#wanted to put something out so meh

[glitchedcosmos]

Stretch or risk the pulled muscle

[fisheito]

hello... please consider... yakumo in:

the classic traditional style qipaos

the modernised and modified ones

bonus: modified hanfu

he would look wonderful wouldn't he? all the more delectable and sashimiable?

ahaha...ahah...AHAHHAH.AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

[topaziraphale]

"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,

The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"

Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.

What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.

[arttsuka]

Happy new year!!! I hope you feel better soon and don't worry about how much art you're posting, because your art is so beautiful and amazing that even one drawing can sustain me for a year <3 <3 <3

Happy new year :)

[mikimeiko]

For All Mankind | Season 3 (2022), Ronald D. Moore, Matt Wolpert, and Ben Nedivi

[campingwiththecharmings]

ever get the feeling some people are just...tolerating you?

[heartbeatbookclub]

It's 2 am as I start this, and I feel the need to put pen to paper on this thought, so to speak, because it's something I think about with relative frequency.

This is going to be more of a personal musing on my experience with Doki Doki Literature Club, and why it had such an impact on me when I first played it, as opposed to any more concrete analysis, so I guess you can keep reading if you want to know more about me as a person and my overall personal relationship to it.

Something I think about often in reference to DDLC is its status simultaneously as a satire on visual novels and all of the tropes therein, as well as a love letter to that genre, explicitly. It's very readily apparent if you've played a good few "weeb" visual novels that it very much fits that bill. I think my first experience with it makes it especially funny in that respect.

To give context, I first experienced Doki Doki Literature Club like a month or two after it came out, in a Skype call (shows how old I am) with 2 or 3 of my friends. During this period of my life, me and this small group of friends spent lots and lots of time just hanging out in Skype calls like this, doing whatever we pleased, spending time well into the next morning just enjoying each other's presence and seeing what fun shenanigans we could get into on the internet.

One frequent passtime of ours was playing visual novels. Not just any visual novels, no; we went looking for the most low effort, mediocre, low hanging fruit of visual novels we could download for free. The goal wasn't to enjoy a good story, the goal was to find something amusingly bad, whether in cliched, awkward, lazy writing, or in sheer absurdity. I still do this sometimes, though it's admittedly with a different thought in mind now.

I don't think this perception we had of visual novels, being that they're typically sloppy, cringe-inducing messes is necessarily uncommon even now, but it was especially common back then. It was "weeb shit", simple as, but even deeper than your typical weeb shit. The perception was something like watching High School DxD unironically; it's just weird.

And I don't really think the perception of visual novels being that way is necessarily inaccurate; there is a very low bar to entry to actually creating a visual novel just by the nature of the medium, so really, anyone with enough passion for a project and time on their hands can make one. As a consequence, there are a few egregiously bad visual novels, there are a few really excellent visual novels, but there are a great many just sort of okay, somewhat mediocre visual novels, and lots of visual novels created with not so honorable goals in mind.

And one thing we really enjoyed was just exploring what existed in the depths of unpopular visual novels slipping through the cracks of what people saw. For most of it, we were making fun of it, but there were a lot of points where we found stories which were mediocre, but ended up really enjoying our experience with it. I think an important thing to understand with that lower barrier to entry is that it enables people who really are passionate about telling a story to tell a story that has a lot of heart, and you can see all of that heart as a diamond within the rough of the actual construction. Even in VNs with more polish, typically there are still cracks right around the edges, where you can see just a little bit of the humanity that goes into it. It's sort of magical.

And Doki Doki Literature Club was an odd edge case, which successfully played with all of my perceptions of it. DDLC is probably the only game whose story is reliant on a plot twist where I actually went in completely blind. By all appearances, it was a silly little visual novel made with no sense of irony, and I spent a great deal of time laughing at its contents, completely unaware that they were in on the joke.

And my perception of it being this way I feel like colored a lot of what happened next when I looked into it. I forget exactly when our playthrough ended--we didn't make it to any of the deeper stuff, I watched a Let's Play for that--and I forget how the whole series of events following that went, but somehow or another, I learned of some of the true nature. Namely I saw what happened to Sayori.

It reminded me of Corpse Party, when I actually thought about it.

I'm not going to go deep in depth on all of my thoughts about Corpse Party nor any of its history, but to be frank, Corpse Party reeeally sits in that realm of "mediocre, but lots of heart" to me. I don't really think Corpse Party is very good, particularly elaborating on a lot of the lore, but I really enjoyed it when I first experienced it, and it's still something I occasionally like looking back over. It's deliciously dark, and is extremely effective at creating an oppressive atmosphere out of what's ostensibly a collection of happy warm anime character tropes with little serious personality outside them.

So when I say that Sayori's death reminded me of Corpse Party, I mean that the way it paired playing the happy warm visual novel setting straight with extremely grim subject matter was done well.

Really, there were only a few other examples of this kind of media I could think of that really effectively utilized the exact kind of gut punch that DDLC did. Everything about the way the game framed itself around it, up until the final plot twist, really did feel like they were just elements of a visual novel playing themselves out. Sayo-nara really sets that tone for me--it still gives me chills sometimes when I hear it, because it sounds perfectly like what a "Bad Ending" theme for that kind of ending would likely sound like. It plays itself remarkably well into creating the setting, it really effectively feels like it is a normal visual novel falling apart at the seams.

I think that, more than anything, is why DDLC made such an impact on me when I first experienced it (which is remarkably different than the kind of mark it leaves on me now), it played so effectively with a genre I was so familiar with, and simultaneously played "mediocre visual novel with lots of heart" straight while also completely knocking "deep and terrifying existential horror" out of the park.

It's hard to truly describe, but there's just so much that feels so right about DDLC just being as it is. There's such a unique quality to the way it's written, to the way it's constructed, that goes down to its bones. It feels like that exact brand of junk food media you go to visual novels for. You don't necessarily want to think too deeply about the characters, or the setting of the story, or any of the deeper themes surrounding it; you just want to experience a nice story with some anime girls.

And then it yanks the rug out from under you, and makes you think it's junk food media with a side of deep and disturbing horror.

And then it yanks the second rug out from under that one, making you realize it's something much, much deeper.

I think something else it really appealed to, to me, was just that sense of being on the edge of the world which most indie games of that sort always give me. There are a shitload of examples I could give for this, but this sense I'm describing is the opposite of the sense which games like Undertale give me. Undertale's world feels lived in, it feels like it exists in a much, much wider concept of a great, sprawling world where billions of people live.

DDLC feels like you and the 4 girls in it are the only people in the universe. There are all of these environments you inhabit which ostensibly have other people who pass through them, live in them, there are implications of people, but inside this world, there's only you.

I think it just appeals to my desire to be transported to a complete other world for a little while. A limited space, where only things important to this experience exist, for this pure feeling of emotional catharsis. And that's something a lot of these sorts of simple visual novels appeal to; the goal isn't necessarily to tell some deeper story, it's just to present beats as they happen. DDLC takes that, and plays with it, both in a textual sense, as though these fictional characters exist and are somehow aware they're fictional, and in a meta sense, by directly playing around with your expectations and the way the entire thing is framed.

Or something like that.

Fun fact 1: Doki Doki Literature Club (specifically Sayo-Nara, still one of the few songs I can play entirely by memory) is what got me to start learning piano. I taught myself to play, and started mostly with the DDLC soundtrack (Which is very simple to play by ear, by the way, it's pretty much entirely C major.)

Fun fact 2: What initially inspired this thought was this video, which really reminded me of other visual novels we/I played that would utilize this particular style of music.

[exactly24bees]

Can’t ever go into the garrus tags. None of you people understand him like I do

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, part 6

Danny arriving at the Apartment

Danny: I'm home!

Jason: Hey kid, how was school?

Danny: Once again my astronomy teacher has no idea what she is talking about.

Jason (laughing): Well she, unlike someone I know, hasn't been to space.

Danny: I'm this close to start a astronomy club just to teach my classmates proper astronomy.

Jason: You should go for it.

Danny: Meh, too much effort.

Jason: Fair enough. Anyways you got a letter for the Gotham County Clerk of Courts. He held up the letter. Kid, what did you do?

Danny: It's here! Jason raised an eyebrow as he gave Danny the letter. Ok, so I had an idea, but wanted it to be a surprise, so I forged your signature to do something.

Jason (sightly concerned): What?

Danny opened the letter and gave to Jason

-----

Hereby declared by the Gotham County Clerk of Courts that from this day forward that Daniel Fenton shall be known as Daniel Todd-Wayne

-----

Danny: I used your signature to fill out the proper forms and legally changed my last name.

Jason: To mine.

Danny: To yours.

Jason got up and hugged Danny.

Jason: I love son.

Danny: Love you too dad.

Jason: We are framing this.

Danny: Let's put it right next to your old death certificate.

Jason: Good idea.

Danny: Just one thing you're going to have to inform my school, bank, really anything legally attached to name about the change.

Jason: Don't worry, I'll deal with it. I'll also have to tell Bruce, the Wayne Family PR team will want to make a formal announcement about this.

Danny: Thanks dad, I'm going to do some homework.

Jason: Ok, just know I'm going to start making dinner.

Danny: Try not to burn our apartment down.

Jason (slightly offended): Excuse you, I am the only member of our family that Alfred allows to use the kitchen at the manor. I know how to cook.

Danny (walking into his room): Just making sure.

Jason, now alone, looked at the document in his hands.

Jason (smiling): Danny Todd-Wayne, my son.

(Master Post)

[myjjongie]

۶ৎ BENEATH THE MASK ── s. jaeyun

IN WHICH: your best friend's brother has a secret identity you didn't mean to find at 3 in the morning.

PAIRING: spider-man!jake x fem reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lowercase intended !!, one shot, fluff, slight angst, best friend's brother, emotional tension, slow burn, mentions of an injury, bleeding/blood WORD COUNT: 2.5k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTES: firstly i wanna thank claire ( @jaeyunluvbot ). i was torn between writing bsf brother jake or spider-man jake, and claire said to mix both. and that is what i did, so shout to her holy days. really loved writing this tbh. i am a huge lover for anything marvel (scott summers ily) and this was so just so much fun :3

spider-man, a proclaimed menace. at least, that’s what the daily bugle claimed. a web slinging vigilante who causes property damage alongside misdemeanors. speculations of him being a college student, didn’t help the masked hero’s case. to many, spider-man seemed like a immature kid.

but to a small majority spider-man was their savior. you were a part of that latter. your interest was just a minor curiosity. blurry photos mixed with poorly shot videos flooded your feed. or maybe it was the way the masked hero was close in your age. in the end it began to flood your mind, he was on your mind.

it wasn’t until the infamous web slinger saved you. in truth it wasn’t a life or death situation. just a minor theft, stolen back pack was all. yet spider-man was somehow there to save you instantly.

you remember the way he spoke—his tone was strangely familiar, yet out of reach. like a voice you should recognize but couldn’t quite place. that fleeting moment was enough to keep him on your mind. articles you stumbled upon? bookmarked. every post that crossed your timeline? saved without hesitation. what only started as simple curiosity had slowly turned into something more.

now here you were, crashing at yunjin’s place as usual—pajamas on, sprawled across her bed. your phone rested in your hands, screen glowing as you mindlessly scrolled, your feed unsurprisingly filled with spider-man.

“you totally have a type.”

your head turned to your best friend bewildered by her statement. her eyes remained fixed on the post displayed on your phone. sure you found the mysterious hero charming. but you wouldn’t say he’s your type, that was a bit of a stretch. yunjin, however, only giggled at your immediate defensiveness.

“come on. i’ve seen the way you talk about him. not to mention all those articles and posts you have saved. he’s totally your type!”

you rolled your eyes, heat creeping up to your cheeks. “doesn’t mean he’s my type. it’s just simple curiosity nothing more.”

“right.” yunjin hummed as she turned away from your phone. “you know instead of just day dreaming about wanting that web-head, put that focus on jake.”

your face morphed into utter shock. “absolutely not!”

yunjin snorted watching you jump up. “i mean he’s single. you’re single—“

your voice quickly cut in. “huh yunjin. i liked him one time in grade school!” you couldn’t help but stare at her like she had lost her mind. “not to mention this is your older brother we’re talking about!”

“gosh. you make him sound horrible.” yunjin pouted.

“i mean he’s not horrible. he’s a great guy. just, i was so young when i first met him. hell he was the only guy i knew at that age. so of course i had a crush on him.”

yunjin shrugged, unbothered by your words. “i mean even if you still did i wouldn’t care. plus i think it would be enjoyable watching you both bicker in a will they or won’t they kind of way.” she couldn’t help but laugh at the could have been situation.

“still not happening.”

“what’s not happening?”

both of you turned towards the doorway, where jake stood in flannel pajamas and a graphic tee. his iconic black frames perched on his nose. your face turned red, heart racing as you feared he had overheard the entire conversation.

“meh, nothing don’t worry about it. you heading to bed jake?”

“yeah just came to check on you both before i turned in for the night. just don’t forget you’re in charge of getting groceries tomorrow. i’ll send some money—“

“yeah yeah. i hear you jake. i’ll see you in the morning.” yunjin cut him off, breathing out a sigh.

jake softly laughed at his stubborn sister. “good night yunjin. and good night yn.”

your red ears perked at his voice. “yeah.. good night jake.” awkward eyes looking at him, taking note of the smile on his face.

with that jake walked away to his room. the faint sound of his closed door echoing from the hallway.

face planting into the pillows you groaned out. “god kill me now!”

the weight of embarrassment was too much for you. in truth you weren’t being fully honest with yunjin. one thing was true you did like jake once in grade school, but that didn’t mean there were no feelings that lingered.

you denied anything romantic you felt towards jake for years. only recently did you come to terms with these emotions that would never leave. the only conclusion now was to sleep it off—it seemed like the quickest way to forget, at least for the time being. future you would have to deal with waking up and remembering it all again.

later that night you stirred awake, eye lids struggling to open. finally finding your phone after blindly feeling for it. the bright light helping to wake you up. the weight of yunjin curled up next to you as she still slept soundly. you carefully peeled yourself out of the bed. making sure not to make any noise as you made your way to her door.

once out of the door, you began to head toward the kitchen. as you made your way down the hallway passing jake’s room, something made you pause. his door was cracked open, just slightly. just enough for you to see him.

there was jake, his black frames—something he always needed—no longer in sight. jake hunched over his bed, peeling his hoodie off with slow, careful movements. his shirt was stained a dark red at his side. blood swelling from a fresh gash on his ribs.

your eyes widened at the deep wound seeping through his shirt, panic rising as your mind raced with too many questions to count. then you scanned the room further, taking notice of the first-aid kit sprawled out beside him. surgical scissors along with antiseptic wipes littering the floor. evidence of a rushed attempt to tend to his injury. the sight only deepened the confusion settling in your chest.

and there, crumpled at his feet, was a torn mask. one you had seen countless times—so many that you could recognize it just from its color.

that signature red mixed with a web motif.

your breath hitched.

no.

no. no. no.

your best friend’s, nerdy, predictable, know it all, older brother was—

jake was spider-man.

your head began to spin, everything falling into place like a puzzle you stared at for so long. why he felt oddly familiar. why spider-man’s voice sounded like someone you knew. why he was in the right place at the right time.

it was jake.

all along, it was jake.

before you could even think about stepping back, his head snapped toward the door. toward you. jake’s gaze now locked onto yours instantly. panic spreading across his face as the situation settled in.

for a second, nothing moved. then, in one swift motion he shot up. stumbling slightly, knocking over the chair beside him. “shit.”

unfortunately for you, jake moved faster then you could react. one second you were standing outside his door frozen in place. the next, a strong hand was wrapped around your wrist, yanking you forward.

a startled gasp left your lips as you stumbled into his room. his door shortly closing behind you. before you could begin to register what had just happened, your back was pressed against the wood. jake’s arm braced by your head, caging you in. his uneven breathing being the only sound in the shared silence.

you couldn’t move, neither did he. all you could do was watch as his eyes scanned your face. seeking for your reactions, wondering if you felt lied to, betrayed, hurt.

you could see it in his dark eyes, worry cascading his body at his secret being out. indeed spider-man was someone you began to admire. but that didn’t mean jake purposely lied to you or even yunjin, there was a reason for it. so how could you hate him for something he felt hiding was right?

jake noticed the reflection of your eyes change. his tense body now softening. he could withstand everyone else hating him, maybe even his sister. but you? the thought of you hating him for this secret, crushed him every time he put the suit on. especially when he realized his feelings for you shifted all those years ago.

finally his voice broke through the silence, low and measured. “you can’t tell anyone.”

you nodded along, your brain still processing the last ten minutes. you felt dizzy, as if the world around you was spinning out of control. this was jake. your best friend’s older brother. the same guy you used to have a ridiculous grade school crush on—to your surprise, you still did. the same guy who now stood in front of you bleeding, battered, and very much not a nerdy know it all you thought you knew.

then he winced.

the sharp inhale made you snap out of it. your eyes flickered down to his ribs. remembering the fresh blood seeping through the fabric. your stomach churned at the thought.

“jake. you’re—“

“i know.” his voice was strained, body tensing up again. “can you help me?”

your eyes widened at his question. “me?”

“yeah.” jake couldn’t help let out a pained laugh at your expression. “i mean unless you want me to bleed out in my room. that’s fine.”

“no. no! i’ll help.”

jake stepped back, the absence of his warmth making you exhale. jake made his way to the bed, dropping himself onto the edge with a slow and careful motion. once settling down did he strip away his blood stained shirt, revealing his wounded body.

you had seen jake shirtless countless times before. he had the build of your usual nerd—slim, somewhat lanky, with a lean frame. but now, with the suit gone, he looked different. stronger. more defined than you had ever realized. the muscles that lined his torso was a stark contrast to the image of him you always carried in your mind. that alone made it hard to look away.

swallowing all your nerves you forced yourself to move. picking up the fallen chair, you pulled it up the bed side. gathering up the items from the first-aid kit, you settled it down next to jake.

your fingers trembled slightly as you grabbed the antiseptic wipes. jake took immediate note of this causing him to smirk at your movements.

“you’re nervous.”

you shot him a glare. “no, i’m not.”

“mhm.” jake let out a low chuckle. knowing you weren’t being honest.

you felt your cheeks burn at his laugh. yet wanting to prove a point, you pressed the antiseptic to his wound a little harder than necessary.

jake hissed. “okay, easy.”

“you know you deserved that.”

jake laughed lowly once more sending a shiver up your spine. you turned your focus back to his wound, ignoring the way his laugh made you feel. you took the moment to examine his side. a deep gash that would definitely need stitching, jake didn’t expect you to do it did he?

“don’t worry. i’m gonna stitch myself up.”

your head shot up to look at him. did he just read your mind? you saw the way jake let a lopsided smile tug at his lips. “it was written all over your face yn.”

you turned your face away feeling too shy to continue staring at him. carefully you went back to the task. your eyes couldn’t help but wander over to his bare chest. noting the way jake breathed deeply whenever you applied pressure, or when you brought a new wipe to the wound.

then gently you raised your fingers to graze against his stomach. mesmerized by how muscular his torso had become. before you could make contact, his hand shot out, grabbing yours. his grip was tight, trembling slightly, as if he was afraid of something.

“don’t.” jake breathed out, his dark eyes fixed on you, partially hidden by his messy brown hair. his voice came off low, strained, almost as if the simple request was harder than it seemed.

“sorry. i. i wasn’t thinking.” you whispered as you readjusted your focus.

jake’s breathing deepened as he studied your nervous body beneath him, his gaze faltered between your hands and your face. jake could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him—knowing that if he didn’t stop you, everything they had would be ruined. the seemingly normal relationship you both had would slip through his fingers. it was bad enough you had found out about his secret identity this way. he couldn’t bear to make it worse by letting his feelings get in the way.

soon you finished, scooting away as jake took over, carefully stitching the wound. an occasional click of his tongue filled the room whenever he poked too deep.

the air was thick, charged with something unspoken. you didn’t know what it was. but there was a tense emotion that hung between you both.

you let out a deep exhale, your gaze lowering down to the floor, now eyeing the torn mask. with hesitant fingers, you reached down for it, gently picking it up. turning it over you stared at the face you’d seen countless of times on your screen. fingers grazing over the eye lenses, taking in the moment of jake being spider-man.

jake’s hand stilled. his gaze flickered to you, watching as you studied the mask.

then, he spoke up. his voice low yet quiet, breaking the silence.

“are you scared of me now?”

his words were barely above a whisper, worry laced between it.

your body jumped, caught off guard by his question. slowly, your gaze lifted to meet with his eyes. then you saw it, the jake you always knew. yet. he looked tired. worn out from all the responsibilities he had to bear alone. your fingers curled around the mask gripping it tightly.

“no.”

you swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest. realization dawned on you at how much jake truly suffered alone. suffering so much he couldn’t even tell his sister. “i’m not scared of you jake.”

“thank you…” his head hung low as he focused on stitching himself up.

you continued to sit there, feeling as if jake needed the company—someone to distract him from the weight of his solitude. after a long moment jake finished up, carefully putting everything back into the kit before shoving it underneath his bed.

standing up from the chair, you knew this was your queue to leave. mask still held tightly in your hand you placed it down next to jake. before you could turn toward his door, jake’s fingers brushed against yours. barely, lightly, as if he was unsure he could touch you.

“yn. thank you again. just. please don’t tell yunjin..”

“didn’t plan on it.” you laughed softly, slowly pulling your hand from his touch. the feeling still lingering on your fingertips.

making your way to the door you slowly turned around, gaze locked back onto jake. “good night spider-man.”

jake chuckled at his hero alias the corners of his mouth curling into a faint smile. “good night yn.”

as you left his room the weight of it all still loomed on you. you knew for certain nothing between you and jake would ever be the same again.

yet somehow you found yourself happy with that new found outcome.

perm taglist ( open! refer to this post ) . . . @ikeulove @leehsngs @nickiminajleftasscheek @ijustwannareadstuff20 @enhanextdoor

©myjjongie 2025

[cutieln4]

Kiss and Makeup | LN4 smau

lando norris x reader

summary: you are lando norris's makeup artist

fc: isabela merced

yourusername added to their story

caption: my face after waking up at 4 am to do ppl’s makeup

yourusername

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yourbsf you’re GLOWING babe

mclaren check DMs!

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caption: New stuff coming soon🤭

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mclaren

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mclaren Some new bags have been released with our partnership with Tumi, check them out below!

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landonorris gearing up for the next race

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user4 RIZZ?????

user5 oh to have lando norris call me pretty

user6 guys is this the start of something new?

user7 alright chill out zac efron

GQ

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GQ Racing, gaming, and padel, hear all about Lando Norris in his interview here

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user1 WOWZA

user2 another photoshoot? please tell me y/n was his makeup artist

user3 ZOO WEE MAMA🥵

user4 lando has been feeding us lately

user5 i can't handle this anymore

yourusername added to their story

caption: bros messing up the makeup😐

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user1 IM SO JEALOUS

user2 soooo are yall dating or what?

landonorris oops?

landonorris

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landonorris that's more like it

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user1 LANDO NORRIS 2X GRAND PRIX WINNER

user2 absolute domination today

user3 congrats!!

yourusername invite me next time?

landonorris yes ma'am🫡

user4 WHAT DOES THIS MEANNNNN

user5 im sick of them

maxfewtrell put a shirt on mate

user6 no we don't mind😊

yourusername

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yourusername who is this diva????

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user1 HELP I LOVE HER

user2 my b pose is naaastyyy

user3 he's so handsome

landonorris it's not too late to delete

yourusername but what fun is that???

user4 🚢🚢🚢

user5 so so jealous

user6 is she just like his permanent makeup artist now lol?

yourusername yeah he kidnapped me

landonorris for legal reasons this is a joke😑

user7 OMG

tumitravel

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tumitravel Lando Norris for TUMI

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user1 ok i'll buy the bag

user2 does lando come with the bag???

user3 yn is one lucky girl

user4 love how y'all just assume their dating

user3 well yes

user5 HOLY MOLY

yourusername wow whoever did his makeup must be really good

landonorris meh shes okay

user6 stop i love them

lando.jpg

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user1 HELP WHOS CAT IS THAT

user2 who u making heart pizza with??🤨

user3 if i say what i wanna say they'll silence me

user3 they're so dating

user4 🤫

yourusername aw cute cat

landonorris thx :)

user5 let me just sit back and observe

user6 yesss lando.jpg revival finally

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user1 where ya going?🙂

yourbsf gonna miss u when ur in singapore :(

user2 y'all so cute idec if you're dating or not

landonorris

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landonorris sing a pore

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user1 bruh

user2 hard launch on live tv goes crazy

user3 bro's just gonna ignore that EVERYONE saw that kiss

yourusername you can't keep a secret to save your life

landonorris oops🤭

yourusername you're lucky ur cute

user4 CONFIRMATION YES

user5 WAR IS OVER

user6 I WAS HERE

user7 okay but that was so fricking cute

yourusername

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yourusername muppet🙄

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user1 HELP

landonorris i said i was sorry pls

landonorris sorry again😁😁😁

landonorris where did you get these photos

user2 nahh that's crazy

user3 okay now i'm definitely jealous

user4 this is literally a wattpad story like wdym she's his makeup artist and now they're dating???

yourbsf i'd like to thank beyoncé

taglist: @evasmlp @partnerincrime0 @r0nnsblog @raizelchrysanderoctavius @daniiiboo @wisestarfishbouquet @noodleysalad @thatgirlwholikescars @jxnellat @blakebearsblog @angelluv444 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @etterdotexe @scopeiguess @noope306 @burning8wood @styl1shl1v @venusandstardust @daniellef89x @nzygftoji @laheykol06 @blodwyn4u @allthings-fandoms @woozarts @astroniii @lilorose25 @dejavuontrack @xxx-betty @wobblymug @m3ntally-unstable @armystay89 @sarakay-gvf @kar1nsworldx @velentine @rexit-mo @blodwyn4u @lammys-thinking @sam02009 @kaorisakamotofan @taylorsvogue13 @loveparkersblog @delicatetrashtree @hashmiya @noodleboyluke @crispysoup318 @kisssleeping @comicalivy @lilypat @superlegend216 @pakotrzl @heavy-vettel @ilivbullyingjeongin @theblueblub @bloodyymaryyy @stressed-cherry @da-writer @chemiru @ks001

add yourself to my taglist here!

[sincerelyneo]

golden hour | l.mk

“i’ve got a really big problem…”

💿now playing: golden hour by mark

❯ summary: Mark’s got a really big problem; you. The pretty neighbour that shares a bedroom wall with him. You’re a night owl and you’re so loud and are you…listening to his music whilst masturbating…? Fuck now he’s hard. Guess he’s got two really big problems.

❯ pairings: mark x fem!reader

❯ genre: neighbours, smut

❯ words: 2.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, masturbation, mark’s a loser for the plot, very explicit details of sexual fantasies, reader uses she/her pronouns and female gendered terms, literally just mark being horny whilst reader gets off to his song.

Mark needs to move out. He doesn’t know how much longer he can take the old run-down building his apartment is located in having no working elevator. If you’d have told him two years ago when he signed his dream music contract with a real record label that he’d be climbing six flights of stairs after a long week of work he’d have called you a liar. But that’s what happens when people aren’t listening to your music. 

Maybe he's overreacting; the building isn’t that terrible. It has its perks—like the pretty view. And it’s usually quiet—well, it was until his lively new neighbor moved in. Mark might have thought of you as a perk when he first saw you, considering you’re exactly his type, so fucking beautiful. But you’re also so fucking loud.

You always seem to have something going on—plans, hobbies, parties, meetings, friends. Mark knows because the walls between you and him are thin, and you’re never quiet, never still. At first, he thought it was kind of cute, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realises he’s been so distracted by how attracted he is to you, he’s been letting your noisy lifestyle slide.

It’s not like he wants to knock on your door and ask you to keep it down; he’s too worried you’d think he’s some kind of loser. Even at twenty-five, he still craves female validation like he’s a high schooler—so he’s been putting up with the sleepless nights. Another reason why he needs to move asap. 

The lack of sleep, combined with the endless stairs, has left Mark drained this past month. He can practically hear his sofa calling his name, can taste the cold bottles of beer that sit in his fridge as he reaches the top step. He may be a tad out of breath and a little sweaty but he’s got the weekend off and that’s all he can think about. But unlike you, Mark’s life is boring. The most exciting thing about his weekend is the idea of not having to climb his complex’s stairs until Monday. 

Meh. He could dwell on the mundane schedule of his life for hours but he gets distracted. Distracted by his pretty little nightmare neighbour. 

You're all dressed up in a tight gold dress that clings to every inch of your body. Your hair falls down your back as you lock your door, tucking the keys into the tiny clutch hanging from your shoulder.

That’s when you notice him too.

“Oh, hey,” you greet him softly, offering a bright and friendly smile. 

Mark returns it, his chest swelling. There's no denying you’re a beautiful girl. And although he’s overheard your phone calls about parties through the thin walls, and the hum of your hair dryer as you get ready for nights out, he’s never actually seen you in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt. He’s never been given the opportunity to see you so dolled up, to notice the little love handles he can all of a sudden imagine himself gripping. He clears his throat and smiles wider.

“Hi Y/N…you look nice!” He compliments kindly, fingers fiddling with his own keys. 

Nice? 

The word replays in his mind. He’s spent endless nights thinking about how beautiful you are and now he’s finally got to feed his craving of seeing you in tight clothes but the only word he can muster up is nice? Oh he hates himself. 

But then he sees you blush at the comment, and he loves the way you purse your lips, trying to hide a shy smile. A part of him is annoyed that you’re blushing over something so simple—he thinks every man should be showering you with compliments, and you should expect more than nice. Still, there’s something about the way you squirm from his words that has his cock throbbing.

He wonders if it’s because you’re attracted to him too. It’s not completely out of the question. You know who he is, of course you do. You see each other in passing a lot but you’ve also spoken on the day you moved in. Mark remembers it like it was yesterday. 

He could hear you panting and cursing in the hall, hauling boxes up and down the stairs before he came out to help. You didn’t recognise him at first, not until he was in your apartment setting boxes down.

That’s when you turned to him with wide eyes and a breathy, “oh wow, aren’t you the dude that sang ‘Golden Hour’?”

Mark started blinking at you like a deer in the headlights. He’d never encountered a fan in person before, he had a small community online, but his music hadn’t exactly been taking off like he planned. So you can imagine his surprise when his new (extremely attractive) neighbour knew one of his songs. 

“Thank you,” your soft voice breaks him from his memory, and moves his focus. “Just a night out with the girls, been a long week,” you sigh. 

He wants to hear all about your long week, wants to be the one to make it better—maybe convince you to skip the girls’ night and spend it with him instead. But he doesn’t. He doesn't even let the thought linger for more than a moment before he’s nervously tapping his key against his thumb.

“Well have fun, and be safe,” he settles on tenderly. 

You nod with a small smile, giving a gentle wave before turning to leave. He watches you until you’ve rounded the corner, only then unlocking his door and kicking off his shoes with a sigh.

Mark grabs a bottle of beer from the kitchen, kicking the fridge door closed behind him. His entire apartment is dark and it reminds him of the loneliness he’s been feeling for the last six months. Mark never really thought about love and relationships before he met you. Sure, he likes to fool around as much as the next person, but he’s always been fine with being on his own. But you remind him of the lonely. 

He’s never longed for love and friendships but a secret part of him craves a woman by his side… craves the woman next door.

He wonders what it’d be like for you to be cuddled into his side as you watch a movie. Wonders if you’d laugh at certain parts and crane your neck up to pepper tender kisses to his soft lips. Mark squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, tries to rid the thoughts of you from his mind.

But it’s proven a little more difficult when he moves from the couch to take a shower and the water is running down his tense and naked body. He struggles to not think about you on your knees, touching his thick cock and kissing up his thighs.

He has to swallow back the lump in his throat and blinks away the urge to touch himself to the thought of you. He refuses to be that kind of guy. He’s not that kind of guy. So he gets out the shower and does the only thing he likes doing — music. 

Mark tries out new melodies on his guitar, humming broken lyrics and soft tunes he’ll be sure to show his producer on Monday. After a while he catches sight of the clock on the wall and it’s already a little past midnight. After locking his doors he’s crawling into bed and ready to sleep; but then he hears something. 

A soft giggle muffled from the wall behind his head. 

Mark’s fully aware the two of you share the same wall for your beds, rooms mirroring each other, but he’s never heard this kind of sweet giggle fall from your lips so late at night. He tries not to let the sound affect him, but there’s only one reason why a girl like you could be giggling at this hour after a night out. 

You’ve brought someone home? But Mark can’t hear a man’s voice, not even the slightest grunt or groan of male muttering. He can only hear soft giggling slipping from his favourite pair of lips.

And then he hears a robotic voice announcing that the Bluetooth is successfully connected and he knows he’s about to hear your fuck playlist. The thought sends a thrill through his body and he knows he’s unlikely going to get any sleep tonight.

He’s about to get up, to move to the sofa in the living room, to not be disrespectful and a perv by listening to you getting off, but he hears a familiar hammering of drums and a guitar muffled through the paper-thin walls and his eyes are bulging.

“Give me my A course, ice is so big like a glacier” 

You’re giggling again and he can hear your body fall against the sheets of the bed – the bed that’s very clearly pushed up against the same wall his is. It creaks under your weight, and Mark feels the wall tremble slightly as your bed frame knocks against his wall.

He’s tried so hard not to be that guy, but his hand finds its way in his boxers before he can fully comprehend what he’s doing. He’s rock fucking hard, red and veiny and he takes off his boxers, leaving him sprawled on his back, completely bare.

He hears your soft whimpers, can hear you hum in appreciation even over the buzzing of your vibrator and the thumping of his song. He doesn’t know what’s turning him on more; the fact that he can hear you getting off and moaning out, or that you’re listening to him while trying to cum. 

Either way, his hand is wrapped tight around his thick length, thumbing over his oozing tip. He thinks of how you must be, how you’d look completely whilst naked and sprawled out on the bed for him. Mark imagines himself on top of you, kissing your perky tits he loves to think about and wrapping his lips around your swollen nipples. His mind feels like it can taste you on his tongue, can feel your dainty fingers tugging at his hair as he laps you.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp loud enough for him to hear.  

It makes him imagine your eyes rolling back when he finally fucks himself inside your tight little cunt, he visions the look of ecstasy on your face when your jaw would become completely slack and your body quivers for him. He knows you’d feel him deep in your stomach. He knows he’d be so big for you. 

“Fuck,” he slips out in a desperate pant.

He’s completely breathless, tugging at his dick, spitting down on it to get it all wet for you. He knows you’re so much wetter on the other side of the damn wall, and that he’d rather be sinking into your wet pussy but his spit would have to do. 

He throws his head back in his pillow, eyes shut tight, allowing his mind to work over time. 

“Fuck, Mark… I need it.”

Everything feels surreal, like he’s in his own personal heaven with a touch of hell. You’re crying out for more, for him, begging for it deeper, harder, and he finds himself fucking into his fist just as desperately. Like his soft palm is your silky pussy.

Mark can’t focus on anything other than your sweet fucking cries that sound otherwordly against his song. It makes him think about how much he’d love to record your moans, use them in his next song. But then he’d never be able to release it — because they’re his to hear. 

It’s when the bridge starts that you really let yourself go, filthy fucking moans, the speed of the vibrator increasing, and God he wishes he could watch you right now. See you trembling and begging as the instrumental plays out loud and hard. 

He can’t handle it.

Gruff moans are slipping past his lips and he does nothing to try and conceal them. The muscles in his arm are burning but he fucks his cock harder, imaging what it’d be like to feel his balls slap against your ass as he pounds into you.

He can feel the coil tightening in his stomach, the way his cock starts to twitch. His imagination grows wild and filthy, every single fantasy he’s tried locking away to not be that guy now flooding his mind because you’re that girl. 

That girl that’s using his music to cum. That girl that wants to hear his voice as she gets off. That girl who’s doing it with no shame, no guilt. That girl that’s using him. 

The thought takes Mark’s mind to sinful places. “Take it,” he can hear himself seeth through gritted teeth. He imagines you begging for his cum, taking it like the good fucking girl you are.

“Ugh, fuuckk I’m cumming!” Mark cries out gruffly through strangled moans and he hears your screams follow.

Your bed is creaking louder than before and he knows your thighs have got to be trembling as you cum around your vibrator. Mark’s hand and thighs are covered in thick ribbons of white arousal and when his eyes flutter open, through his blotched vision, he imagines seeing you kneeling between his thighs and licking it up.

He’s completely fucked as he hears his song mellow out and you aren’t moaning anymore. Instead, he can hear  breathless little pants. He stays where he is for a second, eager to see what else he can hear. But there’s nothing — only complete and utter silence.

Mark doesn’t sleep the entire night. He can’t. He’s kept awake with the guilt of listening to his pretty neighbour. Or is it with the thrill of knowing it was his voice that got you off that's making him so restless? 

[strawberryg-cake]

When it rains... Albedo | Tighnari | Kazuha x reader (separately)

Category(?): Mostly fluff + spicy, so if you are a minor, please skip this one.

Hi! (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ. Strawberry here again, it has been raining a lot in my country lately so I got the idea thanks to the horrible weather that ruined my last week of vacations from college... Anyways, I hope you like this one, enjoy! ♡

Pd: The only one that doesn't have a mini oneshot? It's Kazuha, but I just didn't want to make him look meh so I didn't add it, sorry (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠).

Pd (2): Albedo's one is a bit longer, I just got inspired bc I love my eternal genshin crush a bit too much. ごめんなさい(_ _;).

✧. ┊    POV:

"It's one of those days when the weather suddenly changes from sunny to pouring rain in the blink of an eye. You're alone with him—what kinds of things are the two of you doing together?"

· · ─────────── ·𖥸· ─────────── · ·

❀ When it rains... Tighnari likes to cuddle with you. He wouldn’t even realize he wanted to at first, but due to his hybrid genes—which he’d be quick to point out if you dared tease or ask—he’d end up seeking you out and wrapping you in bed with him.

❀ His tail would curl around your waist, and his arms wouldn’t do anything other than hug you and keep you close. It’s probably the way his body and instincts tell him to seek warmth and stay near his mate. He might even use your shoulder as a pillow.

❀ If you dared to caress his soft, fluffy ears, he might let out a sound he’d never admit to making… Yes, he purred—but don’t you dare mention it, lol.

❀ Eventually, he’ll kiss you and start teasing you a bit—just because Tighnari enjoys seeing your reactions and how your sweet scent shifts to something deeper, more intense. “W-why was that?” Your ears are already red, and you try to put some distance between you two to avoid dying from embarrassment—but this only makes him hug you tighter and ask, “Where do you think you’re going?” Yeah, good luck trying to get away.

❀ If you return the kiss, things will definitely get a bit spicier. His hands shift from a cute, innocent hug to something a little more exploratory—going from gently touching your face to sliding his hot, bare palms under your shirt, caressing your waist and then your back. His tail will flick once before wrapping around your thigh—an unconscious way to anchor you there. And yes, his cheeks would be just a little pink... but only a little, okay?

❀ He’ll eventually let you breathe—take a break from being wrapped up with him in bed—and head off to prepare something warm like tea. He might work on the forest rangers’ schedule or dive into his latest research while you read nearby. But don’t stray too far—if the weather gets a bit colder, he’ll definitely wrap you back in bed with him.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

There you were again, wrapped in his bed. Tighnari wasn’t the type to be clingy or seek out cuddles, so having him almost lying over you was, indeed, a surprise. His usually well-prepared attire had been swapped for something more comfortable and warm. His long, fluffy bicolor tail flicked when your hands moved from stroking his hair to gently brushing over his ears.

“Do you like it?” The tease in your voice was clear, making him lift his head slightly.

“Don’t treat me like a pet,” he replied, but the way his ears twitched at your touch—and the fact that he didn’t pull away—betrayed how much he enjoyed your hands on them. One of his ears twitched dangerously when you applied a bit more pressure with your fingers. His breath hitched, and you only smiled like an innocent girl who had no idea what she was doing.

“I would never dare to do such a thing—!”

Too late. You felt him shift, and the next thing you knew, he was over you—his lips pressed against yours, one bare hand slipping under your shirt to rest on your waist, while the other pinned your hand away from his ears. Your cheeks flushed deep red as his body pressed over yours, his tail curling around your leg like a chain.

“Much better…” Tighnari murmured against your lips, his breath slightly heavier, while your face burned with embarrassment.

“W-what do you…?” Your eyes tried to avoid his—pretty hard to do when his forehead was pressed against yours and you could already feel his breath brushing your lips. He smiled slightly.

“It’s a bit cold outside…” His voice dropped a tone, dangerously low. “I thought it’d be a good idea to raise your body temperature a little. Stay warm, you know?” The fact that he was speaking right over your lips wasn’t helping you focus.

“I-I’m already warm, thank you…” You pointed to his tail, wrapped tightly around your leg.

“It’s the fur,” he replied, as composed as ever. The way he effortlessly shifted from dominant fox to calm scholar made you laugh.

“And the genes,” you added, giggling—until his warm hand moved from your waist, slowly exploring upward, lifting your shirt just enough to leave you breathless.

There was the faintest pink on his cheeks.

“Maybe… I’m not warm enough,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. His eyes locked on yours, a smirk tugging at his lips—before his gaze darkened into something more primal, intense.

“Good,” he murmured. “I wasn’t letting you go anyway.”

Good luck. You will need it.

✧. ┊    Let's pretend this man doesn't spend 99.9% of his time at SpineDragon ok? Ok.

❀ When it rains... Albedo likes to spend his time with you—probably at his tiny, cozy house or yours. The two of you would be reading in front of the fireplace, or he’d be sketching in silence while simply enjoying your company.

❀ You’d end up talking about his latest experiment or exchanging theories about a topic you’ve both been studying. Eventually, he’d get up to make something warm—not because he particularly needs it, but because he wants to make sure you’re comfortable and warm enough.

❀ If you’re into art, Albedo would show you some of his sketches, explaining in more detail the ones related to his research and how they help deepen his understanding. That would only make him more attractive in your eyes—smart guys are hot, and Albedo? He’s a genius... even hotter.

❀ Eventually, you’d end up undoing his hair and gently running your fingers through it—maybe even massaging his scalp a little without realizing it. It’s something he finds relaxing… not that you’d notice right away, since he’s not exactly the most expressive man, if you know what I mean.

❀ “You seem to enjoy playing with my hair… Is that something I should keep in mind?” Boom. He noticed. And of course, you blushed. Being the curious man he is, Albedo would absolutely pay close attention to your body language… and while he won’t admit it out loud, he’s quite fond of your facial expressions.

❀ The way your eyes soften when you look at him, how you smile without realizing when he explains something complicated… He notices it all—and loves it. Albedo would even take mental (and physical) notes of what makes you react.

Not because he sees you as an experiment, but because he’s never felt something quite like this before. So naturally, he treats it the way he approaches anything that fascinates him—carefully, thoroughly, and always with the intent to ensure you’re comfortable.

❀ He wouldn’t seek physical contact... directly. But he’s clever, and he’d find ways to make you initiate it without even realizing. If he catches you looking at his lips, he’d lean in just slightly. If you do the same, he’d tilt his head a bit more—and before you know it, you’re kissing him.

❀ His hands would start on your cheeks, gentle and deliberate. But if things escalate and you end up on top of him, his hands would move to your waist—holding you close, but never forcing. Like I said, this man is hyper-aware of your reactions, and he would never want to make you uncomfortable.

❀ Also, he wouldn’t deny how much he enjoys the feel of your lips on his, your body pressed against his, your hands tangled in his pale blond hair... or how you reacted when he applied just a bit of pressure to your waist. He didn’t dislike any of it—in fact, he found it quite enjoyable. An experiment he’d very much like to continue... to explore every new reaction and response you give him.

❀ Almost unconsciously, one of his hands would drift to your thigh, just below the hem of your skirt. And if you noticed and got flustered, he’d glance down and say, “Oh—my apologies... Would you like me to move it?” Because, of course, Albedo respects your boundaries. But if you don’t say yes, he’ll leave it there—his thumb slowly stroking your skin, making you acutely aware of his touch. “Shall we continue?” Yeah, that would be exactly what pushes you over the edge—hiding your face in his shoulder, your voice a muffled squeak: “Albedo!”

꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

You didn’t know how the two of you had ended up in that situation. But you didn’t dislike it either.

Your hands were tangled in his hair—that beautiful, pale blond, always slightly messy hair of his. His bare and ever-efficient hands rested on your thighs... And his lips—Archons, the two of you had kissed before, but you could never get enough. The softness of them, how they responded to yours with equal or even greater intensity when you deepened the kiss.

A sudden clap of thunder made you flinch, breaking the kiss. Both of you were left breathing heavily, staring at one another. His deep blue eyes locked on yours with unwavering intensity. No trace of shyness, just a quiet fire that made your cheeks burn. A faint pink dusted his own.

"Did the thunder scare you?" he asked, his breath brushing your lips, nose grazing yours. You weren’t sure if it was the heat in the room or something else, but your body felt unusually sensitive. So when his thumbs began to draw gentle circles on your thighs, you had to bite your cheek just to keep from making a sound.

He noticed—of course he did—but said nothing.

"A little..." you whispered, voice trembling just enough to betray your flustered state.

Another rumble of thunder made you close your eyes again.

"It's fascinating," his voice brought you back, eyes fluttering open just in time to catch the faint smile playing on his lips. Before you could ask what he meant, he leaned in just a little more. "The way you can be scared and yet look so dangerously cute... I find it intriguing."

Your entire body burned at that. Now it wasn’t just your cheeks—you could feel the heat creeping into your ears too.

"I-I’m not your experiment...!" you replied, shy and breathless.

"I never said that," he replied, lips brushing dangerously close to yours. "But I must admit... your reactions stir my curiosity, even now."

Albedo was being far too honest for your sanity.

"A-Albedo!" you protested—though not truly upset. You loved it. "And what do you mean by—?" you began, only to pause when you caught the faintest smirk tug at his lips, like he had been waiting for you to ask.

"Allow me to show you..."

He kissed you again, deeper this time, though still composed. Controlled. It was the kind of kiss that left you breathless, unable to think straight. One of his hands slid back to your waist, anchoring you close to him. Holding you there, exactly where he wanted you.

"There it is..." he whispered against your lips, sounding pleased—like an experiment had just confirmed his hypothesis.

"W-what...?" you breathed out, confused—until he explained.

"Your eyes," he murmured, gaze locking onto yours. "The way you look at me after we kiss. Your voice, when you're trying so hard not to lose composure. It’s..." He leaned in just a little more, voice dipping lower. "...unreasonably distracting."

Congratulations. You were now incapable of forming words. Entirely flustered. Embarrassed. Because how could he say that so calmly, while your entire system was currently malfunctioning?!

And if you tried to move away? Those pretty hands of his would gently stop you, keeping you right there.

"Wait," he said softly, "please... stay still for me. Just a bit longer."

And really... how could you say no to him?

❀ When it rains... Kazuha enjoys reciting haikus about you. He does it quietly, to himself, while watching the rain and thinking about you—because he's in love, and as a poet, he can’t help but find inspiration in everything that reminds him of you.

❀ So, if you find him and sit quietly beside him, he’ll welcome your presence with a soft smile, both of you simply watching the rain pour. Eventually, his hand will find yours, fingers intertwining gently. He’ll glance at you, and as your cheeks begin to heat from his gaze, he’ll softly recite one of those sweet verses—about you.

❀ Kazuha is gentle, composed, and respectful. But he won't deny that he enjoys the way your face turns red from his words. If he finds you especially adorable, he might lean in to place a small kiss on your cheek, just to tease you—and grin quietly when your ears flush red.

❀ If you don’t mind and the rain isn’t falling too heavily, he’ll take your hand and lead you outside. Hand in hand, walking beneath the drizzle, he’ll stop, gaze into your eyes, kiss you tenderly and whisper: “You are more breathtaking in the rain than any view I’ve seen in all my travels.”

❀ Once the two of you return indoors and change into dry clothes, Kazuha will prepare something warm—most likely tea—and tell you old legends from his homeland, Inazuma. Your favorite becomes the tale of a rain spirit and the traveler who fell in love with it.

❀ Eventually, as the room fills with the warmth of tea and stories, he’ll kiss you again, this time pulling you into his lap. At first, his touch is innocent—gentle hands on your waist, lips softly brushing yours. But little by little, his kisses trail to your neck, his voice dropping to a huskier tone, and his fingers begin to hold you more intentionally.

And you? You’re completely undone. Flustered. Breathless. But you can’t deny that you like it.

[dcxdpdabbles]

More mr. Flavor please 🙏

Danny gets to his motel, finding it occupied. It's the same man that got him a deal with Anthony's Pasta. He's lodging on Danny's bed, one foot hanging off while the other pressed into the sheet. He's using the headboard as a backrest looking rather comfortable for someone of his size in a twin bed.

There is a book resting on his knee, the cover out of sight, but it's the placement of his one hand holding it open that lets Danny know this man is a very avid reader. Only someone who's spent hours holding books knows how to rest the crease in between their fingers to keep the pages open but not bend the cover.

It's odd how comfortable he looks within Danny's space. Especially after the last few days, that would one day be a very funny story to tell.

He feels like he could laugh about it in a few minutes even. Were it not for the stranger ruining the zen of his motel room.

Danny stops in his doorway, the last few scatts slowly fading away as the man gives him a glance and then does a double take.

Despite the fact, that there is a mask covering his face and his red hood is pulled over his head, Danny can tell by the way his brows crease that he's making a genuine, confused expression under all that mystery.

"What in the world are you wearing?" He asks after a beat of silence.

Danny spreads his arms, making sure to let his fake fur whip dramatically as he declares "My truth!"

There is a long pause of silence before the man carefully closes his book, sliding into his leather jacket and rising. "I noticed that you disappeared for a few days. Where did you go?"

It's a bit disappointing that he moved right along. Danny was sort of looking forward to having to explain why his outfit was put together. He lets his arms drop with a slight pout as he scurries to his soda lab.

The day Oscar had him adducted Danny had just bought some new soda flavoring syrup, with the intent to actually experiment and create his own flavor. It was fun to borrow some from his home, but he was a Fenton, experimenting was in his blood.

He wanted to make something fruity, like raspberries, and left a combination to rest for two days as a natural ferment.

He feels the eyes of the stranger burning into his back, and usually, that would have meant he would be powering up an ecto-ray but sadly that was out of reach.

"I was kidnapped." Danny declares sniffing a few of the bottles he set out, attempting to figure out their state from scent alone. "Got ran over. Woke up in a hospital. You know, a regular Tuesday. Is today Tuesday? It feels like a Tuesday."

There is an even longer pause this time, where the air has suddenly taken a very somber air before the man speaks again. His voice modulator does a decent job of hiding his emotions but Danny can pick up the regret and frustration that slips through the autotone. "I'm sorry you went through that."

"Meh." Danny waves a hand over his shoulder as if it would wave away all the bad. "The worst part was that someone likely saw my soda formula. The rest wasn't so bad."

The man steps next to Danny watching him work in silence. Danny isn't entirely sure what he's after, now that he's seen that Danny was fine, but he's not about to be a gracious host. The stranger broke into his room- again- and that meant Danny was free from the manners his parents had beaten into his head.

He was still a little upset about all his stuff being smashed because of an assumption. Even if he did sort of make up for it with all the stuff he proved afterward as an apology.

He would not be offering to take his coat, thank you very much.

The first vile of his experimental sodas was unsalvageable, tasting rather disgusting when he took some sips. In fact, it was so disgusting he almost choked on his gag, twitching in place from the nauseating liquid he nearly hit the table.

The man moves like he's about to touch Danny but thinks better of it at the last second as the Halfa- or the human one that can't access his powers- coughs aggressively, gagging more.

Eventually, he gets his body under control so he can gasp out "Needs less buffalo, more wings flavor. Write this down. Write this down. Notes. Where are my notes?"

Danny has to turn over a few papers and scattered test tubs- he's never been the best at keeping his working area orderly which drove his Mother up a wall. Jack and Danny shared the same belief that if his stuff was a mess it was a mess he knew- until he came upon his clickboard.

He has to crouch under the table to find a purple ink pen- as all his notes are color-coded and changing the ink would make everything invalid- so he could mark it next to the experiments, Taste like Lord of the Flies.

He taps the pen against his lower lip before he adds Find out how to harness the power of spicy buffalo. He nods at it and reaches for a second test tube.

The man at his side clears his throat. "Did you seriously try to make a Buffalo Wings flavor Soda?"

"Yeah, it's my favorite food so I figured I could make it my favorite drink too," Danny mutters sniffing a new tube, and taking a full swing before he can convince himself to put it back down. He figured that if he attempted to do small sips, he would chicken out and not actually taste the soda, so it was better to down it all in one go.

At once his gag returns, making him recoil away from his clipboard. "Burger flavor is yunk. Hmmm. Interesting."

He writes some more notes while blinking tears out of his eyes. His stomach is turning in knots, as he scrambles some ideas of improving the flavor. Once done he reaches for another test tub- this one Pizza flavor- before the Hoodie smacks his hand away.

"Kid, you look like you're going to be sick"

Danny stares at where the man touched him, feeling a sense of confusion at the audacity to get in the way of science before he slowly turns his head towards the stranger. He feels his stomach flip ominously as the man raises a brow.

"Can we go back to your kidnapping? I can make the person pay-"

Danny holds up his in an indication of a hug which has the man coming to a full stop. He can see his reflection in the lens of Hoddie, and even though it's slightly spread like a fish eye camera lens, he can certainly say he looks slightly unhinged.

It's a few seconds of staring before the Hoddie, cautiously steps closer, telegraphing his movements as he brings Danny into an awkward hug. Once he's assured he's pressed against the man as much as possible Danny opens his mouth and lets his stomach release all the disgust.

"Ugh!" The man pushes him away, staring down at the vomit that decorates his front as Danny sways on his feet. He carefully blinks the tears clear out of his sight while picking up his clipboard.

"Warning: New flavors put up a fight. Ensure safe six feet distance from others." Danny nods at his own written words. He rips it off the paper, grabs some scotch tap with the other, and slaps the label on his two test tubes.

He then picks up five test tubes at once while declaring "Can multiple flavors cause death by poison? Let's find out!"

"No!"

He's tackled just as he is tilting the test tubs back to spill into his mouth. He screams, attempting to call upon his Ghostly Wail but all he ends up doing is sounding like a squealing piglet as the man uses his own fur coat as a makeshift restrain jacket.

"Kid, just stick to your usual flavors!"

"No! I want to see sounds! I want to taste colors! I want to touch smells!" Danny screeched as he was dragged away from his lab. "Release me!"

"Why do I always get the craziest smart kids" Hoddies sighs before he is flung over a muscular shoulder and the stranger walks out of Danny's room as the boy continues to screech. "Look kid, obviously you're not safe here. I'm going to move you to one of my hideouts and I'll bring you a better lab. Just stop trying to poison yourself."

"Release me!"

"No."

The receptionist crosses herself as they pass her desk and Danny stops thrashing to offer her a bright close-lipped smile- because he was raised with manners to people who earn it- and then goes back to impersonating a landbound fish, making more screeches that leave even Danny's ears ringing.

"The sodas! The sodas yearn for my brilliance!"

"Sure kid."

Neither is around when Nightwing crashes through the boy's window but that receptionist is, and she puts in her two weeks the second she hears him arrive.

[theliving-radio]

Hi hi! I just wanted to say I LOVE your big brother Malleus fics. The concept is just so sweet and the way you write Malleus is so hecking cute! How do you think Malleus would react to a little sibling reader who has always wanted an older sibling? Especially if reader is a clingy sibling.

I’m glad you enjoy it! (Imma be honest, I wasn’t really expecting others to enjoy it all that much lol)

The idea of Malleus with a Baby Sibling who is clingy is cute! Like this giant dork would love having his Baby Sibling Clingy!

It makes him feel wanted!

I usually envision the reader being an only child, and so suddenly they have an Older Brother who wants to take care of them? They are jumping on that opportunity so fast. Reader would go to Malleus asking for help on homework and assignments.

Big lizard man would happily help his Baby Sibling, and the fact that they sought him out just makes it even better!

Like you want him to him you? Him? Really?? Ok! Yes he can help! Need anything else? You hungry? He has snacks!

I’d like to think Malleus would carry snacks with him when you make an off hand comment saying you’re hungry and didn’t have the time to grab something to eat. (Also because of low funding from Crowley. ((Bird bitch)))

Baby Sibling who just sticks with Malleus whenever they can. They just see him walking in the halls and make a beeline straight towards them. He would turn and see them making their way towards them with a bright smile on their face. Malleus would think it’s the most cutest thing ever! Like his Baby Sibling saw him and just wants to come and say hi to him? Please! Please say hello! Big Brother Malleus would happily greet his Baby Sibling, hugging them and planting kisses on their forehead! Just getting cute aggression!

Baby Sibling who wants to hold their Big Brothers hand as they walk? Malleus will take their hand without any hesitation whatsoever. Why is your hand cold? Give him the other one and let Big Brothers warm them up for you! He doesn’t want his Baby Sibling to get sick!

Baby Sibling who mentions they are an only child in their world, and wished they had a sibling.

Baby Sibling: Like, I understood my parents couldn’t have another child. But still, it did feel lonely from time to time… but I have you now! You’re my big brother now!

Oh no… oh no, why did Malleus heart just stopped? Oh sevens, are you that happy about him being your big brother? Why are you so freaking cute???

Prepare to be crushed in a hug, this nerd isn’t letting you go whatsoever even if you flail your arms and screams are muffled in his chest.

AND THE ABUSE OF BABY SIBLING POWER!:

You weren’t a fan of eating your greens. Ever since you were little, you just hated it. You’ve tried! You’ve really tried, but the taste is just BLEH! Lettuce you were ok with. Spinach is pretty meh. Green bell peppers were cool. Green beans were ew, but you could tolerate it. But Broccoli? Death. Peas? Double death.

You were currently sitting next to Malleus in the school’s cafeteria, moving your broccoli and peas around your plate. They were the last thing to eat, and you weren’t going to eat them! That was final!

“My dear Baby Sibling, you need to finish your plate.” Malleus spoke up as he ate his own greens.

You looked over at him and made a face of disgust as he put another fork full of broccoli in his mouth. He glanced over at you in doing so and smiled.

“If you eat them, I’ll reward you.”

“Bleh, you can’t bribe me. I hated them since I was small, and I still hate them now!”

Sebek lets out a huff. Both him, and Lilia were sitting across from you and Malleus, while Silver was sitting on your other side.

“You should learn from Waka-sama, Human! He’s trying to set a good example and you brush it off!”

“Sebek I don’t think you have a right to say anything. You hate coffee,” you glance over at the half-fae to see his reaction to your comment.

And you’re glad you did.

The guy looked like he just witnessed someone insult his sweet mother and lived to see another day.

“HOW DARE YOU! That is a lie! I do in fact LOVE coffee!”

“Just with extra sugar,” Silver pointed out.

“And if it’s like 95% milk.” You added.

“YOU TWO-!”

Both you and Silver chuckle at how Sebek was getting heated up by just your comments.

Though your own laughter dies down when Malleus pushes your plate closer to you, pointing at your greens with his fork.

“My, Malleus~, you sure are being demanding towards the prefect today,” Lilia points out.

“Hmph, I have to be. My Baby Sibling is not going to fall ill under any circumstance due to the lack of missing nutrients. Now,” Malleus taps on your plate again with his fork, “Eat your vegetables.”

NO! You refuse to do so! Icky broccoli and peas go BLEH!

You began to grumble as you move the peas around your plate. Even stacking the broccoli into a pile. In doing so, you were deep in thought…

And then a thought hit you.

“Mal Mal…”

“Hm?” Malleus turns his attention to you, and his eyes widen and he stops mid chew.

You were looking up at him with big doe eyes, your lower lip sticking out just a bit to give you the perfect pout. You blink a few times to make your eyes gloss over just a smidge as you stare up at the dragon fae.

“I don’t like it… please don’t make me eat it…”

As soon as those words left your lips, your plate suddenly disappeared in front of you. It was so fast you didn’t have time to process it until you saw Malleus putting the Broccoli and peas onto his own plate.

“W-Waka-sama! I thought you wanted the Prefect to learn from your example!” Sebek shouts and slam his hands against the cafeteria table, making it shake.

Lilia began laughing as he watched Malleus hands your now empty plate back to you. Silver just shakes his own head and takes of his own meal.

“If my Baby Sibling truly doesn’t want to eat their greens, then I cannot force them.”

“Yay!” You started acting all cutesy as you lean against Malleus, wrapping your arms around his. Sebek looked like he was about to start screaming but it was caught in his throat.

The powerful Fae puffs out his chest in pride as he feels you hold onto his arm. You were happy, and that’s all that matters.

Big Brother Malleus is weak to his Baby Sibling.

—————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed it!

[puckinghischier]

Choices

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack proves that he will always choose reader, no matter what anyone has to say

notes: so, the first part of this is literally my favorite thing i’ve ever written. the ending? meh. i don’t hate it, but i definitely think it could have been done better, i just struggle so hard with endings 😭. i also lowkey don’t like the title, but literally couldn’t think of a different one. anyways, i hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

can be read as a part 2 to this fic, but can also be read by itself

request: Could you write something with Jack getting defensive/choosing her? Maybe he gets cornered by an ex flame or someone about what makes reader so special to get him to commit to a serious relationship when he didn't with her

[6.7k]

“Are you sure I don’t need to dress up tonight? I know you said they’re just some old family friends, but I want to make a good impression,” you question Jack, standing in front of the full-length mirror propped against the wall.

You’re wearing a pale, yellow sundress with daisies imprinted all across the fabric. Jack insisted the Lawsons were just old friends of the family, having owned the house down the street since he was just a kid.

Since meeting Jack’s family last year, you’ve been his plus one to every single trip he’s made home. At thanksgiving he brought you home for a quick, two day trip to meet his grandparents and a few pairs of aunts and uncles, before having to fly out again because of his game schedule. Around Christmas the two of you split your time, spending the actual holiday with your family, then flying to meet Jack’s family for New Year’s activities, where you met several cousins and old school friends of Jack’s.

This year, you’re celebrating the Fourth of July in Michigan, finally getting to experience the infamous Hughes lake house. Jack was able to convince you to spend an entire month here at the large house, telling you the trip was for the Fourth festivities, but suggesting you leave a few weeks beforehand, wanting you to get the full lake house experience.

You had spent your days switching between joining his family on the large pontoon boat sitting at the end of their dock and going out on adventures with Jack alone on the pair of Jet skis Quinn had bought after his first paycheck came in during his rookie year. A few nights a week, Jack would tell you to put on something nice, showing you around the small town a few miles away from the house, taking you to each of his favorite childhood spots for dinner.

One night he had told you to put on the nicest dress you brought, then proceeded to take you to an old, beach themed bar. He sat across from you at the high top table in a collared shirt and khakis, the rest of the patrons around you in their bathing suit cover ups or shorts and t-shirts.

You scolded him, telling him you two looked like fools in there, all dressed up to eat fried seafood. He laughed, telling you the only fool in the room was him, because he was “foolishly and wholly in love with you.” You rolled your eyes at his mushy-ness, a blush making its way to your cheeks at the same time.

That memory, however, is the reason you no longer trust Jack when he tells you to either dress up or dress down for dinners. Including tonight.

“I promise, you don’t have to dress up. You could wear your bathing suit for all I care,” he calls out from the bathroom where he’s ‘fixing’ his hair, which usually means brushing it and then ruffling it around with his hands. “I mean, mom might not be too happy if you’re sitting at the dinner table in just a bikini, but I’d sure enjoy the show.”

You scoff at his words, turning to go and stand in the doorway of the ensuite, crossing your arms.

“I’m being serious, J. I want to make a good impression on these people. They’re really good friends of your parents. Your mom was telling me how you all used to spend almost the entire summer together, constantly over at one another’s houses for dinner and fire talks,” you remember how excited Ellen was to be having her friends over for dinner tonight, claiming she hadn’t seen them in years because of how busy their lives had gotten.

Ellen also mentioned they had a daughter around your and Jack’s age who was in with her parents for the summer. Her name is Sarah and she’s a department director of some big advertisement company in New York. She stopped coming around as often around the same time Jack got drafted to the Devils, according to Ellen. Her job being too demanding for her to make the trip every summer.

You were excited to meet yet another person that knew Jack as a kid. You were hoping to rope a few stories out of her over the course of dinner, wanting to know as much as you can about Jack’s childhood from those around him. Sometimes you really hate the fact that you haven’t known Jack his whole life. You count yourself one of the luckiest people alive to be able to share his life with him now, but you’re always picturing him growing up, wanting to know every detail of what makes Jack, Jack.

Quinn and Luke are always eager to tell you anything you want to know about Jack, from the time he wanted to be “TP man” for Halloween and proceeded to wrap his entire body in toilet paper, wearing the empty rolls on his hands, to the time he wanted to ask his eighth-grade crush out on a date, but instead blurted out that he had to go home to massage their dad’s feet.

You always enjoyed hearing stories about him from people that weren’t his mischievous brothers, though. Like when his grandma told you about the time she got home to see that Jack had rearranged her kitchen cabinets, placing everything he saw her use on a regular basis closer to where she could reach it after watching her drop her favorite mug while trying to put it away on the second highest shelf that morning. Or when his best friend from high school told you about the time Jack gave him a ride home from practice, stopping in to say hello to his parents when Jack heard his little sister crying in her room because she couldn’t figure out her math homework. Jack stayed over for nearly two hours to help the little girl with her multiplication table and gave her words of encouragement the entire time.

You knew Jack was someone special, his calming energy easing your nerves from the first time you ever spoke to him. Hearing the stories that confirm he’s been this way his whole life, from the people that have known him far longer than you, though, makes you burst with so much love for the man you think your heart might actually explode one day.

“And I’m being serious, Sunshine, what you’re wearing is fine and won’t change the fact that they’re going to absolutely love you, just like everyone else does,” Jack walks over to stand in front of you.

You uncross your arms, letting them fall to your sides. Jack reaches down and takes each one of your hands into his, stepping forward slightly.

“I just…I care about how the people that know you view me. It’s important to me that the people important to you know that I love you, not that I’m just trying to ride on the back of some hot shot hockey player,” you whisper, referencing a blog post you were sent by one of your coworkers back in Jersey, asking if the girl in the picture was, in fact, you sitting on Jack’s lap in a crowded bar you went to for a post-game celebration.

The post talked about how you had been seen with Jack at a few games and were seen leaving several bars with him over the course of a few weeks early into your relationship. The blog site was a silly, hockey gossip blog, more concerned about who the players were sleeping with than any of the games themselves, but the accusation made your heart sink nonetheless. You knew you were with Jack for no reason other than you love him and he makes you feel safe, comfortable, and loved. Jack knows you’re not with him for his money, and anyone close to him knows you’re not with him for his money or fame.

He could quit hockey tomorrow and it wouldn’t change even an ounce of your feelings towards him. With or without hockey, he’s still your Jack. The Jack that makes you honey lavender tea every night because he knows it helps you sleep. The Jack that somehow manages to bring you flowers after every home game, no matter how late it is. The Jack that insisted you move in with him after your lease ended because his apartment is closer to your new job, but really because he was tired of not coming home to you every night. The Jack that showed up to your graduation this spring, bringing nearly his whole team and his family, the group cheering so loud when you walked across the stage everyone in attendance laughed, the person handing you your diploma commenting “sounds like you have a few fans out there.”

Even though you know that Jack knows, and his family knows, each time you meet someone new from his life, you feel the need to prove yourself. It’s part of the reason you were so anxious to meet his parents all those months ago. You worry that each person you meet has seen or read an article like the one you were sent. You worry they’ll think you’re not right for Jack, or that you’re only with him to get a taste of the popularity and lifestyle that comes along with his job. All you want is to show them how much you love him for him, and how you never want to leave his side.

Jack looks down at you, bringing your joined hands up to his mouth, pulling them together and kissing your knuckles.

“I promise you, no one here thinks that,” he starts, his words oozing with sincerity. “There is not a single person that matters to me in my life more than you. And absolutely no one’s opinion of you matters to me other than your own. Do you think you’re with me for the wrong reasons?” He asks you, waiting for you to answer him.

You shake your head no, breaking his eye contact.

“Hey, look at me,” he squeezes your hands that are still resting near his mouth, bringing your eyes back to his. “Then absolutely nothing else matters, okay? I know who you are, and you know who you are. Last time I checked, we’re the only two in this relationship, so that’s the only two people I’ll ever be looking to for opinions concerning my choices in this relationship, got it?”

You nod, a little embarrassed you were ever worried in the first place after his small speech, but still needing the hear his words nonetheless.

You’re still looking up at him, opening your mouth to tell him how much you love him when your stomach growls between the two of you, loud enough you nearly jump back.

Jack’s eyes flicker down to your stomach and back up to your eyes, the amusement in them making the blue shade shine even brighter.

“On that note, let’s go get you something to eat,” he chuckles, kissing your forehead before dropping one of your hands, the other still intwined with yours, pulling you out of the room behind him.

Jack led you down to the kitchen, digging around in the fridge to sneak you a snack before everyone sat down for dinner, knowing the meal wouldn’t be ready for at least another hour.

After he was satisfied that you weren’t going to starve, thanks to the small bowl of fruit he found, the two of you walked out to the back deck, joining everyone else.

The Lawsons had already arrived, Jim and Ellen standing on the other side of the large deck, conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Lawson separately.

Mrs. Lawson is a short, slim woman. Her hair is flawlessly styled into a ‘looks lazy but really took an hour’ up do, wearing a light purple, short sleeve pleated dress that fell just above her ankles, a simple pair of sandals on her feet.

Her husband is a tall man with salt and pepper hair, wearing a matching polo shirt and khaki shorts, a pair of Hey Dude brand shoes on his feet.

As soon as the two of you walked out onto the porch, Ellen was immediately halting her conversation to introduce you to the guests.

“Oh! There they are! Aren’t they just dolls? Look at them!” she gushed, walking over to greet the two of you.

You smile warmly at her, your relationship with Jack’s mom almost as dear to you as your relationship with your own. The two of you were able to sit and talk with one another during the hockey game her and Jim had come into town for the first time you met them. You both were invested in the game itself, considering all three Hughes boys were on the ice that night, but the intermissions were full of conversations and stories. You left the rink that night feeling like you had gained another mother, exchanging numbers with Ellen and promising to keep in touch. You now have weekly phone calls with Ellen, her interest in your life and well being matching that of her interest in her son’s.

“Mom, we literally saw you an hour ago on the boat, calm down,” Jack tells her, earning soft smack to his chest from you.

“Don’t be a grump, Jack. She’s telling us how good we look and you choose now to suddenly act like you don’t love being told you look pretty,” you scold.

Jack looks down at you with his mouth slightly open, putting on his best fake offended face.

“See, I told you she keeps him in check for me. Now I don’t have to carry the burden all by myself anymore,” Ellen tells Mrs. Lawson, earning a laugh from the woman standing just behind her.

You and Jack continue to have a small stare down until he conceded, choosing to flash a smile at you instead, sticking his tongue out like a child and earning a small giggle from you.

“Y/N, this is Deborah, but we all call her Deb. Deb, this is Y/N, my new baby girl,” Ellen breaks up yours and Jack’s moment, introducing you to Mrs. Lawson.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Lawson,” you say, removing your hand from Jack’s so you could step forward and give a small, greeting hug to the woman in front of you.

“Oh honey, Mrs. Lawson was my mother-in-law, please, call me Deb,” she tells you as she pulls back from the hug.

“Okay, Deb is it,” you laugh, stepping back beside Jack.

“C’mere, I need a hug from you too, Jack,” she motions Jack over to her, your boyfriend walking over to give her a slightly longer hug than you shared with her. “My, you’ve grown up, haven’t you? Last time I saw you, you were just getting ready to declare yourself draft eligible. Now look at you, the real deal.”

Jack blushes as he steps back towards you, knowing how shy he gets when complimented.

He may be cocky on the ice and in interviews, but you’ve learned that when it comes to the people that are close to him, Jack is extremely humble. He turns a light shade of pink any time you compliment how well he played after a game, or when his mom calls to tell him she watched his game on tv and cheered so loud she woke their cat up anytime he scored a goal.

“Just enjoy playing the game, is all,” he slips his hand back into yours. You give it a light squeeze.

“Ron, quit talking golf and get over here! Come say hi to Jack and his girlfriend!” Deb turns and shouts to her husband behind her. Both Mr. Lawson and Jim leave their spot by the heating grill and walk over to join your small group.

“Jack, how are ya, boy?” Mr. Lawson walks up, pulling Jack from your hold, bringing him in by his arm for what you call a ‘guy’ hug, each having one arm slug over the other’s shoulders, their clasped hands trapped between their chests.

“Getting by alright. Happy to have a bit of a break. Couldn’t wait to show Y/N here the ways of the lake house,” Jack motions to where you stand slightly behind him.

“Oh gosh, where are my manners. Hi, sweetheart, I’m Ron,” Mr. Lawson sticks his hand out towards you, shaking it softly.

“Hi, Jack’s told me a lot about you two. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lawson” you reference both of the Lawsons, repeating part of your greeting to Deb.

“Oh, no, Mr. Lawson is my father, I’m just Ron, dear,” he mirrors his wife’s earlier statement, stepping over to place his arm around her waist.

You chat with the couple a bit longer, noticing after a few minutes that Quinn and Luke are nowhere to be found. Neither was their daughter Ellen had mentioned earlier.

“Not to interrupt, but where are Quinn and Luke?” you ask just as Ellen finishes telling Ron and Deb about a recent cruise her and Jim had been on.

“Oh, they took Sarah out for a spin on the boat before dinner. She said she missed the water, so away they went,” Deb explains, looking over to Jack. “She’s so excited to see you again, Jack. She always talks about wanting to get across the bridge to see a game, but you know her, a workaholic and all.”

You sense a slight rigidness in Jack’s body language at the mention of Sarah. He responds with a simple “Yeah, that’s a shame,” not offering any other words about the mystery girl.

You were confused. You had thought Ellen said the boys were friends with Sarah growing up. Why did Jack tense up when she was mentioned? Had there been some sort of falling out? Was he not excited to see her? He hadn’t mentioned anything when you brought her up earlier, causing you to assume he just didn’t know much about her, having lost contact after they both were busy and didn’t have as much time to spend at the lake anymore.

As soon as Jack had finished speaking, you heard loud laughter coming from the long deck at the end of the house’s yard, seeing three figures quickly approaching the porch you were standing on.

“See, told you I could still beat you, just like when I was a kid!” you hear an unfamiliar voice call out, footsteps coming up the wooden stairs leading to the porch.

“Not fair, you didn’t tell me it was a race until you were already at the end of the deck,” you recognize the voice this time, Luke uttering his words between fast breaths.

As you look towards the stairs, you see one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen in your life step onto the porch.

She had jet black hair that fell to her mid back, perfectly pin straight. She had the greenest eyes you think you’d ever seen, and her tan skin was a shade that people usually had to be photoshopped to achieve. She was wearing a sundress similar to yours, but hers was a baby blue color, complementing her skin tone and hair perfectly. It fell right at her mid-thigh, and had a floral print running across the fabric.

“Hey, everyone. Hope we didn’t miss dinner,” she said, waltzing over to the wet bar to grab a bottle of water as Luke and Quinn make their way up the stairs, coming to stand a few feet from you and Jack.

“Oh, not even close, honey. You’re just in time. Your dad and Jim were just about to put the chicken on the grill,” Deb tells her daughter, beaming at her.

She walks over to join everyone, not stopping until she’s stood right in front of Jack.

“Oh, Jacky! I’ve missed you so much! It’s been so long!” she wraps him in a hug. His arms stay pinned to his sides, his body going rigid with discomfort. You notice the looks from Quinn and Luke, confused at their wide eyes.

He coughs, causing her to detach herself from his body, but not removing her hand from his shoulders.

“Well, that hockey training sure has been good to you, hasn’t it Jacky,” she continues, squeezing his biceps with a smirk before dropping her hands, completely ignoring you.

The second her hands leave his body, Jack is stepping back over to you, placing his hand on your waist.

“Uhh, Sarah, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, Sarah,” Jack says, squeezing you to his side.

“Oh! You’re the new girlfriend my mom was telling me about. How sweet!” she coos, placing her hand on her chest. “Jack, she’s so pretty. But, what happened to Macey? You know, the one with the pretty blonde hair? Oh, and the absolute insane body. Seriously, I need her personal trainer’s number,” she asks, looking around at everyone.

You think about your brunette hair and know exactly what she’s trying to do.

“Not in the picture anymore. Didn’t really like the fact that she kept sticking her tongue down some Philly player’s throat when she came to visit me during an away game,” Jack spat out, grinding his teeth.

“What a shame. I liked her,” Sarah waved it off, making a small pout with her lips. “But, I’m sure you’re great too!” she added as an after thought, flashing the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.

You feel a presence step up behind you, Quinn slyly whispering “ex-girlfriend” in your ear, suddenly making Jack’s body language and her backhanded warmth towards you make sense.

“Okay, well, time to go get the food on the grill. Food will be ready in around thirty,” Jim claps his hands together, sensing the need to break up the awkward moment.

“Oh great, I’m absolutely starving,” Sarah exaggerates her last word, turning and walking towards the sliding glass door leading to the kitchen.

You stand there, not knowing how to process what just happened, Jack’s grip on you as tight as ever. You look over to Ellen, who gives you a sympathetic look.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Deb sighs and shakes her head in amusement, completely oblivious to her daughter’s fake niceness and obvious flirting with Jack. “She’s something else, isn’t she? Such a little firecracker,” she reflects, nothing but adoration in her tone and on her face.

“Yeah, one that backfires into the innocent bystanders,” Quinn mumbles under his breath, earning a snort from Luke. Ellen shoots them a glare, darting her eyes towards Deb to see if she heard, but the older woman was still staring adoringly at her daughter in the kitchen through the glass doors.

Thirty minutes later, just like Jim announced, everyone was sat at the large outdoor table, food covering the large surface.

The food was amazing, the bowl of fruit from earlier long gone as you sat down to fill your plate, wanting seconds of almost everything.

“Jack, will you hand me the potato salad, I swear, I can’t get enough of it,” you ask your boyfriend who’s sitting to your right.

He reaches over and grabs the bowl, scooping a spoonful on to your plate for you. “That good? Or you want more?”

“No, that’s good. Gotta save room for dessert,” you tell him, picking up your fork to dig in.

Jack places his hand on your thigh, smiling over at the little happy dance you do when you scoop the potato salad into your mouth.

“Oh, I’m so full,” you hear Sarah say, raising her voice to make sure the whole table hears her. “I wish I could be like you, Y/N, I’d love to have seconds, but I just cannot hold another bite, I’m already so bloated as it is,” she places her hands over her stomach to emphasize. “You’re so lucky you’ve already snagged a man and don’t have to worry about watching what you eat anymore.”

You stop mid-chew, her words sinking in.

You look around the table, everyone looking at you. Deb and Ron are smiling at you, not at all reacting to their daughter’s words, likely not even understanding the connotation of what she just said. Ellen and Jim are looking at Sarah, their eyebrows raised in shock. Quinn is glaring at her while Luke’s mouth is dropped open.

Jack’s hand is digging into your thigh, his other hand closed, clenches in a tight fist on the tablet next to his glass of water.

You finish chewing your food and swallow thickly, placing your fork down and sliding your plate away from you.

“Oh, no, don’t stop on my account. I’d kill to be able to be as comfortable as you are. Not having to worry about impressing anyone anymore, just being able to know you’re loved, no matter what you look like,” she continues, taking a sip of her water to hide her smirk.

You bow your head, your face a shade of red you can physically feel, refusing to meet anyone’s eye.

Luke coughs, a faint “bitch” heard by your ears.

“Okay, I think it’s time we clear the table for dessert, shall we,” Ellen pipes up, her own smile strained.

“Great idea, let me help you,” Deb, either still oblivious or intentionally ignoring the hurtful nature of her daughter’s words, starts to stand.

“No, I got it,” Jack surprises you by standing, taking everyone’s plates and quickly stomping off of the porch.

You could feel the anger radiating off of him when Sarah was talking, probably choosing to leave the area before he said something he would regret.

“Here, let me help, too,” Sarah stands, taking a few food dishes in her hands and stepping inside behind Jack before anyone could protest.

The table is silent after she leaves. You sit there, debating on just sliding out of your seat and under the table, wanting to hide. Luke, who was sitting next to you, brings his hand over to rest on your shoulder, trying to provide some comfort.

You look over at him to see a concerned look as he mouths a silent “You okay?”, nodding your head yes, despite the heavy feeling in your stomach.

You look up again, straight at Sarah’s parents, wondering how they can be so ignorant about their daughter’s malicious words.

You meet Ellen’s eye, seeing a sad, pleading look, begging you to forgive her with her expression. You give her a small smile, shaking your head to tell her it’s alright.

Ron is the one to finally break the silence, looking around at everyone with a genuine smile, once again proving your suspicion they’re unaware of the shift in atmosphere.

“Ellen, please tell me you made your famous cheesecake. It’s been too long since I’ve had a slice,” he speaks, unable to read the room.

Ellen partakes in empty small talk with Deb and Ron about how she makes her cheesecake when you decided you need to go check on Jack.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go help Jack,” you say flatly, standing from your seat and all but running inside, the urge to walk over and shake the Lawsons while shouting “your daughter’s a bitch!” in their face your cue to leave the table.

You enter the kitchen, seeing the dishes both Sarah and Jack brought in littering the counter, but neither one of them was to be found in the spacious area.

You walk through the house, calling out Jack’s name softly as you pass the stairs, making your way to the small sitting room at the front of the house.

“Jack, I don’t get it. What does she have that I don’t? What about her makes her any better than me?” you hear the sound of Sarah’s voice coming from the foyer.

“What the hell do you mean? Everything! She has everything you don’t!” you hear Jack exclaim, stopping in your tracks.

Were they talking about you?

“Jack, we were good together! We had fun. I don’t understand why you ended things between us. Hell, I took a job in New York because you said you were probably going to New Jersey to play. We could have been the new it couple of New Jersey!” it was Sarah’s turn to raise her voice.

Jack shakes his head, a dry laugh making its way out of his mouth. “What part of I didn’t want to don’t you understand?” Jack spits out. “You had fun. You chose to move to New York. You thought were good together. There was never any we in any of that.”

You can practically see the veins popping out on Jack’s forehead through his tone, even though they were out of view.

“All you ever cared about when we were together was the fact that I was about to play professional hockey. You didn’t care about me, you just cared about what I could offer you!” he shouts again. “The fact you just admitted you cared more about being the “it” couple more than you cared about wanting to be with me proves it.”

“Well, sue me for wanting to live the life of the rich and famous,” Sarah says, scoffing.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Jack huffs out. “Y/N doesn’t care about living the life of the rich and famous. She just wants me. She wants Jack, not ‘Jack Hughes, star forward, number one overall draft pick’,” he puts on his announcer voice.

“All my life, people have only ever cared about how well I played hockey. Every coach, every teammate, every girl. They all saw me as a hockey player. They wanted me on their team, or in their bed, because they wanted what came with me: attention and popularity,” Your heart breaks at Jack’s voice, never having heard him sound so deflated before.

“Hell, you introduced me to people as a future professional hockey player before you ever introduced me to them as your boyfriend,” he continues. “With Y/N, that’s far from the most interesting thing about me. When she first introduced me to her family, she told them I was her best friend’s brother,” he refers back to the first time you took him home to meet your family, the subject of hockey not coming up until your dad asked if he liked sports, only to berate him for not being a football player. Later that night he asked him how hockey worked. Your dad has never missed a Devils game since, either in person or on tv.

“Her favorite fun fact to tell people about me isn’t a stat, or how many hat tricks I’ve scored,” he keeps going. “It’s that I love to sing Shakira when I’m in the shower. Or that I’m the only other person other than her dad that has ever made her laugh so hard water has come out of her nose,” Jack lightly laughs.

“Hey, Y/N, everything okay-“ you hear Quinn’s voice rounding the corner.

Cutting him off with a “shhh” you place your finger on your mouth to tell him, and Luke who trails behind him, to be quiet, pointing to the sitting room where Jack and Sarah are arguing.

“So, yeah, I would say I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted out of me, but I’m not. I’m not sorry that I broke things off with you. I’m not sorry that I found someone that actually loves me for who I am. And I’m not sorry that I brought the woman that I plan on marrying here with me, and you just so happened to be here too,” Jack tells her, his voice still holding a slight trace of anger.

“I am sorry that I never told my parents what really went down between us, telling them we just agreed it would be too hard and we needed to go back to being friends, because maybe they wouldn’t have invited you over tonight. I am sorry that I didn’t take Y/N out for dinner, trying to avoid what’s happening right now. I am sorry that you can’t begin to fathom someone can see through your forced smiles and backhanded comments, seeing how cold and rotten you really are on the inside. And I am sorry that your poor, sweet parents were given such a malicious bitch as a daughter,” He finishes.

“You know, my mom said Ellen told her you showed her a ring, but I thought it was just a gift. You’re really going to propose to her?” Sarah asks, annoyance clear in her voice, spitting out her last word with unmistakeable disgust.

“Of course it’s true. Bought the ring months ago, been carrying it around with me every since. Showed mom the night she met her, told her I was serious about her and that she’s the one. I think part of me knew that from the moment I met her,” you hear Jack say, hearing the tenderness in his voice when the subject turns to you.

Your head whips over to Luke and Quinn, your eyes wide and your mouth handing open. The panicked look on their faces is all the confirmation you need to know that you heard Jack right. He bought you a ring. He bought you a ring and showed his mom. He bought you a ring and showed his mom and was going to propose to you.

Before you know what you’re doing, your body is leading you to the entryway where your boyfriend is arguing with his ex-girlfriend.

“Y/N, no, wait,” Quinn tries to stop you, but it’s too late.

“You bought me a ring?” you ask as you enter the room, seeing Jack and Sarah standing several feet apart from each other.

“Oh, great, the woman of the hour,” Sarah rolls her eyes at you, throwing her arms up and letting them fall to her side.

You shoot her a glare, not at all concerned about her comments from earlier anymore.

You turn your head to Jack, who’s face looked as panicked at Luke and Quinn’s.

“Jack, you said you bought me a ring. Is that true?” you ask him, begging him to answer you.

Jack gulps, nodding his head yes.

“Right…” is all you can say, trying to digest what’s happening.

You look back and forth between Jack and Sarah, your gaze finally landing on the unimpressed one of Sarah.

“Listen, I don’t care what happened between you and Jack however many years ago, but I don’t appreciate you coming to his family’s house and acting like a nasty bitch to me because you got dumped and I’m the one getting the ring,” you tell her, earning a shocked scoff from her. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you took your nasty attitude and sad insecurities out of this house and elsewhere. I have something I need to discuss with the man that chose me .”

You hear the faint snorts of Quinn and Luke behind you, while Jack’s face moves from panicked to shocked as he looks between the two of you.

“God, you don’t have to ask me twice. All of this melodrama is giving me a headache. You’re not worth this. I can get any guy from the Knicks roster, I don’t need to waste my time on hockey players anymore,” Sarah says before she storms out of the room.

You watch her go, giving her a sweet smile and a wave on her way out.

“That was…the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Jack tells you, walking over to where you stood.

You roll your eyes at him, hitting him in the chest once he gets close enough to you.

“Ow! What was that for?” Jack asks you, rubbing where you thumped him

“For not telling me that Sarah was your ex-girlfriend when I was telling you how excited I was to meet her earlier” you exclaim while looking up at him, poking him in the chest with each word

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had anything to be worried about and get even more in your head about this dinner,” he tells you, grabbing your finger and pushing your hand down to your side.

“Yeah, well a lot of good that did,” you roll your eyes, bringing your hand up to softly smack his chest again.

“God, woman, stop hitting me!” Jack yelps again. “What the hell was that one for?”

“For buying me a ring only a few months into our relationship! And then for not telling me you were going to propose, you idiot!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around.

“Well, I don’t know if you know this or not, but most proposals are usually a surprise,” he tells you, grabbing your arms and holding them apart, preventing you from hitting him again.

“Still. Why would you buy it so soon into us dating, Jack? What if you ended up hating me once we hit six months, or you found out I snored and decided you didn’t want to share a bed with me for the rest of your life?” you ask him, earning a laugh from your boyfriend.

“I knew that you were it from the moment I met you. There’s absolutely no chance of me ever getting sick of you, or hating you,” Jack tells you honestly, the intensity behind his eyes causing you to believe his words. “Also, you do snore, and I think it’s cute, don’t worry.”

You try to hit his chest again, but your arms are still being held by his hands.

“So, is this a good time for me to say I never really liked Sarah,” Luke chimes in, reminding you that him and Quinn are standing in the entrance of the room.

“Luke, you’re such an idiot,” Quinn tells him, flicking him on the back of his curly head.

“What? It’s true. I liked Y/N the second I met her, but Sarah was always just a bitch,” Luke rubs the back of his head as he speaks. “Why do you think Quinn and I took one for the team and took the wicked witch out on the boat so we could keep her out of your hair for as long as possible?”

“Thanks, Luke,” you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Well, I guess it’s time to tell mom that she knows you’re proposing,” Quinn says, looking towards Jack.

“Oh, no, no one is going to know that she knows. I had this whole thing planned out, and I’m not letting Y/N ruin her own proposal,” Jack says, finally letting go of your hands.

“Do I at least get to see the ring?” you ask him, hopeful.

“Nope,” Jack shakes his head, popping the ‘p’.

You huff, crossing your arms and looking at him with a pout, until you remember his words from a few minutes before.

“Wait, you told Sarah you carry the ring with you everywhere, does that mean it’s here? In this house?” Jack’s face falls, eyes looking anywhere but your own.

“No…”

Your face lights up, looking towards the stairs before back at Jack, turning and making a run for your room.

“Oh no, you don’t!” he runs after you, catching up to you in no time.

He grabs you by your torso and swings you around, sitting you back at the bottom of the stairs as he guards them.

“Not fair, your stupid hockey speed and reflexes can shove it,” you pout again.

As you stand at the bottom of the stairs, Quinn and Luke watch the two of you, admiring how perfect the two of you are for each other.

Luke thinks back to when he decided to introduce you to his older brother, knowing he made the right decision, the two of you bringing out the best versions of the other.

And when he stands, hidden with his family as he watches his brother get down on one knee, proposing to the girl that stood at the bottom of the stairs, demanding to see her ring, he knew sneaking into Jack’s room and moving the ring to his own room was the right move, the shock on your face worth the two week long silent treatment you gave him when you found out what he had done.