#Midweek Message

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Midweek Message: How Innovation Is Enhancing Accessibility

P-R-A-C-T-I-CAL things have to be practical, or whatever that song by Chappell Roan says! #Accessibility #BuildMyAccessibleHome #MidweekMessage #Disability #SesameAccess #ChappellRoan #HotToGo

Accessibility in Action P-R-A-C-T-I-CAL things have to be practical, or whatever that song by Chappell Roan says! I recently saw a video on TikTok where hotel staff were helping @theinclusivetraveller use their lift to exit the building, which I found pretty interesting. What makes concepts and ideas like this great, and what could they mean for accessibility? Let’s dive deeper into how such…

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

gosh i’m so loving ur stoner suguru stuff…u are so good i love ur work !!!!

tysm!! appreciate you for reading <3—think I’m obsessed with him [prev] [nxt]

tl;dr bong rips with stoner!suguru getou (gone wrong)

it’s not long before suguru invites you back to his place. first, he messages to check if now’s a good time. then, he’s calling to ask if you’re free next weekend. he mentions there’s going to be a block party on his street—an unofficial hempfest of sorts. according to him, the turnout is always huge, and this year, he’s supplying bud for the event.

“we’re setting up a mobile cannabis bar,” he explains, nonchalantly. 

“flashy, easy to distribute from.”

apparently, the event is where gojo’s new strain, bleu dragon’s breath, will debut. “we’re not working the event,” suguru adds bluntly. “we’ve done more than enough in production; they can push the product themselves.”

you laugh at his tone. “what are you, some notorious drug lord?”

he brushes it off with a chuckle and says he’ll pick you up from work friday to avoid the traffic jam that’s sure to hit later.

“and,” he adds with a mischievous lilt, “we’ll pregame with gojo. he just got a new bong—we’ve gotta break it in.”

naturally, you’re down.

by midweek, you realize how big this block party really is when you see flyers plastered around campus. they’re everywhere—on bulletin boards, lampposts, your timeline—featuring bold graphics and a list of attendees: caterers, vendors, and a handful of local influencers.

the day of, suguru pulls up outside your job in his sleek black car, turning a few heads as you approach. your older coworkers eye the tinted windows, whispering amongst themselves.

he greets you with a warm smile as you settle into the passenger seat. “how was work, pretty girl?”

he’s wearing a black nike tech set—your favorite color on him, not that there’s much competition since it’s about eighty percent of his wardrobe. his hair is half-up, the loose bun framing his face just right.

you tell him about the ridiculous filing error that ate up your entire shift. as you talk, he takes your hand, brushing light kisses across your knuckles.

he gets a call from shoko a few minutes later, muttering an apology before answering. it sounds like some last-minute adjustments for the event.

by the time you reach his street, it’s buzzing with activity—tents going up, booths being set, a dj assembling his gear. suguru parks on a side street, and you walk the rest of the way to his building. inside, the energy is palpable, music blasting from the first floor.

upstairs, you hear the shower running and gojo belting out some song at full volume. suguru rolls his eyes. “obnoxious as always,” he mutters, leading you to his room.

you’ve packed a change of clothes in your work bag. setting it down, you hear a loud beep from the kitchen.

“that’s the sushi bake,” suguru says. “gojo’s idea. guy’s a munchies connoisseur.” he heads off to grab it from the oven while you change into an olive-green two-piece skirt set. after refreshing your curls and makeup, you find suguru divvying up the sushi.

“damn,” he whistles as you approach. he feeds you a piece, his gaze lingering. “tastes good, but not half as good as you look right now.”

his hands slide to your waist as he presses a soft kiss to your pulse point.

you hear another whistle, this time, from behind you. “that’s all you, suguru?”

you turn to find gojo, freshly showered, white hair damp and sticking to his forehead. he’s wearing light gray cargos, white adidas, and an azure zip-up that matches his eyes.

“if not,” he grins, “I can easily take over.”

suguru shoves his shoulder. “satoru, please—don’t push it.”

gojo giggles, pulling you into a quick side hug. “what can I say? It’s to be expected when you’re with a baddie. I’d know—I’m a baddie myself.”

you laugh. “I know that’s right.”

suguru groans, “I’m going to change.”

while he’s gone, gojo fills you in on the event lineup and gushes about his new bong, which sits on the coffee table. it’s sleek, with royal blue detailing, almost like a microscope. he tells you that the cannabis bar is going to be managed by shoko tonight, they hired toji, from the first floor, and his buddy as servers. he says they’re always in need of work, as gojo bluntly put it, “they’ll do anything for a dollar.”

when suguru returns in a black compression shirt and windbreaker pants, your brain stalls. the shirt clings to his muscles, accentuating the ridges of his abdomen and the curve of his biceps. he’s leisurely brushing his hair out with a paddle brush, framing his face, and you resist the urge to drop his drawls. 

he grabs the bong and grins. “ready?”

the three of you pile onto the couch, gojo calling dibs for the first hit. he sprinkles the weed into the bowl before packing it down and lighting it. wrapping his lips around the tube, he inhales deeply. smoke billows, rising steadily as the water bubbles. when he exhales, his face twists in pain, and he erupts into a coughing fit.

suguru slaps his back. “it’s okay to cough, man.”

once gojo recovers, suguru takes a hit, inhaling sharply and blowing smoke out through his nose. he smirks. “just not built like me, satoru.”

gojo glares but says nothing. you take the bong next, asking gojo to light it. following suguru’s instructions, you inhale, the smoke harsh on your throat. you manage half a hit before passing it back, coughing softly.

“pulls smooth,” suguru says, finishing your rip with ease.

the session continues until you and gojo are slouched, thoroughly toasted. only suguru’s still going strong. you poke gojo’s side. 

“you feeling it?”

he cracks an eye open, pupils hazy. “… yeah, you?”

you blink at him, grinning stupefied. you both dissolve into giggles, drawing a look from suguru. 

“what’s so funny,” he runs his hand through his hair twisting at the ends, “giggling like a couple of schoolgirls.”

“you wish,” gojo wheezes. “your secret fantasy.”

suguru stretches, “it scares me that you keep adding yourself into the equation,” he stands and walks to the window, peering out. “we should head out soon.”

now that he mentions it, you hear the rhythmic thump of music playing outside, the muffled shout of the dj over the mic. 

suguru taps the window, “I lent them my speakers, the sound output capacity is insane.”

you rise to your feet, reaching down to swat gojo’s shoulder. he glances between the two of you, his eyes heavy and bloodshot. “kaay~ ‘m ready,” he drawls.

as you shuffle out, suguru checks his phone.

“shoko says the bar’s a hit. everything’s running smoothly.”

“as it should be,” you murmur, slightly delayed, trailing him out the door.

outside, the street is teeming with life. cars are jammed along both sides, a few haphazardly parked on sidewalks or half-on, half-off lawns. people are everywhere—some lounging on car hoods, others weaving through the crowd. you catch sight of a few familiar faces from uni as you pass. the dj setup dominates the scene, blasting music loud enough to vibrate through your chest. the largest crowd is gathered around a black tent housing caterers busy with trays of food.

suguru steers the three of you toward the cannabis bar, nodding at familiar faces on the way. the bar is sleek, its emerald-green counter illuminated by a glowing marijuana leaf at its center.

behind the counter stands toji and another man, both in black muscle tees under matching green aprons. a long-haired brunette, presumably shoko, sorts through mylar bags behind them.

toji spots suguru and waves broadly. “my boy! appreciate you hooking me up with this gig. you really came through.”

his voice is louder than your nerves can handle in your current state, so you linger behind suguru, offering a small wave instead. shoko picks up a mylar bag—sapphire blue, sparkly, with a dragon head spitting fire in the corner—and starts discussing marketing strategies with toji’s partner. you’re about to zone out entirely when your phone vibrates in your hand.

gojo satoru has added you to a group chat

bongbros  gojo satoru: what’s fr goign on rn XD

gojo’s timing is impeccable, and you have to stifle a laugh.

you: idk i fee l like im stuck you: can’t stop staring loll

gojo satoru: tryna figure out y toji & shui r working in wife beaters wtfff

you snort.

you: nah cuz y it look like yall hired former inmates from a reentry program

sugu: lmfaoao sugu: toji genuinely has no shame he woulda done it shirtless

gojo satoru: slut

sugu: guys fr though say something your starting to look weird af

you glance up to find suguru glaring at you and gojo while shoko patiently explains the menu to an inquiring couple.

gojo clears his throat, “looking good, toji. how’s little megumi?”

of all the things he could’ve said, that was the wrong one. suguru crosses his arms, and toji’s jaw tightens.

“actually, the boy’s doing good. his mom’s bringing him today. wanted to show him I can be a good father figure or whatever.”

“dad!”

as if summoned, a child barrels into toji’s side. he’s small, with spiky black hair and wide, curious eyes. his tiny fists clutch toji’s waist.

“didn’t think you’d be here,” the boy says. “mom said you were lying.”

toji groans, ruffling the boy’s hair. “don’t listen to her when she says shi–uh, stuff like that, kid.” 

he fist-bumps megumi before ushering him off. “go run around, sport. saw some other kids out here somewhere.”

megumi spins on his heel and dashes off, shouting a cheerful, “see ya!” over his shoulder.

a dark-haired woman, her shoulder-length hair as wiry as megumi’s, approaches, hands on her hips. “now where did that boy run off to? don’t tell me you lost him already.”

you deadpan at suguru, who’s busy typing on his phone.

bongbros sugu: this is about to blow my high. how do we leave

gojo peeks at the screen and quickly improvises. “guys, nanami just texted me. he’s down the street. let’s go.”

without hesitation, you, suguru, and gojo slip away unnoticed, leaving toji and his ex mid-argument.

“good save, satoru,” suguru mutters, his hand settling on your waist as he guides you through the sea of people. you poke gojo in the back playfully.

“came up with that lie pretty quick.”

gojo chuckles. “no, I’m actually a terrible liar. he really did text me—he’s over there.” he points down the street.

suguru drums his fingers lightly on your side. “you go ahead. we’re grabbing drinks from the tent.”

gojo flashes two thumbs up and spins on his heel. “text me~!”

the turnout is massive. everywhere you look, people are holding emerald-green cups from the cannabis bar–thc infused drinks. the atmosphere is charged—friends chatting, couples dirty-dancing near the dj booth, laughter blending into the music.

in the catering tent, the servers are polished, dressed in slacks and tucked-in shirts. suguru orders a beer, and you ask for a frozen wine, craving something fancy. the drink is fruity and refreshing, a cold burst of relief in the humid air. you let out a content sigh.

“cotton mouth?” suguru teases, popping the cap off his beer.

“you don’t even know. feels like I haven’t had anything to drink in years.”

he chuckles, taking a long sip, his throat bobbing as he swallows. the sight draws your gaze for a moment longer than you’d like to admit.

suguru smirks and leans closer, his hand sliding down your back to give your ass a playful squeeze. “can’t have that now, can we?”

he kisses you, the malty scent of beer mingling with his warmth. your free hand moves to his arm, fingers tracing the firm muscle beneath his sleeve. the two of you sway gently to the music, the air thick with liquor, sweat, and smoked barbecue.

another kiss lands on your temple, tender and lingering, before your phones buzz simultaneously.

bongbros gojo satoru: guys guys guys guys gojo satoru: sports cars doing donuts gojo satoru: nanami’s got the lambo gojo satoru: djfojfjdsd

sugu: stop blowing our shit up

gojo satoru: D:

sugu: on our way

by now, the sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow over the scene, but somehow the energy has only intensified. hollers echo down the street, engines revving as the smell of burning rubber fills the air. suguru had mentioned nanami before—a childhood friend from their hometown. he’s a salaryman, and from what you’ve heard from gojo can be pretty uptight, but is insanely wealthy.

you spot gojo’s hand waving high above the crowd, his ridiculous height a beacon. as you approach, you see a yellow corvette drifting at the fork in the road, tires screeching, while onlookers cheer wildly.

gojo is leaning into the open driver’s window of a sleek green lamborghini. the man in the driver’s seat is handsome, with slicked-back sandy-blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a jawline that could cut glass. you blink, wondering if everyone in suguru’s circle is preternaturally attractive. there’s got to be something in their water.

“ah, there you are.” suguru’s voice snaps you back to reality as he introduces you to nanami, who greets you with a polite nod and a brief, “pleasure to meet you. heard lots.”

gojo is grinning like a kid, egging nanami on. “c’mon, rev it! assert your dominance, nanamin~”

before you can roll your eyes, you feel a tug on your shirt. confused, you glance down and find little megumi, his lips stained blue from a popsicle that’s dripping steadily onto the pavement.

“hello, miss.” his voice is timid, and his big eyes flit nervously to the side. “um my dad told me to tell you that you look really pretty tonight. he said you should talk to him later.”

you blink, stifling a laugh as his cheeks flush pink.

“and that’s it. I only said yes so I could get this popsicle.”

he’s so earnest it’s hard to be mad at toji’s sleazy attempt to use his own kid as a wingman. you pat megumi’s head gently.

“thanks for telling me. you can let him know suguru will talk to him. now go enjoy that popsicle!”

the boy beams and darts off, leaving a trail of blue drips in his wake. when you turn back, suguru and gojo have joined nanami in the lambo, chatting casually. deciding to tread carefully, you pull out your phone to message gojo privately.

you: soooo toji’s kid just told me his dad thinks I look pretty. how mad will that make suguru?

gojo’s eyes widen as he reads the message.

gojo satoru: :0 come again?? gojo satoru: using his son is crazy work gojo satoru: but just tell him. he’ll prob just be annoyed

gojo is wrong. suguru isn’t just annoyed—he’s pissed.

when you relay the story to the group chat, suguru immediately gets out of the car, his jaw tight. 

“I’m sorry, he did what?”

in hindsight, telling a cross-faded suguru wasn’t your best move. you try to downplay it. “it’s fine, just tell him off later. no big deal.”

suguru rolls his neck, drawing in a deep breath. gojo scrambles out of the car. “whoa, whoa, what’s going on?”

suguru hands gojo his beer and flashes you a deceptively calm smile. “I think I’ll talk to him now. he’s got some nerve.”

you and gojo exchange panicked looks before rushing to follow him as he storms through the crowd.

“toji!”

toji looks up from where he’s crouched by the bar, snuffing out a cigarette. he grins sheepishly, straightening up.

“hey, neph. c’mon, ’s all love. jusst jokes.” his words slur, he must’ve got into something despite working the event.

suguru doesn’t stop, an unreadable look on his face. 

“stand up.”

toji chuckles nervously but rises to his feet. “no hard feelings?”

suguru tilts his head. “where’s your son?”

“two streets down with the neighbor ki—”

THWACK.

suguru’s fist connects with toji’s cheek in a brutal arc. gojo curses, spilling beer on your top as he stumbles forward.

“shit, shit, shit!”

toji staggers back, clutching his face, but suguru doesn’t advance. he exhales slowly, his voice low and sharp. “you’re fired.”

toji scoffs, but before he can retort, megumi’s mother shouts from across the yard, “now, toji, I know your sorry-ass didn’t just lose another job—”

gojo grabs you by the wrist, steering you and suguru away before the scene escalates further.

his grip is firm, unfaltering, as he weaves through the crowd until you all regroup behind a tricked-out silver nissan. suguru leans against the car, running a hand through his hair.

“sorry, guys,” he starts, his tone low and tense. “I shouldn’t have done that. he’s been disrespecting me all week.”

you shoot him a sympathetic look. “I don’t care about the punch—it is what it is.”

gojo snickers, folding his arms. “honestly? someone had to do it.”

“but,” you continue, your voice soft, “what about the bar? you don’t want this mess tied back to it.”

suguru sighs, nodding. “you’re right. I should go back, smooth things over. shoko already texted me the numbers—we’re good to pack it up early.”

gojo glances down at you and his eyes widen in realization. “shit, I didn’t mean to spill beer all over you. I can take you back to the apartment so you can clean up.”

you look down, grimacing at the sticky fabric clinging to your chest. “yeah, it’s starting to get gross.”

gojo extends his hand out, palm down. “sounds good. okay, bongbros—on three!”

suguru visibly cringes, briefly cupping your cheek in his hand before heading back toward the bar.

gojo pouts dramatically. “rude.”

the apartment building is eerily quiet, with most tenants likely still outside. now that you’re away from the thumping music and roaring crowd, you realize your ears are ringing.

on the elevator ride up, you and gojo start debriefing the night’s events, laughing at how surreal it all felt.

“I still can’t believe it,” gojo says, shaking his head. “he just—boom! punched the shit out of him.”

you’re giggling when you trudge inside. gojo flicks on the lights and immediately flops face-down on the couch.

“jus let y’rself into sugu’s room f’clothes,” he mumbles into the cushion.

in suguru’s bedroom, you peel off your soaked top, smoothing out your skirt—which, miraculously, stayed dry. you grab some wipes from his dresser to clean the sticky residue off your chest and arms before rifling through his closet.

you settle on one of his white button-up shirts, the fabric loose and soft as it drapes over your frame, the hem brushing the top of your skirt.

gojo calls out from the other room. “hey, I’m gonna run back downstairs—sugu says toji and megumi’s mom are in a drunken spat. gonna check on the kid.”

“go ahead,” you reply, sprawling across suguru’s bed. his scent surrounds you, and in the quiet privacy of his room, your body finally relaxes.

the dizziness from being crossfaded creeps up on you, making you feel hot and languid. catching your reflection in the mirror, you notice how disheveled you look—hair tousled, the button-up hanging loosely off your shoulders, revealing a hint of your lacy black bra. your skirt has ridden up just enough to tease the matching panties beneath.

your phone buzzes.

sugu: you okay? sugu: sorry again. sugu: if you want to leave, I understand.

you: sugu I’m not mad

sugu: were you able to change?

you smirk. lifting your phone, you lean forward slightly, letting the shirt hang off your chest just enough to entice. angling your phone, you snap a couple photos.

you: 2 attachments sent

you watch the text bubble appear, then vanish, then reappear.

sugu: fuck. sugu: you look so fucking good. sugu: my pretty girl.

you: you like?

sugu: so much. sugu: I’m almost done. want me to join you?

you: that’s not all I want…

you record a voice memo, your tone low and sultry. “I want you to come up here and undress me, sugu—I need you.”

you hit send, watching as he saves the audio. for a few agonizing moments, nothing happens.

then a notification pops up—not from suguru, but from the group chat.

bongbros gojo satoru: OMFG gojo satoru: LMAOOAOAOAO gojo satoru: SUGURU’S PHONE JUST CONXECTED TO THE SPEAKER

your stomach drops.

gojo satoru: sounded sexy btw gojo satoru: sugu please don’t punch me 4 that^

you: the whole message played???

gojo satoru: nah, just the first 2 secs

you: omg

gojo satoru: LMAO sugu just had the dj start scrubbing a track so it seemed like part of the set gojo satoru: his face is so red

sugu: almost just had a fuckign heart attack sugu: my phone auto connected to bluetooth

you: I’m sorry suguu :( you: <3

sugu: <3

gojo satoru: <3

sugu: satoru

gojo satoru: :P gojo satoru: guys megumi is gonna stay over tn his parents are having drunk make up sex in the backseat of toji’s honda gojo satoru: I was keeping him distracted with games on my phone were coming up now

sugu: me too i feel fried

by the time gojo returns with megumi, you’re completely drained. you help him set up blankets and pillows on the couch while megumi disappears into gojo’s room with his phone.

gojo flops onto the couch dramatically. “I just… can’t.”

smiling weakly, you drape a blanket over him before returning to suguru’s bed. shedding your skirt, you collapse onto the comforter, exhaustion pulling you into a haze.

suguru slips in quietly sometime later, flopping on top of you.

you wheeze, tapping his arm. “can’t. breathe.”

he rolls to the side, cradling your face with his hands. his dark eyes soften as he presses gentle kisses to your nose, forehead, and cheek.

“you stayed,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with relief.

“of course,” you whisper, smiling.

suguru pulls you into his arms, his chest flush against your back as his lips brush against your neck. his warm, steady presence lulls you into that foggy space between wakefulness and sleep—until his lips press slow, deliberate kisses along your neck, and you let out a shaky moan.

his fingers twitch against your waist, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. “that’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs.

his hand moves with a desperate sort of hunger, tracing the curve of your breast before slipping beneath the lace of your bra. when his finger grazes the metal of your piercing, the mix of cool and heat sends a jolt through you, drawing out a whimper you can’t contain.

“so sensitive.”

his tongue drags a wet stripe up the side of your neck, and his foot hooks around your ankle, guiding you to straddle him. his palms slide down your thighs, spreading them as he pulls you flush against him.

“you drove me crazy tonight,” he breathes into your ear, voice laced with want. “your voice message… so needy.”

you nod, squirming as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging playfully.

“say it,” he demands softly.

your bottom lip slips free from your teeth, likely raw from all your biting. “need you so badly, sugu.”

the desperation in your tone has him groaning low in his throat. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs, his breath fanning against your skin. “but you gotta be quiet for me.”

his fingers find your clothed clit, moving in maddeningly slow circles. your breath stutters as you nod weakly in agreement. his pace quickens, and his tongue flicks teasingly at the shell of your ear, making you momentarily forget how to breathe.

“baby, you’re soaked,” he whispers, his voice tinged with amusement. “these panties are drenched.”

he slides his fingers along the fabric, slick from your arousal, and you squeak when he skims over your clit. his hands spread your thighs wider, one steadying you while the other pulls your panties to the side.

“be a good girl and stay quiet,” he instructs, pressing two fingers inside you with deliberate slowness.

they’re thick, filling you to the point of blissful ache, and the sensation draws breathy, shallow moans from your lips.

“shhh.”

his fingers curl inside you, seeking the spot that has your thighs trembling. he sets a steady pace, each motion purposeful. between his hot breath, the mounting pressure in your core, and the obscene sounds of your wetness, you’re overwhelmed.

your release builds fast, slick gushing around his fingers. you whisper his name, fighting to stay quiet, even as he speeds up. his free hand finds your clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles.

“feels good?” he asks, the rasp in his voice nearly enough to undo you.

you manage a stuttered, “s-sugu, feels so good—ah, ’m close.”

“already?” he teases, his smirk audible. “gonna come for me? come all over my fingers?”

his words are your undoing. your stomach tightens, and you gasp out, “sugu, gonna—”

before you can finish, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you teetering on the edge. a strangled moan escapes, muffled when he clamps his hand over your mouth.

“shhh, baby.”

your tongue darts out to lick at his palm, and he groans low in his chest. his fingers flick over your clit, and you shudder as he pushes them into your mouth.

“suck.”

you obey, wrapping your lips around his fingers, the taste of yourself flooding your senses. he continues working you, fingers stroking deep inside, drawing out your climax. your walls flutter around him, your muffled cries vibrating against his fingers as you ride out the waves.

when you finally catch your breath, your body feels languid, boneless. he withdraws his fingers with a wet pop, leaving a string of saliva between them and your lips.

“you did so well for me,” he coos, pressing soft kisses along the side of your neck. his hands smooth over your skin, tucking your panties back into place as he cradles you against him.

the buzz of satisfaction hums in your veins, and his words blur into the haze of post-orgasm bliss. as he rests you on your side, his touch soothing, sleep pulls you under. the last thing you think is his name, whispered like a prayer.

[@tojisth3rdwife consider this my formal apology for bum!toji]

[msnmnt]

Wrapped Up In You

Summary: Just a short little bit of fluff because who doesn’t want Mason cuddles after a long week. 🥰

Your week had dragged.

Long hours at work consisting of back to back meetings, your inbox overflowing with urgent demands, and to top it all off, your boss who couldn’t tell the difference between setting expectations and pushing you to the brink had been on your back the entire time.

When Friday evening finally arrived, your brain was foggy and your body physically ached with the kind of exhaustion that only sleep could fix. Every bone in your body craved rest, and all you really wanted to do was sleep. 

You were slouched on your sofa, the end of another episode of the rubbish you were watching on Netflix signalling that it was definitely time to get ready for your date with Mason.

Even through your exhaustion, the thought of him stirred something inside you. It was still early days, but you knew there was something special about him. You had never met a man so warm and kind, and that only added to the attraction that had been there since your first date.

Cancelling had crossed your mind more than once, but the idea of disappointing him, of giving the wrong impression, made your stomach twist. You didn’t want him to think you didn’t care. You did - more than you were willing to admit at this early stage.

You had just about managed to drag yourself over to your dressing table, trying to gather the strength to start applying your makeup when your phone vibrated. 

Mason Do you mind if we take a rain check on the restaurant? I’d still love to see you - how’s a cosy evening in at mine sound? x

You stared at the message, rereading it before letting out a sigh of relief. It was like he knew just what you needed, and if you hadn’t already been halfway to falling for him, that might’ve just done it.

By the time you arrived at his place, your body was still tired, but you felt lighter. The weight of your week hadn’t vanished, but you had managed to put it to the back of your mind, excited to see the boy who you had been thinking about an embarrassing amount since your last date.

It had only been a week since you’d last seen Mason, but in the early stages of something new, something that felt like it had weight and potential, it had felt like a lifetime to you, and you hoped it had for him too.

Mason had been away for a midweek match, and you’d tried not to miss him, failing miserably.

When the door opened, he was standing there in a hoodie two sizes too big, slouchy shorts and a pair of socks. His hair was a little messy, his smile even softer than usual, sleepy - the kind that made your heart skip a beat. He looked the most casual you had ever seen him, and your insides swarmed with butterflies at how comfortable he clearly felt around you.

“Hey, darling.” He murmured, arms already reaching for you. “Come here.”

You stepped into his embrace, and for the first time all week, your body truly relaxed, melting into his.

The hug didn't last too long before Mason pulled away, keen to show you around. His home looked like something out of a high-end magazine - open plan, perfect finishes, furniture that you could only dream of owning. It was massive, the kind of place you might have felt out of place. But somehow, Mason had managed to infuse it with warmth. A combination of the soft lighting and the faint scent of something herbaceous - it felt lived in, and you felt at ease.

After giving you the obgliatry house tour, the pair of you finally settled in his living room.

The fire crackled gently in the corner, a single candle placed on the coffee table gently flickering.

"You didn’t have to do this, Mase.”

"Wanted to make you feel comfortable." Mason spoke, sitting himself down next to you and the feel of his bare leg gently rubbing up against yours made your heart skip a beat. "I’m sorry we’re not going out, I just - to be completely honest, I’m absolutely shattered and all I wanted was to do was stay home and have you cuddled up in my arms.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, knowing his intentions for the evening were just as pure as yours. 

The film was pretty much just background noise to your quiet conversation, your shared laughter and stories about your day exchanged between soft silences. Mason sat a little distance away from you at first, one leg folded up on the sofa, before getting closer as you got more and more comfortable which each other till his arm was wrapped around you, his hand lazily drawing shapes on your back while you leaned into his chest.

The conversation naturally died down, and Mason noticed you stifling a yawn into his chest.

“Long week for you too, huh?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“The longest,” you mumbled. “It was like you read my mind, postponing going out for dinner. I think I would’ve fallen asleep in my food.” You gave a soft chuckle and Mason tutted. 

“You could’ve cancelled, you know.” His voice dropped a little lower, showing he was serious. “I mean, I’d have been gutted, but I would have understood.”

“I wanted to see you.” You said quieter than you meant to, your voice catching slightly at the end. Your cheeks warmed instantly, and you avoided his gaze for a beat, unsure if you’d said too much too soon.

“Me too. I missed you this week.” Mason spoke surely, his voice not faltering at all which made your chest feel a little tight in the best way.

You shifted slightly, angling yourself so you could tuck more comfortably into him, your face resting against the side of his hoodie. 

He moved with you, one arm curling around your back, the other finding your hand under the blanket, his fingers slipping easily between yours.

All the outside noise disappeared, and all you could focus on was the rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body against your shoulder and the way he held you like it was the most natural thing in the world. You adjusted your position, curling further into him until you found that perfect fit - your head resting beneath his chin.

He found your hand with his once again, his fingers automatically intertwining with yours.

You didn’t speak after that, feeling yourself get more and more sleepy as you allowed yourself to close your eyes for just a second too long.

The moment you started to drift off, Mason felt it. Your breathing evened out against his chest and your grip on his hand loosened slightly. He looked down at you, gaze soft, and couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

Mason’s thumb grazed the back of your hand gently, careful not to wake you, just wanting to keep the contact.

He debated carrying you into his bed where he knew you’d be far more comfortable, but decided against it. You hadn’t had that conversation yet, about taking the next step and staying the night, and he didn’t want to assume that you’d be okay with spending the night in his bed. He definitely didn’t want to risk messing anything up.

So instead he shifted carefully, reaching behind him for the thick throw on the back of the couch. He slowly wrapped it around you both, making sure your entire body was covered. He pulled you a little bit closer, and that’s when you stirred.

“Mason?” Your voice was rough, filled with sleep and vulnerability.

He stilled before soothing your arm with his hand. “Shh, you’re okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

You murmured something he didn’t quite catch and nestled yourself closer. Your cheek pressed against his chest, the beat of his heart steady in your ear.

He bent down and gently left a feather light kiss to the top of your head.

A few minutes later, Mason’s breathing evened out, his arm snug around your waist, his fingers resting protectively against your hip. Every now and then they twitched, like his body was still holding you even in his dreams.

And just as you let sleep consume you completely, you were sure you had never felt so safe in someone’s arms.

You smiled against his chest, your lips barely pressing a soft, silent kiss to the fabric of his hoodie, and let the rest of the world fade away.

[glowettee]

hi mindy!!! hope you’re doing well angel <3 i’ve been loving your different school-related blog posts & series’! 💓💓

idk if you’ve covered this topic before, but if you haven’t, how do you deal with academic burn out or what helps you get out of burn out episodes?

lots of love!!

faustina 🌷

୨♡୧ how to deal with academic burnout | guide by mindy ୨♡୧

hiiiii faustina ♡ @milkoomi

thank you for your sweet message, angel! i'm so touched that you've been enjoying my content. i absolutely love the content you've been posting!!!! your question about academic burnout is so important, and i want to share my personal experience and tips that have helped me through those challenging times. this post will be a bit lengthy, since it's an important topic and i want to give you the best answer to your question possible!! <333 thank you so much for asking this faustina, hopefully this post can help you!

⋆｡°✩ understanding academic burnout ⋆｡°✩

first, let's acknowledge that burnout is completely normal and valid. it's your mind and body telling you that something needs to change. i've been there multiple times, especially during exam seasons, and i've learned that recognizing the signs early is crucial.

signs i've noticed in my journey:

↳ feeling disconnected from your studies ↳ overwhelming exhaustion that sleep doesn't fix ↳ losing interest in subjects you usually love ↳ difficulty concentrating on simple tasks ↳ emotional sensitivity about academics ↳ physical symptoms like headaches or tension

⋆｡°✩ immediate steps for relief ⋆｡°✩

when i feel burnout creeping in, these are my go-to immediate actions:

gentle reset ritual: ↳ close all study materials (put everything away, close tabs) ↳ make a cup of chamomile tea (or any tea) ↳ step outside for fresh air (even just 5 minutes) ↳ put on soft instrumental music or a calm playlist ↳ light a lavender candle

physical reset: ↳ take a warm shower ↳ change into cozy clothes ↳ do light stretches ↳ practice deep breathing ↳ give yourself a facial massage

⋆｡°✩ long-term healing strategies ⋆｡°✩

here's my detailed approach to recovering from burnout:

schedule reformation: ↳ implement a "sunset time" for studying ↳ create designated rest days ↳ break study sessions into 25-minute chunks ↳ schedule joy breaks between subjects ↳ use time blocking instead of to-do lists

environment refresh: ↳ rearrange your study space ↳ declutter desk and materials ↳ bring in plants or fresh flowers ↳ change your study location occasionally ↳ create a cozy corner for breaks

mindset shifts: ↳ replace "i must" with "i choose to" ↳ celebrate small progress ↳ practice self-compassion ↳ set realistic expectations ↳ remember grades don't define worth

⋆｡°✩ my secret recovery techniques ⋆｡°✩

these are some personal methods i've developed:

the "joy subject" method: ↳ study one subject you genuinely enjoy ↳ approach it with curiosity, not pressure ↳ use creative study methods ↳ connect it to your personal interests ↳ share what you learn with others

the "aesthetic reset": ↳ create a new study playlist ↳ buy one special stationery item ↳ write notes in a different style ↳ change your study spot aesthetics ↳ start a fresh notebook

the "gentle productivity" approach: ↳ focus on learning, not achieving ↳ use the "just 5 minutes" rule ↳ incorporate movement between tasks ↳ practice mindful studying ↳ reward small accomplishments

⋆｡°✩ preventive measures ⋆｡°✩

to prevent future burnout:

daily practices: ↳ morning journaling ↳ evening reflection ↳ regular movement breaks ↳ nature connection time ↳ social connection

weekly rituals: ↳ sunday planning sessions ↳ midweek check-ins ↳ study-free evenings ↳ creative hobby time ↳ self-care dates

schedule reformation (detailed breakdown):

implement a "sunset time" for studying: create a strict cut-off time for academic work, ideally 2-3 hours before bed. i personally stop at 7:30pm, allowing my mind to fully disconnect. this creates a gentle boundary between study time and rest time, helping your brain develop a natural rhythm.

designated rest days: choose specific days (i recommend wednesdays and sundays) where studying is completely off-limits. use these days for hobby exploration, friend dates, or simply existing without academic pressure. treat these as non-negotiable appointments with yourself.

25-minute study chunks: this isn't just regular pomodoro - i recommend theming each chunk (like "active recall," "concept mapping," or "question creation") and using different colored lights or scents for each theme. this helps your brain compartmentalize different types of learning.

joy breaks between subjects: schedule 10-15 minute "joy snippets" between different subjects. during these breaks, do something that brings pure happiness - dance to one song, water your plants, draw a tiny doodle, or write one page in your journal. these act as palate cleansers for your brain.

time blocking vs. to-do lists: instead of overwhelming lists, create time "containers" for different activities. color-code these blocks and leave intentional buffer zones between them. i use a special system: pink blocks for challenging subjects, blue for review, and lavender for creative work. i recommend using notion calendar or google calendar if you prefer digital planning.

environment refresh (expanded guide):

rearrange study space: shift your desk position according to natural light patterns. create different zones for different activities - a reading nook, a writing station, and a review corner. this helps your brain associate specific spaces with specific tasks.

declutter with intention: sort materials by energy level required - keep high-energy tasks at eye level, calming activities in lower drawers. use the "touch it once" rule: every item should have a designated home. implement a "one in, one out" policy for study materials.

living elements: choose plants that purify air (like snake plants or peace lilies). position them at your periphery vision points. bonus tip: name your plants and talk to them about what you're studying - it sounds silly but it helps with information retention!

location rotation: map out 5-7 different study spots with different energy levels. libraries for deep focus, cafes for light review, parks for creative thinking. rotate through them based on your energy levels and study needs. this is so fun!!! i imagine i live in stars hollow when i do this <333

cozy corner creation: design a specific "burnout recovery station" with comfort items: soft blankets, inspiration cards, comfort snacks, and a gratitude journal. this becomes your safe space when overwhelm hits.

mindset shifts (detailed approach):

language transformation: create a personal dictionary replacing pressure words with gentle alternatives. instead of "deadline" use "timeline," instead of "must complete" use "choose to explore." keep this list visible during study sessions.

progress celebration ritual: end each study session by writing one small win on a pretty note card. collect these in a "victory jar." when burnout hits, reading through these becomes a powerful reminder of your capability.

self-compassion practice: develop a "study self-care menu" with different options for different situations. categorize them by time needed: 5-minute resets, 15-minute refreshers, and 30-minute renewals. include both active and passive options.

expectation recalibration: use the "reality check journal" method - write down your expectations, then create three different versions: ideal scenario, acceptable outcome, and minimum viable progress. this helps break perfectionist patterns.

grade perspective shift: create a "whole life pie chart" showing all aspects of your identity beyond academics. update this monthly to maintain perspective. keep it visible during study sessions as a reminder of your multi-faceted existence.

⋆｡°✩ advanced burnout prevention toolkit ⋆｡°✩

emotional regulation techniques: ↳ create a "feelings first" check-in system ↳ develop personal stress signals recognition ↳ implement energy tracking methods ↳ practice boundary setting scripts ↳ maintain an academic emotion diary

physical wellbeing integration: ↳ design movement + snack breaks between studies ↳ create subject-specific stretching routines ↳ implement desk yoga sequences ↳ practice eye strain prevention exercises ↳ develop study-friendly hydration systems

social support cultivation: ↳ build a study buddy network ↳ create accountability partnerships ↳ schedule regular check-in calls ↳ join study-focused communities ↳ develop support circle protocols

academic burnout isn't a reflection of your capabilities or worth. it's simply a sign that you need to adjust your approach and care for yourself differently. take these suggestions slowly, implementing what feels right for you.

sending you the gentlest hugs and healing energy. remember that this phase will pass, and you'll emerge stronger and wiser. feel free to message me anytime if you need more specific advice or just want to talk.

with warmth and care, mindy ♡

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

L Lawliet x Reader pt. 16: the Billionaire and the Prostitute

Guys, I've gotta stop posting early before you get used to it XD I've just been so excited to release recent chapters! Anyway, enjoy the midweek mini!

you confused him. You confused him immensely.

Sometimes, you were vicious. Like the other night, when you called. Sometimes, you were cordial, friendly even, like when he came over.

Perhaps it was an issue of inhibition. The more you lacked, the more honest you were. It made sense, it was linear.

But then...you told him how much you disliked him after he told you he loved you. So perhaps not.

Whatever it was, it confused you too, because you called him again in the evening.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I saw I called you the other day...um, do you remember what I said?"

"...you said you were drinking wine."

"I was, yeah, uh...sorry. about that."

"It's not a problem."

"Is that all I said?"

"It was a short call."

"Yeah...okay, well, bye."

He didn't like lying to you. So he didn't.

He set the phone down, and continues his work. All he wanted now was your fingers in his hair. Your laughter in his ear. Like when he came over. You were sweet, you giggled and smiled at him. He felt he was making good progress with you, that maybe, you would be friends with him again. He could live with that. You, friendly; him, enamored.

Speaking of coming over, it seems you don't do very much investigating around your house. He was worried you might find those wiretaps and scold him for his actions, but the one under the counter, by far the most obvious, was exactly as it was placed.

Don't get it wrong, it was only a precaution, only activated and recording for extremely loud noises or unauthorized entry. Well, the cameras were always working, but that was only to record proper evidence in the event of a break-in or attack. He never looked at them. It was harmless. Security.

His phone dinged once more. Busy today.

transaction complete. ¥50000 moved to account #002546.

he flipped it open with two fingers, and read the message across the screen.

Ah, the landlord.

Nothing to worry about, then.

[spirallingintothevoid71]

It was a mistake following @brattymeanprincess into the kitchen that night when she beckoned me.

A mistake listening to her hypnotic words.

She told me how she'd noticed me staring whenever she wore pantyhose.

Or whenever she wore heels. Especially when she dangled them.

My eyes snapped down for a moment, then back up. I started to deny it. After all, I had a girlfriend, she had a boyfriend.

But she stopped me cold, placing a hand flat on my chest, and a finger on my lips.

"Shhh...," she said quietly, staring into my eyes. "I know. I understand."

I shivered.

Then she leaned in so close I could feel her breath on my ear, and started whispering.

Telling me all the things she wanted to do to me.

Telling me all the things she was going to do to me.

Telling me all the things she was going to make me do.

With everyone else just one room away.

I whimpered.

I tried to move away, but her hand may as well have been an anchor, holding me in place.

She told me I wouldn't be able to stop thinking of her words. That I wouldn't be able to stop thinking of her. That she was in my thoughts, now. That she was my thoughts now.

And that it would only get worse.

Until I surrendered. Until I went running to her. Until I begged her to make her words my reality. But that she wouldn't do anything until I was on my knees.

I heard someone calling my name from the other room. But I couldn't speak, couldn't move. My breath felt ragged.

And then she whispered the words that broke me.

"You know you want it, daddy," she said, sliding the hand that had been on my chest between my legs, gently squeezing.

I should have taken that opportunity to run. Instead, I moaned, my hips thrusting into her.

The call from the other room became more urgent. She giggled and walked away.

I lasted a week.

Every day, she would send me a text. Reminding of all the things she'd said. Reminding me she expected me on my knees. Always ending it with, "You're mine now, daddy."

I deleted the first one.

I should have blocked her. I told myself that if I ignored her, it would stop.

It didn't.

The next day it happened again.

I didn't delete it.

I found myself constantly thinking of her. Constantly distracted. By midweek, I was checking my phone. Already aroused before her message came in.

By late week, it changed. She added in questions. Asking if I was thinking of her. Asking if was dreaming of her. Asking if I was... touching.

And always ending the same way.

On Saturday, there was a new last line. Four simple, mind numbing words.

"Come to me, daddy."

I don't really remember going. It was mostly a blur. One moment I was staring at my phone, the next I was standing before her, shivering as she placed her hand on my chest, her finger on my lips.

I whimpered, but stood still. She stared in my eyes, repeating her words as she slowly undressed me, releasing the pressure in my jeans. She led me to her bedroom, and with the lightest touch on my shoulder, said, "Kneel for your princess."

I knelt, and whimpered.

Then she climbed onto the bed, looked back at me, and said again...

"You're mine now, daddy."

My mind blanked.

I was hers.

I spiraled into the void.

[kayleightarot]

The week of February 17-21 We start the week with Counsel, Wisdom, Honour The Hierophant represents ancient wisdom, tradition, & higher learning. It speaks to a need to use spiritual understanding, & wisdom to perceive the world, & review the core tenets of your beliefs- whether they be academic or spiritual. He can also herald a traditional ceremony/contract.

You may be making decisions that are removed from your core beliefs, or, you are required to make a decision “for the greater good” instead of yourself. Stay true to your nature; review the key issues to ensure you are making decisions that are right for you & everyone involved.

💚 Likely a project or situation is getting bogged down in ideas and losing focus. Strip it down to the bare necessities and remember your original goal 💙 If you are going on a first date, bring flowers, if you are going to propose, get down on one knee…consider it a nod to good old-fashioned romance, and tradition 🧡 Whether you have strayed from your core beliefs, got lost “thinking outside the box”, or are just having a structured kind of day, success lies in tradition and pragmatism, today so, go “old school”

MIDWEEK, we have messages of News, Creativity, New Opportunities Cards of Cups usually denote the 'higher graces' & this knight’s graces are creativity, & intuition. He brings you good news regarding your path, & guidance to the successful completion of your goals; likely regarding a creative project or love.

Victory lies in creativity & savvy. Seek novel paths to accomplish your goals. Pay attention to signs & unexpected offers that make you see things differently; these are serendipitous messages from the Universe. This may also be an ideal time to explore new realms of spiritual growth.

💚 Work projects are likely to move ahead positively & quickly now. Be proud of your contributions & accomplishments but gracious when accepting accolades for them 💙 Be open to exploring your feelings today for this card indicates positive messages, being swept off your feet, & for some, commitment/marriage 🧡 Remain honest, & faithful to your cause, & you will soon achieve your desired & deserved end

We approach the weekend with Determination, Recklessness, Passion Knights often herald a change of direction or an infusion of transformative energy. This Knight brings a boost in your confidence, your need to conquer or achieve, &a desire for change. Audacious, energetic, & a determined leader, he is an individual of spontaneity, daring, & passion. He appears when you have been asking the Universe for change. You wished to be out of your 'rut' & now your desire will be achieved in an unexpected way.

An opportunity for a spontaneous decision may lead you to make a long journey or a permanent relocation. They will both have their challenges but so does staying put. The Knight tells you it’s a good time to go with your intuition so make the decision your instincts tell you is right.

💚 You may get unexpected positive feedback from management today - you are right to feel proud of your accomplishments. 💚 If you are waiting for results from an interview or job prospect you are likely to find the position is better than you hoped & is yours 💙 If you are in a relationship, today is a good day for listening to your partner. Be spontaneous with your time and passionate in your expression; make time to just ‘Be’ together 🧡 Whether your change today is travel, moving, changing your outlook, or simply relocating your desk, remember that the Universe has chosen to throw you a little surprise party & is giving you what you asked for. “Hang onto your hat”, embrace it, & enjoy! Gus an ath thuras (Until next time), darlings Go, Do, Be. Peace out

[movingmusically]

What Are Friends For? - Chapter 2

Word Count: 1.9k

Masterlist

I should have known something was up the second I walked into the café and didn’t see Callum.

He’d been the one to invite me to brunch—messaging midweek like it was an afterthought. “You still on for Sunday? Brunch? Standard.” No mention of who else was coming, but that was typical. Callum had a rotating cast of friends and acquaintances; you never really knew who’d show up until you got there.

But when I stepped inside and scanned the room, the only familiar face I saw was Austin’s.

Seated at a corner table, he looked effortlessly put together in a worn grey jacket over a soft white t-shirt, fingers wrapped around a mug of coffee. He was half-glancing at his phone, brow furrowed like he was considering whether to send a text.

Then he looked up, caught sight of me, and whatever uncertainty had been there disappeared.

A small, knowing smile pulled at his lips.

I narrowed my eyes.

Oh. Oh.

I crossed the café, slipping into the chair opposite him. “Where’s Callum?”

Austin exhaled a quiet laugh, setting his phone down. “Uh, funny story.”

I folded my arms, waiting.

“He texted me saying he was running late. Something about an audition.”

I frowned. “He never mentioned anything—what’s he auditioning for?”

Austin shrugged. “No idea. But I have a theory.”

“Oh?”

A pause. A smirk. “He’s not coming.”

I groaned, scrubbing a hand over my face. “That idiot.”

Austin chuckled. “Yeah.” He took a sip of his coffee, then added, “You can bail if you want. I won’t be offended.”

I dropped my hand, studying him. He seemed genuine enough—like he was giving me an out, no pressure.

But something about the easy way he sat there, coffee in hand, no sign of frustration at Callum’s antics, told me he’d already figured out I wouldn’t leave.

I sighed, shaking my head. “No point. I’m already here.”

He grinned. “That’s what I figured.”

We gave Callum the benefit of the doubt—for about ten minutes.

Austin ordered me a coffee while I sent increasingly passive-aggressive texts. Where are you? → How late is late? → I swear to God, if this is a setup—

No reply. Just a Read at 10:21 AM.

Austin smirked when he saw my expression. “Anything?”

“He left me on read,” I muttered.

“Classic.”

I sighed, flipping my phone face-down. “Might as well order, then.”

Austin leaned back in his chair, amusement still tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What do you usually get?”

I skimmed the menu, debating, before settling on something with a bit of everything—toast, eggs, avocado, mushrooms.

Austin glanced over at my plate when it arrived, eyebrows lifting slightly.

I raised a brow. “What?”

He hesitated, watching as I ate a bite of toast, then moved to the eggs, then the mushrooms—methodically working my way around the plate before starting the cycle again.

“You eat in a pattern,” he observed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I frowned. “No, I don’t.”

“You do.” He nodded at my plate. “You’re going in a loop.”

I glanced down, realising he was right.

I shrugged. “It makes sense.”

Austin huffed a quiet laugh before picking up his own fork.

And that’s when I noticed his approach—stacking a bit of everything onto each bite like some kind of culinary architect.

I wrinkled my nose. “What is that?”

“What?”

“You’re layering.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.” He gestured at his fork. “You get a little of everything at once.”

I pulled a face. “So if you had a full English, you’d have eggs, sausage, tomato, beans, and bacon all at once?”

He smirked. “That’s the ideal bite.”

“No, the ideal bite is tasting things separately,” I argued. “You can’t just throw it all in your mouth and hope for the best.”

Austin shook his head, laughing. “I think we have very different approaches to food.”

“You think?”

Still grinning, he tilted his knife toward me. “So, how’s your perfectly structured breakfast?”

“Brilliant,” I deadpanned.

The food disappeared quickly, conversation flowing surprisingly easily.

“So, how are you finding London?” I asked at one point.

Austin wiped his mouth with a napkin, considering. “I like it. It’s got a good energy.”

“That’s vague,” I teased.

He smiled. “Alright—it's big but not overwhelming. People are polite, but not too polite.”

I snorted. “That means rude.”

“Not rude,” he corrected, smirking. “Just… blunt.”

I grinned. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

He took another sip of coffee, then added, “I’m trying something new this time around, though.”

I tilted my head. “Like what?”

“Pottery.”

That threw me. “Pottery?”

He chuckled at my expression. “Yeah.” He leaned back slightly, fingers still curled around his mug. “Tom Hanks told me once that I should pick up a new hobby every time I work on a film. Said it helps get you out of your head on days off.”

“That’s actually great advice.”

“Right?” Austin nodded. “I figured I’d try it. Something different.”

I considered. “Do you even have the patience for pottery?”

He huffed a laugh. “Guess I’ll find out.”

By the time we finished eating, I’d almost forgotten Callum was supposed to be there.

I checked my phone one last time (still nothing), then stretched, glancing toward the street. “I was gonna stop by a bookshop before heading home.”

Austin’s eyes lit with interest. “What kind?”

I shrugged. “Independent place around the corner. I need to pick up something for my class.”

He nodded, setting down his napkin. “Mind if I tag along?”

A small flicker of surprise went through me. “You want to go to a bookshop?”

“Why not?” He smirked slightly, as if amused by my reaction. “Unless you’d rather go alone?”

I hesitated for half a second, then shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I need to get a few things actually.”

He raised a brow. “Oh?”

“Some WWII novels,” I said. “I, uh… I’ve been trying to write something based on my Nan’s stories. Thought it might help.”

Austin’s expression shifted slightly, like that piqued his interest.

He nodded, thoughtful. “That’s really cool.”

I exhaled, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. “Well, it’s just for me, really. No one’s read it or anything.”

Austin didn’t press, just nodded. “Still. I’d love to hear about it sometime.”

I wasn’t sure why that made my stomach flip.

I shook it off, nudging my bag onto my shoulder. “Come on, then.”

The bookshop was tucked away on a quiet street, the kind of place you could easily miss if you weren’t looking for it. A little bell chimed as we stepped inside, the air instantly shifting—warm and still, carrying the faint scent of paper and ink.

Austin glanced around with quiet appreciation. “I like it already.”

I smiled. “It’s a good one. Small, but they always have what I need.”

I led the way towards the children’s section, scanning the shelves for something engaging but not too complicated for my Year Fours. Austin trailed beside me, hands in his pockets, eyes moving over the spines like he was cataloguing the titles.

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

“A class read. Something fun but not too silly.” I skimmed the shelves before pulling out a book. The Twits. “Roald Dahl always works.”

Austin tilted his head, smiling slightly. “Yeah?”

“Kids love a bit of mischief. And the way Dahl describes food? Disgusting, but genius. Always a hit.”

He grinned. “Noted.”

I tucked the book under my arm, then hesitated only briefly before steering us towards the historical fiction section. Austin followed without comment, his gaze flicking over the titles as I ran my fingers along the spines.

“So,” he said after a moment, “you’re writing something?”

I stiffened slightly, surprised he was bringing it up so soon.

“Well… yeah,” I admitted. “Sort of.”

Austin nodded, waiting.

I exhaled, tracing a book cover absentmindedly. “It’s based on my Nan’s stories. Just something I started a while ago. Nothing serious.”

He hummed, considering that. “What’s it about?”

I hesitated, feeling oddly vulnerable.

“Kind of a fictionalised version of her life,” I said finally. “She grew up in London during the Blitz. I guess I wanted to capture what that must’ve been like.”

Austin’s expression softened. “That’s incredible.”

I shrugged, shifting the book in my hands. “It’s just for me, really.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing.”

I swallowed, glancing up at him. He wasn’t just saying it to be polite—he meant it.

Before I could think too much about that, I pulled a couple of books from the shelf, turning them over in my hands. The Night Watch by Sarah Waters and All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. Both well-reviewed, but I hadn’t read either.

Austin leaned in slightly, scanning the covers. “Good picks?”

“I think so,” I admitted. “Haven’t read them before.”

He reached past me, plucking another from the shelf—Suite Française by Irène Némirovsky. He flipped it over, scanning the blurb.

“This one’s supposed to be great,” he said, handing it to me.

I raised a brow. “You read historical fiction?”

“Not much,” he admitted. “But my mom did. She loved this one.”

I glanced down at the book, then added it to my pile. “Alright. Sold.”

Austin smirked. “Glad I could help.”

The shop was quiet as we paid, the bookseller moving at a leisurely pace.

Austin stepped aside to let me go first, then watched as I placed my books on the counter. I tried not to feel too self-conscious about it, but there was something about him standing so close, about the way he kept glancing at my selections, that made the air feel slightly different.

When it was his turn, he grabbed a book from a nearby display and set it on the counter.

I glanced over. Dune.

I raised a brow. “Bit of light reading?”

Austin smirked. “I want to be in the next one.”

That caught me off guard. “Wait, really?”

He nodded. “They’re making Dune: Part Two. Casting soon, I think.”

I looked at him, impressed. “So you’re preparing in advance?”

“More like hoping for the best.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “But yeah, figured I should read it properly before throwing my name in.”

I hummed, nodding approvingly. “Smart. That’s dedication.”

He shrugged, but I could tell the idea meant something to him.

The bookseller rang up our purchases, sliding them into paper bags. I reached for mine just as Austin reached for his, our hands brushing briefly.

A small thing. Barely anything.

But I felt it.

I stepped back, clearing my throat. “Right. I should probably head home.”

Austin nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

We stepped outside, the street cooler than before, the sky shifting towards a softer grey.

Austin glanced at me. “This was nice.”

I tilted my head. “The bookshop or brunch?”

He smiled. “Both.”

I hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Yeah. It was.”

We lingered for a moment, neither of us quite moving.

Then, finally, Austin exhaled. “Well. I’ll see you around, Ange.”

He said my name like he’d been waiting to say it.

I swallowed. “See you around, Butler.”

He smirked slightly, then turned and walked off down the street, leaving me standing there with a bag full of books and an odd feeling in my chest.

I shook it off, adjusting my bag on my shoulder before heading home.

Taglist:

@slowsweetlove @thefallofthedamned @saturnsdaughtr @bellesdreamyprofile

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 05

Words: 4k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

Warnings for this chapter: panic attacks

Ac: _3aem

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug

Authors notes: thank you for still supporting this story and for always like and leaving feedback and lovely messages ❤️

Materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

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Haibara's words hit you like a bucket of cold water.

“You also play on the basketball team?” You said with surprise.

Haibara laughed. “Yeah, I´m not as good as my seniors, Gojo and Geto, but I’m also on the team.”

“So obviously…” You sighed. “It’s impossible for us to change our shifts that day right?”

“I’m afraid so.” You looked down, you were really sad. “You have something important that day?”

You shook your head. “I got invited to the match and I wanted to go, but it’s okay! It doesn’t matter if we can’t change shifts.” You smiled.

“You got invited to the match?” He exclaimed and you nobbed in surprise. “I will talk with my grandma, I don't think she will mind if we close the store for one afternoon. Or maybe my sister can come…” He mentioned.

“Please Haibara, there is no need.” You said with worry.

It wasn't necessary for him to do that, there would be other chances to attend a game. Although you were feeling a bit sad for missing out, it wasn't catastrophic. Whether or not you attended didn't hold significant weight. Haibara had gone through the trouble of arranging it all for you, solely because you harbored a desire to fulfill Gojo's request. Goodness, you felt foolish.

“My grandma won’t mind, don’t worry. She adores you and she adores me.” He joked. “Besides it’s just a day, nothing will happen. Once she finds out that is to go to her dear grandson’s basketball match, she might even show up there herself.” He laughed. “Although I know you won’t be watching me.”

“I will also cheer for you Haibara.” You planted your hands on the table and looked at him seriously. “You’re my friend after all, right?”

“You consider me your friend?”

“Of course!”

Haibara shouted your name and hugged you tightly. “You are my friend too. I will present to you my friends from the team, although you already know a few of them.”

“Alright.” You grinned.

Haibara bid you farewell and exited the grocery store. Now you understood why he was always in a hurry; it was for his basketball practices. Retrieving your cell phone from your pocket, you messaged Kyoko that it were most likely going to the match too. The match was scheduled for Friday, and today being Wednesday, you wished you had discussed it with Haibara earlier, but time had been scarce for a calm conversation.

Despite the usual midweek routine, Gojo remained his typical self, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that he was concealing something behind his playful smile. Though hesitant to inquire, you continued studying, occasionally seeking clarification from him on various matters that crossed your mind during your free moments together.

You spent the afternoon attending to customers until Kyoko arrived; that day, she had promised to pick you up to go home together. You closed the shop, and Kyoko took hold of your arm to draw you closer as you walked towards home.

“You won't believe this.” She smiled, showing her teeth and squinting her eyes. You turned your head to look at her. “Suguru gave me his jersey; he wants me to wear it in the game.” She said with excitement.

“Really?” You said in amazement, to which she nodded eagerly. “Wow, Kyoko, are you two not officially dating yet?”

Kyoko shook her head. “Not yet, but I think we're heading in the right direction.” She sighed and whispered your name. “Do you think it can work out this time?”

“Yes.” You said firmly. “Suguru is not like the jerk…” You left the sentence hanging, recalling how Kyoko felt talking about that. “You know. The times I see you both, you seem genuinely happy, and Kyoko, believe me, the way Suguru looks at you is like the gaze of a romantic movie protagonist.”

When you met Kyoko, she was dating a guy whose name filled you with disgust. They had been together before entering high school. Kyoko was truly in love, while he was a complete jerk who was capable of cheating on her with more than five girls in just one month.

You still remember Kyoko's inconsolable crying when she found out, lamenting whether she wasn't enough for that pig. You recall seeing her light dim and her confidence shattered. That's why when you saw him on campus, you couldn't help but beat him up; at that moment, you didn't care about the possibility of being expelled or reprimanded, you were tired of seeing your best friend cry in corners because of that pig.

Fortunately, Kyoko moved forward, and that jerk transferred to another college. Since then, Kyoko had regained her confidence and her radiance; you only hoped and wished that Suguru Geto wouldn't do anything like that to her, not even close, or else you would do what you did back then all over again.

Both of you arrived at Kyoko’s home and greeted her parents, who were waiting for you to eat dinner. At that moment, you felt the need to cry but hold it back all together, you didn’t like crying in front of people.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

In the blink of an eye, game day arrived, and Kyoko and you headed to where it would be held. There were quite a few university students, including professors. But it wasn't surprising after all, your basketball team was quite famous.

You sat next to Kyoko on the bench, positioned not too far from the playground, offering an optimal view of the players. It seemed likely they could spot you too. Kyoko brimmed with excitement for the match, donning the t-shirt Suguru had gifted her, emblazoned with his name and number. To an outsider, it might seem as though they were already a couple, but Kyoko insisted they were merely in the process of getting to know each other.

You glanced around, taking in the scene. It was your first attendance at one of the college basketball team's games. Yet, you were keenly aware that almost the entire college turned out for these matches due to their exceptional prowess. They rarely suffered defeat.

Apparently the team they would face that day was from Kyoto college, the only thing you knew was what Kyoko had told you and it seemed last year they faced each other in a final or something like that, the truth is you had not understood very well. Nonetheless, your team won, although with some difficulty.

You noticed how Kyoko grabbed your hand and rested his head on your shoulder, while she raised and lowered her leg nervously.

“Kyoko, relax.” You tried to calm her down. “They will probably win.”

“I’m not nervous for the match. Suguru said he wanted to talk with me after the match.”

You slightly opened your mouth in surprise. “Oh… maybe it’s the day Kyoko!”

“Maybe!” She smiled. “But still I’m really nervous.”

“It will be fine.” You tried to calm her.

The whistle signaling the start of the game brought you back to where you were. Kyoko squeezed your hand tightly, her eyes fixed on Suguru Geto. On the other hand, you watched the game, paying attention to most players. Haibara was among them, visibly happy to be there. There was also the blond guy you had seen with Haibara outside the store that time – what was his name? Nanamin? Yes, that might be it.

But without a doubt, you were consciously avoiding fixing your eyes on a white-haired guy. Though it was relatively impossible as he stood out on his own, and the entire venue went crazy whenever he touched the ball.

He was good, or so you thought, considering your limited knowledge of basketball. Yet, the way he moved, handled the ball, and shot was exquisite to watch.

Oh God! What are you thinking?

You shook your head to dispel those thoughts, trying to avoid looking at him. Your foolish mind led you to think things you shouldn't.

You shifted your gaze to the scoreboard – 34-27 in favor of Tokyo. You were winning.

The game continued, intensifying with each passing moment, causing the crowd to become even more excited in the action.

During one of the timeouts, as Kyoko commented on how handsome Suguru looked in his uniform and sighed, your eyes drifted across the team, catching the direct gaze of Gojo's blue eyes.

A pang in your heart made you immediately turn your head away. His gaze had been soft and warm, causing you to feel nervous, even from five meters away.

Feeling flustered by the unexpected encounter, you tried to focus on Kyoko's words, but the image of Gojo's penetrating gaze lingered in your mind. The intensity of his eyes seemed to convey a message you couldn't decipher, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you.

As the timeout ended and the game resumed, you found it difficult to shake off the lingering effect of Gojo's gaze.

With just a few minutes left for the game to end, both teams were tied. You and Kyoko gripped each other's hands, eagerly awaiting a decisive move.

The ball moved swiftly between players. Eventually, it landed in Suguru's hands. Realizing the dwindling time, he swiftly passed it to Gojo. Could he make the shot from that distance?

The court fell into silence as Gojo launched the ball towards the basket. Your breath caught as you followed the ball's trajectory – one spin, then another. When the buzzer sounded, the ball found its mark.

The arena erupted in cheers and applause, celebrating the victory of the University of Tokyo. You and Kyoko embraced, jumping with joy.

Your university had won.

“Can you believe we won? Suguru was incredible out there!” Kyoko screamed, jumping on her place.

You nodded, but your gaze involuntarily wandered towards Gojo, who was now surrounded by his teammates.

“What's on your mind? You seem a bit distracted.”

You hesitated before replying, “I... noticed something during the game.”

Kyoko raised an eyebrow. “What? The handsome players?”

You chuckled nervously, “No, it's just... Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” You shook your head.

“You sure?”

You nodded, trying to brush it off, but the memory of Gojo's gaze lingered, leaving you with a sense of intrigue amid the celebration.

Both of you stood up and headed outside; Kyoko needed to talk to Suguru before you went home. You walked to the exit where the players were leaving and waited. A smile spread across your face as you saw Suguru approaching you both.

“There is your man.” You gave her a light elbow nudge, and she blushed. “Go on. Then you have to fill me in on everything.” You warned her.

Kyoko started walking and smiled at you. “You know I will.”

You watched as your best friend approached Suguru and congratulated him on the victory. If it weren't for the fact that it was real life, you'd think you were watching a romantic movie from the '90s, the way Suguru had taken your best friend's hand and led them away from the crowd. You could almost vomit rainbows at that moment.

You pulled out your phone from your bag and checked the time, 21:45. It was still early.

“You came.” You heard a voice behind you. You knew whose voice it was; you could recognize it almost anywhere.

The voice of the person you had been trying to avoid making eye contact with all night, and the same voice that had now caused your heart to beat a little faster. Would it beat even faster if you looked into his eyes?

“Well…” You turned to face him; he still had his uniform on, and his hair was wet. Damn. “You invited me to the game, didn't you? It was the least I could do for my private tutor and project partner.”

Gojo simply smiled at you. “We have some soda if you want.” He pointed to where the rest of the players were.

You shook your head. “I'm good, but thanks.” You played with your hands and looked at the ground; for the first time, you felt embarrassed about what you were about to say. “You played really well, Gojo. It was very... very good. You were good, I guess.”

“Birdie…” You lifted your gaze and realized he was incredibly close to you again. “Are you free now?”

“Um…” You hesitated. You were, but... “I'm waiting for Kyoko.”

Gojo cleared his throat and grinned. “Then you're free. Those two lovebirds will take a while.” Gojo stood next to you and took hold of your arm. “Come on, I want to take you somewhere.”

“Wait, Gojo.” You tried to free yourself from his grip. “Are you going like this?” You looked him up and down.

“Yes, why?” He checked himself. “This is my other uniform, and I've showered.”

“Oh.” You nodded. "I thought..."

"You thought I'd take you around all sweaty?" You averted your gaze, avoiding his. "You can see me sweaty under different circumstances..."

You pulled away from his grip and looked at him with a furrowed brow. “No, thanks.”

“I meant during basketball practice.” He teased you. “You thought wrong.” And you couldn't help but blush.

Gojo grabbed your arm and practically dragged you to the parking lot. You could feel people's gaze on you, which wasn't hard considering Gojo drew too much attention, much to your dismay. Most looks were curious, although many would have buried you alive if they could.

Gojo stopped in front of the black car he had taken you in before. You didn't know much about cars, but you were sure it was expensive. He let go of your arm and opened the trunk, searching for something. Then he pulled out a hoodie and handed it to you, and you frowned at him.

“You've been shivering since we left the venue.” He said, offering it again. “It might be colder where we're going.”

“Thanks... I guess.” You whispered as you took the hoodie. “But I don't understand why you want to take me somewhere. Kyoko will be looking for me.” You protested.

“I already told Suguru, I'm sure he's told Kyoko. So relax.” He shrugged.

“I still don't understand why you want to take me somewhere.” You sighed.

“Simply because I want to, birdie.” He put his hands on his hips. “I… I'd like to show you something.”

“Gojo, if you try anything, even the slightest thing, I won't hesitate with you.” You looked him in the eyes.

“I know, and I won't do anything you don't want.” He smiled. “Shall we go now?”

“Yeah…” You looked carefully at his face, noticing how the wounds were almost gone. “Your wounds… you treated them?” Gojo nodded, touching his face a little bit. “That’s good, I’m glad.”

“Oh birdie, is worried about me.” Gojo teased you.

You rolled your eyes and said nothing. Because in fact a part of you was worried about him but saying it out loud didn’t feel right.

You put on the hoodie he gave you, it was warm, and Gojo's scent filled your nostrils. It was too big for you, but it covered your thighs a bit. You got into Gojo's car and fastened your seatbelt.

Before Gojo got in too, you quickly sent a message to Kyoko.

You to Kyoko ☀️

If anything happens to me, it was Gojo.

I love you

Gojo hopped into the driver's seat, starting the car with a confident grin. As he drove away, Gojo seemed oddly focused on the road, a stark contrast to his usual carefree demeanor.

You watched outside the window and observed the city lights were starting to fade, distancing yourselves from the bustling Tokyo and entering a quieter place. That was the feeling as you looked through the window of Gojo's car.

The soft lights of fireflies illuminated the road. Gojo kept his eyes on the road, and the silence in the car wasn't awkward. In fact, you didn't feel uncomfortable being with him. It's true that he annoyed you, and often you couldn't stand him, but discomfort wasn't present.

Admitting it aloud was a challenge, but slowly, Satoru Gojo was earning your appreciation, even though you always proceeded with caution, carefully observing his actions.

It had been 30 minutes since you got into Gojo's car when the speed began to decrease; it seemed you had arrived at the place. A strange sensation took hold of you; you didn't know what it was, but it was there.

You got out of the car, just like Gojo, and waited for him to reach your side.

“We have to walk a bit, but I swear it'll be worth it.” He smiled and started walking ahead of you.

You didn't say anything and simply followed him; Gojo walked with determination and confidence in every step he took, regardless of the fact that the only light available was from the flashlights on your phones.

“I used to come here when I was little.” He broke the silence. “And then when I got older too, it helped me clear my mind and relax.” He looked over his shoulder at you and smiled.

You continued walking until you finally reached the place. The moon was reflected in the crystal-clear water of the lake, displaying a beautiful view.

“Tara!” Gojo sang, spreading his arms and smiling. “It's incredible that a place like this exists near Tokyo; it's wonderful.”

You wanted to say yes, it was, but that feeling in your stomach was back, and your head was throbbing.

“Birdie…?” You noticed Gojo looking at you with a concerned expression on his face.

“I’m tired…” You said. “Sorry…”

“No, don't be…” He shook his head. “Why don’t we go and sit over there?” He pointed at a bench near the lake.

You nodded and started walking towards the bench. You didn’t quite know what got into you but it was an uncomfortable sensation that wanted to break out.

Gojo sat next to you and you noticed how he started to play with his fingers. Was he nervous?

“Gojo…” You broke the silence.

“I’m sorry.” He cut you. “I’m sorry, you told me you didn’t feel like coming and still I brought you here, without caring. You probably wanted to get home and rest. Shit…” He held his head between his hands. “You are always working so hard and already came to see the match although you had to work and here I’m bringing you here when you are tired.”

You looked at him attentively; it wasn't necessary for him to react like this. He didn't need to worry so much about you.

“Gojo.” You whispered, gently touching his shoulder. “It's okay, don't worry. I just started getting a headache.”

He removed his hands from his head and looked at you before returning his gaze to the lake.

“I always come here when I need to clear my head.” He whispered. “When classes get too much or after training.”

Who would've thought, the great Satoru Gojo would be overwhelmed. You never would've been able to tell.

“Lately, I've been coming here too often, to be honest.” He whispered.

“Are classes getting to you?” You asked out of curiosity.

“Not exactly, it's more family problems.”

“Oh... I understand.”

“You know, when I was a kid, I used to sneak out and come here.” He smiled and looked at you. “When my parents scolded me or we argued, I'd grab my bike and come here.”

“You came here as a child alone?" You said in surprise, the place was a bit far away for a kid to come on their own.

“Yeah, they didn't care.” He said with a sad smile.

“Gojo…” You said concern, Gojo was opening to you in a way you wouldn’t have thought he would.

“But it's okay, I could relax here, and one day, I met someone.” He turned to look at you with a smile.

Gojo continued talking but you struggled to maintain focus, the intensity of the memories threatening to overwhelm you. His lips moved, forming words you couldn't decipher over the deafening roar in your ears.

A sharp pain shot through your head, causing you to wince and clutch at your temples. It felt like your skull was being crushed in a vice, the pressure unbearable. Breathing became a struggle, each inhale feeling like a futile attempt to fill your lungs with air.

The memories flooded back with relentless force, each fragment adding to the torment. You remembered the bright sunshine glinting off the surface of the lake, the sound of your mother's voice calling your name.

And then, the screech of tires, the sickening crunch of metal, the scream of terror that ripped through the air. You remembered the impact, the sensation of being thrown, the blinding pain as your body collided with something hard and unforgiving.

But amidst the chaos and confusion, one image stood out with stark clarity: your mother, her arms wrapped around you, shielding you from harm with her last breath.

Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to make sense of it all, the weight of grief and loss crushing you with its unbearable heaviness. You felt like you were drowning in a sea of sorrow, unable to find solid ground to anchor yourself.

“Birdie…” You could hear Gojo calling your nickname and your name.

You were having a panic attack?

“Are you okay?” Gojo's concerned voice broke through the haze, his hand reaching out to steady you.

You blinked, trying to focus on his face through the blur of tears and agony. It was all too much to bear, the weight of the past pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

“I... I…” Your words came out as a choked whisper, your voice trembling with the effort to contain the overwhelming pain.

Without another word, Gojo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a comforting embrace. In that moment, his presence was a lifeline amidst the storm of your shattered memories.

Gojo's arms held you warmly and tightly, as if he wanted to remove the pain you were currently feeling from your body and mind.

That's when you realized how shitty you had been. Satoru Gojo had cried hugging you and at that moment you had not been able to do anything for him, instead you stayed silent like the coward you were.

Gojo was the opposite of you, he was what you wanted to be, open, positive, energetic, sympathetic but you were far from it.

“Birdie?” His voice was gentle, filled with concern, as he steadied you.

You blinked back tears, not wanting Gojo to see you cry, and trying to find the words to express the turmoil inside. “I... I need…”

“It’s okay…” He whispered, still embracing you. “I think the best is to leave.”

You simply nodded. Gojo separated from you and stood up first, feeling the warmth you had felt previously disappear.

As you looked up, you saw Gojo's hand extended towards you. On another occasion, you would have rejected it and said something to him, but in that moment you just wanted to feel the calm and warmth you had experienced next to his body.

You grabbed Gojo's hand and walked in silence to the car. In a way, you were anxious and felt that if you got into the car after remembering what you had remembered, you might have another panic attack. But if you stayed at the lake, you didn't think you could be calm. Anyway, all you wanted at that moment was to get away from there.

“Birdie…” Gojo's gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts.

You looked at him and saw the sadness and concern in his face.

“I'm fine.” You forced a smile, knowing he didn't buy it when he held your gaze. “Really, how about you invite me to dinner?” You tried to change the subject. “I'm starving.” You touched your stomach.

Gojo's features relaxed for a moment and he nodded. “Okay…” He opened the car door. “Pick any place you want, it doesn't matter. I'll take you.”

You nodded with a smile.

The drive was quiet, the only sound was the hum of the radio. You stole glances at Gojo, noting the tension in his posture and the furrow of his brow. Despite your attempts to lighten the mood, you could tell that he was still worried about you.

You wanted to assure him that he didn’t have to worry about you.

Notes: if you want to be tagged, just comment below 🤗

Tagged: @lavender-hvze, @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke, @faetoraa , @hexipessimistic, @gojoful

[piastrixpole]

chapter eight

pairing: oscar piastri x carlos sainz

genre: written, love island au

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Daniel's sudden departure cast a long shadow over the villa, shifting its dynamic in ways that none of the islanders could have fully anticipated. The easy-going atmosphere they'd built over the past days now felt brittle, each of them acutely aware that eliminations were no longer a distant threat but a reality hanging over them.

The firepit conversations, once filled with banter and light-hearted teasing, became heavier. Who could they trust? Who was actually building something real, and who was coasting on connections that wouldn't survive the next re-coupling? It was hard to say.

Maxine, now officially single, bore the brunt of Daniel's departure. While she'd been quick to put on a brave face, the quiet moments when she thought no one was looking betrayed her. She laughed along with the others when Pierre joked about her now being "the most eligible bachelorette," but it was clear she was still processing what had happened.

For Oscar, the week felt like a lesson in how fleeting security in the villa could be. As much as he and Logan had grown closer—sharing stolen kisses on the terrace and whispered late-night conversations—it wasn't lost on him that alliances could shift in a heartbeat. And there was always the wildcard of new arrivals, ready to turn the villa upside down again.

Even Carlos, whose usual confidence seemed unshakable, had moments where he lingered near the edge of conversations, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful. "Losing Dan like that," he said one evening as they all sat by the pool, "makes you think about what you're really doing here. Like, who you actually want to stick with."

The producers, of course, weren't helping matters. There were whispers of an upcoming challenge that would test everyone's connections—or expose their lack of them. Even Fernando's impish smile during his occasional visits seemed more ominous than usual.

By midweek, the villa was buzzing with quiet speculation about who might be vulnerable in the next elimination. Oscar found himself caught between gratitude for Logan's steadying presence and a nagging awareness that nothing was guaranteed. The fallout from Daniel's departure had unsettled everyone, and as much as they tried to keep the mood light, the weight of the looming re-coupling was impossible to ignore.

Oscar caught Logan's hand one evening as they walked to the firepit. "This week's been a lot," he admitted softly.

She squeezed his fingers and smiled, though there was a flicker of unease in her eyes. "Tell me about it. But hey, at least we're in it together."

For now, that was enough. But Oscar couldn't help but wonder how long "together" could truly last in a place where everything—even relationships—seemed to be built on shifting sands.

Things really ramped up another notch though when Friday rolled around again. The morning sunlight bathed the villa's breakfast nook as the islanders gathered around the long table, bowls of cereal and cups of coffee scattered across its surface. Laughter and light chatter filled the space until Maxine's phone buzzed loudly against the wood, silencing the group instantly.

Maxine grabbed it, her face lighting up in mock dread as she read the message. "Oh, no. Islanders," she began, drawing out the word dramatically. "Tonight, two new bombshells will enter the villa. Get ready to welcome Fred and Jack. #NewArrivals #StepUpOrStepOut."

The table erupted into a mixture of groans, laughter, and exclamations.

"Oh, come on!" George threw his hands up, his spoon clattering back into his bowl. "We just started finding a groove!"

"Speak for yourself," Francisca said, arching a brow as she reached for her coffee. "I think it's about time things got interesting again."

"Yeah, of course you do," Charlotte quipped, shaking her head. "You're still riding high from your bombshell debut."

"Well, it's a good thing they're coming in now," Pierre said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. "You know, before we all get too boring."

"Boring?" Alex repeated, throwing a grape at him. "Speak for yourself. Some of us were actually enjoying the peace."

Logan leaned toward Oscar, her voice low. "Peace? Has he met this villa?"

Oscar chuckled, but his mind was already whirring. Two new people meant two more threats to the balance they'd all just started to establish.

"So, who do we think they're here for?" Carmen asked, her tone edged with curiosity—and maybe just a little apprehension.

"Everyone," Francisca replied with a knowing smile. "That's what bombshells do. They don't come in to make friends."

"You sound like you've been doing the producer interviews again," George joked, earning a ripple of laughter.

The table grew quiet for a moment, the reality of what was coming sinking in.

"They're probably going to go for the strongest couples," Carmen said thoughtfully. "That's what they always do—to see if they can break them up."

"Well, let them try," Logan said firmly, her eyes meeting Oscar's.

Oscar felt a flicker of reassurance at her words, but it didn't stop the small knot of nerves tightening in his stomach.

"What do you think they're like?" Alex asked, breaking the tension.

"Fred sounds English," Charlotte said, drumming her fingers on the table. "Probably tall and ridiculously charming."

"And Jack?" Pierre chimed in.

"Definitely Australian," Francisca said, her smile widening. "I mean, the name alone."

"Great," Carlos muttered. "Two guys with accents. We're doomed."

"Coming from you? You're fine," Francisca teased, flicking a piece of toast at him. "You're Carlos. You'll charm them before they even finish introducing themselves."

"But what about everyone else?" Alex asked, grinning as he gestured around the table.

"Step up or step out, apparently," Pierre said, laughing as he echoed the hashtag.

The table settled into a hum of conversation again, but Oscar stayed quiet, his gaze fixed on his plate. The villa was about to change again, and for the first time since Logan had picked him at the recoupling, he felt an edge of uncertainty creep in.

As the sun climbed higher, the islanders buzzed with speculation about the new arrivals. Conversations ebbed and flowed, each one laced with curiosity and a touch of apprehension. Oscar had been unusually quiet, his thoughts more inward as the hours ticked by. Eventually, he couldn't ignore the nagging feeling any longer.

He found Logan lounging by the pool, her legs dangling in the water as she chatted with Maxine. The sight of her, sun-dappled and smiling, calmed him a little, but it didn't erase his need to address the swirling thoughts in his head.

"Logan," he said, catching her attention with a small smile. "Mind if I steal you for a bit?"

Logan glanced at Maxine, who gave an exaggerated sigh but waved her off with a grin. "Sure," Logan said, standing and grabbing her towel. "What's up?"

Oscar led her toward the quieter corner of the garden, where a pair of sun loungers sat beneath the shade of an umbrella. Once they were seated, he hesitated, searching for the right words.

"You've gone all serious on me," Logan teased lightly, nudging his arm. "What's on your mind?"

Oscar exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just... with these new guys coming in tonight, I wanted to check in with you." He met her eyes, forcing himself to keep his tone casual. "You know, see where your head's at."

Logan tilted her head, studying him. "Where my head's at?"

"Yeah," he said quickly, gesturing vaguely. "I mean, it's Love Island. Getting to know people is kind of the whole point, right? So, are you thinking... are you planning to talk to them? Like, really talk to them?"

Logan's lips twitched, and for a second, he thought she might laugh. But instead, she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms.

"Oscar," she said, her tone gentle but direct, "is this your way of asking if I'm going to drop you for one of the new guys?"

He winced. "That's... not exactly what I said."

"But it's what you meant," she countered, a teasing smile softening her words.

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I just—things are good between us, right? And I don't want to assume anything. If you feel like you need to explore other connections, I get it. I just... I'd rather know now than be blindsided later."

Logan watched him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she reached out, her fingers brushing his arm.

"I'm not going anywhere, Oscar," she said firmly. "I picked you for a reason, and I don't regret it."

Relief washed over him, but she wasn't finished.

"That said," she added, "I'm not going to sit here and say I won't even talk to them. That's not how this works, and it's not how I want to play it." She paused, her gaze steady. "But I do know where I stand right now. And it's with you."

Oscar nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Okay. That's... that's fair."

"And you?" Logan asked, her tone shifting to something lighter. "What happens when Fred or Jack tries to sweep you off your feet?"

Oscar chuckled, leaning back. "Guess I'll have to let you know how good their game is."

Logan laughed, her hand lingering on his for a moment longer before she pulled it away. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Maybe," he admitted, his smile widening.

For the first time all day, the knot in his chest loosened. Whatever happened tonight, they'd face it together—or at least, he hoped they would.

Oscar and Logan strolled back toward the pool, their conversation light but tinged with the buzz of anticipation for the night ahead. The sun was high, casting a golden glow over the villa, and as they turned the corner, they spotted Maxine now lounging on a sunbed with an air of nonchalance that could only be described as strategic.

Maxine didn't bother sitting up as they approached, but she did tilt her oversized sunglasses down just enough to fix them with a pointed look. "Well, well," she drawled, her voice dripping with mock offense. "Look who finally decided to stop sneaking off and re-join the rest of us mere mortals. Should I be concerned, or were you two off plotting your own villa takeover?"

Logan smirked, plopping herself down onto the sunbed next to Maxine. "Relax, Max. We weren't scheming. Just... strategizing."

"Uh-huh because that makes such a difference." Maxine pushed her sunglasses back into place, the corners of her mouth quirking up. "Strategizing, scheming—same difference. Let me guess: you're both secretly terrified these new boys will come in and ruin your little love bubble. Or should I say Oscar is?"

Oscar rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small laugh that slipped out. "Yeah cheers for that Max."

Maxine arched an eyebrow, finally sitting up. "You're welcome, it's actually kind of cute how down bad you are." She smirked, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "But just so we're clear, I've already called first dibs on both Fred and Jack. I mean, single girl rules and all that. I'm not getting dumped just because I'm not in a couple because one of the others aren't happy in theirs."

Logan grinned, leaning back with her arms crossed. "Not wasting any time, are you?"

"Please," Max scoffed. "It's called being proactive. A girl's gotta take charge in this game. Even if I don't like either of them, I have to make it work."

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head as he sat on the edge of a nearby lounger. "Bold of you to assume they'll both want to chat with you first."

"Oh how sweet Oscar but bold of you to assume they won't," Maxine shot back, her grin widening. "If anything they'll target me because they know I'm a one way ticket into the villa as the single girl. Besides, if one of them doesn't, I'll just redirect him your way, Oscar. You could use a little competition to keep things interesting."

Oscar snorted. "Thanks, Maxine. I'll be sure to send him right back to you."

The three of them dissolved into laughter, the playful jabs cutting through the underlying tension of what the evening might bring.

"You two," she said, turning the mood serious once again, "are the only people I trust not to spin this conversation into some villa-wide gossip session. So, congratulations. You're my confidants for the day."

Logan chuckled, leaning forward. "Sounds serious. What's on your mind, Max?"

Maxine hesitated, fiddling with the condensation on her glass. "It's about the new boys. And, well... Dan."

Oscar exchanged a glance with Logan, then turned his attention back to Maxine. "You mean how you're single now and they're definitely going to be all over you?"

She rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. "Obviously, I'm going to flirt my way through the next week. I'd be stupid not to. But..." She trailed off, her usual sharp confidence dimmed. "I don't know. I feel weird about how things went down with Dan."

Logan tilted her head, softening her tone. "Weird how?"

Maxine leaned back in her chair, sighing again. "I liked Dan. He was sweet, and we had good banter. And there was definitely chemistry. But... I don't think it was ever going to be serious. Like, long-term serious, you know?"

Oscar nodded slowly. "So, you feel bad that he got dumped but... not because you lost him."

"Exactly." Maxine gave him a small, grateful smile. "I don't think either of us were in it for the long haul. But I still feel guilty, like maybe I should've tried harder or... I don't know, saved him somehow."

Logan reached out and gave Maxine's knee a reassuring squeeze. "You can't save everyone, Max. This is Love Island. You weren't responsible for what happened. None of us knew what was at stake in that kissing challenge."

Maxine snorted, though her expression softened at the gesture. "I know. But it still sucks. He was my person in here, even if it was just a stopgap thing. And now with these new boys coming in..." She looked up at them, her bravado momentarily gone. "It's just a lot. What if I don't vibe with either of them? What if I'm the next one out?"

Oscar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "First of all, you're not going anywhere. You're Maxine. Second of all, you don't have to decide your whole future the second these guys walk in. Just see how you feel."

"Yeah," Logan chimed in. "And remember, you're in control here. They're coming in to impress you. Let them work for it."

Maxine's smirk returned, faint but growing. "You two really are good for my ego, you know that?"

"Someone has to be," Oscar teased, earning an eye roll and a laugh from Maxine.

"Okay, okay," she said, shaking off her earlier gloom. "Enough of this heartfelt stuff. I've got boys to terrorise, and you two have a relationship to keep pretending isn't disgustingly perfect."

Logan raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Oh, we're disgusting now?"

"Absolutely vile," Maxine deadpanned. "But also, weirdly inspirational. So, thanks for that, I guess."

Oscar chuckled as Maxine stood, brushing imaginary dust off her shorts. "Don't forget, Max: you're Maxine. You've got this."

She gave him a wink, her confidence fully restored. "Damn right I do." With that, she strutted off, leaving Oscar and Logan to exchange amused, knowing looks.

"She's going to be fine," Logan said, smiling.

Oscar leaned back with a contented sigh. "Yeah, but those new boys? They have no idea what they're walking into."

When the sun dipped below the horizon that night the islanders dispersed inside to prepare for the night and their new arrivals. The likes of Max obviously were first to dash upstairs and start getting ready as to make a memorable impression on the newcomers. The rest of the girls also crowded into the dressing room, slipping into a variety of colourful dresses and two pieces. Whereas the boys hung back downstairs after changing into the usual linen shirts and trousers, their chatter quieter but no less full of gossip.

Carlos had taken the spot closest to the mirror, meticulously fixing his hair, while George sprawled on the couch, already halfway done but taking his sweet time.

Oscar leaned against the bar, running his finger around the rim of his glass of water, trying to keep his nerves in check. The arrival of two new bombshells was bound to shake things up, and though he felt secure with Logan, there was a persistent hum of unease at the back of his mind.

Carlos, seemingly engrossed in his own reflection, broke the silence with a smirk. “So, who’s cracking first when these new guys walk in? Any guesses?”

George, lounging with an arm slung over the back of the couch, laughed. “Crack? Mate, half the villa might implode. Maxine will have them doing laps before they’ve even put their bags down.”

“She’s probably upstairs practicing her introduction now,” Alex chimed in from the other end of the bar, buttoning the last of his shirt. “You know, to really seal the deal.”

The boys chuckled, but Oscar’s thoughts were elsewhere. He was playing it cool, or trying to, but his mind kept running back to Logan. They were solid—or at least he thought they were—but the arrival of new people had a way of unsettling even the strongest couples. He’d seen it happen before, and the possibility gnawed at him.

Alex caught his distracted expression and leaned in with a teasing grin. “Oi, Oscar. What’s with the face? Nervous your girl’s head might turn?”

Oscar snapped out of it, shaking his head. “Not a chance. We’re good.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow from the mirror, his smirk widening. “Confident, aren’t you? Must be nice.”

Oscar shrugged, though his grip on the glass tightened slightly. “It’s not about confidence. I trust her. That’s what matters.”

Alex let out a low whistle. “Look at you, all deep and sentimental. Romantic, even.”

“Alright, settle down,” Oscar shot back, though he couldn’t hide the faint blush creeping up his neck. “What about you, Carlos? Think you’re safe, or should we expect some fireworks tonight?”

Carlos laughed, the sound sharp and self-assured. “Please. I’m unshakable. But I am curious to see how they’ll play it. Strategic or chaotic? Could be fun.”

Pierre, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up as he adjusted his cuffs. “Doesn’t matter. If they’re smart, they’ll steer clear of me.”

“Oh, really?” Alex teased. “What if one of them is your type?”

Pierre gave him a pointed look, but his lips twitched with the ghost of a smirk. “I don’t have a type.”

“Right,” George chimed in, grinning. “Your type’s just ‘not interested,’ yeah?”

The room erupted into laughter, and even Pierre couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him.

Oscar listened to the banter with half a smile, his thoughts still slightly detached. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and it was hard not to get swept up in it. Whatever happened tonight, he’d have to stay on his toes—and maybe prepare himself for a curveball or two.

George clapped his hands together, pulling everyone’s focus. “Alright, lads. Time to finish up and see who’s about to walk in and stir things up.”

Oscar nodded, standing straighter as the group began to file toward the living area. As much as he tried to play it cool, the faint flutter of nerves in his chest told a different story.

The villa buzzed with energy as the girls descended the staircase one by one, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Dressed to impress, they were a kaleidoscope of confidence—Maxine leading the way in a daring red dress that turned every head, while Logan followed in a sleek emerald green number that made Oscar momentarily forget to breathe.

The boys, already gathered outside, greeted the girls with wolf whistles and cheers, their usual antics amplified by the tension of the night ahead. Oscar couldn’t help but let out a low whistle of his own as Logan passed him, her eyes catching his for a moment before she flashed a teasing smile.

“You clean up alright,” Logan quipped, smoothing her dress as she took a seat next to him on the edge of the firepit.

“Alright?” Oscar feigned offense, running a hand down his shirt. “I’ll have you know this is my best linen.”

The others filtered into their spots, arranging themselves around the firepit as the night deepened. The air was cooler now, though the collective excitement kept the chill at bay. Maxine, true to form, made sure she was front and center, her expression carefully poised between casual and expectant.

Carlos leaned back in his seat, his gaze darting toward the villa entrance. “So, when do you reckon these guys are showing up? Feels like we’ve been waiting ages.”

“Patience, Carlos,” George drawled, clearly enjoying the suspense. “They’re probably building up the drama. It’s what they do best.”

“Speaking of drama,” Alex added with a smirk, glancing toward Maxine. “What’s the game plan, Max? Going for both or just flipping a coin?”

Maxine tossed her hair, her confidence unshaken. “Please, Alex. I don’t need a game plan. They’ll be coming to me.”

The group laughed, but the undercurrent of tension was unmistakable. The night felt like the calm before a storm, the kind that had the potential to shift everything.

Oscar leaned toward Logan, his voice low. “You ready for this? Could get messy.”

Logan turned her head slightly, a playful glint in her eye. “Messy’s half the fun. Don’t worry—I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Oscar chuckled, but the warmth in her voice eased some of his earlier nerves. Whatever the night held, he felt better knowing they were on the same page. Still, his attention flicked toward the villa entrance, his stomach doing a small flip as he waited for the new arrivals to make their move.

Suddenly the conversation around the firepit stilled as the sound of footsteps echoed from the villa entrance. All heads turned, the anticipation crackling like static electricity in the warm night air. The producers really knew how to milk a moment—Oscar could practically hear the iconic commentary of 'Tonight on love island...a hot new bombshell enters the villa.'

Through the archway stepped the two bombshells, their smiles wide and confident, their eyes scanning the group like they’d already taken stock of every connection in the villa.

Jack was the first to enter—a tall, broad-shouldered Australian with sun-kissed light brown hair and an effortless swagger that screamed “surfer boy charm.” He had the kind of easy grin that could disarm anyone, paired with piercing blue eyes that lingered just a moment too long on Logan as he made his way toward the group.

Trailing just behind him was Fred, a blond with sharp cheekbones and a quieter presence that still commanded attention. His hair was a tousled, golden wave that seemed perfectly undone, and he had the air of someone who didn’t need to try too hard to make an impression. If Jack exuded playful charisma, Fred was his cool, understated counterpart—a man who could captivate a room with just a glance.

Oscar straightened his posture, forcing himself not to fidget as the two bombshells approached. He’d been through this song and dance before—new arrivals coming in, testing waters, shaking things up. But the way Fred’s gaze seemed to sweep over the group, landing momentarily on Logan, sent a small ripple of unease through him. He wasn’t insecure—well, not exactly—but he wasn’t blind either. Fred had a quiet magnetism that people were bound to gravitate toward.

Beside him, Logan’s posture was calm, almost casual, but Oscar couldn’t tell if it was genuine indifference or her playing it cool. Either way, his mind raced. Do I say something? Act unbothered? What if he makes a beeline for her?

“G’day,” Jack greeted, his voice carrying that unmistakable Aussie lilt that instantly drew smiles from most of the group. “Good to meet you all. I’m Jack.”

Fred followed with a polite nod and a smooth smile, his voice low and measured. “I’m Fred. Looking forward to getting to know you all.”

The group welcomed them with polite smiles and cheers, but the undercurrent of tension was palpable. Oscar plastered on a grin, willing himself to look relaxed. Internally, though, he couldn’t help but catalogue every glance, every smile, every flicker of interest that might tip the scales.

As introductions began, Fred’s gaze shifted to Logan once again, his smile softening just slightly. Oscar’s stomach twisted. Right. Game on.

Things shifted and the group mingled in a loose circle, the energy buzzed with that mix of excitement and apprehension that only new arrivals could bring. The introductions went smoothly, though Oscar found himself hyper-focused on every interaction Fred had, especially when it came to Logan. He wasn’t proud of the way his chest tightened every time Fred’s gaze lingered on her just a fraction too long.

When Jack made his way around the group, he approached Oscar with an easy grin. “Ah, another Aussie!” Jack clapped Oscar on the shoulder, his tone warm and instantly familiar. “What are the odds? Gotta say, mate, it’s nice to see a familiar face—even if it’s not literally familiar.”

Oscar chuckled, shaking Jack’s hand. “Yeah, good to have some backup in here. The Brits can be a bit much sometimes.”

Jack laughed, the sound hearty and infectious. “Don’t worry, mate, I’ll keep an eye out for you. Us Aussies gotta stick together.”

Oscar smiled, but his attention was split. He couldn’t stop glancing at Fred, who was a few islanders away now, shaking hands and hugging everyone with that quiet charm of his. There was nothing overtly cocky about him—Fred’s confidence was subtle, effortless. He didn’t need to peacock; he just was.

When Fred finally reached him, Oscar forced himself to relax. “Oscar, right?” Fred said, extending a hand. His grip was firm but not overpowering, his smile as warm as it was disarming.

“That’s me,” Oscar replied, returning the handshake.

“Good to meet you,” Fred said, his voice low and even.

 Oscar wanted to hate him—truly, he did. Fred was too smooth, too composed, and clearly interested in Logan. But damn it, the guy just seemed...nice. He wasn’t laying it on too thick, wasn’t overly flirtatious, and hadn’t yet done anything that warranted Oscar’s simmering irritation. It was frustrating.

As Fred moved on to introduce himself to someone else, Oscar let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He caught Logan’s eye briefly, and she gave him a small, reassuring smile. It helped a little, but Oscar’s nerves were still buzzing.

As the group continued to mingle, Carlos drifted closer to Oscar, his presence impossible to ignore. He leaned casually against the bar beside him, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to exude that signature effortless charm. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Carlos tilted his head toward the cluster of islanders where Logan was chatting with Fred and Jack.

“Estás muy callado, Oscarito,” Carlos teased, his voice low and playful. “Are you always this quiet, or is it because those new chicos seem very into your girl?”

Oscar stiffened, immediately defensive. “I’m not quiet,” he muttered, though his tone was sharper than intended.

Carlos grinned, undeterred. “Claro, claro,” he said, placing a warm hand on Oscar’s shoulder, his fingers lingering a beat too long. “But your face says otherwise, mi vida. Jealousy looks good on you, you know.”

Oscar turned to glare at him, but the effect was diminished by the faint flush creeping up his neck. “I’m not jealous,” he said firmly, crossing his arms in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

Carlos chuckled, leaning in just enough that Oscar caught a hint of his cologne. “Por favor, don’t lie to me, cariño,” he purred, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. “I can practically feel the tension rolling off you. Like you’re ready to pounce the second Fred gets too close to Logan.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, trying to shrug off the weight of Carlos’s hand. “Fred seems nice. I’m not worried.”

“Oh, muy maduro,” Carlos said, his grin widening. “So noble of you to let her explore her options. But…” He leaned in even closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “If you ever feel like you need to blow off some steam, you know where to find me.”

Oscar’s jaw clenched, and he turned away, determined not to let Carlos get under his skin. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Gracias, cariño,” Carlos replied smoothly, giving Oscar’s shoulder a playful squeeze before sauntering off to rejoin the group.

Oscar exhaled sharply, shaking his head. Carlos had a way of making everything ten times more complicated, and right now, the last thing Oscar needed was more complications.

The group gathered around the firepit, the flickering flames casting a warm glow on everyone’s faces, the seating arrangement naturally falling into place with Jack and Fred taking centre stage. They wasted no time in diving into questioning the new arrivals.

George, perched casually on the edge of his seat, kicked things off. “Alright, lads, let’s start with the basics. How old are you both?”

Jack leaned back slightly, his easy smile lighting up his face. “I’m 21. Born and raised on the Gold Coast. Surf instructor by trade.”

Fred followed with a relaxed nod, his accent adding a melodic lilt to his words. “I’m 22, from Copenhagen. I’m a mechanic. Love working with my hands, you know?”

This earned a few murmurs of approval, and Carlos wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, making the group laugh. “A man who can fix things, eh? Good to have around in more ways than one.”

Maxine leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. “And what made you decide to come into the villa? Was it just the free holiday, or is there someone who’s caught your eye?”

Jack chuckled, running a hand through his sun-kissed curls. “Honestly, a bit of both. I’m here to see if I can find something real. And yeah, there are a few people I’m keen to get to know.”

Lily grinned mischievously. “Alright, don’t leave us hanging. Spill. Who are these people?”

Jack’s gaze swept the group with a playful glint. “Alright, fine. Top three? Charlotte, Carmen, and Maxine.”

Maxine raised her eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Oh, me? I had no idea!” She gave an exaggerated hair flip, earning a round of laughter.

Next, Logan chimed in with a grin, her eyes narrowing playfully at Fred. “Your turn, Mr. Mechanic. Same question.”

Fred tilted his head thoughtfully before replying, his tone sincere. “It’s early, but I’ve got my eye on Logan, Maxine, and Charlotte.”

Oscar froze for a split second at the mention of Logan’s name, forcing a neutral smile onto his face as he sipped his water. The flames of the firepit weren’t the only thing making his cheeks feel hot.

Carlos, sitting next to him, leaned in slightly and whispered in his ear. “See, he’s coming for your girl, cariño. You better be ready.” The comment was accompanied by a squeeze to Oscar’s knee and an infuriatingly amused grin.

Meanwhile, Charlotte simply nodded, calm and collected. “Solid picks,” she said with a small smile, but the slight flush on her cheeks didn’t go unnoticed.

Fred seemed oblivious to any tension he’d stirred, his demeanour relaxed and earnest as the islanders continued peppering the newcomers with questions. For Oscar though, everything felt like it was going to get a lot more complicated.

[joshreads]

SPECIAL MIDWEEK METAPOST! Sadly, the message in this image is all too real

[zodiacvore]

Zodiacvore Horoscope for the week of June 10-16 2025

Aries: Start the week strong and keep your energy steady. Midweek is perfect for building momentum. Treat yourself to something spontaneous on Thursday. Let your inner spark shine, but remember to save a little fire for the weekend.

Taurus: A chill vibe settles in over your week. Focus on your favorite comforts and playlists. Only say yes to plans that genuinely excite you. The right people will find you when you are fully yourself.

Gemini: Social energy is rising. Expect new conversations, DMs, and bright ideas. Try not to overbook your schedule. If you do, roll with it and have fun mixing things up.

Cancer: Homebody energy is at its peak. Enjoy your space and recharge, but don’t ignore your group chat. Someone is reaching out for your advice. Make time for a sweet treat midweek.

Leo: Spotlight moments are popping up. This is your week to glow, whether you update your profile or send a spontaneous message to a friend. Even on quiet days, you still radiate gold.

Virgo: It’s time to refresh your space or clear your mind. Organize one small area and notice how it lifts your mood. Details matter, but make sure you rest and enjoy the little wins.

Libra: You’re craving connection. Invite someone out or reconnect with an old friend. Compliments you give will circle back to you. Balance feels best when it is shared.

Scorpio: Something mysterious is brewing. You might be keeping a secret or searching for answers. Trust your intuition and stay open. Clarity will find you by Friday.

Sagittarius: Adventure is in the air. Let yourself plan something new, even if it’s just a different route for your daily routine. The universe rewards you for trying something out of the ordinary.

Capricorn: Steady progress is your theme. This is a good week to set a fresh boundary or try a small shift in your habits. Someone around you is noticing your effort.

Aquarius: An unexpected opportunity may show up in the middle of the week. Say yes to anything that feels fun, even if it’s not your usual thing. A little surprise could lead to a lot of joy.

Pisces: Your intuition is extra strong right now. Choose company that lifts you up and gives you space to dream. Refuel with music, art, or extra sleep if you need it.

[the-wip-project]

February 6

Hello writerly friends!

It's the midweek nag post. 

I have to admit, I find it very hard to focus on writing right now. It's been... some truly terrible days. If you want to ruin your day some more, look up what hypernormalization means and why we're living it right now.

Aaaanyway...

I don't want to minimize the stress and the pressure resting on all of us, but we all need art. I know it's hard. But we need art, we need stories. Writing and reading is always political, and even the fluffiest fluff story with a hopeful message is political because it gives us hope.

Look in your themes, look for hope. It's time for some hopepunk. 

@creativelyfueled @wildswrites @pheita @koiwrites @wickedwitchofthewilds @theburnedoutnerd @fontainebleau22 @illegalcerebral @incognitajones @theglitchywriterboi @sashakielman @satashiiwrites @lilliebellfanfics @jeaniefranklins @iressails @lastelle21 @sgam76 @tryingtimi @randomquadballpun @dragonnan @mclavellan @bisexualdawnsummers @hiraethwritings @523rdrebel @thebonesongs @gewhanaa @broodwolf221 @batteredrugosa @quilleth @exceedinglyfilledwithfolly @vigilskept @drowsy-quill @i-had-bucky @direquail @jacqueswriteblrlibrary @bogunicorn @bluejay-in-write

[t-underneaththeradardancing]

midweek and murder - needles owee also but 1st

(drumroll)

a kitty good and always - gray sky - morning ly message and inna hurry - otherwise usual usual - gray sky etc

omg the fuckery

hallelujah

anyway