#bad news is once its over tomorrow begins

[vampyretaemin]

horrible day thank god its almost over 🫡

[thatdeadaquarius]

sagau with the language barrier issue except... the creator is sick and tired of trying to ask for things so they do everything themself.

and it gives their followers mass anxiety bc they can't even ask what you're doing... bc they know they won't understand anything...

SUCH A GENIUS NARVI 10/10 GOOD WORK SORRY IM SUPER LATE BUT THIS IS *chefs kiss*

Like, that's literally how I feel like I first played Genshin LMAO

Also this has a cont. Part 2 at the bottom bc tumblr fucking hates me UPDATE I FIXED IT THANK FUCK

Paimon was like "and then we go to Mondstadt- ! NO, not Wolvendom, to Mondstadt! NOT THE THOUSAND WIND TEMPLE WITH ENEMIES OUT OF UR LEAGUE, ENTER MONDSTADT FOR THE FIRST TIME BEFORE U EXPLORE THE REST OF THE MAP!! >:("

SO MANY IDEAS YET SO LITTLE WRITING SKILL GUYS HELP-

Also warning this is ROUGH in terms of spelling and editing and im so sorry abt that! I have my art show today so you're welcome to come back if you want to see it a little more readable tomorrow lmao

Edit Update 4/6/23:

Revised and fixed all the bad spelling and grammar (hopefully) so make sure to give another read if you havent read the cleaned up version lol

I dont have a beta reader so its just me trying my best ok-

Everything was like kinda chaos tbh at first

WOW- MY FIRST 1,000+ NOTES POST??!?! U GUYS, WHAT ARE R YOU DOIN??!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IM GLAD U GUYS ENJOYED IT SM!! Also look out for more encoded stuff in the future since i mentioned wanting to continue stuff like this + ARG stuff :) <3

Edit 9/7/23: 2,000+ NOTES?? THANK YOU???

Like u wake up under the Irminsul, and u think ur hallucinating a goddamn gacha game for like a solid 5 minutes, or ur lucid dreaming, 

but once u actually took what felt like hours to process that u might actually be in fucking Genshin Impact-

Nahida came running from, somewhere?? Its kinda just very floaty dreamy in here so, unclear, she’s beaming with a giddy little smile (💘)

It’s… so much more than what her game model could manage.

I mean, you knew that, of course you did, but- to see the tiny goddess smiling in person, her cute chubby arms waving in the air, her cheeks all plump with baby fat from her excited smile, pretty green eyes that sparkle only in the way excited toddlers do-

It was just…wow. 🥺

You can’t help it, her sheer carefree excitement, exactly like a child but you know that she must be really overwhelmed with joy if shes letting herself act like that so blatantly, you feel ur muscles tug gently into a smile, you try to muffle it but ur happiness leaks out anyway

She's panting as she stumbles on short chubby legs to reach you.

After just staring at you with those big green clover eyes for a few seconds, she physically shakes her head to knock herself out of it,

Nahida places her hand over her heart, and bows elegantly, going back to looking at you with a small but bright smile, her voice is kind of quiet, muffled in a soft way, much like her game depiction,

“Hzozn! R'ev yvvm dzrgrmt gl nvvg blf! R wrwm'g gsrmp blf dlfow wvhxvmw fmgro R dzh zg ovzhg z uvd gslfhzmw bvzih low!” *

…Nahida begins to look a little concerned… her eyes get impossibly bigger.

…Oh no.

♧

Nahida had apparently quickly spread the news that you can’t understand them, but luckily it seems like all the characters still know you!

Alhaitham is pretty much a constant by your side, you knew he was vaguely studying linguistics in the akademiya… but that knowledge still didn’t prepare you to be intensely stared at with his diamond pupils for hours. 💀

Then he’d tap your shoulder or something, and you quickly picked up that he wanted you to just try and say something.

Then he would scribble for hours.

Turns out they can understand you about as much as you understand Teyvat language (s? You can’t even tell if there are multiple languages, that’s how unrecognizable this language is, damn)

The more extroverted or friendly people, like Venti, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Jean, Noelle, Amber, Xingqiu, Hu Tao, Zhongli, Ganyu, Barbara, Beidou, Collei, Ayaka, Gorou, Nilou

At least attempt to talk to you, and try very hard to watch what you gesture with your hands or body language

They're pretty much ready to play charades at all times for you lol

Interestingly enough, they only ever understood you when you typed in the chat (with other ppl)

But even then not immediately, 

Sumeru scholars basically had to make a whole new department (regardless of how much you play with others) to decipher your ancient language (to them) like those old clay tablets with cuneiform we’re still translating?

Like that, your words appear in elemental magic heavy places (so like that abyss lang. It’ll appear on walls or structures, so like Andrius’ stone colosseum? in Wolvendom gained some of your chat replies inscribed and glowing a rainbow of colors on the top edges of the walls)

Much like the abyss language you see throughout genshin, most Teyvat scholars (across nations/internationally) agreed your language is the oldest form of language known!

It’s like modern languages having roots in older ones, like English with Latin, greek, or German roots, or Sanskrit and the Prakrit for Hindi language today

…so of course no one really speaks the root languages anymore, because they’re so old, so those ancestors who spoke those languages would have little to no understanding of their modern counterparts…

◇

Occasionally if you turned your mic on for whatever reason there would be a gentle whisper on the winds in Mondstadt of your voice,

or your laugh in the waves washing ashore in Inazuma and Fontaine,

your startled noises or screams from battling bosses mixed with the landslides in the mountains of Liyue

So they know what you sound like, but that doesn’t mean they understood your language :/

Nahida had been hoping that you’re actual physical form being here would help improve the language barrier

But unfortunately, those things remained the same, but at least you were physically here to talk to now and give more content for the scholars to study rather than them having to make do with your snippets of language from chats

…so needless to say, it took you a long time to realize they viewed you as a god of sorts.

You kind of knew something was up when at least two allogenes were by your sides at all times, or eremites would replace them if they really couldn’t stick around

You figured they knew you weren’t nearly as combatant-ready as they were at all times, hell you obviously didn’t have a vision hanging off you somewhere, and you only really had a knife strapped to a belt, courtesy of the Thirty Corps

You are still kind of convinced that the people of Teyvat, or Sumeru at least, are just pretty polite (and in the allogenes case, very kind or friendly, even people like Alhaitham or Cyno, resting bitch faces they have, seem to soften a little when they’re walking around with you… maybe you’re just imagining it…)

And as much as you would love to wait until they understand you to do something more fun, as you can see the frustration on Tighnari’s face (and his ears try to flatten back hehe) as he looked like he was debating heatedly with some of the Sumeru sages who insist you stay in the city

…so why not go?

It’s not like they’re going to get it anytime soon, and it’s still too frustrating for yourself to charade things or draw things for them because you can’t even hear their guesses 💀

You can totally handle being like the traveler too, 

You still have access to your inventory afterall! Plus, lucky for you, you still find a pass for the Serenitea Pot in your little pocket dimension!

So now you have somewhere to sleep at night, and while most of your stuff went to the traveler’s pack, the things like Primogems

(which.. Okay now you really want primogems bc theyre so pretty and shiny irl)✨️

And other high-level things, or just objects of no use for the traveler (so basically all your hoarded level up stuff and infinite amount of weapons lol) came along with you

So you did have to wander the first week or so around the city and even commission the Adventurer’s Guild to grab you food supplies to cook with

Filling up, along with a few big waterskins, you’re off!

...and everyone collectively has a heart attack!

◇

When you show up in Ghandaraville essentially all “✨️💖☺️✨️” on Tighnari’s doorstep-

He chokes on the tea he’d been sipping on before he opened the door lol

He looks a little frazzled so you try to just gesture with “calm yourself small animal” energy with your hands

“Tivzgvhg Oliw! R'n- R- sld wrw blf-?! Mvevinrmw, xlnv rm, xlnv rm, ivhg! ...R mvvw gl hvmw z nroorlm ovggvih mld gl ylgs gsv vmgriv xrgb lu Hfnvif, gsv Zxgrmt Tizmw Hztv, zmw gsv Nzgiz nlhg orpvob…” he began out looking at you and talking and gesturing to his small dining table (the game sucks, his house looks great and has lots of cool rooms filled with interesting plants… oooo…so pretty...) 

But then he kinda just devolved into rambling, no need to understand, you can read the vibes and just know that's what he's doing lol

Collei eventually ducks in, and she looks a little panicked?

She’s quickly followed by Cyno, pushing past her to call out into the house,

His voice seems hard and stressed, looking at Tighnari, “Grtsmzir, szev blf hvvm gsv Tivzgvhg Oliw zmbdsviv, gsvb dviv hvvm xlnrmt gl Tszmwziezeroov ozhg-” 

Cyno stops and blinks.

Collei’s mouth is slightly dropped open, she also just, blinks.

You blink. 

Tighnari blinks tiredly, he looks like he’d rather be done for the day, you think.

The doctor sighs, and moves his head to nod towards the other dining seats.

◇

Sumeru foods are so much better looking in real life, and they’re so good too, your practically bloated by the end of dinner, 

As a thank you, bc u cant say it obv, you just gesture for Tighnari to stay sitting, and he gives you a raised eyebrow and a suspicious ear twitch

But stays still, and you reach out to finally hit the eight-pointed star hovering over his, and all playable characters chests at all times.

Like you suspected, it brings up a holographic character menu, but rather than his full model, it kind of hovers in front of Tighnari’s face, replacing his old 3D model self with framing the real thing for a portrait just in front of his face

The poor Denro user nearly jumps a foot out of his chair as he looks in shock at your screen, you do the same “chillll boy” gesture with your hands and press his shoulders for a second to remind him to not run off or panic

Cyno and Collei had done the dishes and put up leftovers, and are now standing behind Tighnari, watching with equally wide eyes,

“...Dszg ziv gsvb wlrmt gl blf?

Cyno’s voice is even deeper and quieter than usual, you feel goosebumps run up your spine

“Ziv blf tvggrmt yovhhvw, Nzhgvi Grtsmzir?!” Collei’s sweet voice is also hushed like she’s witnessing something sacred, Tighnari gently shakes his head negatively in response, his shoulders shrugging,

“Nzbyv? R uvvo... z orggov hgilmtvi, zmw nb Erhrlm rh zxgrmt fk zh dvoo…”

Though he’s replying, Tighnari’s eyes haven’t once left your ancient magic? technology device? hovering in front of him,

and as he crosses his arms and squints to try and look closer at everything floating in front of him, you can see the childlike gleam of awe in his green eyes, (so cute) in fact, now that you glance up and look, both Collei and Cyno have the same quietly excited and fascinated sparkle in their eyes too

With a displeased sneer, you chuck his old level one bow into the material grinding spots, hope he wasn’t attached to that…

Oh well, he’ll like the new one better, afterall, with no characters, all your best weapons and artifacts are ready to use!

With a small smile of reassurance, you finally finish gearing Tighnari up, tap a miniature version of that 8-point star in the corner like an “X” button, and it retreats like a classic TV set📺 turning off into his chest, he startles but then carefully stands

You decide to just start making decisions bc its worked out so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And grab his hand and haul him out into the forest, Collei letting out a surprised squeak, her and Cyno hurrying after

You reach the nearest clearing, and gesture at Tighnari like a bow and arrow firing, he gets it, and your glad he already trusts you, because he doesn’t take long to summon his bow

He takes aim at a smaller tree about two cars length away

You can feel them all holding their breathe, as Tighnari charges it with Dendro, the arrowhead glowing, (it looks so cool and badass irl god you feel envious even tho ur already here-)

The ranger lets it fly, it streaks neon green, whistling through the air, it hits the tree-

and it fucking explodes.

Vines and leaves and the trees roots all rapidly swell like theyre filled with water, like it literally got hit by a superhero with plant powers, which, not that far off actually.

The green floating Dendro seeds make a ring around the tree its so full of elemental energy-

You give a wild grin, you still got it, hell yeah. >:)

Your grin widens as you look over at Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno

Cyno has a smirk lighting up his face, eyes eager, Collei’s jaw has dropped and she’s just frozen staring as the tree finally settles from the burst of the dendro powered arrow

…Tighnari has lowered his bow, and his mouth is only slightly open, his ears perked straight up into the air, shaking with excitement? Happiness? Interest? You don’t know how peopl-animal-hybrid ears work,

and you STILL cant talk to any of them to ask what they thought, so looks will have to do >:/

Tighnari is the first to move, his head snapping over to look at you, the brightest, kinda feral tbh, smile taking over his face-

“Blf pmld, dv xzm'g fmwvihgzmw blf, zmw blf fh, bvg R xzm'g dzrg gl hvv dszg rm gsv dliow blf'iv tlrmt gl wl mvcg. Blf'iv znzarmt."

… and you just 🙂? Cool!

And give a thumbs up👍LMAO

☆

Bonus:

Alhaitham was literally running around Sumeru City trying to find you when you left, tho you did try and leave a translatable-in-3-to-5-business days-note, he didn’t have time to translate that because you were gone.

Or worse, lost in the city, and he would never forgive himself if he lost you, esp as Acting Grand Sage-

Kaveh got a letter a day and a half later from Tighnari letting them know you were having a sleepover in Ghandarvaville lol

Kaveh also had to hunt down Alhaitham to give him said news, then force his roommate to go sit or lay down for the rest of the day to recover lmao

(Haitham honestly kinda freaked Kaveh out bc he’s never seen him that... desperate, it was like seeing a statue emote lol)

♡

ARE YOU KIDDING WE ALMOST HIT LIMIT AGAIN?!

Bro has anyone else had this problem???

I literally had to switch from PC to mobile and copy and paste it there to get all my shit in and tumblr not throw a hissy fit???!!!

FUCKING TUMBLR- SUCK MY BIG FAT- 👹👹 UGH

ANYWAYYYY SO I FINALLY CAVED 

And started doing ciphers for when you dont get teyvat’s language! I meant to do something fun like this for awhile but I wasn’t sure if that would be kind of annoying, but if you’re interested in learning what they actually say (which the whole point of this is that dw it doesnt rlly matter lol) here’s a hint:

*hint = Atbash

:> good luck!

Wish me luck on my art exhibition today!! Then I’ll be homefreeeee 😭

Safe Travels,

💀♒

♡ the beloveds ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

[hawnks]

Alpha!Nanami/Omega!reader

Word count: ~2,800

warnings: a/b/o typical sexism, abuse of authority (from side character), mention of leg injury

……………………………………………………….

He brings the storm with him.

You learn him in whispers, along with a bevy of myth and rumor. He drifted here from the East. His clothing has been mended at least a dozen times, but his shoes are sturdy, expertly crafted. He makes no noise when he walks — hardly any noise at all. Rōnin, not samurai. And you can’t trust a man with no honor.

He killed his old master, I heard.

No, he was exiled.

Maybe he killed his master because he was exiled.

“He’ll be gone tomorrow once the rain lets up,” the innkeeper says, cutting off all further speculation. “Now, mind your work, not the guests.”

Beside you, someone grouses, “He chose a funny season to wander, if he’s afraid of the weather.”

…

The rain does not let up.

It puts everyone in a sour mood. The streets turn viscous and tacky, the air brutally cool. You draw the short straw, sent to fetch the days meat in the early morning, a long trek to the fishmonger that leaves you drenched down to your underwear.

It takes twice as long as usual — you lose your sandal a few times in the muck — and when you arrive the stand is vacant. The old man had come down with pneumonia.

Frustrated, you take the long way home. They can wait for the bad news, and you’re so soaked a few extra minutes won’t make any difference. You catch the eye of a few of the daimyō’s men, leering at you from beneath awnings, snickering as you walk by.

“Wanna hear a joke about wet omegas?” one of them calls to you.

You grit your teeth and keep walking.

You deliver the news about the fish to the innkeeper at the door to her room, so you can dart out again before she has a chance to say anything. God forbid she sends you out on another errand.

Soaking, furious, you change into your uniform, and begin your shift at the tavern.

The work is tedious, but decently lucrative. You like to talk to travelers, learn what’s happening beyond the boundaries of your town. It’s hard to put into words what you get out of this, hoarding information like you’re starved for it. Maybe the sheer notion that there is someplace else. That this town and its people are not the only things in the world.

The comfort of knowing away is still possible.

You expect to ask the rōnin the same, starry eyed questions, regardless of how the other server is avoiding him. It might even be enough to salvage this shitty morning.

But you don’t get a chance to ask him where he’s from, what he’s seen. You open your mouth to say something, and choke on air thick with the scent of wisteria.

He meets your gaze.

He won’t look away.

Your wet hair drips on his table.

You can’t feel your fingertips.

Shoving yourself away from the table so hard it rattles against the floor, you excuse yourself in a mumbled tumult. You recruit the other server to take over your tables for the rest of the morning. You must look as awful as you feel, because she doesn’t even question it as you retreat back to your room, throw yourself under the quilt. Close your eyes and pray for your heart to settle.

The one thing the gossip didn’t prepare you for — an alpha.

…

Another day of storms. Another morning you draw the short straw.

Another day you limp home through the mud, empty handed.

The soldiers don’t leer today. Instead, the daimyō is waiting for you. It feels like he’s always waiting for you, that he could swoop in any moment, as quick and ruthless as a hawk.

He’s said he could follow your scent straight to you, no matter where you’re hiding. Sometimes you believe it.

He’s leaning against a wall under an awning, but you know the casual stance is deceptive. He can be fast when he wants to be.

He calls your name, an inferred order to come.

You pretend you didn’t hear, keep walking.

He’s standing straight now arms at his side. Ready. Your insides feel leaden. It takes all your willpower to keep moving forward. To disregard an alpha is one, painful thing. To disregard the daimyō is simple insanity.

Water blurs your vision. You can’t tell from the corner of your eye what expression he’s making. Sometimes he finds your insolence humorous.

Sometimes not.

Just a dozen feet further and you’ll be at the bend in the road.

“You should greet me,” he says. Quiet, but you’re so hyper-vigilant, there’s no way you could miss it.

“Good morning, My Lord,” you whisper to your feet.

He doesn’t step out into the rain, but his voice follows you around the corner. Teasing, condescending. “That’s a good omega.”

He could kill you for your bad manners. A servant, ignoring their lord. No one would question it, no one would dispute it.

But then — he would be killing the only omega in the whole town.

As much as he resents your disobedience, he would resent the loss of you even more. An alpha must have an omega, he told you. That is his right.

Chin tucked and scurrying, you don’t realize you’re on a collision course until you’ve already run into the man. The impact sends you tumbling to the ground.

Through the buffer of the downpour, it takes you a minute to recognize him. His scent.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he says. “I apologize.”

He bends to offer you a hand up. You just stare at his outstretched palm. Silent. Reeling.

You wait for him to give an order. Demand you take his hand, or that you come to stand on your feeble legs all on your own. It’s simply an alphas nature to wield their power like a cudgel, to bend everything and everyone to their will.

And now you have two of them to deal with.

Another moment of stillness. Your breath steams. Your pulse drowns out all other sounds.

He kneels.

Like this, on the same level, you can see the color of his eyes. So perfectly brown they’re almost black.

“Are you alright?” he says.

His voice is staid and calm. Not demanding. Not cruel. It — confuses you. You don’t understand what he wants from you.

You rise to your knees, shoving him with all your strength. He doesn’t budge. He remains solid and upright beneath your hands. You can feel the muscle, the innate strength. He’s warm, beneath the wet clothes. So incredibly warm.

You wonder if he could soothe your chill. You wonder if the touch of his bare skin would burn.

With a gasp, you tear away, appalled and mystified by your own reaction.

He stays kneeling as you rise and step away. He stays as you rush home, the scent of wisteria heavy in your lungs.

…

The innkeeper is displeased with your performance, of late. She gives you a stern warning that you shouldn’t let your “licentious nature” interfere with work.

“I don’t know why I agreed to take an omega on,” she sighs. “Not like you’ll be around for much longer, anyway.”

You wince. “Am I fired?”

The old woman laughs. “No, no. Not yet, anyway.” She waves at you, a full body gesture. A reference to the omega in you. “You’ll be wed to His Lordship soon, anyway. You won’t have to worry about the toil of work anymore.”

You excuse yourself shortly after.

…

The days are a monotony. Even the fear is so commonplace you lose track of it. The daimyō grows impatient with you. He calls to you from the shelter of the awning, each time a little bolder, a little less demure about his intentions.

“You know, I have a bad habit of breaking my things when I get bored of them,” he tells you. “I wonder what other tricks you have to keep me entertained.”

You hang your clothes to dry every evening, and the drip becomes a steady cadence, like the ticking of a clock.

This is your life.

The rain.

The rain.

The rain.

…

The decree is issued that afternoon. Marriage.

You’re to report to the royal estate before sundown, along with everything you own. You will not be coming back.

You pack your bag; you take the road out of town. With the city at your back, you’ll have to pass through the outskirt woods. Then across the river, a dangerous gambit when the water is this high, but that just means you won’t be followed.

You can’t imagine the consequences if they catch you.

The path grows looser the further you go, the mud deep, silt as slick as ice. Arduous and exhausting. And dangerous, too.

You don’t realize your footing is off until it’s too late. You slip, land badly. You cry out before you can stop yourself.

You struggle to your knees, get one of your legs beneath you. A shock of pain has you tumbling down again.

You can’t stand. You can’t run.

Just moments after you fall, a shadow overtakes you. And a man, looming, familiar, crouches before you.

“I heard your voice,” he says. “Can you walk?”

You shake your head, timid, overwhelmed.

“Pardon me,” he says, before hefting you up into his arms.

The ease he does it with is startling. An alpha’s superior strength.

He brings you to a small hunting cabin. Clearly abandoned, but decent enough. It’s dry, and a small fire is going in the hearth.

There’s no furniture except for a rudimentary pallet, which he sets you down on.

“May I?” he asks, hands hovering above your stockinged leg.

He takes your silence as answer enough, unrolling the material gradually, trying not to disturb your injury. He inspects it briefly, pressing carefully. You wince, he stops.

He reaches for his bag, retrieving a small tin. “Your ankle is sprained,” he tells you. “You should return to town in the morning.”

“I need to leave,” you return absently. “I have to get past the bridge.”

He frowns.

“The bridge has collapsed. The river is impassable.” He had tried to leave that morning, only to face the same dilemma. He considers you leg. “Besides, you won’t make it very far.”

The reality of your situation dawns on you, a slow tide of dread.

You missed your chance. You’ve lost your only opportunity at freedom.

You yank out of his grasp, dragging yourself across the floor, to the corner on the far side of the cabin.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you—“

“No. No.” You gnash your teeth at him, feeling wild with fear, unable to see past the dark curtain of it. “I have to go. I can’t be trapped in here with you.”

He raises a hand, a placating gesture, but all you see is motion, canting toward you. An alpha. A threat.

You grab whatever is closest. You throw it at him.

The stick doesn’t even hit him, but that doesn’t stop you. You throw everything within reach.

He just waits for you to give up, but soon enough he realizes how stubborn you can be.

“Enough,” he says. His voice fills the shack, not loud, but indomitable. The undeniable command of an alpha. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would appreciate if you would offer me the same courtesy.”

You drop the stone you were going to hurl at him, suddenly incapable of aggression. You feel — groggy, but less terrified now. Very nearly calm.

His pheromones, you realize.

The notion that he’s using them on you should incense you, but you can’t muster it. You close your eyes, exhausted.

Eventually, after long minutes of tepid silence, he murmurs, “I was here first, you are aware of that, right?” His tone is almost — sullen.

And for some reason, that very human show of petulance is enough to thaw you.

You laugh.

You can’t stop. You laugh so hard it’s hardly laughter anymore. It’s so intense it makes your ribs hurt, brings tears to your eyes.

It feels like the first time you’ve been able to think clearly in weeks.

When you finally calm to a few soft hiccups, you lay down and throw your arms out. Passive.

“Alright, swordsman,” you say, “Fix me.”

He’s slow to approach you, cautious of another rock coming at him. But you remain still.

His touch is gentle, so soft it’s like he’s barely handling you at all. He retrieves the tin of salve you kicked out of his hand, and begins to apply it. It’s cool, slightly astringent. Beneath that, the scent of wisteria.

His fingers are just as warm as the rest of him.

It’s over before you can get used to the sensation of him touching you. He pulls away, returns the tin to his bag. “That will help with the swelling. You should still avoid putting weight on it until it heals.”

“Thank you,” you force yourself to say.

You think you hear him chuckle.

…

Night blooms, full and dark.

Despite your anxiousness, the waiting has grown tedious. Unbearably so.

“Is there anything in that bag to alleviate boredom?”

He glances at you for a moment. Hesitating.

Finally he reaches inside, pulls out a small binding. He passes it to you.

A book of poems. You recognize the shape of the sentences, some of the words. You wonder what use a swordsman has for literature, but the swordsman is full of surprises evidently.

Th pages are worn, the edges soft from thumbing.

“I can’t read,” you say. You look at him. Expectantly.

You hold the book out. He takes it, slowly, gingerly.

He reads.

He’s not much of a performer, although you didn’t expect him to be. It’s clear he’s not used to reading aloud, but he knows these passages well. He’s tone is even, with little inflection. The words come out perfectly paced.

They’re love poems. Not flowery or decadent, but earnest, gentle.

It seems at odds with what you know of him, what you’ve assumed from his status, both as a rōnin and an alpha. You’re not sure what to make of him anymore, how to reconcile the image you built of him in your head and everything you’ve witnessed here.

His swords are leaned against the wall beside him, sure proof of a history of violence.

The question comes, unbidden. “Have you ever killed someone?”

He pauses, glances at you. He searches your face for something, the fear that should accompany those words. But your expression is blank.

Silence, fraught with the tense memory of how you ended up here. What were you running from? Why? He must understand, to some extent. No one reaches desperation without pretext.

“Yes,” he says, simply.

“If I asked you to kill someone,” you murmur. “If I paid you…”

The implication feels enormous within the tight confines of the cabin.

“I don’t believe that’s what you want.”

“What do I want?”

“To not be put in a position where you have to make that kind of decision.”

That makes something in your chest feel tight, on the verge of snapping. Another thing you can’t wrap your head around. Another emotion you can’t name. Uncomfortable, but not frightening. Not like before.

You feel displaced, unmoored.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I’m not being nice,” he says. “You need help. I’m in a position to provide it.”

And that seems wrong to you. Just because someone has the means doesn’t mean they’ll offer them, certainly not freely. Especially not when someone is a such a burden.

“I’ve never met an alpha who’s kind to an omega just for the sake of it,” you say despite his denial.

He mulls that over for a moment, head cocked as he decides how to respond.

“I didn’t know you were an omega until tonight,” he says, quietly. “I had my suspicions, but…”

“Were my bountiful charms not enough to tip you off?” You snort at his blank expression, too polite to disrespect you with an answer. “Why now?”

“Your scent. It’s…subtle. Easy to miss, especially under these circumstances.”

“What do I smell like?”

He smiles, for the first time since you met him. It softens his severe features, makes him look younger. Less world-weary. “You smell like rain.”

He continues reading as the sky continues to churn, until you can hardly keep your eyes open, just barely holding on to the soft thread of words.

“Sleep,” he says gently. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Despite yourself, you believe him.

[silverstonesainz]

reader never really celebrates her birthday so what do you think lando would do?

ps tomorrow is my birthday and I’ve never really celebrated it so lol 

happy late late birthday nonnie. i'm sorry this is so late. but i hope your day was everything and more 🤍

how lando had managed to fuck up a store bought cupcake was beyond him. he could almost laugh it weren't for the fact it was nearly five in the morning and he hadn't slept a wink yet. there was blue icing all over his hoodie– hell there was more icing on his hoodie than on the goddamned cupcake.

he groans softly, swiping his index finger against the fabric, swiping up the icing and leaving a stain in its wake. lando slides his index finger against the edge of the chocolate cupcake, trying to salvage the icing and make it pretty again. in the end, his finger was stained blue and the icing is left a lumpy mess.

in hindsight, he should've bought a couple extra just in case this would happen. but to be fair, he didn't think he'd fuck it up this bad.

he scurries through cabinets and drawers, looking for the pack of candles he bought earlier in the week frantically. your alarm was about to ring and he need to be ready otherwise–

"lando?"

he freezes in his spot, drawer of silverware half open. he looks up to see you, eyes glazed with sleep and your body draped in one of his hoodies. you rub your eyes, call his name again beckoning an answer to what he was doing up so early in the morning.

"you're not supposed to be up," he says hushed, "why are you up?"

"you move so loudly." you begin to walk over to him, arms outstretched and ready to hold onto him.

but lando holds his palm out, "stop stop stop!" you jump at the volume, stopping in your tracks. your boyfriend sighs, "sorry. just. turn around."

"why?"

"too many questions. turn around."

you frown, turning in your place and listening to him rustle through the kitchen once again. lando slams drawers and pushes through cooking utensils roughly. you almost want to help him, hell you try, but lando begs for you to just wait and hold on.

lando finds the candles in a drawer with tape and scissors. he rips the package open, hastily pushes the candle into the mess of blue icing and the already not-so-cold cupcake. he lights it, and slowly, walks over to you. "okay turn around."

when you turn, you see him and the mess he's left. the kitchen is littered with crumbs and blue stains. and lando was worse for wear, with his tired smile and curly hair in disarray. he holds a cupcake with a candle up for you, half the icing on his new hoodie and the other dropped haphazardly back on the cupcake. it's obvious he tried to make it look nice, but the boy could only do so much.

"happy birthday bean," lando says softly.

but he does enough. does everything just right.

[hyuckwrlds]

>> just like this

wc: 551 walk with you

It was a bad idea to go out tonight. It was a bad idea to respond to Chenle’s text at midnight and it was a bad idea to meet him when you work early tomorrow morning.

It was even worse idea to go without a jacket.

Because now, you’re stuck trying to keep up with him while he books it towards some new restaurant down the street, your arms wrapped around your body in an attempt to stay warm. Your flimsy, old sweatshirt wasn’t any help and while you could’ve asked him to turn back, you don’t. After seeing his excitement over a plate of fried rice, you figured that a few minutes in the cold wouldn’t hurt anyway.

“How much farther?” you ask, tugging the cuffs of your sleeves over your hands.

“It’s two more streets—” he starts, pausing once he sees you. He stops completely. “Where’s your jacket? I told you we were gonna walk there.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine—”

“You’re shaking.”

“I can hold out for another ten minutes.”

“No, you can’t,” he scolds, looking down to fish something from the pockets of his sweatpants. “Here, take my heat pack. I’d give you my hoodie but I’m not wearing anything under it.”

He offers you the item and you take it, sheepishly. In the months you’ve known Chenle, you rarely get to see this side of him. You would’ve expected him to be making fun of you by now but instead, your cheeks are burning at his concern. Your gaze falls to your hands and you turn the heat pack between your palms.

“Does that help?” he asks, earnestly.

You look at him after a moment. “Chenle.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s cold.”

He blinks, reaching out to take the pack and feel its surface for himself. His brows furrow as he mumbles. “I swear it was still warm just a second ago.”

“It’s okay,” you breathe, waving it off. Bouncing on your feet to generate some heat, you gesture back down the street. “Let’s just keep walking. I’ll be okay once we’re inside somewhere.”

You start walking again, taking a few steps ahead of him before he calls your name, stopping you in your tracks. Something in the air shifts when you turn to look at him, though you can’t tell what. He stands in the same spot. 

“We’ll be late—” you begin.

“Give me your hand.”

“Huh?”

Without saying anything else, he walks over to stand in front of you and holds out a hand. You don’t make a move right away, so he gently takes your wrist. His gaze meets yours with a tenderness you’ve never seen from him before and when he laces his fingers with yours, you let him.   

He raises a brow. It’s an unspoken question asked before he tucks your intertwined hands into the soft pocket of his hoodie. Something in your chest alights with warmth.

He swallows. “Does that help?”

For a moment, you consider yourself lucky that he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating. You nod. “Yeah.”

The start of a smile tugs the corner of his lips and as he leads you back down the street once more, your hand nestled tight in his, you decide that maybe things aren’t so bad, after all.

[corvuscryptid]

Last Day of Summer

Word count: 1468

Ford Pines x GN! Reader (no gender specification)

Age 5 (Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey)

          Today was the last day of summer before your first day of Kindergarten. You were quite nervous to say the least. To celebrate your last day of freedom, your mom decided to drag you to the beach to look for seashells. The ride over to the beach, you ride in the backseat, the windows are rolled down and upbeat, dancey music can be heard from the radio. Once you had reached the beach, your mother parks the car and helps you grab the towels, a mat, two matching straw hats, and a bucket.

          “You think we’ll find anything cool?” You ask your mom, doubting your luck on today’s excursion.

          “I am most certain we will,” she says and looks down at you with a smile. “If you believe that we will find something cool, then you’ll find it easy to be amazed by what we find.”

          You take in her words, quietly, both of you taking off your flip flops to begin the trek to the water in the sand. The sand is powdery soft and it almost burns your feet from the sun. The sky is a gentle blue and dotted across the horizon were puffy white clouds. You hear the gentle breathing of the waves grow louder as you and your mom arrive at the shore. She lays down the mat and shifts her gaze to you.

          “Now (Y/N), I need you to stay in sight of me, okay?”

          You nod, heeding her words. “I won’t leave your sight Mama.” You say, grabbing the small metal bucket as you scamper away, in an attempt to find shells. You are walking for a while— gaze trained on the ground before you find yourself smacking into another kid your age. You are met with captivating brown eyes as you glance up gaze at the ground. You jump back and find two identical pairs eyes staring into your (E/C) eyes.

          “Hi!” You say, excitedly. “Sorry for running into you.” You say, sweetly to the pair. The one you knocked into had a bandaid on his cheek. Both boys are flush in the face, as if they weren’t used to being acknowledged in a respectful manner.

          You are met with a silence. “My name is (Y/N).”

          “I’m Stanley,” the one with the bandaid says. “This is my twin brother, Stanford.”

          You peer at Stanley, curiously, and you can see that, without a doubt, the two boys are identical in appearance. However, Stanley makes confident eye contact with you, while his brother, Stanford, sheepishly keeps his gaze on the wet sand in front of you, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

          “It’s really nice to meet you.” You say, a smile finding its way to your mouth. Friends are never a bad thing to be in excess of in Glass Shard Beach. Stanley beams proudly and offers you his hand to shake— mirroring the action you’ve seen countless adults adopt. Stanford opts to not shake your hand, although he offers you a sweet smile, the cleft in his chin adorned by the beautiful grin that finds his face.

          “We’re starting Kindergarten tomorrow in Ms. McGucket’s class.” Stanley says, with the grin still on his lips.

          “No way!” You say, excitedly. “That’s my class! I was worried I wouldn’t know anyone.”

          Now, it is Stanford’s turn to smile. “That is good,” the boy says in a quiet voice. “I was scared that I would only have my brother as a friend.”

          You can’t help but beam. “We can all hang out together and spend recess together!”

          Stanley giggles and Stanford smiles. You look at each brother, carefully. “What are you two up to anyway?”           It is Stanford’s turn to speak. “Well, actually,” he begins. “We are looking for an adventure to embark on.”

          You marvel at the boy’s words, (E/C) eyes locked onto his brown ones. “What kind of adventure?”

          Stanford doesn’t even hesitate before saying, “We’re gonna find the Jersey devil!”

          You pause, looking at both boys. Stanford is beaming, and Stanley is looking away, sheepishly, like he was embarrassed.

          You had heard of the Jersey devil, but thought it was just a rumor, you said as much to the boys. Stanley nods and Stanford is the one who pipes up, “We have heard from friends that their possessions have started going missing. We wouldn’t have started looking into it, but our parents are also missing jewels in their pawn shop.”

          You take in Stanford’s observations, inquisitively, reflecting on your own experiences. “I don’t have any interactions with the Jersey Devil, but I would love to help you both.” You say with a soft smile on your face, especially if it meant that you could keep the two boys around.

          “Technically speaking, the cryptid is supposed to live in the forests, but Stanley here wanted to go to the beach!” Stanford says, and shoves his brother, playfully, as he says his name.

          “My mom took me to the beach to celebrate the last day of summer.” You tell the boys and glance back to find your mom, who is reading a book while lounging on the beach mat. “I wanted to find something cool or pretty shells, although friends are probably better to find, anyway.”

          Both the boys smile widely at this, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Two new friends to march into the school year with was something to be proud of. “Well, if Stanford is right and the devil won’t be here, I suppose we could help look for shells.” Stanley says, with a toothy grin as he eyes your empty bucket. “Whattaya say, Fordsy?”

          Stanford becomes beet red at this, which only caused Stanley to laugh and grin harder. You marvel at Stanley. “You have the brightest smile I have ever seen.”

          Now it is Stanley’s turn to redden. “What?”

          “I just think you look nice when you smile.” You say, laughing. You turn and start looking at the ground, trying to find shells. Stanford chuckles at his brother’s speechlessness. You guess that this doesn’t happen that often. You walk a little way away from the Pines brothers, but you can hear that they both follow you. “Ooo, look at this purple one!”

          You show it to both boys. They peer at the purple lion’s paw seashell that you hold gracefully between your index and thumb. Stanley plucks it from your hands and puts it close to his face, turning it around. He does the same thing for his brother.

          Thirty minutes later, your mom glances up from her novel. There you were in your matching straw hat, eyes on the sandy ground with two young boys. She smiles, happy that you seemingly made some friends in your short time here. Her eyes flit back to her book, feeling more confident in you with your search partners.

          “I think I found a cool one!” Stanford excitedly announces, running over to you. He is holding a beautiful conch shell in near perfect condition. Your eyes catch something else, though.

          “Woah!” you shout. “How’d you get extra fingers, I want extra fingers!”

          Stanford is the color of wine at this point. He drops the conch shell which lands on the wet sand softly. He clasps his hands behind his back again, eyes trained on the ground. You sense the change in his attitude, and you know that you have done something wrong. Biting your lip you walk beside Stanford and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I should have not said anything.”

          Your eyes meet Stanley’s who is looking at his brother with pity. He offers you a smile, but you don’t return it. “Sixer here gets made fun of a lot for his hands. He is already pretty insecure about them.”

          Stanford nods, wordlessly. “I’m sorry. I saw and just was amazed. I have only seen people with five fingers, you must be rare! I just got jealous cause like, I want more fingers!” you say, moving your arm to frame the back of his neck, bringing him closer to you. “I don’t want this to hurt our friendship at all.”

          “You think my hands are cool?” Stanford says, incredulously.

          You snort. “Well, duh! You’ve got to be like real good at holding stuff. Plus like, I wish I was special like you.”

          Stanford meets your eyes, and this is when you notice how close you two are. “You think I’m special?”

          You smile softly, and say matter-of-factly “Most definitely, and mostly because you’re my friends.”

          You didn’t notice but Stanford takes his hands from behind his back. “Thank you.” He says quietly and moves away from you. “Now let’s look for some more shells!”

[judeisbae]

Melt genre: fluff Based on Kehlani's song, "Melt" warnings: slight smut (under cut) Sweet moments :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

╰┈➤

"I can't tell where your hair ends and mine begins.." "Love we've been in bed for hours", Jude said softly, simultaneously caressing your cheek. A look of endearment shone from his eyes. your hair, sprawled across your pillow, the pillow that Jude had somehow managed to squeeze his head onto as well. "Look baby, my hair is all over you", you laughed and pointed upwards to the dozens of curls that patterned over the satin pillowcase, "yeah, a few strands made their way onto my head as well it looks like", Jude replied with a gentle laugh.

"Being this close isn't close enough.." "This isn't so bad eh?" asked Jude with the slightest tinge of reluctance in his voice. "Jude I'm cold" you replied in an unamused tone. There the two of you stood, in an ice skating rink each dressed in shorts and t-shirts, your's unfortunately being cropped in addition, all due to Jude having a bright idea when he saw a sign for a new rink across the street from the outdoor mall the two of you had been venturing for the past few hours. "Hmm, come baby let's go sit in the bleachers." Jude suggested as a possible solution, the two of you, hand in hand, glided to the edge of the rink and removed your skates. Making your way around the few people scattered throughout the building, the two of you finally found a secluded place in the bleachers, almost like habit, you found yourself pushing your head into Jude's chest. "I'm still cold" you mumbled sarcastically, "I say we get closer and see if that helps", Jude returns, with a grin like no other.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ!smut begins here!: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

"You could tell every time we touch, every time we uh.." With your fingernails digging into Judes back, and his head in the crook of your neck, the two of you, exasperated and panting. "Baby I'm almost there" you whisper breathily into his ear, in response, he tightens his grip on your hip with one arm, and supports his weight with the other. The moment is pure, a private and personal display of affection for one another, pure intimacy. "I love you so much baby", Jude reiterates for what feels like the 200th time tonight, and you once again say the same as the two of you reach your highs simultaneously.

"Its when I melt into you..." "M'love why are you crying? What's going on?" Jude questioned wearily. He had just returned to Madrid after being in England for Int. camp for some time, you had missed him dearly. You found it hard to fall asleep, boring to stay home, and no fun to go out either, without Jude. "Nothings happened, just missed you so much baby" you reply stuffily, it may sound stupid to cry, and truthfully you didn't know why you were, but it was involuntary, they weren't tears of sadness, they were tears of relief, you were finally pressed into his chest again, basking in his warmth, and taking deep inhalations of his cologne that you'd grown so fond of. It was as if you found yourself melting into him, and a kiss on your temple from him was the bow on the present of a moment.

That's all I got today y'all 😭🤍

alsooo, new smut coming either later today or tomorrow 😝

[ryukatters]

Ok so imagine:

Gojo is pretty emotionally disconnected from most, refuses to let himself get attached most of the time after everything thats happened to him.

And then you show up

He doesn’t want to slip up. He doesnt want to form another bond like that. But its like he can’t stop it. Maybe you just remind him of what he’s lost, maybe it’s the way you see him as him rather than “the strongest,” an annoyance, or something shallow. It happens slow, so slow he barely even picks it up, but the feelings bloom. You just enrapture him. And he remembers everything that happened last time he got so close to another person, and he’s terrified to accept it but terrified to turn it away and loose the last chance he might have at a relationship like that.

so he takes it, tries to claim you in every sense of the word. You’re weaker than him, possibly even an underling, so there’s definitely a power dynamic that makes it easier for him to keep control. Maybe he tries to keep you hidden, but maybe he likes to drag you around like a dog, only loaning you off to somebody else when it gets too dangerous. Either way, it’s not like you can run because he’d definitely find you. He is absolutely NOT going to lose something so important to him, not again. He’d do whatever it takes, even if it meant making himself look like the bad guy in your eyes because you understand him so well, so he’s sure he can turn your relationship back to the positive side with just a little explanation and coercion

(idk if this may be a bit ooc but… its been rotting in my brain ty for letting me dump it here)

trigger warnings/content: yandere, stalking, power dynamics, obsession, Gojo is a few years older than reader, no smut, just word vomit

It starts off small. You’re a budding sorcerer, a few years Gojo’s junior, and also a new teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, trying to adjust to your new job. Gojo takes it upon himself to mentor you. You don’t think anything of it, other than the fact that it’s a little intimidating to have the strongest sorcerer of the era to serve as your guide.

You’re strong, he can see. You’re hardened by a few rough years of working in the field, but even despite barely meeting you, your facade cracks and he can see the goodness underneath.

Gojo’s impenetrable most days. To a lot of people, he might be a loud, annoying nuisance, but to you, you see a broken man who tries to keep everyone at arm’s length at the expense of his pride and reputation as a formidable sorcerer.

Gojo’s extremely intelligent, and uses it to play his cards wisely. It took him years to build a persona that’ll prevent outsiders from ever looking in. You manage to unravel him day by day, and it almost frustrates him.

Almost.

Until he realizes there’s no point in fighting the inevitable— he’ll have to let you in eventually.

There’s a fear in Gojo’s eyes when he sees you. It’s like all tomorrows appear in a blink. Your entire essence, so good, so innocent about the cruelty of the world. It reminds him of innocence he once had in his youth. Something about you is so magnetizing, and no matter how much Gojo wants to fight it, he can’t help but be pulled in.

He wants you. And he wants you to want him. Need him. Desire him carnally in the way he does you.

Slowly, he lets you see parts of him that no one else has ever seen. His love is so overwhelming, and because it’s Satoru— with his sweet words and seemingly good intentions— he manages to have you fall for him too. And when he finally, officially has you (because let’s face it, he decided you were his long before that point), he manages to keep you under lock and key.

For your safety, he reasons.

After all— is he really the strongest if he doesn’t do what he can to keep you safe?

The rose colored glasses seem to wear off over time, and you start to see Gojo for the monster he really is.

It takes a few months of garnering courage to even attempt to begin planning your escape from him. You do it slowly, but carefully, calculating every step to make sure you don’t leave a trail behind.

You get one of the auxiliary managers to buy you a back up phone, set up a whole new bank account overseas, and eventually *secretly* book a ticket to a whole different country— one far from the grasp of Satoru Gojo.

Fate, by some miracle, seems to be on your side. Yaga calls both of you in for an emergency meeting. Gojo is being sent away on a week long mission abroad to snuff out a new curse user group that has connections to one here in Japan. You— a local mission to check out disappearances in a nearby town.

You can feel the hostility radiating from the man standing next to you. You dare to take a peek, and you see nothing but an airy smile. “Yaga, I’ll take care of their mission. It should be quick for me—“

“No, Satoru. They haven’t been on a mission in months, thanks to you being greedy and taking on everything. Being a good mentor means letting them take calculated risks.”

With that, both of you sign off on paperwork and begin to prepare for your respective missions. The atmosphere is tense in Gojo’s home— the same one he made you move into just a few months prior (“So you don’t have to worry about commuting so far. ‘Sides, there’s a lot of creeps lurking around out there, and I’m not talking about curses.”)

Gojo refuses to leave you until he makes sure that you’ll be safe. Borderline threatens Ijichi to keep a close eye on you, and the poor man is nothing short of pissing his pants.

He pulls you aside before Ijichi starts preparing the veil. One hand rests on your waist, squeezing almost a little bit too tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go, while the other tilts your chin up so you can meet his gaze.

He has his blindfold on, but you know all of his attention is on you. “I know you won’t have service inside the veil, but the second it gets lifted you’re going to call me.”

You nod, and listen like the good girl he likes you to be. With that, he gives you a kiss on the forehead before he leaves.

You manage to locate the missing victims and exorcise the curse in less than 48 hours. You do as you’re told and call Gojo. He picks up after the first ring, and you think you can hear a shuddered sigh of relief on the other line upon hearing your voice. He tells you he has to go, only because duty calls, and that he’ll talk to you soon. Be good. Update him. Don’t leave without permission.

As usual, you appease him.

You make it back home in record time, tell Ijichi to wait outside because you need him to take you somewhere.

You leave your phone behind— the one that Gojo has the location of— and shut the door with nothing but a small suitcase in tow.

Ijichi stammers, you want to go where? Alone? Does Gojo know about this?

You tell him there’s no time for questions and to start driving.

He drops you off at Narita, in the international terminal. He’s visibly sweating, no doubt fearing for both his life and yours once a certain white haired sorcerer gets back from his mission. You give him an easy smile and thank him, and he speeds off, probably to go into hiding as well.

Your hands are shaky as you hand the boarding pass to the flight crew, and the tremors don’t stop even as you take a seat inside the plane. Even when you arrive at your destination, lay down in your bed in what’s going to be your temporary home for who knows how long, does your anxiety fail to cease.

Gojo knows something is off. He’s blown up your phone with endless calls and texts, called Ijichi countless times, and even asked Yaga about your whereabouts. Nothing. Your radio silence confirms his intuition. He finishes up his mission quickly, before the one week allotment is up. The first thing he does when he steps foot in Japan is immediately teleport back home.

He’s met with silence, and hardly any trace of your cursed energy residuals to be seen. You’ve been gone for a few days, he deduces.

Anxiety starts to prickle the back of his neck, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this much concern for anyone. Are you hurt? He tries calling you again, until he hears it. The slight buzzing sound emanating from your shared bedroom.

He picks up the device and sees the log of notifications. You really were gone.

Satoru looks through your phone— messages, emails, camera roll, bank statements— anything, anything to give him a hint as to what you were up to. Nothing. That’s okay, onto the next plan, which is honestly what he should’ve done first.

Being the strongest sorcerer had its perks, but none of them were greater than his privilege to investigate into people’s background history.

You know deep down there really was no escape from Satoru Gojo. That no matter the distance, he’d find a way back to you.

So when you see Gojo sitting on your bed in your hotel room, a part of you isn’t that surprised. The rest of you is paralyzed with anxiety of what comes next. You want to run, but you can’t. Your eyes begin to shift towards the still open door, trying to assess your options, but you’re hardly given a chance to finish your thought before Gojo is in front of you, closing the door. Effectively shut away from the outside world.

He’s not wearing his blindfold, you noticed. Which means he’s probably been tracking the flow of your cursed energy the moment you stepped foot into the lobby.

His stormy gaze meets yours, and he smiles. Your stomach drops.

“So…” he starts, voice sinfully low, “thought you could get away, hm?” He’s backed you up against the door, his strong frame pressed against yours.

Words bubble up your throat but die as they reach the tip of your tongue. You don’t want to set him off. You’ve only been given small glimpses into Gojo’s more sadistic, domineering side, which he does on purpose to serve as warning. You’re not like anyone else, so I’ll be good to you. In return, you must be good for me.

You start to tremble, legs beginning to fail you— but Satoru’s there to hold you steady. He uses one hand to grip your face, squishing both of your cheeks until your lips are pursed. He watches with deep adoration and fascination at how pliant the flesh is between his fingers. It’s like you were made for him.

“I’m willing to forget that you did this,” he hums, placing a quick peck to the tip of your nose before he presses his forehead against yours. “If you promise to get in that bed with me until I’ve decided you’re forgiven.”

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost, recommend, or translate my writing on TikTok or Twitter.

[ronkeyroo]

A positive Update

Friends, kind folk - Hello Again 🤍

Ever since my last update post, I've been thinking about it , a lot ;; I knew I needed time to cook and reflect, and im so glad I gave myself that...

2024 started rough for me; I fell severely ill again - I was too busy cursing my life and dwelling over how betrayed I felt by things still not getting better despite my efforts that I didn't realize I was walking into a self fulfilling prophecy. Its true that the struggles I'm going through are yet to be solved, that its gotten so much to the point giving up seemed easier, and that a couple individuals haven't been making it easier on me either; I swayed and i rattled and I steered within feelings ranging from confusion to anger to dismay and all of this back and forth did nothing but remind me of yet another self-destructive loop I just don't want to allow in my life anymore. Its exactly the kinda stuff that made me ill to begin with, and I've been so lost dealing with everything in between that i forgot to tend to the actual core centering all of this...

It grew unbearable how much emotional and physical turmoil I was pushing myself into, and knowing how intertwined these two elements have been; I had to draw a line before i majorly screwed myself over, gathering any bit of inner will to discipline myself back into some sort of clarity, enough to at least look through a lens OUTSIDE my pain for once, towards the kind of life I want to lead, and the kind of life I don't; and I came to an understanding.

From my physical state to my mental, to the people and memories I've experienced, both the good and the bad - I want to prioritize the good.

Not in a shitty ass, toxic optimism kinda way but in a "I want to prioritize knowing and living the possibility that even when it hurts, even when i want to be gone, even when life doesn't align - There's still every good reason in the world to keep moving forward, to face things from a perspective of growth & compassion, and to grow to love the promise of a better tomorrow even when today was unbearable." To know that I don't end or begin in my suffering, that the infinite potential I speak so fondly of applies to me, as well...

I want to be able to wield and create and share that goodness, too, Especially when it is already in decline...And for all gods sake, to internalize that all of this STILL exists and STILL matters even when it doesn't work the first couple or dozens of times.

As for my place here in Tumblr...I know the sentiment might feel silly to some but the experiences, memories, and connections I've made here have truly been such a significant force in my life, and i don't want to give up on that ;; Not because of my own insecurities, or an inner state of hopelessness, and especially not over a bunch of emotionally immature Anons that dont know how to handle themselves; I want to forgive all of that.

I'm stubborn, and there's an unyielding force within me that no matter how many times it is struck down, it proved itself ridiculously resilient. I'm perking up with with a fiery confidence realizing just how many times it rose back up, enough to realize it is an unchangeable part of me ;_; I shouldn't underestimate that force, and I want to keep living by its side. Whatever positive change I can sprinkle onto my life and the lives of those I care for, I will! And the reason why this space in particular is so important to me, is because so much of that already exists here, alongside you folks;

THAT'S the kind of energy i want to nourish and walk into the new year with! I want to continue growing as a person, challenging my inner turmoils, undoing the self punishing dogmas that still haunt me, stop flexing my teeth over things that don't deserve my time and god DAMN, just - indulge in the stuff that makes me happy, even when I'm going through unhappy times.

So yeah...I guess that means, I'm back & I'm staying ;_;)🧡

I know i may seem like a broken record when it comes to expressing gratitude but - Thank you, thank you thank you everyone who have reached out for me, who so fondly kept me in their thoughts and kept encouraging me whenever i was hurting, both then and now...You folks mean more than whatever ailment or struggle I can go through, and while I'm unsure of how the future will look like as I'm still going through various challenges- I couldn't have asked for a cooler, sweeter audience to have by my side whenever Its time to take a rest or hype over our sexy delicious blorbos!

Speaking of which....................I have been cooking quite a lot of things in the time i was away 👀✨ I most definitely intend to serve them, eheheh

[captainpulisic]

the rust that grew between telephones - c. pulisic

authors note: saw a video on twitter where christians parents called him a 'shy, soft spoken kind of guy' and I got really soft over him gif credit to owner word count: 2.6 k

you’re dead asleep when the phone screen begins to light up the room. you blindly reach for the it on your nightstand, refusing to fully exit your slumbered state. surely you had set your alarm clock to the wrong time last night, because there was no fucking way it was already time to start the day. you’d bet your life that you had just fallen asleep, at max, an hour ago. 

it’s okay, you try to convince yourself. it’s probably only midnight and I have many, many hours of sleep left. 

yet, as you peek one eye open, it is not your blaring alarm illuminating your screen and room. you’re met with christians contact photo. suddenly, you feel wide awake. the sleepiness and appeal to go back to bed is long forgotten, now only eager to hear his voice. 

answering the call, his raspiness indicated he’d also just woken up. you hear his low voice, “hey baby.”

oh.

oh how you missed his voice, especially as the first thing to hear in the morning. if you closed your eyes, you could perfectly envision waking up by his side. tired eyes and soft giggles, as he pulls you close to him. you feel slightly pathetic over how your heart begins to hurt. it had only been a few weeks since you’d last seen him, yet the yearning was unbearable. you missed him. you always do when you’re apart, but recently it has been worse. your skin itched for his, lonely nights spent counting down the minutes until the season would be over and he’d be coming back home. 

“hey you,” trying to sound as awake as you can, stifiling a yawn that wants to escape you. he must not realize how late it is on your end. sitting up, you pinch yourself a few times to become more alert. you manage out a somewhat energetic, “everything okay?”

“yeah, everythings okay over here.” his voice is softer than usual, sadder if anything. he pauses for a moment, you can feel his hesitation before speaking. soon enough he whispers his confession, uncertain and slightly embarrassed. you might have missed it if you weren’t hanging on to every word he was saying. “I just really miss you.” 

your heart aches even more, if possible. “i miss you, too.”

“like, really bad y/n,” he’s always struggled with properly articulating his feelings. he prefers to affirm his love for you with simple, small acts and sweet, shy touches. telling you his true feelings always resulted in him turning a blushing and stuttering mess. therefore, you know how much this must really be affecting him, for him to outwardly say this. your heart breaks as he goes on, “do you know how much it sucks to wake up and not have you right next to me? it’s horrible.”

you do know, you always feel like that in his absence. 

“i know, my love.” you sit up, trying to wipe away the weariness from your eyes. “but we’ll be together soon, yeah?”

“soon.” he confirms, it’s the only promise that's managed to keep him sane. 

hoping to keep him on the line and distracted from the ungodly hour he woke you up, you ask him about what he has planned for the day. its meaningless talk, really. he goes on about the scheduled training and new tricks they’ve been working on, occasionally complaining about the team's current slump. once in a while you hum, letting him know you're attentive to every word he’s saying. yet you’re more focused on how soothing his voice was, it was all warmth and safeness to you.

still clueless of the time, he asks what your plans are. you begin to mumble about the exams and work you have planned for tomorrow- well, for today. you too, in return, complain of how exhausted uni life has been treating you and the endless pile of assignments you can never seem to finish. 

your error is droning on about how tiring it all is, because it just makes you revert back to your drowsy state. you don’t even realize when your words begin to die off and a rather large yawn breaks loose.

“y/n? are you falling asleep?” christian frowns. he had been too wrapped up in the horrible mood he had woken up in, he hadn’t thought of the wretched time difference. “wait, what time is it?” 

“uhm,” your hesitation lasts too long for his liking. instantly, it all clicks for him.

“fuck”, he groans. “it’s the middle of the night, isn’t it?”

“no.”

deny deny deny. 

if he realized it was so fucking late, he’d send you back to sleep. that was the worst fate he could condemn you to, you were sure of it. with him training all day and the drastic time difference, moments to properly talk were rare. you weren't going to give up this precious, stolen time with him. your scarce phone calls consisted of quick recounts of what you'd both done that day and gentle whispers of how much you’d missed each other. too soon, one of you would have to hang up to either get started on your day while the other had to unwind from their day already spent. 

you didn’t care how childish you sounded, you weren’t going to let him make you go to sleep. he couldn't make you! 

“y/n.” he was much more serious, more stern. when he got like this, you liked to tease him, calling it his ‘captain voice’. that’d usually leave him with reddened cheeks and arguments long forgotten.

it comes out more of a question, then an assurance. “I was already awake?”  

“y/n.” he repeats. yeah, it was a long shot that he’d believe that. 

you mock him, “christian.” 

you hear him begin to huff out his disapproval of your childish antics. much to your dismay, another damned yawn escapes you. no point in trying to win now, you rest your head back on the pillow and accept your defeat. you sigh, “okay, I was asleep.”

he makes a noise that sounds like a mixture of a disappointed groan and a victorious ‘hmph’. 

oh my sweet boy, how I miss you. 

“i’m so sorry,” he’s sputtering out apologies faster than you can try to assure him it’s all okay. “I was dreaming of you and then I woke up and you weren’t here. I felt horrible. I needed to hear your voice before I went insane. I called without thinking, i’m so sorry I woke you. go back to sleep, please.”

your reply is automatic, “no.”

“yes.” he tries (and fails) to reason with you, “you just told me how busy you’re going to be in the morning!”

“you can’t make me!” you argue.

“y/n.”

“so i’ve been called.”

“go back to sleep,” he tries again. you’re tempted to do it just because it’s him asking you. you would do anything he’d ask of you, it's quite humiliating how you’re putty in his hands. no, you have to stand your ground. you had missed him too much and you weren’t ready to say your goodbyes. back to his shy state, “i’m now very embarrassed that I called.”

that irks something in you. you’re stupidly obsessed with him, you’d go days without sleeping if it meant you could always talk to him. the fact that he doesn’t get that offends you quite a bit. if he’s embarrassed over how much he misses you, then you should be utterly humiliated. 

“christian,” your voice comes out harder than you’d planned. “listen to me.”

instantaneously, his protest had stopped and the line had gone silent. you pull the phone away from your face, unsure if he’d hung up to make you go back to your unwanted slumber. no, the call was still connected. putting the phone back to your ear, you barely caught his faint, “yeah?”

“i’m glad you called.” suddenly, you feel as shy as you imagined he did. you also struggle to express your feelings but you’re desperate to keep him on the call, not wanting to part ways yet. “i’ve missed you terribly.”

another pause, “really?”

“I can’t believe you’d even question it,” you utter in disbelief. “of course idiot, ‘m always missing you.”

“i’m not questioning it!” all the clatter on his end of the line has stopped. you’d assumed he was getting ready to leave for training and now you were both left in silence. it takes him a few seconds to gather his thoughts and words. eventually, “i’m sorry, i’m just in my head right now. have i told you how much this distance sucks?”

“i know, my love” the urge to hold him and kiss him is borderline pathetic. trying harder to distract him from the sad thoughts and prior argument, you have to think fast. you drop your voice a tad lower. you try your best to sound as alluring as possible, “that’s why we should really take advantage of the time we have right now. c'mon, think of the fun things we could do at this late, late hour.”

you begin to mumble half-hearted details of what you had in mind, yet christian hums his disapproval.

“y/n, stop trying to seduce me.” the ‘captain voice’ reappears. “it’s only late for you and you’re about to go back to sleep, or else.” 

it’s a teasing threat. you both can’t deny the smiles you’re fighting as the conversation unravels. scolding words but you know him, this was your usual banter. 

“oh, yeah?” you counter back. “what are you going to do when you’re thousands of miles away, huh? and like i’ve said countless times, i’m not even tired!” 

“you yawned three times as you told me ‘all the filthy things’ you wanted to do to me, i’m positive you’re tired.”

“oh baby, I think you need to get your hearing checked because I was not yawning.” you scoff, scolding yourself for getting caught. your brain fumbles trying to think of a good comeback. you blurt the first thing that comes to mind, “that's just how I breathe.”

“then you’re the one who needs to go get checked because thats some weird fucking breathing.”

you snort, “has anyone ever told you how good of a flirt you are?”

“no,” he deadpans, the captain voice more present than ever.

“hmm, I wonder why. should we, maybe, try to figure out why that is?” 

“y/n,” he’s not letting you sidetrack him again. “please, go to sleep.”

you whine once more, “but I wanna keep talking to you.” 

“i know, pretty girl but you have to sleep.”

you feel yourself losing this fight. trying to find some common ground, “will you stay on the call if I go to sleep?”

christian weighs his options, “promise to actually go to sleep?”

“promise to keep talking?” you counter back.

“if i promise, will you stop answering my questions with a question?”

you force yourself to hold back your laughter, “will you?”

he laughs and you’re unashamedly proud that you’re the cause of it. you’re sure you hear him call you a ‘smart ass’ but he swiftly denies it. 

much to your delight, christian begins to tell you an in depth play by play of their last game and how he thought they could improve. half of you wants to fight the sleepiness and continue listening to his rambles, but the sane part of you begs for some needed rest. you don’t even notice when you drift off, slipping back into dreams of the next time you’ll see christian. 

meanwhile, christian chatters on, even after you’ve fallen asleep. as he gathers his things to leave, he talks about everything and nothing. he tells you about how mason gave up on learning chess within the first ten minutes of christian trying to teach him. he tells you about how he found a new restaurant for the both of you to try next time you visit. the whole drive to the bridge, he recounts funny things that had happened with the guys and the latest gossips he knew you liked hearing about. he even managed into sneaking in a few, shy ‘i love yous’. as he went on and on, he knew you’d want to hear this again, once conscious, but he didn’t mind. he’d happily repeat himself a million times for you. 

-

he’s gotten even more handsome, you’re sure of it. you hadn’t thought it was possible but here he was, in all his glory. big brown eyes and now close enough to chart the freckles across his cheeks. those stupid phone calls and banter don’t measure up to the way he’s looking at you right now.

he had told you there was no need to pick him up from the airport, that you shouldn’t subject yourself to the hassle. clearly you went against his wishes, tackling him as soon as you had sights on him. that's how you were now, pressed flush against him, arms entangled around each other with promises of never letting go. 

“hey baby,” he whispers, lips pressed to your ear. “lets go home, yeah?”

instead of replying, your wrapped arms give him a gentle squeeze. unaware of the few curious glances directed towards the pair of you, you wonder if it’s physically possible to get any closer to him. 

“i’m never leaving your side again.” you mumble, face pressed to his chest. you try to peek up a glance at him, looking away immediately when you see his heavy gaze already on you. why does he have to look at me like that? it makes me feel like i’m on fire. slightly shaking your head, “i’m serious, one day they’re going to have to pry my corpse from yours.”

his dimple is more prominent than ever, “y/n, you really need to stop trying to seduce me.”

you both laugh, basking in each other's presence. christian presses a kiss to your hair, reaffirming how much he had missed you. his left arm never unwrapping from your waist, even when you begin to walk to the car.  

it’s a quick drive from the airport to your shared home. after unpacking and dinner and intimate touches were shared, you’d found yourselves laid in bed. your head resting on his chest, your fingers were mindlessly tracing the outlines on his tattooed arm. 

christian lets out a content sigh, “you have no idea how much i’ve missed this, missed you.” 

“i missed you more.”

after the busy evening you had just spent, it’s no surprise when you see him begin to snooze off. you don’t mind, you finally had him in arms reach and reassurance that you had many days to have the conversations that had been too scant. 

 

you murmur, soft and quietly, “go to sleep, baby.”

“hey,” he barely peeks one eye open, the corner of his lip threatening to quirk up. “that's my line.”

you roll your eyes, giving him one final kiss to his bare shoulder “night, i love you.”

instead of responding, he wraps his arms around your waist and flips you to your side. you let out a surprised yelp but nonetheless, your body automatically finds the perfect way to fit with his. instantly, he pulls you close to him, leaving a delicate kiss on your earlobe. you barely hear his low, “i love you too.”

after that, his faint snores are all that is heard. you follow in his steps, eyes growing heavier by the seconds. yes, sleeping is much better when christians voice rings right next to you and not through a phone.

feedback is greatly appreciated please!

[highway-tuna]

When The Morning Comes

pairing: Danny Wagner x Reader

wc: 2.4k+

warnings: none

summary: Seems like it's just your luck that you get sick right before a date. But not just any date, a Valentine's Day date. But not just any Valentine's Day date, a double Valentine's Day date with your good friend, Danny. So much for being a good wingman. With nothing better to do, you settle into your coziest blanket and sulk, doomed to spend your Valentine's Day evening alone. Or so you think...

a/n: I saw @seenoversundown's GVF Valentine's Day Writing Event and decided to workshop this regular idea I had in the backburner to something more in theme! Hope you enjoy, I've written fan fiction in general for a long while, but this is actually my first one-shot. Happy Valentine's Day!

----------------------------------------------------

“I know, I know!” You groan into your phone, staring down at the bright, red glow of the electronic thermometer. You’d been feeling under the weather since this morning, but you didn't think it was this bad. The sleek dress hanging from the closet door practically mocks you while you already beat yourself up. “I didn’t think I’d feel this… shitty. I’m sorry.”

Danny chuckles over the phone, seemingly unbothered. “You sure you aren’t faking it? You’re always somehow not feeling well right before events.” He sucks his teeth and you can only imagine his dumb disapproving smirk. “Seems pretty convenient, (Y/N).” 

“It’s not convenient, Daniel. It’s bad luck.” Collapsing into your bed, you sigh, practically radiating guilt. “Especially tonight. I feel terrible having to bail on this date. It’s like my first real date since…” A grin creeps its way across your lips as you giggle at the thought.

“Since our date?” The both of you begin laughing, a clear confirmation of his response. Danny was simply a friend of a friend of a friend before you two had met. New to the area and looking to start dating, a friend of yours thought Danny would be the perfect match for you. Instead of allowing you to interact in any way beforehand to let things naturally take its course, the casanovas that were your mutual friends decided the blind date approach would be best. And of course it wasn’t. The chemistry just wasn’t there. You were awkward. There was a lot of dead silence and extremely polite small talk. To make matters even worse, everyone had failed to mention he was fresh out of a relationship. Only after the fact did he tell you he wasn’t even looking for a relationship, that our friends had basically forced him to go on the date.

Lucky for you, he was always interested in making friends and that’s what you became. Good friends. Really good friends, in fact. Joined at the hip, your friends would say with a tacked on eyeroll for good measure. “Yes, since our date. No one could treat me nearly as well as you did that night.”

“Oh? Is that why you haven’t been on any other dates?” You both laugh at his quip, but it does leave a strange feeling in your chest. Unbeknownst to Danny, he was the reason you hadn’t been on any other dates. Sure, the date didn’t really leave you with any feelings, but once your friendship blossomed so did your unrequited crush. Being around Danny just felt… easy. Which is exactly why you had to leave it as is. It’s such a cliche, but it’s cliche for a reason. He’s basically your best friend at this point. To make things awkward or face rejection from one of the most important people in your life is something you’d go through hell and back to avoid. “I guess I’ll just have to cancel the date.”

Just the thought makes you feel even more guilty. “Danny, no. You can’t just ditch the girl. On Valentine’s Day, no less.” It’s a bit comforting that you don't have to go on a double date on Valentine’s Day and watch the man you’d rather date, date someone else. “Oh man, I should probably call him to cancel, right?”

“It’s fine, I’ll-”

“You’re going on this date, Danny. Let me know how good it went tomorrow, alright? Bye!” You end the call intentionally before he could utter another word. Searching for your date’s contact in your phone, you get a text notification that simply says one word.

Asshole.

----------------------------------------------------

Bundled up on the couch watching reruns of old shows isn’t how you expected to spend your Valentine’s Day, but here you are. Your eyes fall to the time on your phone. 7:36pm. If that damn thermometer didn’t say you had a fever, you could’ve been out right now at a fancy restaurant, eating fancy food, dressed all fancy. Probably still feeling like shit, but at least you would’ve looked great. Not like how you look now: hair matted down from resting in your pseudo blanket fort, eyes dark and weary, falling in and out of consciousness. It’s an exhilarating time. 

Grabbing the phone, you scroll mindlessly online and occasionally check the status of your DoorDash order. A little comfort fast food should make you feel better, right? It’s supposed to be here soon. As you swipe through your socials, you see a picture of… your date and Danny’s date together? Which wouldn’t be too weird except for the fact that Danny is in none of these pictures. Your first instinct is to send the pictures over to him with simply a question mark. A few moments pass and you see that he sees your message, but doesn’t respond. Asshole.

A knock on your door startles you from staring at your phone. With an achy groan, you stand from your couch and peer out your window, hoping to see someone with a bag of food walking from their car, but no. Nothing from this view. They really must’ve dropped it off and zoomed away. You swing the door open, desperate for your food.

“Danny?” His name leaves your mouth in shock before you even process the rest of the view. A beautiful bouquet in hand, dressed equally as comfortable as you, and… your bag of food? You point at the brown paper bag, very confused. “How did you-”

“He was bringing it out the same time I was walking up to your door so he just sorta handed it to me,” he laughs, whether it be at the situation or at your general look of shock, staring at him with mouth slightly agape. It’s as if he could read your mind, ready to question him. “You really thought I was gonna let you spend Valentine’s Day by yourself, (Y/N)?”

“Well, yeah! You had a date!” You weakly shove him and chuckle.

“It’s fine. She was understanding. I had someone I needed to take care of.” The flush of your cheeks are impossible to hide. Narrowing your eyes, your mouth opens and shuts as you try to find a rebuttal, but nothing comes out. Accepting your defeat, you step aside and silently invite him in. He hands you your bag of food and beelines straight for the kitchen.

You watch him with your head tilted while he scavenges through your cabinets. “What are you doing?” He mutters something, but you can’t quite catch it. “What- Oh.” He pulls out a vase and fills it with water, setting the bouquet inside. With an almost childish look of pride, he stands beside it and gestures with his hands.

“For you.”

“Thank you… for the hand-me-down flowers.” He shakes his head, making his way back to your living room. A gentle squeeze of your shoulder while he passes that will surely echo in your head the entire night.

“I got them specifically for you. I canceled right after our phone call. These plans-” He motions to everything around him before tossing himself onto the couch, clearly getting comfy right beside your sick blanket pile. “-were already in motion.” 

You sigh before sitting beside him, wrapping your blanket around your shoulder and placing your bag of food on the floor. “You really didn’t have to. Plus, you’re gonna get sick.” His hand waves dismissively and he tugs on your blanket, now wrapping around both of you. This closeness between you two isn’t unusual by any means, but tonight, there’s just something different about it. Maybe that’s hope or delusion talking. Or maybe you’re just loopy from cough medicine. Probably that. 

Grabbing your food, he takes a handful of fries and puts them in his mouth. “I never get sick.” You snatch the bag back and start eating as well, begrudgingly sharing with him. Falling into idle chatter, the two of you get more and more comfortable. His arm draped over your shoulders, your head practically nestled into his neck. Just friends being friends. He really came here on Valentine’s to do… absolutely nothing with you. 

Your eyes begin to slowly flutter shut on occasion, the weary and tired energy taking over you. “You okay?” He pulls away ever so slightly to glance down at you, just checking in. That small retreat from him causes you to instinctually latch onto him. The vibration of his soft laughter reverberates against you. “Alright, let’s get you to bed.” You groan, but comply as he stands from the couch, leaving you with an empty space that you long for him to fill. He takes your hand and guides you to your own bedroom.

Like a moth to a flame, your bed calls out to you. Without moving the top sheets or decorative throws, you face plant directly into a pillow and let out a heavy sigh of relief. It’s almost enough to forget about Danny, admiring you with a soft chuckle. You roll over and look up at him, standing at the foot of your bed. Just the image is enough to make you blush, considering this scene in another circumstance, but you quickly shirk those thoughts. Something suddenly comes to mind. “Oh, check my vinyls. I got a new one,” your voice comes out slow and groggy, tinged with your sleepy smile.

He steps over to your record player, crouching down to look into your box of vinyls. Sitting right in front is Hall & Oates Abandoned Luncheonette. You watch as a small grin crosses his lips. “One of my favorites,” he plainly mutters, sliding the record out of the sleeve and putting it on the turntable. When The Morning Comes starts to play, filling the space in your room. 

“I got it because I remembered you talking about it. Hall & Oates is also just great so,” you mumble, the sleep still pulling you in and out of consciousness. Your eyes close for a moment and you feel the bed shift beside you. Opening them slightly, you glance over to see Danny laying beside you, his fingers tapping on his chest along to the beat of the song. Without a word, you cuddle up to him, resting your head against his arm. “Staying the night?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” You both chuckle at the response. It’s a little forward of you, but with how tired and weak you are, you let your walls come down. “Y’know, I’m really glad you came over tonight.”

“There’s nothing else in the world I’d rather do than spend time with you.” His eyes fall on you while he adjusts, bringing you into his arms. “Even if you’re practically dead right now.”

“I am.” You’re honestly glad the meds and the illness are making you as loose as you are right now. Because otherwise you’d be through the roof with all this attention and affection he’s giving you. “So dead, but I’m still happy you’re here. Does this count as our second date?”

He laughs and shrugs. “If it is, I think it went way better than our first.” His fingers absentmindedly rake through your hair as you continue to drift off. A small silence falls between you before he quietly speaks. “Maybe we should try that again…” Hearing that shocks you, but physically, you can’t hold your exhaustion back. A small mhm leaves your lips as you fall unconscious.

----------------------------------------------------

Sunlight pours into your bedroom, casting a soft glow across you. You yawn and try to stretch, but feel an assortment of your limbs tangled with something else, someone else. Looking over, Danny’s fast asleep, his arms wrapped around you in a bear hug, his legs intertwined with yours. It causes you to chuckle, but deep down, your heart races being so close to him. His dark curls falling over his face, his soft lips parted ever so slightly, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes deeply.

In a moment of selfish desire, you take his hand in yours, trailing your fingers with a gentle touch along his skin. A twitch causes you to quickly withdraw. You feel him stir in his sleep, but he only pulls you closer. “Morning…” His voice, groggy and husky, almost startles you just as much as it intrigues you. It’s as if you can feel his hesitation, a hesitation you share as he loosens his grip, allowing you to fully turn and face him. Just inches apart, a strange feeling between you two lingers.

“Morning. Sleep well?”

“Amazing.” You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. “I can feel your sickness in my immune system as we speak.” Yeah, sarcasm.

“Well, I actually do feel better now.”

There’s a short pause, a moment where your eyes lock and a shared chuckle occurs. “Just admit you wanted me all to yourself last night, that you weren’t sick at all.”

“I was sick, but…” Feeling emboldened, you shoot back, “Maybe it was both.”

“Did you… hear what I said last night? Before you passed out.” For the first time in a while, you hear what seems to be nerves from Danny’s voice. Just in bringing it up, it seems obvious that he was being genuine. Something you would’ve casted off as just a joke because he wouldn’t really want to go on another date with you, surely. 

Your eyes can’t help, but quickly flit between his lips and his own dark eyes, staring straight through you. “I did.” It’s as if he’s holding his breath, waiting for you to answer with actual awareness this time, but you hold back. If something like this is truly happening, you want him to fully repeat it.

“Do you want to try again?” The moment only grows in intimacy once his hand slowly comes up to your face, pushing aside strands of hair. “I think we’d have a better shot this time, (Y/N).”

You nod, causing you both to smile. “I think so too.” His eyes do the same dance as yours, admiring your lips. Accepting the invitation, he leans in, connecting his lips to yours. It’s a sweet and safe kiss, very brief. “You usually kiss girls before the first date?”

He laughs and shakes his head, rolling his eyes in a playful display of annoyance. “It’s basically our third.” 

“God, our third date. Things are going pretty well for us, I guess.” Another kiss is shared before you pull away, giggling. “And we just missed Valentine’s Day. That would’ve been a perfect date.”

“What do you mean? Wrapped up on the couch with you coughing all over me was my dream date.”

“Oh, you’re definitely gonna get sick.”

“And it’ll definitely be worth it.”

[themultifandomgal]

Kelly Severide- A New Baby Pt1

I never thought I'd get married and have kids. I just didn't think that I would ever find a man I'd consider having that kind of life with, but when Kelly Severide stepped into my life everything change. We didn't meet in the best of way. He's a fireman and I'm a police dog handler. There had been a bombing and they asked me to send my search and rescue dogs in. I fell for the guy there and then.

5 years on and we are married and have a beautiful daughter who's just turned 3 named Harper.

Today I woke up feeling off. Headache and nausea on and off. I have today off from work which is fantastic, but also my daughter is here and as much as I love her she can be an absolute nightmare

"Harper can you pick your toys up please"

"No thank you mommy" at least she's using her manners right?

"Harper. Daddy won't be happy when he comes home"

"Daddy loves me so he won't shout" Harper shrugs and she's right. She's a daddy's girl and she has him wrapped round her little finger. I'm always the bad guy and that's fine this is our dynamic, but sometimes it would be good to get a little help off him

"Right come on pick the toys up before someone hurts themselves"

"But I'm playing with them mommy"

"Harper I'm not feeling very well so please pick up your toys. I'll help, but your not getting anything else out until these toys are put away"

"Fine" Harper shouts and I rub my head as a headache begins again.

Once all the toys have been picked up I sit down on the couch and close my eyes for a moment

"Mommy?"

"Yes princess?" I open one eye to look at her

"When's dinner?"

"When daddy gets home"

"When's that?"

"Soon" I reply "I'm going to take a nap. You know the rules"

"Don't unlock the door and daddy has a key to get in. Can I play upstairs?"

"Yes, but don't run"

Before I know it I'm being woken up by Kelly's voice and touch. I open my eyes and see Kelly smiling at me

"When did you get home?" I yawn

"Just. How long have you been asleep?"

"Not long" I reply glancing at the clock "how was work today?"

"The usual, how was Harper?"

"Giving me hell"

"You made any supper?"

"No not yet" I shake my head

"I'll order us some food instead. What do you fancy?"

"To be honest Kel, I don't feel to good. Think I might be coming down with something. Just order yourself and Harper something"

"You need to eat. Even if it's just some rice or something"

"Ok" I give in to Kelly. 

Once our food has arrived we all sat down together. I take small bites of food and small sips of water

"So Harper. Have you been a good girl for mommy today?" Kelly asks. Harper lowers her head a little

"I wasn't naughty and mommy has been lazy today"

"Mommy said she isn't feeling very well so you need to be a big girl and help her"

"But..."

"No buts. Now eat your food and then it's bath then bed time"

"Fine" Harper pouts and takes her time eating her tea trying to make her bedtime later.

Once the Harper is in bed me and Kelly curl up on the sofa together watching TV. I swallow feeling more and more nauseous until I can't keep it down any more and the urge to throw up over comes me. I jump off the couch and run to the downstairs bathroom, Kelly following behind me.

Once I finish throwing up Kel and I head upstairs to bed

"You feeling any better?" Kelly asks as I change into one of his shirts

"Yeah. The nauseas gone now. Im just super tired. I've had a headache all day so its probably that that's made me sick"

"Maybe your pregnant" Kelly says. I roll my eyes at him

"I'm not pregnant"

"Are you sure because we're not very carful" Kelly states and to be fair he's got a point "you've been tired all week. We said if you were to get pregnant we'd be happy"

"Of course I would be, but had my period 2 weeks ago"

"Could be 2 weeks pregnant"

"Kel I'm not pregnant" I sigh getting into bed

"This is exactly what you were like with Harper"

"If it makes you feel any better I'll take a test tomorrow"

"Ok" Kelly kisses the top of my head and then wraps his arm around my waist and we both fall asleep.

[lizpaige]

snippet sunday

i have many half written beginnings of ideas that i may or may not come back to so why not share them on a wip/snippet sharing post?

“Your boy is calling.”

Ronan sat up on the couch just in time to catch his phone from Hennessy tossing it to him. He answered the call immediately.

“Hey.”

Hennessy threw a pillow at him, whacking him in the head. Ronan grabbed it and threw it back at her, getting up to duck out of the room. They were in Ronan’s new apartment, Ronan and Adam’s new apartment starting tomorrow when Adam moved out of the dorms. It was the end of the school year and Adam was transferring to Georgetown in the fall.

“Hey.” Adam’s voice always seemed to warm him up. There was a lot of noise on the other end.

“What’s happening over there?”

A puff of air blew into the phone. “Party. Finals are over. Everyone’s door is open on my floor and they dumped all their leftover alcohol in this big plastic storage bin and they’ve been passing it around.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah, it’s really not that bad.”

“You’re drinking that toxic waste? That’s hardcore, Parrish.”

“Yeah, well…” Ronan could hear the sound of a door shutting and the cacophony of dorm room celebration became muffled. “They don’t really take no for an answer. I’m hiding in my room trying to pack. What were you doing?”

Now that he could really hear him, Ronan picked up on Adam’s accent, in full swing, dropping the ends of words, melodic in its cadence, dipping low and swaying up high. There were only a few times when Adam would let his Henrietta accent back in. When he was very tired, which was possible since he had just worked his ass off with exams. When he was alone with Ronan or close friends, because he didn’t try to hide it from those he trusted. Or on the very rare occasion that he was under the influence. Ronan got him high once and could barely even understand Adam, he was too turned on to try and decipher whatever he was saying.

Adam rarely drank, so Ronan rarely received any drunk texts or calls. Ronan didn’t really drink either anymore. For Adam’s birthday last year, Gansey, Henry, and Blue came to the Barns and they had a big barbeque, fire pit, and Ronan fixed up a dreamt projector to show some shitty action movies on the side of the long barn. Ronan drank a little, Adam drank a little more. He was tipsy at best, but ended up falling asleep in Ronan’s lap in front of everyone by the end of the night.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Ronan bit back a smile at the dropped ‘g’. “Just hanging out with Hennessy. Why’d you call?”

“I don’t know.” A pause… and then, “just missed you.”

Ronan bit back a smile. “Missed me, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You a little tipsy there?”

“No,” Adam answered too fast, as if his voice wasn’t incriminating enough.

[nerdieforpedro]

VIII - Have we put all the pieces together?

Only Parts of you Mr. Morales Series

This fic and my blog over all is 18+ MDNI

Frankie Morales x Belinda (plus size OFC)

Word Count: about 3.4k (Longer than all the other pieces 😑 Endings are rough.)

Summary: Frankie and Belinda have a conversation that truly is better in the morning. Things are moving and shaking while Belinda is stir-crazy. After things settle down, pieces are in place where they should be.

Warnings: angst, intoxication (mild), medical jargon, pregnancy and complications (Nerdie may have taken liberties with this - Mother & Baby was not my best class), birth control discussions, food mention & cooking, Benny and Frankie bear the brunt of the bad jokes, Pope and Carmen and the MVPs, we have more desserts and fluff

Notes: The finale for Frankie and Belinda. I’ve enjoyed writing their story. It had its’s fair bit of mess but at the core were two people who loved each other. I may do a follow up or two because they’re beginning a new chapter. Thank you so much for reading this far. 💕 Happy Frankie Friday everyone! 🥰

Main Masterlist/ Frankie “Catfish” Morales Masterlist/ Only Parts of you Mr. Morales Series

It’s not like Belinda hadn’t pictured herself in this position over the years. She just thought there would be a few steps in a different order. It’s supposed to be a happy moment where she gives Frankie the wonderful news, they celebrate because they’ve talked about it, agreed to it and were doing the whole trying thing. Frankie looks a bit drunk, mostly panicked and like she’s going to float away. His eyes are trained on her and his hands have his cap and his hair in their grips.

“Mi bizcochito (My little cake) please. Don’t say it. Just…I know.”

“You know? What do you know Frankie?” Her eyebrows are halfway up her forehead. She thought she was hiding it well. Of course he knows. He’s Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales. He still notices when she uses different oils in her hair or changes her fingernail polish. The superb attention to detail that made it impossible to hide how she felt about him for the longest, even when Belinda wanted to pretend like she didn’t or worse when they were trying whatever casual mess they had been doing before. He still knew and that’s why he’d pull away sometimes, though they still ended up coming back together eventually.

“Cariño (sweetheart), you don’t have to worry though. You’ve been changing your clothes. I’m not the same as I once was either. It’s a good thing though. Since we’ve been together, we’ve both become softer, taking care of each other.” He’s explaining, or trying to, that he thinks she is beautiful even if she puts on a few pounds. He has too, Frankie’s aware he has a bit more to grab in the middle.

Belinda covers her face. This is not the right time to have this conversation with him, he is either in denial or really thinks she’s concerned about weight gain, which she isn’t. She just went back to her comfy clothes that she could hide in while she waited for her doctor’s appointment. Which had been today. Standing up and embracing him, she was able to stifle her laugh and kiss his cheek. “You’re right Frankie, we have become softer together. Let’s get you some water, a shower and off to bed.”

Morales allows himself to be taken care of by his bizcochito. He needs to keep the act up until tomorrow morning. It will be Saturday and neither of them have work unless Frankie gets called in. After Belinda falls asleep, he turns off his phone. Might lead to a stern talking to on Monday, but he’d need to ask her what he’d been beside himself to really ask her. Morales is many things but not a fool. He’s staring at the ceiling with the woman he loves laying on his chest, the very same that’s likely carrying his child. ‘Maybe I should have wrapped it up but she said she enjoyed the feeling. I did too.’ He did have to remind Belinda occasionally to take her birth control meds and they did discuss an implant in her arm or an IUD but she was squeamish about anything being surgically put in or being classified as a procedure. Frankie did poke a bit of fun at her considering what she has in her most nights and she told him he was a bad man after slapping his arm.

Maybe he should have pushed harder for it or gotten the snip himself, but neither of them ever mentioned it. Frankie pictured himself with children at one point, early in his service. Before the real combat started before he saw the horrors, it was enough many times just to take care of himself. He couldn’t imagine caring for someone fully dependent on him. Not then. But now? Belinda wrapped an arm around his torso, nuzzling her face into his chest.

“Maybe it will be fine. Maybe I can do it. We’ll be raising the kid together after all. Doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless. Fuck…” His eyes close and he drifts off to sleep curious how exactly to talk about it with her.

Despite the hangover, Morales is up first, peeling Belinda off of him. Bathroom then coffee. He’s always on coffee duty, so he decided to fix breakfast too. The excuse would be that it’s a Saturday, and she wanted to talk to him about something but he wasn’t aware enough to register anything. The aroma of the coffee calls Belinda. It smells delicious but her stomach turns, she felt like it was a little early for that. She’s at two months according to the doctor and there was a major caveat with that. She googled most of the evening yesterday but didn’t retain a thing. Slipping on a white and navy blue striped t-shirt dress, she made her way to the kitchen.

There stands Francisco, a messy mop of dark curls bouncing on the back of his neck, his gray t-shirt struggling to contain his biceps and shoulders. He was wearing tan cargo shorts that cupped the curve of his ass just right. He’s finishing up the eggs, the bacon is to the side, pancakes are keeping warm in a metal baking pan covered with foil. The table is set with orange juice and syrup already out. If she wasn’t apprehensive about what conversation they were going to have, she’d tell him to cover all the food and head back to the bedroom. This is by far one of the sexiest and sweetest things he does for her: letting her not worry about anything. She’s waiting for his usual line of “breakfast is served mi amor (my love).” That’s not what he turns and says.

Frankie turns to see Belinda watching him with a soft smile. She looks a little tired still, but otherwise fine. He’s happy to cook on days where they stay in and spend time together. It looks like there will be more of these days with a small high chair at one of the sides of the table. It’s out before he can really think about what he said, what it means. “Buenos dias mamá oso (Good morning mama bear)! Breakfast is served!” He has a genuine smile on his face. He was dead serious. Belinda’s hands were on her hips. She knows I knew, welp Fish. Whatever happens, happens. Dammit.

“Good morning Francisco Miguel Valesquez Morales.” She has used his entire name. Frankie is concerned as she walks toward him, the smile gone from her face. “How long have you known? Tell me.”

Frankie sighs and places both palms on the counter behind him, leaning back. “The last few weeks. You’re wearing different clothes I haven’t seen you wear for a while and are a bit more round in the middle.”

“Why didn’t you say anything last night? Why go with that whole ‘we’re both softer’ thing?”

“I mean, I wasn’t wrong. We are both softer. Just for different reasons and not just physically. I’m not cooking breakfast for just any woman I know. Te amo Belinda (I love you Belinda).” Her hands pinch his cheeks while her lips peck his.

“You’d best not Frankie. Te amo mi amor.” She assist and dishing up the plates and the air across from each other, eating breakfast. During a pause, she decides to ask, “Did you know I went to the doctor yesterday?”

“No but are there any issues?” Frankie crosses his arms, there couldn’t be something wrong already right?

Belinda clears her throat and sets her elbows on the table, her chin is on top of her interlocked fingers. “Apparently, and I don’t believe I have any that run in my family, the reason I’m showing earlier than normal. Whatever normal looks like, is because we’re having twins.”

Morales is frozen. He doesn't remember there being any cases of twins that he knows of. His mouth moves but nothing comes out. It’s amazing but doesn’t that mean double everything?! Belinda wonders if the man’s stopped working. It was a shock to her too yesterday. She thought maybe there was a weird shadow or something on the ultrasound but the doctor and nurse pointed out two heartbeats and two babies. It was part of why she’d been sitting to tell Frankie. It was still processing for her too.

“So…but is that okay? For you cariño?” The pilot asked. Pregnancy can be difficult when you’re having one baby. Belinda is carrying two.

“It kinda has to be Fish. I can’t move either baby anywhere else.” She chuckled, understanding his concern. What was her pregnancy going to look like? Everyone’s always different.

“When’s your next appointment? I’m coming with you. I know you won’t remember everything.”

Belinda had fake outrage on her face, gasping and covered her mouth with her hands, “Is that so? How could you! I have my notes from my last appointment. Thank you! Not everything stuck though to be fair.” The smirk on her face as Frankie stood and walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I told them I can call next week after checking with you, plus I needed to actually tell you.”

“Well now I know. I’ll let my manager know and it will be fine.” He kisses her forehead, “I’ve got to show up with you to let them know who’s got some strong swimmers. I’m not called ‘Fish’ for nothing.” Belinda pinched his nose, then ruffled his hair.

“Such a horrible man. Who even says that Frankie?” They both laughed while they cleaned up breakfast. Her cheek rested in the middle of Frankie’s back as he washed the dishes. For just a moment before she dried and put them away.

Sunday afternoon at Will and Benny’s, everyone is gathered. All their close friends. Belinda and Frankie had done a video call with her parents who were shocked, ecstatic and wanted to know when they could fly down and visit. Frankie was all for it, Belinda said that she would need to set up the guest room, she didn’t want them coming quite yet. Her Frankie had moved in not too long ago.

Will wasn’t surprised and happy that they actually talked it out.

Benny had to be told not to pick Belinda up and squeeze her. Frankie gave him a death glare.

Pope and Carmen both squealed, gave hugs and started an argument that lead to an intense game of rock-paper-scissors to determine who would be the godparents. In a major upset, Will was knocked out early. Pope and Benny did five rounds before Benny danced away victorious. Was a rendition of the running man necessary? To Benjamin Miller it was.

The joy in sharing the news with everyone eased both of their anxieties for a time.

It was when Belinda was six months along and Frankie was at one of her follow up appointments with the OBGYN. They’d seen the PCP last week. Her blood pressure was high, but not concerning yet according to the MD so she opted to work from home. It helped at first but her blood pressure crept back up. Frankie made her a fluffy spot in their bed surrounding her with pillows, water and snacks. He told her to stay put. Don’t go anywhere except the bathroom and the bed. He’d call to check in on her as she did reports and such from her laptop.

This system worked until month eight. She hated it. She can’t move around, she’s stuck to this bed, concerned about how worried Frankie is about her. Belinda finished her reports early, she was banking all her time to use after her maternity leave. “I need to get out…it’s the same four walls. Just walking down the street should be okay right?” She was just going to walk out in her slides and a simple dress. It was warm but not hot thankfully. Belinda called Carmen to let her know where she was going, she thought about texting Frankie but she didn’t want him worrying anymore than he already was. “Just down the street. Just down the street.” Letting out a long breath, Belinda felt a few kicks as she made it to the end of the driveway. “I know, momma just wanted to move around. Let’s move around together and we can have a little secret from daddy. Until he’s eaten dinner. The truth is best on a full belly.” She chuckled while waddling down the street. Saying hello to a few neighbors in addition to feeling the wind around her body instead of just near a window was something she didn’t realize she missed.

Belinda ended up at the park at the end of the street and sat on a bench. She rested her feet and watched a few children play, curious when she’d be able to bring these two here to play.

Carmen stopped by with groceries l. She thought Belinda would be back by now but she wasn’t. It was an hour and a half since she’d called her to tell her she went for a walk. She called and texted her but she didn’t answer. “Ahh…Belinda. I swear…” She put the groceries away and Belinda returned her call. She’s sobbing and frightened.

“C-Carmen. There’s a bag next to my bed. Pick me up from the park, please. I think…my water broke. I just wanted a walk…to get out. It’s early right? Too early…What if I did something wrong? How will I explain to Frankie that I didn’t listen…?” She paused and it sounds like she’s moving.

“Belinda you’re not still walking are you? Honey don’t worry about any of that, there’s nothing to be done. Just get somewhere you can sit and wait for me. You’re still near the park right?” Carmen hurried to the bedroom and found a black duffel back at the foot of the bed. She grabbed it, made sure she had her purse and locked the front door. She tossed the back in the passenger seat, texted Pope to get Frankie to the hospital immediately and sped toward the park. “Linda you’re still on the line right?!”

“Yes. I found a bench. It hurts to sit. I’m standing and leaning over.” She feels a little woozy but stays on the line. Carmen hops out of the car and ushers her to the backseat laying her down. “I’m sorry. Does Frankie know? Is he coming? I should…” Belinda is dozing a bit, Carmen is yelling at her to stay awake. Within ten minutes, they’re at the hospital.

Frankie is checking gauges in one of the helicopters. Finally off probation, he’s back to flying. Santiago calls three times while he’s trying to focus. “What hermano (brother)? Where’s the fire?” His tone is peppered with a smile.

“Dammit Fish! Answer the first time! Carmen is taking Belinda to the hospital! Her water broke. I’m on my way to get you, Will and Benny will bring your truck over. Grab your shit and meet me out front!” Frankie hopped out of the helicopter, grabbed his bag from his text and told his manager that he was leaving. His twins are coming. Pope was indeed waiting outside. “Look man.” Hopping in his truck, the men took off toward the hospital. “Carmen said that Belinda had trouble staying awake, but it looks like they’re replacing some fluids she said.”

“She’s a month early! Is that bad for her? Is she going to be okay?” Frankie wants his children to be okay, but what is he going to do if she’s not okay, if Belinda isn’t okay. “I should have just told her to be on bed rest. Not even work from home. Pope, what am I gonna do if…”

“Shut up Frankie. Don’t you dare. She’s going to be fine. Your kids are going to be fine. You’re going to see them in the next few minutes and be there with her. Our kids are going to have play dates and I’m going to beat your ass for actually allowing Benny to be your kids’ godfather.”

“He won fair and square Pope. Your bionic ass couldn’t win.” The pilot laughed nervously, he appreciated him trying to calm him.

“My hair and ass are the only things that aren’t bionic, you jerk.” Pope’s smirk lingered on his face as they rounded the corner and pulled up at the ER doors. “I’m still kicking your ass once your girl and your kids are home safe. I’m parking the truck.”

Frankie nodded and ran to the front desk, asked where Belinda’s room and a staff member took him to her room. There was a flourish of noises, Morales couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. He knocked and opened the door.

He was too late.

In each arm, Belinda held a baby boy with dark curls, round cheeks and noses that had a slope to them. His bizcochito (little cake) had two pudíns (puddings). She looked exhausted and was covered in a sheen of sweat, but glowed under the fluorescent lights. He kissed each of his sons and then cupped Belinda’s face, kicking his shoes off and hopping in the hospital bed with her. The nurse warned that since she’s just given birth it’s best to be gentle with her. Frankie nodded. “Gracias mi amor (Thank you my love). You make me whole mi vida (my life). Can I give you and my sons my last name? I’m not going anywhere Belinda. You’re home to me.”

There’s no more anxiety or distress in his face. The lines on his face are from how wide Francisco Morales is smiling, even his eyes look like there might be glimmers in them. She wants to reach for his hair, his nose, run a thumb over his lips. Her sons busy her hands and arms. “I’ve given you two children Morales and heart. I’d better be getting your last name Francisco.” They both laughed, with Carmen hugging Santiago before Will and Benny walked in.

“There’s just so much love in this room. I have one question for you two, which kid is which? Am I the godfather to them both? Do I get to pick one?” Benny stands at the foot of the bed. All the adults in the room groaned and a pillow hit Benny in the face courtesy of Frankie.

Belinda and the babies remained in the hospital as did Frankie except to go home and get changes of clothes. Finally, after a week, they were able to go home. Their little village of friends had set up the cribs, bought pampers, bibs, onsies, toys, blankets, booties, and the newly engaged couple wasn’t sure what the rest was, but they would figure it out.

The night they came home with their sons, Frankie tested out each crib just in case, despite them being put together by Santiago and Will. They were fine. Eventually, both Rafael and Raúl were put down to sleep. Belinda was able to shower finally with Frankie’s help. Laying down in their bed, they watched their sons sleep.

“Everything’s finally fit together for us. It was pretty disjointed for a while there Belinda.”

“Yeah, we should have actually talked about it a lot sooner.”

“Before or after you asked me to move in while you were full?” She pinched Frankie’s nose.

“You’re lucky I’m not supposed to exert myself. Our timing is-“

“Impeccable. Given we’ve got dos pudíns velludos (two hairy puddings).” Frankie kisses her cheek and she tries to hold in her laughter, it makes her stomach and pelvis hurt.

“Do not call our sons hairy puddings. Also, all that hair is from both of us, though it looks like you spat them out.”

“I love them already so they have their nicknames like you do mi bizcochito. You’ll just have to live with it.”

“That’s all I’ve wanted Frankie it wasn’t quite in the order I thought but we’re in this together. I have all of you like you have all of me.”

A night like many to come where they dose off to sleep in each others’ arms and are awakened by one or both of their son’s crying. It’s alright because they work as a team to change, feed and burp them before reading various books. From Dr. Seuss to flight manuals they would impart pieces of themselves onto their children.

There were turns, trips, stumbles and misunderstandings but Frankie and Belinda proved that in spite of their differences and fears, the pieces could be put together to make them a family. Plus two.

VII - Eyes

Fans of the hairy puddings (Code name: R&R) 🍼🍼

@yorksgirl @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @guelyury

@bitchwitch1981 @katw474 @rosecentaur1916 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @trulybetty

@maggiemayhemnj @schnarfer @rav3n-pascal22 @bishtrouille @alltheotps

@pedroshotwifey @readingiskeepingmegoing

[tomorrowxtogether]

The 10 best Tomorrow X Together songs

Ahead of the boyband’s 2024 ‘Act: Promise’ world tour, NME picks the best cuts from their enchanting back catalogue 

There’s always been something magical about Tomorrow X Together, even before they started adding elements of enchantment to their music in late-2019. Over their first five years together, the Big Hit Music boyband have been consistently spellbinding in their approach to sharing their experiences of youth, whether weaving colourful creations in their early days or dialling up the angst as they screeched into young adulthood.

Along with their penchant for genre-hopping, it all makes for a vibrant back catalogue that doesn’t always follow the expected path. TXT will always keep you guessing and never stay in one spot for too long. Ahead of their upcoming 2024 ‘Act: Promise’ world tour, which kicks off next month in Seoul, NME looks back on their enchanting catalogue.

Honourable mentions

‘Blue Spring’ (2023) ‘MOA Diary (Dubaddu Wari Wari)’ (2021) ‘Puma’ (2020) ‘Wishlist’ (2020) ‘LO$ER=LO♡ER’ (2021)

10. ‘Ghosting’ (2020)

The opening track of 2020’s ‘minisode 1: Blue Hour’ glistens in its gloominess. Through clouds of shoegaze-y guitars, the five-piece tell stories of friends who’ve become like spectres and the isolation that comes with growing apart from those you love. It’s a beautiful piece of songwriting that highlights TXT’s knack for taking trending lingo and using it to share their tales of youth.

9. ‘New Rules’ (2019)

Since their beginning, Tomorrow X Together have served as guides and companions through life and that’s no different on ‘New Rules’. The funky hip-hop track details rebellious phases sparked by the frustrations of life, piled on by social media, teachers and class. If you’re looking for a way to break free from it all, this addictive cut will help you.

8. ‘Can’t You See Me?’ (2020)

Even without watching the flame-filled music video for ‘Can’t You See Me?’, you can feel the scorching emotions that course through the song. Rather than showcasing them in the big rock anthemics that would come later in TXT’s journey, it’s the more seemingly subdued moments that sizzle here. “With resentment, my heart is heavy / ‘Cause you don’t understand me,” Beomgyu and Hueningkai murmur in the second verse, every ounce of that weight pouring through their words.

7. ‘Good Boy Gone Bad’ (2022)

On the lead track from 2022’s ‘minisode 2: Thursday’s Child’, TXT fully embrace the moment when it feels like you’ve hit an emotional rock bottom. Instead of wallowing in the misery, they make it their new super power – there’ll be no more “pathetic days” left on the calendar when you rise up with hearts “gone dead”. Set to searing rock, it’s become one of the most electrifying moments in the group’s concerts, not least Yeonjun’s bridge that ends in the laughter of someone truly cold-hearted and the declaration: “I like being bad.”

6. ‘Crown’ (2019)

The song that started it all. Tomorrow X Together’s debut single ushered in a boyband who sounded refreshingly bright but, beneath the bubbling synths, were dealing with the complicated growing pains of adolescence. Years on from its release, it still feels like a perfect snapshot of the dichotomy of youth – at once energetic, curious, self-doubting and concerned.

5. ‘Tinnitus (Wanna Be a Rock)’ (2023)

The boyband dabble in Afro-pop on this standout from ‘The Name Chapter: Temptation’. Despite its slinky rhythms that are practically a call to groove onto the dancefloor, lyrically it finds the group wanting to sink into a stillness caused by a crisis of confidence. “Rockstar minus the star / Just a rock, OK?” Taehyun sighs, preparing to descend.

4. ‘0X1=LOVESONG (You Know I Love You)’ (2021)

The moment TXT leaned all the way into the raw, serrated sensitivities of emo. With the help of featured singer Seori, ‘0X1=LOVESONG’ wears its feelings on its sleeve so viscerally it’s hard not to get swept up in its storm of emotion. Although the five-piece’s storyline would later disavow the need for connection, here it was still an essential, the group crying out for a loved one to “take my hand” and save them from being swallowed up by life.

3. ‘I’ll See You There Tomorrow’ (2024)

The concept of fate emerges on this sunkissed house jam, the beats forming a linking pattern between TXT and the person they believe is “meant to be”. ‘I’ll See You There Tomorrow’ is fresh and breezy, while its post-chorus refrain of “there’ll be no more sorrow, I’ll see you there tomorrow” could serve as a slogan for the comfort that spills out of the group’s catalogue.

2. ‘9 and Three Quarters (Run Away)’ (2019)

The title track of ‘The Dream Chapter: Magic’ more than lives up to the sorcery in the album’s title. Sprinkled with sparkling melodies that form the aural equivalent of the magic dust that accompanies wands casting spells in movies, the song captured the heart of much of TXT’s early storyline. It’s an ode to friendship and the feeling of finding people to run alongside you as you buckle up for the rollercoaster of life.

1. ‘Eternally’ (2020)

Tomorrow X Together have never been ones to shy away from trying something new, and that spirit quietly fuels ‘Eternally’, the stand-out track from ‘The Dream Chapter: Eternity’. What starts out as a gentle lullaby pleading soon morphs into something darker and prowling. The beat switch is tellingly signalled by a rapid-fire gunshot and the verse that follows feels like a villain origin story. That the group are able to pull off the revolving door of switch-ups on this track with such elegance is nothing short of impressively exhilarating.

[rat-father]

Part 2 tomorrow im sleepy rn

-- tw;; conditioned whumpee, pet whump, (fear of) abandonment, reluctant caretaker, not bad but not the best caretaker, self deprication, caretaker new master --

Caretaker's mother had always told them not to make eye contact with the homeless. Not to give them the time of day or interact with them. Keep to yourself and walk past.

But the scarred man barely managing to stay upright on his knees caught them too off guard for them to realize their mistake of staring, until he stared back. He flinched back against the fence, rattling the loose metal bars. And Caretaker took a step back out of instinct in return. Their eyes scanned the surrounding empty streets before falling back on the dull, worn out collar around the man's neck. They could barely make out a name on the metal tag shaking alongside him.

They approached him carefully like he was an animal ready to pounce. With a slight stutter and as much distance between them as viable they pinched the tag between their fingers and read the name.

"Whumpee?"

Even their soft voice made his eyes dart up to them and his body push back further into the fence. The position already couldn't be comfortable on its own, but they imagined the old wounds and scars made the pain worse.

"Ah…Is, is that your name?" Caretaker asked.

His breath hitched and he nodded quietly.

"Okay,"

They put distance between the two of them again to put together their thoughts. But perhaps Whumpee thought they would walk away, because he scrambled forward to their feet and pressed his forehead on the ground before them. Caretaker stifled their yelp with a hand over their mouth.

"I'm not…I'm not leaving you, bud.." Although they wished they could more and more by the second.

"Please," a tiny voice croaked beneath them, clearing his throat to be more audible. "Please, I can be good— I will be good for you. I will be a good pet and obey. Please take me in, Master."

Caretaker desperately looked around once more, but it was still just them and the abandoned pet on the lone streets. They sighed.

"Okay, okay, I'll… take care of you, alright? I just have to— ah! I'm gonna be late for work!"

They took the pet by their arm and dragged them to his feet. Whumpee stumbled after them as they ran back into the apartment building. Caretaker missed their pocket completely whilst rushing to get the keys out, fumbling with the lock and finally throwing him inside when the door opened.

Whumpee still had enough strength in him for his reflexes to save him from hitting the ground face first, landing mostly on his bruised arm instead. With a short groan he pushed himself back on his knees. Master had closed the door and left likely before he even hit the ground. The pet had already taken too much of their precious time, and he'd have to make up for it later. Guilt and ecstasy swirled in his chest, knowing he'd finally found a home again, and already made his new master upset. His master who was hesitant in taking the ugly pet in to begin with.

The pet could only hope Master would take mercy on him, and bless him with another, more proper, chance to prove his worth.