#and is just so lazy and boring honestly

[ahbutimavillain]

Honesty who tf gave the green light for s6 when s5 was that fucking awful

[themyscirah]

"Hawke" is no more!

Edit from Green Arrow (2023) #13

[ghostly-tigers]

Finally finished these guys((I’ll draw the Dolorosa another time haha))

[fingertipsmp3]

Also I feel like I have to say this but FUCK Toy Story 4. Awful movie, bad execution, poor excuse for a sequel.

[milflewis]

your dad saying kyle is your sugar daddy made me choke on my dinner lmao. why is that something you would say???

bc to my greatest despair and smallest comfort i am my father’s daughter and thank you for the reminder of that

[fatestouch]

if I had to give Hayden a ‘voice’, it would definitely be J.ustin B.riner as K.iyotaka A.yanokouji in Classroom of the Elite

[greyedian]

.

[dismalflo]

all the reasons we're not in love

James potter x fem!reader ✩ 4.6k words

summary: You and James are best fucking friends—nothing more, nothing less. So why does everyone act like you're secretly in love, like it's some kind of undeniable fact?

cw: fluff, a pinch of angst, steamy makeout but no smut, best friends to lovers, idiots in love.

James gets up from the booth and leans down to ruffle your hair just because he knows it’ll annoy you. All sat around a too small booth in the back of the pub with a few chairs pulled up to accommodate the large group. It’s James' turn to buy a round, and you make a show of swatting his hand away as he goes, tracking his movements all the way to the bar. 

You have a second to take in the dingy lights and the rowdy regulars in the local before Lily scares you half to death, leaning into your field of view. Eyes alight with mischief and an impish smile on her lip.

“So…” she says, dragging out the vowel, “what's going on?”

“What's going on with what?” you laugh, confused but delighted by Lily after a few drinks. 

“You and James!” she practically squeals, shaking your arm with gleeful energy. “You’ve been giggling like schoolkids all night. He had his arm around you! Just admit it already—you like each other.”

You groan. “Lils, we always do that.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically, clearly fed up with your refusal to see what she sees. And you? You’re fed up with everyone constantly implying that you and James must fancy each other. As if friendship isn’t enough.

“James and I are friends. That’s—”

“Best fucking friends,” James announces cheerfully, appearing out of nowhere and sliding your drink in front of you before placing the rest in the middle of the table.

“Exactly! Thank you,” you say, gesturing to him like he’s just proved your point.

Lily exhales sharply, throwing you a meaningful look before turning back to the group.

James sinks back into the booth beside you, draping an arm casually along the backrest behind your shoulders

“Try this,” he says, nudging his glass toward you. He’s been working his way through the list of ridiculous specialty mocktails on the menu and insists you sample every one. “It’s strawberry… something. You’ll like it.”

You take a sip. He’s right, obviously—it’s sweet and bright and tastes like summer. You smile up at him, pleased. “That’s really good. I’m getting one next round.”

He grins, radiant. “You can have that one, angel.”

You try to push the glass back, but he doesn’t let you. He’s about to insist again—mouth open, eyes soft—when a familiar voice cuts in.

“Why don’t you share your drinks like that with me, Moony?” Sirius whines from across the table, looking genuinely offended.

Remus sighs—meaning to sound exasperated, probably—but the fond look he gives his boyfriend tells a different story.

“We’ve been drinking the same thing all night, that’s why,” he replies, a smile starting to bloom on his lips. “And…” He glances your way with a teasing glint in his eye. “We’re not an old married couple like them.”

“Yeah,” Sirius mutters, barely above a breath, like it's a tragedy, “good thing they’re both fit.”

You let out a loud laugh. “We’re friends—”

“Best fucking friends.”

“—Not an old married couple. And honestly, you can’t say anything, Remus ‘Knitwear’ Lupin.”

“She’s not wrong,” James says with a quiet chuckle, sliding his hand to your back, fingers moving in lazy, absent-minded circles.

Remus only laughs, shaking his head, while Sirius looks scandalized—utterly betrayed on his boyfriend’s behalf.

“I like Rem’s knitwear, Trouble,” Sirius says, fixing you with a glare that would be more effective if his cheeks weren’t flushed from the drinks. “And I’d be very careful, or I’ll convince him to stop knitting your presents. Then all you’ll get are boring gift cards.” He nods solemnly, clearly impressed with his own threat.

You gasp dramatically, hand to your chest like he’s wounded you. “You wouldn’t.”

Sirius just giggles in response—giggles, which is never a good sign—so you turn to Remus, eyes wide, appealing.

“You wouldn’t let him, would you? You’ll still knit me things, Rem?”

Remus chuckles, shaking his head with a smile that promises yes, always.

That’s when you notice James—usually the loudest one at the table—has gone quiet. You turn toward him, curious, and catch the way he’s watching you. Soft eyes. That funny little smile he only wears when he thinks no one’s looking.

“You okay?” you ask, voice gentling with concern.

The question seems to pull him out of whatever haze he was in. His grin returns, bright and easy, like it never left.

“I’m great, angel.” He leans in, dropping his voice so only you can hear. “If Moony stopped knitting for you... I’d learn how to.”

You blink at him. “You? Knitting?”

He nods solemnly, one hand still warm against your back, and raises the other as if swearing an oath. “I’d do it for you. Even if it meant stabbing myself with the needles every five minutes. That’s how committed I am.”

You laugh, unable to help yourself. “You’re so dramatic.”

You’re laughing, and your cheeks are warm, and James is still looking at you like you’ve hung the stars—but you brush it off like you always do.

Because this is what you and James do. Banter, teasing, little smiles no one else gets—your own language that you’ve been speaking fluently for years. It’s not new. It doesn’t mean anything.

He nudges your knee with his own, still grinning like he’s won something. Like your laugh is enough.

And maybe it is. Maybe it always has been.

But then Lily shoots you another look across the table, all smug eyebrows and that annoying “I told you so” glint in her eye, and it hits you again like it always does—this sudden awareness of how everyone else sees you. You and James. As if it’s already written somewhere, carved into the stars or tucked between the pages of your shared history.

You take a sip of the strawberry-whatever to stall, trying not to frown. Because the truth is, you know how this looks from the outside. All the little things he does, the way you lean into him without thinking, the endless inside jokes—it paints a picture. A certain type of story.

Because he’s James. And you’re... you.

And no matter how many times Sirius winks or Mary raises a knowing brow or Lily insists you're in love, you don’t think there’s a universe where you and James actually get together. Not really.

You’re best friends. That’s it.

And maybe there’s something sacred in that. Something worth protecting.

Besides—he doesn’t fancy you. Not like that. And you certainly don’t fancy him. No matter how charming he is. Or how warm his laugh makes you feel. Or how he always saves you the last piece of your favourite treats even when he pretends he won’t. Or how he’s looking at you now like he’d burn down the world just to keep you smiling.

No. You don’t fancy each other. That would be... messy. Complicated. The end of everything easy and good between you.

And James Potter may be a lot of things, but he’s not your ending.

He’s your always.

So you take another sip of the mocktail he gave you and bump his shoulder with your own, like nothing ever passed through your mind. He bumps you back, that lazy smirk still on his lips.

-

The pub starts to empty in waves, voices thinning out as people stumble toward coat racks and lingering goodbyes. You're nestled deeper into the booth than you realized, lulled by warmth and easy laughter and the comfort of being surrounded by your people.

Eventually, someone suggests calling it. Mary’s already halfway into her coat, Sirius is trying to coax Remus into stealing pint glasses for their flat –something about the collection– and Lily kisses you on the cheek with a meaningful look before grabbing Marlene’s arm and disappearing toward the door in a burst of cold air and laughter.

And James?

James is exactly where he’s been all night—at your side, elbow brushing yours every time he moves. When you pull your coat on, he reaches over without thinking and helps tug the hood into place for you.

“You ready?” he asks, and it’s easy, familiar.

“Yeah. Thanks for driving.” You smile, a little sleepy now that the buzz is fading.

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Wouldn’t trust anyone else to make sure you get home.”

-

The drive is quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. Music hums low through the speakers—something you’ve heard a million times over, something James mumbles along to under his breath when he thinks you’re not listening. He’s one of those annoyingly good drivers too. One hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely between the seats, fingers drumming to the beat.

You glance over once and catch him mid-yawn, eyes crinkling at the corners as he grins at the road.

“Wanna come in?” you hear yourself ask when he pulls up in front of your place, your voice softer than you expect. “Just for a bit? I might put on a film.”

James looks at you, searching your face for something. Whatever he finds, it makes him smile—gentler than before. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like that.”

You flick on the lights when you step inside, and it’s like muscle memory from there: shoes off, jacket thrown over the arm of the sofa, kettle filled. James leans against your kitchen counter like he belongs there. And he kind of does. There’s a mug he always uses in your cupboard. A hoodie of his in your laundry pile.

“What are we watching?” he asks, already padding into your living room, socked feet silent on the floorboards.

“Something easy,” you say. “Something we’ve seen before so I don’t actually have to pay attention.”

James shoots you a grin over his shoulder. “That for me or for you?”

You ignore the question, toss him the remote. “Dealer’s choice.”

You end up on opposite ends of the couch, legs tangled somewhere in the middle because it’s late and it’s cold and this is what you do. It’s not new.

The movie starts playing, dim blue light casting soft shadows across his face. You watch it for a while—or try to—but your thoughts start running at a mile a minute instead.

You try to focus on the movie. Really, you do. But all you can hear is Lily’s voice echoing in your head: “Just admit it already—you like each other.”

It’s not just her. It’s everyone.

Sirius, with his loud, theatrical gasps every time James passes you a drink. Marlene muttering “just kiss already” under her breath like it’s an inside joke. Even Remus, who’s supposed to be the voice of reason, always quirking a brow when James tosses an arm around your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Which it is. It’s normal. It doesn’t mean anything.

But now? Now it’s stuck in your head. Every glance, every smile, every stupid joke he laughs too hard at—it’s all tinged with the weight of everyone else's expectations.

You lean your head back on the cushion and sigh.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” James asks, voice soft and scratchy with tiredness.

You glance at him. His eyes are still on the TV, but the corners of his mouth twitch like he already knows you’re spiraling.

You hesitate, then sit up a little. “Can I ask you something?”

His gaze flicks to you instantly. “Course.”

“Do you ever get… tired of everyone thinking we’re in love?”

James lets out a short breath, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “All the fucking time.”

You nod, almost relieved. “Right? It’s like—just because we’re close doesn’t mean we’re secretly pining.”

“Exactly!” James says, animated now, like he’s been waiting for someone to validate this. “Like, we literally watched Sirius throw himself at Rem for years and no one said shit, but I pass you a drink and suddenly it’s like—‘When’s the wedding, James?’”

You snort, finally smiling. “It’s exhausting.”

“Truly.”

Silence falls again, but it’s different now. 

“I just…” you start, voice quieter. “I wish there was a way to prove it, you know? That we don’t fancy each other. That this—” you gesture vaguely between the two of you “—this is just friendship.”

James raises a brow, half-amused. “You want, like… a presentation?”

You giggle. “Maybe.”

“Bullet points and everything?”

“‘All the reasons James Potter is categorically not in love with me.’”

“‘Exhibit A: the time I ate her last slice of pizza.’”

“‘Exhibit B: he never laughs at my best jokes.’”

“That’s a lie and you know it.”

Another beat passes. You look at each other.

There’s a flicker in James’ eyes—just a spark of something you can’t name—and it hits you, sudden and sharp, how close you are. His knee is still pressed against yours. His fingers are brushing your ankle like it’s nothing. Like it always has been.

You lick your lips. Heart hammering. And then—

“…We should kiss.”

James blinks. “What?”

You’re not even sure where the words came from. They just—slipped out. But now that they’re here, they feel oddly right. Inevitable.

You swallow. “We should kiss. Just once. To prove there’s nothing there.”

He stares at you, stunned into silence.

You rush to explain. “I mean—everyone keeps saying there is. And maybe if we just… did it, and it was awkward or bad or whatever, we could tell them and they’d drop it. They’d finally stop acting like we’re in some secret relationship.”

James is still staring, mouth slightly open.

You flush, heat creeping up your neck. “It’s stupid, forget it—”

“I’ll do it,” he says suddenly.

Your breath catches. “You will?”

He nods, slowly, like he’s still catching up with himself. “Yeah. If it’ll prove a point.”

You try to ignore the way your pulse spikes. “Right. Okay.”

With the room still mostly shrouded in darkness, it's difficult to make out the features of his face clearly. He shifts closer to you whilst manoeuvring your legs to settle beside you properly. There's little time to recognise the shift in his gaze as it pins to your lips before he's grinning and speaking again.

“What happens when you fall in love with me because of this?”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “Your ego’s fucking massive Potter, I’ll be fine.” you say, gently slapping his arm. “Not sure about you though.” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head at you, acting like you're the biggest nuisance in the world.

“Come on then.” you say, impatiently. James sighs, then nods, before he's raising a hand to cup your jaw. His touch is gentle, like he's holding something fragile, priceless. And then he's leaning in so slowly, allowing you the time to pull away in case you’d been joking.

You let your eyes fall shut, expecting his kiss as your hand drifts to rest on his knee. You don’t notice the faint hitch in his breath at your touch—it’s so subtle, it nearly slips past you. The kiss comes and goes in a heartbeat, a fleeting, chaste peck that barely brushes your lips. When his hand pulls away and he clears his throat, your eyes open. He doesn’t say a word.

Despite the fact you should feel happy that you felt nothing, there's a strange twisting feeling in your stomach. Like when you startle awake after dreaming that you're falling. Then it comes to you, that kiss wasn’t a real one it can’t prove anything. 

“That wasn’t a proper kiss, James.” you say while looking down at your hands, not wanting to face him.

“You’re right.” you look up to see his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and you're startled by the sudden fascination with his mouth. 

“You have to kiss me like you’d kiss someone you're in love with.”

James’ gaze drops to your lips and stays pinned there as he’s silent, thinking. 

“I can do that… I think.” 

“Come on then.” you joke as you take a deeper breath in.

James exhales, slow and steady, but you can see it—the way his fingers twitch slightly, like he’s restraining something. Like there’s a weight behind your words neither of you wants to name just yet.

“You’re sure?” he asks, voice quieter now, with none of that usual cocky lilt. It’s careful. Measured. He’s giving you one last out.

You nod. “It’s just a kiss.”

But it’s not. You both know that. It hasn’t been just a kiss since the moment you suggested it.

Still, you say it anyway, because it’s easier to pretend it’s simple.

James shifts closer, knees brushing yours again, the space between you shrinking by the second. His hand finds your jaw again—just like before—but this time his thumb lingers at your cheekbone, the pad of it brushing soft circles that make your heart lurch. There’s something almost reverent in his touch now, like he’s memorising every inch of you.

When he leans in this time, it’s slower. Like he’s moving through water. Like the world around you doesn’t matter anymore.

And when he finally kisses you, it’s nothing like the first time.

It’s not hesitant or performative or brief. It’s warm and aching and real.

James kisses you like he’s been waiting his whole life to do it. Like this isn’t about proving anything or making a point—it’s about you. About this.

His lips are soft and sure against yours, and when your hand slips up to grip the front of his jumper, he deepens the kiss with a low hum in the back of his throat, like he’s been holding that sound in for too long.

One of his hands slips down to your hip, shifting you closer, settling you on his lap. You go willingly, knees digging into the sofa at either side of his thighs as he tilts his head back to reach you better. Completely lost in each other, forgetting, you’re sure your lips will soon turn numb.

Your hands drift upward to settle around his neck and lightly tug the hair at the nape of his neck. James pulls you closer by the waist, chests flush and his mouth remains probing and searching on your own.

There’s the feeling of a smile in the kiss but you can’t tell who’s it is. You’ve fallen into a steady rhythm, easy and sweet, but when a noise is pulled from his throat you freeze, pulling away. 

Looking down at him your face sits somewhere between concern and confusion. James stares right back at you panting, but otherwise seemingly unaffected.

“Forgive a man for getting distracted, angel.” he defends, like it's all your fault. 

You know you should move away from him now. Really, you know. But there's a strange standoff happening where neither of you look away and neither of you move. Until you do. 

It's hard to tell who moves in first, but the other reciprocates and you’re kissing again. James kisses you like a man starved. It's feverish and intense. It's everything. 

You can’t help but grab hold of his hair, curls silky and soft through your fingers, giving them the slightest tug experimentally. It makes James shamelessly grind up against you. Nails digging lightly into the back of his neck, you gasp when his mouth leaves yours properly and latches onto your neck, lost in the bliss of it all, you grind down against him.

“Fuck, don’t do that,” His breath sounds strained. “can’t take it—“ His murmur is a rumble against your skin. You flush at the idea that he can’t contain himself because of this. Because of you. 

When he pulls away, finished ravishing your neck, you come back down to earth, scrambling to remove yourself from his lap. His hair is messy, messier than usual, from your touch and his lips are red and kiss bitten. 

You look to the far corner before you speak, unable to look at him now. 

“... I guess we’ve proved we don’t fancy each other, then.” 

You’re a liar and you know you are.

-

It’s been two days since the kiss. Two long, excruciating days where you haven’t spoken to James once. Not a text. Not a call.

You’ve replayed that night over and over in your head, hoping it would start to blur around the edges, lose its sharpness. But it hasn’t. If anything, it’s crystal clear—every touch, every sound, every look he gave you. And worst of all? You don’t even regret it.

You’re halfway through nursing a lukewarm coffee at the back corner of a café when Sirius slides into the seat across from you like he owns the place, all leather jacket and smug grin.

“Oi,” he says, tugging your cup toward himself and taking a sip without asking. “You’ve been avoiding us.”

You blink, startled. “Us?

As if summoned, Remus appears beside him, calm and neat in that way that makes you feel even more frazzled by comparison. “She’s definitely been avoiding James,” he says, not unkindly, as he slides into the seat beside Sirius.

Sirius throws an arm around Remus’ shoulders with dramatic flair. “And thus—by extension—the rest of us, tragically caught in the crossfire of whatever the hell is going on.”

You frown. “Nothing is going on.”

Sirius lets out a loud, derisive snort. “Right. Tell that to James, who has been moping around the flat like a Victorian widow.”

“I’m serious,” you say quickly.

Remus raises an eyebrow. “So are we.”

You roll your eyes. “Come on. He’s not moping.”

Sirius levels you with a look, all theatrics dropped. “He didn’t even yell at me for eating his last bag of crisps yesterday. He just sighed. Like—actual sadness sighing. Who even does that?”

Your heart sinks, but you try not to let it show. “He’s probably just… tired. He drove me home from the pub that night, maybe he’s still catching up on sleep.”

Sirius and Remus share a look.

Remus tilts his head. “That’s the night it started, you know.”

“I told you,” Sirius says, grinning now like he’s cracked a case. “Something happened in that car. Or after. Did you two fight?”

“No,” you say quickly. Too quickly. “Nothing happened.”

Sirius narrows his eyes at you. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“I’m not lying,” you lie.

Remus leans in, voice quieter now, more careful. “We’re not trying to corner you. Just… we’re worried. About both of you.”

You take a long sip of your coffee, trying to buy time, but it’s cold and bitter and doesn’t help at all. You stare into the cup like it holds the answers. It doesn’t.

Sirius softens, which is somehow worse. “Look, we’re not asking for details. Just—maybe talk to him?”

You sigh. “I don’t know what I’d even say.”

“Try the truth,” Remus offers gently.

The truth is a mess, though. The truth is a blur of lips and hands and breathless gasps. It’s James’ eyes on yours in the dark, his fingers brushing your cheek like he was afraid you’d vanish. It’s the way you didn’t sleep that night, couldn’t sleep, because your skin still remembered the shape of his touch.

And the worst part? The worst part is you know what you felt wasn’t one-sided.

Sirius glances at his watch. “If you don’t call him, I’m sending him to your flat.” He threatens, leaving no room for argument.

-

You don’t call him.

You want to—God, you want to. You’ve picked up your phone half a dozen times just to stare at his name, thumb hovering over the call button like it’s going to electrocute you. But every time, something stops you. Some awful cocktail of fear and guilt and what-if. What if it was a mistake? What if he regrets it? What if he doesn’t, and you’re the one who ruins everything?

So you don’t call. You sit with the silence and let it suffocate you.

It's nearly midnight when there's a knock at your door.

Your heart jumps into your throat. For a second, you think about ignoring it, pretending you’re asleep, but you already know who it is.

You open the door anyway.

James is standing there, hoodie thrown on as if he’d left in a rush, curls messy and damp like he’d just run his hands through them a thousand times on the way over. His eyes flick across your face like he’s checking to make sure you’re real. Like he didn’t quite believe you’d actually answer.

He looks tired.

You swallow. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he echoes, voice low.

There's a silence. Tense. Tight. It stretches between you like a rubber band pulled too far.

“I wasn’t gonna come,” he says eventually, shifting on his feet. “Told myself you’d call. That I’d give you space.” He pauses. “But I waited. And waited. And you didn’t.”

Your chest aches.

“I know,” you say, barely above a whisper. “I just… I couldn’t.”

James steps past you without asking. You don’t stop him.

He makes his way into your flat like he always has- it’s muscle memory. Like he belongs here. And God, maybe he does.

“I’ve been losing my mind,” he says suddenly, turning to face you. “I thought we were okay and then it’s like you disappeared. No texts. No calls. Like it didn’t mean anything.”

“It wasn't supposed to mean anything, James.” you snap.

He flinches, like you’ve slapped him. You immediately regret it.

“I didn’t mean—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“You didn’t mean for it to mean anything,” he says, voice low. “But it did.”

You exhale shakily, crossing your arms like they can shield you from this. “We said it was just a kiss. To prove a point.”

“Yeah, well, that didn’t work,” he says, stepping closer. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since.”

You glance away, blinking too quickly. “That’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not,” he agrees. “It’s not fair that I kissed you and everything changed and you’re acting like it didn’t.”

You hate this. Hate how right he is. Hate how vulnerable he looks standing in your living room like he’s afraid to breathe too hard and scare you off.

Your voice is quiet. “I didn’t know what to say.”

He’s quiet a beat. Then:

“Say anything.”

You hesitate. Your throat feels too tight. But then you force yourself to look at him, to see him.

“I love you,” you say. “And I don’t care if it’s wrong, I just do.”

James exhales, a slow, shaky breath like he’s been waiting for this—like he wasn’t sure he’d ever get it. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” you repeat, firmer now. “I love you and I’ve been trying not to. Because I thought it would ruin everything.”

He steps forward, hands gentle as they come to rest at your waist. “I’ve always loved you, I think.”

It breaks something open in your chest. This is real. This is terrifying. This is everything.

“But what if we mess it up?” you ask, voice trembling.

James gives you a soft, crooked smile—the one that’s always undone you. “Then we mess it up. Together.”

You laugh, a watery, disbelieving thing, before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in.

And when he kisses you this time, it’s not tentative or desperate. It’s steady. Sure. Like he knows you’re his.

Like he always has.

masterlist <3

[illbegottenfaith]

the one where you scold theo for dozing off

a/n - was inspired by this post + a tiktok I saw where this girl was talking about how her boyfriend games till like 3 am with his friends but nods off at like 9 pm with her and all the comments were like girl he's so relaxed w you cuz of how much he loves you and it was all just soooo cute 😭😭 anyways enjoyyy :))

tropes/warnings - flufffff, eepy theo, established relationship, cuddling idk

word count - 830

taglist - @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf @iamheretoread1234

"Teddy."

"Teddy?"

"Theodore."

One hard shove to his sternum later, Theo's eyes flew open.

"'M up - "

You gave him the stink eye as he coughed sporadically, choking on his saliva. You sniffed disapprovingly.

"Honestly, Teddy. I didn't bring you here to nap."

Theo glanced around incredulously. The two of you were sitting on a picnic blanket on the side of a grassy knoll on the other side of the Great Lake. After indulging in some chocolate-covered berries, a sleepy, hazy kind of quiet had descended on the hill in that late afternoon sun. In short, it was a perfectly comfortable setting for napping.

He winced, rubbing at his sternum. "Oh, c'mon. You feed me these - these fuckass strawberries - "

"Don't talk about my strawberries that way!"

" - then you lie me down and expect me to stay awake? It's warm out, cara. I sleep warm. You know I sleep warm."

Scoffing, you lie down next to him, muttering darkly under your breath. Still, you can't resist running your fingers through his hair, gently raking at his scalp. It's an addicting thing, watching the tense parts of his face relax, watching that crease between his eyebrows disappear. Some of your earlier anger dissipates.

“You are so easy,” you tease, fingers still carding through his hair.

“Only for you, amor,” he murmurs, voice low and knowing.

Your face burns. “Merlin, shut up.”

Chuckling, he stretched his arms over his head before letting them fall lazily back down, one draping across your back. He tugged you against him, his warmth seeping into you.

"How is it that you can stay up till 3 am with your friends, but ten minutes with me and you're out like a light?" you mused. You pull your fingers away from his scalp.

"Am I that boring, Theo? Do I put you to sleep?"

Theo huffed a quiet laugh, his fingers ghosting over your shoulder before settling there, warm and grounding. His other hand found the curve of your waist, pulling you just a fraction closer.

"Obviously," he murmured, voice still thick with drowsiness. "You drone on and on - "

A sharp pinch to his ribs cut him off, making him suck in a breath through his teeth. "Fuck - alright, alright." His grip tightened, holding you in place before you could enact further vengeance. "You don't put me to sleep."

Theo's half-lidded eyes fluttered shut again, his breathing evening out. His fingers resumed their slow tracing along your arm, dragging lazy patterns that sent shivers up your spine. As your own eyelids grew heavier, your eyes drifted over the lake’s glimmering surface.

"Actually," you murmured after a beat, pressing your cheek against his chest, "this is quite nice."

Theo made a show of pretending to shove you off.

"I see how it is," he grumbled as you laughed. "When you want to doze, it's perfectly fine, but Merlin forbid I"—he poorly stifled a yawn, blinking blearily—"get a little shut-eye."

You scoffed. "This is different. Even logistically speaking, how am I supposed to drag you back to the castle? You sleep through anything, Nott."

Theo grunted. "And you sleep through absolutely nothing."

You smiled lazily against his chest, knowing exactly what he meant. Many a night, he'd creep into your dorm, taking great pains to quietly shuck off his jacket and shoes, only for you to stir the second the mattress dipped. He’d scowl at you in the dim moonlight as you blinked at him sleepily, voice hushed but teasing as he slipped under the covers beside you. Every single time, he’d scold you for staying up, telling you in that firm, low voice of his to go to sleep, as if he hadn't been the one showing up at your bedside to begin with.

"Maybe you should try staying up with me for once," you said idly.

Theo snorted. "You'd make me watch those god-awful Muggle films."

"You love my god-awful Muggle films."

He hummed, neither confirming nor denying. You tilted your head to look at him, absentmindedly running your fingers through his hair again.

"I just wish you'd save some of that energy with the boys for me."

Theo sighed, long and slow.

"Can’t help it," he mumbled into your hair, fingers ghosting over your arm. "You’re so...warm. And soft. And you smell - " he dropped his head to the hollow of your neck as he inhaled, holding you close even as you squirmed in his ticklish hold, "- like that. Like...home. Like love."

You could sense him dropping off again in the way his words slurred and his voice quieted. He was probably too drowsy to even know what he was saying. For a moment, all was silent except for the rustling that came with the occasional gentle breeze. You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of him pressing into your side.

Maybe you should shove him awake again. But then again…

You nestled closer to him, your own eyes drooping shut.

Maybe not.

[goldfades]

Please please please protective Joe over postpartum wifey 👏🏻

ofcc!! here it is, my love <3

There was a time when life felt like a perfectly thrown spiral ��� smooth, certain, easy to catch. Joe made everything look like that, honestly. Sundays on the field, Saturdays back home, even the lazy Tuesday nights when he’d crawl into bed still smelling faintly like grass and laundry detergent and something that just was him.

You built a whole life on those little certainties. A white house with black shutters. A golden retriever named Beau who never quite grew into his paws. And now, tucked into the curve of Joe’s arm, a baby girl with his sleepy blue eyes blinking up at the world like it was brand new and way too bright.

It was supposed to feel perfect — or at least that’s what all the books and well-meaning advice said. But nobody really warned you about this part. About how raw it would feel, the way your body and mind would shift like continents no one could map. About how tired your bones could get, or how sometimes you looked in the mirror and hardly recognized the girl staring back.

Joe saw it, though. He always did.

He moved through the house like a man on a mission lately, whisper-quiet but everywhere all at once — refilling your water bottle before you realized it was empty, pulling you in tighter at night like he could keep the world out with just his arms. He was careful with you in a way that wasn’t suffocating, but fierce, like he was guarding something sacred and breakable.

And maybe you were, in a way.

Joe was a patient man. He had to be — quarterback wasn’t a job for the impulsive, the hot-headed. It was a role built on timing, on seeing a flash of movement and trusting it, threading the ball through chaos with an almost stubborn kind of calm.

But nothing had ever tested his patience like today.

Because today, for the first time, the guys were coming over to meet her. His daughter.

You were curled up on the couch, fresh out of the shower with your hair damp and your skin soft and flushed. The baby was snuggled against your chest, making those small, content newborn sighs that Joe swore he could listen to for the rest of his life and never get tired.

And he was on edge. Not because he didn’t trust his teammates — they were his brothers, in every way that mattered. But because this — this little piece of the life you built together — wasn’t game film or post-win beers or locker room jokes.

This was you. This was her.

And Joe Burrow, the man who could stand in the pocket while a 300-pound linebacker bore down on him without flinching, suddenly found himself running scenarios in his mind like some half-crazed security guard.

He adjusted the throw blanket over your lap. Checked the thermostat again. Made sure the baby’s little hat was pulled low enough over her ears, even though you were sitting inside with the heater humming low. He hovered, adjusting pillows, bringing you your water bottle with a bendy straw tucked in so you wouldn’t have to move too much.

“You’re fussing,” you murmured, voice lazy and warm with affection.

Joe just shrugged, standing above you with his hands on his hips, chewing the inside of his cheek like he was gearing up for a press conference.

“They’re not gonna hold her unless you say it’s okay,” he said, dead serious. “They’ll wash their hands first.”

He ticked it off like a checklist. “No strong cologne. No loud voices. And if she gets fussy—”

“She won’t,” you interrupted, smiling because you could tell he needed it.

But Joe wasn’t so sure. Babies were unpredictable. Teammates even more so. And Joe? Joe didn’t like unpredictable when it came to the two people he loved most in the whole damn world.

The doorbell rang.

Beau barked from his spot by the window, tail wagging excitedly. Joe shot you a quick look — a silent, are you good with this? — and only when you nodded did he open the door.

Ja'Marr was first in, grinning from ear to ear, a pack of diapers slung under one arm like a football. A few others trickled in behind him — Sam, Tee, a couple of the offensive linemen — all of them with that same reverent, wide-eyed look guys got when they saw a newborn up close.

Joe moved fast, intercepting the herd before they could even make it two steps inside. “Shoes off,” he said briskly, nodding toward the mat. “Wash your hands.”

He pointed toward the powder room like a dad corralling a team of unruly Boy Scouts. There was a second of stunned silence — and then laughter, low and easy, but respectful.

They knew better than to mess around with Joe right now.

One by one, they complied, teasing each other about it but following orders all the same. Joe hovered by the couch while you adjusted the baby's position, brushing a kiss against the top of her head before you offered a soft, “You wanna come say hi?”

Even then, Joe stayed close — a silent wall between you and the door, the human equivalent of a velvet rope.

The guys took turns, keeping a cautious distance, most of them too nervous to even ask to hold her. Ja'Marr cracked a few jokes under his breath about Joe looking ready to deck anyone who breathed wrong.

He wasn’t wrong. Joe’s eyes stayed sharp, tracking every movement, every laugh, every time someone leaned in a little too close. His hand hovered near your shoulder the whole time — not touching, but there, a steady reminder that you weren’t doing this alone.

When the baby whimpered once, just a little squeak of protest at all the unfamiliar voices, Joe reacted before you even had the chance — plucking her gently from your arms with that easy, practiced motion he had already mastered.

“She’s good,” he said, voice a shade softer now, one hand cradling her tiny head as he pressed her to his chest.

The room went still.

It was one thing to see Joe Burrow command a huddle. It was another to see him sway, slow and absent-minded, in the middle of his living room with a baby tucked against his heart like she was the whole playbook and the end zone all wrapped up in one.

You leaned back, your heart stretching wide and aching with it — the fierce, stubborn tenderness of this man you married.

The visit didn’t last long. Joe made sure of that. An hour, tops. No overstaying. No “let’s hang out awhile.” When the goodbyes started, Joe stood by the door again, thanking each of them with a handshake.

After the last car pulled away, he locked the door, turned, and exhaled like he hadn’t breathed properly all afternoon.

You were still on the couch, baby sleeping against your chest again, your head tipping back into the pillows. Joe crossed the room in three strides, crouching in front of you like he needed to be eye level, like he needed you to feel it when he said: “You did so good, baby.”

It wasn’t just about today. It was about all of it.

The way your body had carried her. The way you endured the long nights, the painful moments nobody talked about. The way you fought to smile when your heart felt shaky and raw.

He reached out, cupping the side of your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek with infinite gentleness.

“We’re good now,” he whispered, like a promise. “We’re good.”

You closed your eyes, sinking into the safety of it — the safety of him. Of knowing that no matter what storms came, no matter how unpredictable the world could be, Joe would be right here.

Arms up. Heart open.

Always, always guarding the things he loved most.

[manmuncher777]

Hear me out. Best friend geto slapping our ass as a joke but then we moan. What he gonna do >.<

Hope you enjoy love, sorry it took me so long to get this posted ❤️

CHEEKY

Suguru Geto x reader smut MDNI 18+

It started with a bottle of cheap red and an old stack of board games neither of you had touched in years.

The night came after an idea you had, bored of sitting there watching tv, you wanted proper entertainment. Best way to get that was to play games with your friend, right?

Suguru’s apartment was dimly lit, all warm amber and shadows, the soft hum of low music filtering in from the speakers as you both sat cross-legged on his rug, laughing over another disastrous round of Guess Who? He looked good—annoyingly good for a night in. Black joggers slung low on his hips, loose dark tee stretched across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were pushed up just enough to show the sharp, inked patterns that climbed his forearms.

You were on your second glass—maybe third, honestly—sipping slowly, cheeks flushed more from the wine than the game.

“I swear, you just pick people with hats every single time,” you said, squinting at him over your board. “You’re not even trying to be subtle.”

Suguru grinned, that slow, dangerous one that made his eyes narrow just a little. “And you fall for it every single time, babe. That’s the fun part.”

You stuck out your tongue at him, leaning forward to reset the game pieces. “I’m gonna win next round. Watch.”

He gave a lazy shrug, swirling his own wine in his glass like this was some fancy dinner party and not the two of you drunk in sweatpants surrounded by board game chaos. “Sure, sure. Talk your shit now.”

You flicked a stray token at him, and he caught it effortlessly, smirking. His reflexes were unfair, even tipsy. “God, you’re so smug,” you muttered.

He leaned back onto his hands, long legs stretching out, one brushing against yours like it was nothing. “You love it.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t move your leg.

Time passed in slow, comfortable waves. You laughed until your stomach hurt, argued over game rules, whined when he kept winning. Suguru refilled your glass without you asking. At some point, the game pieces got abandoned in favor of a cozy sprawl on the couch—legs tangled, your head near his shoulder, the bottle of wine now living on the coffee table in front of you.

“You’re warm,” you mumbled.

“You’re drunk,” he said back, amused.

You looked up at him, eyelids heavy. “I’m not drunk. I’m wine-soft. There’s a difference.”

Suguru snorted, but the sound was fond. “Sure there is.”

Silence settled. Not awkward. Just… full. His fingers drummed lightly on the couch cushion, close to your hip. The music changed. Something slower. A bit moodier. Your chest rose and fell steadily, your legs shifting—just a little—until they were tucked under his.

“Hey,” you murmured. “You ever think about how long we’ve been friends?”

Suguru tilted his head to look down at you. “You getting sentimental on me?”

“Maybe,” you whispered. “Or maybe I’m just realizing how nice this is.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just gave a slow nod, eyes flickering over your face. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “It is.”

You watched his mouth move as he said it—slow, deliberate, soft around the edges. And maybe it was the wine, or the way his voice sounded so close, but something fluttered low in your stomach. You looked away.

The warmth between you wasn’t so innocent now.

The wine had gone straight to your head.

You can feel your face flushing under his gaze in that moment, unsure of the feeling that was building in your gut. A familaiar feeling, but never around Suguru. These thought… were anything but normal about him. Your clear your throat lightly, raising your head from his shoulder and pushing on the sofa.

“Another game, the nights not over yet.” You state, walking off to find something else before he could even answer. All you hear is a little chuckle as you walk away.

Your skin prickles with heat as you try to focus on picking a game, but it seems your mind had other plans. A foggy sensation clouding over you as you reminisce over the sound of Suguru’s voice… the way he was looking at you.

Your hands snatched up some random pack of cards, not even bothering to look at the pack to see what game you selected. Shaking your head lightly, as if trying to force yourself to snap out of it.

“You’re cheating,” you accused, eyebrows drawn together as you narrowed your eyes at Suguru over the fan of cards in your hand.

“I’m literally not,” he said, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth said otherwise. “You’re just losing.”

“Because you’re cheating.”

“You always get like this when you’re losing. You gonna throw a tantrum next?”

You scoffed, slouching back against the cushions. “You wish.”

He leaned in, elbow on his knee, wine glass in one hand. “I do, actually. Little bratty tantrum, just for me.” His voice dropped a note, the teasing curling thick around the edges.

Your stomach flipped. You looked at him, jaw slightly slack—just enough for him to catch the way your breath hitched. And that was not lost on him.

Suguru’s grin widened.

“Oh, don’t go quiet now,” he cooed. “You were mouthing off a second ago.”

Your were short circuiting, your mind drawing blanks. The previous fog you had tried to shake off earlier coming straight back now. It like he was now aware of what he was doing. Bringing your back to that state of hazy warmth.

You rolled your eyes, even though your skin was prickling all over. “I just don’t think it’s fair that you keep pulling the exact cards you need. It’s suspicious.”

“Maybe I’m just better at this than you.”

“You’re not better at everything.”

“Oh?” He set his glass down. “Wanna test that theory?”

You paused—just a second too long.

His eyes gleamed.

You shifted your legs beneath you, suddenly very aware of how close he was. Your knee brushed his thigh and didn’t move. “Maybe I will,” you muttered, voice thin with challenge.

Suguru made a sound low in his throat. Not quite a laugh. Something darker. “You keep teasing me, baby,” he said, voice velvet and warning. “Sure you’re ready for what happens next?”

Your eyes locked. That slow, heavy silence crept in again. The kind where your heart starts pounding a little too loud in your ears. His legs were spread, and you were half-curled into the corner of the couch, shoulders turned toward him—like you were already giving in.

You let your gaze flicker down to the dark lines of ink on his forearms, the sharpness of his jaw when he tipped his head, and then—up. Back to his eyes. He looked dangerous. And so fucking calm.

“Don’t go shy now,” he murmured. “Was that a challenge, sweetheart?”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. “I just think you talk a big game.”

He leaned in—slow, smooth. “Oh, baby,” he whispered, “If you wanted me to show you, all you had to do was ask.”

You can feel your resolve slipping second by second, unsure of how to feel. I mean he was your best friend, surely his words shouldn’T be bringing such a reaction out of you

Trying your best not to succumb you force yourself to speak “not sure I trust a cheater.”

“Just admit I won that round,” Suguru drawled, stretching his arms out behind him, the cards scattered across the coffee table like fallen leaves.

You snorted. “Please. You only won because I let you.”

“Right,” he said, laughing under his breath. “Because you’re so good at this.”

“I am,” you said, grinning as you leaned forward to grab another sip of wine. Your arm brushed his again—deliberately this time. “You should be thanking me.”

Suguru raised a brow, eyes flicking down to where your thigh pressed against his. “You’re asking for it.”

“I’m literally not.”

He tilted his head. “You sure? ‘Cause your tone says otherwise.”

You smirked, sharp and bratty. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

His smile spread slow and lazy across his face, dimples sinking deep. “Don’t make me put you over my knee, sweets. Only one way to deal with brats.”

You blinked.

The air went still. Your lips parted a little—like you were ready with a comeback, but nothing came. He watched the blush creep up your throat like a tide. And still, he just looked at you, patient and cocky, like he knew you were caught

Then you snorted, flicking a card at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

That was it.

In a blink, the couch dipped. Suguru shifted toward you fast and smooth, grabbing your wrist and tugging you effortlessly across his lap. A yelp burst out of your mouth as you landed with a thud, facedown across his thick thighs, your ass up—and Suguru’s big palm already resting on it.

“Suguru—!”

“Uh uh,” he said, squeezing. “You wanted to act up, baby? Then take your consequences like a big girl.”

You squirmed, kicking your feet as he held you there with one arm locked around your waist. “I was joking—”

“Too late for that now,” he said, right before he brought his hand down—hard.

The slap cracked through the room, and you let out a strangled moan, more shocked than hurt—but your hips jerked forward like you’d felt it. He did it again, slower this time, letting his fingers linger after.

Red coated your cheeks, shocked not only at his actions, but at the noise you let out. It seems he was equally shocked at your reaction, silence washing over both of you for a moment.

“Oh? What was that baby?” A dark chuckle sounded from above you. “You liked that?”

You couldn’t form an answer, frozen in place. Mind whirling with so many thoughts.

“That’s one,” he murmured. “Now, how many do you think you earned, huh?”

“None,” you panted, trying not to squirm too much. But your voice was wobbling.

“Oh, you really wanna test me now?”

Another spank. Another jolt through your body. Your panties were suddenly way too damp, and Suguru had to feel the way your hips were subtly rolling into his thigh, chasing friction without even realizing.

“Still got that smart mouth?” he asked, low and teasing, running a palm over the heated curve of your ass. “Or you ready to start saying thank you?”

You whimpered.

He chuckled—slow, warm, filthy. “That’s what I thought.”

His palm stayed resting on your ass, warm and heavy, fingers gently kneading the sting he left behind. The wine had your head floating, but it was him—the low hum of his voice, the way he manhandled you so easily—that was making your stomach flip and your thighs clench.

“You’re awful quiet now, sweetheart,” Suguru murmured above you, voice dark and syrup-slick. “What happened to all that mouth?”

You breathed in sharp, nails gripping at the edge of the couch cushion. “M’not quiet…”

“No?” he smirked, dragging his hand down the curve of your thigh, then sliding up between them—until his fingers brushed the thin fabric of your panties, already soaked. “Then tell me what this is, huh?”

A small whine slipped from your lips before you could stop it. His fingers ghosted over the damp spot again, slow and deliberate.

“Fuck,” Suguru laughed softly, leaning down so his breath kissed the back of your ear. “You’re dripping, baby. Just from a few spanks? I didn’t even have to touch you properly yet.”

You squirmed in his lap, pressing your hips down without meaning to. He just tsked, slipping one thick finger beneath the edge of your panties, finding your folds and running it through the slick mess.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, like it physically pained him. “You want me that bad already?”

“Mmm… Suguru…”

The room around your disappearing with each tough, feeling him everywhere. Feeling nothing but him in that moment.

He cant help but groan at how wet your are, his thick digits dragging through your folds, featherlight and teasing. Just watching as you squirm beneath him. Finally behaving just like he knew you could.

He hummed, cocky and unhurried, dipping one finger into you with teasing laziness. “You always get like this when you’re drunk? Or is it just me?”

You couldn’t answer—only arched, chasing more, lips parted in helpless gasps. He curled the finger, watching the way your whole body jolted.

“Thought so,” he purred. “Bet no one’s ever made you feel like this, huh?”

His voice dripped with ego, thick with pleasure at the way you writhed for him—whining, panting, your thighs shaking and your arms barely holding you up.

His finger dipping in and out, pushing deeper and deeper with each relaxed thrust of his hand, feeling your walls flutter around him so eagerly. Your velvety walls begging him not to leave

“Look at you,” he crooned, slipping in a second finger, pressing deep, slow, steady. “So fuckin’ pretty like this. All wet and dumb on my lap. My perfect little mess.”

You sobbed out a moan, legs trembling as he angled his fingers just right—grinding that soft, spongy spot inside you with precision. Suguru groaned at the way you tightened around him.

Pressing his palm into you, bumping against your clit while you do your best to grind down on him. Hips chasing your ever nearing high. Swallowing his fingers over and over again so greedily.

“Yeah, there it is,” he whispered, nuzzling into your shoulder as he fucked his fingers into you. “You gonna cum just like this, baby? Like a good girl for me?”

You nodded, frantic. Your whole body shook with need, overwhelmed, hazy from the wine and the heat and him.

He kept going, murmuring in your ear, “I know baby, I know.” Sultry voice flowing through your foggy brain, bringing you closer and closer to that edge “let go for me”

Unable to deny the feeling any longer, you cum. Legs quivering as he worked you open on his fingers, not stopping as your hips bucked beneath him. Whispering sweet nothings over the cry of his name. His fingers pressing deeply inside of you, like you would never forget the feeling, your walls squeezing him with every wave of pleasure that flowed over you. Eyes screwing shut as you rode out your high

Your thighs were still shaking when he pulled his fingers out, glistening with your slick. He let you hear the obscene sound as he sucked them clean, eyes heavy-lidded and wild.

“You taste so fucking good,” he rasped, voice low and wrecked. “Still think im a cheater?”

[alaia777]

hiii!!! i read your "a boy whos jacked and kind" fic and it was amazing!!!!! could you (possibly) do a pt2 with chigiri, reo, sae, and nagi? (or any other characters you want) ty!!!!

omggg thank u, of course !! 🩷🩷

jacked and kind? — p2

ೃ�� chigiri;

“alright, princess. if you drop me or make me look stupid, i’m cutting your hair.”

“i’ll cut my own hair before i drop you.”

“you’re such a liar.”

you both start laughing as you wait for the music to begin. you’d both wanted to try this trend for a while, but you’d been hesitant, mostly because you were worried he’d hurt his leg. every time you work out together, or even just watch him at practice, your heart beats a little harder, anxious that something might happen to him. he always reassures you that he’s fine—but still.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

when he places his hands around you to hoist you onto his shoulder, he makes sure you’re smiling. he just wants to see you happy. but as you glance down at him, you notice the grimace on his face.

“oh my god, are you alright?”

“yeah, yeah,” he mutters, trying to hold back a wince. “it’s just… you’re sitting on my hair.”

ೃ༄ reo;

“why is it taking you so long to put your hair in a ponytail?”

“can you just be patient?”

you were spending the afternoon at your boyfriend’s place, and honestly, there were so many things you could do in his enormous house. but the only thing you wanted was to try the trend your friend shared with you. it wasn’t hard to convince reo—he’d rather count every grain of sand on every beach in the world than do work for his parent’s company. he was bored and wanted to try something new, and you had just the solution.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you couldn’t help but laugh when you felt him lift you onto his shoulder. for some reason, the mix of his concentrated facial expression and how intently he was staring at his reflection was the funniest thing you’d seen all day.

“what’s so funny?” reo asked, looking up at you.

you just kept smiling, and in response, he dropped you into his arms, princess style, twirling you around effortlessly.

ೃ༄ sae;

“can you smile a little? you look like you hate your girlfriend.”

“you want me to do this or not?”

you wanted to roll your eyes so bad, but the last thing you needed was a snarky comment from sae. after what felt like an eternity, you finally convinced your boyfriend to do this trend with you—despite him repeatedly telling you how stupid it was. it took some careful planning: making sure he was in a good mood, giving him salted kombucha in the morning, getting him some salty seaweed tea, and putting on taxi driver right before he came home. he knew what you were up to, but honestly, he just wanted to get it over with.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you watched as he grabbed you by the hips and hoisted you onto his shoulder. he wanted to roll his eyes, but when he saw you smiling so stupidly, a small smirk tugged at his lips. you weren’t sure if he was smiling with you or at you, but the only thing that mattered was that your boyfriend was playing along—for you.

“well, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” you said, playfully petting his hair.

“you’re pushing it.” he muttered, and without warning, he set you down on the floor.

ೃ༄ nagi;

“this is so bothersome.”

“you know what is going to be bothersome? me making your cactus into soup.”

were you threatening your boyfriend to do this trend with you? maybe. were you actually going to hurt his precious choki? never. and he knew that. yet here he was, watching you move things around the room to prop your phone up and film this video. nagi was tall, sure, but he was also incredibly lazy when he wasn’t on the football field. honestly, you weren’t sure if he’d put any real energy into this.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you waited for him to do something, but when you glanced at him, he was just staring off into the distance like usual. you turned around and waited for him to say something, but it was like he didn’t even notice you were looking at him.

then, out of nowhere, he grabbed you by the legs and hoisted you onto his shoulder. you yelped, completely caught off guard.

“are we done?”

“… i suppose.”

he left the room with you still draped over his shoulder, heading straight for the bedroom. he dropped you onto the bed and flopped down next to you.

“time for sleep now,” he mumbled, already pulling you closer.

ೃ༄ i hope you like it !!!

[kxsagi]

hii are u able to do one where u share wired earbuds with rin, isagi, bachira (any other characters you’d like to do too ^^ ) and try to be sneaky by playing a love song / their fav songs but they notice or wtv

thank u !!

“𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮”

a/n: i love this request because it means i can show off my music taste 😼

writing about music is so fun that i included so many of them (all of them are set during a train ride home after school, where you play their favorite song and they notice)

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, shidou ryusei, chigiri hyoma, kunigami rensuke, kaiser michael, bachira meguru, mikage reo, karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu

isagi yoichi 𐙚 “and there was something ‘bout you that now i can’t remember” 

you pressed play on about you by the 1975, the soft rhythm filling the air between the two of you. as the first few notes hit, you glanced over at isagi, who suddenly straightened up in surprise, a wide smile appearing on his face.

“hold on... no way. this is my favorite song,” he said, his voice almost in disbelief. "i love this band, too."

you chuckled softly, glancing out the window. “really? i didn’t know you were into this kind of music.”

isagi shrugged, clearly trying to downplay it, though his grin didn’t fade. “i have my moments. guess we have more in common than i thought.”

the song played on, the relaxed beat weaving through the train car, and you could feel the growing connection between the two of you. isagi’s gaze lingered a bit longer than usual, his earlier surprise replaced by a more comfortable, almost fond look.

“you picked it perfectly,” he added quietly, the words lingering in the space between you.

you smiled, feeling a quiet warmth bloom in your chest. “i pay attention.”

itoshi rin 𐙚 “my heart, i never be, i never see, i never know” 

you hit play on genesis by grimes, and rin’s eyes narrowed, his focus immediately snapping to the music. 

“this is my song,” he said, more to himself than to you.

you glanced over at him, trying to keep your voice casual. “i had a feeling.”

rin met your gaze, a flicker of something almost soft in his usually guarded expression. “did you? i didn’t think you’d know this song.”

“well, i’m full of surprises,” you said, giving him a playful smile.

he looked at you for a long moment, his lips curling into a rare, small smile. “i see that.”

itoshi sae 𐙚 “i’ll mean something to you” 

when you played nikes by frank ocean, you noticed sae’s reaction instantly. his usually confident demeanor seemed to shift, a soft smile creeping onto his lips as he glanced at you.

“i didn’t think you’d play this,” he said, his voice laced with a mix of surprise and admiration.

you smirked, trying to hide the excitement bubbling inside. “figured i’d try something new.”

sae leaned back, crossing his arms, but his smile never faltered. “you’ve got good taste. guess i underestimated you.”

(any frank ocean song would’ve worked honestly, especially “thinkin bout you”)

nagi seishiro 𐙚 “i could be the one” 

you pressed play on CAN’T GET OVER YOU by joji ft. clams casino, and nagi’s lazy grin instantly turned into an excited one.

“no way, i love joji,” he said, his eyes lighting up.

you couldn’t help but laugh. “i guess we have similar taste.”

nagi shrugged nonchalantly, his grin only widening. “maybe you’re not that boring after all. i’ll give you that.”

the playful jab felt oddly sweet, and as the song played, the easygoing vibe between you two shifted into something more comfortable, like the music had just brought you closer in a way that was almost effortless.

(i see all of joji’s discography with him + “nuts” by lil peep) 

shidou ryusei 𐙚 “i’ll swim down with you”

you chose cherry waves by deftones, and shidou’s expression immediately shifted from his usual cocky grin to one of genuine surprise.

“you’re playing deftones?” he said, almost in disbelief.

you smirked, crossing your arms. “you don’t think i could handle this kind of music?”

shidou laughed, but there was a new glint in his eyes, something deeper than his usual arrogance. “you’ve got taste. i’m impressed.”

the way he said it, with just the slightest shift in his tone, made you realize that there was more to him than his usual brash persona, and something about that felt like a challenge.

(he’s a playboi carti glazer too, it’s canon bc i said so and i’m muneyuki kaneshiro’s daughter/j)

chigiri hyoma 𐙚 “got me tripping, falling with no safety net” 

as the first notes of safety net by ariana grande ft. ty dolla $ign played, you saw chigiri glance at you, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

“this song?” he said, his tone full of disbelief, but there was a spark of excitement there too.

you smiled, casually leaning back. “figured you’d like it.”

chigiri raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips curling into a smile. “guess you know me better than i thought. didn’t expect you to get it.”

catch him falling without a safety net for you.

kunigami rensuke 𐙚 “breathe out, so i can breathe you in”

you pressed play on everlong by foo fighters, and kunigami’s face lit up in recognition.

“no way... i love this song,” he said, his voice full of surprise and appreciation. "even though it got memed like crazy."

you laughed softly, glancing at him. “i figured you’d be into it.”

kunigami leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, a grin forming. “you’ve got good instincts. i wasn’t expecting that from you.”

(mmm he gives me 80’s lover vibes)

kaiser michael 𐙚 “‘cause maybe, close just isn’t close enough”

you pressed play on TBH by partynextdoor, and kaiser’s eyes widened just a bit, his posture straightening as he recognized the song.

“TBH, this is my favorite track,” he said, his tone smooth and almost appreciative.

you glanced at him, a little surprised. “i didn’t know you were into this kind of music.”

kaiser let out a soft chuckle, his gaze lingering on you with an almost teasing intensity. “i have layers, you know? i don’t just listen to whatever everyone else is playing.”

the way he said it made you feel like you’d unlocked a piece of his personality that most people didn’t get to see. “guess i’ve been underestimating you, huh?”

kaiser smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. “or maybe you’ve been paying attention more than i realize.”

bachira meguru 𐙚 “but is there something more than that?” 

the smooth, psychedelic beats of nangs by tame impala flooded your headphones, and you could see bachira’s eyes flicker in recognition. his playful grin stretched wider, and he immediately leaned toward you, his voice full of energy.

“no way, this is my song! i love this track!” he laughed, his excitement contagious.

you couldn’t help but smile at how infectious his enthusiasm was. “didn’t know you were into tame impala.”

bachira shifted in his seat, his eyes sparkling with an almost mischievous glint. “i love tame impala. i thought you’d be all into pop stuff, but... this suits you more than i expected.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “what, you’re saying i have good taste?”

“definitely,” he replied, nudging you lightly. “you’re not just the quiet type, huh? i’m starting to think you’re way more interesting than i gave you credit for.”

mikage reo 𐙚 “all that money, the money is the motive” 

when the morning by the weeknd started playing, you noticed reo’s usual calm expression shift, his eyes softening for just a moment before he turned toward you.

“this is my favorite song,” he said, his voice a little more sincere than usual, almost like a confession.

you met his gaze with genuine surprise. “i didn’t know you liked the weeknd.”

reo shrugged slightly, running a hand through his hair. “i’ve got a few sides to me, you know?” he said with a quiet smile. “i wasn’t expecting you to pick something like this, though. it’s... unexpected.”

you tilted your head, curious. “in a good way?”

“yeah,” he said, his smile deepening as he looked at you. “definitely in a good way. didn’t know you’d get me like that.”

karasu tabito 𐙚 “‘cause i don’t wanna be in love with another”

you chose heavy by the marias, and as the delicate notes drifted through the earbuds, karasu’s usual composed demeanor seemed to soften. he gave you a glance, his eyes narrowing just slightly in surprise.

“this song,” he murmured, “it’s one of my favorites.”

you turned toward him, surprised at how casually he had admitted it. “really? didn’t expect you to be into this kind of music.”

karasu shrugged, his voice softer now. “i guess there’s more to me than you think. i just don’t talk about it much.”

the way he spoke made you feel like you were seeing a side of him that few others did. it was a rare moment of vulnerability that felt oddly intimate, like the song had unlocked a part of him that was usually hidden.

“guess i’m lucky i got to hear it then,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

karasu smiled, a rare warmth in his eyes. “you might be.”

(MARIAS LOVERS WHERE ARE YOU??? i always go back to heavy, but i also love carino, loverboy, ruthless, hush, and calling you back, but jupiter will always be my first song from them)

otoya eita 𐙚 “i don’t even wanna fuck, i just like you”

when you pressed play on lust by chase atlantic, you immediately noticed otoya's expression change. his usual teasing grin faltered for a second, replaced by a look of surprise.

“wait, you’re playing this?” he asked, his voice low, clearly impressed.

you raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your own amusement. “you don’t like it?”

otoya shook his head, a playful smile forming. “i love it... i just didn’t think you’d be into this kind of stuff. and now you’re playing it? well, i must say i’m intrigued.”

you leaned closer, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. “you think i’m too predictable?”

he chuckled softly, leaning back in his seat. “not anymore. guess you’ve got more to you.”

(i also see justin timberlake and bruno mars on his playlist. fetty wap or any JBL speaker music works too)

yukimiya kenyu 𐙚 “merci beaucoup, just like moulin rouge”

you pressed play on sandman by a$ap rocky, the deep bass vibrating through the headphones. when yukimiya’s eyes flickered toward you, you could see the surprise in his gaze.

“this song... no way,” he said, his tone slightly incredulous.

you smirked, looking up at him. “i thought you’d like it.”

yukimiya tilted his head, his usually carefree expression turning into something more serious. “you picked this for me? didn’t know you were so good at reading people.”

you shrugged nonchalantly. “guess i’ve been paying attention.”

his smile was almost teasing, but there was an edge to it, something that made you feel like you were on the same wavelength now.

“maybe you’ll have to share more of your picks with me sometime,” he said, his voice low with a challenge. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[trashytracktales]

GIRL since you write lando HEAVENLY, what do you think are landos “traits” and love languages when he’s your boyfriend? Like when he gives peak peak peak boyfriend husband material 🫠🫠

to me is: morning sex, holding hands, driving with one hand cause the other is on you, taking pics of you when you’re not noticing, commenting your insta with unhinged comments, watching a movie with his head on your lap and you scratching his head and shoulders, slapping your ass out of nowhere when you’re cooking, and all those attitudes that sometimes make him so silly and attached to you that people sometimes wonder if he’s your boyfriend or your sibling

these are things that to me SCREAM lando norris boyfriend behaviors but please 🫠 add more 🫠

Ohhh, dearest anon. You just cracked open Pandora’s box. Every single thing you listed is PEAK Lando behavior, but let me sprinkle in some extra boyfriend material chaos, because the list is endless.

Hugs from behind when you’re doing literally anything + surprise back hug & kisses on the neck because he’s needy like that.

Texting you the most unhinged messages when you’re not together.

LAZY morning sex that turns into three missed alarms because he swore he would get up early, but now he’s unfortunately calling his trainer with a fake excuse.

Taking the most disrespectful candid photos of you (e.g. mid-chew, double chin, half-asleep) and using them as ammunition for your birthday.

He 1000% steals your skincare and hair products.

Wearing your hair ties on his wrist just because it reminds him of you. And sometimes using them to launch tiny projectiles at you when he’s bored.

Making out with you like a horny teenager in random places. Guaranteed.

The type to grab your jaw mid-makeout just to hear you whimper.

He lives to rile you up in any possible way: purposely sticking his cold hands under your hoodie just to hear you squeal, squeezing your thigh under the dinner table just to see you blush, or whispering some real filthy shit in your ear when you’re around people. And then acts innocent 🥺(😈)

He loves watching you get ready. Send tweet.

Can’t think of anything else now, but Lando as a boyfriend is the definition of playful, possessive clingy, and horny with a sprinkle of softness. We are all down bad for that and honestly, it is not a crime!!

[mtchee]

An Honour to be Had - [Genshin Impact SAGAU] GN

blurb:

Imagine, being isaeki'd into miHoYo's most popular open-world rpg gatcha game and discovering yourself to be interpreted as Teyvat's most beloved All-Maker--a God above Gods, with even Celestia in the palm of your hands. You'd read fanfictions--FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY--so when you first arrived you promptly freaked the fuck out and stayed away from any form of civilisation. You'd hung out with the hilichurls and regisvines and other non-human mobs whom happily cuddled up to you and kept you fed, but you didn't stay in one place for long. However, you got lazy in Sumeru, loving the shade and the Aranaras and their music--that was your downfall. But not really, because it turns out you weren't being hunted. Eventually, after accustomising to your odd new life as Teyvat's Beloved (a title which you felt you very strongly did not need nor deserve), someway, somehow, the topic of your love life comes up. Of course, ensues much embarassment on your end, and much excitement from everyone else on the other.

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, teyvat simps over you, you are the most beloved as should be <3, [name] freaking out from being surrounded by such gorgeous people all the time, fluff, Mild Fontaine Quest Spoilers!

| masterlist | genshin impact collection |

next.> [GN 18+ MDNI] afab! ver. | amab! ver.

[3.1k]

Being the Beloved of Teyvat--you could not very well agree with being 'the Creator' seeing as you very well did not code and encrypt and design genshin, though you didn't deem yourself its 'beloved' either but whatever, you win some you lose some--was incredibly overwhelming.

Particularly at first, after having been fearful for your very life and sanity and then being thrust into the limelight of literally the entire world, but you've learned to make do.

Though at times still, it was intimidating. Constantly dining on only the finest, wearing the rarest (and sometimes impractical) jewels and cloth (of which now you've put on hold until festivals), and living in an ethereal estate situated in the middle of the waters bordering the lands of Liyue, Sumeru, and Fontaine.

You're duties--which, admittedly, was a slow learning process for you--consisted of overseeing the people of Teyvat. At first, you'd often times be thrown into the deep end with various meeting from Liyue Officials, Sumeru Sages, Inazuman Leaders, and all the like, wherein you kept to yourself unless directly spoken to (which was... all the time).

Eventually you'd eased into the life, speaking up for yourself and declaring the authoritive entities for each nation capable of their acts, henceforth relieving you of such meetings unless absolutely necessary.

Really, you just got bored and all the important politics and finesses they talked about stressed you out.

You were still given many reports to oversee, along with an almost never ending number of letters from both important figures and common folk whom hoped to either wish you well or seek audience with you.

Unlike in historic transcripts, this time (apparently) you'd decided to take a more hands on approach in your duties. This being adventuring the lands and meeting with the people in person.

Honestly though, your social anxiety killed you but you were too meek to say anything much about that. Besides, it got you out of just slinking around the esate (castle? Palace??) so, whatever.

You don't think you'd ever be able to wrap your head around the whole 'our holy creator' thing though.

If this is what being famous was like, you didn't want it.

You had no idea what these people liked about you, enough to keep worshipping you even after meeting normal old you in the flesh.

But... that wasn't for you to decide, you suppose. Odd as it is.

"Your Grace~"

You jerk up at the sudden voice, almost loosing your page in your surprise.

You look up to see Venti smiling at you with closed eyes and his familiar carefree smile, and you close your romance book with a light hum in acknowledgement.

"Lunch is served~ Come, come! The picnic's been all set out now!"

Your shy suggestion of a day out in the forests of Inazuma had been clearly heard and happily granted, wherein the Yashiro Commision itself volunteered to make themselves available to cater to you.

You dusted yourself off from the grass and make your way over with the unnecessary help of Venti clinging to your arm. But he looked so happy, so you didn't compain.

Having made your way past the tree line from the cliffs and into a natural clearing, you were surprised at the number of faces whom you saw.

You spot Zhongli, Ningguang, the Traveller (Aether), Paimon and Tartaglia, and Nahida and Kaveh alongside Tighnari, Cyno, and Nilou. Lisa and Kaeya were chatting over a glass of champagne, with Diluc and Jean politely keeping to themselves. The sight of Furina and Neuvilette gave you whiplash--you figured the latter would have been much too busy with Fontainian matters.

You think you spy Xiao keeping an eye on things somewhere in the trees.

What shocked you moreso was also the appearance of the Yashiro Commision representatives themselves, Ayaka and Ayato, accompanied by their ever helpful housekeeper, Thoma, and Yae Miko and Ei.

The small crowd gave you the jitters before Venti dragged you into the centre of it all, guiding you to a purposefully situated pile of pillows to sit on.

You follow graciously, bowing your head politely at everyone with a quiet greeting.

Everyone else regards you with much more flourish before taking seats themselves. Many other pillows were scattered around, though you saw Itto (who somehow managed to crash in) happily laying on his side on a grass edge.

You place your book on a pillow beside you, thanking Zhongli when he passes you a plate of fruits he's noticed you'd come to favour.

"Thank you," You start slowly after moments of deliberating how much courage you had left for the day, "for organising this. Uh, especially on such short notice. I really wouldn't have minded just setting things up myself."

"Think nothing of it, your Grace," Ayato inclines his head towards you with a warm smile, "it is our utmost pleasure, I assure you."

You nod slowly, "Mm. And... thank you, all, for uh, coming out, as well. You certainly didn't have to."

You sweatdrop slightly, glancing towards Zhongli who sips his tea contently without a single worry. You don't doubt he was the one spread the word, given his proclaimed title as your most devoted.

"Nonsense!" Kaveh bows towards you, "I'd accept any invitation to spend time with you, your Holiness."

Itto lets out a belch after downing one too many tri-flavoured skewers.

"Yeah! Besides, we love having you here!" He grins unabashedly.

You bite back a smile behind a glass of fonta. Itto is funny.

You spot Tighnari narrowing his eyes at him from his lack of manners. You snicker through a bite of sushi.

Yae Miko spies the book beside you and hums, "Oh? Is that a book from my publishment?"

You side eye the item, not so subtly pushing it behind you with a small nod. She doesn't let up.

"Ah, one of our better known romances! How delightful~"

You can't help but feel embarassed at the proclamation, shrinking at the number of eyes that snap to you with interest.

"You like to read, your Grace?" Neuvilette tilts his head curiously despite it being more of an observatory statement than a question.

"Yeah, it's a nice--pastime, of mine."

"Oh? What types of genres do you prefer?" Lisa inquires from her place on a decorative, plush euro cushion.

"You know," Yae leans forwards with a mischevious glint in her eyes, "it's implied that the types of books people read are what they desire, particularly in romance."

"Is that so?" Nilou blinks innocently, and Yae Miko hums affirmatively in response.

"Oh, how lovely!" Nahida claps her hands, "your Grace, what types of romances have you read? Which ones appeal to you the most?"

The eagerness of her expression makes you feel bad if you don't answer, but the expectant looks of the others makes you reluctant. You take an obnoxiously large mouthful of yakisoba and motion at your inability to speak.

"Or is it the love interests that intrigue you the most?"

You want to deadpan at Kaeya's implicit undertone.

You roughly swallow your mouthful of food, just managing to avoid borderline choking on it to dismiss everyone's prying, "It doesn't really matter."

"On the contrary!" Venti grins cheerily, "I'm sure it's safe to say that most of us are very curious about our Grace's most intimate interests~"

You eye him wearily before slowly shrugging--there isn't much to tell. Prior to your iseaki'd life you didn't really care to mingle, instead prioritising your studies and friendships over romantic relations. You'd heard that some people had the occasional crush on you, but you never really explored your own preferences.

And fictional characters do not count.

So, like hell you'd say anything about them to them.

"Uh, well, don't get excited. I don't really have anything to tell."

"What do you mean, your Grace?" Ei's gentle prying has you shrugging once more, "have you not previously aquired a suitable consort?"

"But your Holiness," Venti gasps dramatically, "you must have had plenty of suitors!"

You wince at his loudness, stressing over his words. Would they think you pathetic? Would they believe you to be a prude? Or that you had some sort of twisted whore like behaviour?

"N-No," You sweatdrop, "I don't think anyone had been interested in me long term, and I was more focused on my pursuits than anything."

"Truly?" Yae Miko hums, "then surely now you must be at a stage of yearning, yes?"

"I mean, I-I guess..? Wait. No--" You feel a sense of dread wash over you as soon as the words leave your lips. You didn't really even mean them in the first place, you just wanted her to drop the topic--

"Oh! Your Grace is looking for a spouse?" Nilou brightens, clasping her hands together estatically.

"Hang on--"

Diluc raises a brow, "Is that really any of our business?"

"--this isn't--"

"As their most trusted acolytes, yes, indeed it is," Zhongli sits up straighter, amber eyes glowing with a sharp (if not determined) glint, "it is my, moreso yet, our duty to ensure our Dearest Beloved has only the best whilst simultaneously adhearing to their needs and preferences."

"Then wouldn't it make sense for our Creator's beloved to be one of their most reliable acolytes?" Tartaglia's words strike a chord within the group, each individual going still while you sit there stressing on top your pile of pillows.

It wasn't long after that picnic when the news of Teyvat's Beloved seeking a partnership broke out. The incident spread like wildfire, alongside information about your less than experiences.

While some were awed at your purity, more made speculations about your witholding until your chosen, and others praised you for your prioritising your duties over oneself.

It really wasn't that deep, but whatever.

Soon enough scholars and akademics from everywhere began debating on the choice of your potential spouse, namely between yours closest and most faithful acolytes.

One of the archons would be the most obvious choice. Each with their own nation and wider prospects, the only subjugation between them and you was celestia--of course you'd pick one of the Seven!

The strongest contender was Liyue's Rex Lapis--one of the remaining from the original. Known by many revered names, whether it be the God of Contracts or the God of War, Morax is and always had been without a doubt one of the Creator's most devoted.

He is known to be one of (if not the) most attentive to you, at your beck and call however you please. And though your wishes are so too his without question, he is also most discernable with his wisdom and experience. Should you need a guiding hand or a pliant ear, both your caretaker and your spear, Morax is your first choice.

The Electro Archon's dedication to you is undoubtable, as proved with her ideals towards eternity. While some argue it is only her recent disposition that sits her in legence as a suitor, others agree that having the Raiden Shogun by your side is a clear sign of strength and resolve.

In this, many agree that having her as your chosen would very well place her people at ease. Your connection to Beelzebub implicates a more personal approach to her duties, solidifying the nation's current state of peace and leaving the Sukoku Decree as history.

Aside from Mondstadt, many were skeptical about the Anemo Archon's potential to being your chosen. He's an inactive Archon, and whimsical in nature. To Mondstadt however, it does make some sort of sense for him to be a suitor.

After all, what is freedom if demanded by a God? In this comes the freedom of choice. Barbatos, in his presence, while inactive, has never abandoned his people. With him as your lover, you are guaranteed both flourishing love and solidarity. He won't be your pillar, but he will be the gentle wind caressing your cheeks, and the refreshing breeze leading you forth and easing your worries.

The Hydro Archon, while technically no longer their Archon, is still up for debate as a suitor. While some disapprove of her being a choice, like the others, her devotion to you is absolute. Unlike the others, Furina is moreso a celebrity to her people than a figure of worship.

Choosing Furina signifies a life of luxury and limelight. Entertainment is her forte, so keeping you light-hearted and well loved would never be a problem with her as your chosen! With that, your relationship would establish a stronger presence of a God amongst people, exceeding beyond your duties as the Creator.

If not an Archon, mayhaps one of the nations Officials?

How about Mondstadt's Acting Grand Master?

Jean is very meticulous in her work, and incredibly diligent. Living up to her name as the Dandelion Knight, Jean is steadfast and strong willed without lacking empathy. Aside from her tendency to overwork, with you she would without a doubt find a way to better manage her time.

Not only would you teach her to treat herself kindly, but she too would reveal to you the love and care any mortal could only dream to have the privilege of showing their Beloved.

Liyue's Ningguang is another strong competitor. She has all the funds and luxuries she could offer teyvat's Divinity, with her you would no doubt be bathed and lavished in everything the land could possibly offer.

Though some of her time might be torn towards her work, her attention would be yours so long as you so much as breathe for it.

Many believe that none other than Inazuma's Yashiro Commissioner would be the most suitable choice. In a matter of both wealth and diligence, Ayato Kamisato has it all. Without a doubt would he cater to your needs and preferences, worshipping you as you deserve.

While his work is of utmost importance, his heart belongs to none else. Plus, the people of Teyvat can rest assured of your person's protection thanks to the Shuumatsuban.

But don't disregard Sumeru's Acting Grand Sage, Alhaitham.

Although aloof and forthright, Alhaitham offers much more than meets the eye.

Though he lives humbly, he holds much wealth to look after and spoil his Beloved. In addition, his work ethic and nature deems him quick to return to your side from whatever he was called away for. Effecient and effective, Alhaitham holds a much deeper admiration than he lets on.

This is evident through his attentiveness and intimidatingly accurate deductions and observations--though, that just makes him all the better choice for a suitor.

Now last, but certainly not least, Fontaine's Hydro Soveriegn, Iudex Monsieur Neuvillette.

Despite his reserved lifestyle, many have noted his gentle nature, particularly when in the company of the Melusines. With this, alongside his reverence in court, he is labelled as another much suited choice for their Grace.

Bound to live a fulfilling life in Neuvillette's care, his worship of you is evident, ensuring you a reliable shoulder and adoring partner should he be chosen.

If not any of them, well, you still have plenty of faithful acolytes to choose from!

Mondstadt contains many delegates and powerful influences. After all, Master Diluc is known as the city of freedom's most eligible bachelor. Strong and independent, aloof but not apathetic, Diluc would be sure to take care of you, whatever you may want or need.

Cavalry Captain Kaeya is another suitable candidate, alongside the Favonius Knights' Librarian, Lisa.

Both are romantic in their own rights, with Kaeya you're bound to be wine and dined with a side of suave sweet nothings, whereas Lisa offers a peaceful night in with open windows and flustering praises.

Outrider Amber is a well known face in Mondstadt! With her, your days would never be gloomy, the girl would do her utmost to keep you well taken care of and happy with your spontaneous adventures!

Looking at Liyue, there are many of whom desire your holy praise.

Within the bustling city is Keqing, Ganyu, Baizhu, and Yelan--all of whom would rightfully drop their work and serve their most Beloved to their utmost.

Outbound towards the plains and cliffs are the adepti pladged to Liyue, particularly, Xiao and Xianyun. Although they are in oath under Rex Lapis, even his orders may be overruled in favour of a simple contented sigh from their Grace.

Similarly in Inazuma, you have many at your beck and call.

Yae Miko is one of the strongest candidates in this area, closely followed by the Yashiro Commission's Shirasagi Himegimi, Kamisato Ayaka. Both are respectable figures, though with vastly differing attributes to cater to their Beloved's preferences.

Perhaps the Tenryou Commission's Kujou Sara, or the Divine Priestess Sangnomiya Kokomi? Moreover, there's General Gorou, and Inazuma's renouned detective Shikanoin Heizou. Even the young, wandering samurai Kazuha from the former Kaedehara Clan.

If you so truly wished, there is also the infamous oni, Arataki Itto, alongside the ever skillful Kuki Shinobu and Thoma--all of whom would stop at nothing to ensure their Grace's happiness and comfort for all their days.

Sumeru is certainly not short of devotees.

Take the ever illustrious Kaveh, who would spoil you with the sweetest words one could utter with his dedication to you, or the ever shining Nilou, who dedicates her elegant arts to you.

So too would many others be of suit to stand by your side: Cadance, Deyha, Tighnari, and Cyno, even the every so prickly Wanderer would be awed as your lover.

As it is in Fontaine, the people readily introduce Navia as a suitor, even the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide has proved to be a potential partner! Despite his intimidating stature, his ideals and desposition deem him worthy.

Ignoring public scrutiny, those within the Fortress positively root for their warden; Wriothesley would no doubt be one of the best suitors for their Creator.

Outwardly, no one really addresses Snezhnaya on the matter, but even then they have to admit that while no one other than that nation wants them to be chosen, they are indeed rather suitable candidates.

The Tsaritsa, for one. Formidable, strong, steadfast and ambitious, however, her people know her to be elegant and, while icy, her cold touch is known to sooth those of whom she cares for. Aside from Rex Lapis, and if not for her underground state of affairs, she would surely be one of the most preferred suitors.

Each to their own, even the Harbingers harbour the potential to be their Beloved's chosen. With the Eleven playing to their utmost strengths, the main few with the strongest potential are Pantalone, Il Capitano, Arlecchino, and Tartaglia.

But overall, that's all only to name some of the strongest contenders to be their Grace's chosen!

Oh boy...

[cheqorb]

Sotto Voce.

Gaslighting everyone into believing you’re a really shit footballer because seeing people be impressed by your sheer lack of skill is more fun than being a genius.

FEAT. Bastard München ensemble

NOTES. uhhaua cross posted on ao3 but ajyway, thought this idea was funny and because of this lingering feeling of sadness i haha managed to Complete this?? Gosh im beside myself with worry!!

WORD COUNT. 2.2k

Isagi thinks he might be seeing things. Maybe all the relentless training in Blue Lock has finally caught up to him, leading him into a football-induced delirium, because he can’t quite comprehend what he’s looking at right now.

You’re moving across the field with a fluidity he’s only seen in pro-level players, doing tricks and turns he’s pretty sure aren’t even in his playbook. You glide past the defence, controlling the ball with a finesse that’s nearly supernatural — hell, he thinks even someone of Rin’s calibre would be breaking a sweat to try and keep up.

And you look bored while doing it. Eyes half-lidded, posture almost lazy, as if this is just another walk in the park and not you showing off world-class football technique.

Isagi’s mind races to make sense of this. You’d always been, well, normal to him.

Sometimes you’d play in a match, most other times you’d sit out on the sidelines. And he’s usually pretty sharp about these things, so it must’ve been because you just… didn’t stand out.

Yet here you are, pulling off flawless plays with little more than a mild yawn, as if winning against the top players here would barely register on your radar. Maybe it’s just luck, some freakish one-off, right?

… Nope. You just drilled another perfect goal into the top corner of the net.

He snaps out of his thoughts only when you suddenly stop mid-play, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, there’s a flicker of panic in your gaze and he opens his mouth, not even sure what he’s about to say.

“Y/N-”

You’re stomping towards him before he can even process the whole thing, your pace quicker and more full of menace than he’s used to seeing on you. You stop just short of him, tilt your head slightly, and in the calmest voice, say, “You saw nothing.”

He tries to stammer out something, but you leave soon afterwards.

────

Tripping over the ball is harder than it looks, but after enough practice, you’ve perfected the art of falling in a normal fashion. To most people, it’s convincing. Prior to a few days ago, you’d say all people but there’s a certain someone who entertains himself by boring holes into the back of your skull with an intense, unblinking stare.

You can feel it. Isagi waiting for you to slip up.

Actually slip up, instead of the falls you’ve gotten so good at imitating. It’s detestable, honestly. You’re trying to keep things as they’ve always been, and he just wants to come in and mess with the status quo!

Luckily for you, Igaguri’s too much of an idiot to harbour the same suspicions. Right now he’s too busy practically doubling over with laughter on the floor. The guy is probably thrilled to finally see someone playing the fool even more than he does. And as much as he’s a pain, he’s also the kind of person who makes perfect cover — play the role of an idiot, laugh it off with him, and everyone’s none the wiser.

So, in spite of your (what most would call) vindictive description of him, you do believe that some sort of strange pleasure is to be gained from surrounding yourself with people like him. Though perhaps that also makes you a terrible person.

The feeling is nothing like the rationale that Noa preaches about so often. It’s an undeniable truth in your heart.

Which is why you avoid the people who actually know what they’re doing on the field like the plague.

Yukimiya, on the other hand, is way too polite to laugh outright. He at least has the common sense to stifle it, reaching out a hand to help you off the ground with a quiet charm that makes people swoon. No wonder he’s a model.

Now, the imaginary audience in your mind might be wondering why you’re talking with a guy like him? Your answer: he’s not as notable ever since he patched things up with Isagi. He’s now the kind of person you can talk to without raising any brows. Again, it sounds harsh but you see it in a positive light. He’s becoming just the kind of person you adore most!

“Try and keep a close eye for stuff on the ground, alright?”

You flash him a grin, nodding. “You know me, just a total klutz all the time,” you reply as your usual happy-go-lucky self, making sure to project just loud enough for Isagi to hear.

And out of the corner of your eye, you catch that familiar look of suspicion deepening.

────

The silence that follows is brutal. Hiori and Kurona exchange a look that’s way too long for Isagi’s comfort. After finishing whatever telepathic debate they have with each other, they both stare back at him like he’s just pitched the most psychotic theory imaginable (which isn’t entirely untrue).

“You don’t believe me, do you?” he mutters, deflating a bit.

Hiori’s quick to reply, but Isagi is aware of the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “It’s not that we don’t believe you. But, ya have to admit, it’s strange to hear Y/N… of all people, doing something like that.”

That’s code for what the fuck are you talking about, Isagi concludes with a grimace, his eyes shifting to Kurona hopefully.

“Crazy. Crazy.”

Kurona’s tone is deadpan, his gaze distant as if he’s trying not to laugh. Great.

Isagi sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. Maybe he is the one who’s going crazy here. It shouldn’t even bother him this much. It’s not like you’re particularly close! If anything, he can barely remember a conversation between the two of you that went beyond asking if you’d seen so and so.

And, judging by the responses he’s getting from both of his teammates, neither of them can figure out why he’s fixated on this either.

────

Noa is going on and on about practice drills, how to follow his instructions precisely, something about rationality and technique, blah, blah, blah. You stifle a yawn. If this is what being in one of the top clubs means, you should’ve begged Ego to be in Barcha instead. At least Lavinho would’ve been fun.

You hear his coaching style isn’t by any means phenomenal if you’re trying to improve your skills, but good thing you’re not planning on doing anything of the sort!

And just when you think you might actually pass out from boredom, you see Isagi walking over. Again. He’s approaching with that same cautious look, but it’s not enough to make him think twice about bothering you apparently. That’s also something that bugs you, he’s never a quitter.

You flash him an oblivious smile. “Oh, Isagi! Whatcha up to? Need anything from little ol’ me?”

You lay it on thick, voice dripping with cheerful innocence. His jaw tightens, and for a second, you swear you can see a flicker of annoyance on his face. That’s new. Your words have the opposite effect than what you had originally intended.

“Listen, I know what I saw, alright? You’re not fooling anyone.”

He launches into a whole spiel about how he’s seen you pull off moves that only high-level players can pull off, how he doesn’t care if it’s part of some large game you’re playing, how you should be using your skill to distinguish yourself.

…You really don’t give a shit, and in regards to his comments, you personally disagree! What’s the fun in doing all of that?

You tilt your head, pretending to think it over with wide, guileless eyes. Sure, you’re a little flattered he’s this invested in uncovering your “secret,” but the other 99% of you is totally unhappy.

When he finally wraps up his little speech, you just give him a half-hearted shrug with a smugness that he doesn’t miss.

“And who’s going to believe you?”

────

Kaiser likes to think of Isagi as predictable, average — someone who might fancy himself a hero but is ultimately just another small-time player waiting to be crushed. It’s almost laughable how seriously he takes himself. In fact, the only thing remotely worth mentioning about him recently is this bizarre fixation he seems to have developed on you.

He’s overheard your exchanges, and in short, they’re pathetic.

Isagi rambles on about how you’re hiding something, clinging to that delusion like it’s going to benefit him somehow. The psychology-lover inside him finds it almost fascinating in how utterly absurd it sounds.

So, when Kaiser spots you chatting with the ever despairing Grim (laughing so hard you have to hold back tears), he figures it wouldn’t be wrong to call you at least a little insane. Part of him wonders what humour could be found in the man’s deplorable monologues.

He figures he might as well join in on the entertainment. You’re far from his usual company, but you’ll do. For now. Moseying on over, his signature smirk is already in place.

He’s rewarded by the way your eyes immediately narrow in irritation, a look he’s all too familiar with and thoroughly enjoys on anyone really. Grim, blissfully unaware of what he’s leaving you to, heads off, and now it’s just you and Kaiser.

Leaning in closer, he asks, “What little secret of yours has got under Yoichi’s skin so badly?”

Kaiser waits, watching for the faintest flicker of reaction but you stay silent. How boring.

But! Not one to give up easily, he continues with a more direct jab, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. The one where he acts like he knows everything there is to know about everyone. “That you’re really skilled, and this whole clueless act of yours is just a cheap facade?”

He raises a brow, as if daring you to admit it. To his delight, you lift your head, finally meeting his gaze albeit with an uncomfortably polite smile.

“I was just surprised you’re interested in something like that. But, Isagi’s a total liar. Isn’t he just so annoying? I can’t stand people who just don’t know when to give up, and I’m sure you agree.”

It’s not often someone catches him off-guard, and though he recovers quickly, the flicker of surprise is still there. Kaiser also sees opportunity however. He could work with this.

“Well, if you’re not a fan of Yoichi then feel free to join my side then,” he drawls, offering the position like it’s a dream come true. In his world, he’s already the star; what better way to elevate himself than to recruit someone.

“Ah, no. You’re both terrible.”

He can’t tell what’s worse; you lumping him together with Isagi, or the fact that you immediately walk off without giving him a chance to get the last word in.

────

“It’s like asking me if I prefer cat shit or dog shit. It’s still shit, and there’s no point in picking one over the other.”

You toss the comparison out to Kiyora, of all people — a bit of a waste since he just stares blankly at you, not saying a word. Pretty cute, actually, in a clueless sort of way.

The reality is that, at the moment, if you want a shot at the regulars, you’re supposed to cosy up to either Isagi or Kaiser. And as for everyone else? They’re can either fuck off or pray for a miracle.

Of course, you couldn’t care less about making the regulars. But every now and then, you forget there are people around you who do care, people with actual ambitions. Which is why you pause when you catch sight of Hiori and Kurona.

“Oh, Hiori and Kurona,” you point out the obvious.

They both glance your way, casual and relaxed, which gives you the impression that Isagi hasn’t roped them into his latest paranoid theories. Yet.

“Are ya heading back to training already?” Hiori asks, his soft voice and accent making it sound more like an invitation than a question. There’s a kindness to it that’s almost unsettling here in Blue Lock, but you return his smile with one of your own nevertheless.

Kiyora gives a small nod. “Yeah,” he says, brief and to the point.

You’re half-considering some excuse to slip away and do your own thing, but there’s something about the way Hiori is looking at you that draws your attention. Unlike Isagi, he’s way better at hiding it, but you can still feel his curiosity prickle under your skin.

You give him a lazy smile, leaning into the idea. “I’m already so tired from this morning’s training,” you lie, exaggerating just enough. “Honestly, going to bed early sounds great right about now.”

Morning training was barely enough to get you sweating, just a couple of warm-up drills for the afternoon matches. You doubt they have any clue what you’re talking about, which is exactly how you want it.

There’s a quiet pause, and then Hiori breaks it with a gentle but firm nudge. “Well, if yer looking to get on the regulars consistently, training more could be worth a shot.”

You force a smile that probably looks more akin to a grimace. This is exactly why you don’t like smart people. They poke and prod until your story frays at the edges. He definitely asked that on purpose! With a heavy sigh, you end up walking with them toward the pitch, despite every nerve in you screaming to veer off.

You can’t help but wonder if this is a test.