “How long until your shift ends?”

You check your watch. “About twenty minutes. I’m closing today.”

“I can wait.” She says.

“For what?” You tilt your head subtly.

Wanda finds it adorable.

“Let's go for a walk near the park across the street.”

And twenty minutes later, you’re walking out the building. She holds the door open without saying anything, and you step through, turning to lock up.

The air outside is cooler than expected. It smells faintly like pavement and fresh rain.

When did it rain?

“You ready?” She asks.

You nod, before heading across the road towards the park entrance.

…

You walk side by side down the edge of the pavement, neither of you in a rush. The streets are quiet. Just a few parked cars and the occasional distant bark of a dog within the park.

Wanda tells you she grew up near a forest, which you somehow believe immediately. She says her family moved around a lot when she was younger, and that she didn’t really know stability until law school forced her to stay in one place. You can tell she is speaking much more freely with you now. No longer guarding her replies. A foreign accent slipping between the lines of her words.

At one point, she glances at you from the corner of her eye. “You always think this much?”

You give a half-smile. “You always talk like you already know what I’m thinking?”

“No,” she says, “but I’m usually close.”

That gets a small laugh out of you. Then the conversation shifts.

You don’t plan to ask. The words just arrive.

“So… how are you finding it? Being a partner now?”

She looks ahead, hands tucked into her coat pockets.

“It’s good. Busy.”

“That’s it?”

Wanda exhales slowly. “It’s a lot of pressure. I mean, being a lawyer is always pressure, but there’s a different kind of expectation when your name’s next to the firm title. There’s less room to mess up. Less room to breathe, sometimes.”

You nod. “I imagine it’s intense. Especially with someone like T’Challa.”

“He’s fair.” She says. “Smart. Trusts his team.”

“Still. That’s a big adjustment.”

“It is.”

She doesn’t mention Natasha.

You don’t ask.

The name hovers there – unspoken but present.

Neither of you go near it.

You keep walking, turning down a quieter street shaded by rows of trees. A few brown leaves scatter across the sidewalk. The silence between you now feels heavier. Not awkward still – just fuller. Like there’s something there neither of you wants to admit you’re walking toward.

Eventually, Wanda slows, and you both come to a stop at a quiet corner. There’s no one around. No traffic. Just the wind nudging branches overhead.

She turns toward you, one hand still in her coat pocket, the other brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her expression is softer now, more private.

“You know,” she says quietly, “this has been the best part of my week.”

You feel it in your chest before you can respond. A quiet, nervous twist. “Yeah,” you murmur, “mine too.”

You’re both standing a little too close now.

Close enough that if either of you moved even an inch forward…

Wanda shifts her weight slightly. Her voice drops, nearly a whisper. “I’ve been thinking about you more than I should.”

You swallow. “Wanda –”

Her hand brushes lightly against your sleeve. Her gaze flickers down to your mouth, just for a second, then back to your eyes. You feel everything tighten – lungs, throat, heartbeat.

The space between you thins to nothing.

She leans in, just enough that you can feel her breath on your skin.

Then you say it.

“Wanda,” you breathe. “You have a wife.”

The words land like a thread snapping in the air.

Wanda stops. Pulls back – not harshly, but all at once.

Her eyes flicker, just for a moment, like she wasn’t expecting you to say it out loud. Like she wanted to believe that, if you didn’t say it, maybe it wasn’t true here. Not in this moment. Not outside this library, not on this quiet street.

She looks away.

“I know.” She says. Quiet. Measured. Not defensive.

Neither of you moves.

The silence is different now.

You step back half a pace – not because you’re afraid of her, but because you need the room.

She straightens slightly. Clears her throat. “It’s complicated.”

You nod once, “But still. I’m not going to be the other woman.”

She lingers another second, another flinch. Then walks close once more, coat catching the breeze. “It’s – it’s not like that.”

She looks so unravelled, so unlike her.

“It’s not like that.” She repeats quietly. “What we have – it’s complicated, but it’s not what you think.”

You hesitate, still caught in the weight of her words.

What does she even mean?

How could it be complicated?

Wanda takes a slow breath. “Look… if you want, come by our place sometime. Meet Natasha. See for yourself.”

You blink, caught off guard. That was not what you was expecting her to say.

She gives a small, hopeful smile. “No pressure. Just… maybe it’ll help clear things up.”

You nod slowly, unsure what to say.

With that, she passes you her phone, and asks you to put your number in. “I’ll text you later. We’ll set up something, okay?”

Once that’s done, she steps back, offering a last, quiet smile before bidding you goodbye, and turning down the street.

You watch her go, your mind racing.

What have you got yourself into?

[exitingmusic]

▬▬ι════════════════════════════════════ι▬▬

Maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you were too insecure to date a man as pretty and popular as Satoru Gojo.

He did nothing wrong of course, never passing up on a moment to praise you or show you off. It was the other people that just made you tick.

Sometimes they'd look surprised when he introduced you, laughing it off and giving some excuse, oh I wasn't expecting this to be your girlfriend. Sometimes they'd be downright rude, insulting you directly in front of you or talking behind your back. Sometimes they'd look confused, like they didn't know how Satoru Gojo could fall for someone as normal as you.

To be honest, you couldn't blame them.

You didn't know why he wasted time on you either. You didn't know how he could be so caring and affectionate and not expect anything from you in return. He'd pay for your dates, hell, sometimes even before you'd come in, he'd hand his card to the waiter. He drops off gifts at random times, for nothing special, just saying he wanted to spoil you. In public he always had an arm around you or a hand on your back. He never looked at other women, he defended you, he always stuck with you.

When you did see his eyes, he looked at you like you hung the very stars in the sky. He looked at you like you were everything.

He brought you to meetings, to gatherings, anywhere and everywhere. And sometimes when the host would sneer at you, refusing to give you even a chair, he'd simply get up, set you down, and ask for a chair himself, "You didn't get the strongest a chair?"

It didn't matter if you were with his friends, his students, or his superiors, he always made sure you were the first priority, interrupting any snobby sorcerers to ask if you needed anything loudly.

You didn't understand what you did to deserve this. Of course you were grateful, but you felt like your gestures were too small for his tastes.

Sure you did small things. You cleaned up around the house, picked fresh flowers to put in vases, cleaned his fancy clothes and washed his blindfolds. Sometimes you'd get him gifts too. Some were hand made, like drawings or the lego flowers you got him. Others were bought, like the rack for his sunglasses or funny shirts you found online or his favorite album on record.

Whenever he got them, he looked too happy for it to be fake. He listened to that record over and over, not because he liked the songs, but because you gave it to him. He used the sunglasses rack, knowing he always lost his pair, but also because you gave him it. He wore and laughed at the funny shirts, wearing them to sleep or around the house or out, because you gave them to him. Any art you made, framed and displayed around every corner of the house, no matter how much you disliked the piece.

He loved how he could come home to you after a long day or mission and just melt in your arms. No one was watching either of you there.

Satoru Gojo didn't have to act like the strongest with you.

He could be Satoru Gojo. He could be just a man so in love with you that he couldn't even think. He could be someone you held with such tenderness that he nearly cried each time.

And when one time you asked him if you were worth all it, all the time and money and love spent, he nearly fell to his knees.

How could you, his goddess, his one believe he was above you, that you weren't worth him?

It didn't matter where he was, as long as you were with him.

In another life, he was on stage, crowds staring up at him with adoring eyes. But his eyes were on you, front row, giving you a look of love he couldn't share to anyone else, or at fan meetings where he refused to let them touch him, only you got to do that.

In another life, he couldn't act the loving, tender roles without staring at you, off set. He couldn't give such soft gestures to anyone but you. He always made sure to have you next to him in interviews, to make sure you got as much attention as he did.

In another life, he got into his car, but not before blowing you a kiss from the paddock. He made sure you had all the passes, just to get you close to him whenever he went into that metal death trap of a car.

In another life, everything he painted was reminiscent of you. Maybe it'd be themed only using the shades of your eye color, maybe it'd be a portrait of you, maybe it'd be a private piece for himself. All he knew was you were his muse.

He made it his personal mission to make you see reason. Wherever you went, he was already there, attached to your side. Whenever you glanced too long at something while shopping, you found it on your doorstep the next day. Whenever someone tried to insult you, he just snapped at them and spun on his heel, already planning to make life miserable for them.

He made sure you didn't have to share him with anybody. He made sure he was worth it all, just for you.

▬▬ι════════════════════════════════════ι▬▬

[undreaming-fanfiction]

What if Steve is a famous model and Eddie is a rockstar, both still pretty down to earth that they move around without bodyguards...

They bump into each other at a corner, and literally bump into each other - Steve somehow lost his contact lenses and he's half-blind without them, his agent Robin is traveling, he'd rather lose both of his eyes than to call his parents, and so he's trying to get to a pharmacy/optometrist/somewhere else just based on memory and touch.

Eddie is walking, not paying much attention and listening to music, when he's knocked back by a very apologetic squinting guy who might as well be very pretty, if he looked straight at Eddie - which is very much not possible, as Steve later explains, Eddie is a very blurry blob to him, although a very kind blob. Also a really nice sounding blob.

When Eddie collects his things and his heart off the streetwalk, he offers to walk Steve to the pharmacy. After asking if it's okay, he offers Steve his arm and leads him carefully to his destination. Steve is still mostly staring at the ground, trying to fight blurry nausea, so Eddie doesn't really know what he looks like, except that his hair is magnificent.

They reach the pharmacy, Steve is so thankful that he wants to invite Eddie for coffee, but before he can do that, Eddie receives an urgent call from his agent and needs to leave.

They both - not without a tinge sadness - think they won't see each other again.

Except the next day there's a wave of tabloid headlines: "CORRODED COFFIN'S EDDIE MUNSON FINALLY SETTLES DOWN?! THE ROCKSTAR SEEN WITH REDKEN'S MODEL STEVE HARRINGTON!" and there are pictures of Steve and Eddie, side by side, and it really looks like a romantic walk rather than what it was.

When Eddie's agent Chrissy calls, half-amused, half-concerned, Eddie stops her with a single sentence: "Can you get me his number?!"

Chrissy snorts in the phone. "Give me an hour."

It takes her 33 minutes in total, and she secures a date with Robin for herself as a bonus.

And as for Eddie? He opens his message with "Hey Steve, how come you never told me it was a date? I would have brought flowers!" and gets an immediate response of "You would have, huh? Then bring some today at seven, the pizzeria next to the pharmacy. I like sunflowers. See you there, Eddie. And this time, I mean really see you."

The "see you" jokes stay with them for the rest of their lives.

[c0ffeejelly1]

No Nut November

Multiple character headcannons

Authors note: this is the only November post y’all r getting so hahahahahhaahah. I rushed this just today so say thank you. Bye bye. (POST-TIMESKIP!!)

Warning: kinda suggestive but like y’all don’t do anything.

“You know what time of month it is, right baby?”

You asked your boyfriend, all while adjusting your makeup in mirror a cheeky smile on your face taking a quick glance at him sitting down on your bed watching you intensely.

“…it’s not our anniversary, is it?” He asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.

“What? No, I’m talking about it being November…y’know? No Nut November?”

He visibly shifts in his seat. He knew what you were going to ask him.

“you think you can last the month? Im willing to bet on it.”

The type to not even last a day

“Man that’s light work! I could easily last a month if I wanted to—"

He failed.

“Okay but it’s not my fault. Y-you decided to wear that out, not me!”

“You say it like I purposely did it to make you lose..”

“Because you did!”

He’s not accepting the fact that he lost on the day you challenged him.

Do you know how embarrassing that is?

Imagine how badly he’s gonna get teased by all his mates if they ever find out he couldn’t help but bust one on you!

“You better keep this between just us..”

Should he really be saying that when he’s the one who started tearing off your clothes and tossing them aside?

Should he really be saying that when he’s the one who pleaded for just a few minutes to enjoy you?

Should he really be saying that when—

“Why’re you looking at me like that!”

You were looking at him like he was an idiot. You really couldn’t believe what he was saying.

Was it really that bad he didn’t last that long?

I mean it’s sort of flattering to you, seeing that your boyfriend could get so turned on from just you wearing a nice outfit.

“Because you just sound stupid why can’t you admit you lost and call it a day?” You huff.

“Because it doesn’t count!”

He pouts, crossing his arms in annoyance, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as he turns away from you on the bed where you both lay bare, slick with each other’s essences from your prior…activities.

“And it’s stupid. This whole no nut November nonsense is stupid! I mean who would even come up with that kind of torture? why would someone want to restrict themselves from such a bliss that-"

You spend the rest of that evening listening to the poor guy complaining about how November is a stupid month.

Characters: REIGEN, Tenegn, Eren, Reiner, Hinata, Oikawa, BOKUTO, MAMMON, Leviathan, ASMODEUS, ITTO, kaeya, RAFAYEL (any character you like)

The type to last a week

“You sure you wanna bet on that? Y’know before we started dating I wasn’t the kind of guy who needed Intimacy in their life…"

He totally regrets saying those things because now they’re just gnawing at him.

This is all your fault, you hear him?

You- you did something to him okay?

Never in his life has he felt so…so…

Vulnerable?

Jesus, this was suppose to be a walk in the park so why do you suddenly look so...sexy?

You were just watching TV, but the way you curled up on the couch made your thighs press together in a way that was hard to ignore.

And that shirt of yours?

It was barely hanging on your shoulder, giving him a peek at your bra strap, while your hand rested on your stomach, revealing just enough skin.

Damn, even the way you bit your lips without realizing it was driving him wild—he couldn’t handle a whole month of this!

He was so caught up in you that he didn’t even notice how his body was inching closer.

It wasn’t until you turned to him, your noses almost touching, that he realized it.

Did you eyes always look so beautiful?

And your lips…they never looked this soft before.

“..you’re so gorgeous baby, is this some kind of punishment?..”

He gently cups your cheek, his lips almost brushing against yours when suddenly—

“What are you doing?”

This snaps him out of his trance before a deep blush spread across his face.

“I-I..I dunno? You just- well I thought…”

Yeah he sure as hell was thinking.

Thinking of all the ways he could have you!

He lets out a small whine, his brows knitting together in frustration.

“Can we just…not do this challenge anymore…please?”

I mean if he’s talking to you like that, who are you to say no?

Besides you could always just…edge him a lil right?

Characters: REIGEN (again), SERIZAWA, Rengoku, Armin, Jean, BOKUTO (again), CHOSO, Beelzebub, DIAVOLO, ITTO (again), Thoma, LAIOS (any character you like)

The type to barely last the whole month

“Why would you want to do that? We both know you’re not gonna make it."

“Well the challenge is for you! Not me!”

“...but my point still stands.”

His point sure as hell did stand and it hurt you to admit that he was right!

Already 17 days in and he hadn’t budged an inch.

How was this man still going??

You even tried to sabotage him, sitting on his lap only for him to laugh and gently push you off.

Kissing up his neck with your arms around his waist while he made dinner only for him to ask you to grab some spices.

Even you making crude dirty jokes, only for him to blush slightly and brush you off!

This was just getting ridiculous and now you were looking like the needy one!

“For someone who wanted me to take on this challenge, it seems like you’re the one feeling it the most.”

You shoot him a glare.

You were annoyed he was right.

Annoyed that he could still tease you, fully damn aware of what you wanted!

“You can hold out for another 13 days can’t you, sweetheart? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

What you didn’t realize was that these last few days were weighing on your boyfriend too.

He was doing a great job of hiding it when you were around, but when he was alone—

“Shit…”

He slammed his fist against the bathroom wall at work a growing tightness forming in his pants.

You just loved to tease, didn’t you?

Couldn’t you see this was driving him crazy too?

And to think you could send him such…things while he’s at work!

“Damn this…”

He was going to get his revenge; mark his words. Once this month wraps up, he was going to have his way with you.

And so he did yippee!! 😈

Characters: Giyuu, Kageyama, TSUKISHIMA, kuroo, IWAIZUMI, Akaashi, Ushijima, SUNA, Osamu, Geto, NANAMI, Lucifer, Satan, SOLOMON, Ayato, DILUC, Neuvillette, Writhoesley, ZHONGLI, Sylus, Zayne (any character you like)

The type to say they lasted the whole month (he jerked off)

“Babe come on, we both know I have some self restraint when it comes to you.”

“Do we?”

He shoots you a sharp look.

“Yes. We do. And I find it quite offensive you don’t believe I can last a simple 30 days without sex-"

You had to break it to him he couldn’t touch himself.

“I-I can’t?!”

Sure it was a lil surprising to him to hear that he couldn’t flick his tip and buss one little nut, but hey!

That wasn’t going to stop him!

I mean how would you ever find out he touched himself if you weren’t there, huh?

Simple as that!

“You’re...strangely happy today...something good happen?”

A few days had gone by since the challenge started, and November was finally winding down, which felt like a relief after those tough days.

The main reason for the struggle was your boyfriend’s constant whining about how his “body craved some kind of touch—anything!”

Now all of a sudden he’s happy days and roses.

You were suspicious.

“Who wouldn’t be? 30 days of war are finally over! Told you I could last.”

You give him a weird look.

It was almost too obvious that he had done something. That smirk was unmistakable—the same one he wore when he knew he’d crossed a line!

The same one he flashed when he’s trying to keep his secrets under wraps!

“You failed didn’t you.”

“W-what! Where’d ya get that idea?”

He finally admits to you after a while of back and forth he failed a few days after the night you challenged him.

At least he lasted a week in?

Characters: Dimple, Sanemi, TENGEN, Connie, Nishinoya, Ukai, Tendou, ATSUMU, GOJO, Toji, MAMMON (again), Belphagor, CHILDE, kaeya (again), CHILCHUCK, Rafayel (again) (any character you like)

[fishnapple]

What to embrace more within you

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

Clear quartz 

Losing control is not something you are willing to face and accept. Circumstances might lead you into unknown paths that you have no control over. But you tend to resist them with all your will. You want what is graspable, what you can understand, and can hold in your hands firmly. You avoid uncertainty and ephemeral existences, because they signal an inevitable ending.

You're protective of what is dear to you. You're willing to go hundreds of miles for those you love, but with a price. They should safely stay in the nest you build for them. You may not realise that you want everything, everyone in your life to stay in one place, predictable. You care a lot, your love is large. That is something you need to always treasure within you. But there is a childlike spirit within you who longs for adventures, to just let go of the burden of keeping everything in control. The more you learn to let go of your grip, the more wind you let in to push you forward. You can still care for others, but instead of keeping them behind safe fences, you can help each other to go out into the world, safely, with support. Life knows how to take you to where you need, you have the ticket, you just need to step on the train.

Carnelian 

You have an image to keep, a reputation to uphold, a ground to protect. All of these keep you in a narrow path without much branching, no getting sidetracked, no exploration. Sometimes, you're your own worst critic. You shut down any grand ideas that you have immediately, for fear that they would make you yearning for more, for a more free existence. 

You have a lot to take care of, lots of responsibilities that stoop your shoulders down, keep you legs dragging heavily. You want to run but you're afraid of being lost, of running over the edge with no one to catch you. You have many wonderful ideas in your head that you don't share with anybody. Prefer to keep them stay silently inside. Ideas that would fulfil you more.

What you need to embrace is your vision, no matter how outlandish, how crazy you think it is. You're so used to normality. Let some bizarre thoughts have their space inside you. Don't shame yourself, don't limit yourself. The more you embrace strangeness and unpredictability, the easier it is to make a decision, to go on a different path. Embrace them with nonchalance, if fear creeps in, greet it but don't let it become the master of your inner house.

Sodalite

The message is about embracing your "voice", both your speaking voice and the voice you hear in your head. You have a very intuitive heart that can often show you the way, if only you just listened to it. You might disregard it as wishful thinking, delusional fantasy or irrational fears that try to sway you from what you want to do, or to mislead you into the path of failure. You don't trust this voice enough, so when you have a brilliant idea in your mind, you're your own worst skeptic, you swallow back the ideas, refuse to let them see the light. This can be interpreted by another person as a taciturn nature of yours. 

Speaking loudly might make you uncomfortable. Maybe you tend to stop mid-sentence or take too long to speak your opinion. You might feel that others don't let you speak, they all seem much more confident and assertive than you're. But that's just your perception. In fact, if you're able to get over the barriers of your mind, when you're able to speak freely, you have the ability to captivate people with your words, your voice. There's a force within that when used right, can completely change people's perception of you for the better. Look for merry interactions, where you can laugh freely, talk and exchange ideas without fear nor shame. Get yourself used to the company of people, but not just as a passive listener but an active contributor of the conversation. Slowly, you will find your voice much more lovely, much deserved to be listened to.

Aventurine

I see a lot of movements but also obstacles in the crystals, as if movements are being stifled. The restlessness inside you need an outlet. It's not something you should feel shameful about, not something you need to control with iron fists. Your life seems to be rooted in one place, one routine for quite some time, day after day, nothing much happens that can stir the stillness of it. You don't want to disturb the peace, in a way, you feel content with your current situation, even though there might be some hardships here and there, but overall, you feel safe in it. Yet, you instinctively know that, your life can't go on like that forever. You want to change, to break free of the mould, to walk the many paths that are available to you. You can see far ahead, but your feet are still reluctant to move. 

Embrace your desire to change, to travel and experience life. If you feel restless, bored without knowing why, maybe consider changing something, going away for a while, or even changing your living space. I see a wanderer beneath the seemingly stable surface. Drastic changes might momentarily scare you, but they're also very alluring. Heed their calls sometimes and you will find your fortune turns. 

Strawberry quartz 

There are some habits of yours that you might want to reexamine their usefulness. Your energy feels a little timid, pliable to others will. Not that it's something bad that you need to change, but consider how much you take in other people's ideas and feelings, assimilating them into yourself. Sometimes, you need to separate the influence of others from your core self. Question what's really true, what's really valuable to you.

The message is you should embrace more of your inner rebel. You might readily accept an idea, an opinion or a viewpoint without questioning it too much. You don't want to stir the water of any connections that you have. Showing disapproval, opposite ideas or being aggressive is not welcomed by others, or so you believe. But the truth is, the more you go against the grain, the more spontaneous and random you act, the more connected you are to yourself and to other people, that's your charm. People always admire those who know their own minds, those who dare to go after their visions. If you don't feel too confident with your mental power and think that you never learn and know enough to express yourself in conversations, know that's not true. You have something valuable to bring to the table, that's your unique view of the world.

Amethyst

This might sound weird but you should embrace your more selfish desires sometimes. I see a lot of burdens on your shoulders, almost like you're living for everyone else but you. Your every action is done with consideration for others, you think about the impact, the consequences of your actions greatly, sometimes, to the point of being paralysed and passive. You don't want to hurt others, you don't want to feel like a burden to others, yet you're so willing to shoulder others' burdens. Your charitable spirit is your gift, but also your curse. You hardly have the time for yourself. 

You need to embrace the child within you, the one who needs abundance of care and joy. It's okay to voice your needs and wants, to set aside responsibilities for a while so that you can spoil the part within you that is so in need of love and fun. This also influences your love life. Love can be too heavy, too intense in your eyes, you feel like you always need to do something, to "save" the connection from going downhill. This attitude sucks out the lighthearted fun of love. The child within you craves for a simple love, to feel love with their all and not to have constant anxiety and duties lingering on their heart.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[7:58 pm]

(cw: f!reader)

"You're making me nervous," you murmur as fall into step beside your boyfriend.

Fratboy!Mark spent a whole two hours biting his nails and shifting nervously on your bed as you got ready. Every two minutes he was up and pacing around the small area of your dorm room. He hasn't told you he's apprehensive, but it's obvious.

You two have been dating for just over a year now. You two had gotten together the summer before your last year of high school and here you both were, still together while in university. You two have spent so much time together, have absorbed each other's mannerisms that now you're just two sides of the same coin.

"Huh?" Mark asks as he pinches his bottom lip between his fingers, "what have I said, babe?"

"You haven't said anything. It's what you're doing. You're like radiating your anxiety onto me. I thought you said they were cool, Markie," you pout as you squeeze his hand.

"They are," he stresses, "but they're a lot."

"If you can handle them, then I can handle them," you reassure as you peck his cheek.

Mark had been waiting for this moment since he'd passively mentioned to his new frat brothers that he had a girlfriend. They'd all been pretty cool about it, asking Mark about you, asking when they were going to meet you, so he finally gave in. They were cool guys, sure, but you were his girlfriend, he didn't want his new group of friends to reflect poorly on him.

Mark felt like he was going to be sick as he watched you introduce yourself to the guys. They all seemed to be on their best behavior and the frat house seemed to be tidy and organized for the first time.

He felt you squeeze his hand. He hummed, wide eyes finding your own look of concern, "are you going to come out back with us to the fire pit?"

"Yes, of course, babe," Mark nodded, following behind you and the guys closely.

He couldn't help how his nerves radiated off him, even now that you were already here. You were talking to the guys, listening, laughing, making conversation like you were a long lost friend among them.

You leaned into Mark as you laughed at something one of the guys said. "You have to come over more. I want more embarrassing Mark stories," Jaehyun laughed.

It was then that Mark seemed to tune in. The anxious buzz in his mind calmed down as furrowed his brows, "you've been telling them embarrassing stories?"

"Yeah, in exchange for embarrassing stories of you while you were pledging. Does a talent show rendition of Drake dressed as Mickey Mouse ring a bell?" You tease with a giggle.

"I have a video!" Johnny exclaims with a laugh, "I'll send it to you!"

"How are you going to send it to her?" Mark asks as he cocks his head to the side.

"We exchanged social medias like five minutes ago and I'm ten followers richer now," you smile happily.

Yuta nods as he scrolls, "awww, look! It's Markie at prom!" He holds out his phone for the rest of the group to see. They all hoot and holler, leaning in to get a good look at the screen,

Yuta looks at the screen with a decisive nod, "you guys are a good looking couple. Obviously, you're punching though, Mark."

"Obviously," you agree with a nod, accepting a handful of snacks from Johnny who is sitting beside you. Johnny who has never shared his snacks without Mark asking and you didn't even have to ask.

He's starting to think he didn't have any reason to be nervous at all... yeah, this whole college experience will be great with you and his new frat brothers at his side.

[aureliawhispers]

WAS I JUST A FOOL?

In which you haunt the narrative.

cw | female! reader, reader's dead, angst.

pairings | jing yuan, zhongli, geto

JING YUAN sees you everywhere.

He sees you in the flowers that bloom every spring, warm and colourful. The books you loved that he still keeps in his house, which is now silent without your sweet voice, and the chessboard you both loved to play.

The way you would always pout when you lose against him, demanding a rematch.

"That's so unfair, Jing Yuan!" You yelled, pouting. Jing Yuan could only chuckle at your antics "Oh, so it's Jing Yuan now? Not 'darling'?" He muses.

You huffed, "I will only call you that if we do a rematch!" You crossed your arms "Uh huh, for like what? The 12th time today?" Jing Yuan pushes on, having fun teasing you.

You gasp "NO!! Are you implying I lost that much?!" Jing Yuan turns his head away "JING YUAN!!" Jing Yuan could only laugh as you sobbed about how many times you lost against him.

Or when you laugh, reading a scene from one of your beloved books.

Now, his house is a quiet kind of cruel. No footsteps. No humming. Just silence. Endless silence.

No one dared to say your name, not aloud.

Not even in their heads. Not the cloud knights, not Fu Xuan, not even Yanqing. Your name became sacred. Heavy. A forbidden language that only grief could understand.

Many have warned him not to get too close to you or he'll fall deep into the abyss.

"She's mortal, my lord! Mortals only live for a matter of time, they don't even live up to 70!"

"And? Will that stop me from loving her?"

For you were mortal, fleeting, fragile. A breath against the eternity he carries.

And still, he loved you.

Still, he loves you.

And he'll be waiting for his time to come "Wait for me, my songbird" He smiles, holding your journal close to his heart. Even when his memories cannot be stored anymore in his brain.

He will always and forever be haunted by your haunting presence.

For as long as lives.

Anyone could see by the way ZHONGLI stares at silk flowers that he's reminiscing about someone, someone dear to him, perhaps, they whisper.

He would leave one seat with him whenever he goes out, leaving some confused, even though he's alone. He would buy things that were obviously not for him, as if he were keeping them for someone.

Lumine and Paimon see him one day, walking to a hidden small island. They wonder what he could be doing there, so they followed him quietly.

"I know you are there, traveler, Paimon" Paimon yelps, "W-We swear we weren't following you or anything!!" She defends herself while Lumine rolls her eyes at her obvious lie.

"I'm sorry, Zhongli, we were just curious where you were going" She answers truthfully, and Zhongli smiles at the duo "If you'd like, come with me then" The duo looked at each other, surprised, but followed him nonetheless.

The duo felt the atmosphere get lighter and the wind get gentler.

Right there, in the middle, was a jade rock, engraved with a name on it. As Zhongli places silk flowers on the grave, Paimon reads the name aloud, "Who was she, Zhongli? A friend?" She curiously asked while Lumine glared daggers at her.

"Oh, sorry! That was rude of Paimon" Zhongli shakes his head "No, no, it's fine" He places another silk flower.

"I enjoy talking about her" The duo listened, quiet now, the waves lapping gently at the edge of the island, as if even the ocean knew to be still.

Zhongli let his fingers brush against the engraved jade rock.

"She was my lover, my equal" He continued "The one who understood me most" His voice was slow and steady, like an old poem.

He smiled faintly "She would always tell me of the mortal world, how she would love to help them, how if she weren't a Goddess, she would have loved to settle down with him, somewhere quiet"

"I leave the seat beside me for her. I bring her favorite pastries home, even if she’ll never taste them again. It’s foolish, I know"

"No" Lumine said quietly "it's not"

And Paimon, unusually silent, whispered, "She must’ve loved you a lot, too" Paimon felt like crying.

Zhongli looked up toward the sky, golden eyes glowing faintly beneath the fading sun "I loved her more"

You were too good for this world, GETO would always say.

But what he really means is—You were too good for him.

He remembered it just like yesterday when you told him, with stars in your eyes, that once you both get married in the future, you wanted daughters after the wedding.

You should have been the mother of Mimiko and Nanako. He knows you would've been the most wonderful mother to them.

"Who's she, Master Geto?" Nanako asked, curiouslly.

His smile falters a little, "The woman that I love" He replied.

No past tense.

The girls call you mother.

Not just because of him, but because they felt you in every soft kindness he gave, in every lesson he taught them about gentleness and strength. He never corrected them.

They wonder if you would've loved them just as how Geto loves them.

It was just another day with you and Geto lying on his bed after a mission.

"I wanna get married at the beach" You said once, tracing circles on his chest. He raises a brow "Why?"

You rolled your eyes "Cause why not? I love watching the ocean breeze" You continued "I would love to have seashells as decorations and watching the sunset as we say our vows"

Geto feels his cheeks getting warm and he wraps his arms around you "Well then, I'll just have to make it come true, hm?" Geto smirks, planting kisses on your face as you giggle.

"My beloved bride" Now, it was your turn to feel shy "My charming groom" You buried your head on his chest, your heart beating fast

He wonders if you are disappointed with how he turned out.

He wonders what you would've looked like in a wedding dress.

He wonders what you would've named your children.

And he'll keep wondering.

He wonders if you'd still love him, now that he's become something darker, colder.

He doesn't have to keep wondering now, though.

Slowly but surely, Geto won't feel his body anymore, he won't feel the pain of not having you by his side, he won't feel the pain of his best friend being disappointed by him.

It'll all be gone soon.

His vision blurs. The world grows quieter. He thinks of seashells. Of a white dress. Of the sun setting, as you say your vows "I do"

Gojo looks at him with a blank expression, his eyes holding sadness and a hint of relief "Tell her that I miss her cooking" Gojo says, knowing his best friend doesn't have any more time.

Geto laughs, coughing blood out "Of course...I'll be seeing her soon, right?"

And this time, he won't have to wonder anymore.

Gojo nods his head slowly. His best friend will soon reunite with the woman he loves.

His beloved bride.