#Also I don’t like most people so making friends isn’t easy for me

[makkie-is-screaming]

having a mutual you want to be friends with but knowing your the driest texter ever

[whimsyprinx]

I am so incredibly bad at friendship

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[monzabee]

pon de replay - cl16 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 

Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.

So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.

It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.

“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.

“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.

“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”

If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”

Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.

He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”

That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.

“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.

Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.

“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.

So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”

His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”

If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.

And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”

This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.

“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”

“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.

And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”

Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”

“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”

“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”

And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.

So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”

You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.

“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.

He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”

“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”

“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.

Or so you’ve thought.

Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”

“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”

You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”

That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.

“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   

“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.

“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.

So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”

“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”

“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”

“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”

“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.

That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”

And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.

[the-boy-meets-evil]

building blocks | yjh (teaser)

(agreeing to be the teaching assistant is the last thing you want in a semester where you're already swamped with work. but, you need a letter of recommendation from the professor and you're out of other options. enter jeonghan, the menace who signs up for the class seemingly on a whim and disrupts your entire routine.)

pairing: master's student!jeonghan x TA!f!reader genre: university!au, strangers to ?? | fluff, some angst, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI (for the full fic) word count: 842 for the teaser (est. 12-14k) warnings: none for the teaser (full fic: smut, drinking, eating, etc.) full fic: september 13th!

a/n: i wanted to drop a teaser of my fic for the TA collab hosted by the amazing @camandemstudios. those two have been working so hard on this and i can't wait to read all the fics. but go easy on me because i know next to nothing about structural engineering. credit to @caelesjjk for this banner, it's so amazing 🥰

join my taglist here or leave a comment to be tagged in the full fic!

Your entire academic (and professional, for that matter) career has been a battle. A fight to be taken seriously. A fight to get the right classes. A fight to make the right connections. A fight for every inch that you’ve gotten. There are times that you wonder if it’s all worth it, wonder if anything should be as hard as this. But, all you’ve ever wanted was to be an engineer. To be able to leave your mark in some sort of meaningful way, even if that’s also a little conceited. It’s all you want and you’re so close to getting some much needed room to breathe. 

Except…

You have to make it through one last semester of this damn Master’s program. You had been able to find a sponsor to allow you to commit to a final semester full time, with only part time research work. That’ll put you in a good position to carry on for your Ph.D, with your dissertation topic already picked and funded. Things had been going entirely too smoothly, in hindsight. You should have known. Everything about your application to the upcoming program is perfect. Except for the final recommendation. And, of course, the professor to give that recommendation won’t just give it to you to recognize the years you’ve put into this. No. He implies that there’s something he needs from you.

Nothing really awful, in the grand scheme of things. Not for someone that does want to return as a lecturer at some point down the road. It’s just that you didn’t really want to be forced into a teaching assistant position for Professor Choi’s introductory structural engineering course. It’s the course that weeds out who’s actually going to carry on with the civil engineer branch of the Master’s program from those who may switch out to something that better suits them. Which, again, isn’t a huge deal, except that you remember how burnt out the TA looked from when you took the course and it’s the last thing you need during your last semester. It’s also hard to know that some portion of your future hinges on doing this. It’s also hard to forget another friend of yours admitting Professor Choi had given him a recommendation without the hoops.

Whatever.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that. 

So you schedule your regular meetings with the professor, make a separate email folder for all course related communication, jot down the important dates, and figure out which lessons you have to help plan. First up is going to be the introductory class. Professor Choi comes in and introduces himself while you distribute the syllabus, an odd task when everything is available online through the portal, but he likes things in hard copy. Once he’s done his introduction, he leaves the rest of the first class to you, as he had with the TA in your course during your first semester. For a moment, you consider pointing out that this is a Master’s level course and you don’t really need to do the typical introductions. Most of these people have busy lives and, even though they’ll have to work together on projects, can manage without syllabus week. But, Choi is old school and you know it. You also need his letter, so what’s the point in trying to change his system? You’re not here to do anything other than fill a spot that he was having trouble filling, get your letter, and go. 

When you scan the roster before the first day, nobody particularly sticks out. There are a couple of relatively familiar names, though you’re not sure you can place faces to them, but most of the students seem to be in their first semester of the program. It only takes getting to the introductions for someone in the course to stick out.

“Well, I’ve always been good at building Legos. I figure, how different can it really be?” one student answers.

It takes everything in you to school your face back into a politely interested expression when the rest of the class bursts out laughing. Your initial reaction had been incredulity. Surely he couldn’t be serious. There’s no way someone just wandered into this program because he liked building Legos. The laughter from the rest of the class dies down and you keep your attention on him.

“Why did you really join the program?” you ask. That’s what every student was supposed to be sharing. A problem for this student, apparently.

“That is why I joined,” he says with an infuriating smirk. 

“What did you say your name was?” you ask.

“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.

You consult the roster in front of you and put a star by his name. This is someone you know you’re going to have to keep an eye on. 

“Did I get a star already?” he prompts, earning another few chuckles from his classmates.

“Something like that,” you say and then turn to the person next to him. “And why did you join?”

i hope you enjoyed it! and less than a week til the full fic is posted 🫣

taglist: @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @okiedokrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @jelly-n (strikethrough means can't tag)

[weirdmageddon]

the shift in lore literacy in homestuck’s fandom

i was thinking about how the people who got into homestuck after it ended—whose interactions with the comic are in a static, archived state, not an ongoing thing—missed out on information that was more common knowledge in the fandom at that time. i don’t know if this is true since i’m not on tiktok, but i wouldn’t be surprised if it was. the fandom certainly isn’t the same as it was before.

ive found that many people reading homestuck now simply do not understand things in homestuck that were common knowledge back in the day, with calls for “homestuck literacy classes to become mandatory” in response to baffling takes because so many people just now seem to have glazed over the comic without absorbing important plot points, and i think i know why this may be. i ended up writing a post reflecting on my time with the comic, my perspective and how ive seen this change. i still think and write about homestuck because it still fascinates me. earlier i quote retweeted that call in my thread talking about the temporal relativity of dave and rose’s god tier ascension in the green sun, saying “my homestuck literacy is 100% so guess im doing my part as a teacher by pointing out whatever i think is really cool about it”. this post im writing now started out as a reply to this tweet i got in response.

i joined the fandom in 2013. i was 11. i had been aware of it since at least late 2011, early 2012 when my friend ryan in fifth grade told me to read it but i couldn’t get past the first few pages. i remember writing a journal on deviantart around this time (late 2011-early 2012) that was mocking people who typed like gamzee, which ironically was very karkat of me. and i remember someone on flipnote hatena i was following was making flipnotes with the alpha kids.

i dont know what caused me to flip the switch into reading it but 2013. i got into it somewhere between april (i think closer to april—i remember it being quite a span of time between the last update before HOMOSUCK dropped.) this was the most recent page the comic, meaning there was no > [S] ACT 6 ACT 6 at the bottom.

i got into it during a pause in updates, which looking into it, was the year 4 megapause. i wasn’t sure of the month until seeing the news post detailing the reason for the hiatus and the status report of the comic’s development at that time. pretty cool i could narrow it down by referencing the dates of those updates and the news post to correspond with the pause!

according to readmspa, the year 4 megapause was a 59 day hiatus from Apr 14, 2013 ==> (EOA6A5) running to 12 Jun 2013, [S] ACT 6 ACT 6. then for a few months there were the first updates that i was apart of the fandom for.

and what an exciting time during the story get into the webcomic! when the updates resumed in june, part 4 of homestuck had begun. here was a glimpse of the updates in that span of time before the next hiatus began in october.

that hiatus was none other than the gigapause, the longest hiatus in the comic, which started october 2013 and lasted for a YEAR, and i already posted about what happened on the date of return.

but here were the main events happening in the story at the time i first actually got interested in it. i wasn’t aware of the full context of them then like i am now, but i was looking at the most recent updates anyway with interest:

the alpha kids just emerged as god tiers from their slabs in derse and prospit, blown up by the condesce and caliborn / lil cal-possessed b2 jack noir.

the journey to the new session started 24 hours after jack called an early reckoning in descend—for context that was about when dave entered around midnight central time and before jade even entered. it’s pretty easy to forget that side 1 of homestuck basically happens within the span of a single day—and at this point in the story, the 3 year journey (which was also 3 real life years) had just ended. john and jade emerged from the other side of the yellow yard through the fenestrated plane on LOMAX. john’s real body was asleep upon arrival in the new session, while his dreaming projection out in the dream bubbles came across vriska’s ghost ship to learn lord english lore with vriska and aranea, and go on the treasure hunt where they found the ultimate weapon at the X mark out in in the furthest ring. in the dream john stuck his hand in the juju, started warping all over canon which removed his real body from the ship on LOMAX. he zapped around for a while but eventually zapped back to LOMAX, now awake, completely out of the loop of what everyone else is up to, and bored as fuck. what was everyone else getting up to while john was asleep?

jade was now once again within the domain of the green sun. im pretty sure her space god doggy essence comes with the power to sense what was anywhere within the domain of the session since her face looks like she arrived at that spot with intent (and she literally has jack noir’s exact powers from bec’s prototyping. also this panel). she immediately dispatched b2 jack to the edge of the incinisphere, defending the newly god-tiered jane and jake. i think even if they weren’t in any danger, she would have warped to them instantly anyway because she COULD now, and i can imagine she wouldve been sooooo eager to meet everyone. even davesprite comments about her rapid departure.

the pre-scratch refugees arrived during the only time serious shit ever went down in the nobles’ months-long inert void session. the condesce used her freak psychic bronze-cerulean powers to commune with jade’s bestial side and mind controlled her, which is super dangerous as someone with the powers of a first guardian. she then used jade’s powers to corrupt jane with the tiaratop. no funtime meetup allowed!

the trolls’ meteor with rose, dave, and the remaining trolls was pulling up into the new session with no way to slow it down. grimbark jade warped there once it was in the incinisphere and took active control. she warped everyone off the trolls’ meteor and sent them to LOMAX.

as john was losing his mind on LOMAX waiting for everyone, the meteor crew warped in. after 3 years he finally reunited with rose and dave, and at least saw the trolls in person. close curtains, end of A6A5. this was the newest [S] flash page at the time, one of my first impressions of this comic, and still one of my favorite flashes. knowing the context of the flash in the story only enhances the retrospective joy i have at getting into the comic at the time i did because it’s such an anticipated moment in the story for everyone, while for someone with no context of the story it was still enjoyable.

so that’s what was going on plotwise when i joined the fandom.

from this time, through those few months of updates and through the gigapause, i was familarizing myself with the characters in the story and overseeing the state of fanbase, getting myself acquainted with the story and wrapping my head around everything.

at that time i found that a new-ish group called colab HQ who were producing a let’s read homestuck series on youtube. hearing the voices and the pacing of it like that really, really eased me into it (maybe it was my adhd that gave me trouble actually starting it?). i caught up to a certain point using lets read homestuck and from that point was able to continue with the comic on my own, and by the time the gigapause came to a close i was fully caught up. i remember the rebranding of colab hq into voxus about a year and a half after i discovered them.

but.. back to the main point of my post. even these posts from hussie’s tumblr exist in archived states. how many new fans know about hussie’s old tumblr? i don’t know, unless theyre a new fan that must scour the internet for more deep more dives on homestuck and its fandom as a whole. but since hussie deleted his tumblr (it exists archived now on homestuck.net which, alongside from the unofficial homestuck collection, has nearly singlehandedly kept the most important relics of the fandom and lore archived), that page is not an active part of the fandom now, because it’s gone. it’s a pile of bones. it’s not living and breathing. it’s in an archived state. the whole thing is already there. homestuck and its fandom history is something you now binge instead of slowly consume and meld with as it comes out. it’s now this rapid information intake that you might forget about if you read it now instead of engaged alongside it. you’re not surrounded by people actively talking and theorizing about developments anymore. the ability to have those sorts of conversations during the ongoing development of the story reinforced concepts, ideas, and lore over and over as we tried to make sense of it.

being in a fandom when the author is still delivering the story is like nothing else. it allows you grow alongside the characters and engage meaningfully with the media and people in the fandom space around you. it feels like you’re participating IN the media itself, especially if you’re interfacing with the creator. it’s in always having something to theorize or talk about and speculate. and people become very aware of these sorts of forgotten story facts because they were applying the logic of the newest official post from hussie into making their sburb ocs or something and share resources and discussion posts about “what just happened in this update?? recap????” it was this cultural osmosis thing. i think this is why homestuck literacy is now at an all time low, at least from what i can see on twitter.

reading homestuck then vs now is like the difference between serialized shows with spaces between episodes to discuss stuff and time to reflect and learn and become attached to the story, narrative, worldbuilding and its characters, vs the netflix model where it’s all dropped all at once and people forget about it after binging.

at this point in time im getting the sense that “homestuck elders” now are no longer just people who were there since 2009-2010, but now also people who were there while it was still updating, probably stretching into 2014-2015. there are many sources of lore that were common knowledge in the fandom at the time that, since becoming susceptible to the deletion of content and link rot, and with the thanosing of mspaforums, are no longer accessible at the source. and a lot of people moved on after it ended, especially following the epilogues, the kate drama, and the whatpumpkin-sarah z drama, leaving a void of information behind if not for archivists and people such as me who continue to keep old facts relevant in discussions. my friend has called me a fandom scholar before and seeing this post i think i get what they mean.

EDIT: there is a series of video essays ive watched multiple times (because theyre that good) and they are exactly what modern fans need to see more of. they really help contextualize the comic and the themes present in it help you appreciate the basic fabric of homestuck a hell of a lot more. i highly recommend them and encourage any fan of homestuck to watch them, or someone considering getting into homestuck to watch the first one.

i think this is arguably as close to the “mandatory literacy class for homestuck” that person was talking about as you can get, especially the first video.

additionally, there is also the website https://rafe.name/homestuck which is essentially a sparknotes for homestuck and can help you follow developments in the comic itself.

[seungkw1]

sketchbook — xmh

♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none

“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”

you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.

“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.

“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”

“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”

“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.

“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.

“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”

he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.

“wait! i like this one.”

you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.

“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”

minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”

“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”

“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”

you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”

“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”

“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”

you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”

you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.

“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”

“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”

one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 

“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”

“well, what do you want to improve the most?”

you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”

“sure, why not?”

“because that’s weird!”

“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”

“you?? right now?”

“yeah.”

you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 

you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”

minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 

you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 

you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 

you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.

as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.

“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.

“you hate it.”

minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”

“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”

he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”

you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 

“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.

“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”

he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.

“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”

“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”

“you’re the best.”

“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 

another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.

—

you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 

you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.

delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.

“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.

you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 

“nothing, just…”

he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.

“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”

“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.

“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”

“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 

minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 

you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 

you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 

just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 

but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 

you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 

“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 

“i…” 

you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.

you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”

he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”

minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 

“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 

“y/n…”

you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 

he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 

your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.

“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”

“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”

you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 

“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 

“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”

he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”

he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 

—

“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 

you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.

“starving, actually,” he admits.

“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”

he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”

“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 

you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.

“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.

you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.

“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.

“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.

he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”

“um… i-”

“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”

“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.

his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 

“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 

“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”

your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 

“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 

suddenly, he kisses you. 

he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 

electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 

and it's all for you. 

a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 

“hao…” you start.

he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 

“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 

“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 

you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 

“and why didn't you tell me?”

he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”

you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 

finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back. 

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ SPARKSTONE

tw. blood kink, noncon, pain play, lashing/whipping, toji’s foul n mean, degradation, prostitution, daddy kink, kinda size kink as always w me heheghe wordcount. 4.6k

a/n. thank you a million to the loveliest friends who always keep me goin when i'm having a hard timEEE rhi, wil and dymmiEE thanK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR betaing ily so much ♡ i hope i did the big man justice he is so yucky n i love it,, also extra shOutout n love dym bc she gave me the vision i saw i came i had to have it so !! iLY ILY ILY

fushiguro toji x fem!reader

If you know one thing from your years hiding in the shadows of the more powerful, it’s that danger has a taste. It sticks to your skin, longing for an opening. And tightens around your organs as you swallow it down, setting your hairs on end. Instinctually, humans know danger when they sense it, and by that same measure, they’re usually smart enough to hide before they get found. You might be simple prey in the eyes of the strong, but you hate the feeling deeply, and avoid it where you can.

You’re always aware of eyes that trail you, and you can smell it in the air.

The burgundy walls and nice chandelier bloom like a flower when it gets dark out. It fits the business. Like moths to a flame, that warmth lures men with a promise of a warm body and expert secrecy, and usually that’s plenty. Luckily for you, most of them leave before their wives start to wonder, which means you don’t have to deal with the drunk and impatient by the time you come in for a shift by early morning. Your days are easy, if you pretend you don’t know what types of people stumble home from their rooms in the seedier back of the building. Smelling of booze and body fluids and most of all, sex. That’s how it is.

Sorcerers are people too, by your cousin’s words. He’s not wrong. By the types of people that come in and out of the doors day and night, he made a smart investment starting this place a few years ago, and you’re grateful to get to work here. There’s no place for small-fry cursed energy users out in the daylight— and you’re not exactly dying to lay your life down for others in the first place. It’s this, or even less savory jobs for those people like you, who see things that others don’t. You’re more than happy with a simple life sitting behind the front desk, and going home to crash before the grosser individuals have a chance to harass you.

Which is why your skin itches a bit when the soft cling of the bell sounds so late it’s early. You’ve barely had enough time to open the doors. For not the first time, there’s a soft buzz of a warning sign that greets you as you sigh. Isn’t 5 in the morning a little early for even the more degenerate types? You get up to hang your jacket in the back room as you hear heavy steps make it into the foyer, and swallow. The slight pulling of cold under your skin has your lips pressed tight, swallowing. They don’t ring the bell, don’t yell or break things, don’t even talk. But they also don’t turn to leave.

So you smooth your hands down your pants, and eventually walk back to your spot behind the counter. It’s still dark out, still has the uncomfortable pressure that lingers as you cast a quick glance around the room.

And all you see is eyes that pull a cold shiver up your spine so quick it freezes you in place. The dark figure is splayed out with his arms over one of the couches, but those sharp eyes don’t move an inch from you when you meet them. Narrowed in their cold, metal blue darkness, and all-consuming. The man is not young, not old - but definitely older than you, scarred and quiet, and you can’t help it- when that foul, dangerous taste wells up in your mouth in the form of saliva.

After only a few seconds, you grab the phone and ring a number one, taking it off the horn for your own safety. It rings as the man gets up with a sigh and walks towards you, only leaving the space of the desk between you two. There's a soft mumble on the other side of the call, but because the horn is pressed to your desk, you can’t make out exactly what’s said before the customer - you assume he’s a customer, judging by the foul sort of stench of death that follows him around - clears his voice.

Only a sorcerer can have that sort of smell, and no sorcerer would enter here if not out for one thing. You don’t normally do intake, you realize as your hand trembles just slightly. You leave the horn of the phone for a pen instead, and try to rid your throat of the thick block that pushes on your windpipe. “Welcome. How can I help you?”

The man’s hair is messy, lazy, much like his clothing is; and he takes a moment to look around before his eyes flick to the stack of notes before you, the phone, and then you again. “Ah, uhm. Are there rooms open this late? Or early, I guess.” He ends up saying, a bored sort of lilt to his deep voice. You can’t even meet his eyes, but you can feel the painfully intense stare that doesn’t move from you again as you put on your best smile.

“There- should be, yes. Hmm, let’s see. Do you have a preferred girl you’d like to see here today?” Your hand only stops shaking when you press the tip of the pen to paper, if only to give your hand something to do as you quickly flick between the pages of the book.

“Not really.” He runs his hand under his nose, before leaning both forearms onto the desk and invading your space too much. You barely resist the urge to jerk back entirely, and feel the heat travel between you two. See, you were never able to fight curses. But you did always have a good nose, and his presence is like maggots crawling around under your skin. It’s unbearable. Your lids flutter as you stop flicking, and just focus on not throwing up entirely. Every part of him stinks of rot, oozing danger enough to suffocate you.

You simply pick one of the names at random, and start digging through the shelf for the correct key as fast as you can. Your heart hammers in your chest like that of a hummingbird, and is almost loud enough to keep you from hearing him when he speaks again. You can’t quite bear to meet his gaze, but one look up at his mouth reveals a tiny sort of curl to his lips that’s just as upsetting as the stench that swirls around the room. Everything feels wrong, and you want to stop yourself from hurling your guts out over the table. The man taps his finger on the counter a few times. “Are you new?”

Your head shakes faster than you can think about the answer. It wouldn’t be of any use lying anyway. For some reason, you feel like he’d be able to see right through you. When you finally find the right key, you feel like a weight lifts from your chest, and you slide it across the stone towards him. “I always work the morning shift, I don’t do nights.”

“Hm.” He doesn’t need to say anything else. Only when you slide the paper form across the table too,  do you notice the call has disconnected - you’re not sure for how long - and you manage to force your eyes up to face him for just long enough not to seem impolite. But your blood still feels uncomfortable and itchy, even when he slowly picks up the pen and starts writing his name down at the top of the form. After a few seconds, he clicks the pen to his chin, and looks down at you with a coy smile as he straightens up. “Actually, what about you? You’re a skittish, little thing, and I have a bit of a hunger for something light and fresh today— I had the longest night ever.”

His scar pulls when the smile gets a bit more predatory, and you feel pinned in place like an insect under a magnifying glass when he aims the pen at you. “Looks like you’re a good listener, sweet girl.”

“I- I-” you start, stepping back until your back hits the wall and even then, there’s not nearly enough space between you and him, “I just work as a receptionist. I don’t do-” You might puke after all. Those eyes only seem to get wider when your bottom lip wobbles, and you feel the sick sense of glee he gets rather than see it. You don’t think -no, you know- you couldn’t take him in a fight, but still your fists ball up tight.

The lift dings though, to your relief, and a familiar face rushes out to give you an up and down. Your cousin’s got a bed head, deep grooves under his eyes as he jogs up beside you. “What the hell, you’re fine! When you didn’t respond on the phone I thought something might’ve happened to you.” You can’t say anything back, but you’re so glad to see him your mouth drops open and a little whimper comes out of your throat despite yourself. The young man frowns, before glancing to his side and - pauses. You can’t exactly place the expression he gets, but he must feel what you’re still feeling laced in the air, because he blinks a few times before taking a step back. “What’s this?”

“I was just telling him I’m- o-only a front desk worker,” you start, shuffling uncomfortably when those steely eyes find your body, giving you an awfully unsubtle once over. Pig. He doesn’t even bother to hide the way he’s undressing you with his eyes. Your cousin thankfully hums in agreement, and crosses his arms over his chest. “So-”

The brazen noiret doesn’t hesitate to nod though. And the confident tone from earlier doesn’t waver a bit. It’s like he’s barely inconvenienced by your statement at all. Like you’re playing hard to get. You’re not. "That's fine by me. But I’m going to be the exception.” Under his sloppy clothing, there’s no doubt he’s fit. He’s tall, and obviously wired with thick muscle that makes his shirt cling to his biceps, even more when he crosses over the furniture to reach a hand out to you, and make your shivers so much worse. “Come, little deer. I’m gonna have some fun with you.”

Your cousin places a hand on the other man’s shoulder though. “She’s not that kind of employee, sir. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, or else-”

“Or else what?” You swear you can feel a pin drop when his eyes finally move away from you, now at the other man. Your heart still beats wildly. “How about this, huh. You let me play with your little friend here, and I’ll decide not to kill you, her and then everyone in here for making my long night even longer.” He doesn’t even have to straighten up for you to feel like he means it. Even without flashing a weapon, or pulling out some fancy cursed technique, do you feel the increase in thick waves of tension; drowning you in that same, rotting stench of incoming disaster. You can’t ignore it, can’t do anything but gasp shallow, little breaths when he does round on your family, squaring up to him.

Though they’re both about as tall, the stranger’s built like a brick wall. He must know that, because he laughs. “I’ll be very nice to her, don’t worry.” His eyes tell everyone daring to take a peek that he doesn’t mean it, but at least you don’t flinch when he looks at you this time. Ah, that’s right. You really do hate sorcerers. The black haired man walks past to come grab your arm, and tosses the key you provided him earlier high into the air before catching it. It instantly is too tight, and hurts. You plant your heels into the floor, hang back with your whole body. You want to scream. Your other hand claws at his strong palm -wrung like a vice around your wrist- and you start to whimper.

“N-wait, let me go. I don’t work here like that, I- leave me alone, let me go!” You get pulled along anyway, like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum; he yanks you with barely any effort and sends you stumbling behind him. “No, I don’t want- aniki! Aniki, tell him- I’m not- I’m not for sale.” Hair whips around as you try to plead with the man left standing in the lobby, but though he looks guilt-stricken and apologetic, he doesn’t move from his spot. You don’t have a say in the way the man dressed in all black drags you behind, even when you try to make yourself dead weight and stop him. “No, no, no, wait, please! Kou aniki! Kou~ help me!”

You get it.

“Let me go! Let me go, pl-please! Hck.” Your voice breaks when wetness spills down to your hot cheeks. Really, you do get it. But the lamb still spooks when presented with the gun, even if it doesn’t run.

You’re sat on the edge of the bed as tears run down your cheeks and drip off your nose.

You can’t imagine it makes for a very appealing sight, but whether it’s indifference or sexual gratification, it’s clear your grief doesn’t matter to him. Toji, he said his name is, but you only know that ‘so you can cry it later’. It makes you sick - the sight of him makes you want to dig your nails into your own palms until you bleed. This is how it is for the weak everywhere, right? Sit and wait to die. As the cold embraces your body again, you sniffle, but wipe the tears away. You’re not a fan of waiting.

If he’s going to do it, better do it quick. Before you decide to start biting anyway. The dim lighting of the reddish room doesn’t do anything to warm the mood except make you even more aware of him as he kicks off sandals, slowly, demanding attention. He stares you down like a predator keeps an eye on his prey. The scent is still suffocating, but there’s a more alarming feeling blanketing your senses now. You’re scared. There’s nothing you can do about it, it’s in the goosebumps on your skin as he walks closer, and you scoot back onto the soft mattress to avert your eyes to yourself.

You’d rather go out kicking and screaming- but with your fear ran so high, you settle for the second best thing. “So, you’re not going to kill everyone, but just me, huh?” He’s taking off his belt as you ball your hands in the fabric, and force yourself to watch him under heavy lashes, with as much hatred as you can. “You like that? Scaring girls half your size?” You’re not sure either why you’re running your mouth. It must be the high of incoming death. “Does that make you feel powerful?” He doesn’t even pause, and pulls his shirt over his head to drop it aside too, then licks his lips.

After a slight moment of silence, he just shrugs. “Yeah. It does.” You scramble back until you reach the head of the bed, and pull your knees to your body. And the man crawls closer anyway, reaching to grab one of your ankles and drag you back. You don’t know why you’re struggling. It’d be easier if you laid down and died. As if reading your mind, he chuckles as he yanks you down until you’re spread out on your back, and pins you in place beneath his heavy body. “Don’t be so frightened. I’m not actually going to kill you.” He pushes over you, and makes sure you’re nose to nose when he talks next, basically drooling as you try to escape from him. “Just going to hurt you pretty bad. Don’t you like that?”

You struggle against him, but it’s not enough. He ties your hands to the bed painfully tight, letting the frayed edge of the rope burn into your skin each time you move- and proceeds to cut your clothes off with the knife that was hidden in his waistband. The torturous pace at which he does everything is almost worse, setting your entire body on end with anticipation. You thrash against him as he places a thigh either side of your body, and grabs your face in a large, rough hand. Once again you feel reminded that you’re really nothing in the face of someone more powerful. It’s frustrating. It’s annoying, and hurtful, and a migraine starts gnawing at your head as you glare up at him. And he almost pouts at you in mockery. “It’s cute that you’re trying so hard. You can cry, you know?” He leans in to lick along the shell of your ear down to your neck. “It’s going to happen sooner or later anyway. Why deny yourself?”

The hot touch of his tongue sears into your skin like it’s poison. You try to pull your wrists loose again, to no avail. The skin just feels achy and burning. “That’s really what you want to do, right? Cry for mommy and daddy to save you?” When he pushes back up to your mouth, laying his filthy lips on you again, you’re quicker than you think - and actually manage to bite him. It’s not enough to cause much damage before he jerks back, clenching one hand over your mouth to shut you up. But he runs a thumb along his bottom lip, and slowly starts grinning. Blood glitters on that finger before he licks it away, and raises his dark eyebrows at you. “Aren’t you brave…”

Before you have time to prepare yourself, that heavy palm meets your cheek, stinging it all over and rushing blood to the surface — it’s hard enough to pull real tears out of you, and your nose to start running as you bury your face into your arm. The sting spreads under the surface like fire. The low chuckle he lets out is mean and predatory, definitely when he takes that as an opening to start groping you through your bra, and soon that’s shoved up too to let him pet all over you. “Good. I don’t have to feel bad about all this, then.”

“Mh- hck-,” you whimper, trying to ignore the painful tugs he gives your nipples, pinching you. It still sends heat to your belly, and somehow that’s the most embarrassing thing of all. You hate him. More than anyone. “I-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. I won’t believe you anyway.” He quickly whispers back, leaning in to force his mouth to yours and kiss you, tongue pushing against your teeth until you give in. He tastes like blood. His own, from the cut that’s not yet closed up; and he kisses like he’s trying to consume you. Rough hands knead and toy with your tits until you start squirming, before they glide down and make enough space to peel your panties down your thighs torturously slow. “Ahh, you look good like this. So pretty. Stay there.” He chuckles to himself as he gets up and you whine, not for him, but more his dragging it out. It’s not like you have a choice about staying…

When he comes back to you, something cold makes you jerk your eyes open. It’s something long and capped metal at the end, not sharp enough to stab you clean through— but it’s still hard and sharp and anxiety has you freezing below him. “Wh- what, what are you-” Would anyone even come help if you screamed? 

Toji slaps the thing into his palm a few times, before those mean eyes glide over you, and you find yourself crossing your legs tight to protect your most sensitive areas instinctively. The sound of the metal whipping through the air is more than enough to put fear into you. Your lip trembles when he gets back onto the bed, and mirth plays in his eyes. “This is going to hurt.” Then he whips his hand down and instantly, your eyes shoot open with pain. Blood splatters as he cuts you open, each impact leaving a cut and nasty thumping that will make a bruise, telltale sign of a cursed tool.

“Ack- no, no- please stop! Stop, stop, please! Please, it hurts! It hurts!” Your eyes clench shut, but tears well up and come out anyway, making tracks down your cheeks. It stings so bad, and after even just a few lashings, you can’t stand it. Everything’s glowing and burning, hot all over as your knees knock together. Another whip has you trying to pull your arms out harder, to no avail. You don’t want to look, but the pain in your hands tells you that the heat running down your arm must be blood. Didn’t he say he wasn’t going to kill you? “Please, please, Toji. I’ll do anything! Anything, please- j-just no more.”

“I refuse.”

“Please~” you sob, only opening your eyes to see how he stands bent over you with his tongue caught between his teeth, head tilted in curiosity like a dog. The whip is dripping red, hot blood down onto his hands, and though it seems impossible to have so much blood coating everything- it’s yours, right? He stays quiet for a moment or two, and the thick tears wobble over your vision. “Please, I don’t want to die. Please. Please. I’m -” your throat closes up when he leans his heavy weight down over you and hovers his lips over your mouth, “I’m beg-begging you.” One hand comes up to grab your face, and he buries his nose into your throat, where a wet tongue starts swiping along your skin.

The soft groan he lets out is foul, coming back up with his mouth full of your blood, and he grins. “Keep going. Beg like a good girl~” Then he dips down, forcing his tongue and the coppery, familiar taste into your mouth, melting his lips to yours as he hums. His strong chest meets your naked, pitiful form as one hand comes down to yank your leg up around him, and the kissing gets more distracting, warmer, deeper — you want him to stay just like this. “Keep talking,” he whispers again, lower this time, and when you’re opening your eyes his stained hands are back to kneading your tits. “You’re sort of cute covered like this, whining like a baby. C’mon.”

Red’s covering everything. Every cut on your body is searing and tight and painful, and he’s pushing his thumbs along the closing wounds as if he’s trying to leak every last drop out of you; but you can’t really feel it. It must be adrenaline you feel coursing through your veins like a drug, goading your heart into pumping so hard you can see it bounce through the skin. “Pl-please.” Your chest rattles, as he watches you. As he degrades you, lifting both your legs up to your chest to spread you for him. “Please, Toji. Please f-fuck me instead. I w- need you to.” He takes the knife used to cut off your clothes, and ever so slowly drags it along the supple inside of your thighs.

And though you jerk, and your jaw clenches while tears fall, you can’t help it. You’re shaking your head, but your pussy clenches around nothing. “Please, please, need you. I’m sorry, I want- I want it. I wan’it… daddy.” Despite the short inhale he takes, sharp eyes pinning you beneath him like the crying mess you are, it’s not his reaction that has you blushing, heat filling your entire face with that cottony feeling. You’re so fucking weak. It’s pathetic.

“Hah,” he snorts when watching you wiggle and cry, presenting your wet, little hole to him, “whiny brat.” His hand lands onto your pussy and it makes you jerk again, squirming against his strong grip, before he turns his palm to grind into your clit and his fingers teasing into the soft folds. The wet squelching doesn’t stop the stinging tingling down your entire body, but - it’s also so unfair. You can feel yourself drip as his thick fingers slide in and out of you again and again, pushing into your plush walls just right. “Call out for daddy, go on.” You don’t want to know how much of it is blood, or how much is your own body betraying you.

You don’t see when he takes off his boxers, now finally as naked as you are - but you do see it when he starts rubbing the head of his heavy cock over your slicked up slit, catching your clit every once in a while. He cocks one brow at you at your silence, and softly hums a deep, raspy breath. You really are weak. “Daddy, daddy, please- pl-hck- please put it in, I’m losing my mind.”

“Seems like it,” he mumbles back, a cocky grin reappearing right before he grabs himself by the base and leads his fat cock inside you with no further warning. He’s too big as soon as he shoves himself inside halfway, grabbing your hair as you wiggle against him. The other half is forced deeper as his cock bumps your walls, makes your pussy drool and clench, and your mouth hangs open as you try to keep from screaming. Your back lifts off the bed a few times, legs opening wider to make room for his thick thighs as he bottoms out and stretches you too thin. “That’s a nice noise.” He’s laughing.

You can’t relate. Your entire body feels wound too tight, legs locking around his glutes in the naïve hope for some reprieve— before he pulls back and holds himself above you. Scared pecs and arms flex when he pulls all the way out, only to thrust back in too deep and have you choking on it. It’s hitting so deep it leaves you speechless. “Make it again,” he gloats as he chuckles into your face, before kissing you again, and this time he bites your lip, hard enough to taste copper. Oh, fuck. You cling onto the ropes for dear life with your numb fingers, and try to wrap your legs back around him with a choked whimper; but you can’t.

You’re shaking, and your pussy’s clenching and sucking around him hard each time his hips meet yours and heavy balls smack against your ass. You feel like he’s going to fuck you through the wall. Drool’s mixed with the blood you swallow, letting his tongue melt to yours, and make you even more needy for air. Each pump inside you gushes more slick out of your cunt, lewd noises and ‘pap’s filling the room along with his grunts. And you only pull away to gasp, and get pulled down onto him again and again. “Daddy, daddy, I’m- gonna- cum.”

And he plants a hand on your throat to squeeze until your eyes cross, free hand going to hold your shivering thighs in place as he buries his cock deep into your plush walls. “Dumb, dumb girl- I don’t need- ugh- you to tell me that.” You’re folded double entirely as he keeps the rhythm entirely ruthless, and your belly starts tightening under your body jerks shut around him, crying out. You can’t even feel your hands anymore, and your breathing’s so shallow and confused you’re lightheaded. Your toes curl so hard you feel like you’ll pass out, but Toji doesn’t stop. Not even when hot ropes of cum fill the heat of your spasming pussy up and spill out— he doesn’t even slow.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[stylespresleyhearted]

POV: YOU’RE DATING CALLUM TURNER

or the one where i pretend i am Callum’s girlfriend (and also tagging @precious-little-scoundrel on this bc I GOTTA)

liked by yourinstagram and 56204 others

tmznews Callum Turner spotted with a mystery girl! Is the new heartthrob off the market? Link in bio for everything TMZ has on his new gal.

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user23 the invasion of privacy … yikes

user12 What does it say about me if I read the article because tbh I’m curious

fan12 don’t do it, lets respect their privacy

callumupdates Don’t give TMZ any clicks. Look at the horrible quality of the photos, they obviously weren’t supposed to obtain these. Callum will share when he is ready.

yourfriendsig At least she’s pretty 😍

yourinstagram stopppp haha

liked by rafflaw, anthonyboyle, and others

yourinstagram soft launching my man bc he’s hot and i love him ❣️ (oh yeah and tmz exposed us)

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fan12 GIRL THIS IS A HARD LAUNCH NOTHING SOFT ABOUT IT!!!!

user41 crrrryingggg omg iconic

user23 lol attention seeker

yourfriendsig It took me three years to be IG official with you, why does he get special treatment 😒

yourusername take a guess 😉

keoghan92 @tmznews you suck

liked by fan12 and 63917 others

deuxmoi Spotted: Callum Turner and his girlfriend at a pub in downtown London. Looks like no more hiding for this couple. Sources tell me they’re in love and don’t care who knows it.

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fan12 wahhh they’re so cute

user23 i’m so jealous but i also ship it so hard

fan41 my friend saw them making out at a diner last week lmao she said they were eating each other not the food

liked by austinbutler and 36072 others

yourinstagram so proud and moved to tears ♥️ the entire cast and crew did a great job honoring these brave men

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fan12 we love a supportive gf

fan41 what a great picture fr

user23 I met y/n at the event tonight and she was the sweetest, most HILARIOUS person its easy to see why Callum is in love with her ❤️

liked by yourinstagram, rafflaw, and 78912 others

anthonyboyle One Direction

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user97 OMGGG they’re so hot wtf

yourinstagram more like Wrong Direction

keoghan92 you think you’re funny huh

yourinstagram Callum finds me funny 🥲

rafflaw he’s biased he’s in love with u

fan91 cryingg she’s a part of the mota fam 💍🥹

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yourinstagram hi movie star ♥️ i love you - your biggest fan

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rafflaw 💍💍💍👀

yourfriendsig @rafflaw LMAO DONT START THE RUMORS

appletv Mr & Mrs Egan spin off?

keoghan92 sappy

yourinstagram @sabrinacarpenter

liked by yourinstagram and 639 others

yourfriendsig good times

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user91 … the hand on her ass … making out … CALLUM TURNER I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE

yourinstagram why would you post this when you know im missing him 🥺

yourinstagram brb omw to ft him

fan23 i love the way y/n loves him she isn’t afraid to be a normal girlfriend

liked by anthonyboyle, keoghan92, austinbutler, and 941633 others

yourinstagram social media making fun of me for this but if he was your man you’d get it 😌 i say that’s my baby and i’m proud ♥️♥️

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fan12 if i didn’t see my bf for a week i’d react the same way people need to mind their business

yourinstagram it was only three days but yes your point still stands 😆

yourfriendsig y/n you’re an icon

fan92 i love them so fucking much pls adopt me

yourinstagram okay! ♥️

liked by austinbutler, rafflaw, and 76043 others

yourinstagram someone tell y/n not to leave her phone unlocked 🤣🤣🥳 - anthony & barry here!

edit: got my phone back. can’t bring myself to delete my boyfriend looks so cute. i guess barry and anthony look okay.

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fan23 LMAO PLS HOW DID THEY STEAL HER PHONE !!!😂😂CALLUM TAKE IT BACK!

yourinstagram he was supposed to hold it for me it didn’t fit in my clutch and he sided w the enemies 🥺

anthonyboyle New profile picture?

yourinstagram i’ll kill you

yourinstagram also i think it’s important for everyone to know @keoghan92 stuck his hand down my boyfriends pants pocket to get my phone

keoghan92 and i liked it

anthonyboyle 😂😂😂

—

The End

Ahhhhhh making this was so much fun!!! Y/N is a bit shameless in her adoration for her man but that’s the point!!! I’d be the same if he was mine (I mean look at Vanessa Kirby and Dua Lipa lmao)

Marina this is for us because this man deserves our love we’d make him so happy 🙌🏼

It was supposed to be silly and funny so don’t give me shit obviously celeb relationships would be a lot more private. And for bonus fun check this out ⬇️

[temis-de-leon]

Shy gn!reader confesses to the Demon Brothers

Characters: Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo and Beel (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Part 1 , Part 3 , Dateables version

Anon request: Could I request headcanons for Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, and Beelzebub, react to shy gn crush confessing to him nervously?

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A/N: life became hard for 4 full days and writer's block hit me with the power of a thousand suns. Then I went to therapy and I immediately started writing. Here it is, folks, 1899 words.

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Mammon

There’s no doubt that Mammon loves to have fun. Either counting money at casinos or wildly drinking and dancing at various clubs, the sight of him with the occasional fling by his side is not a strange one for the demon folk.

He doesn’t look for it; it’s not like he needs to, anyway. After all, who wouldn’t like to be with The Great Mammon? He’s a catch!

But no, it isn’t something he needs to feel good. His heart beats for one thing and one thing only: money. Gold sparkling on his fingers and coins filling his pockets, what else is there to live for?

His brothers would never understand him. When Beel empties the kitchen it’s cute, but when he steals Levi’s figurines, Asmo’s jewellery and Lucifer’s wallet suddenly it’s a problem.

And what’s his punishment? Taking care of a dumb, weak, boring human.

You better leave him alone, MC! He’s a very important demon and he has very important things to do! Don’t you listen to what his brothers say about him! Listen only to him!

Also, pay him attention and ignore the others! He’s so much better, you know? Can’t you see by now? He wishes you did and he isn’t sure how he feels about it.

The pang in his chest, his reddened cheeks and his avoidant gaze aren’t things he’s used to, but they become the norm once he spends more time with you.

Enduring his brothers’ jokes and taunts is humiliating and he perfectly knows he would act the same if he wasn’t the one involved, but damn MC, why do you have to be the way you are? Why are you so easy to fall in love with?

You have to feel the same, right? With your stammering and your bashfulness, you have to feel the same.

Mammon thanks his Father when you invite him to your room out of the blue and blurt out your feelings. The situation is ridiculous, he’s sweating buckets and your hands won’t stop shaking.

He tries to confess back without directly saying he loves you.

Key word ‘tries’.

Leviathan

Love is not for him, or rather, he’s not made for love.

That’s just who he is. A shut-in who finds companionship in fiction, in the idealization of friendship, romance and loyalty. His expectations are set way to high, near long opening titles and uninterrupted rambles, and he doesn’t expect people to reach them. Is he even worth the effort?

He has internet friends who he met through online gaming and forums and he cherishes them very much, but it makes him feel lonely and insecure sometimes. What type of life do they have when they’re not gaming or role playing or just talking on video calls with him? Do they act like plain old normies, taking their partners out on dates or having lunch with their classmates after class?

He prefers not to think about it.

Your arrival to the Devildom doesn’t change his life at all. He’s curious, sure, but what are the chances of you sharing his interests? Also, you quickly become friends with Mammon, which says enough about yourself.

At least, that’s what he thinks at the beginning. Time passes, as well as the TSL quiz, and he immediately realizes that you’re not who he thought you were.

There’s no judgement in your eyes whenever he rants about the latest piece of media he has consumed, instead filled with curiosity and fascination; and not only you’re the sole person in the house that doesn’t make fun of him, but you also defend him against his brothers.

His romantic feelings for you grow strong and fast, but your friendship is what’s most important for him.

You’re so, so much better than what he initially thought, even when you remind him of himself sometimes.

The glint in your bashful gaze, the doubt in your words in search of the right ones and the everlasting fidgeting with your fingers. You are the perfect romantic interest from the perfect otome game and he can’t believe how lucky he is to be the main character.

When you finally confess to him under the comfort of the blue lights of his aquarium, you’re barely able to finish your sentences while looking at him, which in reality is a blessing, because he can’t bring himself to look at you either when he confesses back.

It’s awkward, but sweet. Kind of like him.

Satan

Romance is for him what a painting is to the viewer. A novel to the reader.

He understands the significance, the words, the colours. What the creator wants to portray and what the consumer interprets. Narrative rules, the significance of flowers, metaphors, history… All of that mixed with the abstract of the mind.

He understands.

He just doesn’t feel it. Not at its full potential, at least.

There had been partners in his life, years ago, and he knows he’d loved them, but he wasn’t in love with them. Whatever line kept him from going forward with his feelings is what made him stop trying alone.

Books and cats and the Anti Lucifer League are enough for him to be occupied. They also make him happy, so his views on romantic love are easily set aside.

He doesn’t think much of you at the beginning, mainly because he doesn’t expect you to last very long, but you quickly show an amount of potential he’s ready to exploit.

Diavolo dreams of unifying the three realms and Lucifer would do anything to not spoil those plans, so what better way to annoy his brother than through you?

It’s selfish and reckless and of course his eagerness screws the whole thing up, but it ultimately helps him realize he shouldn’t have underestimated you.

You are kind, brave and smart. You see him beyond his wrath and his academic knowledge, remembering him even in the smallest of details that surround you. It was such care and affection that made his feelings grow.

For the first time in his very long life he starts to relate to the characters in his books, his heartbeat increasing when the scenarios feel too familiar or when the dialogues replicate exactly what he yearns to say to you.

It’s thanks to his novels that he recognizes your feelings. The shy and endearing romantic interest quietly approaching the main lead, confession learnt by memory.

His first reaction is to be surprised. He doesn’t expect something like this to happen to him, let alone you being the one to reciprocate his feelings. How much luckier could he be?

Asmodeus

What better love exists than the one he feels for himself? He’s beautiful, charming, adorable, addictive and every other compliment in the book. He can’t get enough of them!

He’s obsessed with the idea of being surrounded by people, by their affections and their devotions, touching him, looking at him, singing him praises. Unfortunately for everyone else, his narcissistic tendencies only grow when those that fall under his charm feed into his “delusions”.

That’s how Mammon calls it, at least.

At the time of receiving, he doesn’t distinguish between romantic love and sexual attraction, although it’s more difficult for him to reciprocate the first one.

Deep down, hidden amongst his insecurities, Asmo believes no one would love him for his truest self. That’s why he insists on looking perfect at all times, following a strict sleep schedule and a well-balanced diet, going out to remain in everyone’s minds; always a trending topic, a sensation.

If his outstanding physique and impeccable personality aren’t enough for you to know he’s the best amongst his brothers, then his charm would do the work.

But it doesn’t.

When he purposefully makes eye contact there’s no sign of you falling for his magic and, suddenly, he finds himself at a loss of words.

He doesn’t panic too much, given that he is still a beautiful and powerful demon that could devour you in a second, but knowing that there’s no barrier between the two of you to protect his vulnerability gives him an unpleasant feeling of exposure.

Surprisingly enough, it’s also your resistance to his powers what centers his attention on you. You’re one of the very few people that knows him as he is, even with the ugly parts, and it doesn’t take too long for his affections to become obvious and somewhat desperate.

Asmo is elated when your behaviour around him changes. He recognizes the pattern, since he’s seen it many times in his fans, and he can’t believe that someone who’s seen him at his worst still considers him as beautiful as those who have only seen what he wanted to show.

Although you don’t really need to confess, due to him immediately wanting to be with you, hearing your feelings spoken out loud sends his heart into a frenzy rhythm.

The attention fuels his ego, sure, but it’s the veracity of your words what makes him want to cry out of happiness.

Beelzebub

He’s not really interested in relationships. There is a fling here or there, sure, he still has other type of urges, but he hardly thinks about it.

The feeling of emptiness follows him around like a metal ball and chain and the only consumption that can give him relief, even if temporarily, comes only in the form of food.  

He’s often seen as emotionless or famished and, although he knows he’s popular amongst many students, his height and muscles make him look too intimidating to engage further than necessary.

It isn’t something that bothers him at all. His love goes straight to his family and there’s nothing food can’t fix.

However, when he is told Belphie is the demon chosen for the student exchange program, the hole inside of him grows deeper and deeper. His urges go on a rampage and Lucifer has to give him a pep talk to drill into his brain how important it is that you are to remain uneaten.

It’s not like he’s very interested in you anyways, so leaving you alone doesn’t feel like a draining task.

Of course that changes when you physically put yourself between him and Lucifer. A stupid, idiotic, reckless decision that serves to prove how brave you are.

Your friendship quickly blossoms after that and, unlike many other people, you start seeing him beyond his hunger. That makes him cherish you even further, but it’s your dedication to helping his family what sparks a romantic interest in you.

Since he’s not that experienced in that regard, it feels a little intimidating, but you make it seem easy and effortless. The both of you are equally shy in your affections and there’s a mutual unsaid understanding that helps you build the base of a relationship, so the confession isn’t really necessary.

Still, hearing you say the words makes his heart flutter.

His response is short and blunt, but sweet in nature. He is blushing the whole time, not breaking eye contact with you, and for the first time in many years, he feels completely satisfied.

.

.

Tagged: @darkflowerav

[gay-dorito-dust]

Heyyy

So I really liked the Damian Wayne x reader platonic friend thingy your wrote. I really feel like there should be more of those.

Anyways, k cam where to respect something similar. Can u maybe write hc on what it'd be like to be friends w him? Like bantering n stuff and maybe u can focus a bit on how Bruce feels abt it? Oh and bonus points if the reader is awkward.

Toodles!

Being friends with Damian isn’t easy in the slightest, mainly because he doesn’t make it easy for anyone to befriend him in the first place. So the fact that you managed to accomplish that was a major achievement already.

However that didn’t mean anything afterwards was made any easier for you just because you managed to make the impossible become possible. No. Why? Damian is one hell of a dry conversationalist if Titus or animals in general weren’t involved.

He’s basically an extroverts worst nightmare given a human form. For no matter how hard you tried to bait him into giving more then a one word answer out of him, it always ends with Damian not taking the bait and allowing a air of awkward silence to befall you both while everyone else was having a better time then you.

You: hey Damian.

Him: hello l/n.

You: how have you been?

Him: in peak condition, why?

You: it’s because I don’t see you that much outside of school, it’s almost as if your allergic to social interaction.

Him: Tt. why should I go out of my way to do such a thing? I have you as an acquaintance don’t I?

You: I mean yeah I guess-

Him: then I have no need to expand my friend group, for they’ll only disappoint me. Now is that all?

You: I mean there’s not much else to talk about at this point.

Him: good.

*cue to the pair of you sitting in utter, awkward silence*

When Damian says one friend is all he needs, he genuinely means it. One is enough for him. He doesn’t need anymore because he knows that he doesn’t have the time for them. Plus he might not say it out loud but he does appreciate your friendship, even if your both awkward individuals within most social situations, but he is happy that someone finally gave him a chance to be a friend.

So even if you were to ever ask why you were friends it’ll probably go something a bit like this;

You: why are you friends with me?

Him: you aren’t an idiot, plus you’re the only one who isn’t insufferable.

You: is that meant to be taken as a compliment or…

Him: take it as you see fit.

You: okay…

Damian as a friend would be protective i’d like to think? I mean you are literally the first friend he’s made so naturally he’s going to feel something when he sees you being friends with anyone else that wasn’t him.

Was it insecurity that you not day might not want to be his friend anymore? Possibly.

Will he ever admit to it though? No. This is Damian we’re talking about, of course he won’t.

Also being friends with Damian would best summed up as being two people who shouldn’t work but ultimately do either way, kind of like an ‘against all their differences they’re the best of friends’ type of duo because nobody and I mean nobody saw a friendship between you two ever happening. Ever.

Not even the great Bruce Wayne.

Speaking about him. If you ever got to visit the Wayne Manor and meet his father aka THE Bruce Wayne. Take it as a sign as you’ve made it as Damian’s best friend.

Would you shit yourself upon meeting quite possibly the most powerful man in Gotham? Yes and your sweating buckets on top of that, all the while Damian would be stood next to you completely unfazed as he introduced you to his father as his best mate.

Damian: father.

Bruce: Damian.

Damian: *points to you* this is my best friend and I expect that they get treated with respect during their visit here.

You: hi- hello it’s an honour to meet you M-Mr Wayne sir.

Bruce: tell me how you’ve come to befriend my son?

You: we were in the same art class and I noticed that he had no one to sit next to, and so I offered for him to sit with me, keep in mind I’m not that well liked and practically had a whole table to myself, and I’d like to think our friendship started with that small act of kindness Mr Wayne sir.

Bruce: and had Damian been kind to you?

You: in his own unique way sir but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Bruce: *smiled* you’re a good kid l/n and you can go ahead and drop the formalities and call me Bruce instead. I shall go and tell Alfred to add another plate at the dinner table tonight.

Bruce, upon hearing that Damian had made a friend, wanted to meet you within immediate effect and see whether or not his son made for a good judge of character and he wasn’t disappointed.

Given the fact that you were awkward aside, you were defiantly what Damian needed for a friend, and Bruce was happy to see his son finally get to be normal for once as he watched from the window as Damian practically dragged you out to the spacious backyard with an excitable Titus on your heels as the Great Dane tried to get up and personal with you.

Alfred: they are certainly a pair, aren’t they master Bruce.

Bruce: an odd pair they may seem but they even out the other perfectly. Besides when was the last time Damian looked genuinely happy?

Alfred; can’t say that I recall sir.

Bruce: neither can I. At first I was sceptical but I’m glad being wrong. I can only hope that a friendship like theirs will stand the test of time because there will be times that will test their limits with one another. But if they’re as good a pair as I think they are then they’ll be perfectly fine.

Alfred: couldn’t have put it better myself sir *smiles alongside Bruce as they watched you and Damian act on your own within the others presence while in comfortable silence as Titus fell asleep at both of your feet.*

Yeah you’ll both be alright. You’ve got each other after all and that’s what matters at the end of the day.

[onsomenewsht]

now playing: Don't Tell My Mom

< track 3 || track 5 >

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader (past), María León x Reader (platonic), Leah Williamson x Reader (platonic)

》 words count: +1.5k

》 what you don't know won't hurt you, oh / Mama, I'll lie, just for you

As soon as your phone lights up with a Facetime call, you know. 

No warning message, no text just to make sure you’re free to talk. A cold Facetime request from María, one of your best friends but definitely someone who means trouble if calling like that.

Launching yourself on your sofa unceremoniously, you accept the call and your fate as Mapi’s grin appears on your broken screen. How can she be so smug even miles away goes beyond you.

“Who died?”

Not the most warm way to start a conversation.

“Hola a ti también, nena” (Hello to you too)

“You look awful”

She looks amazing, she’s practically glowing and you’re happy for her.

Also, you’re happy for yourself too. It’s a relief this is not the scolding call you’ve been waiting for quite some time. It’s coming, you can feel it, but Ingrid enters the frame and you immediately know this is good news.

“Tienes que ser buena conmigo” (You should be nicer to me)

Mapi really isn’t the type to tiptoe around something so you don’t get why she didn’t start this conversation by screaming the news. Or making the journey and knocking on your door directly.

You let her be, she probably wants to enjoy it.

“Why should I? I moved to another country just to avoid it”

“Nena”, she pauses and her smile dims for a moment.

She knows English better than she lets everyone believe, so she gets the quip - or your attempt to joke about it. You’re not sure if it’s because of what you said or something else entirely, the two of you have yet to talk about the reason why you’re single and in another country.

Your transfer was eventful, to say at least. The faded blonde didn’t handle it very well, having taken you under her wing when you first moved from a mid-table club in your home country to Barcelona Femení - after a couple of years on a loan in different leagues too.

María’s the one who welcomed you in the locker room with rapid words and contagious enthusiasm. She kept talking with you in Spanish, even if you needed an entire year to be able to hold a simple conversation in your third language, but she’s someone you relied on since the very beginning. 

María’s also the first one to realise something was growing between you and Alexia, the first - and the loudest - to cheer when you mindlessly kissed in front of the team mid night out, the first one to give you both a shovel talk.

Sometimes it’s way too easy to forget how many people you can hurt with a decision that’s just your own to make.

You feel the need to take the conversation back on track.

“When is the wedding?”

“¿Quién te lo dijo?!” (Who told you?!)

“Your stupid face”, thankfully the Spaniard gets her brightness back at your words, “And I can see that huge rock even from here!”

Ingrid is matching a beaming smile, moving her hand closer to the camera and you can’t hold back your own joy. They truly deserve the devotion and support they share with one another. If you have to be happy for someone else’s love, you’re glad it’s for them.

And that ring is impressive. 

The memory of a beautiful ring hidden in a shoe box in the back of a closet makes you shiver. Is it still there or she got rid of it as first thing after dropping you off at the airport? Does Mapi know about it?

“Show off, that’s worth my value”

“Tonterías!, no eres tan buena” (Bullshit, you’re not even that good!)

“You are, she’s just too proud to admit it”, at Ingrid’s first words you immediately remember why lately she’s the one you like the most of the two.

“Haz la maleta y no quiero excusas, volverás aquí” (Pack you beg and no excuses, you’re coming back here)

Mapi’s witty remark is not missed, she saw you growing up and developing your very own unhealthy coping mechanism. Maybe you have a tendency to avoid confrontation, what about that? She goes for any adrenalin rush activity available when in denial so she’s not in the position to judge. 

You shift uncomfortably under their gazes, sitting upright but hitting the back of the sofa with your head.

You may be in a different country and there may be a screen between you and the pair, but María is still like a big sister to you and the other girl is basically the only reason you’re still sane and survived throughout your friendship with the Spaniard.

However, you can’t let them know how broken you are, not when you regret nothing that led to this.

“Why not Norway?”, worth a shot.

“We’re basically going to celebrate in any corner of the world, I don’t think you can miss this”

“Then I can be anywhere else, Ingrid”

“Mapi’s family is gonna be here”, and you’re her family too it’s what she’s too considerate to say aloud but you all hear anyway.

“I don’t think is a good idea, no one want me there”

“That’s not true”

“Nena, por favor!”

The silence is deafening, when you find the gut to look at your friends it’s easy to remember the love, the support, and respect that bond your relationships.

A transfer to another country, all the attempts to hide from the consequences of your own choices, the hearts broken. None of those things are really able to cut those kinds of connections.

“I’m happy for you two”, you say with the biggest and most sincere smile in a while.

Mapi accepts your decision to keep the conversation light, focusing on this happy and long awaited news. 

She’s glowing and you really are happy for her, for them. The desire to celebrate their love, to be there when they will share such pure joy with all the people they care about, sweeps away your fears of being confronted by the human form of the consequences of your own choices.

When the call ends, the usual weight you feel between your ribs doesn’t make your breathing heavier and the familiar bitter taste of guilt doesn’t pervade your mouth. 

You book a ticket to Barcelona before it all comes back to you.

~

“Mapi and Ingrid are getting married”

“It’s a plague!”

Leah is unlacing her boots, the two of you the last ones in the changing room after an additional training session the blonde insisted you needed. 

You’re playing in a slightly different position here, but you feel like those extra hours are more for her sake than your own, scared that you will find a way to avoid your new teammates if not involved in any possible activity.

You indulge her, you’re used to demanding and perfectionist captains after all.

“I have to go back to Barcelona”

“I bet, she’s gonna drag you there personally otherwise”

“María is not that―”

“I’m talking about Engen”, she smirks and she is right, Ingrid is way more effective in her convincing methods.

Still sitting on the bench in your training gear, you let her understand you’re not ready to leave yet. Not the room nor the conversation.

“What’s the problem, trotter?”

She managed to give you the worst nickname possible, making fun both of your way to run on the pitch and the fact you spent the past ten years in five different countries - it’s probably also a quip about the circumstances that bring you here but you give her the benefit of the doubt.

“No problem at all, I’m happy for them”

“They’re really cute”

“They are”, you miss them.

You miss the familiar embrace and the easy banter you share with María, you miss the warm support and the nights out with Ingrid, you miss the silence and the comforting methods Keira always found to take your homesickness away, you miss the funny and the cheerful attitude you wrap yourself around with Jana, Claudia and Ona. You miss them all.

You miss Alexia.

You miss how she always finds time to walk her dog out, doesn’t matter the weather or her busy schedule. You miss the subtle way she turns the radio’ volume up when a song she knows you like is on, and the not-so-subtle way she pretends to hate them all just to sing with you on the first chorus. You miss her body fitting perfectly all over your life, when moving in your house like it’s built around her, or when she’s ideally positioned on the pitch to receive your pass, or even when her hands find yours despite everything and everywhere you are.

You miss Alexia but you don’t deserve to grieve something you killed yourself.

“Do you need a pep talk from Kim?”

“Don’t you dare!”

Last time Leah called on your team captain to put up with your somber mood, you ended on the bench for two games yet sent her a nice bouquet as an apology - and as a thanks for the help.

“Look, you can’t hide from her forever”

“I can definitely try”

The smile she directs to you is both amused and bushed.

“I just don’t think our closest friend’s wedding is the best occasion to meet her for the first time after… well, after everything”, you admit while repeatedly hitting the changing room’s wall with the back of your head.

“Maybe not, maybe we will have to face them in the next Champion League’s draw”

She jinxed it.

[cherriegyuu]

asellus australis | jww | part 1

pairing: wonwoo x f!reader genre: fluff, romance, idiots to lovers word count: 6k summary: Wonwoo couldn’t possibly be the only person living in Sydney who didn’t know how to swim, so he reluctantly says yes to the lessons his friends signed him up for. When he learns that you are his instructor, he figures learning how to swim as an adult isn’t all that embarrassing after all warnings: fear of water, mentions of drowning a/n: this is part of the @svthub 2024 world tour collab. please head there to check out other fics under this collab. if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and leave a comment, it really does mean the world to me and i would love to know your thoughts. thank you! 💕

It was the kids' laughter that brought your mind out of its newest daydream. It was hard to keep yourself focused on what was happening right in front of you rather than on what had already happened. It was a new feeling and so completely out of character for you. 

A couple of weeks had gone by since you attended a certain party, one you didn’t want to go to. You were too tired from the week and there was a little hint of emotional exhaustion to put yourself through a situation where everything would eventually turn out to be too much. 

It had been so easy to find a quiet place further in at the back, away from all the people and their noisiness. There was only so much music and chatter you could block out just by standing away though.

You sipped your drink, something sweet and fruity Kira had gotten you before drifting off to wherever she wanted to go. It was somewhat frustrating to have gone there because of her and having her pull away from you the second you got there. But at the same time, you understood why she did it. Whoever her new crush was, he was at the party, which meant that she saw an opportunity. Kira was never one to be at a party by herself, and unfortunately, Nina had a better excuse to not be there than “I’m tired”, so you had to be the one to tag along. Though it wasn’t entirely too bad, it was a little boring. 

And then he showed up. 

You had never seen him before, which considering that you didn’t know a single person at the party wasn’t surprising at all. You knew Kira and maybe a couple of others in passing. You made a mental note to ask her how she found out at that party. 

There was no way for you to look away from him. It was like there was this spotlight on him, just on him, making everyone else around pale. 

Somehow he had ended up by your side, claiming to also be running away from his friends and the noise. 

“This isn’t really my scene,” he said “I don’t even know how they managed to drag me out here, to be honest”

You blushed a little when he looked at you, a smile wide on his face. It was enough to make your heart skip a beat. 

“I’m Wonwoo”, his hand stretched out while his left one adjusted the glasses in his nose. 

“Hi”

You let your hand be wrapped by his. You had never felt quite that shy before while meeting someone. Usually, you were the talkative one. 

“I wasn’t supposed to come out tonight” you admitted “but I’m kind of glad I did”

Was that possibly crossing a line? You weren’t sure, it probably was but early that morning you read that you should be more open to relationships in whichever format they came from, the reason why you didn’t even try to stop Kira from dragging to the party. 

A long time had gone by since you felt anything similar while talking to someone — especially since using the word talking seemed to be a little much considering you had barely exchanged a few words. Wonwoo had your undivided attention from the moment he walked in. 

Wonwoo simply smiled at you again and looked up at the sky. The sun had long set and in its place the most beautiful full moon lit up the sky, accompanied by the countless shining stars. 

“There’s so many stars tonight,” you said and almost kicked yourself for it. 

It was probably the worst way you could have started a conversation with a guy. You half expected him to answer you at all, a nod or a hm, at best. 

“Did you know,” his words were almost shy, his delicious low voice dropping even lower, almost as if he was telling you a secret “that the stars have colors?”

His voice was so quiet while he spoke, his eyes still focused on the sky above. Wonwoo clasped his hands together, his knuckles turning white while he put way too much strength into something that needed none.

“Really?” you looked up for a second before turning your full attention back to his profile “I thought it was just some sort of optical illusion”

He turned to you then, his full attention on you as you waited for him to speak again. It was an odd feeling, for him to have someone interested in whatever he was saying.

“Yeah, there’s a few. Blue, white, yellow, orange, and red” he made a fist between the two of you, raising a finger every time he said a different color “The color depends on the temperature and life cycle”

Maybe you didn’t mean to, or perhaps you did, but you leaned your body a little to the left, your knee touching his.

“I had no idea”

He looked at you, slightly surprised that you were suddenly so close to him but smiled at you all the same.

“You can’t see the colors when you look at the sky?” his eyebrows were slightly raised, lips in a mix of a pout and a smile. 

You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth in hopes that it could make you stop from inching forward and pressing them against his. If you were in his place you’d probably run away screaming “crazy” at the top of your lungs”

“I mean, I can, I just didn't think the star had actual colors. I guess I just always assumed it was all silver”

Wonwoo laughed, his nose wrinkling in the most adorable way possible. 

You were talking with him for a couple of hours, the most casual kind of conversation and it was probably the most fun you had in a long time at one of those parties. Not that you didn’t have fun. Nina and Kira were always fun to be around and it was something you always said yes to, being around them. But with Wonwoo it was just a different kind of fun. Usually, when guys approach you at parties the conversations always remain the same, and it was always made to make them look larger than life. 

Wonwoo however seemed to be much more interested in talking about the sky and the moon and the stars — “did you know that the moon moves away further from the earth every year? — and while you were aware that some of it was just to prove himself as smart, you found it cute and at times, even endearing. 

He seemed somewhat passionate about what he was talking about to the point where you could just stand there and look at him without ever getting bored. His voice, low when he had first sat by your side, had gone up a few notes, maybe partially because of the music around you, but you had a feeling that it was because he was just getting excited about what he was talking about. 

“I never saw you before at one of these,” you said

Wonwoo took a long sip of his drink, you weren’t sure of what it was but it wasn’t the cheap beer that was in your cup. 

“I don’t come to these often, my friends” he pointed at where the rest of the people were and you had no real way of finding out who his friends were “finally managed to drag me out. I would have stayed at the office if they didn’t”

It was a redo of the conversation you had before but you didn’t mind in the least, not when you could feel his warm breath at the top of your cheeks as he leaned down to talk to you. Slightly, you turn your head to him and for a moment you thought about just typing your head up slightly, just enough to reach his lips. 

“What do you do for a living?”

Wonwoo cleared his throat, his eyes moving from your eyes to your lips. He did that maybe a couple of times before he finally, finally, leaned in. And it was like little bells of you started to play inside your head. It was perfect for all of two seconds, his lips pressed over yours, soft and warm, his hand at the back of your neck pulling your face closer to his before someone screamed your name at the top of their lungs. 

He pulled away from you immediately and you honestly wanted to cry. The kiss had only lasted a brief second but you didn’t want it to end.

Kira was suddenly by your side, a look of complete desperation in her eyes. 

“We have to go… Nina…”

Before she even finished her sentence you were already up. You looked at Wonwoo quickly, hoping that he could see how sorry you were when you ran out. 

Looking back you wished you could have remembered to ask for his number before you left, or for him to ask for yours. But all of it had happened way too quickly that it had never crossed.

Ever since that night had been stuck in your mind, you couldn’t stop thinking about Wonwoo or the kiss. It was like your mind was in this infinite looping playing that one moment.

“The new guy is here,” Jinah said, Laughing a little.

You looked where she was pointing and couldn't help the low laugh that escaped your lips. Three guys were walking towards you. Maybe walking was a bit too strong a word, one of them was being pushed by the other two.

“We're already here,” the shorter one said, exasperated “You just have to go there and learn”

“You know, this is a terrible idea” the one who was being pushed said.

It was as if you had been transported back to that day at the party. It was precisely the voice you wanted to hear but had no real way of hearing.

“Wonwoo?”

Your voice was one that Wonwoo didn't expect to hear any time soon, or maybe ever again. After that day when he left the party in a hurry, without giving the slightest explanation, Wonwoo was sure he would never see you again. Sydney was far from a small town and he wasn't the biggest party-goer who had ever set foot on this earth, he knew that the chances of running into you again were slim to none.

But somehow, you were right there in front of him.

He had thought many times about what he would say if he saw you again if he was that lucky. Everything that had gone through his head had seemed wrong and now that you were in a place where he could see you, nothing came to mind. It was as if he had momentarily forgotten all the words he had learned throughout his life. That all the years he had spent trapped in an educational institution hadn't taught him anything.

Ever since that night, Wonwoo couldn't stop thinking about you. It didn’t matter what he did, however, he tried to think of other things or other people and focus on work. You were always there, in the back of his mind. He had never done anything quite like that before. 

That wasn’t to say that he had never had a girlfriend. He had, a few of them throughout his life but it never happened quite that fast and it was never quite life-altering. Sure, he had met a girl once at one of the many events he attended as part of his job and she had stayed in his mind for a couple of hours, but never days like it happened with you. 

And when he started to babble about the moon and the stars, because he had gotten nervous, you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, you gave him your full attention, seemingly inserted in what he was saying. But then suddenly you were gone and he didn’t even have the chance to ask for your number or anything that he could use to find you again. 

Wonwoo had been certain that you would, somehow, be the one who got away and yet there you were, in shorts and a black swimsuit with the logo he saw outside. 

He hated the word destiny, but maybe there was some of it sprinkled in seeing you again. 

“Hi!” 

Wonwoo’s voice came out a little louder than usual, making his friends turn to him with furrowed eyebrows. Soonyoung looked utterly confused while Jihoon just did his best to suppress the laugh that was bubbling inside his chest. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” you said, smiling brightly at him. 

Wonwoo was completely caught off guard when you took a step forward and wrapped your arms around his shoulder. It only lasted a second and it wasn’t enough for him to react and hug you back. 

Your cheeks had a light pink on them as you stepped back. He smiled once he noticed that your hand was balled into fists. 

“Sorry, my mom is a hugger so I just sort of hug people sometimes” you were quick to explain, waving your hands in front of yourself. 

You closed your eyes tightly, your cheeks getting even redder. Wonwoo thought that you looked cute that night at the party, but this version in front of him was much cuter. He pressed his lips together, trying not to smile too big. 

“Do I get a hug too?”

Soonyoung took a step forward, arms wide open, smile so big that Wonwoo wasn’t even sure his friend could see anything at all. Thankfully Jihoon was quick enough to pull him back and angry enough to hit him in the back of the head. 

“No…”  

You took another step back and raised your index finger at him. Your reaction alone was enough to pull an honest laugh out of Wonwoo. You seemed horrified by the idea which made him think that your earlier allegation of being a hugger was probably a lie. 

“How dense are you?” Jihoon whispered and shouted at Soonyoung. 

You lightly shook your head, maybe trying to shake off any sort of dizziness, before smiling again. 

“Which one of you is the one taking lessons?”

In the queue, Wonwoo felt two sets of hands at his back, pushing him forward. Both of his friends were holding back giggles. 

He had hated the idea of taking swimming lessons as an adult. His friends were irreducible in his learning though so he eventually just caved and did as they wanted. However, all of the cells in his body that were against it dissolved the second he saw you. Now, learning didn’t seem all that bad or all that weird. 

“Great! I need you to follow me to the back if that’s okay?” you pointed over your shoulder with your thumb “You need to fill out a form before we can get started”

Wonwoo nodded and followed you. He was naive enough to look back at his friends once and he was glad that you didn’t do the same. Jihoon was giving him a thumbs up, a weird-looking smile on his face, while Soonyoung would be screaming if he could, if not for the hand covering his mouth. 

He loved his friends, he really did, they were one of the reasons why Wonwoo even had any kind of social life, and they were there for him whenever he needed them, even if he just wanted to complain about something — Soonyoung was especially good at hating someone he had never met before just because Wonwoo complained once about said, person. 

In silence, he followed you to the back, eyes focused on your back. He had to force his eyes to stay on the back of your neck and not on the way your hips swayed deliciously from side to side while you walked. 

You sat down on one of the tables and smiled sweetly at the receptionist who handed you a sheet and a pen. You slid the paper across to Wonwoo, followed by the pen.  

“While you fill that out, I’m going to ask you a couple of questions”

Wonwoo was never that great at multitasking, so he was sure that he would either write his information down or he would talk with you. If he did do two things at once, most likely both of them would be half-assed. 

“Why are you taking swimming lessons?”

He paused writing and looked at you. It made sense that that was your first question, he would just like it if it wasn’t on the list. 

“I don’t know how to swim, so my friends thought that it was good a idea to sign me up for lessons”

You smiled and nodded at him, not a hint of judgment in your eyes. It was new. When he told people that he didn’t know how to swim people usually looked at him like he had four sets of arms, it was almost like the look one got when one heard that they could ride a bike. 

“Can you float on your back?”

He simply shook his head and kept writing his information down. It didn’t go unnoticed to Wonwoo how you pursed your lips together and tilted your head to the side. 

“Do you feel comfortable in the water at all?” you asked, slightly confused. 

Wonwoo set down the paper and pen, now fully looking at you. He wanted to avoid the conversation, yes, but he knew if there was one place he had to be honest, it was there, with you. 

“I’m not the biggest fan of water,” he said, voice low matching how his eyes were kept on the table the entire time. 

When Wonwoo was a kid, while on a trip to the beach with his parents, he was playing in the water when a wave forcefully took him away. He had tried to scream for help but instead of pushing his voice out, all he did was pull water into his lungs. According to his parents, the moment didn’t last for more than a few seconds but it was enough for him to never want to do anything with the water again.

It wasn’t a problem to be at a pool, like the one he was in, as long as his feet could touch the floor and he had enough space between where the water ended and his head. But he had never been to the beach again. Not that his friends hadn’t tried to convince him to go to the beach, just to feel the sand between his toes, they never even mentioned the idea of getting in the water. But Wonwoo refused every single time. 

Why would he go to a place that only brought him bad memories when he could simply pretend that synch place didn’t even exist in the first place? Of course, living in Sydney posed as a minor problem to that plan, but it had never stopped him before. 

And yet, somehow, he found himself in front of you, asking for swimming lessons. The fact that it was you made him somehow calmer if such a thing was even possible. 

“Can you get into the water or is that something we need to work on?” Wonwoo looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed “Some people come here and they have a rough time getting into the water, so it’s something we have to work slowly on. Is that the case with you?”

“Oh, no” he shook his head “I can get into the water just fine”

You smiled at him while you looked at his information. Wonwoo felt his insides twist a little when your smile slowly dropped. 

“Is everything okay?”

Your eyes left the paper for a second and you smiled again.

“Everything is fine” you put the paper on the table again, now fully ignoring it “Should we get started?”

“He is a cancer!” you wailed, dropping your head on the back of the couch. 

Of course, it made absolute sense that the most dreamy and perfect guy you had ever met, was a cancer. Of course! 

“What is she on about?” Kira asked, making a weird face. 

Nina simply sighed and nudged you, placing the wine glass into your hands

“It’s the guy from the party,” you said, sipping the wine “He came in today to take lessons and I saw his birthday. He’s a cancer”

Both of them nodded as if understanding what you were saying, but you knew that they couldn’t care less about it. Between the three of you, you were the only one who cared about star signs. You were always one to simply look into it once and let it go. It usually gives you a way to understand someone better. And while it could just be some harmless fun, you know yourself well enough to know that something you let get a little too much into your head. 

And you see, Wonwoo is a cancer, which in itself it’s not a real issue. Cancer men are known to be caring, loyal, and protective, all of which are great treats when you are in a relationship with someone, their groundedness is highly incompatible with Sagittarius women. They usually enjoy their time at home and are more on the introverted side. 

“Are you going to treat that as a problem?”

Nina had her eyebrow raised so high you were sure that if she pushed up a little more she’d be able to touch her hairline. 

“We are incompatible!” you cried, drinking the rest of the wine.

Both of your friends looked at you, knowing that the conversation would probably lead you to drink a little more than you needed, which in return would cause them problems. Truth be told you weren’t the best drinker out of the three of you. You were the worst of your group, to the point you avoided drinking out, but in the comfort of your home — or this case, Kira’s home — all bets were in and you could be as much of a bad drinking as you wanted to be. 

“You can’t let sun signs, moon signs, whatever it’s called, rule your relationship, babe,” Kira said, her voice sounding a lot like the one she usually used on the kids she teaches.

Kira was a kindergarten teacher, a real hero if you knew what one of those looked like

“Remember how you were over the moon after the party? You couldn’t stop talking about him and we all know that if you can’t stop talking, it also means that he was constantly in your mind as well”

Her tone was almost mocking you. The thing is your friends knew you, sometimes, better than you knew yourself.

“Do you remember Ben? He was a cancer” you said trying to prove a point, but knowing fully well that it meant nothing at all. Wonwoo and Ben couldn’t possibly be more different, even just at first glance. 

“Ben stole money from your wallet, used your card to his heart’s content, and then fled, making you pay for everything he ever bought. I’m sure Wonwoo is nothing like that”

You narrowed your eyes at her. She was defending Wonwoo a little too much. You knew Kira’s thoughts on your zodiac obsession and she was always quick to shut it down, but this time around, the way she was defending a man she had maybe seen for 5 seconds was a little suspicious.

“I agree with Kira,” Nina said, eyes still on her phone “Ben was a dick but Wonwoo might not be one. You said he was sweet at the party. Sorry I sort of ruined it for you that night”

Your friend smiled at you, her eyes a little sad. Nina had been the reason why Kira pulled you out of the party that night. She had been traveling for work and was in a car accident on the road on her way back to Sydney. She was fine, with no life-threatening wounds, but she was very nervous, understandably so. She was still insecure about being on the road again, but you were sure that she just needed a little more time. 

“It’s fine” You wrapped her shoulders with your arms, pulling her closer to you “No boy in the world is more important than you”

Your mind went back to the party and the way you felt that night, how you’d have stayed there the entire night with him unless you were pulled away — which eventually happened. Wonwoo talked about the moon and stars and you were that if he ever told you that he was the one responsible for hanging them up in the sky you would have probably believed him. 

“You’re so corny sometimes” She pushed you with her shoulder but made no real attempt to move away from you.

“You love me, so…”

“I guess the swimming lessons are much more interesting now, right?” Soonyoung teased Wonwoo.

Wonwoo simply rolled his eyes and kept his focus on the computer in front of him, making Jihoon snort by his side, which in return only made Soonyoung wine as he sat on the couch in the back of the room. Under normal circumstances, Wonwoo would probably already be home at such an hour but there were things that he needed to do if he wanted to have a truly off weekend. One when he could just focus on the lessons he was bound to have on Saturday. 

He was never one to anxiously wait for things, especially when those things had a lot to do with the water and yet there he found himself, wishing that Saturday morning came just a little faster than it usually did. 

For him, Saturdays mostly meant trying to come up with reasons as to why he wouldn’t be able to go somewhere with his friends. That was mostly Soonyoung, to be fair. His friend enjoyed being out and about, going to new places, and having new experiences. From time to time Wonwoo did too, but he liked his time alone time a little too much when it was just him and his stars. 

“It pains me to say this” Jihoon said with a sigh, almost as if he didn’t believe those words were coming out of his mouth “I agree with him. It looks a lot of fun now”

Jihoon and Soonyoung were a weird duo, that was for sure. They spent half of the time bickering like old men who have nothing else to do and the other half they were either in agreement or just pretending that the other didntdidn'tt. Somehow, it worked.

“I mean” Jihoon continued “She’s the girl from the party”

Wonwoo turned around in his chair, giving Jihoon a look with eyes wide. There was a reason why he didn’t mention you to Soonyoung, and it was quite simple: he would never hear the end of it and Soonyoung would, at the very least, contact every single person he knew at the party and ask if they knew you. His friend would stop until he found you and though seeing you again was something that he wanted, Wonwoo didn’t want to come across as someone who was desperate and maybe a little bit of a stalker. 

“What girl?”

He let his body slide down on the chair and closed his eyes. Wonwoo would never hear the end of it now with Soonyoung. 

“The party we managed to drag him to a couple of weeks ago? He met a girl there and she had to leave before he managed to ask for her number”

Another thing about the Soonyoung and Jihoon duo is that they like to gossip like teenagers. It’s the very stereotypical image of highschoolers whispering to each other in the hallways, except for the fact that they gossip about Wonwoo right in front of his face and there is nothing that he can do to just make them stop, and they haven’t been to a high school hallway in years. 

“Why didn’t I know about this?”

“Probably because you were too busy with whatever it is that makes you disappear at parties?”

The two of them exchanged a look and Wonwoo knew that they were talking without ever saying a single word. 

“So” Soonyoung turned to him again “you went to a party and talked to this girl”

“Kissed her, actually,” Jihoon said

Soonyoung’s body almost vibrated at the news and he was clapping his hands, making sounds that no human should ever be able to make. 

What is the closest emergency exit from here? Wonwoo couldn’t help but wonder. 

“This is the greatest day of my life” he laughed hysterically “You went to a party, something that on its own is already very out of character to you, you kissed a girl and now she’s your hot swimming instructor?”

He turned to Jihoon for approval, who simply nodded. 

“You should ask her out, she looked interested earlier  at the pool”

The image of you looking over his information and your smile slowly dropping came across Wonwoo’s mind and he couldn’t help but think that Soonyoung was wrong. Whatever it was that you say written there, which Wonwoo couldn’t possibly even phantom what it was considering that it was his most basic information, was enough to make you rethink something. 

“And she listed to you nerding out and still wanted to kiss you”

His mind drifted back to the night of the party. Wonwoo was certain that if you had stayed for a little longer he would have probably gotten your number and asked you out on the very next day and with some luck you would have said yes and who knew where it would go from there. 

“Oh, this just keeps getting better” Soonyoung clapped his hands.

“Again, this is very painful to say but I agree with Soonyoung, you should ask her out”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. Jihoon talked a big game about not agreeing with Soonyoung but he always did. They were always in the same frequency of decisions and Wonwoo was usually the one who had a different opinion. 

“And maybe, who knows, she might have thought about you as much as you thought about her these past few weeks?”

Soonyoung grabbed Jihoon’s arm, his eyes wide with uncontrolled excitement.

There was something different about the way Jihoon said it as if he was in some sort of secret that Wonwoo had no idea about. Of course that was the entire purpose of a secret but it felt different. 

“If I promise to think about it, will you” Wonwoo pointed at Soonyoung “stop this weird, whatever it is?”

Surprisingly enough, the pool was mostly empty during the weekends, hence why they usually closed at noon on Saturdays. Parents usually sent their kids during the afternoons and most adults preferred either early mornings or after hours so the weekends were usually pretty low and you’d rather be anywhere else than at work but Saturdays started to look so much better once Wonwoo’s name was written on the board, right under yours. 

After the initial minor breakdown

You sat down on the edge of the pool, your feet on the water while you waited for him. With each passing second you grew more anxious, your heart beating rapidly inside your chest in anticipation of what would happen. 

A part of you expected it to be just a regular class, with normal small talk. The other part, this one much more hopeful and highly unrealistic, hoped that you could pick up where you left off the night of the party. But the truth was that you had no idea what was about to happen. You were certain that there was a secret third option that you couldn’t see or even think of. 

You turned around when there was the distant sound of a door closing and a few seconds later Wonwoo walked in, in black swim shorts and a black t-shirt, a towel on his shoulder. He smiled at you while pushing his glasses back. 

For a moment it was like you were back at the party that night and he was all that you could see again. There wasn’t anything or anyone else there but even then the space seemed to disappear.

“Hi,” he offered once he stopped next to you. 

“Hey”

You got up and walked to the other side, removing your shorts and folding them over the side of a chair. Wonwoo followed suit, dropping his towel on the chair and then taking off his glasses and shirt. It took everything in you to keep quiet and not just fully ogle him. You almost had to hit your face to make yourself remember how to breathe properly again. 

"You ready?" you said without turning to him. 

The only answer Wonwoo had to give was a small ruff, in exchange for making you chuckle. Though it was funny, it was not the ideal. 

“Listen,” you turned to him, hands on your hips “If you’re uncomfortable we can reschedule or maybe not even do this at all”

Wonwoo looked at you, his eyes going a little soft as he sat down on the edge of the pool, mimicking your early stance. His eyes were focused on the water in front of him, unblinking. 

“I’m tall enough that my head will stay above water, right?” 

“Yes, you’re good until halfway”

He nodded his head, eyes until in the water. If the situation was any different you’d have cracked a joke or anything else that could somehow lighten up the mood but there was no room for that. 

“Let’s just get this over with”

Most of the hour you spent with Wonwoo in the pool was silent. It was mostly you talking and him listening, trying — and failing — to follow your instructions. You tried to crack the occasional small talk, but he was having none of it. You couldn’t help but wonder if his lack of enthusiasm, or interest, was because he was still uncomfortable or if it was because of how you had acted when he first came by to sign up for lessons. 

It took you a few hours, and three glasses of wine, to realize that you had made a face when you saw his birthday written. And it wasn’t a nice face, you were sure you scowled at the paper. Maybe it was that moment you ruined it all between you and Wonwoo. Or maybe, he was just really unhappy. 

“Are you okay?” you asked him once again, hand on his shoulder. 

You were honestly so worried about him that it was hard to ogle him. 

“Yeah, I’m just not a big fan of water, that’s all”

This time you put both of your hands on his shoulder, turning his body fully to you.  God, he is too handsome. Forget the whole “too worried to ogle” thing. His chest, his very naked chest, was right in front of your eyes. You were only human, a human that had dreamed of the man in front of her a few too many times and none of them had been pg-13. It was fine to appreciate someone’s beauty. 

“Listen to me, you don’t need to do this, okay?”

“This is Sidney,” he said as if that was enough explanation.

The only possible reaction was to roll your eyes at him. 

“Who gives a fuck where we are in the globe? Do you go to the beach? The pool? Boats? Loves to be on airplanes who happen to fly across oceans?” when his answer to all of your questions was no you shook his shoulders a little bit “Then you have no reason to learn how to swim. Right now you’re just torturing yourself”

Wonwoo sighed and nodded, but he still looked sort of weird, if you were one to tell considering how little you knew him. You raised your eyebrows at him, hoping that it was enough to get him to talk. 

“It’s just…” he seemed to struggle to get the words out “I want to see you again”

This time you didn’t even try to suppress your smile or the butterflies in your stomach.

“You could ask for my number and ask me on a date, you know?”

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[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twenty-one

authors note: here it is, friends! i def focused more on the family unit vs friends. i also probably broke some wrestling and wwe protocols/rules. don't care. issa story. let's use our imagination, friends.

hope it lives up to the buildup! low key have had the ending scene written for forever and am so happy to finally have it out.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, angst, and suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 10k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You had a plan.

A wonderfully thought out plan.

A wonderfully thought out plan that was quickly squashed and thrown out the window the moment you stepped foot in your bathroom and glanced at the mirror.

More a stare, but that’s understandable because the last thing you expected to do was wake up to find yourself with a baby bump.

It’s not like your stomach has ever been fully flat, but anyone who’s ever been pregnant knows that a baby bump has a different kind of look. A different kind of feel.

And all of that is wonderful, a major surprise, but it’s also something that ruins your plans entirely because you haven’t even told Callie about your pregnancy.

The plan was for you and Joe to sit Callie down and tell her about the baby, but said baby has decided to make his presence known regardless of your plan.

It’s still mind blowing to you that you’re already showing, and with as much depth to your bump,  at freshly three months. You didn’t even start showing with Callie until you were four months.

There’s no way this isn’t a boy, a boy who’s clearly going to be a big boy just like his daddy.

You try not to think too much about what that might mean delivery wise. 

The excitement and happiness easily sets in as the shock wears off, and you must spend a good ten minutes just admiring the first physical sign of life growing inside of you. 

You can’t wait to tell Joe, but it’s that though that stops you for a second.

This is a beautiful, wonderful development that would be cheapened if shared via technology. Even a FaceTime video feels not special enough. You want to do everything you can to keep these updates for him in person, so a revised plan is quickly created.

Hide it.

Going to Philadelphia where it’s already chilly makes that a little easier, but dodging too much physical interaction with Callie and your mom, who flew in the night before to fly to Philly with you and Callie, isn’t the easiest, but it’s doable.

Just like this plan.

It’s a plan that somehow, by the grace of God, carries you to travel day, to the airport and even the terminal as you touch down in the city of brotherly love.

Because of a lot of different factors, the most important regarding privacy and even safety, Joe doesn’t meet you at the airport. He instead sends a car to meet the three of you, which you’re partially grateful for as it gives you yet one less chance for him to find out about your baby bump indirectly vs you showing him yourself.

Granted, having to hide a baby bump from three of the most important people in your life is no easy task, especially with Callie who loves to be all over you. Which, normally, you don’t mind because you adore her affection, but it’s just redirecting that focus from your abdomen that’s a pain in the ass.

And you get a bit of a pass when not even a good five minutes into the Airbnb, which is nice as hell, Callie’s sweet voice is shouting with all of the excitement she can muster in her tiny little body.

“Daddy!”

Joe rounds the corner of the kitchen island and drops to his knees just in time to catch Callie who throws herself into him. They’re about what and what when it comes to excitement in seeing each other.

It brings a smile to your face. Their love for each other is probably your favorite thing in this whole world.

Joe greets your mom who is already talking about how she needs to go grocery shopping so she can cook, which you’re not entirely opposed to.

The less you have to do involving that, the better.

But, it’s when he comes toward you, you do your best to be subtle with the placement of your hand on his chest to keep that separation as he kisses you. It’s not subtle enough though, because you catch the peculiar look he shoots your way, and you’re certain if not for Callie pulling his attention to the artwork she’d created for him, he’d call you out on the spot.

But Callie always comes first, and you’ve never been more grateful.

It’s that distraction that allows you to sneak upstairs where you easily find the room Joe already has his stuff in. Emptying only some of the contents, you’re mainly only concerned with hanging up your dresses.

And once that’s done, you decide it’s now or never, walking into the living room where Joe is playing with Callie.

“Callie, I need to talk to your daddy real quick.”

As expected, she’s a pouting, protesting mess. “Mommy, nooooo.”

“It’ll be real fast baby, like ten minutes.” Bargaining with your four year old to talk to your boyfriend, who is also her dad….definitely another thing not on your 2024 bingo card.. 

However, this is a semi acceptable temporary swap, but not enough for her to not use her little tablet and literally set a timer for ten minutes.

Rolling your eyes, you wave Joe over. “Girl, you are so dramatic.” She’s clearly been hanging around Alexis too much. You didn’t even know she knew how to do that.

Joe meets you at the bottom of the steps. “Better hurry up, we on the clock.”

It takes tremendous effort not to flip him off. “Shut up.”

The bedroom door is barely closed before he’s asking with all the attitude, “now you gon tell me why you acting funny?”

It’s impossible not to roll your eyes. Nothing gets past this man. “You’re so damn dramatic just like your daughter.” It’s gotta be the light skin in him. “Sit down.” He opens his mouth, probably to say something else smart, but you remind him, “hurry up before she comes beating on the door. You know she loves her daddy time.”

That seems to do it, or at least enough for him to begrudgingly drop his bulky body down on the edge of the bed. Forever impatient, he asks again, “well?”

With another shake of your head, you decide to put this man child out of his misery. Walking over so you’re only a couple inches away from him, your hand moves under the layers of clothing as you lift them over your stomach. 

“This is why I was acting funny.” It’s impossible to hold back the smile on your face at the way his eyes light up with a perfect and expected combination of enjoyment and shock. “Good enough reason?” Naturally, his big hand reaches to feel the swell of your belly, the first physical sign of the child growing inside of you. “I knew you’d feel it if you hugged me, and I didn’t want you to find out that way.”

“You’re showing….” It’s such an obvious statement, but you know it comes from such a special and meaningful place for him. 

“I am,” you answer, watching him continue to rub your stomach, like he’s trying to make sure it’s real, that this is real. “And that’s how I know this is definitely a boy, because I didn’t start showing this much with Callie until I was four, maybe five months.” And you just hit three months officially last week. “Watch him have your big ass ears and feet.”

Joe tugs you closer, lips pressed against your stomach. It makes your heart swell. His gaze then lifts, eyes full of curiosity, “does she know?”

“No. That’s been hard too, trying to hide it from her. Because I refused to tell her without you.” It would literally kill you to deprive him of that opportunity. Even more, you’re not sure you even feel entirely comfortable doing as such. It feels so inherently wrong to do or share anything major like this with her without Joe’s help or input, preferably the former.

“I told you. I’m gonna do everything right this time….” You lean down and kiss his forehead, asking in an equally low voice. “Are you still cool with me going to the awards with you?”

He stares at you with utter confusion “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Shrugging, you explain, intentionally not stating the real reason you’re unsure. He can read between the lines. “Well, my dress is tight and there’s no way in hell you won’t be able to see my bump in it. Any of my dresses for this weekend, really.”

You’re just thankful you can still wear them even with this almost overnight curveball of your belly suddenly extending more. 

Joe’s gaze softens as he lays his hands on your hips, holding you protectively. “Y/N, I haven’t a fucking ounce of desire to try to hide this pregnancy. I don’t want to publicly announce it per se, but I don’t give a fuck who at WWE knows that we’re having another baby. I’m happy about this, over the fucking moon. Let them see you’re pregnant. I don’t care.”

You know this. Deep down, you wholeheartedly know this. But there’s always this annoying string of fear you have have of doing something to mess up or fuck with all of his accomplishments. You know how much he went through to get to where he is, and you’d never ever do anything to risk that.

“Okay.” His reassurance means a lot to you. It’s exactly what you need. With a sigh, you ask, curious and hopeful, “so, can we tell Callie about the baby now and then let my mom see I’m showing?” 

“Of course, baby, whatever you want.” 

His agreement was a given, but it’s still a massive relief. “Thank you cause wearing all these clothes got me sweating and shit, and hiding it from my mom has been really hard.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t even start that shit. One of us has to be employed.” You move for the door to call Callie when he stops you. “Yes?”

His big hands snake around to your ass, giving a gentle yet firm squeeze. “I prefer you in nothing anyway.”

Ugh. Tonight can’t come fast enough. “You’re so nasty….” You love it, though. Besides, It’s been way too long. Stealing a kiss, you walk over and open the door, calling out, “Callie! Come here, baby!”

This little girl comes speeding up the stairs and runs into the room, instantly jumping back onto Joe who makes a fake grunt sound as he falls back on the bed with her on his chest.

“Sis, if you don’t stop all that running…..” The older she gets, the more it seems like she has all this energy she doesn’t know what to do with. Ya’ll should be putting her in gymnastics instead of ballet.

“Baby………” Her giggles die down as Joe stops tickling her, sitting up and kissing her temple, eyes closing for a bit. He missed her so much. “You remember how grandma told you where babies come from?”

She nods, happily explaining as if you and Joe need a refresher on this topic. “Jesus tells the angels to put a baby in a mommy’s belly, so the baby can have a mommy and daddy.”

It’s not exactly the type of explanation you would have given, but you also don’t know if you could have done much better with such a question being asked on the spot like that. So, it’ll do for now.

“That’s right.” No need to take her little joy at that clear, concise explanation she’s clearly proud of. Even if it’s a bit…..off. “And we got the best baby in all of baby heaven.” You bop her nose and she giggles. “But Calista….the angels came to see mommy again.”

You can see that she’s partially picking up what you’re implying, but it’s Joe who does the honors of sharing the outright news. He angles her, so she’s looking at him as wel. “Your mommy and I are having another baby, Callie Bear,” Joe explains as you lift your garments again to show Callie your stomach. “You’re gonna be a big sister.”

She gasps loudly and points. “Mommy! Your tummy is bigger!”

Laughing, you explain, “that’s right. It’s gonna keep getting bigger because that means the baby is growing.”

Your eyes water as she reaches over to feel on your stomach, happily exclaiming, “I’m gonna have a baby sister!”

Laughing, you remind her, “or brother.”

She doesn’t seem to hear or care too much about that, immediately asking the two of you, “can I play with the baby?”

Joe handles that one, answering so effectively “when she or he gets a little older, yes, but not when they’re still really little because you have to be really careful with babies.”

“When is the baby coming?”

“September.”

She’s instantly annoyed, crossing her arms. “That’s a really long time!”

Both you and Joe laugh at that one as you readjust your clothes, “it’ll go by really fast. Trust me.” Leaning over, you ask her, already knowing the answer ahead of time. “You wanna help me and your daddy tell grandma about the baby?”

Your mom already knows about the pregnancy, but this will be her first time seeing your bump. Beyond that, you know she’ll play dumb for the sake of not wanting to deter Callie’s excitement. 

She freaking cheers, fists raised and everything as she hops off Joe’s lap and reaches for both of your hands. “Come onnnnn.”

Obliging Callie, each of you holding one of her hands, Joe shoots you a look, conveying all of his happiness and love.

And you reciprocate it right back.

Life is so damn good right now.

———-

The Hall of Fame awards is definitely a night to remember, starting with all of the hoopla that comes with the preparation. Kaylah comes over to Joe’s Airbnb to get ready with you, which is appreciated. Of course, Alexis comes over from her hotel as well. It ends up being a fun girls thing with you actually noticing and missing the presence of Bianca and Trinity, though you know Bianca’s flight doesn’t come in until tomorrow morning and logistically, it’s just easier for Trin to get ready at her and Jon’s Airbnb.

Still, it’s a bit of an ordeal squeezing into your gown. Out of the three dresses you purchased for the weekend’s events, the Hall of Fame number was already the most snug prior to your bump appearing almost overnight. Thankfully, it’s workable, and it does look good on you still. It’s just, obviously, tighter in the stomach area than you would have liked. 

There’s no way in hell people won’t be able to see you’re pregnant. Ain’t enough bloating in the world.

But, the minute you walk down those steps, and Joe lifts his attention from the phone in his hand, you’re reminded again how unbothered he is by the fact that most of his colleagues in the WWE will know that you two are expecting. The gentle way he cradles your bump and equally gentle kiss against your forehead as he assures you how beautiful you look washes away any and all anxiety. 

And it’s just the cherry on top when Callie gushes over how much you look like a Disney princess. There are additional compliments, but the ones from your two favorite people in this entire world easily snatch the top spot. 

There’s a bit of renewed anxiety when arriving at the actual awards, but Joe’s hand is firmly around yours, never once loosening or his grip slipping. That makes a world of difference to you. The anxiety is also depleted by the fact that the two of you, which makes a lot of sense, are seated by the twins. Being around Kaylah and Trinity is so relieving, and Trin nearly tackles some female wrestlers when she runs over to hug you, feeling on your bump. You really missed her.

Her energy is so infectious.

She even manages to convince you and Kaylah to make a couple TikToks with her in the bathroom before the ceremony begins, one of them being some apparent trend the clock app has started based upon the whole Mariah fiasco. You don’t really understand it, but Hollaback Girl is that song, so you go with it freely and play the role well.

It’s their presence, along with the twins even, that keeps you comfortable and relaxed when Joe has to leave toward the end of the night to prepare for his induction speech for Paul Heyman. And when your man’s music hits, followed by him walking out a few minutes later, you’re grateful you’re already with child, cause he most definitely would be putting a baby in you tonight. Joe is just an insanely attractive human being, but that black suit, the swagger, the confidence, it’s all a dangerous combination. 

He looks so damn good. As embarrassing as it is, it’s hard for you to pay attention to his actual speech. You’re certain it’s just as good as he looks, but your pregnancy hormones have accelerated your sex drive more than typical because all you can think about is his beautiful, long, thick dick inside of you, filling you to the brim in the way that only he can.

There’s a couple of shifts in your seat during said speech as well.

And, of course, this fine ass motherfucker notices because he notices everything. It takes your entire arsenal of self-control not to punch him when he rejoins you, casually whispering in your ear, “you need me to take care of that for you, mama?”

You hate him. 

But, you also love him.

Still hate him though.

Not enough to nearly jump his bones the minute the two of you are alone in the back of the SUV. Not even the length of your dress can get in the way of you spreading your thighs across his lap. His thick, spread legs allow you to feel the bulge of him against your center. It nearly makes you come right then and there, fully clothed and all.

“When we get back to that house….”

He chuckles, deep voice purring in your ear as his hand slips under your dress, pushing aside your panties to tease those deliciously talented fingers across your already wet folds. “What? Tell daddy what you want, baby.” You squeeze his shoulders as he dips two fingers in, and it takes everything in you not to moan out his name. “You want this pussy in my mouth? Hmm. Want daddy’s dick inside you?”

You can’t bring yourself to speak, just furious nodding against his shoulder as his fingers make a hitherto motion inside you, your pussy contracting against him.

It’s fucking disgusting how pathetic you are for this man, how all your defenses crumble and shatter just from one fucking touch.

And it’s embarrassing as hell when the driver opens the car door, and you have to quickly reorient yourself as Joe yanks his fingers out of you, leaving you just as much a mess but an incognito mess.

Yeah…..you really do hate this man.

Just not enough to nearly be ready to run up the stairs and rip his clothes off the minute you step back into the Airbnb.

But, that’s only a dream, a hope, a fantasy.

Because you two are met with the peacefully sleeping, tiny body of none other than Callie right smack dab in the middle of your and Joe’s bed.

You’ve never in your entire life been both so awestruck and devastated at the exact same time. 

For a brief, embarrassing moment, you consider asking Joe to fuck you in the bathroom. You’re just that feral for him, but logic quickly rushes back in, and you’re sickened by just the idea of having sex literally feet away from where your daughter sleeps. Locked door or not. 

It’s a bummer, for sure, but you and Joe adjust accordingly, able to actually undress and shower together without giving into carnal temptations for the sake of your little girl…..your cock blocking little girl, but still your little girl.

And truthfully, it all balances out the moment you and Joe slide in bed, keeping Callie in the middle to not disturb her, because you’re filled with so much happiness having all of your family together.

That…..that is what’s most important to you.

———-

Social Media-Verse

ROMAN REIGNS AND Y/N OFFICIAL THREAD:

OP: Ya’ll!!!! Y/N is pregnant. Some videos and photos got leaked from the WWE Hall of Fame awards, and she was there with Roman sporting a very obvious baby bump. 

User 1: I swear this shit been more entertaining than that “who did I marry” TikTok storytime. Congrats, though!

User 2: It’s 2024. Why are we still commenting on whether people are or are not pregnant? She could just be bloated. 

User 3: @/user2: ……you clearly have no kids. That’s very much a baby bump. There’s even a clip of Trinity (Naomi) running up and rubbing her stomach. Same with Roman. Sis is pregnant lol

User 4: Wow! I wonder how far along she is? Looks maybe four or five months. Congratulations to them. Their daughter is so stinking cute. I know this new baby will be too.

User 5: So was she dealing with all that bullshit while pregnant? Wow, that’s rough. No wonder she started crying on the live. That’s gotta be a lot.

User 6: I know this has been said but my God, she is gorgeous. The silk press. The melanin. The body. She really gives off 90s Gabby Union beauty. Roman got a bad one for sure.

User 7: Ya’ll seen that viral TikTok of them from last night when they were walking in? The one with that Million Dollar Baby song? Someone added a slow-mo filter, and I swear it awakened the bisexual in me. I don’t know who I want to fuck more: him or her.

User 8: @/User7: I mean both is an option…. 

User 9: Seeing the lil clips of them interacting, I’m not surprised sis is knocked up again. I know he be folding her like a pretzel. You can tell he talks her through it. 

User 10: I know I saw a few fonts were skeptical of Jadah and Y/N’s story, but we’ve seen this man speak up for and step out with Y/N more than we ever did with Jadah. It’s obvious they were telling the truth. He may have been married to Jadah, but his heart is clearly and has always been with Y/N. The actions speak for themselves. 

User 11: I still can’t believe we got to watch and witness this whole ordeal for free. 

User 12: I wonder if she’ll be at WM? 

User 13: @/user12: you know she will be. If she’s at the HoF, I can’t see her not being there, since she’s already in Philly. I just wonder if he’ll have her ringside again?

User 12: @/User13: I doubt it. Not after everything that’s gone down. There’s a lot of psycho weirdos in the wrestling community. She’ll probably be in a suite like Kaylah was last year (Jey’s wife) with the kids just for safety reasons.

User14: I think it’s wild how people have really romanticized this Brad/Angelina/Jennifer bullshit. She fucked, got pregnant by, and stole a woman’s whole husband but we’re on here talking about ‘oh, but she’s pretty’ and giving her a pass? This generation is guttersnipe filled. 

User 15: @/User14: Have you caught up on the whole story? Y/N’s ex ‘best friend’ lied about a ton of shit. Yeah, Jadah was his wife, but she herself acknowledged it was an open marriage with Roman. I think she even said she doesn’t like calling it a marriage because she never loved him and always saw them more as roommates. It’s actually a sad situation in a lot of areas, but all parties were consenting. Not necessarily orthodox, but also not anything to judge and persecute over. Two people met, fell in love, and started a family. What’s so wrong about that?

User 16: Here come the Bitter Betty’s. Ain’t ya’ll the same ones that was saying he was about to start hiding Y/N and their daughter with blankets and shit like Michael? Still waiting on that, btw. 

User 17: I went through his whole IG feed and found not one personal/non-kayfabe post EXCEPT for the one he made about the situation. He’s also now openly taken Y/N to an event, something we never saw with the ex-wife. This man is private as hell but hasn’t hesitated to make it clear he’s not hiding her for shit. I suspect they won’t be as public with their kids, but that makes all the sense. He clearly does love her, though.

User18: Trinity uploaded a TikTok of her and Y/N lip singing to Hollaback girl!!! Ya’ll she’s seen the trend! Omg I am DECEASED! Y/N knows what’s up! Hey girl! If you up here and you and Roman ever want a third person, I’m available.

User19: @/User18: Wait, I’m confused. Please clue me in.

User 20: @/User19: So basically someone dug up a photo of Y/N and Mariah when they cheered together and Mariah is giving a low key shady expression. Someone then made a video with the photo followed up with photos and clips of Y/N looking amazing. Lol. It started a trend, and they added the song Hollaback girl since Y/N was cheer captain, and allegedly, Mariah ass was always jealous because she wanted to be captain but was a ‘hollaback girl’ . Hope that makes sense. Kind of hard to explain. Just type in ‘Y/N Hollaback Girl’ and you’ll see a flood of videos. lol

———-

It’s still somewhat unclear to you just why you expected to spend a lot of time at the house with your mom and Callie. Or with Alexis, Bianca, Kaylah, etc. 

You just figured that while Joe invited you two out to see and spend time with him, the actual time spent would be minimal due to how crazy busy he must be.

Boy, were you wrong.

Joe is up early and therefore has you, your mom, and Callie up early to come with him to Lincoln Field.

The actual site of where WrestleMania will be.

Confused but also excited, you don’t hesitate to get ready, the three of you out the door in no time.

It’s pretty freaking cool seeing the field all set up and prepared for WrestleMania. There are some minor areas they’re clearly still working on, but seeing everything before the seats are filled and the lights come on is an experience. 

It’s an experience especially for Callie too who hangs onto every word Joe says to her in his  explanation of different things for her fifty million questions. She also, quite literally, hangs onto him physically, whether it’s him holding her hand as he walks and shows her around or holding her as he walks and shows her around.

Truthfully, you feel like a bit of a third wheel, invading their daddy daughter bonding, because your mom eventually goes to sit down somewhere complaining about her feet hurting or some other excuse. Joe does his best to keep you included, but Callie makes it clear she is number one on the attention list for this trip. And that’s okay. It’s more than okay, because she should and will always come first. 

If anything, it allows you to snap a bunch of photos and take videos, something you made sure to ask Joe you can do before turning into Annie Leibovitz. It’s just too great an opportunity to pass up, to not capture these moments with them, this amazing experience and blending of two of his greatest achievements in this life. 

And pregnancy emotions are at an all time high, because there’s no reason for you to get so emotional at the sight of him holding Callie, her head laid peacefully against his shoulder as he talks to people like Tripple H and Paul Heyman, his fucking coworkers and boss, like it’s nothing. And neither man, to your knowledge, says anything about it either which isn’t entirely surprising.

Joe always speaks highly of Paul, an eccentric character but genuinely nice man, something you can tell right away from Joe’s introduction of the two of you at the Hall of Fame. Same with Triple H, Hunter, as he said to call him. You’re especially grateful and happy to meet him, as Joe has expressed how Hunter taking the reins from Vince has resulted in the wrestler’s having more time off to be with family. 

Hunter has made it possible for Joe to be able to come and see you and Callie as much as he has over the months.

That’s going to make a huge, beneficial difference in the next couple of months.

For obvious reasons.

Meanwhile, while Y/N spends time with her little family, taking in this beautiful moment. Y/N’s mom sits down. She sits and watches along with Kaylah and Bianca (who’d joined the group about an hour ago) the adorable interaction of her daughter’s growing little family.

The older woman, studying her daughter especially, comments in a leading manner, like she’s trying to hint at something without outright saying it, “that’s a defined baby bump to only be three months….”

Kaylah turns to Y/N’s mom, agreeing, “I know, that’s what I was thinking too, but she’s definitely three months. She said the OB/GYN confirmed her conception date at the appointment when she found out.”

“She looks four months. Maybe even five….” Y/N’s mom looks over at Bianca and Kaylah. “We’re all mothers, have experienced pregnancy….”

“Yes ma’am.” Bianca and Kaylah confirm as the older woman sighs, tapping her painted nails against the side of her face.

“You know what I’m thinking?”

And just like that, they do. Bianca gasps as Kaylah asks in a lowered voice, “you don’t think she—”

“We can’t rule it out. Look at her.” Y/N’s mom gestures across the way, quickly asking for clarification purposes. “Don’t they run on Joseph’s side of the family?”

Kaylah nods, still trying to wrap her head around the insinuation alone. “Yeah, but I could have sworn I read years ago it comes more from the mother’s side. Do ya’ll have—”

The oldest of the three women shakes her head, killing at least that chance. “Not that I’m aware of.”

Bianca makes a face, prompting Y/N’s mom to ask, “what?”

She’s clearly hesitant but eventually shares, “we have a couple on my dad’s side.”

At that, Kaylah gasps again, slapping her hand over her mouth. “We should tell her.”

“No, no, no. We don’t want to get her all worked up.” Y/N’s mom quickly shoots down that idea, knowing her daughter well enough to know that wouldn’t turn out well. “We could be wrong—unlikely—but still. She told me they’ll hear the heartbeat at her appointment on Monday. We’ll find out then.”

Bianca blows out a breath. Talk about a plot twist. “Lord, if we’re right….she gon’ kill that man.”

No one disagrees with her statement either.

———-

WrestleMania Day one arrives, and to the surprise of literally no one, Joe and Josh arrange for you all to be in a suite that’s just as nice, if not nicer, than the one at the Super Bowl. 

It’s spacious enough for the lot of you which includes yourself, your mom, Callie, Alexis, Bianca and her fam as well as Kaylah and the kids. It’s actually really nice to have such a commodius area so that the girls can all distract themselves with each other and devices when the actual match starts. The older kids, however, are fully invested in watching Wrestling’s biggest night: part one. 

Once again, Joe surprises you by how present and involved he is with you and Callie. She spends a portion of the beginning of the night with him, Joe once again explaining some of the logistics in such a simple and easy for her to understand manner.

He’s so good with her, so patient, so adept at meeting her on her level.

And Callie, of course, loves every second of it, latches onto every word that leaves his mouth. Again, you’re snapping photos of the interactions, a trip to Walgreens to get them printed is one of the first things on your to do list post-Disney.

You’re especially over the moon when you capture the moment Callie gives Joe a special drawing she created for him depicting him standing in the middle of the ring, raising his belt with WrestleMania and ‘Acknowledge Me’ written at the top of the page.

She might or might not have asked for your help with the spelling.

He’s so touched by this, and Callie is ecstatic when he tapes it on the wall of his locker room. It’s also the cutest fucking thing how she yells out “good luck, daddy!” as security escorts the two of you back to the suite. 

You may have once been his biggest fan, but she’s clearly snatched that title from you with all the quickness.

But while you were prepared to get comfortable in the suite, catching up on girl talk with the ladies once Callie, Taylor, and Ellie got situated with their tablets, that plan is quickly down the drain when security is back and telling you that Joe has asked for you to join him.

That confuses the shit out of you, because he should be getting ready. Why is he asking for you?

And you tell him as such the minute you’re face to face again.

Arms crossed, you force yourself ignore how fucking good he looks and the urge you have to lick a perfect trail down his defined six pack. “Not sure if you’re aware of this, but you’re on the clock, babe. Tick Tock.” He chuckles and walks over, hand to your stomach. “Seriously, Joe, why am I here?”

He answers it so simply, like it should be obvious. “I want you here, so you’re here.”

Looking around, it’s hard not to notice the crew, the cameras, and everything else that makes you feel even more out of place. “Baby, am I allowed to be back here?”

He ignores that question, light brown eyes trailing over you from head to toe. “Damn, you look good.”

He’s not wrong. 

Makeup on point. Silk press pressing to the gods. Your outfit is just the icing on an already delicious cake. The dress is even more flattering than your gown from the Hall of Fame, baby bump and all.  And even though it’s cold as shit outside, the building is relatively well-insulated and beyond that, looking your best on such a big night for the man you love takes precedence over comfort and temperature.

“I’m not gonna distract you?” And then he flexes, a subconscious act that has you licking your lips. “Or maybe you’ll distract me….”

Joe smiles and takes your hand. “Come on.” He begins to lead you out of the room, the camera crew following closely, and for a minute, you panic because it��s obvious he’s eased back into his Roman role. Talking his shit as he walks down a hall that’s far from barren, literal fucking Philladelhia Eagles cheering for him while he saunters with all the confidence in the world, never once releasing your hand.

It’s such a strange yet overwhelmingly good feeling for him to be unabashed about you and his love for you. On one of the biggest nights of his career, amidst all the drama and chaos, he has you, front and center, proudly right by his side.

That’s why you also tap back into your “It Girl” era, easily matching his aura and energy because while he may look good as hell in all areas, so do you. 

You’re very much equally yoked.

Joe moves ya’ll into a gym area that’s laid out perfectly with weights and equipment for him to pump before the match. 

The crew departs for a little while, offering a reason that sounds legitimate enough, but you’re also not that interested or concerned. You’re just happy to have some alone time with Joe.

Leaning back against a stack of mats, you ask him as he starts lifting. “I ever tell you the story about the time Callie called herself running away from home?” The horrified look on Joe’s face is hilarious, so you quickly assure, “relax, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“You just told me our four year old ran away from home…..” When he says it like that, it does sound kind of bad. “What the hell did you do to my little girl?”

Rolling your eyes, you jump right into the explanation, unsure about just how much time you have before the match kicks off. “She's always been a really sweet, easy kid, with the exception of cleaning up after herself. That’s why I always tell you to make her clean because I had a hard time drilling that in her head.” To his credit, he has gotten better with it. “So this was a couple of months before you came back in the picture. I’d been telling her if she didn’t start cleaning up her toys, I was gonna limit her Disney time.”

He’s visibly irritated, switching to the barbell. “That’s foul, Y/N. You know how much my baby loves Disney.”

“That’s exactly why I had to use it. It has to be something she cares about. Anyway, it finally reached a point where I had enough, and told her no Disney for three days. It wasn’t even a week.”

Just recalling the experience brings a humored smile to your face. “Her lil dramatic ass threw a fit and said she was running away to live with grandma. Now, my mom was already coming over to pick her up for the weekend, so I wasn’t too worried. I told her to do what she had to do.” Plus, as a literal four year old, it’s not as if she would ever have the privacy and chance to run away for real.

“So she took a couple things, stuffed them in her lil yellow suitcase, and marched her cute self down the steps to where my mom was waiting for her in the car, cause I had called her to let her know what was happening when sis was throwing her lil tantrum.”

“You upset her. How’d you expect her to react?” You decide to let that lil comment pass. It’s only a matter of time before he finally gets to experience Callie throwing a fit for himself. Then, he’ll get it. 

“I go down the steps to bring my mom Callie’s booster seat, and before she can even get it buckled in, my mom tells Callie that before they can play, she needs help cleaning up the house.” You start laughing, shaking your head. “And when I tell you that lil’ girl did such a 180. All of a sudden, she’s latched onto my leg, telling me she’s sorry, she wants to stay with me, she’ll clean anything I tell her, the works. It was hilarious.”

He’s also laughing, hands on his hips in between a set. “She’s definitely strong willed. She gets it from you.”

“She gets it from us,” you correct, intentionally emphasizing the last word. Calista is the perfect combination of the both of you, the product of your love and the resilience of said love. “Come on.” You straighten up and motion to the weights. “I’ll count you off.”

His brow lifts curiously, “coming out of retirement for me?”

You suck your teeth, redirecting him. “Shut up and get to lifting, Roman.”

The crew returns not too much longer after you start helping him track sets and reps, but it doesn’t stop the conversation. You can’t tell if him taking to and with you is something to maybe curb nerves or if he just genuinely wants to talk to you. Neither makes a difference because you enjoy this time together, for a variety of reasons. From being able to see and be around this monolithic of a man shirtless, sexy as hell, shared tattoo of your daughters name viewable for all to see, on both of you, to just having ‘one on one’ time to interact as two people in love. 

It’s just really fucking nice. 

And when it’s just about time for him to go out, he’s gone for a couple of minutes to pray and wet his hair and body before returning looking somehow even sexier. 

It should be a goddamn sin to be that fine. 

Emotion fills you up as you’re allowed the privilege of placing the ula fala around his neck, something prompted and encouraged by Paul. It’s such a special moment that you don’t take lightly. 

“Hey.” You reach for his beard, forcing his gaze on you as you feed last minute encouragement into him. “You got this, alright? Stay in the moment. Keep your focus. Do what you do best. Go out there and kill it.”

He nods, his hand gently rubbing your bump, lips lingering against your forehead as he murmurs, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He gives you one last look and moves to walk out on the stage, Paul following right behind him. 

Using the monitors in the Gorilla position, you watch with all the pride in your body as he walks out, so powerful and authoritative. It’s so painfully clear how in his element he is.

He really was made for this shit. 

Once he’s in the ring, you have security escort you back to the suite, Callie nearly tackling you with a plethora of questions regarding if you saw “daddy’s walk” and if you “acknowledged him.”

She adores that man so much, and it makes your heart swell. 

There’s a bit of disappointment on her end at not being allowed to watch the match, but it’s eased by playing with her cousins. 

And together, you and the other ladies are able to enjoy the match, both enjoyable yet stressful for you in particular. You’re not sure if you’ve ever told Joe that there’s always a bit of anxiety on your end when he’s competing. 

It pisses you off to no end when people try to say wrestling is all “fake.” There’s a lot of things that’s scripted, but those fucking hits and falls are real as hell. Ain’t shit fake about that. And Joe is so good at selling shit, it’s sometimes hard not to freak out.

Especially this match, as it's physical as hell, which is understandable given the contenders.

But holy hell, do they all put on a show. 

As expected, Joe and Dwayne win, meaning night two will be Bloodline Rules with Joe officially securing his latest accomplishment with having the most Main Events at WrestleMania of all time. 

You’re so proud of him. 

And Callie, as always, is through the moon when she finds out her daddy came out with the win. She’s speeding down the hall when Dwayne and Joe walk backstage, Joe easily handing Paul his belt to catch Callie in a hug. 

You let them have their moment, laughing as Callie calls out to Dwayne, “congratulations, cousin Maui!” It makes everyone in the hearing vicinity laugh, really.

Joe walks over, still holding Callie with one arm and leans down to kiss you. Naturally, you reach up and push some of his hair back. God, you love when it gets like this, wild and untamed. It reminds you of when you two—“how are you feeling?” 

He gives a default answer that most men provide cause they’re stubborn as hell. “I’m good.”

“Liar. I saw that face you made getting out the ring.” This man’s back gotta be killing him.

He chuckles and squeezes your hip. “I’m good, baby.”

Having to just take his word for it, you two spend a couple more minutes with him before Joe is off to get cleaned up for a press conference.

He says it won’t take long, but that you can take Callie back to the Airbnb since it’s so late if you want. That’s nice in theory, but you know Callie would like to wait for him, would probably throw a fit if she has to leave without her daddy. So, you opt to just wait for him in the SUV as everyone else has already started leaving, your mom included, who is already on her way back to the house. 

These people really can’t hang.

Granted, you’re fighting back sleep too, adrenaline finally dying down. 

So maybe you can’t hang either.

You’re walking with Callie, flanked by the security team who will escort you to the SUV when Callie turns her head, listening for something, clearly.

This child must have exceptional hearing, or maybe Joe’s naturally deep, baritone voice has traveling abilities that exceed what is normal. Because she certainly hears him, your own hearing only latching onto him saying something about “use your feet.”

And before you can stop her, Callie is on the move.

“Callie!”

“Daddy!” is all you hear before you’re maneuvering through the two guards who just allow her to dash away in the direction of Joe's voice. You can only move so fast, your slightly swollen feet starting to feel the pain from these damn high heels.

So by the time you reach her, calling her name in an almost urgent whisper, it's already too late.

She’s walking onto the mini stage where Joe is conducting his press conference. Turning his head to the side where she entered, his eyes immediately land on Callie, and it amazes you how easily he switches from Roman to Joe.

A small smile is on his handsome face as he moves back in his chair a bit and opens his arms to her. Naturally, she climbs into his lap, hugging him, head on his shoulder. 

There’s a chorus of awes from the reporters, and you watch as Joe gently rubs her back and kisses her temple. He whispers something in her ear, and she lifts her head to look at him. They share some kind of unspoken exchange as he helps her back onto the ground where she quickly makes her way back over to you.

Instantly, you grab her hand. “Calista, baby, you cannot run off like that.” It’s hard to be too stern with her when she, technically, just went to see her dad.

And she says as such, explaining with all of the innocence, “I wanted to see daddy.” 

A quick glance up and you see Joe shoot you a wink before he’s back in his Roman headspace, making a smartass comment. 

You chuckle. 

She just wanted to see her daddy.

———-

You’re in the middle of a very good dream that’s interrupted prematurely by tugging on your shirt that you’re all too familiar with. Blinking eyes are met with the sleepy and almost sad face of an awake Calista.

Instantly, you’re forcing yourself to lean up as much as you can with Joe’s big arm securely wrapped around you, his hand on your stomach. He’s snoring lightly, enjoying well deserved sleep after a rough night of brutal physicality.  “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I can’t sleep….”

And right from that, you know it’s because she has something on her mind. She gets that from you.

“Come here, baby girl.” You pat the empty space on the bed next to you and wait for her to crawl on the mattress where you lay the covers over her to help keep her warm. “What ya thinking about?”

She’s on her back, playing with her fingers as you brush your thumb over her forehead. “Tomorrow is our last day with daddy……” It’s what you were guessing but definitely not what you wanted to hear.

“You’re sad cause you don’t wanna leave, huh?” She says nothing but nods slowly. A heavy sigh leaves you as you juggle your options here. You want so badly for the element of surprise to be kept and maintained, as is Joe’s preference. But, it’s hard to stick with that when your little girl is lying here sad, unable to sleep because she thinks she’s not gonna see her dad again for X amount of time. You try to think of how Joe would want you to respond.

Quickly, you realize he’d want you to do whatever you need to do to take away her sadness.

“Can you keep a secret? You can’t tell anyone. It’s just between you and me, okay?” She’s visibly confused but again nods, acknowledging understanding. “Daddy wanted to surprise you, but he’s flying home with us tomorrow night, and he’s gonna spend the whole week off with us.” 

Her eyes light up, that frown quickly morphing into a smile. “Really!”

You laugh, shushing her even though Joe could sleep through WW3. Not to mention how beat he must be from the match. “Yes, but you gotta pretend like you don’t know when he tells you, okay?”

She nods and exclaims happily, “a whole week. That’s a long time!”

Her saying that suddenly pulls out some sadness from you. Joe has never even been able to spend a full week with his daughter. It’s definitely a bitter thing that you don’t allow yourself to dwell on too much.

“Yes ma’am.” You bring your hand to her bonnet, asking in a soft voice, “does that make you feel less sad?” She nods just as quietly, and you lean over to kiss her forehead. “Good.” 

As expected, she asks gently, “can I sleep with you guys?”

It’s an easy answer. “Of course, baby.” 

She turns her body toward and into you, eyes closing minutes later, followed by subsequent, peaceful sleeping. You follow shortly after, a new, different kind of dream. 

Not as inappropriate. 

Just as happy.

———-

Night Two of WrestleMania rolls around, and immediately, something is different.

Something feels…..off.  It’s very similar to night one in a lot of ways, primarily the schedule and flow of things, along with Joe interacting a lot with you and Callie, as much as he can, at least.

But, he seems off. Like there’s something on his mind that he refuses to admit and/or share.

Everything is almost identical to the first night, essentially the same schedule with you, Joe, and Callie spending time together before he sends you back to the suite with Callie to get her set up with her cousins.

Then he calls back for you about 20 to 30 minutes before the start of the match, and that’s when you really feel it.

He’s in his head a bit, and you can tell by the fact he isn’t as talkative, not distant, just….off.

Waiting until he finishes his set, you walk over and take his hand. “Joe, are you okay?”

There’s an instant dismissal. “I’m fine.” He asks, curious. “Why?”

Shrugging, you’re not sure how to explain it and express as such. “I don’t know…..something just feels off. You seem almost somber.”

“I’m fine, I promise, okay?” He moves his hand to the back of your neck, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His eyes take you in. “I really like this dress.”

Small smile on your face, it’s not enough to distract you from your concern, but it’s appreciated. You definitely saved the best dress for the final night. “It’d look even better on the floor.”

He makes a face, and you giggle. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“You’ve always known this about me,” you point out, sassily but also truthfully. Your freakiness, and his as well, was what naturally connected you two. Everything else that came after seems ordained at this point, like it was always meant to be. “Now stop trying to change the subject.”

He sighs loudly, offering a crumb. “I’m a bit tired, but I’m fine.”

“I know you’re exhausted, baby.” Frowning, you lift your hand to his cheek, beard prickly against your palm. “I really wish you would just take this week to rest. We can do Disney next month. I love Disney, Callie does too, but we love you more and care about your wellbeing more than the fucking mouse.” 

It’s true. Nothing matters more to you than the wellbeing of all your family members, and especially Joe with how taxing his job already is. 

He shakes his head, moving his other hand to your stomach. “I’ve waited too long already. I’m not waiting anymore, Y/N.”

His words confuse you, truly, because Disney only came up a couple months ago. What’s another month? “Joe—”

“Do you trust me?”

There’s a delay, not because you have to think about it, but because you know he’s about to shut this conversation down. 

Voice soft but sure, you answer, “of course, I trust you, Joe.”

His gaze and expression soften as he affirms, “then trust I know what I’m doing, and I’m doing what I want to do.”

This sucks. Knowing there’s something he’s not telling you but that it’s clearly for good reasons. Still, being in the dark doesn’t rub you the right way. But, the last thing you want to do is have him in his head more than he already is, so you agree to drop it..

“Okay.” It’s not okay, but it’ll have to be okay for now. 

It’s the same as before, seeing him out, the I love you’s between the two of you seeming a bit more meaningful, a lot heavier. Even watching his spectacular and majestic entrance, the camera panning on his face as he lifts his belt, you can’t shake that feeling that something doesn’t feel right.

———-

One

Two

Three

It doesn’t register. Not immediately, anyway. You know Joe, err, Roman. He’s adept at missing the pin by a margin of a millisecond, and you expect this to be no different, except it is.

Because Cody pins him.

He actually fucking pins him.

So many thoughts are racing through your head. The entire match had you on the edge of your seat, your mom, Bianca, and even Alexis having to remind you several times that Joe knows what he’s doing and everything will turn out fine. 

It doesn’t help when Callie falls asleep, because then you can be a bit more expressive and open about your anxiety. 

And then he’s fucking pinned. 

Racing thoughts easily morph into heightened anxiety when the major thought focuses and clears up in your mind, obvious as fucking day.

Something is wrong.

You know enough about wrestling through your own fan interest and conversations with Joe that most matches are predetermined. However, there are times when the outcome is changed at the last minute, mostly due to unexpected serious injury.

And that’s what your mind lands on: Joe is injured. Enough to where they had to change the outcome of the match.

And that causes panic to rise throughout your whole body.

Moving carefully as Callie is sleeping peacefully on your lap, you ask your mom to sit with her because you need to go to Joe. 

You need to see him. 

The walk from the suite to the locker room area takes much longer than you’d like it to and only gives your anxiety time to multiply, not to mention the exacerbation by the boisterous sound of the crowd jamming to Cody’s theme song as they celebrate his win.

A win that should have never happened. 

You’re so caught up in your head that you don’t even pay much attention to the fact Joe is in the middle of hugging his cousin when security leads you into his space.

His cousin, Dwayne freaking Johnson aka The Rock. Any other time, you’d be a bit starstruck, because kin to your man and daughter or not, he’s still a celebrity.

But, this isn’t the time for that. 

As soon as they break apart, you manage to give Dwayne a little nod but immediately go back to hyperfocusing on Joe.

“What’s wrong?” Your hands naturally reach out to feel his shoulders, moving to his forearm. “Is it your wrist?” A thought crosses your mind, remembering a particularly looking nasty body slam into the table. “It’s your back, isn’t it?”

His eyes focus on you curiously as he answers, “I’m fine, Y/N.”

“Bullshit.” You’re not in the mood for his tendency to downplay injuries, not when this one just cost him so much. “You’re hurt. Why else would they change the match outcome?”

As soon as those words leave your mouth, it seems like something dawns on him. He motions to the trainers and others in the room to leave you two alone, a stupid decision considering he clearly needs to be checked out. 

When the locker room clears, he speaks again, “Y/N, I’m not hurt, and they didn’t change the match outcome.” His eyes focus on you. “I asked Hunter to lose this match.”

A pause followed by a gasp. “Oh my god, you must have a concussion. Shit, you really need to be checked out.” You turn away for the door. “I’ll get the trainers—”

He calls your name, snatching your hand and pulling you back to him. “I’m not concussed. I know exactly what I’m saying. I met with Hunter and asked to be relieved of the title.”

There goes the racing thoughts that have now shifted from ‘Joe must be seriously hurt’ to ‘Joe must be significantly hurt.’ Because you can’t process what he's, objectively, explaining to you. 

There’s no way he would ever…..

And then your mind wanders to a possibility. 

“Does this have anything to do with the Mariah situation?” As much as you limited your media consumption during that nightmare, you still saw stuff, read how countless wrestling fans were demanding Joe be stripped of his title, saying that he was an “embarrassment” to the company and didn’t deserve to be the face of WWE. Eyes watering for reasons beyond your comprehension, your chest tightens, asking, “was it—was it because of me and—”

Immediately, he’s reaching for you, assuring, “baby, no, of course not.” He’s wiping at your tears. “I asked for this.”

Him repeating himself confuses you more, and makes you wonder if there was a hit to his head that you missed at some point. “Why–why do you keep saying that?” It’s not making any sense from the first time he said it to now. “Joe, you have to either be concussed or, God forbid, something worse because you clearly don’t know what you’re saying to me.” Shaking your head, you lay it out for him, hoping that maybe it’ll trigger something. “You’re seriously telling me that you asked to lose your title, a title you’ve held for almost four years, a title that’s allowed you to break Hulk Hogan, thee Hulk Hogan’s record, among many, in the main event at Wrestlemania.” Even saying it aloud is ludicrous, forcing out a small laugh at how ridiculous it sounds. 

He can’t be for real. 

But, then he says it again, just as clear as day. “Yes.”

And suddenly, you’re not as nervous or scared. 

You’re pissed the fuck off.

Breaking away from him, you shake your head, doing your best to maintain your composure for the sake of where you are as well as the child growing inside you.

“You worked your ass off to get to where you are now, and you just walk away from it all for what?” It’s that lethal combination of anger and confusion, anger that he would do this to himself when he deserves the world and more. Confusion as to whatever logic he used to make this questionable decision. “What would possess you to—” And it’s then that it slowly dawns on you, that the light goes off. “Oh my god, Joe, you didn’t…..” You can only swallow, emotion washing away the anger. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

But, he tells you the complete opposite. “I’m on indefinite leave starting tomorrow.”

And suddenly everything makes sense. All the pieces start coming together. Trinity and Kaylah being weird and quickly backtracking when Trinity suggested you and Callie go on the road with Joe this summer. 

The way all of them seemed to never understand your frustration with Joe for not wanting to start planning for the birth of your baby.

Why he’s been so dodgy about conversations regarding having help for this baby when he can’t be there. 

They had to have known, known this was his plan, known that this is what he was going to do.

At a loss of words, you manage a question, one of many circling in your head. “Did you do it because of the baby?” 

He shakes his head, pushing back your hair. “Y/N, I asked to lose the title as soon as I got back after meeting Callie for the first time.”

And the inability to process continues because it takes a good minute for you to take in what he just said. In a state of semi shock, mouth slightly ajar, you ask in an almost whispered tone, “what?” 

Months…..that was months ago. And beyond that, the first damn time he met his daughter, a daughter he just found out about, he sacrificed the one thing he’d worked his whole life for. 

This….this is unreal.

Swallowing with a level of emotion you know is only reserved for you, he further explains, “I knew the moment I met her that I wasn’t about to miss any more of her life that I already had.”

“Joe….” Emotion is a bitch, quickly climbing up and over the wall before you can catch it. Your eyes watering all over again.. “I never would have asked you to do this—-I didn’t want—”

He brings his hand to the back of your neck, quietly murmuring, “I know you wouldn’t have, but this was my decision, Y/N. This is what I wanted.” He repeats those now haunting words from earlier. “Do you know how many days I had off last year?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “35. 35 days out of the whole year. I can’t be a father to her or this baby a month out of the whole damn year. It’s not fair to her, to the baby, to you, or even me.” Determination fills his voice, as he shakes his head. “I want to be there to take her to school and help her with her homework and watch whatever random Disney movie she has on her mind for the day.” You laugh, not even bothering to stop the tears at this point. They’re inevitable. “And I want to be with you. We need time to focus on us. On this baby. Our family.” He moves his hand protectively to your stomach. “I’m not retiring. I’ll come back when the time is right, and I’ll still have creative input with the Bloodline while I’m away.”

Sniffling, you ask him what you already know to be true. “That’s why you would shut down my conversations about when the baby gets here, isn’t it?” Your voice cracks mid-sentence. “Because…because you knew you would be here for us.”

His gaze is so soft, so loving, so vulnerable. “You supported me when I needed it, now it’s my turn.” He nods, looking down at your conjoined hands on your belly. “I’m not missing anything else.”

And that’s what really does it for you. You throw your body against his, arms around his neck, while his easily go around you, holding you close to him. 

“Thank you.” You’re such an emotional mess, largely due to pregnancy hormones but also because this is the most unexpected yet most wonderful thing that could have happened tonight. He’ll never understand what this means to you. He gave up his dream for you, for Callie, for this baby, for your family. How does one even have a word to describe just what that means? “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a little longer, murmuring how much he loves you. Joe then guides you on the next steps. “Let me finish up, so we can get out of here, okay?”

It feels almost silly to ask, but a part of you wants to hear him say it, needs to hear him say it. “We’re going home?”

He shakes his head, a warm smile on his handsome face. You’ve never felt happier than in this very moment. 

“We’re going home, baby…”

[kaileedraws]

Introduction: Adrien Agreste

Hey fellow miraculers! Here’s Adrien and a little about how he’s going to be portrayed in this AU. I’ll list the characteristics and/or problems that I saw in the show and then delve into how I’m going to take things here. Most of the issues I found in his character is just that his issues aren’t really talked about, but the subtext of a great character is there and he definitely has main character potential

1. His outfit

This is honestly a budget issue/creating recognizable characters for the show, but like all characters, I want to see more Gabriel Agreste fashion on him.

2. Love interest or main character?

In the show, it’s said that he’s the main character, but he doesn’t appear as such. A lot of his emotions, struggles, and life isn’t delved into as much as Marinette, yet he has so much potential. He’s a teenage Rapunzel trapped in a tower waiting for his ladybug in shining armor to come save him. I want to explore not only his fears of losing his freedom, but also his experimentation with rebellion and standing up to his father.

3. Adrien as a Model

In the show, his life as a model isn’t talked about really much, he just thinks it’s boring and it’s a nuisance to him. However, with some research, I discovered how horrible it can be. For one, Adrien would become desensitized to personal space and being touched without permission, putting him into awkward positions in his job and even with classmates. He would get taken advantage of a lot easier. As a model and celebrity, Adrien would also experience Parasocial Confusion — which is when a celebrity has difficulty distinguishing between genuine personal connections/love and relationships/infatuations of fans. This would make relationships with him incredibly difficult.

Additionally, model assault is a huge thing in the fashion industry. Unfortunately, because Adrien is such a pushover and people pleaser, this puts him up to be a prime target for abuse that he probably thinks is just normal (yes this happens, I promise, it sucks.) I want to see a huge character arc with him learning about personal boundaries and learning how to enforce them, with his friends teaching him what is Ok and what is not socially.

4. His personality before his mother dies

If I’m not mistaken, I don’t think we ever get much insight into how Adrien is like before Emilie “disappears.” From what we know about her, she is a princess and an actress, which brings me to my headcanon:

Emilie brought Adrien up on broadway shows, fairytales, and romances — this would explain why he has an “old fashioned” ideology that “boys save girls” (S3E3). This would also explain his gentlemanly behavior— like he was literally written/taught his behavior by a princess (he was. Her name is Emilie).

Inspired by musical theatre and the arts, Adrien began to take dance classes, where he meets Chloe Bourgeois — Emilie is to blame for this, and Gabriel would rather him take fencing, but he gives in. Chloe and Adrien become childhood friends through dance and being partnered often is how they became so close. Based on his “breakdancing” moves as Chat Noir, I think it would also be reasonable that he took other forms of dance too, like hiphop.

As Emilie started to get sicker and sicker, his ambitions for dance and the arts faded. He began fencing like his father wanted to and abandoned dancing. He and Chloe still remained close friends — as this was the only friend he was allowed to have. Gabriel knew Chloe’s dad, after all.

Although Emilie was portrayed to be kind, beautiful, and caring, it’s easy to paint memories of a person better than they actually were. Although she was those things, Emilie also was dramatic, hotheaded, and emotional. If Adrien did something wrong, she’d be quick to scold him harshly, but then just as quick to apologize for her outburst. Toward the end of her life, she was also rather absent from Adrien’s life, as she didn’t have much energy to take care of him anymore. It was difficult for her to take care of him as she got more and more sick, and he would often try to be the best little boy he could because he didn’t want to be a burden on top of her sickness. I mean remember, the last 3 years his dad had gotten him a freaking PEN for his birthday. This occurred when Emilie was still alive.

The person who raised him the most was Nathalie — as his mother became weak, and Gabriel became absent

5. Mental health and coping so he isn’t akumatized

Headcanon that to keep himself from being akumatized, Gabriel has him talk to a counselor who prescribes him multiple medications that work a little TOO well. Meaning? Let’s just say that he starts to become numb to feelings and that it’s just another way for his father to control him — His rebellion streak is going to hit hard yo.

Despite these methods, he’s still going to get akumatized — don’t worry, no one is safe.

His mental health illnesses insinuated from the show include depression, ADHD, parasocial confusion, abandonment trauma, social anxiety disorder, attachment disorder/trauma (which leads to lack of boundaries), and to add some spice, probably claustrophobia (or just feeling trapped). This poor boy has so much he needs to shift through and I’m excited to guide him on an arc to healing.

Conclusion

I think Adrien is my favorite character simply because of how there are certain aspects of him that I heavily relate to — plus he’s such a kind soul who has every right to turn into a villain but stays a sunshine golden retriever boy. It takes a lot of strength and determination to go through so much and be good in the end. I can’t wait to write him in this AU and give the boy the healing and happiness he deserves. There’s so much more I could talk about with him, but this is just the beginning!

[lovelyo]

Season 3 part 2 will be Ass. Let me Tell You Why.

Cause in the end, Penelope, Lady Whistledown, the one who has left devastation in people’s lives will get all what she wants. The man that she wants, the attention that she wants, the family she always wanted to be(so envious of them she talked shit about them ), will get her best friend back, might have the heir for that dumbass Featherington plot line, might get the Queen’s pardon and above all else, will most likely not give up LW cause they made LW such an integral part of the show.(so in that case, she’ll be even more filthy rich)

And if we go by leaked spoilers, it is said that Colin will be mad at Penelope for like 1 episode until Kanthony talks some “sense” into him. So that just tells me Kanthony will be OOC because there’s no damn way Anthony would let that beast comment about his wife slide.

There are no stakes when it comes to this season cause we all know how it’s finna go down. If Penelope gets any type of consequences, then her very undeserved HEA is doomed so everything is going to have to go her way for the already idiotic plot to make some form of sense. It’s like the love triangle in part 1, what the hell was the point of Lord Debling when everyone and their ancestors knew Colin and Penelope were end game? So we can see Colin’s cringe angst? If we already know the answer to the love triangle, there’s no point. The “find you a husband” plot line was stupid as shit anyway, but it’s whatever now.

Ugh, then we have to sit through more awkward love scenes between asshat 1 and 2

Eloise threatening Penelope with her LW identity is going to amount to nothing cause we know Penelope isn’t gonna receive any comeuppance. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they made Eloise apologize to Penelope for…🤷🏾‍♂️🤷(let’s apologize to the toxic friend for not dealing with their toxicity)

For Penelope to have a happy ending, she has to get away scot free and that’s what boils my blood. I hate in media and literature when a character goes around, creates chaos and receives nothing for it or just a slap on a wrist. I’ve noticed an increase in it lately too. Also, I’m tired of writers not severing their bias from their writing. I’ve been encountering many series lately where the writer(s) have favoritism towards a specific character and gives them the easy route, bends the world for them and pull punches just because they like them so much. It’s really aggravating cause you see everyone else getting put through the wringer and then you see the favored character walking through Candyland. It hurts the story, the character, and frankly makes you hate the character.

Everyone around Penelope is gonna act brain dead in order for Penelope to get what she wants and I’m not here for it. Even the general audience ain’t for it. The only people cheering this madness are the asylum patients called Polin fans with delusions that Penelope deserves the world.

I’m not even looking forward to Francesca and John’s story cause of the Poolin fecal matter I’ll have to swim through to get there. At this point, I’m might just watch spoilers of part 2 cause it’s not worth it.

P.S. Watch Cressida get the short end of the stick cause she’s the “bully” of the show and Penelope is the “victim”. Watch them break Creloise because of the “I don’t want you hanging around Eloise” subplot which will ultimately fuel Eloise and Penelope becoming friends again. Also, Penelope and Cressida competed for Lord Debling just for Penelope to go “sike” and marry Colin so she wasted Debling’s time and made Cressida feel like shit because she wasn’t chosen. P.S.S- Polins are huge ass hypocrites cause they ragged on Eloise being privileged and having “everything” but are silent about Penelope being privileged. By the end of this season, Penelope will basically have everything, even more so than Eloise, but sure, Penelope is definitely not privileged 😑. Penelope is privileged inside the world and outside by production, why are we denying this?