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nicka-nell · 1 year ago

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How they act when they have a crush on you

Pairing: Atsumu x, Suna x, Kuroo x, Ushijima x, Daichi x, Hinata x, Iwaizumi x, Oikawa x reader

Warning: fluff, mdni

Part 1 | Part 2 (end)

A total bully. Constantly in teasing mode.

Whether it’s in class and he throws little paper balls at your head, pulls your hair while you’re tying your shoes in the gym, or “borrows” your homework to copy it and give you your notebook back with a scrabbly drawing next to your exercises.

Atsumu takes every free opportunity to pick on you, thinking that you take it as a form of pleasant affection.

You’re chatting with some friends in sports class when you get hit in the back of the head with a ball. It wasn’t a powerful throw. In fact, you barely felt it, but you know immediately who the ball came from when you turn around with a grim expression and see the wide-grinning blond Miya brother running towards you. “Sorry sweetheart. But ya were standing in my throwing lane.” he grins and picks up the ball. Oh, how you’d love to hit him in the face with the ball.

After school you just want to go home, the umbrella is already open as it is pouring like hell, when you feel two strong hands snatching the umbrella from your hands. “Hey sweetheart, I’m sure ya won’t have a problem if I borrow the umbrella, will ya?” Atsumu smirks at you again, already holding the umbrella in his hands so that he doesn’t get wet. You’re next to him, but half your body still gets wet as you try to take the umbrella away from him. “Hey, I’m a damn superb athlete. Can’t risk it to get sick,” he complains, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you towards him so that you don’t get completely wet. You walk home together for quite a while until Atsumu leads in the opposite direction to his own home. With your umbrella, of course. You can prepare yourself to arrive home soaked and chilled. Awesome.

Atsumu would never think of telling you that he has a crush on you. He assumes that you already know this and that you also have feelings for him, but are too shy to tell him.

When a guy invited you out for ice cream and you agreed, Atsumu complained to Osamu. Osamu first had to make it clear to him that you two are definitely not a couple and that you certainly don’t assume that he has feelings for you, because Atsumu is also just an asshole towards you.

Atsumu interrupts you sulking while you’re eating ice cream with the guy, completely ignores this dude and tells you that you shouldn’t eat ice cream with other guys because he likes you and it annoys him when you do things with other guys who aren’t him.

Suna is probably more of a secret, very laid-back admirer who takes things rather slowly.

He doesn’t behave any differently towards you in everyday life. That’s why it’s not obvious to outsiders that he has feelings for you. Even for you.

You’re in the same circle of friends. He’s not particularly jealous when you talk to other men. Possibly also because he knows exactly what he has to offer and is convinced of himself to a healthy degree.

But after a while, you notice that he’s more interested in you. He always likes your pictures on social media. Sometimes he comments on them with emojis. A fiery heart, or a smiley looking mischievously to the side, or even a smiley with heart eyes. Sometimes he also speaks to you directly about your pictures.

Rarely does he tease you.

“Saw your picture yesterday. Looked good,” he says calmly, his legs up against the wall as he lies on his back on the bed, his head hanging off the edge of it as he looks at his phone in his hands. You’re sitting on the floor with your back against his bed, still finishing up a few things for your group work for school, when you look sideways at him. “Thank you, that was with Tsumu. We played CoD,” you answer him. “A game date?” he replies with an almost arrogant look, still scanning you from his casual position as you shake your head and roll your eyes. Suna wouldn’t admit it, but deep down, he’s glad you denied his question.

Your free classes are for learning. But sometimes you use them to just relax, chat or do nothing. While one or two of you are studying in the school's common room, you approach Suna, who is sitting on a bench with Atsumu and Osamu. Both boys are looking at Suna’s phone, who’s playing a game, when you approach him and ask curiously what he’s doing. All three boys look at you before Suna grabs your hand and casually pulls you onto his lap while resting his head on your shoulder. His hands are around your waist while his phone is in his hands in front of you. “It’s a new mobile game that came out. It’s based on a webtoon,” he answers, still focused on his phone.

Suna would probably confess his feelings to you first. However, his confession is rather spontaneous.

For example, in a store when you buy some fruit sticks on the way back home and he also pays for your stick. Outside, you tell him that he didn’t have to do that and that you can pay for it yourself, but out of the blue, he just tells you that he did it because he likes you. “So what does it matter? I did it because I like you. So bad?”

Like Atsumu, Kuroo is someone who would tease you to get your attention. But not in that childish way with paper balls in your hair.

But at the same time, Kuroo would also help you and is very attentive.

In sports class, you are currently learning the basics of basketball - how to dribble, make a lay-up and so on - before your sports teacher tells you to practice on your own for the next 30 minutes. Kuroo grins at you and throws you the ball. “Do you think you can beat me in a one-on-one?” he smirks, knowing full well that you can’t. Nevertheless, you accept his challenge, start to play and quickly lose the ball. “You need to be less stiff. Try to move with the ball. And... try to keep the ball at about waist height when you dribble,” Kuroo says as he dribbles past you to make a smooth 3-pointer.

You’re sitting on a bench in the shadows during your break. It’s a hot summer day and you just want to get somewhere where there’s air conditioning. “You should drink more. It’s pretty hot today and you’re not an oryx antelope that can go without water for long,” says Kuroo, who suddenly stands next to you at the bench and holds out a small bottle of water.

He always acts so tough around others, but he cares about the people who are important to him.

Would he tell you that he has feelings for you? Probably not, but at some point you would notice it yourself and ask him casually.

If you asked him about it, he’d start off by rambling and beating around the bush, but then eventually admit to having feelings for you.

Ushijima would probably behave the same way towards you as he usually does. At least that’s what he thinks.

But you can actually see him looking in your direction from time to time and subconsciously observing you.

He also subconsciously thinks of you, asking Tendou, for example, whether he could imagine that you might also like certain things.

In class, you are all already in the classroom waiting for the teacher, while you talk to Semi about the new shop next to the school and Tendou tries to tell Ushijima about the latest manga he has read. Tendou quickly realizes that Ushijima isn’t paying any attention to him, but that his gaze is instead wandering toward you and Semi. “Wakatoshi? Were you even listening to me?” Ushijima barely visibly flinches, noticing that his thoughts were somewhere else when he looks over at Tendou again. “Can you lend me the magazine? They always have such interesting promotions on the last page,” he says, completely forgotten that his attention was still on you earlier. Unlike Tendou, who purses his lips and narrows his eyes.

“Uhhh, tell me, did you watch the new K-Drama series? The one with the lawyers and the forensic scientist? Mmmh, the lawyer’s secretary is sooo cute!” Tendou chants as he walks with Ushijima towards the gym for training. “No. Do you think Y/n would like the series? She likes watching these things, doesn’t she?” Ushijima asks dryly, not realizing that he’s only thinking about you again. “Mmm, I don’t know, maybe you two should watch the series,” Tendou replies, hoping to finally get a little more out of Ushijima, but he doesn’t respond to his statement anymore.

It would take so long for Ushijima to realize that he has feelings for you. Whether he finds out on his own, because he realizes that this rapid heartbeat is not because of his “suddenly worsening condition”, or because Tendou gives him a few clues to think about his feelings for you.

However, Ushijima would tell you as soon as he recognized it for himself. But not with a bouquet of flowers and a romantic dinner.

No, he would simply ask you at the next opportunity, if you were interested in him, because he is pretty sure that his interest in you goes beyond friendship. Not caring if you were alone or around friends during his confession.

Sawamura is a little gentleman. He would show his kind of affection through small things. The typical “act of kindness”.

Whether it’s opening the door, holding your school bag while you put on your jacket, or simply walking home together, even if it means a ten-minute diversions for him.

“Ah damn...” you curse quietly as you sit in your seat in the classroom and realise that you’ve forgotten your pencil case at home. “Dai-“ you’re turning around to ask Sawamura if he can lend you a pencil only to see him holding one out to you already, with a slight smile on his face. “Thank you.” You whisper quietly and turn back to the front.

You’re on your way home after a pretty exhausting day at school. All of you stayed a little longer in the school library today to study for your final exams. So it’s already dark when you go home and you’re upset about not bringing a jacket. “Here. Next time you should remember to pack something warm. You never know when it might rain and the temperature could drop,” Sawamura says calmly, holding out the jacket he wears for volleyball training. He himself is still wearing his school uniform jacket. After all, he doesn’t want to catch a cold. You gratefully accept the sports jacket and put it over your shoulders. Sawamura wouldn’t admit it, but he wouldn’t mind if you forgot your jacket next time as well, and wore his instead, because seeing you in his way too big jacket somehow makes his heart beat faster.

Sawamura would think long and hard about whether to confess his feelings to you, because he wouldn’t want to ruin the friendship between you. But in the end, he would be the one to confess his feelings to you first, in the hope that you would return them.

Unlike Ushijima, however, he would do it at a moment that suits him. For example, when the two of you are alone, on the way home together, in a quiet and laid-back environment and a relaxed atmosphere.

Hinata is so clumsy and although he tries to hide his feelings a little bit and keep them under control, even a blind man would understand how much he has a crush on you.

As soon as you enter the room, he gets all nervous and his vocabulary suddenly shrinks so much that it feels like it only consists of 30 words.

Even if Hinata appeared nervous towards you, he would never be someone who would tease you or have a cheeky remark on his lips. Nor would he ignore you. He would also be the cheerful and friendly whirlwind towards you, just a little awkward. He would try to support you, even if it was just carrying the bench in the gym together with you.

“H-hi,” Hinata stutters and turns away, glowing red in the face, as you smile at him and greet him too. “I’ve brought water for myself,” he says with a smile and holds out a water bottle to you. You give him an irritated look, but then giggle. “For you? Yes, that’s nice, but why are you giving it to me?” you ask and notice Hinata blushing again. He’s probably embarrassed right now. But you think it’s cute. “Eh, I mean for you. You. I’ve got my bottle here! See? It’s even full!” he says and reaches for the bottle in the side of his bag, wanting to shake it to show you that it’s full. But instead, he presses down on the bottle and splashes the water on his face. You giggle, but reach into your own gym bag and pull out a small towel to put on Hinata’s wet head so he can dry off. A gesture that is probably too much for his nerves right now.

Tired after his hard and long volleyball training with Kageyama, Hinata is just about to get on his bike and ride home when he sees you sitting at the bus stop in the dark. A little confused, he asks you what you are still doing here at this time of night when you tell him that you missed your bus."Then come on, I’ll drive you home!" he says with a cheerful smile and you don’t even have the chance to say no. Because you’re already sitting on the front of his handlebars while he pedals his bike and takes you home. He doesn’t seem to care that you live in the opposite direction to him and that it will take him even longer to get home, thanks to you. “Hold on tight, the Shouyou taxi is fast as lightning,” he says with a grin and drives you home.

With Hinata, it’s a fifty-fifty chance whether he confesses his feelings to you or not. Either he confesses them to you, but then because he babbles and the words just fall out of him with nervousness, or you tell him at some point that you have feelings for him.

If you are the one who confesses his feelings first, you can literally watch a fuse burn out in his head and how he is completely overwhelmed until he realizes what you have just told him.

Iwaizumi is similar to Sawamura. He would also shine through his act of kindness. Even if he would try to hide it coolly.

However, Iwaizumi also has a protective and slightly jealous side, especially when Oikawa gets the idea to flirt with you. He doesn’t like it when you feel uncomfortable or when other guys get too close to you.

“You shouldn’t carry such heavy things. You’ll damage your back,” Iwaizumi grumbles, before taking the bag with all the water bottles for the volleyball team from you and hanging it over his shoulder. “Hajime... I’m not five anymore... I can carry the bag by myself.” You answer him with a sigh. He’s a bit like your mum... far too caring. The only thing missing now is that he shouts after you in the morning to always bring a jacket so that you don’t freeze in the summer when it’s thirty degrees… “Never mind, I’ll carry the bag now...” he replies casually and turns his head away from you, but the tips of his reddish ears betray his coolness.

“Uuuhh my favorite manager is back” grins Oikawa, who runs up to you and hugs you as if you were best friends, but quickly lets go of you when he is hit in the back of the head with a ball. “Hey Shittykawa, leave her alone. We’re here to train, not to flirt with women. Especially not with our manager, you idiot!” Iwaizumi yells annoyed and approaches you both, while Oikawa tries to hide behind you. “Not my face, not my face!” Oikawa begs from behind you, leaning his head against your back. Iwaizumi tries to pull him away from you as the coach calls everyone together and demands their attention.

Iwaizumi would definitely be the first to tell you that he has feelings for you. But also alone, not in front of all your friends.

He would pull you aside, casually ask if you had a moment and just before he confessed his feelings to you. His tough determination would leave him and he would scratch the back of his neck until he got the words out almost sulkily, not looking you in the eye at first, before repeating his words with more determination, this time looking at you.

Oikawa would try to win your attention with every second.

Whether it’s in class because he offers to answer difficult questions and flaunts the answer to make himself look smart and strong in front of you, or whether it’s in training when he scores 5 points only with his serves.

Even your teacher doesn’t call you by name as often as Oikawa does when he wants your attention.

He also doesn’t like it when he sees you with other guys. He always pushes his way in between your conversations and tries to be close to you.

“Oh hey, Y/n-chan, what are you talking about right now?” he asks with feigned curiosity, his arms draped over your shoulders as he stares darkly into the eyes of the young guy in front of you. “Oh eh, we were talking about the new movie that airs tomorrow,” you reply, looking back over your shoulder at Oikawa, who suddenly looks at you with a smile, the dark expression completely gone. “A movie? Shall we go together?” He’s not really in the mood for the cinema, but if it means this guy leaves and Oikawa can spend more time with you, it’s a win-win.

Oikawa walks out of the changing room with a big grin on his face. Freshly showered and in everyday clothes after his team won the game against a neighboring team. “Did you see how many points I scored in that game? It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he asks, totally full of himself, as he puts his arm over your shoulders and pulls you closer to him. “Yes... you really scored a lot of points. But Hajime was also really-“, ”Iwa-chan could only score so many points because I’m the best setter. Right? You saw that, didn’t you? How I pass the ball into Iwa-chan’s hand?" he interrupts you, almost as if it annoys him that you were about to praise his best friend. With a sigh, you just chuckle. “Mhh yes, that’s right. You’re really great.” you answer him and watch as his eyes sparkle even brighter and he happily presses you against his chest. “I knew you only had eyes for me, little birdy.”

Since Oikawa assumes that every woman likes him anyway, he also expects you to like him. Would he tell you that he has feelings for you? Maybe.

The fact that you two are always doing so much together and that he’s like a clingy puppy somehow blurs the line between friendship and relationship.

At some point, when a guy had asked for your number, Oikawa had then shouted loudly that the guy should leave his girlfriend alone. You looked at him in confusion and there was a brief, awkward silence until you asked him if by any chance he had feelings for you.

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #kuroo x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #hinata x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi haijime x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader

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sungiescheotluv · 5 months ago

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mirror muscles ⭑.ᐟ na jaemin

pairing: na jaemin x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, gym talk(?)

summary: doing your new resolutions with jaemin has always worked in your favor, most goals ticked off your lists. however, when you mention going to gym, jaemin's enthusiasm reaches new heights.

notes: hiyaaaa! it feels like forever since i last posted (two days omg 🙄) but i do hope you pretty stars enjoy this very indulgent fic! as an aspiring gym girlie, i'd do anything for this kind of princess treatment (particularly from jaemin 😋) also, the title of this is based on the soft play song with the same name (emo jisung, lemme give u some music recs). ok, i think i'm done here. wishing u all the best, much loveeee! <3

Note to self: never, under any circumstances, tell Jaemin your New Year’s resolution. Because one peek at your ambitious list and Jaemin will pry you from your warm bed, at the ass crack of dawn (might you add) to go to the gym because ‘nothing beats a morning pump.’

If you weren’t stupidly in love with him, you would’ve dropped a dumbbell on his toe.

How you get to this point is a lot more wholesome. Since the start of your relationship, once snow trickles down for Christmas, you two sit at your dining table with your laptops opened on Pinterest and pin-point what goals you'd like to achieve the following year. This way, you’re not shouldering your ambitions alone, having each other every step of the year as you tick off box after box. So far, you’ve managed to complete most of your goals. Go traveling, learn a new language, cook more home-cooked meals, limit screen time (still working on that) and many more. Jaemin was also progressing well: dedicating more time in his photography, reducing his coffee intake, going to bed earlier and visiting his mother more.

For this year’s moodboard, while collecting pictures of your next set of goals, fitness content shows up in your recommendations. People in pilates studios in their pastel pink gym-sets. The aesthetic draws you in, how content people feel moving their body besides getting their 10k steps a day in. More photos start showing up, people sculpting their pride in the gym, sharing personal stories of their fitness journey and how the gym has taught them so much about themselves. What they’re capable of, what they never thought they could do and what opportunities lie await now that they’re happier in themselves. It all seems promising, even more so when you reconsider how bright your best friend’s life’s become since making the choice. She’d rarely accompany you to a game of badminton and now she’s pioneering her own run-club, amassing a social media following the size of an army.

You’d have to ask her how to get started once she’s back from her influencer trip (maybe content creating is something you needed to hop on). Then again, peering over your laptop screen to Jaemin’s glowing face, you could simply ask him. He’s been consistently going to the gym for a while now, to the point where you fake-pleaded for SM to close their gym because your boyfriend's become too buff for you to function. He’s always been gorgeous, with a face that could charm a snake, but now that he’s carved like a Renaissance sculpture, you couldn’t form a coherent sentence around him. Of course, aesthetic reasons are what lured him into the space, but he relays it’s become a lot more than that for him.

“I want to be strong, not only to build my confidence but to also protect my loved ones,” he looks directly at you, a serious hue to his eyes. “It’s another form of self-love. Showing up for myself, proving I can do hard things, even when I don’t want to. That I can step out of my comfort zone, try new things and ultimately, live a longer life. Because at the end of the day, as much as I do this for me, I also do it so I can help you carry groceries. So that I can move furniture around when we move in together, be the one that my family calls if they need something physically demanding done,”

Fondness curves his lips, a flicker of timidity dart his eyes down to the desk before they flicker back up at you, astoundingly earnest as he says, “I’d also want to keep up with our kids. Carry them when they’re tired or run after them in a park. Those are my reasons.”

Something stutters in your chest. Then, leaps. Over the course of your three year relationship, it’s only natural that topics like this are mentioned, like marriage and children. Heck, you two shared a Pinterest board of decor ideas for the shared apartment you’d been on the lookout for. So, it shouldn't phase you but it does. How far into the future he sees with you. How he shares a bit of himself so effortlessly, in a way that lacks pressure and possesses good faith. Love and promise. All prominent themes throughout your relationship, one you thank your lucky stars for.

As a consequence, you flush. Folding like the early days of your relationships. “You’re getting bold these days. We haven’t even moved in together.”

“All in good time, angel,” he grins, looking a bit lovesick. “In any case, if this is something you wanna do, I’d be more than happy to help. Go to the gym with you so you don’t feel anxious, show you how to use the machines, get you workout clothes - whatever you want.”

You could marry this man.

You extend your arm across the wooden table, hand finding his as your fingers interlace, the same song and dance you’d hope you’d spend your life doing. “Thanks, baby.”

And now? Now, divorce weighs heavily on your mind.

In an effort to avoid the New Year’s crowd, Jaemin wakes you up early in the slum of days after Christmas where time doesn’t exist, cuddling into your half-sleeping figure with a gentle voice. Coaxes you to get up, slip on the new gym clothes you’d spent on his card (his treat, he said) and somehow, here you are, stinging eyes squinting under fluorescent lights with some EDM track playing faintly in the background.

“Oh, baby. Don’t look so down, you’re in good hands,” Jaemin coos, hand squishing your cheeks under your chin before pulling you into his chest, warm and comforting. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Couldn’t this wait until,” you glance at your fitness tracker, your own treat to yourself. “Midday? No one needs to be here at 9 am.”

“Maybe, but it’s a good way to start your day. Or get it out of the way,” he chuckles, spinning you out his arms before he wiggles his eyebrows. “Plus, who doesn’t want to see my muscles first thing in the morning?”

He drives home his point by kissing his bicep, something that should make you cringe out your skin or disappear without a trace, but no. Perhaps you’re still sleepy, shielding a snicker with your hand because of how lame (said adoringly) he is.

“You said you’d usually start off with thirty minutes on the treadmill, right?” You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’ll run for fifteen and row until you're done. So you don’t constantly have me in your ear.”

You laugh, because as grumpy as you’d been on the way here, you could never grow tired of him. All his carefree and mischief nature, his sweet and generous manner - you couldn’t even if you tried.

Few people populate the modern gym, near to none in the cardio section as Jaemin refreshes your memory on all the buttons before you begin. Beside you, he does sporadic sprints, no heavy breaths clouding his chatter with you. You, on the other hand, keep it relatively reserved for your first time, upping the speed when you want to challenge yourself, surprising yourself with the distance and time that flies by. Soon enough, Jaemin’s squeezing your hand and moving a few rows back where the rowing machines are, leaving you with your walking playlist.

Again, in a flash, time passes by, upbeat songs blaring in your headphones that make you dance through the next fifteen minutes, a simmer of sadness coming when you’ve reached time with a whole host of songs still in the queue.

“You can listen to them next time,” Jaemin winks before leading you into a dark, LED room dotted with mirrors and yoga mats. This is one of the rooms booked for classes, but for now, it’s your stretching area where you cycle through some stretches and Jaemin jokes about folding you like a pretzel.

The one other person in the room - a woman in her thirties - coughs, before smirking your way, the heat of your embarrassment migrating to your cheeks as you swat at Jaemin. He simply laughs, stretching to reveal his happy trail and suddenly, you forget why you’re even mad.

When you’re finished, he shows you different sections - an assortment of cable machines, the weights area and then to an area with more machines. There’s a few people occupying the machines, immersed in their own world with flushed cheeks and sweat seeping into their clothes. It fills you with relief, that no one’s focused on you and your sweating figure as if you had ‘gym newbie’ written across your forehead. Jaemin shows you some of the machines he uses, depending on what he wants to work out but for the most part, lets you decide what machines you’d want to use - if any.

“Why do I need to put on muscle? You putting me in a headlock is good enough.” You fake-complain, feeding off the gentle approach Jaemin’s taken in trying to convert you to a gym rat.

“And you say I’m the dirty one,” he tsks with a matching grin. “You don’t need to do anything. All I’m doing is showing you the options you have. The more things you try, the more likely you’ll find something you lik-”

“Is that the slut machine?”

Jaemin’s head jerks back, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What are you talking about?’

“This one,” you approach the machine closeby, pointing to the photo attached along with its actual name - hip adduction. “Isn’t this the one where people like, open their legs like crazy?”

Jaemin shakes his head, amusement in the smile he swipes with his hand. “Yes, it is. Wanna give it a go?”

“Hell yeah,” you climb into the machine in a rush, finding the experience more exciting than scary as Jaemin makes sure everything is in order. “This is gonna be hilarious.”

“I’m setting it to a low weight. If it’s too easy, we’ll move it upwards and try and find your range,” he comments, looking at you through his silver hair. “You ready?”

“Ready,” and you go, the weight moving like nothing, so much so that when it sets back to its original position, you’re more caught off guard by how far apart your legs are spread. “This is so raunchy, ohmygod.”

“Good thing it’s facing the wall,” Jaemin laughs at you shielding in between your legs. He ups the weight, the number looking a lot scarier than anticipated. “Let’s try this then. You should be able to rep 10 of these.”

You shuffle, a bit unconvinced. Taking a breath, you engage the machine, exerting more effort than before but managing to do one rep. Then two, then three all the way up to ten. Enough to challenge you, but not strain you.

Jaemin howls, pinching your cheek as he says, “Look at you go! That was great.”

“Thank you,” you huff, the tingle in your thighs somehow the source of the happiness in your chest. “That was really fun, actually.”

“Isn’t it?” Jaemin smiles, using some paper towel to wipe after the machine for you. “Usually people do about three sets of those. Reps depend on what you want to do - build endurance, muscle strength, all that. But that was really great, I’m so proud of you.”

And you feel proud of yourself too. Having tried something new, feeling unsure but leaning into the feeling. Letting yourself see how far you can extend yourself, pleasantly surprised with the distance.

So, this was what Jaemin was on about.

You continue your morning like this, getting a personalised tutoring session in how certain machines works and what areas they work out. Jaemin runs through his leg day, since you two were on the hip adduction machine, enjoying more exercises like leg press and goblet squats. By the time you get to the hip thrust machine to try, someone’s occupying it. Jaemin suggests using the squat rack, the scary thing with a long barbell and weights attached to it. Sensing your apprehension, Jaemin lets you know he’s got you, coaching you through the exercise and any queries you may have about movement or positioning. Eventually, it’s your turn to lean against the incline bench and despite your fear, you work your way through 8 hip thrusts. You don’t nearly enjoy it as much as people online talk about it, which Jaemin says,

“That’s perfectly fine. There’s so many exercises that work the same areas. You’ll find one you prefer.”

Finished for your session, Jaemin asks for you to hold tight while he does some deadlifts. It’s maddening watching him pick up such heavy weights, concentration knitting his eyebrows together with his exposed arms flexing under the tension. Wearing a sleeveless top for the gym in theory is great, but for your mental health? Bad, so bad.

Because even if your body rings with exhaustion, the kind that’s refreshing and ensures a peaceful slumber, you’re about ready to jump his bone.

Ill with lust, as you’d joke.

Jaemin snickers, snapping his waist belt off with one hand, which shouldn’t be sexy but is. Your eyes then trail to the barbell, the memory of Jaemin’s set vivid in your mind.

“Did you wanna try it?” Jaemin asks, reading your mind. “We can start off with no weights. Just the barbell. There’s also different variations of a deadlift, let’s see which one you prefer.”

Out of the three, you pick the most conventional one to start with, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Particularly after Jaemin loads weights on each end when you've rehearsed with the barbell.

“Think of the barbell cutting your feet in half - not standing too close so that your shins are touching it and not too far away that you have to lean to grab it,” Jaemin coaches, your feet shuffling into the right position. “Nice. Let’s move onto the hinge movement,”

From behind you, his hands settle onto your hips, pulling them back with him. He pats them, a chuckle left in his wake as he steps to your side to demonstrate without overly being horny.

Bastard.

“Like you just did, you’ve gotta hinge your hips backwards until you can’t hinge anymore. Then, you’ll move a little into your knees, like a squat almost so you can grab the barbell,” you follow along, the barbell cold against your hands as you blow a breath.

“Great. Keep your body tense, engage your core and glutes. No arch,” his hand hovers over the arch of your back, something teasing in his smile. “Show your chest, keep your head up straight and lift the barbell up. Remember to keep it close to your body before you lower it down with the same hinge movement and movement into your knees.”

You puff out another breath, the same fear you’ve conquered throughout the session whirring in your chest.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Jaemin smiles, moving behind you again with hovered hands around your figure. “I’ve got you. You’ve got you.”

Again, his words dawn on you. All the power in your hands, a feeling your heart wants nothing more than to run towards as you lift up the barbell, strength personified as you wait at the top of your stance, smiling at the “Let’s fucking go, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, angel!” in your ear. You hinge backwards, the weight knocked down to the floor with no tension on your back as expected.

Once you’re upright again, Jaemin engulfs you in a backhug, lifting your figure off the floor and kissing your neck, drawing giggles out of you. Joy moves through your body like warm light at his excitement that exceeds your own, belief not setting in quite yet.

“I can’t believe you,” he coos, the mirror ahead of you capturing the embrace he holds you in, the elation in his eyes as he does nothing but adore you. Like he’s always done. “Actually, I can. You’ve got a laundry list of things you’re good at. Can you believe it?”

“Not originally,” you admit, the confession somewhat bittersweet. “But after this, I think I’d better have more faith in myself.”

Fondness finds itself in his lips again, a kiss against your cheek as he gently guides you out the way, lifting the barbell onto the rack with his gaze in the mirror directed to yours.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

And you fall into laughter, helping him slid off the weights before flexing in the mirror like you wanted, finding a different strength in yourself with Jaemin by your side.

#nct dream fic #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #na jaemin #nct dream fics #na jaemin x reader #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin x you #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin x you #nct jaemin x reader #sungiescheotluv fics ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱

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captain-bubble-wrap · 5 months ago

Note

HELP ME PLEASE

Your quinn is literally my favorite!!!!!!!!!!! Can you write him and reader!girlfriend on the phone after the stars game? Your sweet/sad quinn is the best!!!!!!!!!

Oh, you're WAY TO KIND TO ME...! 🥹🥹 Let's see what I can do!

All you had texted was, "I love you."

Incoming Call: Quinny

Quinn's broken voice in that post-game interview had killed you. The way he had looked down before answering about how he was feeling, his thoughts on Millsy's trade, and how he was handling the noise of the dressing room as the team's captain -- it was obvious how much it all was affecting him. Unfortunately, you were twenty-two-hundred miles away, and you felt powerless to help him in any form.

"Hey, baby," you said upon answering the call.

Quinn's voice was low, and it was obvious he was beyond exhausted, body and mind, "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course." Your stomach tightened like you were about to receive some bad news. You hadn't heard him sound this way before and given how the day had gone, you knew it wasn't going to be a butterfly-inducing conversation.

"Let me get somewhere a little quieter. I need to hear your voice."

To you, he sounded desperate -- like he was at his breaking point. While you waited for him to walk to wherever he needed to be, you couldn't help but worry about him -- about what had caused him pain during the game, how losing JT and the others was weighing on him, and the stress of the upcoming tournament that was just four games away. You couldn't get the sad look of his face out of your mind. When was the last time he had actually had a good day, that he was happy without nagging stresses?

"Hey Mike, I'm gonna step out for a few minutes," Quinn said, obviously not talking to you. You couldn't hear the other man's reply but it must have been favourable as Quinn would finally start his conversation with you just a few seconds afterwards.

He sighed heavily, "I wish you were here. I-- I feel like everything is out of control and I don't know what to do."

The sound of wind was intertwined with his words. You wondered if he had stepped outside the arena to talk to you, somewhere to speak without listening ears.

"I wish I was there, too," you confessed, a pain growing in your heart. "You're trying to carry too much, baby."

"I have no choice, though."

You knew where he was coming from. The title of Captain meant you wore several hats, and sometimes more than one at a time. You knew he had all of them on at once. This season hadn't been easy, and something had you believing it wasn't going to get any better.

"I know," you mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he breathed out, feeling guilty for calling you when he was feeling like he was. "I'm sorry to put this on you. I just don't know what to do. Everyone is looking to me for answers and insight, but I don't have any. I don't know how to fix the team, I'm carrying as much as I can every night. I'm asked about what's going on behind closed doors and the temperature of the room and I'm over it. It's like the media just wants to keep stirring the pot instead of letting us just work it out. Now I'm being asked about if the team rebuilds what that means for my future in Vancouver. I-- I just-- I can't-- handle everything right now." Your heart was breaking hearing him on the brink of tears. His voice was cracking and shaky. "I need you."

"I wish I was there, sweetheart. I'd do anything I could to help you."

"I love you," his voice at a whisper.

"I love you, too, Quinn."

The first whimper made you cover your mouth to keep yourself from doing the same. Quinn rarely cried, at least not when you were around. To hear him finally drop that ultra-reserved demeanour of his was crushing.

"Oh honey, you'll be okay," you tried to reassure him, but they were words without certainty, you knew that. "You're doing the best you can, and you need to realise that you need to put yourself first sometimes. You're pushing yourself too much. It's not on you to solely fix the team, Quinn, though I know you're trying. I've never seen you this way before, and I'm scared it's going to break you."

He was silent on the other end, aside from his muffled cries. You didn't need him to say anything, though hearing his voice would have made you feel better, which made you remember what he had said to you earlier: "I need to hear your voice."

Maybe he just needed you to talk to him.

"One day at a time, baby, please. Be happy where you are, and what you have. You're doing all you can, and I need you to know that it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to be content with how things are. You know there are things out of your control, and you just have to let them work themselves out sometimes. You'll drive yourself crazy trying to put bandaids on everything. I don't want to lose you down that rabbit hole." You'd pause before adding one more thing, "I just want you to be okay."

Quietly you'd sit there and wait for a sign from him, or whatever it might be. A long moment of silence would follow your words, making you pull the phone away from your ear to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

"I miss you," he choked out, breaking the painful silence between the two of you.

"I miss you more, Quinn. I wish you were here."

"Me, too," he said, sharply inhaling, like he was trying to push those emotions back down and get over it. "Thank you for picking up everything -- the call, the pieces...me. I'd be so lost without you."

You'd shake your head, "You never have to thank me, baby. I just want to help you."

"I appreciate that," he sniffled. "I just wish I knew where to start."

"With yourself, Quinn," you said bluntly. "How are you feeling? I saw you take the stick to the head early."

It took him a few seconds to respond but you didn't mind, "I don't know, honestly. Between my hand and whatever is wrong with my leg, everything hurts. I'm tired. I'm drained."

Everything he said carried so much weight and his emotions were so painfully honestly.

That was just Quinn.

He always spoke from his heart; wearing his heart on his sleeve every waking moment of his life. However this had a different air about it -- a nakedness. He was free to share his deepest fears with you, those raw feelings were bleeding from him with no hindrance. You appreciated that he felt so comfortable to open up like he was, and the fact that he was away from you, as well. Quinn didn't give the hint that he shared stuff like this with the guys on the team -- not like he did with you. You were different. He loved you -- you occupied a special piece of his heart like no on else did. That meant something special to him.

"You'll be home soon, baby. Just a little longer, okay?"

Through Quinn's end of line, someone was calling out to him, "C'mon Quinn-- the boy's are packing up, let's go."

You frowned hearing the empty orders, but you knew Quinn would have to end the call with you and head to the airport. There was always a sense of urgency after their games, especially the away ones.

"Yeah-- I'll be right there," he muttered, his voice dropping off at the end while he pretended to have himself together. "I'll call you when we get back to Vancouver."

"Be careful."

"I will," he paused. "Thanks, babe. For all that you do for me."

"Happy to help, Quinny. I love you."

For the first time, you heard his little giggle, "I love you, too."

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #💌maven's love notes

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saetoru · 2 years ago

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy

synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help

contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!

word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)

notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋

he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.

he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses.

what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.

“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”

“you’re late,” you spit.

“am i? i could have sworn—”

“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy.

“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly.

what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.

“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”

“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”

typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.

he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials.

i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has.

but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed.

he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer.

you hate him.

“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”

“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”

“what?” your eye twitches.

“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”

before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.

“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”

“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”

is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.

“you’re an asshole,” you spit.

“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal.

“i saw you post on your story last night—”

“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”

“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”

“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”

“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.

“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.

“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”

“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”

“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”

“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.

—————

like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.

hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished

btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come

i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him

oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)

you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.

okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.

k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.

the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.

wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?

that’s ok i don’t judge

so how bout the party?

i can be ur escort ;)

it’ll be fun!

from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.

—————

gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you.

frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.

he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before.

it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes.

why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself?

gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy.

“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly.

why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.

“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.

gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.

“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.

“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”

“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”

“he has a name. it’s—”

“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”

“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?

“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”

“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.

okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.

he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”

“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”

“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”

“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”

“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”

“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”

“you mentioned it first!”

“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”

“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”

“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”

he is not lazy, he wants to argue.

but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway.

—————

the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy.

gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are.

“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”

“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.

“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”

you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood.

“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.

“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”

you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”

he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can.

“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”

“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.

“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams.

settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.

“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”

he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.

“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”

“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”

you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird.

okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.

“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room.

“what makes you say that?”

“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”

he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.

“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”

“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.

“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”

“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact.

but not so bad.

“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”

“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”

“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”

—————

“hey, satoru?”

“that’s not my name.”

“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.

“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.”

you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.

“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.

“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”

“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”

“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”

“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”

finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.

satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real

#teepods.writings #fics.#rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you

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diamonddaze01 · 7 months ago

Note

HEYYY. I read your off the record jeonghan's fic and OH MY GOD. IT WAS SOOOOOOOO AMAZING AND GOOD. CHEF'S KISS MWAH

I was wondering if you can do jeonghan 75 drabble. I would really really appreciate it. thank you and love you mwah

off the record

pairing: jeonghan x reader | wc: 1.3k prompt: "guess who's going to be a father!" au: f1 au | warnings: mentions of pregnancy a/n: hello hello nari your asks always make me smile <3 // this is a continuation of [on the record] bc ferrari!jeonghan lives in my head rent free (highly recommend you read on the record first for some context)

The atmosphere at the Australian Grand Prix was electric, the roar of the crowd still echoing as the last of the race cars pulled into the pit lane. Jeonghan had just secured yet another win, and the sea of Ferrari red flooded every corner of the paddock. The team was in chaos—cheers and hugs, champagne spraying everywhere, mechanics shaking with excitement—but Jeonghan’s gaze was fixed on something else.

You stood just outside the frenzy, leaning casually against the barrier, your camera poised as you snapped a few final shots. You’d been here before, a part of this circus. But today, you had a story of your own to deal with, one that Jeonghan was certain would find its way to his attention.

Jeonghan peeled off his helmet and flashed a grin at the crew as they crowded around him. But his eyes were still searching for you.

A few weeks ago, you'd written something that had the entire paddock talking.

"Guess Who’s Going to be a Father!"

Yoon Jeonghan, Ferrari’s golden boy, had been linked to a famous model, Sienna Hartley, the stunning up-and-coming fashion icon known for her work with luxury brands. A few months ago, the paparazzi had caught the two of them together at a private event. The photos were casual enough—Jeonghan with his arm around her waist, a smile that seemed too comfortable—but it was the following week’s headlines that sent the media into a frenzy.

The shots of Sienna taken at an upscale café, her baby bump unmistakable under a form-fitting dress, had people running wild with speculation. Was Jeonghan going to be a father? Had he been keeping a secret relationship? The rumors only grew when neither Jeonghan nor Sienna commented on the speculation, leaving fans and gossip columns to fill in the blanks.

The rumblings were only growing louder, and of course, you had jumped into the fray, teasing the possibility of Jeonghan becoming a father. The headline had been coy but suggested a connection between the two, leaving just enough room for interpretation. And now, here he was, stepping out of the car, knowing exactly who was responsible for the chaos.

As he walked toward you, the crowd parted around him, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. He could practically feel the mischievous energy radiating from you, even from a distance. The subtle smirk tugging at your lips was all the warning he needed.

Jeonghan approached with slow, deliberate steps, his face a mixture of amusement and challenge. "So we write fake articles now, do we, sweetheart?" he called, his voice carrying across the pit lane.

You didn’t even flinch. With a calm, collected posture, you raised an eyebrow, offering him a half-smile as you lowered your camera. "Just reporting what people are saying," you replied smoothly, voice teasing. "You know, about you possibly becoming a father this year."

"People are saying that?" Jeonghan asked, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. He stepped closer, clearly enjoying the tension building between you two. "Maybe you’ve been spending too much time with the gossip columnists, huh? Could’ve sworn the last time I checked, we were talking about race wins, not baby bumps."

You shrugged, not missing a beat. "Well, Jeonghan, it’s not my fault your personal life keeps getting more interesting than your driving. You really should be more careful with who you’re seen with."

His eyes darkened playfully. "Careful? You think I care about rumors?" he quipped, leaning in just a little bit closer, his voice dropping to a lower, more flirtatious tone. "But if you wanted to get my attention, sweetheart, there are far better ways than a headline about some fake baby."

You tilted your head, smiling in that way that always left him unsure whether you were teasing or challenging him. "Who says I want your attention?" you replied with a hint of challenge, crossing your arms as if daring him to press further.

Jeonghan’s smile only widened. "You’ve got my attention now, don't you?" he teased, his fingers brushing against the barrier you were leaning on, his proximity making it hard to ignore the way the air between you two shifted.

You glanced up at him, keeping your expression casual, but the spark in your eyes was undeniable. "Oh, I don’t know," you said nonchalantly, "maybe I’m just here to enjoy the view of a guy in red doing what he does best – reckless maneuvers that still somehow let him win, y’know?" You paused, letting that sink in. "Though if you really wanted to shut down those rumors, maybe you should take a different approach."

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

You gave him a sly smile. "I don’t know. Maybe just come out and say you’re not the father. Or, you know, get more specific about who you’re spending time with. The fans love a good love story, after all."

The way his expression shifted made it clear that he wasn’t quite ready for this conversation to take that turn. His jaw clenched, a hint of frustration appearing under the surface, but it was quickly replaced with his signature smirk. "Sweetheart, you sure talk a big game for someone who's so quiet when it counts."

You leaned in just a little, enough for your words to linger in the air between you. "I could say the same about you," you shot back, eyes glinting with mischief.

Jeonghan paused, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth, but you had him on edge in a way that he didn’t expect. "Listen," he said, his tone dipping lower, his voice now laced with more than just flirtation. "There's only one girl in the paddock I have eyes for, and it sure as hell isn’t Sienna Hartley."

The tension between you two was palpable, a spark igniting in your chest at his words. You met his gaze head-on, not backing down. "And who says I’m interested in your attention, Jeonghan?" you shot back, smirking. "Maybe I just like watching you squirm under pressure."

He leaned in a little more, his breath coming out a little sharper. "You really think you can get under my skin with a headline like that?" he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "I’m not the one with something to prove, sweetheart."

You could feel his breath on your skin, but instead of feeling intimidated, a thrill ran through you. "Then why do you look like you’re about to lose that smug grin?" you teased, lifting your chin just slightly, making sure the challenge was clear in your words.

Jeonghan grinned, his teeth flashing. "Oh, I’m not losing anything," he said, the playful tone returning. "But if you really want to get my attention, there are better ways than headlines."

You smirked, standing your ground. "Oh? Well, if you want to do something better with your mouth than argue with me, you know where to find me." You shot him a quick wink and began to turn away.

Jeonghan's eyes widened for a moment as he processed your words, and for the briefest second, he was completely thrown off. His confident swagger faltered, and it was then that you realized: you’d left him flustered.

You glanced back over your shoulder with a smug grin. "But I’ll be honest, Jeonghan," you called out, "I’d much rather see you focus on keeping your title than keeping up with rumors."

And with that, you turned and walked off, leaving Jeonghan standing there, still processing your bold departure. His pulse was racing, but not because of the race. This time, it was because of you—your words, your attitude, and the way you had him on edge in a way no one else could.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath, but the smile on his face betrayed how much he appreciated the challenge. “I should’ve asked her to dinner.”

But knowing you, this was far from over. And next time? He might just have something to say about it.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

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the-library-alcove · 3 months ago

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One of the things that's honestly so fascinating--sociologically speaking--is how Hamas and the rest of their Islamist allies have managed to turn their "Pro-Palestine" cultists and useful idiots into full-on Arab Supremacist Fascists.

Quoting Umberto Eco's 14 Common Features Of Fascism, with my comments as addendum:

The cult of tradition. “One has only to look at the syllabus of every fascist movement to find the major traditionalist thinkers. The Nazi gnosis was nourished by traditionalist, syncretistic, occult elements.” In the Hamasnik cult, this is exemplified by the claims of an ancient--prehistoric, even!--continuity and history of Palestine, the "well, this is their culture!" promotion of misogyny and sexism, as with the Taliban and Hamas, and, of course, the "Blood and Soil" rhetoric we see being promoted as part of the idealized "Palestinian connection to the land".

The rejection of modernism. “The Enlightenment, the Age of Reason, is seen as the beginning of modern depravity. In this sense Ur-Fascism can be defined as irrationalism.” See all of the "anti-Western" outlooks from the Hamasnik crowd, plus all of the rejections of science and documented history in favor of a simplified propaganda narrative.

The cult of action for action’s sake. “Action being beautiful in itself, it must be taken before, or without, any previous reflection. Thinking is a form of emasculation.” See all of the pointless protests, where not only is what is being demanded pointless, but in many cases there is no causal link between their actions and what they supposedly wish to accomplish, and often are actively harmful to their cause. The man who climbed up on London architecture the other month "to bring awareness to the Palestinian cause" did nothing to help them, but he certainly took action!

Disagreement is treason. “The critical spirit makes distinctions, and to distinguish is a sign of modernism. In modern culture the scientific community praises disagreement as a way to improve knowledge.” See how any Palestinian peace activist is treated for an easy example of this one.

Fear of difference. “The first appeal of a fascist or prematurely fascist movement is an appeal against the intruders. Thus Ur-Fascism is racist by definition.” Note how "Zionist" has been turned into a pejorative, and "Zio", a slur coined by the KKK, is easily on the lips of these "activists".

Appeal to social frustration. “One of the most typical features of the historical fascism was the appeal to a frustrated middle class, a class suffering from an economic crisis or feelings of political humiliation, and frightened by the pressure of lower social groups.” See the common statements of "We don't want two state, we want all '48!" and a general refusal to accept that there's a status quo where Israel isn't going anywhere and peace is necessary; instead, there's an attitude of frustration that they want this outcome, and they're going to get it!

The obsession with a plot. “Thus at the root of the Ur-Fascist psychology there is the obsession with a plot, possibly an international one. The followers must feel besieged.” The sheer amount of "Zionists control the government/media/economy/etc" conspiracism makes this almost too easy.

The enemy is both strong and weak. “By a continuous shifting of rhetorical focus, the enemies are at the same time too strong and too weak.” But at the same time as "Zionists control the world", they're also apparently readily intimidated and rebuffed by a bunch of ineffectual and over-privileged college students.

Pacifism is trafficking with the enemy. “For Ur-Fascism there is no struggle for life but, rather, life is lived for struggle.” Again, see the treatment any Palestinian working for a two-state solution for an easy example of this one.

Contempt for the weak. “Elitism is a typical aspect of any reactionary ideology.” This one is interesting, because you do see it... but not in the usual form, because it's become contempt for anyone who isn't willing to show the "strength" of committing full-fledged to their belief system and sacrifice themselves in its service. See, for example, the adoption and twisting of "none of us are free until all of us are free", where activists for other causes that can actually do measurable good are dismissed or condemned for "not standing with Palestine".

Everybody is educated to become a hero. “In Ur-Fascist ideology, heroism is the norm. This cult of heroism is strictly linked with the cult of death.” Everyone is expected to sacrifice themselves for the Uber-Cause, Palestine, and even engage in "activism" when bed-bound.

Machismo and weaponry. “Machismo implies both disdain for women and intolerance and condemnation of nonstandard sexual habits, from chastity to homosexuality.” This one is fascinating, because you do have "Queers For Palestine" and other such Turkeys-For-Thanksgiving groups, but at the same time, watch how they treat other queers who don't get in line with their ideology. Also, note how these people actively celebrate and support rapists from Hamas.

Selective populism. “There is in our future a TV or Internet populism, in which the emotional response of a selected group of citizens can be presented and accepted as the Voice of the People.” And the select group of citizens are "a small fraction of coddled students at elite universities" and "a group of fanatical militants".

Ur-Fascism speaks Newspeak. “All the Nazi or Fascist schoolbooks made use of an impoverished vocabulary, and an elementary syntax, in order to limit the instruments for complex and critical reasoning.”

I'm just going to make a separate list here:

War becomes Genocide.

Humanitarian Aid becomes Manufactured Famine.

Borders become Concentration camp walls.

Suicide bombers become heroes.

Rape becomes Resistance.

Civilian Evacuation becomes Ethnic Cleansing

Unwilling Human Shields become Brave Martyrs

Indoctrinated Child Soldiers become Adorable Spirit Of Resistance or Murder

People returning to their native homeland become Colonizers

Hostages become Prisoners of War

Anti-Rocket Defense becomes a Tool of Genocide

Surrender becomes Ceasefire

Keeping terrorists away from civilians becomes Apartheid

Civilians become Acceptable Targets

And more. (I edited an earlier version of this post that had a graphic I added because I was tired and it contained a lot of what I was going for, but it was pointed out that it had some... issues. So it's gone and this list is added)

So with all of that said, I just find it fascinating (in the same way that, say, a weapon or a dangerous chemical or the like is fascinating) how a bunch of ostensible progressives and Leftists have been conditioned and propagandized into becoming Arab Supremacist Fascists, when the majority of them are not Arab. Many are, in fact, from groups and classes that would be marginalized or actively persecuted if the very Islamists they support gained power over them. At least White Supremacists make sense in a way--they're acting in their own perceived self-interest and self-promotion. But these people? The only thing that's in it for them is the sense of moral superiority and the ability to be as bigoted as they want to against Jews.

And the only thing that I can say to that is that really gives a sense of the seductiveness of bigotry.

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #the anti imperialism of idiots

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creatingnikki · 2 years ago

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another year is ending and I want you to know that it is okay if you:

have not healed from the things that happened/did not happen from six months ago. just because the year is ending it does not mean your grief is too.

don't have any "fun" NYE plans to ring in the new year. this life is yours to live across days and months and years, and you can celebrate days other than the ones heavily marketed and shoved down your throat to shroud you in severe FOMO.

have no resolutions or goals for the new year laid out in elaborate lists or shared on social media or with your friends. you are braving through this life trying to do your best every day and hold the fort and so of course you know, deep down you know what is needed from you for you going forward and of course you are going to work in that direction. good luck love.

have not become a "better" version of yourself by any of the tangible or conventional measures. that kind of bettering is mostly to serve others, not yourself.

are not happy with yourself/your life as it is now. you're a work-in-progress, remember? and if you're progressing in a direction you do not like, then it's time to change the blueprints and the strategy.

take time off social media around this time to protect your mental health and whatever little joy you have managed to keep.

don't want to spend too much time reflecting on how this past year went and doing various forms of 2023-wrapped. again, it's your life. you can also revisit this year in memories and pictures and feelings whenever you'd like. it's not like you don't still visit 2012, 2017, and 2022, right?

feel disconnected from your friends, family, lover. I know this is "ideally" a time to be celebrated with your loved ones. but life is not ideal, is it? it's just life. and if right now you are not feeling the love, the joy, or just don't have the headspace or social energy to engage , that's alright.

are finding comfort in simpler things like a TV show from the 90s or that book you first read at sixteen or that slice of strawberry cake or a random post like this you come across.

don't feel hopeful, encouraged, or excited for the new year. given everything that's happened in the last couple of years, on the macro and micro level, it's only natural for you to feel weary as well as wary. when the good things happen, when the healing happens, when things begin working in your favour over time, you will automatically feel all those things. it's okay if until then you choose to be neutral.

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tixdixl · 3 months ago

Text

Wishmaster's Concert - Event

Grab your battle jackets, your ear protection, and your tickets! It's time to ROCK!

Event details below the cut.

Welcome to Bald Mountain Arena, the largest performance arena in all of Twisted Wonderland! Located in the tallest mountain along the range of the Shaftlands rests this monumental landmark. Rumored to be the host of spectacular all-night events, Bald Mountain Arena is said to put on some of the most notable alternative rock and metal festivals in history! But they only do so every once in a blue moon.

Tonight, Bald Mountain Arena's Metal Festival is set to occur, hosting some of the most famous metal bands in all of Twisted Wonderland! Once the sun sets, the first band will take the stage. And with enough sets to last until dawn, the highlighted band, Wishmaster, along side UnderDark, Pixie Metal, Fighting Dragons, and Her Draconic Majesty, will make even the bones of the undead rise and shake!

Where do Yuu (you) fit in?

Thanks to Cater's eye on social media, Yuu and the crew managed to snag some tickets just in time! Everyone is planning to meet up at the Dark Mirror with plenty of time to find good spots in the crowd. They might even get a chance to grab a bite to eat - much to Grim's delight - should everyone arrive on time!

✨️✨️✨️

Event Banners by @ramshacklerumble

Additional Event Background

This event was heavily inspired by a combination of Chernabog's segment in Fantasia (1940), as well as the song "FantasMic" by Nightwish. The song, if you are unfamiliar, is a metal homage to Disney and many of it's iconic works. Referencing of course Fantasia, Peter Pan, Sleeping Beauty, the Black Cauldron, Pinocchio, and many others. (I highly recommend reading the lyrics, y'all. They are beautifully written.) If you need inspiration for this event, I definitely recommend taking a gander at those two inspirations.

The event consists of a lineup of various Disney inspired fake metal bands. The arena is a huge concert arena, with increased security, food trucks, and hydration stations. The crowd will absolutely form rowing lines, conga lines, and a fully realized mosh pit formed in the center below the stage. Glow sticks are permitted!

Cyril Zeman (created by @ramshacklerumble ) is the guest character for the event, and a Chernabog expy. He ia the face of the band Wishmaster, providing the masculine lead voice and lead guitar.

The Pop Music Club absolutely bought tickets for the concert. Even if this isn't Cater's vibe, he can't deny the virality that would come at taking photos for MagiCam. Lilia, of course, not only is eager to go, but he knows Cyril as an acquaintance. (It would be a crime for him NOT to show his support.) But more eager than any of the three to snag this once-in-a-life-time opportunity is Sebek. As described in his 100th Anniversary vignette, Sebek thrives in the concert scene, and will jump at any opportunity for a chance at "training". He knows that the audience here will bring their A game- so of course he has to rock even harder than the rest!

For additional lore on the bands, please check out this post!

Characters can engage in the audience, in whatever ways make sense. Fake bands are more than welcome to join the line up, and if you decide you want to create OCs to play in any of the fake bands, you are more than welcome to do so!

✨️✨️✨️

Event Rules

- This event is open to everyone!

- Submissions must be kept PG-13 or lower.

- No Alt. Right Symbology Permitted. No exceptions.

- OC, Yuusonas and Canon characters are all welcome!

- Yuusonas ENCOURAGED to be SSRs!

- Feel free to make card art, character designs, illustrations, comics, create Band Logos, write fics, create edits, or even submit music if your heart desires! Want to do something else entirely? GO FOR IT! Create as much as you'd like- there are no submission limitations.

- If you use any of the event assets (e.g. Background art or Band Logos) as provided by one of the event collaborators you MUST credit the artist in your post! (See below for details)

- Use the tag #Wishmaster's Concert and @ or tag me in the posts too! I’d love to see what everyone comes up with!

- To make this event as accessible as possible, I am offering the option to either have a deadline or no deadline:

For those who need a deadline: May 31st.

For those who prefer no deadline: No deadline

✨️✨️✨️

Dress Code - [Concert Wear]

Goth, punk, alt, and metal head fashion are recommended! But we understand concert wear takes many forms! If you need recommendations, here is some inspiration you might want to draw from!

With the help and courtesy of @ramshacklerumble @the-trinket-witch and @cyanide-latte , we are also permitting folks use the Logos that we created if artists would like to give their OCs band tees! Let's see who all your OCs came out to support!

Wishmaster Logo by @ramshacklerumble

UnderDark Logo by @tixdixl

Pixie Metal Logo by @the-trinket-witch

Fighting Dragons Logo by @the-trinket-witch

Her Draconic Majesty [HDM] Logo by @cyanide-latte

✨️✨️✨️

Background

If you would like to make an SR card for the event, please feel free to use this background (courtesy of @ramshacklerumble ):

✨️✨️✨️

EVENT INTRO FICLET by @tixdixl

EVENT INTRO FICLET by @cyanide-latte

EVENT FOOD DISCUSSION by @cyanide-latte

EVENT TWISTTUNE by @tixdixl

SSR CARDS:

Sebek Zigvolt (coming soon...)

Kingsley Tyr by @tixdixl

Copper Benoit by @cyanide-latte (coming soon...)

Gia Yugo by @ramshacklerumble

Allegra Mahalath by @revivemyreverie

Petunia Gardens by @thebluester2026

Akshara Mehra by @twistedtalestory

SR CARDS:

Lilia Vanrouge (coming soon...)

Kalim al Asim by @twstinginthewind

Oisín Anbás by @tixdixl (coming soon...)

Bobby Sherwood by @twstinginthewind || GROOVY

Alice 630 by @sinjaangels

Nkululeko Adrade by @thehollowwriter

Eugenio Hernandez by @the-trinket-witch

R CARDS:

Cater Diamond by @ramshacklerumble

Sorrel Madrigal by @ramshacklerumble

FAN FICS:

Sebek's Vignette by @tixdixl

Oisín's Vignette by @tixdixl

COMICS:

Shellfish Salad comic by @ramshacklerumble

ART AND ILLUSTRATIONS

Yuubeni by @bunniehunn

✨️✨️✨️

Tag list: @twstinginthewind @sunsmilu @elenauaurs @theleechyskrunkly @thehollowwriter

@twistedwonderlandshenanigans @twst-the-night-away @cyn-write @twstchaos @oseathepebble

@starry-night-rose @tinyvirgodoodle

#twst #twst fan event #Wishmaster's Concert #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fan event #sebek zigvolt #twst pop music club #pop music club #kalim al asim #lilia vanrouge #cater diamond

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belli5 · 26 days ago

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⌗ . ᵎᵎ ⸝⸝ Draft Night .ᐟ ೀC.B⁹⁸

You’re with Connor on draft night—helping him get ready, cheering him on when his name gets called, and ending the night back at the hotel just the two of you.

˚₊· ᥫ᭡ Connor Bedard x fem!reader ➜ Fluff. Note: This isn’t proofread (yet). All the requests I have, I promise I’ll write them once I finish my other two fics 😁 masterlist

The hotel suite was busier than usual, but there was a softness to the chaos. Camera cords wound across the carpet like nervous energy, soft lights glowed in corners, and a hum of quiet conversation filled the air.

Connor stood in the center of it all—dressed in a blue suit, collar slightly askew, a deep crease forming between his brows as he stared into the mirror

You sat cross legged on the couch near the window, watching him fuss with his tie for the third time. His mom, Melanie, was in the chair nearby, her phone open to a camera roll full of baby pictures she’d proudly shown the media crew earlier.

Tom, his dad, leaned against the wall, chatting with one of the producers. And Madisen, his sister, was sitting on the bed behind Connor, while he got recorded obviously.

You smiled, arms resting on the back of the couch.“You’re gonna unravel that tie if you keep pulling on it,” you said, just loud enough for him to hear.

Connor looked at you through the mirror, gave a nervous chuckle, then sighed and let his hands drop. “It’s too tight.”

“It’s perfect,” Melanie called over from her seat, her voice warm and motherly. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”

“He looks like he’s about to faint,” Madisen teased.

Connor shook his head, but there was a twitch of a smile on his lips. “Thanks for the support, guys.”

You stood and crossed the room to him, gently brushing his hand aside. “Here. Let me.”

He tipped his chin up without hesitation, trusting you completely. You took your time—flattening the collar, smoothing the silk of his tie, adjusting it just right against the top button of his shirt.

“There,” you whispered. “You’re good. Now stop touching it.”

His eyes met yours and lingered. You could feel the tension in his shoulders, the subtle bounce of his knee even while standing still. He was nervous—really nervous. And he didn’t say much when he got like that. Just quiet, serious, eyes flicking to the clock every few minutes.

“You doing okay?” you asked, fingertips brushing his lapel.

He nodded. “I will be.”

“You will be even better when you hear your name called,” you said gently.

From the bed, Madisen chimed in, “Probably first. Let’s be real.”

A producer standing near the suite’s kitchenette laughed quietly. “We’re about to start interviews if everyone’s comfortable. Just some quick sit-downs, all casual. Mom, dad, Madisen—if we can get each of you other side of the room for a moment, that’d be perfect.”

Melanie stood immediately and smoothed her blouse. “Of course.”

As each family member took their turn, the camera crew subtly repositioned lights and tripods, working efficiently in the space. Connor sat back down on the armrest of the couch while his family spoke one at a time, their voices soft and full of pride.

You sat beside him, your knee lightly brushing his. Every now and then, he’d glance at the floor, then at the clock, then at the window.

You nudged his arm with your elbow. “Hey. Deep breaths.”

“I know,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just—everything’s starting to hit me now.”

You nodded. “I get it. But this moment? Right here? You’ve worked so hard for this.”

Before he could respond, one of the producers turned toward you with a kind smile. “Would you mind answering a question or two as well?” she asked, stepping a little closer. “You’re Connor’s—?”

“Girlfriend,” you said, your voice a little smaller than expected. You hadn’t thought they’d want to interview you.

Connor looked at you, then back at the producer. “Is that okay?” he asked you directly. You nodded, giving him a tiny smile before the camera team gently waved you over to where Madisen and Melanie had just been standing.

They clipped a small mic to your shirt and angled the lights, keeping everything quick and casual.

“Alright, Y/N,” the interviewer began with a warm tone, “can you tell us a little about what it’s been like watching Connor go through this journey?”

You smiled, gently fidgeting with your hands. “It’s been… amazing, honestly. I’ve seen how much he’s put into this—how many hours he’s trained, how focused he’s been, how hard he’s pushed himself even when he was exhausted. And he never brags about it. He’s just really grounded. It’s inspiring.”

“What’s something you admire most about him?”

You didn’t even need to think. “His heart. Like, yeah—he’s incredibly talented, and obviously that’s why we’re here tonight. But it’s the way he cares about the people around him. He’s kind, and thoughtful, and way more humble than people realize. He’s always putting others before himself.”

Connor was watching you now from the couch, one leg bouncing, arms crossed. His expression had softened. You could see the flush creeping up the sides of his neck.

“And how do you think he’s feeling right now?” the producer asked with a smile.

You laughed gently. “He’s trying to act calm, but he’s 100% panicking about his tie and whether his socks match his suit. He does this thing where he keeps fixing the same thing over and over when he’s nervous. I think the reality of tonight is sinking in—but that’s normal. He cares so much.”

The crew laughed softly, and the woman gave you a grateful nod. “Thank you, that was lovely.”

You gave a quick smile and stepped back toward the couch where Connor was sitting. He was giving you a look—a half smile, slightly amused but definitely embarrassed.

“Thanks for telling them about the socks,” he said.

You grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his hair. “Hey, you do look amazing.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

His dad, Tom, stood near the mirror, where the camera was filming, so Connor went over to his dad giving him a small compliment and joking around. Melanie giving all of us four out a poker pin in a reminder of his grandpa, that he’s there with us.

Now the moment was coming, and it was time to leave. Connor stood slowly. He adjusted the sleeves of his suit, took a deep breath, and straightened his shoulders. The nerves were still there, buzzing under the surface, but they didn’t own him.

He turned to his family—hugging his mom tightly, clapping hands with his dad, letting Madisen squeeze him extra hard for good luck. Then he looked at you.

Without a word, he reached out and laced his fingers through yours. You squeezed back, anchoring him.

The night had just begun, and there would be lights, cameras, interviews, chaos. But for a few seconds, it was just this: his heartbeat under your palm, the soft hum of his name waiting to be called, and you—by his side through it all.

The arena was buzzing —bright lights overhead, voices echoing in every direction, rows of people in perfectly tailored suits and glittering dresses, all lined up in elegant seats, cameras perched like hawks along the edges. Everything shimmered with possibility.

You sat tightly beside Connor, shoulder pressed gently to his, your hand tucked into his where no one could see. His family flanked the rest of the row—his dad on the other side of him, then his sister and then his mom. The five of you sat as one—tethered together, a bundle of nerves and pride.

Connor hadn’t said much in the last few minutes, just kept glancing around, lips pressed into a thin line, eyes flicking to the stage where the NHL logo loomed large above the podium.

You could feel the tension in his hand—warm, a little clammy, fingers flexing now and then like he needed to physically hold himself together.

You leaned just a bit closer. “Your tie’s still perfect,” you whispered, teasing gently. That got a twitch of a smile out of him.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “I think my heart’s gonna explode.”

You squeezed his hand, grounding him. “Well, try to hold it together for five more minutes.”

He exhaled through a nervous laugh. “I’ll try.”

From the stage, a familiar voice rang out. “We would like to say hi to all of the Blackhawks fans back in Chicago at the salt shed. The Blackhawk fans here tonight and all the Blackhawks fans watching around the world.”

The man on the stage continued—“And with the first overall selection in the 2023 NHL draft, the Chicago Blackhawks are very proud to select from the Regina pats of the western hockey league—Connor Bedard!”

The crowd around you burst into applause, voices rising, cameras flashing, lights refocusing. You turned instantly to look at him.

You watched as it slowly registered—the words settling like sunlight in his chest. His shoulders dropped, like a weight he’d carried for years was finally, finally lifted.

His dad pulled him into a hug, his sister right behind him tugging him into a proud hug and then his mom pulling him into a hug, congratulating him, just like everyone else around.

And then he turned to you. His eyes were shining—not just with adrenaline, but something deeper. He reached for you, pulling you toward him, pressing a quick but full kiss to your lips.

It made your breath catch—partly because of how fiercely he kissed you, and partly because every camera in the arena was on him. On you.

Your face flushed instantly. He pulled back with a soft smile, and pulling you back into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Your heart fluttering. “For what?”

“For being here. For everything.” You felt your cheeks burning, eyes darting briefly toward the camera crew stationed just a few feet away—zoom lenses and bright lights and all.

Another round of applause broke out as someone from the team staff ushered him gently toward the stage.

You barely had time to recover before Melanie reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Oh my God,” she whispered, wiping her eyes. “He did it.”

You nodded, your voice cracking softly. “He really did.”

The whole moment felt like a blur—the cheers, the standing ovation, the voice over the speaker welcoming him to the league.

Connor walked up to the stage, shaking hands, slipping on the jersey, the bright red and black practically glowing under the lights. His name on the screen. His future rewritten.

You watched it all through a haze of pride.

He looked older standing up there. Taller, somehow. More sure of himself. And yet, when his eyes scanned the crowd and landed on you again, there was that same boyish glint you’d seen a thousand times before—pure awe, humble joy.

He did the interviews backstage, a flurry of cameras and questions, microphones pushed close and everyone wanting a piece of him. His mom and dad were whisked away for photos with the organization.

But you stayed in your seat for a moment longer, heart still racing.

When he returned—finally—jersey on, hair slightly messy from the media whirlwind, cheeks a little flushed, he found you still sitting right where he left you.

And he came straight to you. You stood as he approached, and before either of you could speak, he wrapped both arms around your waist and pulled you against him.

“I’ve been waiting to do that again,” he murmured, burying his face in your neck for a second, his voice barely audible over the buzz around you.

“You kissed me in front of… like… the entire NHL,” you teased, your arms curling around his middle.

He leaned back just enough to look at you, eyes warm. “Yeah. I wanted you in the memory. Not just behind the scenes.”

You smiled, breath hitching slightly. “Well. You got your wish.”

“Think it’ll be in the highlight reel?” he teased.

“Oh, definitely,” you laughed. “And you’re gonna hear about it for the rest of your career.”

Another wave of photos was called for—the whole family now, center stage. Connor grabbed your hand again and brought you with him.

“No way,” you whispered. “I’m not—”

“Yes you are,” he interrupted. “You’re part of this.”

You stood by his mom, understanding that both of his parents wanted to be on both of his sides. Madisen next to you. You weren’t the spotlight. But you were in it, with him. Where he wanted you.

Eventually, the night began to wind down—the press cleared out, the buzz started to settle, and the suite at the hotel felt like a much-needed retreat.

The door clicked softly behind you as you and Connor stepped into the quiet hotel room, the energy of the night finally giving way to something still and slow.

He let out a breath like he’d been holding it all evening and kicked off his dress shoes with zero ceremony, dropping onto the edge of the bed.

His red and black Blackhawks jersey freshly gifted, still smelling like the team room — was draped over one of the chairs, a little reminder that everything had changed.

You padded over and sat beside him, your knees gently bumping his.

Connor leaned his shoulder into yours, still in his suit, tie a little crooked now, hair tousled from endless photos. “That was insane,” he mumbled, like he still hadn’t fully processed it.

You smiled, reaching up to loosen the rest of his tie. “You handled it like a pro.”

“I kissed you on national TV,” he added, cheeks tinted pink.

You snorted, curling your fingers through his. “Yeah. You did.”

He looked over at you, a little sheepish, a lot proud. “Sorry if that was too much.”

“It wasn’t,” you said softly. “It was perfect. Just.. caught me off guard.”

He squeezed your hand. “Me too.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, letting the quiet wrap around you. The city lights spilled in through the window, casting soft gold shadows on the floor. It felt like the world had slowed down, just for the two of you.

Connor stood up suddenly and grabbed the Blackhawks jersey from the chair. “Wait—hang on.”

You raised a brow as he walked back and gently pulled it over your head, the hem falling to your mid-thigh.

“There,” he said with a grin, stepping back to admire his work. “Now you look like a future WAG.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but hugged the fabric close. “I look like your number one fan.”

He stepped close again, hands settling at your waist. “You are my number one fan.”

#belli5 #connor bedard #connor bedard x y/n #connor bedard x reader #x reader #chicago blackhawks #hockey #nhl hockey #nhl players #nhl #nhl imagine #cb98 #cb98 x reader

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lightsoutmatthews · 1 month ago

Note

hey!!! can you do auston matthews meeting reader for the first time at a dog park? he’s with felix of course and reader is with her dog :)

Should I have done some work for my classes instead of writing this? Probably, but here we are anyways. Enjoy!! 😌

Dogs know best – Auston Matthews

It was one of those spring afternoons in Toronto where the sun actually felt warm for once. The dog park was busier than usual, probably because people were desperate to be outside after months of snow, slush, grey skies and cold.

You had your dog´s leash wrapped around your wrist while she sniffed around, occasionally darting off toward whatever caught her attention, still staying close enough and on the leash so you could make sure to stop her whenever necessary.

As you watched her stroll about, you were scrolling through your phone half an eye on her when she suddenly took off in a blur, tail wagging like crazy. An unusual occurrence, knowing she didn’t have the habit of running off without making sure you were right behind her every few steps. Codependency your friends had titled it.

You followed her with your eyes and saw her heading straight for another dog. A black and white doodle who looked like he just walked off a movie set, dressed in a Gucci bandana from what you could make out through the distance.

His owner, dressed in joggers, a hoodie, a cap pulled low and sunglasses, was crouched beside him, adjusting it while making sure the collar wasn’t on too tightly.

Your dog didn’t hesitate. She barreled right up to them, tail wagging so hard her back legs almost lifted off the ground.

“Sorry about her,” you said, walking over quickly. “She gets excited.”

The guy looked up, recognition immediately flashing through you. You knew that face. Everyone in Toronto knew that face, even with the cap and sunglasses.

“No worries,” he replied. “Felix loves the attention.”

You tried to play it cool, like you didn’t exactly know the dog’s name from seeing it floating around social media. “Felix, huh?”

He nodded and gave the doodle a quick scratch behind the ears. “Yeah. He´s used to the chaos.”

You crouched down to untangle your dog´s leash from where she had wrapped it around Felix´s legs. “Looks like they´ve decided to be best friends already.”

He smiled, just slightly, if you wouldn’t have looked at his face in that exact moment you would have missed it. “They´ve got good instincts.”

There was a short pause. You figured most people would probably freak out a little in your position. Auston Matthews, superstar center for the Toronto Maple Leafs, just casually hanging out at the dog park with his Doodle.

But the vibe didn’t seem like that. He didn’t seem to want attention, probably having enough of it whenever he was on the ice, and you didn’t feel like giving it to him.

“I´m Auston,” he said, holding out a hand after a second.

You took it. “I know,” slipped out of your mouth, a frown forming on your lips at you exposing yourself after all. “I mean, I´m not a crazy fan or anything,” you added quickly. “Just you know, it’s hard not to living in the city.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that tends to happen.”

You both stood there for a minute, watching your dog’s tumble around the grass, chasing and dodging each other like they had known each other forever.

“She´s yours?” he asked eventually.

“Yeah. Her name is Rosie. I rescued her a few months ago. I would love to tell you what breed she is but according to the shelter it’s a bit of everything, probably part kangaroo with the way she jumps on people.”

He grinned. “Felix is the same. Acts like he´s big and bad whenever we´re outside but back home he´s the biggest softie you can imagine. He couldn’t hurt a fly even if he tried.”

“She´s a menace around squirrels especially. Has to be the shepherd in her or something,” you laughed. “But she probably couldn’t hurt one if she saw one running around either.”

After that the quiet returned, both of you focused on watching the dogs again. It was surprisingly normal, given who you were talking to.

“Do you come here a lot?” you asked after a while.

He shrugged. “When I can. Depends on my schedule most times. I live close by and it´s one of the better parks in the city.”

Rosie barked and started sprinting in circles, baiting Felix into chasing her. He took the challenge immediately, legs working overtime.

You both laughed at them.

“They´re gonna be out cold tonight,” you chuckled.

“Thank God,” Auston muttered. “He gets a little crazy when he doesn’t get his energy out. Chewed through one of my sneakers just last week.”

“Rookie move,” you laughed. “Gotta hide the expensive stuff.”

His face turned into a frown. “Yeah, I learned that the hard way.”

It was weird, how easy it was to talk to him. He didn’t act like someone that was used to being in the spotlight. If anything, he seemed relieved you weren’t asking for a selfie or autograph or started to talk to him about the season and his stats.

You talked about dogs. Training tricks that didn’t work. The worst things they had chewed up. The best dog food brands. Nothing about hockey.

Eventually, the dogs wore themselves out and trotted back toward you both, panting, tongues hanging out, clearly proud of themselves.

“Guess that´s our cue,” he said, clipping Felix´s leash back on.

You did the same with Rosie. She leaned into your leg like she was ready to collapse on the spot.

“Hey,” Auston caught your attention again, looking a little uncertain for the first time since you started talking. “Do you come here often?”

You tried not to smile. “Yeah, I try to come a few times a week, depends on work.”

He nodded, glanced down at Felix, then back at you. “Cool. Maybe we´ll see each other again.”

“Maybe,” you replied sheepishly.

He hesitated a beat before speaking again. “Do you-,“ he stopped, adjusted Felix´s leash like it gave him something to do. “Would it be weird if I asked for your number?”

You blinked, starring at him for a beat too long before answering. “What?”

“Not in, like, a weird way. Just… uhm… this was nice. It´s kind of rare for me. Talking like this. No cameras or anyone asking questions or for a selfie or an autograph.”

You considered for a second. Then pulled your phone out of your pocket.

“Sure,” you said. “Why not.”

You handed it over, and he typed something in. A second later his phone vibrated in his pocket. Seemingly with a text from yours.

When he handed your phone back to you, you saw the name he had given himself in your contacts. Auston – dog park.

“Dog park?” you laughed.

He gave you a half-smile. “So you remember who it is.”

“Right, because there is so many people named Auston out there,” you continued to laugh.

Felix started tugging toward the exit, apparently ready to go home and collapse.

“I should take him before he tries to lead me into traffic,” Auston said.

“Rosie is not far behind. She will probably fall asleep on the sidewalk if we don’t start moving soon.”

You walked with him toward the edge of the park, then paused at the gate.

“Well,” you said, giving Rosie´s leash a little tug. “See you around?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he replied, a small smile tucking at his lips.

Then he walked away, Felix trotting happily beside him, leaving you standing there with your sleepy dog and a smile you didn’t even try to hide.

You glanced down at your phone again, rereading the name at the top of the screen, noticing the message he typed out to himself for the first time. Let’s schedule a playdate for the dogs soon. You chuckled. It sounded like a reminder to himself.

Rosie leaned into your leg, tired and satisfied. You leaned down, giving her head a quick scratch.

“Alright, girl,” you mumbled. “Looks like we made some famous friends today.”

She wagged her tail once, then let out a deep, dramatic sigh like she just finished the hardest workday of her life.

You took that as a sign to really get going.

As you walked home, the city around you busy as ever, you caught yourself wondering when you might see them again. Maybe next week. Mayber sooner. You weren’t familiar with the Leafs schedule. Either way, it didn’t feel like this was the one and only time you would.

Not even close.

#auston matthews #toronto maple leafs #auston matthews imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #auston matthews x reader #nhl imagine

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zineobiology · 1 month ago

Text

Welcome to the Zine O’Biology Vol.2!

A multi-fandom Star Trek Zine.

Whats New? This time we are organizing the artist/writer partnerships like a bang! We want to avoid some confusion from last time and think this will be best way to do that.

Do you have strong opinions on Vulcan fra’als, Cardassian tails, or how the heck Trill symbionts reproduce? We want to hear from you!

The Zine O’Biology is a fictional comparative xenobiology academic journal set in the Star Trek universe. If you’ve always wanted to wax eloquent for up to 3000 words about your theories on alien biology, welcome to your new home!

We want all your theories about all your favorite aliens! This is a friendly but competitive academic journal where the content of every paper is a little bit suspicious (is this paper based on rumor or fact? What is the methodology?) and some competing authors leave snarky comments on one another’s work. So just like a real academic journal, except ours features the Great Green Anthurium.

We welcome xenobiology articles on all Star Trek aliens from all series!

The final format will be a PDF that you can scroll at your leisure or print at home in order to have a physical copy of the Zine. (This way there is no money involved.)

--SEEKING SUBMISSIONS FOR--

Alien biology articles

Alien biology artwork

In-Universe advertisements

Letters to the editor

ALIEN BIOLOGY ARTICLES

How do Andorian genders work? Are Cardassians actually lizards? Why do Klingons have so many redundant organs? What’s the biological purpose of Bajoran nose ridges? What’s the best cement mix for emergency surgery on a Horta?

You’ve been pondering alien biology for years. This is your chance to infodump all your favorite theories to an eager audience of your fellow nerds!

Articles will be separated into two categories: reproductive biology or general biology. Yes, we also want all your theories on what every species is packing downstairs…and how they use it.

Journal articles should be fun and engaging, but also written in your interpretation of a pseudo-academic style, since this is a highly respected Federation xenobiology journal. If you want to keep things more lighthearted and less academic, check out the section on Letters to the Editor.

ALIEN BIOLOGY ARTWORK

If you have independent illustrations about alien biology we would love to see them! If you would like to provide illustrations for one of our journal articles, we will open up bidding so that you can find the perfect article for your ideas!

JOURNAL ADVERTISEMENTS

Even in a post-need future, academic journals will need a little extra funding. Submit your ads for Ferengi Oomox Creme, Self Sealing Stem Bolts, Gently Used Federation Technology, and, of course, “reproductive aids.” The weirder the better! Have fun with it!

All art needs to be printable at high resolution

ART Sizes:

Full page: 4.5"w x 7.5"h

Column: 2.21"w x 7.5"h

Half Page: 4.5"w x 3.75"h

Square: 2.21"w x 2.18"h

Banner: 4.5"w x 1"h

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR

Do you have a great idea, but it’s not enough to fill out a 3000 word article? Submit it as a “reaction” to a previous journal article. Feel free to lay into a mythical researcher who does NOT understand why their biological theory is wrong and yours is right!

Max length 1500 words. Enjoy making these plenty frothy!

WANT TO GET INVOLVED, BUT YOU’RE NOT A WRITER OR ARTIST?

WE NEED:

Graphic designers to help with Zine layout

Social media promoters

Alien art and article wranglers (ie: get your fannish friends involved!)

--HOW TO GET INVOLVED--

Fill out the Art or Writing Google Form letting us know your interests or reach out to the Editor in Chief at [email protected]

DEADLINES:

July 15, 2025: Last date for writer applications

August 18, 2025: Last date for Artists applications

August 30th: Writer drafts due. Claims begin.

October 30, 2025: All art, advertising, and journal submissions are due

We hope to have the Zine O’Biology ready for your enjoyment by New Year’s Eve 2025/2026. We all have full time jobs and lives, so that date may change depending on the volume of submissions.

FAQ can be found here.

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destinedfordiapers · 3 months ago

Text

Lavender Haze

“Are you ready, baby?”

You shifted nervously, twiddling your thumbs. You wanted this for as long as you could remember.

All you have to do is say yes.

“It’s okay to be nervous, little one. Mommy knows it’s the biggest little decision you’ll ever make.”

She wasn’t wrong. The post is written. If you hit send your life will never be the same. Everyone will know the truth.

You spit out your paci, letting it dangle from the clip. Your mouth is far too dry for it, anyway.

“S-scared, Mommy.”

“I know, honey. It takes a lot of courage to take a leap of faith, doesn’t it? But aren’t you ready to let go and embrace who you are?”

You nod meekly.

“Baby, look at me. Mommy will never, ever let anything happen to her special boy. You know that, right? Who cares what anyone thinks? You have Mommy! You’re safe with Mommy, wrapped in her love.”

“P-promise?”

“Pinky promise, hun. You belong to Mommy. You’re mine, forever and always. Mommy will take care of your every need and fix every problem. I’ll protect your sweet innocence from the big bad world, I promise. You’ll never have to pretend to be a big boy ever again.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, though you can’t tell if it’s from excitement—or fear.

One simple yes—just one—and you’ll never have to make another decision ever again.

You’ll get everything you ever wanted.

So why won’t your brain let your mouth say the word?

“All you need to do is surrender to Mommy, baby. Let the world know you are Mommy’s. Wholly and irrevocably mine. Mommy will take care of the rest. Your utter dependence on me is the greatest gift you can ever give me.”

“It is?”

“Of course it is! I love you, baby. More than you could ever understand. Do you know how proud I am to be your Mommy? How hard it is to hide the best part of you from everyone? I am the luckiest woman in the world!”

She’s proud of you?

You feel yourself stand a bit taller.

“Aren’t you tired of living a lie? Babies shouldn’t be going to work! Or paying bills. You’re too small for any responsibility. This isn’t the life you deserve! Let Mommy give you the life you always wanted. As Mommy’s forever baby.”

“Mommy will be your whole world. You’ll be free, baby. No more cell phones, no more social media, no adult TV, no more doomscrolling. Nothing but the joyful innocence of your nursery. Nothing but cuddles, bubble baths, and cartoons.”

“Mommy will take care of everything. Everything. You’ll be Mommy’s baby—and only Mommy’s baby. Mommy will keep your diapie clean, your belly full of nummies, and swaddle you in your crib every evening. Just like the baby you are.”

A smile spreads across your face, only to falter soon after.

“But Mommy…it’s not fair! You have to do everything and I…I...”

She walks over to you, wrapping you in a tight hug. The seat of your diaper crinkles as she rubs it.

“Sweetie, I want this. Nothing in this world makes me happier than caring for you. All I need is to hear your laughter as I blow raspberries on your tummy. To smell the baby powder wherever you waddle. To see the pure joy in your eyes as you live your authentic life!”

Tears trickle down your face. You instinctively hide your face.

“No, baby. Don’t hide your tears from Mommy. You’re my baby. Babies cry. You don’t need to be ashamed of your feelings anymore.”

You sniffle, eyes full of tears. “S-sorry, Mommy…”

“It’s okay, sweetie. Just remember you’re not a big boy anymore. That means no more big-boy expectations. Mommy expects you to behave like the baby you are, silly!”

“Hehe, okay Mommy!”

“Good boy. Now, are those happy tears or sad tears, honey?”

“Happy!”

“Awww, just what Mommy wanted to hear! Now, baby. Can you be a big boy for just a little longer? I need you to understand that I want this as much as you. I will never abandon you. That I will always be there for you. Can you say, ‘Yes, Mommy’ if you understand?”

You smile at her, cheeks glistening with tears and a small snot bubble forming.

“Yes, Mommy!”

“Good boy! And you understand that once we hit send, you’ll never be a big boy again? You’ll listen to everything Mommy says and trust her to do what’s best for you?”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“You’re okay with giving up every adult privilege you’ve ever had—no exceptions? No more car, no more bars, no more sports, no more sex? Giving your privacy and independence to Mommy? And saying bye-bye to the potty, forever?”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“Okay, baby. As long as you understand there’s no turning back! You want that, right?”

“I want that, Mommy! I love you!”

Mommy's eyes fill with tears as she hugs you again.

“I’m the luckiest Mommy in the world! I have my baby boy!”

“YAYAYAYA!”

“You’re so cute, little one! Ready to push send?”

“YEAH! PUSH IT! PUSH IT!”

“Okay, honey, here we go! You’re new life starts…now!”

Mommy never let you see what people commented on the post—but you couldn’t care less.

You didn’t have to hide anymore. You didn’t have to pretend. You were Mommy’s baby. Now and forever.

Mommy knows best, after all!

#diaper captions #cg/l

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reddthekingg · 3 months ago

Text

Turns out I don't CARE. Have my big-ass Byler post:

Mike and El were never romantic. Let me explain. (Seasons 1-4)

Big Byler-centric Mike/eleven analysis from my slightly media literate ass.

(disclaimer: this is all just my opinion!!!!! you dont have to agree with me at all, and if you have any suggestions/edits or points you think are wrong for X Y Z reasons, tell me in the comments!!!! I like hearing other peoples views on things :D also my apologies if this doesnt read well, ive been sitting on it for a couple weeks now so ive been writing in little blips every once in awhile)

Season 1

From the beginning, Mike had pressures to be with El. He never began to exhibit romantic behaviours towards her until after Lucas suggested he has feelings for her. He only kisses her after Nancy assumes he has a crush on her.

Children, especially at such a young age, are impressionable. This applies to both Mike and El.

Mike is being told by multiple people in his life to pursue a romantic relationship with a girl he met only a week or so prior. A girl, mind you, he only wants to keep around when she proves herself useful to him when searching for Will. Correct me if I'm wrong but I'm pretty sure Mike calls her a machine at one point. Doesn't exactly seem like the basis for a crush, does it?

As for El, she's just escaped the lab she was raised in and has met the first people ever outside of that environment (excluding Benny, of course). I don't like comparing El to an animal, but she's reminiscent of a baby duck. Baby ducks imprint on the first people they see. For her, it's Mike. El does not have the same pressures from everyone else to be romantic with Mike, in fact she's quite ready to be his sister, as she so states. The only pressure of romance she gets is from Mike himself with the kiss.

There is one whole scene before they kiss that implies a bit of romance where there in a bathroom together and Mike says she's still pretty without hair + makeup. However, neither party really seems interested in it.

(Little thing to note about this scene! The use of the word pretty. It can be argued that Mike meant it romantically, but I'd say otherwise. In Stranger Things, specific words have meaning and we're told that they do. Think about the word crazy. Through lines in the show and posts from people who have worked on it, we know that crazy = love. Where am I going with this?

El calls Billy's mother pretty. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the word pretty hasn't been used anywhere else other than here and with El and Mike. We can safely assume El doesn't have feelings for Billy's mother, so if the assumption that crazy = love, can we assume that pretty does not have romantic connotations? Maybe it's a reach but I thought it was worth pointing out.)

All of this to say, in Season 1, their "relationship", and I use that word sparingly, is built off of pressures from Nancy and Lucas on Mike's side, and El assuming that's just what happens since it's what's happening to her. This is on top of the trauma bond El and Mike have.

Season 2

I think what solidified their decision was El going into the Upside Down. If all was well and El didn't have to leave the group and Season 1 was the whole story, I think their relationship would have played out very differently. Think about "absence makes the heart grow fonder" and all that bollocks. I think that because of the year apart and how much they missed one another, they became closer for it and mistook it for a romantic longing. That leads to their reunion in Season 2.

However, think about it. Typically with romantic couples in media and all it's different forms, when reunited after a long time being apart, they normally share a kiss? Or... at least just seem romantic?

Look, maybe it's just me, but this doesn't read as romantic.

Obviously, the two are bonded together, so the scene is emotional. I don't like when a lot of Bylers imply that Mike doesn't care about El at all, because he clearly does. The two have an incredibly strong bond due to trauma and just trusting one another. Doesn't mean it's romantic.

Then the Snow Ball. Not much to say on the matter because, yeah, I definitely think there is analysis to be done on it, but personally, this is a scene I don't have an explanation for. Other than Mike pining yearning and longing for Will.

(Very quick and not important thing to note. I started reading Darkness on the Edge of Town, Hopper's book, and it's set right after the Snow Ball, after Christmas, and I noticed something.

''You manage to raise Mike yet?'' El sighed ... He watched as she headed back to the couch and picked up the hefty rectangle of her new walkie-talkie, holding it out to him, like he could somehow conjure up her friends out of thin air.

Just thought it was interesting how Hopper mentioned Mike and then went on to say El's friends, considering this was after the Snow Ball and after their kiss.)

Fast forward to:

Season 3

In terms of El, this is where my view point of her romantic feelings becomes more disprovable, but I'm going to push forward anyway.

In the story now, everything is normal. No more monsters, the gate is closed, all is well and our kids can go back to being normal kids. Enter Mike Wheeler and El Hopper making out. Actually the most uncomfortable scenes to watch in the whole show. Let me talk about why it's happening.

Mike and Eleven, up until now, have not had your usual relationship. They've been seperate, battling monsters and have not had a moments peace since meeting. My opinion on why they're so close at the start of this season is because it's expected, same as most things about their relationship.

I know I sound like a broken record using that excuse for the majority of aspects about their relationship, but I'm doing it because the majority of aspects about their relationship can be explained with that reasoning.

For Mike, his attempt at living up to the expectations set for him is a lot easier to think about in terms of why he's doing it.

He was raised in your typical nuclear household, a mother and a father and 2 sisters. Think about the time period. The AIDs crisis was at a peak, there was a massive stigma around it all. I've spoken to my mum before about it all (she would've been the same age as the main 4 ST kids during that time) and she explained that there was this huge fear around AIDs. Being openly queer was not the norm, nor was it socially acceptable, nearly completely frowned upon. Films, TV and books portrayed romances about men and women and nothing else. Think about a young boy who has even the inkling that he might be gay. Everything at the time presented to this hypothetical boy tells him that he is wrong. Think about Will, his own father calling him slurs because he's not like every other boy.

Taking the assumption that Mike is in fact gay rather than bi or straight and placing him in the position of said hypothetical boy, what do you think the outcome would be? Because despite what some Milevens will say, it is not that Mike would accept himself fully and never would have dated El in the first place. It leaves us with a boy who is forced into a life of lying to himself and others, making moves to conceal his true identity in hopes of fooling other people and most importantly, fooling himself.

I am a firm believer that Mike suffers from compulsory heterosexuality, or comphet.

''Compulsory heterosexuality, often shortened to comphet, is the theory that heterosexuality is assumed and enforced upon people by a patriarchal, allonormative, and heteronormative society.''

I completely disagree when people say Mike used El as his beard (a person who is used, knowingly or unknowingly, as a date, romantic partner [boyfriend or girlfriend], or spouse either to conceal infidelity or to conceal one's sexual orientation) from day one. I believe that, while it may not be true, both parties did believe they shared romantic feelings for the other, because it was expected of them that they did. Mike, his whole life, saw his parents, kids at school, people in shows, games, everywhere, be a boy and a girl in love. And he met a girl. So, logically, he should like her. Right? But he doesn't. And because he's never had any past experiences, he can't tell the difference between romantic and platonic attraction. All he knows is what he's ''supposed to do.''

El is a bit easier to explain.

Think about the baby duck analogy from earlier. Mike is the first (technically second after Benny but shhhh) person out-with the lab to show her kindness. She has bonded to him, and Mike initiated a kiss between them. Romance is, obviously, not something she's ever dealt with in her life. It is a concept entirely foreign to her and it continues to be after her and Mike separate. So think, once she gets to Hopper's in Season 2, what is the only thing she has to entertain herself?

Television.

It can be pretty safely assumed she watched her fair share of trashy teen romcom movies as well as dramatic romance movies, all pieces of media that showed her the ''traditional'' route that a girl and a boy will take in their romantic journey. At this point, her and Mike have kissed, so in watching these movies, they teach her brain what are the ''natural next steps'' for her and Mike.

I don't think I'm explaining my point well, so if you need further clarification, let me know. It's difficult to explain but it's generally the same logic I applied to Mike (assuming he is, in fact, gay). His whole childhood, he see's boys and girls being in love and assumes thats what he should be doing. It's similar for El. She sees couples in love and being happy and assumes thats what her and Mike should be doing.

When you apply all this to Season 3, things become a little bit clearer in why they're so (uncomfortably) close. Their whole ''relationship'' was taken up with saving the world or saving each other and other people, this is the first time things are normal and they're expected to be, well... normal.

This really applies to the whole season. There are only 2 more key Mileven moments I want to touch on from this season which means I'll be excluding the rain fight. I'm doing this because while obviously the scene offers a huge insight into Mike's character, the focus this post is specifically around his and El's feelings about each other, so I want to focus on scenes in which they're together.

Now:

Oh boy! I'd like to point out 2 major points here.

One, just because Mike loves El, which I do not doubt at all, no where does he or the show specify that in this scene he meant it romantically.

Two, who are the only other couple that said the L-word?

Yeah.

Not only were Stancy the only other couple to say ''I love you'' to one another, they're the only other couple to use said ''I love you'' as a driving force in their relationship ark. And that driving force drove their relationship... into the ground!

We have multiple canonical couples in the show that have never uttered the L-word to each other but we have scenes between those pairs that leave no room for doubt about how they feel.

Just saying, it's interesting that arguably the biggest couple of the show are paralleled to one of the weakest and worst couples in the show. Meanwhile Mike and Will have parallels with Jonathan and Nancy, a couple which value one another and work better than Stancy could have ever hoped.

My last analysis about Season 3 is one of my favourite in terms of Mike.

El tells mike she loves him, and kisses him.

I'm sure every Byler has heard this scene been picked to pieces about Mike, so I'll keep it brief.

Mike has his eyes open, and as another user pointed out (I can't remember who, sorry!!), seems to be pulling away from the kiss, he is very clearly not kissing her back, and just seems... confused and disinterested. All great signs that he absolutely loves his girlfriend back, right? ...right?

As for El, cast your minds back to what I said before about her watching cheesy romcom movies. What is the most common trope in almost all romance movies? The big love confession. El knows Mike loves her (romantically or not is to be debated, I made my side clear) and her primary source of knowledge of what happens in relationships is through what she sees in movies and television, which in my mind is what lead her to give Mike this grand declaration of love (well, not grand, but you get the gist). In her mind, it is what's expected.

El is creating a relationship out of idealistic movies and (saying this very bluntly) has not stopped to consider if it's something she actually wants rather than what she thinks she wants. Obviously, I'm assuming a lot with that statement, but the evidence to back it up does exist.

Max is a wonderful influence on El during Season 3, teaching her to think for herself and be someone that she wants to be. And what is one of the first big decisions El makes during this journey? To break up with Mike. I'll concede in the fact that, yes, the breakup was influenced by Max's advice, but it's a decision El made herself, even if she ended up going back on it.

Time for Mike's gayest season of all!

Season 4

(I'm going to concede slightly here, I don't really know how to explain most of El's feelings here. So, this section is going to be centred around Mike's feelings towards El. Please drop some El analysis in my asks/DMs/comments to include and I'll make sure to credit you in the post!)

The season begins with a letter from El to Mike and we see him reading it. When called upon by Nancy, Mike crumples up El's letter and throws it to the ground. Compare this to all the letters Mike has sent El, kept away in a box. He's careless with her love, as it were. There's definitely more to be said here, but I'm more knowledgable with the rest of the season, so I'll focus on that.

Let's fast forward a bit to the airport scene.

We see Mike in unusual attire. Colours his character has never worn before in a style he's never been dressed in. Red flag number one. The two share the only kiss they have for the whole season and embrace, with Mike holding a bundle of flowers for El. She looks at the tag attached to said flowers, see's Mike writes from rather than love, and the camera focuses on her face while she falters.

There's a couple things to analyse here, so let's start with Mike's outfit.

One of El's primary colours in the show is purple, confirmed later on by Mike when he mentions he picked purple flowers since it's her favourite colour. This shows us the colour of Mike's shirt is intentionally supposed to reflect El, especially since he has never worn this colour before. Interesting to note that it's a t-shirt he's wearing, since Mike's wardrobe is composed of button downs, sweaters and polo shirt primarily. Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is the first time we've seen him in anything other than that.

Argyle points out later in the scene that Mike's shirt is a ''shitty knock-off.''

In a GQ interview with Stranger Thing's costume designer, we're told the following about Mike's costume in Season 4:

''So Mike Wheeler's outfit was written into the script that way... So we knew we'd wanted something that felt like an outfit maybe he would've bought at the airport before he got there... It's not a colour Mike normally wears.. We had made two colourways. We made orange and teal, and he's worn teal before, so it felt orange was the best colour that was different that felt he was trying to make it work in California.''

This is really interesting! There's another interview moment which ties in with this which I can't find at the moment so I can't quote it word for word, but I believe Finn says something along the lines of Mike acting unlike himself this season.

The costume choices in this scene are meant to reflect Mike's feelings.

When in California, more specifically when in this outfit, Mike is not acting like himself. He is trying to make things work by changing himself to be more attuned to what El wants, and more importantly, putting on a persona, arguably a heterosexual persona. Mike, of course, is not alone in the fact he's acting like someone else, because El is doing the same.

By choosing to omit the bullying and struggles she experiencing in Lenora, going so far as to outright lie to Mike by telling him Angela and Stacy are her friends, El is trying to act like the ''perfect girlfriend'' for Mike. She is presenting herself as happy, that her life is wonderful in all it's facets, in the hopes that Mike will finally begin expressing his love to her if she's good enough (I know that analysis does diminish El a bit, but it is my personal opinion on why she's acting the way she is.), as well as wanting to be the picture-perfect couple she wants them to be perceived as.

Of course, this vision shatters at Rink-O-Mania when El shmacks Angela in the face with a roller-skate. It's from this point on that their relationship falls downhill over the course of the whole season.

After they get home and everyone is eating dinner, Jonathan and Argyle speak about how Angela will be fine. Mike's reply is ''She didn't look fine'', and El storms off from the table. This scene is a parallel to one between Karen and Ted in Season 1(?) in which Karen storms off and Ted takes a sip of his drink, and Mike and El do the exact same.

Curious to parallel the shows ''leading couple'' with a failing marriage.

Then, we have Mike and El's big fight.

The fight starts on the basis of Mike mentioning the night before with Angela.

Mike knows that El has been lying to him for a long time about her life in Lenora and has seen first hand how she's been treated. He's upset and confused and El is shutting him off.

And... that's all I got done. I'll probably revisit this post in the future when I have time, but dear god, I have a lot of coursework right now, so now is not the time.

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