#i told the stars about queue

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 3

"Life Less Frightening" by Rise Against

[goldenhypen]

; ⎯ it’s you, only you .

synopsis. why is it that jay—known as the cool and confident guy around school—quiets down only around you?

pairing. jay x reader ⋅ genres. fluff ⋅ wc. 0.8k ⋅ warnings. stage fright?

prompts 1. holding their hands when they are shaking ; 18. sharing a soft smile across a crowded room ⋅ requested ⋅ dark blood event

a/n. aka shy jay w his crush ^^

“okay, y/n, you’re up in two minutes! good luck!”

at the sound of those words, your heart sunk deeper than where it was previously sitting in your stomach already. your breaths grew uneven and your hands began to tremble.

but it seems jay noticed it all.

you were waiting backstage as you were about to perform for your school’s year-end show.

jay on the other hand, was also backstage because he had just finished his one performance earlier. and to say his dance was jaw dropping was an understatement.

though you and jay didn’t interact much, you would always notice his cool demeanour towards all those around him. he emitted confidence day to day. but for some reason, when he pulled out his moves on stage, it was almost completely unexpected to you. one could say, he was a total different being on stage. and you admired every bit of it.

if only you could have that confidence on stage… which reminded you, you were about to perform in a matter of seconds! and suddenly you found yourself shaking again.

“hey,” jay’s familiar voice started from behind you. you whipped your head around, staring at his eyes that wouldn’t leave your own. “you’re shaking. are you nervous?”

you gulped and nodded, sweat threatening to already drip down your forehead.

immediately, jay took your hands in his, and for a moment in only shot your heart rate to the stars, but then you relaxed after realizing how gentle and soft his hands were. they carried warmth and comfort in them.

“i know how you feel,” he told you, “but don’t let the nerves get to you while you’re up there. you only get to perform this piece once, so have fun with it. and even if you mess up, the audience likely won’t know any better if you just play it off and keep going. just have fun on stage. plus, you’ve been preparing this for months, you’re going to kill it, i know it.”

his words sent chills of confidence down your body, causing you to also feel warm and delightful at his tone.

the music to the last performance was coming to an end. it was your queue.

jay let go of your hands, and your attention was brought back to him. and this was when you noticed that from charismatic and cool, he seemed to suddenly drop to shy and nervous, which was strange to see from such a bold man.

he gulped as he brushed a hand through his hair, giving you a final, “good luck.”

he rushed away, and you were left curious as you entered the stage.

you took two deep breaths and began your performance.

seeing all the people in the audience made your nerves soar up a little, but that was until you spotted jay in the front row, and that reminded you of how he said to have fun on stage.

he gave you a smile from the audience, causing you to mirror it and begin to enjoy your time.

before you knew it, it was over, and you were already walking offstage.

when the entire show was finished, people were congratulating you for your job well done, smiles were being exchanged, and pictures taken, until you spotted jay a few feet away waiting for you.

“you did it,” he said happily but still soft and shy.

you grinned, “thanks for your advice and everything. you helped a lot.”

he looked away, smiling sheepishly and running his hand through his hair again before shaking his head, “no, it’s nothing. i just know what it’s like being there and feeling that way. and i know it would be nice to have someone to encourage you through that.”

“that’s really sweet of you, jay.”

he chuckled nervously, eyes still unable to meet yours, such a contrast from his initial aura backstage.

“y/n,” he started, still slightly timid but regaining his speed, “would you maybe wan—do you have any plans after this?”

you let out a soft giggle, “no, why?”

he smiled, “do you want to get something to eat? it’ll be my treat.”

“just me and you?” you clarified.

“uh—yeah, but if that makes you uncomf—”

“no, not at all!” you interrupted to reassure him. “so is this like a date then?”

“uhm,” he paused, thinking while scratching the back of his head, “do you want it to be?”

you smiled, getting shy to respond.

taking the hint, jay answered, “yeah. like a date.”

you nodded with a growing grin, and jay smirked before gesturing to the exit and walking out together, the start of a new and exciting stage in your and jay’s relationship.

a/n. inspired by the fact that i have a performance in the morning ,,, wish me luck :’> /j ,,, if any of you have school performances or just shows in general,, like ever ig sjsjs ,, gl to y’all, jay’s words to y/n are also mine to you <3 tho i don’t love how this was written, i still hope you enjoyed my loves <3 likes and rbs are always appreciated <3

event masterlist.

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[lynnlovesthestars]

Hi! I’m new to your blog and have been loving all of your works!

If you’re comfortable with it, I was wondering how you think Astarion would react/feel about a virgin tav/reader who went through SA when they were younger, and wish to wait until they are both completely ready and comfortable with being intimate?

Hii, I can definitely do it, though i will merge it with another ask I received- asking to write hcs about Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

I will say, making it with the hc has been a little easier on me, usually when i write about SA i spend an insane amount of time making sure i'm comfortable and you (readers) are as well, and i hesitate a lot before publishing it *(queue up scars and blood, that I wrote on an impulse after a nightmare, and it took me a solid week before publishing it)*

ANYWAYS.

ofc I hope this will be of comfort to you, and it won't trigger you.. sometimes all we want is to find solace into our favourite characters, so i wish tonight this will in a way comfort you...

and if anyone needs to vent, or talk, feel free to hit up my dm's, they are a safe space for anyone and i'll always offer up comfort.. we don't need to struggle alone, and sometimes being heard is what we need to make a new step forward<3

As always, my little stars, excercise kindness! we don't know who's gonna pass by this, and we don't know how hard it can be for them.

This being said, I hope you'll like it!

Headcanon: Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

Pairing: Astarion x reader. Warnings: mentions of past trauma and SA. wc: 1.7k

-He starts suspecting something about it around the time of the tiefling party. He had offered to sneak out while everyone was asleep to "enjoy yourselves", but you refused right away. He definitely picked up some involuntary movement you did that told him there was more to the "I'm not ready". You probably flinched or jerked away, usually it would go unnoticed, but Astarion could recognize the subtle harshness hidden behind your reaction.

-He doesn't want to pry into it, as much as he needed to know as much as possible about you- he says for the sake of his undead skin- he wasn't entirely confident you trusted him enough to share your past. Also he wasn't sure he could handle someone confiding in him, but he would never admit it. At the end of the day, all he knew about social interaction were faint memories of his magistrate life, or means to survival. He simply wasn't sure he could have the empathy to deal with someone else's emotions, both in good and in bad.

-When you meet the gur, and you start peering into his past, he can't hide the very obvious rock in the shoe, Cazador and his spawn life, and it is because of the gur that you actually open up to him. When he starts going deeper and deeper into Cazador's orders to him and his repulsion towards sex, you do feel like you can share something so intimate, that's been heavy on you, well since it happened. 

-The first time you mention it though, you are very blunt.

-"And honestly I don't know anything else besides disgust for it" He'd admit as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Astarion" You'd start, you wanted to hold his hand to comfort him, cause that kind of pain you knew. "I understand how you feel though. If you need—" He cut you short, anger was bubbling quickly in his stomach. You swore his face almost reddened in anger as he raised his voice.

"No, you don't" He was one sound shirt from hissing at you. "You cannot understand what it feels like" He'd sneer at you. "No one can understand what it feels like to be stripped of your bodily autonomy". In a way the harshness in his voice was like a slap to your face, cause you did in fact know. From the other, you didn't expect your brain to beeline directly towards that sealed drawer in your brain where you tried to hide the haunting memory. 

“I went through it myself, you shithead” You got up, uncaring of whatever reaction he could have in that moment, and you just left.

-He was taken aback, on different levels, both because of your sudden shift in mood, because of the blunt reveal, and deep down because he was sorry, though again he’d never admit it out loud.

-You ignored him for the rest of the day, avoiding his stare and disappearing in your tent right after you were done setting camp, and that unsettled him so much that he was weighing the possibility of apologizing cause, of course, he didn’t know.

-You skipped dinner, and even when everyone else was asleep, you didn’t come out from your tent to take your usual nightly walk. The pang of guilt was becoming more like a stab as he saw the light in your tent still burning, and the faint shadow of you moving around restless.

-He prepared a peace offering, a bowl of the leftover stew, as he had to muster the guts to apologize. 

-”Sorry, I was an asshole earlier, I brought you food” He blurted out right after he knocked on the wooden support of the tent, and he was surprised when you still let him in.

-Initially it was awkward, cause you were eating and not saying anything, but after a while he mustered up the courage to offer his shoulder to you. “If you even wish to talk” He’d say.

-You told him a bit of what happened, without going too much into detail, since you were still shaken from the memories that resurfaced.

-Since then he started to learn your boundaries: how to catch your attention without startling you, what were triggering topics for you, how you liked physical touch, and how it triggered you as well.

-In a way he becomes very protective of you, especially if you open up more often about your trauma, and you can see it.

-He made sure everyone respected your boundaries, whether it was Gale with his weave thing pulling you too close, or a stranger breathing on your neck, he was always ready to remind them of their place. 

-”Don’t you see our dear captain doesn't want to be that close?!” “Keep your hands to yourself, they don't like being grabbed by the wrists” “Get away from her, before I stab you” 

-He noticed how you always double checked the perimeter of the camp before the sun would set, and before getting in your tent you’d always look around in the distance, trying to spot if something was out of place. So he joined you in your routine, helping you check around and make sure you were ready in case anything could have happened.

-As you get closer, and you both open up more to each other, he even suggests he moves his tent closer to yours. “I can keep an eye around” Was his explanation, when he first brought it up. 

-And it helped so much with your sleep, you felt a little safer.

-If you didn’t feel safe at night, he’d suggest putting your tents together into one. Maybe it was a way to keep you closer, or he needed reassurance, but he made sure you knew you could place your bedroll anywhere as far or as close to him as you liked.

-Eventually as your bond would deepen and deepen, and you’d grow fond of each other, you found yourselves rediscovering your touch together. It started with your fingers tapping on his arm as you were walking, or a strand of your hair being pulled behind your ear. Some nights you’d sit close in your tent, and would hold hands, caress each other’s cheeks, and slowly even reach out for a kiss or two.

-It was a slow process, where you really got to know each other like no one else ever did. You could read each other like a book, yet you never shied away from asking each other for consent for anything.

-”Can I hold your hand” “Can I kiss your cheek” “Can I rest my head on your chest”

-The thing you both struggled with the most, was falling asleep holding each other. You’d panic very quickly when you would feel your chest becoming tighter. He’d move away as quickly as possible, and give you the space you needed.

-When he confesses he has been falling for you, it’s time to approach the very delicate topic of sex. You opened up about the fact that you wanted to wait ‘till you were ready, and he agreed without hesitation. Of course because he understood where you came from, he never asked for any help either, if he’d feel like he needed some release, he’d disappear for a bit and deal with it himself, without making you feel like a burden.

“I just want to make sure we are on the same page on this” You’d say as you crossed your arms, almost as if you wanted to fold yourself in and away. “If you want to have sex, I can’t right now” You’d start saying, but stop on your tracks for a second. “Wait, not that I can’t. I don’t want to have sex at the moment” You’d correct yourself, confident in your statement, he wasn’t even thinking about it, though he respected completely.

“I get it, and it’s okay my love” He’d say, patting your shoulder, and wondering whether he wanted to hold your hand or kiss it, he wanted to let you know he truly understood. “I don’t want to either” He smiled, and in that moment it was like both you two finally breathed. You’d reach for his hand to hold it in yours.

“It’s not because of you though” You wanted to explain to him, you were so close it was something you were ready to share, especially since you were slowly walking towards a different level of intimacy together, he had to know. “I want to do it when we are both ready” 

“I understand, my sweet, there’s no need for explanations” He’d smile again, one of his fangs slightly poked out against his lip. “You said you don’t want sex yet, so it’s no” 

“I’m a virgin” You’d blurt out, and that was something he didn’t entirely expect.

“Oh” He’d say at first, but as he noticed your cheeks slowly warming up, he pulled you closer to him, his forehead against yours. “It’s okay, I don’t care about it” He’d exhale. “As long as it’s you, I don’t care about anything” 

-When you reach Baldur’s Gate and finally you settle in the elfsong tavern, you made sure you always had a corner of time dedicated to helping each other relearn touch. 

-You'd lay next to each other in different levels of nakedness depending on how you felt at the moment, and you'd spend your time tracing each other's features. Whenever you'd feel comfortable enough to venture into a new thing, he'd ask for permission. 

-"Would you feel comfortable if I touched your hips?" "Can I trace your scars with my fingers?” “May I pull you closer?”

-You didn't fight time, you didn't rush towards sex. It came slowly and it was a process full of ups and downs. Some attempts ended up with you both sobbing, too overwhelmed. Other's ended up with panic attacks. Eventually though, after a lot of work together, you reached a point where you'd be able to make love.

-it was a very soft moment between you two. It involved a lot of comforting, kisses and patience, but it was something so profound, it wasn't only about shared pleasure, but it was about connecting your bodies and your souls. In a way it was like a wedding for you two it was the peak of trust you could have with each other. 

-He'd whisper so many times how proud he was of you, how much he loved you, and how glad he was that you were the one that would spend their life with him.

-Tears eventually arrived, they were the tears of two souls that finally had reclaimed a bit of their freedom. It was the cries of someone that was finally healing. 

[probably-writing-x]

The Stars That Shine

Summary: could you do something w conrad based off of mary’s song oh my my my by taylor swift 🥺

Author’s Note: Im so sorry I struggled so much writing this but I hope you love it and it’s what you were hoping for <3

It was like there was just something between you and Conrad that everyone else could see even when you couldn’t. You’d grown up in the house next to his in Cousins and so, every summer without fail, you spent every waking moment with him. It was like summer started so nothing else mattered. He was two years older than you and for the majority of your life he’d made that abundantly clear - he treated you like a little girl in comparison to him. He saw you in the same way he saw Jere, younger than him and so someone he had to be responsible for.

When you were 8, he threw you into the pool and then fought you when you tried to get back at him for it. You’d slipped on the concrete and cut your knee, and Susannah had told him he was too big to be fighting you. He’d patched you up with a plaster over the cut and bought you an ice cream from the van when it came past.

When you were 10, he punched a boy that jumped the queue in front of you over at the boardwalk. You’d been queuing to use the karts, and a boy had treated you like you were invisible. Conrad grabbed your arm and pulled you behind him, turning the guy around and clocking him in the jaw. He bruised his knuckles and you bought him fries from the stall to make up for it. You remembered it every time you ended up back at that boardwalk.

When you were 12, he got dared to kiss you one night when the group of you were all camping out at the beach. He refused at first and both of you forgot about it. But, later that night, he’d stopped you on the sand and told you that he never backed down from a dare. You ran away before he had the chance. Neither of you mentioned it after that day.

When you were 14, you realised for the first time that you liked him. He was getting ready for a date and you watched him fix his hair in the mirror, the pain settling on your chest that it wasn’t you he’d be with. He’d told you to wish him luck and you couldn’t find a word to respond with. A few hours later, Conrad had returned and told you dating wasn’t for him, he’d shook hands with you that he’d never go on a first date again. You’d laughed and taken the bet, hoping to God for just a moment that the next one would be with you.

When you turned 16, it was like Conrad saw you completely differently. You turned up in Cousins that summer and he saw you as a whole new person. He’d looked at you on the driveway like he was looking at a stranger, until his hand stretched out and he ruffled your hair on your head. You blushed under his touch and prayed he didn’t notice.

But there was just something so different about that summer. You felt Conrad’s eyes on you whenever he had the chance, the way he listened in to what you said just a little more intensely, the way he defended you when the boys started being dicks. The little things that just didn’t feel the same as they normally did.

It was that same summer that Conrad first took you out in his truck. His father had bought it for him for Christmas and got Jere one too - now that both of them could drive. Conrad had always complained that he’d have to wait for Jeremiah but it didn’t seem to matter now that he had his car. It started with just little trips to the store, spending a little longer with each other browsing through the aisles before he took the long way home. And then one night, when you couldn’t sleep, it felt like everything changed.

———

You made your way slowly downstairs, breezing past your parents’ room where they both slept soundly. With no real reason why, you just couldn’t sleep tonight. And there was only so long you could lay in bed waiting for sleep to take you.

You slip on a hoodie over your bralette and shorts and grab a pair of flip flops, heading out of the back door and into the yard. It was so much more peaceful at night. You’d sleep out here if you could.

It was rare you spent much time at home in this place, however. All of your best memories were made in the house next door - Susannah was the hostess and your parents always accepted that. You walk down the length of the garden alongside the hedged fence joins the two yards, your eyes flicking into their side.

That’s when you see him. Illuminated by the lights in the water, seemingly giving him an eerie glow, his legs drifting back and forth under the surface from where he sat at the edge of the pool.

“Con?” You hiss into the silent air and he instantly bolts his head up to look at where the noise has come from.

He smiles when he sees you, standing up from the poolside and wiping his hands on his shorts, “Are you stalking me (Y/l/n)?”

“Don’t flatter yourself Fisher,” You roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He smirks and makes his way over to you until you’re both stood in front of each other, separated by the short hedge between you.

“Why are you awake?”

Conrad shrugs, “I never sleep early.”

You nod, “I can’t sleep.”

You feel the way his eyes watch you, the way they seem to melt into your skin. The way you seem to heat up just a little under his gaze.

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

“Now? Con it’s like 1am,” You frown, glancing back up to him.

He shrugs, “Do you have anything better to do?”

And so, he disappears back into his house and you take the alleyway at the side of yours, waiting for him out the front against the passenger door of his car.

Only moments later, he steps outside, swinging his keys around one finger as he makes his way over to you. You both clamber in and he drives off without another word.

You look out of the passenger window at the passing cars and don’t notice the way he watches you. The way his eyes are on you as if they can’t be torn away. Conrad wasn’t exactly sure when things had changed - or if they’d ever changed at all. He just knew that he saw you now and saw someone he couldn’t be without. Like someone had made him see you in a completely different light. Had he always felt like this and only now realised?

“Have you seen the-“ You turn your head back around and notice his eyes solely on you, feeling a blush burn at your cheeks, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just-“ He stops himself.

“Focus on the road Fisher,” You roll your eyes, drawing your knees up to your chest on the chair.

“That’s my sweatshirt,” He points out, turning another corner as the two of you drive down another country lane.

Eventually, he parks the car up on the hills overlooking the town, both of you still sat in the front seats staring out over the dark view.

“So why couldn’t you sleep?” Conrad asks you, leaning his head back against the headrest.

You shrug, “I don’t know. Just stuff on my mind I guess.”

He nods, “Go on.”

“Do you-“ You stop yourself, shifting in your seat so that you’re sat sideways, facing him directly, “Do you feel like… I don’t know, like this summer has been different than before?”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows the lump in his throat, “In what way?”

“Come on Con,” You scoff, “I feel like I stranger showing up here again, I know you’re all looking at me like I’m a new person.”

He jumps the gun quickly to correct you, “It’s not like that, I know you’re still you.”

You roll your eyes, “Then why are you being so different with me?”

“I just-“ He stops himself, reaching out to brush your hair away from your face, as if he wants to frame your features in the perfect light, “It just feels like this summer I actually woke up. Saw what was right in front of me.”

“And what’s that?” You stop yourself from smiling, feeling so nervous with the way he cupped your cheek.

His thumb brushes along your jaw, until it is at the base of your chin, “You.”

Slowly, cautiously, like he’s giving you both the time to overthink, he draws you into him and you pull to him like a magnet. His breath fans over your lips before you close the space between you, his lips soft and uncertain against yours. You hadn’t kissed anyone before, you didn’t have a clue on what to do. But his hand keeps you pulled into him and his fingers are in your hair and his lips move against yours like they were meant to be there. He holds you like he’s been waiting to for a short forever.

Conrad’s hands move lower, pressing against your back to pull you into him, both of you angled awkwardly over the console of the car. He fumbles in his seat to draw you close to him despite the block between you and both of you laugh against each other.

“Terrible place for a first kiss,” He mumbles against you, his forehead pressing against yours.

You smile and pull away from him, “I think we’re just impatient.”

“Oh I think we’ve both waited long enough to do that,” He scoffs, “C’mere.”

One hand drops to draw his chair as far away from the wheel as it will go before they’re both back onto you, gripping and grasping at your hoodie to pull you over to him. You giggle as you clamber over onto his lap.

He grips your waist as you settle down onto his thighs, your noses bumping together in the small space.

“Hi,” You grin, holding both of his shoulders as if convincing yourself he was real.

His hands slip beneath the waistband of your hoodie, for no other reason than to convince himself that you were real too, that he could feel you there.

“Hi.”

———

You and Conrad had stayed together for the following year without any hiccups. He drove to your home, you drove to Boston, you met in the middle in Cousins. You spent Thanksgiving with his family, and he came to yours after Christmas. You called each other nearly every night and the long distance never seemed to feel like too far. All up until when the two of you were back in Cousins. Your parents hadn’t come this summer but you had, and you stayed at Susannah’s place. It was the most time you and Conrad had ever spent together, waking up together, going to sleep together, it was all you’d been wanting since he’d first kissed you in that car.

But all pieces of heaven come with tiny bits of hell. And it didn’t take too long for the perfect bubble to burst.

You’d been at the beach at a bonfire party, and you’d been accepting any drink that someone offered you. It was starting to hit you a little bit, the sort of buzz that warmed your veins and heightened your confidence.

“Where’s Con?” You frown at Jeremiah, squinting around the mass of bodies to try and spot your boyfriend.

“I don’t know,” Jere shrugs, “I think I saw him with Steven by the fire.”

You nod and trail your steps in that direction, stumbling a little on the uneven sand.

“Hey!” An unfamiliar pair of hands grab your waist, “Come and dance with me.”

You push them away and turn your head back to see a boy you don’t recognise, rolling your eyes.

“Oh come on, don’t be boring,” He encourages, “Dance with me.”

His hands snake around your waist again and you push them off.

“Get off me!” You exclaim, turning around to face him.

“Oh is that how you’re playing it?” The boy smirks, “What have you got a boyfriend or something?”

“I-“

“Hey, do you want to back the fuck off?” Conrad’s voice bellows from beside you, coming up towards the boy and shoving him square in the chest.

He stumbles backwards on the sand but catches himself before he falls.

“Who the fuck are you?” The boy scoffs, looking up to meet Conrad’s eyes before looking back at you, at the way Conrad shields you with his body, “You’re her boyfriend?”

“How about you leave her alone?” Conrad waves the boy off, watching as he walks off from the both of you before he turns around to face you.

“God he wouldn’t get off me he-“

“We’re going home.”

Conrad’s voice is cold, emotionless - a way you’d never heard him speak towards you.

“Wh-“

“We’re leaving,” He snaps once again, “I’m driving.”

“Con wh-“

He holds your arm in his grasp and tries to lead you away from the party, getting you as far as being just slightly away from the big crowd.

“Conrad get off me, you’re hurting me!” You exclaim, pulling your wrist from his grip, “What’s wrong with you?”

“(Y/n) you’re drunk and we’re going home,” He says harshly, looking at you with eyes that didn’t feel like his own, “Now get in the car.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” You wrap your arms over your chest, “Why are you being like this?”

“Because you’ve got guys fucking trying it on with you, thinking they’ve got a chance with you, and I’m stood right there (Y/n)!”

“Nothing happened!” You half-laugh, “He grabbed me and I told him to stop. What the fuck is wrong with that?”

“You think they don’t think they’ve got a chance with you?” Conrad raises his eyebrows, “Are you fucking blind?”

“No I’m not blind Conrad but I’m not going to fucking cheat on you with the first guy that shows me attention. Who the hell do you think I am?”

His shoulders drop a little like he’s realised the effect, but Conrad being Conrad will only let the mask slip for so long before he’s back to the coldhearted demeanour he seemed to have adopted for the night.

“Okay, we’re taking both of you home,” Steven walks over to interject, “I’ve not been drinking, I’m driving.”

You look at Conrad for a moment longer like you’re hoping he’s going to change his mind and reach out for you and apologise but he doesn’t make any move to do so.

He walks off ahead with Steven and you walk behind with Belly and Jeremiah.

Everyone is deathly silent on the drive home until you reach the house and they mumble a quick ‘good night’ before going into separate bedrooms. Conrad still hasn’t looked you in the eyes and, as you sober up more and more, you’re convincing yourself he never will.

“Con can we please-“

You pause as you watch him rummaging through the closet to pull out a pillow and blanket.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping downstairs,” He returns bitterly, turning around towards the door.

“You can’t be serious,” You scoff, “That’s it? You’re not even going to talk to me about it?”

“I’ve said what I wanted to say,” Conrad shrugs, “We’re not going to agree so now what?”

“We fight it out Conrad. We talk about it like fucking adults,” You shake your head, “We don’t just give up and act like each other’s worst enemy.”

He doesn’t respond.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m unbelievable? I’m not the one with a guys arms around my fucking waist!”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do?” You yell, unbothered about every other pair of listening ears in the house.

Conrad doesn’t reply once more, stepping past you to walk into the corridor.

“You know what? Go fuck yourself Conrad,” You state coldly and he glances back only momentarily to watch as you slam the bedroom door, feeling it shake the room around you before you fall to the floor in tears.

The only other sound comes from his feet creaking the stairs on their way down.

—

The following morning, you’re up before anyone else in the house. You could barely sleep in the night, feeling oddly cramped in the spacious bed, feeling cold in the too-hot room.

Eventually, you give up on trying to sleep any more and instead make your way downstairs.

The couch is empty, apart from a small pile with the pillow and blanket stacked on top of each other. You frown a little at the sight, desperate for the calm of seeing Conrad asleep and peaceful. Your eyes draw outside to the garden where you can just about make out the shape of a body across one of the sun loungers, tucked away in the shade at the side of the pool.

He must be freezing.

You grab the blanket from the couch and tuck it under your arm, stepping outside as quietly as you can to reach Conrad.

His arms are wrapped over his chest and his heads tilted to the side, stretching out his prominent jawline. His breaths are calm and even and you’re conscious as ever to not wake him as you stretch out the blanket to lay over him.

You’re just about to turn away when you see his eyes start to flutter open just a little.

“(Y/n)?” Conrad’s voice croaks as you turn back towards the house.

You grimace a little and look down at the floor, “I- I thought you might be cold.”

Certain more than ever that this wasn’t the time to start up another argument, you start to make your way back inside with hurried steps.

“(Y/n) wait!” Conrad calls after you, “Will you stay?”

You pause in your steps and turn around to face him, “I-“

But it’s easier to not say a word, as if you don’t want to ruin the moment. You walk over to him slowly and he shifts over on the lounger so that there’s one thin half of it for you to lay on. He stretches out an arm and you lay down, resting your head on his chest whilst his other arm drapes the blanket over you. Both of you are silent at first, as if wanting to breathe in every ounce of contact you’d been missing.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Conrad says, trailing one hand up and down your back, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

You nod, “I’m sorry too. I should’ve just listened to you and I know you we-“

“Baby,” He speaks so softly you’re sure your heart swells at the feeling of him coming back to you.

You lean up slightly, just enough to rest on your elbow and turn your head to face him.

“I was in the wrong,” He assures you, “I’d been drinking and I saw you with that guy and I just flipped and I shouldn’t have.”

You nod, resting a hand on his chest, “It was kind of hot when you shoved him though.”

Conrad chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you between his legs, letting you lay over his torso, “You think?”

You shrug, “Just yell at the guy more and not me next time.”

He smiles softly, “Noted.”

———

Arguments came rarely and calmly between the two of you after that day. When you did disagree, it was softer and sadder - less fuelled and less aggressive. Conrad never raised his voice at you, and you never raised your voice at him. You told him when you were upset and he told you when he was irritated. It worked.

You’d been together for five years before things changed again. You were a year out from graduating college and Conrad was practically waiting for the day when you would. He’d already graduated so he came to visit you on the weekends when he could, he worked a job in a research lab in Boston and he’d call you when he finished to tell you about what he’d done that day. The plan for after you graduated was to get the money to buy your parents’ Cousins house from them. The two of you, in Cousins, in the place you’d fell in love. It would be a dream.

You were back in Cousins for the summer after your third year of college and you were, of course, staying with his family and the Conklins. Everything had been completely normal until this one day where it felt like the whole house’s mood had shifted.

“Morning babe,” You yawn as you walk downstairs, into the kitchen where Conrad and Jere are speaking in hushed tones.

They stop abruptly when you walk in.

“Hey!” Jeremiah smiles a little too widely, “I’m gonna… I’m gonna head out.”

You frown as he hurries past you and turn back to Conrad.

“What was that about?”

He shrugs and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Jere’s Jere.”

You rest your head against his chest and breathe in the scent of cologne that clings to his clothes.

“Do you fancy waffles?” He suggests, his hands moving up to your shoulders to massage the skin over the material of your baggy t-shirt.

You pull away from him and narrow your eyes, “Waffles?”

“Don’t look at me like that, Im being romantic,” He rolls his eyes at you, walking away to get the ingredients from the cupboard.

“Oh I’m not complaining,” You grin, pushing yourself to sit on the countertop, “Did I forget an anniversary or something?”

“Can’t a guy do something nice for his girlfriend without an ulterior motive?” He questions you, walking over to open the cupboard beside your legs, pulling out the waffle iron.

You shrug, “We’ll see.”

As he stands back up, he leans in quickly to kiss you, “I’ve got some errands to run later but I’ll be back in time for dinner, Belly suggested we all go out.”

“Our for dinner? We never go out for dinner,” You frown, “Why would we-“

“Stop being so suspicious,” Conrad scoffs, “We’ll go somewhere nice.”

“You’re weird today,” You joke and he rolls his eyes at you once again.

—

Later that day, Conrad’s still out and you get a text from him telling you he’ll meet you at dinner rather than coming home first. You’ve been lounging around the house since he left, soaking in the sun in the garden before you came in to shower.

Belly knocks on your bedroom door as you’re laying across the bed watching The Office.

“Hey!” She grins, “Do you know what you’re wearing to dinner?”

You frown as she drops down onto your mattress, “No I’ll probably just put a jumper on or something.”

“I think-“ She looks around your room, “I think we should dress up.”

“Dress up? You’ll never get the boys to agree to that,” You laugh, “Where are we even going?”

She shrugs, “You’ll find out.”

You lean up onto your elbows and narrow your eyes at her, “Why’s everyone being so suspicious today? What aren’t you telling me?”

She laughs and her mouth moves like she can’t find the words, “I’m not saying anything.”

“Belly!” You exclaim as she hurries off from your bed.

“Just… wear something nice,” She sticks her head around the frame of your door, “Maybe that white dress that Conrad loves.”

You glance over to the closet and glaze over your appearance in the mirror. Maybe you should make an effort, it was rare you were ever going anywhere fancy enough to do anything like that. But they all seemed set on making this night a good one - who were you to question that?

Within the hour, you’ve done some light makeup, brushed through your hair and curled the bits around your face, and pulled on the white dress that Conrad loved so much.

When you step out to walk down the stairs, Belly, Steven, Taylor and Jere are all stood looking up at you.

“What the fuck is going on?” You laugh, “I feel like I’m going to prom.”

“Wh-“ Steven coughs, glancing at the others, “We’re just, um, you know, we don’t want to be late.”

You grab your purse quickly and hurry down the stairs, “Calm down, Im ready now.”

They follow you outside and you all walk over to Jere’s car where you go to open the back door.

“Um,” Belly stops you, “You can sit in the front.”

You look at her with a puzzled expression before climbing into the front with Jeremiah, watching as the other three pile into the back.

“Seriously guys what the fuck is going on?” You question as Jere pulls off from the driveway and starts down the road.

“What are you talking about?” Taylor shrugs, “We’re just hungry.”

“Everyone’s like treading on eggshells with me today, it’s weird,” You comment, “Con seemed like weirdly nervous before he left earlier too, I’ve never seen him run out of the door so quickly and I-“

You pause as the sights around you seem to change, Jeremiah taking a turn down a country lane.

“Jere this isn’t the way to the restaurant we need to go…”

You stop yourself once more as his face breaks into a grin that it’s impossible to hide.

“Seriously what aren’t you telling me?” You turn around to glance at the three of them in the back, all of their heads close together looking out of the windscreen.

Belly nods her head in that direction and you turn back to the front, your lips parting and every single sensation in your body seeming to ignite and disappear all in one moment.

There, in the exact spot where he’d first kissed you, is Conrad.

There’s a scattering of rose petals laid out across the grass and candles lining the edge of the cliff that dips down towards the town.

“Oh my god,” You exhale, glancing at the others in the car with tears already in your eyes.

“Go on, I think he’s waiting for you,” Jeremiah nods, squeezing your arm.

The other three look at you with widened eyes and bright smiles on their faces as you open the passenger door and step out.

“I was worried Jere would take you the wrong way,” Conrad calls over to you as you walk over towards him.

“Conrad this is-“ You stop yourself, glancing around at the sight that you’re sure is something out of a dream, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You look beautiful,” Conrad reaches out his hands for you to hold, “I- God, I’d planned this whole thing and now it’s like I don’t know where to start.”

You step just a foot in front of him and squeeze his hands, looking up at him with watering eyes.

“(Y/n) I love you,” Conrad smiles back at you, “And there are a thousand words I could say now to tell you that, but nothing will be more important than telling you that I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. And so…”

“Oh my god,” You release again, watching as he lowers down onto his knee, reaching back into his pocket to pull out a small velvet box.

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n) will you marry me?”

“Oh my god,” You repeat once again as if they’re the only words going through your brain, your eyes spilling with tears.

Conrad looks up at you with overwhelming emotion in his eyes, “Well?”

“Yes!” You laugh, grasping either side of his face in your hands as he stands up onto his feet, “Of course! Yes!”

He looks down to push the silver ring onto your finger before wrapping his arms around your waist, lifting you up into his grasp before he lowers you down to the ground. His eyes shift into that same adoration they’d held for you when you first came here that night, and he leans in to kiss you with the same excitement as that first time too.

At the sight, a chorus of cheers extend from the car and you both glance over to see all four of them staring out the window with wide grins over their faces.

You laugh through the tears in your eyes and Conrad tightens his arm around your waist, pulling you as close to him as humanly possible.

In that moment, in that perfect moment, you think of your six year old self, when you’d been a blushing mess meeting Conrad for the first time. Your twelve year old self so terrified at the thought of kissing him. The sixteen year old self that first kissed him in that car. And every year since of loving him.

You see yourselves getting married, your families laughing and telling you they knew it would be this way all along. The two of you growing old together, watching your kids grow up too. And, eventually, being sat in the same spot on this same cliff overlooking this same town, with the boy who’d held your heart for your entire life.

The boy who’d always be your Connie.

[spidybaby]

hey can i get one with Pablo, where he reacts to his gf after winning at the vmas? thanks

Our Song

Summary: Gavi surprise you after your win at the vmas ✨️

Warnings: cursing.

"I'm so nervous." You say biting your nail. The car is in the queue for the carpet.

"Princesa, don't worry about it. You're going to rock it."

"I don't even think I'm going to win."

"I think that just being there, able to have a platform to share your amazing art, is already a win, babe."

"So you think my art is amazing." You say, joking with him. "Thank you, mi amor"

"Hey, Y/n, we're almost there." Your manager announced. That was the signal for you to say your goodbyes to him.

"Mi amor, I have to go." You pout, not wanting to say goodbye.

"Break a leg, or I don't know. But I love you so much." He laughs, making a ducky face, sending a kiss.

"Te quiero." (I love you) you say, sending him a kiss and telling him to go to sleep.

You take two deep breaths, touching your wrist where the silver bracelet is. The little "P6" in honor of your boyfriend, a gift he made you on your anniversary.

"Ready?" They ask you. You nod.

The screams of the people waiting to see the artists are the only sounds you can hear. The flashes hit you and the camera crew focusing on your arrival. You wave your hands to the public. Making them yell your name.

Your manager pushes you lightly to the way of the carpet. The theme was pink, pink carpet, and pink awards.

You pose for the cameras, smiling at them. Most of the time, all they say is "look over here." Or "on your left." Like if they're Steve Rogers. But this time, the fans screaming are overpowering their voices.

You walk over to the interview spot. Your manager set you up for one only because you didn't feel like doing more than that.

"Hello, hello, so happy to see you." The blonde reporter says. She's one of the nicest people you have ever met in the media. "Oh God, you look amazing tonight. Tell me who you are wearing?"

"Hello to you too." You laugh. "Well, I'm wearing Versace. Donatella and I designed this look for our new collaboration."

"It's amazing, you look like a shining star."

"Thank you."

"Now tell me, you're nominated to five awards, and in all categories, you have amazing competition. How do you think you're going to do tonight?"

"Well, if I'm honest with you, I'll be surprised if I even win something. But as my boyfriend says, I'm lucky to be able to be here, I'm lucky to be able to share my art and have amazing fans who support me all the way."

"Talking about boyfriends, you're here alone."

"Not every fairytale has a present prince." You joke, making her laugh. "He's working, but he made sure to send his good luck wishes to me before the ceremony."

"We love a supportive partner. Thank you for your time, hope you win and have a nice time."

You say goodbye, making your way to the crowd. Tonight, you were seated next to the one and only Taylor Swift. A little starstruck, if you may say.

The ceremony was nice, you danced, you jumped, and you also lost four of five categories. But you knew the awards didn't make you less or more of a good singer.

The last one was Song of the Year. A very hard category to catch. You were in the same category as Selena, Olivia, Taylor.

"Okay, let's calm down a little bit." Nicki says, about to announce the last category. "So, do we wanna know the winner?" The crowd explotes in screams.

Nicki yells the name of the winner, and you are zoned out. But when Ice Spice and Taylor hugged you, you went back to reality.

"You did it." Taylor shouts, getting up and clapping for you.

"Get your ass up, go get your award, girlie." Ice says, pulling you up from your seat.

You walk over to the stage, Nicki hugged you and told you how happy she was for you. You stand in front of the mic with your legs shaken from the adrenaline of the moment.

"Umm, I'm a little shocked, so let me breathe. Woo." You say, laughing and making the crowd laugh with you. "Okay, thank you so much to my family. You guys are one of my biggest supporters to my manager. I love you for believing in me. To you guys for streaming the song, for sharing it, for making it a trend on tik tok." You laugh again.

You took a breath, feeling so out of air. "And to my Pablo, because I know you're watching this instead of sleeping. My love, you're the inspiration of this song. You're the one who listened to this song first. I love you. This is our song, bebé."

You wave the crowd a goodbye, sending a kiss to the camera. On the backstage Karol G hugged you, she was next on the stage.

After the awards you took a flight back to Europe, your world tour Europe leg was beginning in three weeks and you wanted to leave early to adapt to the time zone and also to spend some time with Pablo.

During the flight you watched a game, it was good. After the game, Pablo had an interview. They asked him about you winning and you giving him special thanks.

"Hombre, Pablo. Your girlfriend recently won an award and she thank you. We know you're private about your relationship, but we want to tell you that we love how supportive you two are with each other."

He smirked, thinking about your thank you speech. "Si, bueno somos privados pero yo siempre la apoyo en todo y siempre lo haré. Ella es increíble y la quiero." (Yeah, well, we are private, but I can totally support her and always will. She's amazing, and I love her)

"Thank you, and congratulations about the win."

You snap a picture of the interview, send it to him, thanking him for his words, updating him about you almost landing in Barcelona.

When you actually land, you didn't expect Pablo to be waiting with a big flower bouquet, smiling at you.

You rush down the plane stair, throwing yourself at your him. Legs locked around his waist and lips on his.

"Mi super estrella." He kisses your cheek. (My superstar) he walks with you in his arms, dropping you into the car.

He walks to your manager, taking your bags and saying goodbye to your crew. You did the same, waving them from the car.

"Let's go home, estrellita." He kisses your hand.

The drive home he was telling you about the game. You thank him about the things he said.

"You deserve that and more, mi amor." he says, parking in front of his house. "I have something for you inside."

"Pablo, we say no surprises, you know I don't need anything. The flowers were enough, mi amor."

"I didn't say anything." He laughs, opening the door for you and helping you with your bags. "Go to the kitchen, I know you're hungry."

You indeed were very hungry. So you walked inside and straight to he kitchen. You were surprised to see your family, Pablo's family, and your friends all there.

They all yelled from excitement, and your friends run to hug you. You were still shocked by surprise with the breakfast surprise he pulled.

"Enough, Enough. Let me hug my baby." You mother says. She hugs you, saying how proud she is and how happy she is to spend these days with you, same with the rest of your family.

"Let's eat. She needs some food." Pablo says, kissing your cheek. "Please, serve yourselves."

"Thank you, Pablito." You returned the kiss on his cheeks, buring your face on the crock of his neck.

You wanted to eat everything, there was a lot of fruit, a banquet of other type of food and even a cake.

"The cake has the lyrics of our song." You jump excited. "That's so fucking cute."

"Language." You mom jokes.

Belen and Pablo got close to you once everyone was seated at their places.

"Estamos tan orgullosos de ti, preciosa." (We are so proud of you, precious)

Pablo hugs you, saying how much they love for you to be with Pablo and how amazing the song was.

"We got you a little something." Belen says, giving you a velvet box. "This is also Aurora's. She couldn't be here because of school but she sends you all the love."

"Thank you, I love you guys really much."

You saved the box in your pocket, wanting to see it in private.

You take a seat next to Pablo, who was talking with your mother about football. "But yes, it's been crazy, with the Champions coming up."

Everything was dreamy. You had the boy, the love, and the support. You had everything you ever wished for.

"I want to propose a toast." Pablo announced, getting up from his seat. "Por mi super estrella, ella nos ha compartido su arte y yo sé que todos aquí le hemos demostrado amor y apoyo" He grabs your hand, squishing it. "Congratulations, my love." (To my superstar, she shared all her art with us, and I know that every one of us had shared love and support with her, and I know that this award is important to her.)

You felt so loved, with the most important people in your life giving you all the support. You already won. An award makes no difference.

yourusername

Liked by pablogavi, taylorswift, aurorapaezg and 2,373,490 others

yourusername so thankful with this blessing. Thank you to all of you who voted for me ❤️ also enjoy this little dump of my last few days

pablogavi ❤️😛

aurorapaezg love you, hermanita 💖

selenagomez you're a shining star ✨️

icespice it's giving cunt 🫶🏻

[storiesfromafan]

A/N: Hi everyone, been a little while. I have been working on various stories in an attempt to break the writers block. Finally finished something, though I'm not 100% on how I feel about it. Hope you enjoy.

Mattheo x Fem!Reader

Spin The Bottle

How the Hell did you get here, starring down at an empty glass bottle. Which was pointed at you, and on the other end was none other than Mattheo ‘God’s gift to every Hogwarts girl’ Riddle. That pointed, smouldering gaze boring into you, making you want to slink back to oblivion.

Ah yes, good old days where you weren’t on anyone’s radar. Not even Mattheo fricken Riddles radar. The bliss of not being notice, blending into the students around. Free of social queues, or being social in general besides you’re few friends. It was such a nice existence, and this past month you began to miss it.

But like every teen girl, towards the end of fifth year, you began to feel a bit restless. The need to feel pretty, to be seen by the opposite sex as something to desire. So, during the break you had taken a trip with your parents to Paris to visit family. While there you sort out advice from your older female cousins. They were beautiful, graceful and everything you wanted to be. They took you under their wings. Guided you, and made you over.

So, when it came time to gather on Platform 9¾ and head back to Hogwarts for sixth year, you were nervous but excited. Joyous but also filled with dread. For the invisible nerdy girl finally took off her glasses and used contacts. No longer boxed in by framing bangs, now they are slowly growing out. Along with the growing out your bangs you had ditched tying your hair up every day, instead letting your (colour) locks flow over your shoulders in soft curls, all thanks to your cousins and their tips. Finally, your frumpy clothes were gone, replaced with more fitted and fashionable ones.

Your sixth year was your fresh start. New year, new you. That’s what you told yourself. Unfortunately, your lack of social queues made you oblivious to notice all the eyes that saw and followed you. You were the shiny new penny, with a gleam catching everyone’s eye. Including the Syltherin heart throb that’s gaze was currently all you could notice.

Now back to the question at hand; how the Hell did you get here. Chalk it up to teen insecurities, some ambition and lack of male attention. That’s how you got here. Along with your friends pestering you to finally go to a Slytherin House party. They had begged, no pleaded with you. And reluctantly you gave in. Though a small part was intrigued. The stories over the years of House parties always piqued your interest. And going from an ugly duckling to a beautiful Swan made you think you should go. But you did not expect to play spin the bottle, nor have Mattheo land on you!

The boy should be outlawed for being so good looking, as well as charming and over all dangerous to the female population! And just like all the other girls, you had a small crush on the guy. But what female student didn’t? And if they said they didn’t, they are lying. For Mattheo was every girl’s type. All girls like a bad boy, and Mattheo was the definition of bad. He had the looks, the attitude, smokes, drinks, skips class, pulls pranks...you get my drift. Mattheo was the bad boy every girl wanted to save, or sacrifice themselves in the process.

“It’s you” Ella, one of your friends whispered nudging you.

Her words brought you back to reality, which also made time seem to return to normal. Releasing the breath you had been holding you looked to the bottle and then back to the Slytherin before you. Now came the time for the game to claim your first kiss, and with Mattheo.

Shakily you moved to your knees and moved to lean over the bottle, Mattheo following your movements. You both met over the bottle. He looked into your eyes, which no doubt showed how frazzled you were. A soft, sweet smile formed on his lips, which seemed to settle your nerves.

“Eyes on me” Mattheo said softly. “Forget everyone else, it’s just you and me...”

With some ease in your eyes and body, Mattheo didn’t wait for that spell to break, for he was the one to close the distance. The feel of his soft lips against yours brought you back to reality. Mattheo Riddle was kissing you! (First name) (Last name) were locking lips with the most crushed on male in your year, no school!

Slowly Mattheo moved his lips against yours, his tongue coming out to run along your bottom lip. Your body stiffened. First your first kiss, and now your first French kiss he wants to take!? Who did he think he was?

Noticing your hesitance, Mattheo pulled back and looked at you with questioning eyes. He hadn’t forced his tongue into your mouth, nor did he take your first French kiss. Part of your heart skipped a beat at how the bad boy had some gentleman in him. The ohhhs around you both brought you back to the present. You had just kissed Mattheo. In front of a group of your peers.

Feeling the heat in your cheeks, you averted your eyes while moving back to your spot. But before you took your turn you decided to make a quick exit. You couldn’t play on. You shouldn’t have played in the first place! Some groaned and protested of your choice to leave. But Ella saying she’d spin instead helped ease those around you.

It didn’t entirely matter to you. You were a mixed bag of thoughts and emotions. Escaping the party, which was in fine form, you headed to a bathroom. You need a moment of as much silence you can get so you could sort yourself out. Once in the nearest bathroom, you turned on the tap at the sink. Cupping the cold water you were about to splash your face but stopped, you remembered the make up you wore. Instead you let your hands cool before placing the cool, wet hands on the back and around your neck.

‘I’m an idiot!’ you thought with a groan, as reality sunk in.

After kissing Mattheo you practically ran from the circle of your peers. Who does that? No one had ever done that before. You knew that because there has never been any gossip of someone kissing and running. Until now. You will be the talk of the school. How pathetic you are to kiss the schools heart throb and then run away like a baby.

Then you replayed the kiss in your mind. Mattheo had been gentle, and not forceful. From the way other girls talk about him, he was meant to be some scoundrel that takes what he wants, but does it in a way that makes you want more. He might be a bad boy, but he still was respectful. You touched your lips with your fingers. It was a perfect first kiss. You smiled at that. Only for it to fall knowing you’d had ruined your chance by taking off like a spooked animal.

‘Good job’ you scolded yourself, looking at your reflection. “Just perfect” you huffed.

“You or the kiss?” Came a curious voice behind you, making you turn around and clutch the sink behind you.

Upon turning around you were greeted by the boy on your mind, Mattheo Riddle. He gave you a soft smile placing his hands in his pockets.

“Personally, I think both are perfect” his voice was soft and slightly echoed against the walls.

It took a few minutes before his words sunk in. Mattheo Riddle just said not only was your kiss perfect, so are you. No doubt the look on your face marked with confusion and some horror. He thought you to be perfect. Was he crazy? Possibly. Or was this some big joke? More likely.

“I...I don’t understand...” You said in disbelief. “I’m far from perfect...”

Mattheo gave a soft, genuine smile. “I think you are”. He slowly moves across the bathroom. “I think your caring, smart, thoughtful, attentive, adorably cute...and that was all before your change”.

He stopped before you as he finished his words. Once again you were floored. Mattheo has noticed you all along! He saw you when you thought you were invisible, or rather thought you were invisible. You always thought your friends, some of your house mates and teachers always saw you. You had only became visible when in your first broom riding class in first year when you fell off your broom while a few meters off the ground. Also the numerous times you had been a klutz and fallen down staircases, quiet ungraceful too. Being uncoordinated and smart, every mistake or accident got your peers laughing at you.

“I-I don’t understand” you said softly. “You noticed me before?” You asked, needing an explanation.

Mattheo brought his hand up and moved a bit of hair out of your face. “It’s hard not to when you were the first person I encountered on the train in first year. You were all alone in a carriage. Dressed like a boy with crazy hair” he chuckled.

A light bulb went off in your mind. How had you forgotten that moment? He had asked if he could share the carriage, and you had meekly said yes. You both sat quietly, studying the other. Finally Mattheo took the initiative to talk, though he had been rude. After seeing you jump, he realised you were nervous, maybe a bit scared.

“First time away from home?” He had asked with a sigh.

You nodded your head watching him with big (E/C) eyes.

“It’s like that” he offered with a softer tone of voice. “Your parents were sad to watch you go. But they were just like you, leaving their family to go to Hogwarts”.

Once again you nodded your head, but slowly.

“Look at it like this, you’re on an adventure” he sat back further with a genuine smile. “Every moment away from home you are learning, exploring and making memories, all stories to tell your parents when you see them”.

Mattheo had shown a moment of kindness to you. But looking back over the years there were other times he had been kind to you. From opening a door and letting you enter first, to helping take potion ingredients that are too high on a shelf down for you, to stopping you from falling into the lake a few times when students had tried to push you in. Mattheo Riddle had always noticed you and had been so kind.

“You were always kind to me...” You said slightly dumbfounded.

Mattheo playfully rolled his eyes. “Don’t let everyone hear you say that. I have a bad boy rep to keep intact”.

You laughed at his words. “Sorry, I won’t go broadcasting it”. Mattheo then laughed.

Once you both stopped laughed, you both looked at each other. You took this time to study the boy before you. He had changed so much since first year. He was cute back then but now he was handsome. Much taller now, you had to tilt your head up to look at the male before you. His gorgeous brown eyes shining with humour and delight, a rare sight to be seen, as they usually show coldness and boredom.

“You’ve changed so much since the tomboy with crazy hair” Mattheo chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, “shut up” you chuckled playfully pushing him.

Before you could retract your hand, Mattheo reaches out and took your hand in his. Watching you closely he brought your hand to his lips, leaving a chaste kiss to your knuckles. You felt your breath hitch at his ministrations. He was being charming, like he would with many other girls, but with you it was real.

“I didn’t mind the tomboy you. Nor did I mind the frumpy, nerdy look you had going” Mattheo stated, thumb caressing the back of your hand that was still in his hold. “But I would be lying if I said I didn’t like your new look. I want you to know I have always like you, the you on the inside”.

If your brain was working you would have either melted, knees would have gone week at his confession and actions. He was making it hard not to fall head over heels for the boy before you. Than you asked yourself why he followed you? Why he has said what he has?

“Why? W-why tell me this now...” You thought out loud.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Mattheo asked. “I thought I was being apparent, and I thought you were smart” he joked. “(Y/N/N), I like you”.

You were shocked. The school bad boy just admitted to liking you. And possibly liked you for sometime. Any girl would swoon and kiss Mattheo for such a confession. But you weren’t like those girls. You pulled back your hand and moved away from Mattheo, thinking of running from the room. Running was something you liked to do recently.

“Where are you going?” He asked watching you with slight worry but a lot of hilarity. “Going to run away again? Might have to call you Cinderella”.

You stopped and shot Mattheo a dirty look. “I’m not like Cinderella”.

“Yes you are, you ran after we kissed” he stated matter-of-factly walking towards you.

“I-I” you spluttered trying to figure out what to say as you move backwards, Mattheo moving with you.

Feeling your back coming in contact with a wall, you jumped. Mattheo taking no time, placing a hand on either side of your head blocking you in.

“No running away this time Cinderella” he said softly, holding your gaze with his deep brown eyes.

Seeing as you weren’t going to speak, or run, Mattheo moved his left hand to caress your cheek. The contact made you jump, but the soft movement slowly soothing you.

“I serious (Y/N/N). I like you. Past, present and future” his words held sincerity that made your heart flutter. “And I hope I’m part of that future...”

Mattheo’s words left you speechless. You had never heard him speak so much to you, let alone hear how much depth he had in him. The Hogwarts bad boy, Slytherin heart throb was opening up to you. Mattheo Riddle likes you. The ugly duckling, turned beautiful Swan, as stated by your friends.

“Are you going to say anything?” Mattheo asked, fear leaking into his voice. He of all people was the last you’d think to be self conscious.

Snapping out of it, you stood up straighter. “I like you!” You blurted out not thinking. Once realising what you just did you groaned and hung your head.

Mattheo started to laugh, but it wasn’t malicious. It was hearty and warm. As his laugh died down, Mattheo lifted your head up. He looked you in the eyes, nothing but warmth and joy in his eyes.

“You are too cute love” he said softly. “And I’m glad you like me back”.

You smiled threw your embarrassment. Before you could say anything, or try to say anything, Mattheo took the opportunity to capture your lips. Shocked you tensed up, but feeling him lace his fingers in your hair relaxed you. He was soft, tender with you. But then his tongue ran along your bottom lip, causing you to jump a little again.

Pulling back Mattheo looked at you reassuringly. “It’s alright love, no rush”.

Mattheo took you into his arms and held you close. You rest your head against his chest, muttering sweet things in your ear.

Unfortunately that was the moment a few girls walked into the bathroom, and came across you both. You all looked at each other, before you felt your face heat up and you pushed Mattheo away. Not waiting for him or the girls to speak, you took off out of the bathroom. Without skipping a beat, Mattheo took off after you and the girls found themselves giggling at what they walked into, or what they could have walked in on. If Mattheo’s reputation was correct.

Feeling a tad humiliated you didn’t listen to Mattheo and his calls to slow down or stop. You had decided you were done for the night. And hoped tomorrow’s gossip mill isn’t about you.

A/N: as always, happy for feedback :)

[2knightt]

5 things dallas winston hated about you.

—even when you were on his last goddamn nerve, you were still everything to him. is he still everything to you? after all he’s put you through?

-> in no way is this me changing my style nor should this be taken seriously…i’m just bored. and sad. and bored. and i miss my boyfriend. posted on queue!! i’m probably either studying, working on asks + event, or sleeping. either one.

(I.your snarky remarks.)

“did nobody ever teach you how to properly play uno of all games?”

you asked, a chuckle in your voice as you held your one card in hand. dallas glared at you from across your table, holding 12 cards. this was the 5th game you two played. he was never one to accept defeat easily.

“this game is just fuckin’ stupid. n’ you’re a dirty lil’ cheater.” he grumbled, staring down at his all red cards, eyes shifting back to the green 3 that you had placed down. dallas wanted to say more not-so-nice words, but knowing you fully, you’d say something even worse back. he hated that about you. you always said that it was apart of your charm, he always disagreed.

“why would i ever need to cheat when you can’t seem to count?” you snapped back, brows furrowed. you referenced the fact that dallas tried to pick up only 4 when he had to pick up 6, thinking he was slick.

dallas just huffed, picking up another card from the pile before mumbling a small, ‘go.’ there was a tug at the corners of your mouth, causing you to grin a little too hard as you placed down the winning card. for the 5th time in a row. dallas threw his cards down, clicking his tongue in annoyance. he leaned back into the chair, his head turned away from you as his arms hung off the chair.

“stop bein’ a baby and help me clean this up.”

“no. it’s your house.”

“and you’re the one who’s bumming around in it. clean up with me before i let you walk those streets. again.”

(II.how important your looks were to you.)

you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, fingers running through your hair as you starred at yourself in the window of a convenience store.

“are you serious, y/n?” he asked, pockets in hand. he stopped walking when you did. he said it was so nobody hit on you. in reality, he liked it better when he had his eyes on you 24/7. he likes knowing you were safe. even for a second.

“yes, dallas. i am.” you replied with an eye roll. you grabbed your pink lip gloss, re-applying it for the 4th time today. sure, you were willing to admit it slowed you down—your focus on your looks. but were you gonna change? no! if someone doesn’t like it, who cares?

once you were done, you continued walking, leaving dallas to rush to catch up. he walked beside you after speed walking behind you for a few seconds. your lips shined under the hot tulsa sun, eyes glowing along with them. dally couldn’t help but wrap an arm around your waist.

he grew more and more aware of the men around. he held you closer, even when they paid no mind to neither you or him. he felt almost threatened for a moment.

“are you even listening?”

you chimed in, breaking his train of thought. dallas nodded, head empty. he didn’t hear a single thing you said. was he going to admit it? no. he didn’t want these other guys to know about how terrible of a boyfriend he was.

you just hummed, walking to your house in silence. any insults, compliments, comments, or cries would fall to deaf ears as of now.

(III.how you were blindly loyal.)

“i cannot believe you right now.”

“i jus’ said she was pretty. god forbid.”

he muttered as he entered your car, sitting in the passenger seat. dallas knew it’d be a terrible idea to try and make you jealous. boundaries, you’d shout. boundaries!

“i’ve told you how many times on how uncomfortable that makes me.”

“m’sorry, doll. i…i know. it was the alcohol.”

dallas lied right through his teeth. in all honesty—he’d been hoping it’d make you want to show him off. he was stupid for ever thinking you’d so something like that.

your silence scared him. you usually would’ve spat something back at him without a single thought. a sigh left your lips as you started the car, finally speaking up.

“i know.”

you muttered quietly. goddamn, maybe loyalty was gonna be the death of you. he didn’t mind much, though. at least you knew where home was. with him…right? right, y/n? he wanted to ask over and over again. dallas wanted the reassurance. he needed the support.

for what? he didn’t know. he just wanted to make sure you still felt the same way he does.

(IV.the way you fought.)

“she got you good, y/n.”

“oh, shut up, dal.”

you muttered, washing your bloodied and bruised hands under the faucet. you stood there, spacing out, letting the water run off your hands. dallas tapped you on your shoulder, snapping you out of it.

he handed you a clean shirt, a couple of bandaids in the other. you ushered him out of your bathroom, closing the door to put the clean shirt on. ‘she got you good.’ what does that even mean? was there seriously no, ‘are you okay?’ you wondered to yourself as you opened the door.

dallas sat you down on the toilet, brushing the fresh blood that slowly streamed down your cheeks with his thumb as he placed bandaids all over your face. he kissed every single one after doing so.

he wanted to make sure you still knew he likes you. that dallas winston liked you a whole lot.

“you’ll be alright, doll.” he comforted, patting your head. he thought back to your several other fights. you fought strategically and with honour. something he’d never do. but, recently, you’d been fighting just for the fun of it.

when you fought before—he felt a little angry. he didn’t like seeing you fight, but he didn’t like knowing you were good at it. knowing you were at the same level as he was at something he took pride in hurt him. dallas was frustrated at you and himself.

maybe his bad habits were rubbing off on you. a way to remember him, as dallas thought about it. he said he’d talk to you later about it. he never did.

(V.how quickly you were able to move on. faster than he ever could.)

you realized you needed better. dallas didn’t treat you like he used to. why? you didn’t know. you tried to be the best girlfriend he’d ever have, so why did he have to ruin it? was it your fault?

you kept on asking yourself questions like this when the reality of it all sunk in. that same day, you left dallas winston.

he felt his world crumble before him. this whole, self-sabotaging thing that pony warned him about was catching up to him. dallas felt hatred for you. well, at least he wanted to. he wanted to feel angry. hatred for you.

he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. even when he watched you move onto another guy. from afar, he’d see you giggle and flirt with him. like how you used to do with him.

even when you’re with someone else, you’re still everything ti dallas. would you ever forgive him if he said sorry? would sorry even fix the way he treated you?

[agoodroughandtumble]

None of Those Girls Are Me Part 2 - Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Status: Incomplete Summary: Reader is completely oblivious to Zoro’s feelings Warnings: 18+, Language, might be smut or implied smut in further chapters 

You had remained next to him for the rest of the night – completely unaware as to how grateful he was that you had given up on your random flirtations. Unsurprisingly, the more you drank the more animated you became – increasingly excited about every topic of conversation, laughing without a care in the world and so, so oblivious to the way Zoro was looking at you. He was grateful for that too. He could let himself indulge, just a little, safe in the knowledge that any lingering looks that could give him away were far from your radar.

The bar lights reflected in your eyes, emphasising their own brightness lit up by your smile. Zoro couldn’t help but think that the stars themselves were dancing in those eyes, and only for him. This delusion was only exacerbated by the way your thighs were touching his and the ease at which you invaded his personal space, as if you already knew he had made room for you behind his walls months ago.

He was too busy allowing himself to relax against your hand on his forearm that your question threw him completely off guard.

“So what sort of girls do you like?” You were looking at him expectantly, as if he was supposed to respond with anything other than “You, obviously”.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I told you I’m not really into the one night stand thing.”

You rolled your eyes exaggeratedly. “I know. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking in general. Oh!” You wiggled your fingers, trying to think, “Who was that girl? Urgh,” fingers increased speed as you wracked your brain. “Toshiko? The marine, with the swords. You liked her.”

Zoro’s eyes studied your carefully. “Tashigi. She’s a pain in the arse.”

You smiled wryly at him. “Uh huh.”

He wasn’t quite sure where you were going with this, but was definitely sure he wasn’t going to like it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Zoro watched as you chewed your lips, trying really, really hard not to think what those lips tasted like. Probably alcohol at this point, his probably did too. Which was more than find since he could blame said alcohol for his inability to stop staring.

“Well,” you shuffled almost impossibly closer, “Just in my experience if someone gets under your skin that much there’s a reason why.”

He let out an amused sigh and tried to force the upturned corner of his mouth back to neutrality. The irony of you saying that to him was surely the universe’s biggest “fuck you” yet.

You had noticed the change in his expression. “I knew it!”

Oh fuck. He prepared himself for the onslaught of questions, the feigned disbelief because obviously you had to be aware, and, lastly, he prepared himself for the “gentle” let down that while you liked him, it wasn’t in that way but you still wanted to be friends – for the sake of the crew, and all. He hadn’t prepared himself for the triumphant way you clapped your hands together, eyes lighting up almost too brightly.

“You do like her!”

The fuck.

He took a sip of his drink. A rather long sip. More of a downing if anything. Thankfully the bar was so busy that whenever one of you went to get a round you came back with multiples to save the constant queueing. So he kept drinking. It was almost as if his brain had short circuited. If he said he didn’t, you would just tease him about denying his feelings. But he couldn’t say he did because obviously that was a lie. You were clearly expecting some sort of reaction, and him just downing drinks wasn’t exactly giving off the impression that he Did Not Care. So, in a last act of desperation he did something completely out of character that he was surely going to regret, but he’d found himself digging such a hole the only way out was to blow the whole terrain up. He set his drink down and turned to face you, trying to show some semblance of indifference. “Say if I did like anyone, how do I…” he sighed. This was the worst idea but the only one that wasn’t screaming from the rooftops. “Do that.”

The smile on your face was almost maniacal. He would find it adorable if it didn’t instil him with fear. You were clearly not going to let this go. “Are you asking me for dating advice?” You laughed and his heart twinged. “The great Pirate Hunter Zoro is afraid of telling a girl he likes her?”

Obviously yes. But you didn’t have to spell it out. You could have afforded him that dignity at least. But his mouth spoke before his brain engaged and said the worst possible thing. “No, just tell me what girls like. What you would like.”

You smirked and picked up your drink offering a toast. “Oh, I’m going to get you so many girls.”

[darkdemeter]

Y/N “WOLFIE’S” PANEL

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

(Platonic) Avengers cast x GN/Female/Male Reader Feat. on the panel: Elizabeth Olsen, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie & Robert Downey Jr.

A/N — So this was delayed at first because I'd kinda gotten second thoughts, then did a bit of research (just watched some of the cast in interviews and stuff). And then I thought "fuck it, write it." So I did just that. Though I'm not counting on this being "top tier" and very well may be the only time I do this sorta thing. Because I have come to realise when writing this... I CANNOT write celebrities, so great kudos to those who can, and also they make it look so easy!

WORD COUNT — 1.7k

READER DISCRETION — Nothing that should be potentially triggering— maybe slight insecure reader? Nothing really, just that little "did I do good?" y'know? — just Y/N with the avengers cast— Y/N being a little blushing, embarrassed mess

SUMMARY— You meet your fellow cast members on the panel for Comic Con, the debut for the final instalment to Habits of Mother Nature's Will releasing that weekend at the premiere.

You can read the columns here — HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL II HABITS OF MOTHER NATURE'S WILL II: AFTERMATH

You never thought you would hear anything louder than the sound of applauding fans and cheers as your name was announced by the panel moderator.

You swaggered onto the stage, your outfit was casual but styled in a way that could pass for formal dress easily. Your hair styled to what you favoured most. 

You raised your arm up and waved to the crowd who roared with such vigour, you silently admitted to yourself it was a tad bit intimidating. But you were excited for this panel. To be beside your cast members who you had bonded with over the course of production, and to finally meet those who loved the project as well. 

The Avengers series had been a cinematic hit and when you signed the contract, had anyone told you that the three part short series would have been a major hit for audiences, you would have scoffed.

Your co-stars each turned and greeted you with grins as they waved you over. “There they are!” Chris announced into his microphone with a wide grin.

 You were assigned to sit between Lizzie and Chris. Anthony sat on Lizzie’s other side. 

“Where you been, Y/N? We missed you,” Anthony questioned you with a pout, hands forming a heart over his chest. You chuckled and held up your other hand that held a cup of coffee.

“I needed my fix, leave me alone,” you grumbled. Lizzie squeezed your shoulder lightly with a shake of her head, ushering the others to stop picking on you.

“And you didn’t bring me one,” Anthony tutted and Seb called after him, “the betrayal.”

The crowd laughed and cheered.

“So we were just about to get to the fans' questions, Y/N, and I don’t doubt a lot of them have questions about your character in particular,” the moderator said to you and you nodded. 

“Prepare yourself for marriage proposals, Y/N. There is always at least ten for each of us,” Robert said, his voice deep and calm over the mic system. 

Your face went bright red. “Well…” you wanted to swear out of habit, but you held your tongue, your head fell forward. “Dammit.”

More laughs came from the audience. The microphone was set up and any fans who had questions were directed to stand in the queue.

The first fan was a young woman, probably about college age. You leaned forward, your arms folded on the table and made your clothes pull against your frame and you looked intensely focused on the fan. Engaged with what they had to say.

The very act made quite a few people swoon and scream, only your eyes flickered to your cast mates with a raised brow.

“I think the proposals have increased quite a bit now,” Chris said with a smirk. It didn’t help relieve the flush in your face when a few whistles of agreement followed his statement. 

The girl giggled nervously into the mic in front of her and you refocused your attention on her. “Hi,” she said through her giggles and you nodded, hand lifting slightly to wave. 

“Hey, how are you?” you asked and she nodded, “good thank you. I just want to say personally I’m a huge fan of the character, C/N, and I just wanted to ask you how you felt when you got the role to portray them?”

You raised your brows under the weight of the question. You smiled and thanked her for the question. “Hmm, well, I’m not gonna lie it felt scary that I wouldn’t be able to portray the character, but the script writer and director - along with my cast members - they really helped me where I felt I lacked in providing the performance that C/N would. So yeah, thank you for that question, and I’m glad you enjoyed my take on the character, other than that it was a lot of fun.”

She beamed from ear to ear and nodded eagerly. She thanked you profusely and expressed her excitement to see Aftermath in cinemas. Elizabeth patted your hand with a smile. “You did good,” she uttered away from the microphone and you nodded in thanks.

Another fan walked up and greeted the cast. “So I want to know, who would win in a fight against each other: Bucky or C/N?”

“Uh, the correct answer, obviously, would be Ironman.” Robert’s interjection made the crowd fall into a frenzy of hysterics. You grinned, the act natural and your own that you made signature component for your character. 

“Remember who killed your parents,” Sebastian taunted and Robert smirked down the table his way. “Uh,” Sebastian began as he leaned back in thought for a moment, “I kinda want to say Bucky. I don’t think C/N could bring themselves to hurt him. So I think he’d use that to his advantage.”

When the fan inquired about your opinion, you shrugged with a tsk. “I think C/N would only win if someone hurt Wanda.” Your answer made the fans giddy, the uproar of cheers enough to bring the roof down like an earthquake. 

“I have to say that the fight sequence was so intense, I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. The cinema I was in was in such a state, I thought it was gonna get shut down,” the next fan began with a giggle. You and your fellow co-stars couldn’t help but chuckle and smile. It really did make you happy to know that you had done well to provide fans with such excitement. The Avenger films were great and adored by the fanbase, your only wish was that you wouldn’t let the dedicated members of the production and the fans down. 

“The fight choreography was brilliant and I wanted to ask what you could share about what went on behind the scenes? Like, how was all of that done?”

Oh, that was a loaded question. “Well…,” you chuckled, “let me first tell you that the entirety of my character fighting in their ‘wolf form’ was me. I did all the motion capture for that–” The room was filled with applaus. “Thank you. Yeah, my stunt double thought it would be funny to visit their family overseas and leave me to do all the motion capture. So I have them to thank for the harness that was riding my ass for the next couple of days,” you answered, though everyone could tell you only meant to tease, that you didn’t mean anything ill about it all. 

The experience of doing all the intense choreography was actually one of the most fun aspects you’d ever done in any of your productions thus far. 

Anthony laughed into his mic then. “I kid you not, we all have a video around twenty minutes long of Y/N doing the motion capture from the gag reel. And it’s hilarious,” he sighed at the end and earnt a laugh from the crowd. 

“It wasn’t easy, man,” you whined, “but– but when I had to do scenes that required a more realistic build, I was saved the embarrassment and actually we had my dog, D/N, do all the motion capture for that.”

A photo of your German Shepherd appeared on the screen above, your arms encircled around them, their head tilted and long tongue hung from their mouth. 

“They’re so cute!” a fan in the crowd shouted and you chuckled. “Damn adorable, I love them. I had to be on guard, I was scared Chris would take them home.”

Chris leaned over in his seat, hand slapped to his chest with a toothy grin as he cackled to himself. “I love that dog so much, what can I say?”

The fan thanked you for your time and walked back to their seat. The next fans were two girls, again around the age of college students walked up together. “Hi!” one of them greeted and the other looked incredibly shy, her friend held her close around the shoulders. 

“Hey there, how are you?” you asked again. You always asked how the fans were, a habit that was just natural. Human. Kind. 

“We’re good thanks. Uh, so this is my friend, Taylor,” she said and indicated to the other girl next to her. She waved and mumbled a meek hello into the mic. Your cheeks folded out into a smile, adoring the girl’s shyness. It was adorable. “And it’s her birthday and I want to ask if you could give her a little birthday present as your character, C/N, please? And with a cherry on top, add your wolf voice?”

Your tongue danced over your teeth as fans left, right and centre cheered and hollered. You could tell it was as much wanted by them as the fans asking for it themselves. “Just out of curiosity, who else is here for their birthday?” you asked and quite a large amount clapped in answer, a view yelled their response.

“Okay, so you can consider this a gift to you guys as well.” You sat forward and rolled your shoulders, getting into the mind of your character. 

“Happy Birthday, Taylor.” You stopped to let the fans burn out their screams before you continued. “Told you, marriage proposals all of them,” Robert commented just as you went to speak and you broke out of character for a moment, face palming your hand. 

“Go on, Wolfie, you gotta appease the fans,” Robert uttered with a wave of his hand to usher you on.

“I hope you have a wonderful birthday. Wanna play fetch some… sometime in the park?” Despite the momentary hiccup, unable to contain the embarrassed giggle in your throat as your face brightened, you finished. 

Even some of your castmates imitated getting flustered, even Lizzie herself fanned her face. Taylor hid her face in her palms and her friend thanked you. 

The other beauty of your performance was that the sound editors had little to do with mixing your vocals for the werewolf voices, you had a knack for making it naturally guttural and animalistic. 

Anthony snickered playfully. “So I think we can agree that Y/N “Wolfie” has taken over the panel. Can we get a shout or clap if you enjoyed Y/N’s performance of C/N?”

You don’t know how it was possible, but that was the loudest you’d heard the fans. 

[arabaka]

working out with gojo. you don't work out much but decided to start doing so with gojo's help. he pushes you really hard every time but always gives you the best motivator.

"if you can complete this lap in 15 seconds, I'll let you sit on my face."

queue him leaning back against a picnic table in the woods, gripping your thighs while your shorts and underwear are on his lap.

sculpture anon

(not sure how good this is but i don't exercise so the thought came to me)

ʚ｡ﾟ☁︎｡ɞ｡ sculpture anon. you and me. we are in this together now .

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. content warnings ⤸ nsfw. gojo satoru x gn!reader. no smut but suggestive.

mmm got me thinking ... you've been training with gojo for three months now and he's great, really! pushes you past your limits, but not to the point you'll get hurt. he's your biggest cheerleader, always hyping you up even if you're a second or two off your usual lap time.

but sometimes, you want to work out in peace. there's a new album from your favorite band you want to get a good pump to and ooh, what about that podcast on your number one guilty pleasure, trash TV? there's plenty of reasons for you to want some alone time while you're exercising !!!

so why does he get so damn pouty when he finds out you have a gym membership!? "yuji told me he saw you at the gym today, why didn't you tell me?" he asks with his lumbering body closely knit to yours as you walk to the kitchen.

"wow, you were not wrong. kid cannot keep a secret." you're wiping down the counter, laughing softly as you feel gojo's arms wrap around your waist. that makes him flex his grip a little bit and you can't lie, the muscles that perk up are so taut, so brawny you see stars for a bit. "we don't have to do everything together, satoru."

"but we could." he whines, but gives up the real answer, "i liked doing it with you."

"which part?" you ask, brow raised and thinking he will respond in kind, with humor, you turn your head with a sneaky peek at your tongue.

but he purses those pretty lips of his around the small sliver of muscle you gave him, sucking and invading your mouth in one fell swoop. "both but right now," his big hand swipes one of yours and forces it on his fat and heavy erection, cock swollen and throbbing for your touch, "it's this."

[elly99]

Just Another Night

The queue to check in was long at the hotel you were staying.

When you had been told about this city, this was not quite what they were saying.

But what was that Saying exactly, if not the misconceptions of the majority?

Who say it's the city of romance, love and, like, beauty?

They'd probably never been to Paris, really.

Because it was hard to picture all of that, taking an overpriced taxi.

Or the metro that you were certain doubled as a sewer.

And seeing the swarms of tourists along Champs-Élysées lining up to buy bags or whatever.

So what was it, really? What did everyone come here to find?

And what was it you were expecting an ideal night in Paris to be?

Well, if we're talking about Ideals, only one name comes to mind.

And of course it's her. It's Kim Minji.

So you imagine that Ideal. You imagine her just ahead of you in the queue.

And she happens to be here, right now, in the same city, at the same hotel, because she's here to see you.

Wait, no. This is your imagination, sure, but you'd still like to be realistic. Yes, that's what you'd like to do.

So you tell yourself she'd be here for work. And if you asked her what she thought, she'd probably think that was more realistic, too.

So, she's here for work and you're also here, just by complete chance.

And she finishes checking in and happens to shoot you a glance.

And she's here for work, but of course she's here alone, without her manager.

Because you like to be realistic, except when it comes to thinking about her.

Just like in high school when you thought you could ask her out.

But to her, you were just The One Sitting Two Rows Behind, no doubt.

That's beside the point, though, because she's here now and she's staring straight at you.

Checking to make sure that it's really Her Classmate From A Year Ago Or Two.

She walks over to you and you walk over to her, leaving your place in line as you do.

Because, with her right in front of you, there can be nowhere else to go to.

And she's smiling with those eyes, the ones that had you enchanted, enthralled, enraptured and all that.

And she's happy to see you, it seems, and she wants to have a chat.

The typical How are yous and I'm goods are exchanged.

A predetermined sequence of words that someone else arranged.

That should be awkwardly repeated whenever you meet Someone From Way Back When.

Or, in this case, when you happen to meet the girl who was your High School Crush then.

But we all know you never stopped liking her. You were in love and you always had been.

A Crush, evidently, does exactly what it says on the tin.

Because you feel again now that familiar pressure in your chest. That Feeling you feel whenever she's near.

And after not seeing her for so long (she's more stunning than you remember), you're falling all over again, you fear.

You're falling but this time she catches you. She has something important to say.

She says, "You can check in later. Wanna hang out in my room?" Stunned, you manage an Okay.

So you two are alone, heading to her room in an elevator.

You think to yourself, "What if someone finds out about this later?"

But she leaves you no time to think as her hand brushes yours.

And suddenly you want the building to have an infinite number of floors.

Because her hair is tucked behind her ear just so.

So you can see her neck and watch all her skin glow.

Stupidly but slowly, you lean in.

And she turns to you with this stupid grin.

An I've-got-you-now grin that's just so sly.

You have no other choice now but to comply.

And her eyes say something like, "I want you, too."

And the next thing you know, she's kissing you.

Her perfume. It's Chanel. Chance, Eau Vive.

And she smells so good, like you wouldn't believe.

Then you're in her room and she's in your embrace.

And you finally get it, why people love this place.

Because Paris is Paris. It's the City of Love.

And you found her here under the stars above.

But the morning comes and reality sinks in.

Your mind has been wandering somewhere it shouldn't have been.

She says, "See you around," but those weren't the three words you wanted to hear.

You know she'd never say them. You know you'd never hold her near.

So in response, you whisper, "I wish you were mine."

Because it was just another night in Paris and you were still stuck in the line.

[hey-august]

A Line from Me to You - Chapter 3

Description: Buggy finds a peculiar book on his ship. Enticed by the words contained on each page, the pirate opens up. Anonymity leads to vulnerability. What else will come from this? (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, check out the story tag)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: This chapter is SFW (again). The story will eventually be NSFW. Some profanity. Buggy x afab!reader.

A/N: The plot building got out of hand with this entire story - sorry to those waiting for this to get hotter! I started writing the first spicy section, which should happen in Chapter 5. Thanks for your patience and I hope you're still enjoying this story!

Tag list: @lostfirefly @rorywritesjunk @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Buggy wasn’t sure if you would actually be interested in reading another book with him. He had a story in mind - a coming-of-age, but to Buggy, it was a mystery. The book was about two boys who became friends one humid summer.

The memory of where it came from disappeared long ago and all that remained were the reasons why Buggy kept the book through the different stages of his life. He wanted to know how the story ended. How that story ended. But ignorance was easier than reading, and fear was stronger than curiosity.

Your agreement to read with him was freeing. He felt lighter, as though his body would disconnect at each junction and his limbs would float apart without any effort. But there was a tether that kept him together - a string that had him connected to you, through the pages of a book. The outward pressure was what he needed to finally see that story to the end, whatever it may be.

The second book, titled “Rocks on the River,” was good. Really good. Buggy was pleased to read a note in the second chapter full of excitement and praise for how well-written the story was. He even circled your comment and added a checkmark, as if it was any other passage in the book that he approved of.

The author captured the carefree levity and gracelessness of childhood. The fictional duo - Harrison and Writt - would sneak out at night to swim in the watering hole, share stolen beer, and talk about a world bigger than they knew. During the day, they navigated the challenges of growing up in a small town full of strict expectations, unnecessary interpersonal conflicts, and demands to leave adolescence behind. 

As the story unfolded, so did Buggy’s past. Memories unfurled slowly, aching as they stretched out the creases from being stored for so long. They woke up quietly, almost as though they were always awake and waiting to speak. The need to be shared pushed the once organized queue, jostling the order until the long forsaken memories were clamoring for control of the pen. A chance to escape arrived with one chapter detailing a frustrating fight between the boys. An argument began with two different versions of the same truth and ended with a scuffle where Writt broke Harrison’s nose.

“I had a friend like this growing up... He was a total shithead.”

That was all Buggy planned to share. It was more than enough.

One night, with river rocks at their backs and the stars overhead, Harrison asked Writt if they would be friends in another lifetime. The sandy haired boy tossed a rock towards the sky and caught the smooth stone with an outstretched hand. “No…I think we’d be brothers.”

Buggy had finished the chapter before going back to that section. The words stuck to him uncomfortably. They were irritating but nostalgic, like sand clinging to damp skin. As much as he tried to brush away the past, he couldn’t let it go. And maybe a small part of him didn’t want to let it go. The pirate told himself that it wasn’t hope or remorse, but a reminder about the pain of betrayal. The same reasoning applied when he saw the question you penned after reading that chapter.

“Were you and your friend close like these two?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“He wasn’t who I thought he was.”

You could see the lingering hurt in how the words were nearly carved into the paper. Even in the dim light, shadows settled into the deep grooves. Running a finger over the indents, a sense of guilt washed over you. This was the first time you asked questions unrelated to the story, but maybe you had crossed a line. The secrecy of sharing books made you feel closer to a stranger who might not reciprocate the fondness. 

The answer also unlocked an adjacent fear - that you might also be a disappointment. Just as you hadn’t expected to move onto a second book, you also weren’t sure if you would ever have an opportunity to put a name and a face to the other reader. Storing the second thought away for another version of you that could withstand preemptive rejection, you thought about how to respond to the reader’s pain. With a few swipes of your pen, you left a short acknowledgement and appreciation that they shared this piece of themselves with you.

Unlike the first book, there weren’t as many moments that required in-depth commentary or questions to untangle intent because this was a cohesive and well-thought story. The space that remained was used to share anecdotes and moments where the highs and lows of friendship were captured too well. With each unprompted recollection, you realized there wasn’t a boundary that you cut apart with an invasive question. 

Comforted that the connection was still intact, you also exchanged moments from growing up that stung decades later. One brutish story pushed you around and threatened a headache if you held onto it any long. Aware that the memory would force you to stay awake and stare at the ceiling of your small cabin while you scrutinized every mistake your past-self committed, you decided it would be less damaging to let it go free. Before you could change your mind, you began penning your own personal history.

Childhood friends had lied to you about meeting up in a nearby park. You waited by the east entrance where a crowd began to gather. Your friends weren’t present and the collection of people turned out to be participants in a footrace. For over an hour you waited and when faced with having to admit you were stood-up, you chose a different path. You pretended to be a racer. Even though you were dressed for an afternoon out, you  huffed and puffed your way through the course and your strappy sandals carried you to the finish line.

“OBVIOUSLY they didn’t think you were there to race if you were wearing a goddamn sundress.” The loopy handwriting was loose and each curve struggled to stay on course due to the writer laughing with their whole body while transcribing the note.

“Yeah well where the hell were you that day? Logic and anxiety don’t always go hand in hand.” You added a frowny face, knowing it would only add to the humor of an otherwise humiliating moment.

Unfortunately, the joy captured in the pages of the book didn’t last. As the story came to an end, so did Harrison and Writt’s friendship. 

Buggy was the first to read the final chapter. He finished long after the sun rose. Normally, a long night of reading would leave him with dry eyes, but not this time. The bright beams stung his eyes, which were already sore from crying and ached from reading without glasses. When the tears began falling, they came fast and spilled onto the lenses. Frustrated with having to frequently wipe his eyes and the glasses separately, Buggy tossed them aside and hunched over the tormenting book. 

Years later, Writt thought back to a crisp morning, one only found at the edge of summer. One morning he spent waiting at the river for a friend who would never appear. For a friend who disappeared without a goodbye and without a trace. When school started that autumn, none of the teachers knew where Harrison was, just that his enrollment was pulled unexpectedly. After searching through the changing seasons, Writt eventually gave up on learning where Harrison and his family moved to. Sometimes, he felt the memories of the summer months slipping away. Whenever Writt felt lonely, he’d find himself laying in the shallow river water and tossing a stone to the sky. Coming back to the present, Writt was surprised to see a familiar face in another town. A face that was older, having grown a few wrinkles, and carrying the weight of life. Harrison nearly looked past Writt before recognition dawned on his face. A familiar smile grew, sitting crookedly under a nose that was broken long ago. Writt returned the smile. The boys - now men - were strangers. Time had passed, wearing them away, like rocks in a river. 

---

You were just finishing breakfast when word came around that today was a “nothing” day. Every few months at sea, the captain would announce a day where nothing except necessary tasks were completed. If anything could be postponed or skipped, it was. The extra time became free for the crew to use as they desired. Most would use it to catch up on sleep, while others would take advantage of extra practice sessions, and others would corral their friends into playing games and drinking the day away.

You had one required duty for the day and would have almost an entire day free after restocking the infirmary. Before getting started, you stopped by the bench to see if you were lucky enough to have something to fill your day.

Struggling to carry the boxes and containers you stacked far too high, you kicked open the infirmary door and startled the sole occupant. The captain cussed loudly as he slammed a draw shut on his hand. The thick fabric of his glove and the slow moving, sticky drawer prevented any actual digit pinching, but adding to the superficial injury were a few boxes that slipped off your teetering pile and fell onto his feet. They weren’t heavy, but still unwelcome.

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be in here!” you cried out while shuffling through the obstacles on the floor until you reached the table and could release the rest of the inventory.

“It’s a pirate ship, of course people are going to be in the infirmary,” Buggy grumbled. A floating hand dropped off the boxes of bandages and gauze that fell to the floor before returning to its search of the drawers. “You got anything for headaches in that mess?”

“Mmm, I should. Give me a second, Captain.”

Buggy watched as you rummaged through the mess. After a moment, you sighed and started searching by organizing the different supplies. Tossing similar items into piles, you uncovered the book you used as a base for carrying the ungainly amount of items. A book that Buggy had slipped under a bench less than an hour ago. Barely using his throbbing brain, he turned towards the door. Before he could make a hasty exit, a hold on his coat sleeve stopped him.

“Wait, I found ‘em. You should take some extras, in case the first dose doesn’t take care of it all.” You pressed two packets into his hand. Looking up, you were greeted by a wash of red. Aside from his usual nose, the captain’s eyes were deeply bloodshot. The crimson color eclipsed the usual cool tones of his eyes and were a stark contrast against skin that was paler than usual. His mouth was tight and his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous swallow. 

“Is it just a headache, Captain? You don’t look good…” You reached up to see if he had a fever burning under the facepaint, but a hand on your wrist stopped your movement.

“I’m fine. It’s just a headache,” Buggy said with a clipped voice that indicated the end of that topic. “Looks like you have something to spend your ‘nothing’ day on.” He tilted his head towards the table with the book. “No need to worry about me, just take care of whatever you’re doing.” He turned and left, pursued by the guilt of knowledge. Guilt from taking away your anonymity and leaving you to deal with the sad ending alone.

But you weren’t alone. The still damp spots from tears that were poured into the book were company enough.

[kassiekole22]

First Christmas

Pairing: Syzoth X Fem!Reader

Description: You and Syzoth celebrate your first Christmas together...

Warnings: Fluff! 💚

Word Count: 1k

A/N: I have been saving this for a little while now. In fact, it has been sitting in my queue for quite some time. 😅 I do plan on doing more lovely holiday fics after this as well, and not just for Syzoth. I hope you all enjoy this and Merry Christmas, everybody! ❤️💚❤️💚

Main MasterList: 🖤

Kassie's Angels: @mornandil , @bihansthot , @katiralovely , @queenkhepri , @blackbunnymayw , @simpforhotmaskedmen , @theleftkittycollection , @kiashines .

(If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

"Wake up, my little pickle." I chuckled to myself as I shook my boyfriend's shoulder, eager to see him wake and stare up at me with those breathtaking green eyes once again.

But I only got an agitated groan in response. Syzoth was always quite difficult to pull out of bed. Once he was warm, he would stay in the same spot for hours upon hours, just soaking up as much heat as he could. The blanket nest he made for himself the night prior was no different.

But after a few more nudges, his eyes reluctantly opened to peer up at me with disappointment.

"A few more minutes..." He whined like a young child who wasn't getting his way.

I merely laughed at his behavior and shook my head. "Nope! It's Christmas morning! Time for presents!"

"You Earthrealmers never fail to confuse me with your traditions. This early just for for gifts?" He grumbled while getting out of bed.

His body visibly shivered when he crawled out of the covers. Despite the heat being on, two space heaters, and the thickest sweater I could find for him, Syzoth still could barely cope with Earthrealm's winters. The very thought of him leaving his nest of heated blankets made his skin chill.

Giggling to myself, I took his hand and pulled him to the living room, where our 7ft tree stood tall in the corner of the room with presents nestled safely beneath it.

We decorated it last night. He was scheduled to arrive in Earthrealm on Christmas Eve, so I decided to wait so we could do it together. I didn't mind. But I'll never forget all the confused questions that the Zaterran laid on me as we got it ready for Christmas.

"Why do you humans bring a tree into your home and hang all this shiny stuff off of its branches?"

"Do you at least make sure there are no creatures living inside first?"

"Why does a star go on top?"

Luckily, I did not need a ladder to reach the top of the tree this year, since Syzoth's 8ft Zaterran form towered over it. Though he acted confused as he carefully placed the star on the top branch, I could see a small hint of pride as he did it. It was like he was proud that he was completing the look.

When we both stepped back to admire our creation, I couldn't help but notice the child-like wonder in his eyes as the twinkling lights reflected in his irises. Much like they did now, as he slowly creeped into the living room to investigate all of the new differences that had changed overnight.

"So that man really was here?" He asked as he kneeled down by the tree to pick up a small gift in his big hands. He shook it lightly before asking with uncertainty, "What's his name? Ummmm... Sandie Claws?"

I burst out laughing at his assumption and then corrected him nicely, to not make him feel dumb, "Santa Clause. And... Yes... He did..."

After seeing the fascination grow in his eyes as I told him about the all-famous St. Nick, I couldn't bring myself to tell him that he wasn't even real. And since he had never experienced this holiday as a child, I just decided to go with it to humor the inner child that hid within the man.

A large smile spread across his lips as he looked up at me, almost as if he was waiting for the go-ahead to tear into the gifts before him. Chuckling, I nodded and got my camera ready.

After that, he placed the items on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace. It was the sweetest gift of all. The biggest grin was displayed proudly on my face as I snuggled into his touch.

The sounds of claws shredding paper and gasps of excitement filled the room as he revealed each surprise one-by-one. He held up the worms from the local reptile shop in my town, a scrub brush for exfoliating dead skin away while he was shedding, and a spray bottle to keep his skin moist when he didn't have the time to soak as I snapped the final picture for the Christmas of 2023 album.

"I hope you enjoyed it, pickle." I breathed as my heart beamed with happiness that I was lucky enough to be present for this milestone in his life—his first Christmas.

"We are not done, my sunshine." He then whispered in my ear before pulling away from me and reaching into his pocket.

My eyes widened in astonishment as I watched him pull a beautiful homemade necklace out. A gorgeous green gem pendant—that looked to be one from only Outworld—hung delicately on a thin silver chain. He placed it around my neck and planted a tender kiss on my cheek before whispering, "Thank you for making my first Christmas a special one."

My eyes teared up with joy as I felt the weight of the necklace on my neck and his cold skin brushing against mine. Though my emotions weren't from the gift, they were from the thought behind it.

He always knew just how to show how much he cared for me, and that was one of the many reasons why I was so grateful to know him, let alone be his partner. I knew for sure that Syzoth loved me, and I loved him just as much.

"Thank you." I murmured after turning around and hugging him one more time.

I held him so close and tight like if I were to let go and open my eyes, he would be gone, and I would realize that it was all fiction. But it was real. He was my destiny—my star.

He encased me in his arms again, completing the embrace. Later on, we would leave my house to go to Johnny's for Christmas dinner and his famous holiday party. But until then, it was just us in this beautiful moment that I would cherish forever.

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

[skylermadness]

Whatever. (Lucas Lee TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: December 6, 2023)

I continue to be too lazy to fill my queue.

Original Description:

Make this Lucas Lee TF #3, now in the written medium! My boyfriend got me to watch through both the Scott Pilgrim movie and anime and it was pretty obvious that I was going to fall in love with Lucas. A bit of a jerkish man with a large physique and attractive face, pretty much the perfect bait for someone like me. This also meant that inevitably I was going to have to write a TF story on this guy! I wanted to go for something a bit simplistic here in terms of tone and plot, mainly because I wanted to jump straight into the transformation segment, but I think in general I'm rather proud of how this story turned out! I really wanted to give this man justice, especially since in the end he'll probably be memorialized in the hall of underrated TF figures. Also going to give some credit to my friend moltingscales on FurAffinity for a few description additions that I would not have been able to come with on my own! Rated Mature for vague bulge growth description.

   Truth be told, self-confidence was not something that Mike had an ample amount of. Especially in regards to how he viewed his physicality. That was always something he thought when he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. And for this evening that sense of low self-esteem was at an all-time high. The reason? Date night.

   He had always attempted to tell himself that these dates were just meant to be casual. There was nothing to really worry about since it wasn't like he and his boyfriend were going to some bougie five star restaurant or something. Unfortunately however, Mike’s mind never truly functioned that way and he had a tendency to spiral down a mental staircase of overcomplications. That coupled with the past two weeks he's had in regards to his job had sort of left his mind in a state of disarray. It wasn't fragile persé, but neither was it solid.

   That mental state is why he was in the bathroom mirror at 7PM in the evening staring at a sheet of temporary tattoos in his hand. Said sheet was just some three dollar cheapo set that he bought online a few days ago. Mainly because he was too much of a coward to get a real tattoo- that's beside the point!

   Although the cheapness of the purchase was definitely pungent as he stared down at the sheet. He didn't go for the more expensive and extravagant purchase, mainly because he didn't really want to draw too much attention to himself. In general he had just wanted something simple that also looked aesthetically appealing. However the more he stared down at the sheet he began to realize that he really went too far on the simple notion. Although that was primarily because the only selections on this fake tattoo sheet were simplistically stylized letters and numbers.

   Mike sighed. “What do they expect me to do? Spell out my name or something?” It hasn't even been five minutes and he was already regretting this purchase. It was fine though, it was fine, he might be able to settle on something at least.

   He had already crossed out putting in his own name, and he felt it would be weird to put in the name of his boyfriend. Would it be weirder to put in the names of everyone in his polycule? If anything that'd just look like a hit-list. Also he was pretty sure he didn't have enough letters for all of that anyway. For a second he also considered putting the name of a game or something he liked, but that option fell flat since the letters provided to him would look weird when tattoos of game logos legitimately exist.

   These mental gymnastics lasted for a good twenty or so seconds before Mike’s gaze wandered down to the number section of the sheet. There weren't a lot of numbers he'd say represented literally anything about him. Except…

   “...two?”

   Just two. He was the second person in his polycule with his boyfriend after all, and in general he had been the second to do a lot of things like finish college and move out. Although considering he was just doing this to boost his self confidence for a date with his boyfriend the former thought process was a much healthier one.

   Seeming to have come to a decision, the next couple minutes were a fairly standard order of events. Making sure his skin was dry, removing the film and isolating the singular number from the sheet. Mike did spend a good minute trying to choose a spot to place this temporary tattoo, but eventually settled on the side of neck solely so he could hide the thing if need be. He removed the choker that he typically wore, put it onto the sink’s counter, and placed the numerical icon onto the skin of the left side of his neck, then promptly wet up a sponge with some warm water before holding it onto where he was placing the tattoo.

   The moment the water met the backing paper that region of Mike’s neck had suddenly been given a slight burning sensation. It was only miniscule, but it was noticeable. “Eesh, I hope I'm not allergic to whatever is in these things…”

   He tried to hold out for the recommended thirty seconds, but that feeling of burning forced him to remove the sponge from his neck after twenty. He swiftly removed the backing paper from his neck, but found that there wasn't any kind of redness of the skin that would be the cause of any kind of burning. If anything the strange sensation had subsided, and now Mike had been granted a simplistic tattoo of the number two with a line going through it.

   He stared at his neck in the mirror for a few seconds and scrutinized the newly inked object on his neck. “...somewhat larger than I was expecting. Whatever I guess, it doesn't… look shoddy.”

   It did already look a little faded though. Mike had hoped once it had some time to dry it would actually look dark enough to imitate the appearance of a tattoo even though he didn't fully care about it looking convincing. With a sigh he moved his hand to the edge of the sink to pick up his choker and slip it back around his neck again. Although this time he loosened it a bit so it wouldn't rub up against the temporary tattoo too much. He apparently wasn't patient enough to let it dry before putting the accessory back on-

   With that whole routine dealt with, Mike made his way out of the bathroom. He was probably going to spend the next half hour sitting on the couch waiting for his boyfriend to arrive…

   However as he walked down the hallway he already started to massage the area the tattoo’s ink had been placed on. The burning was returning already and it felt a bit more intense now. “What are in those things?”

   He continued to gently massage the area of his neck with his hand, letting his palm gently squeeze the skin in an attempt to alleviate the sensation. Although it would seem as he continued in this act, a strange set of changes began to settle into his hand…

   There was a certain level of thickness that had begun to generate in both of Mike’s hands. His usually thin fingers steadily got larger, thicker, chunkier. As their size was getting altered their length was extending as well in order to fit their new proportions. The ends of his fingers also seemed to blunt a bit with initial the roundness of his fingertips dulling to a more straight look. At the exact same time the body of his hands was getting changed as well, both of them growing with each squeeze his left one did to his neck. They stretched out larger and wider, palms thickening as the entirety of his hands gained a significant level of meatiness to them that was already causing them to exude a level of strength that they had not possessed just moments prior. 

   From there it was a quick transition for the changes to jump past his wrists and onto his forearms. A small amount of heat began to arise in the lower area of his arms. With that heat came another swath of growths, the thinner physique of them steadily being lost under a swelling, bulking size. This was mostly because of the sudden increase in muscle mass he was getting. At an anatomical level, each usage of his extensor muscles by his hands was causing a practically impossible rate of growth. Like years of working out was being piled in the area in just seconds and giving his forearms a sizable muscularity. So much so that ridges were already forming, dividing muscle groups and accentuating the new size even further. A budding pressure had also started forming in his bones. Newly grown muscles practically massaging them, extending and hardening them further to better handle this larger size. It also wouldn't take very long for the exact same thing to begin to occur in his upper arms as well.

   It started with a squeezing sensation in his elbows, something that quickly intensified to yet another immense bout of pressure in the bones of the upper half of his arms. This was also accompanied by the same light amount of heat, which was then followed by even more muscle growth. The short sleeves of his button-up were quick to fill as the mass in his arms increased more and more. Biceps got bulkier and triceps matured tremendously, and it wasn't long until the diameter of his arms was practically doubled thanks to all of these changes. His shoulders ached as his deltoid muscles developed more, a certain roundness forming out from his once angular bodily shape. This roundness had also rapidly made itself visible from beneath the fabric of his shirt, his newly developed muscles firmly pressing up against the sleeves as they already began to look rather undersized.

   By the time this portion of the transformation had ended, Mike found himself at the threshold of the hallway and his living room. A few beads of sweat already began to form on his forehead as the heat was spreading from his arms to the rest of his body. “Uurgh, am I… having an allergic reaction to that thing…?”

   For a moment he stands in the doorway and unhands his neck, deciding to hold onto the threshold with a hand in order to stabilize himself a bit. He could still feel the tattoo burn against his neck, although he couldn't see it was significantly darker than it was before. What he did see, however, was his hand.

   “W-WHAT THE HELL-”

   For just a moment his mind was taken off the feeling of intense heat entering his body, Mike’s focus instead being directed to his larger hands and beefier arms. Flipping a hand around in a panic his first statement was, “O-oh God, this can't be an allergic reaction-”

   His eyes could only just trail down from his hands to his arms, the man only being able to behold the sight that was his recently obtained muscle mass. It felt so warm, and something about it was exuding pure strength, but despite that it all still felt uncanny. Bizarre felt like an understatement of a term, it was impossible!

   “What is going on?? Why is this- a-ahh-”

   His panicked statements were interrupted by what could only be described as the sudden feeling of a furnace igniting at the very core of his body. In just seconds his physical changes were transitioning from his arms to his torso, and Mike could instantly feel his chest push outwards and into his shirt with each breath the young man took.

   The best way to usually describe Mike’s chest was undeveloped. Flat with only minimal amounts of flab and fairly unimpressive from a physical standpoint. However, as his core was heated a fire entered his torso that caused a cascade of changes that practically tempered and sculpted his form. His chest pushed forward, his pectorals steadily swelling in size with each second that passed. It was small at first however, seemingly starting off as a slight growth that looked more like that of a novice who just started working out. But that appearance was temporary, one that lasted only a few seconds before they got larger and larger. With each ragged breath the man took his pectoral muscles only grew more, that novice feeling being lost into the size of someone more adept in gym-going. And that didn't last long as they grew even more into two thick and meaty slabs belonging to someone dedicated to refining their physicality.

   All the while his chest was pushing up against the front of his shirt. The size of his swelling pecs constantly indenting into the button-up more and more, their appearance getting more prominent beneath the fabric. But the only thing that held the halves of the shirt were buttons, and as the size of his chest increased it pushed his shirt’s placket to limits it just couldn't hold. Already buttons began to scatter, unleashing his chest more and unveiling the deep chasm that became his cleavage. A few more buttons were lost as his frame was prompted to extend as well. His collarbone and ribs pushed sideways, broadening and widening his form even more. Something that was causing even his back muscles to ache, a mighty need starting to form in them as well.

   “Urgh-” Mike grunted at the sensations, everything just feeling overwhelming. “M-my shirt- my chest it's so… it's so…”

   His cheeks flushed as all of a sudden Mike lost control of an arm. The free one that wasn't supporting him on the door got lifted up and, in just one quick moment, squeezed his right pectoral. He was given the sensation of just how soft yet firm they felt underneath his grip. Something that gave him just a single thought.

   Heh, you've got the best chest in the business~

   That very thought felt so foreign to Mike, already setting off mental alarm bells in the young man’s man. Yet despite that he couldn't swat it away, he couldn't stop his hand from giving his chest another squeeze and filling his brain with an almost erotic level of self-confidence (and perhaps self-absorption) that he didn't have prior. It was like his brain chemistry was beginning to get altered as well.

   The changes didn't stop at his chest though. His abdomen already began to ripple, skin and muscle bubbling and churning as yet more muscles were ready to sculpt themselves into existence. The fat around his stomach melted off, and rising from that were a set of abdominal muscles. They slotted forwards like drawers, just rows of abs sequentially unveiling themselves and hardening into yet more firm muscles to displace his once twinkish demeanor. Two, then four, then a six-pack set of abs, all finely built in a way that showed years of dedication. Although those were years that Mike had not toiled through. But as his sides burned, his abdominal muscles firmed up, and the front of his shirt continued to tear open even more, the sight of his more muscled form was causing more conflicting thoughts to form in his brain.

   His back continued to ache as the muscles in that region grew out. Yet again his shirt was filling up, and beneath that was a substantial formulation of mass that was forming in his trapezius muscles. Evidently that wasn't the only portion of his back that changed however as his spine was another major group of bones that got hit with the transformative pressure. A sensation that caused the discs in his spine to decompress and grow, elongating itself and granting Mike inches of height that would better work for his new proportions. This has caused the hem of his shirt to rise a bit and untuck itself from his jeans in the process.

   This sudden growth of height further disoriented the man, Mike having already been immensely discombobulated thanks to the intensifying fog that was forming in his brain. At this point he was already getting lost in the inspection of his body, his arm moving from squeezing his chest to tracing a finger down his cleavage. It further moved down to his abs, all fingers splaying outwards to touch and feel the strong six-pack that he had gained just moments ago.

   With all those years spent working out, it would be a waste not to feel those muscles you spent so long crafting~

   “Wuh… huh…?” Mike vocalized, eyes blinking in a daze. “I've never… worked… out…”

   For a second his brain registered his voice sounding different, sounding deeper, but his focus could only be on the statement said. How much of a contradiction it seemed to be. A fraction of him knew it was true, knew these muscles weren't here minutes ago or that he's never had the time or desire to gain such a form. Yet another growing part of him was telling him the opposite, that this is his body, his muscles, his everything. 

   Why deny such a form you've worked so hard on?

   “Mmmph…” Mike hummed, voice continuing to deepen and making it sound like a low rumble. His eye twitched a bit as he felt a bead of sweat roll near it and down his face. His hand trailed back upwards, not sure if it's himself controlling it or the unknown force, but it slowly moved up his abs and back to his pecs. And while he entered what could only be classified as a hypnotized state, the transformation continued the move its way downwards. His jeans tightened around his form as the diameter of his waist got larger, the first sign that it wasn't very long until the lower half of his body was consumed by the changes.

   The second sign was a stirring in his groin.

   Mike’s cheeks flushed as he felt the front of his underwear begin to fill out. A sizable bulge was steadily forming, his endowment increasing in size much like the rest of his body had. Such an occurrence was also forcing the zipper of his jeans to start to split open against this new bulge. At the exact same time, the seat of his pants was filling out as well. Gluteus muscles getting larger, some fat accumulating in the area more, all of which was making his butt a bit more prominent and round beneath his jeans. It strained the back of his pants a bit more which put more pressure on his jeans. A good few seconds passed before finally the button holding them couldn't last any longer and ripped itself out the eyelet, the fly of his jeans now fully open.

   That didn't end the torrent of pressure being put on his pants however. The transformation continued to cascade its way downwards, the man’s thighs being the next to thicken as heat surged in his leg muscles and forced his quads and hamstrings to grow in bulk and musculature. His calves practically burned as well as they practically ballooned out the back of the crus of his once skinny legs. Although at this point Mike’s lanky frame is now long gone, the last portion of it subsumed by muscle. The leg muscles of a man who knew how to train them, and who knew how to use them. This had also prompted another few inches to be added to Mike’s height as yet again the bones were shifted, strengthened, and extended beneath the muscle. The bottoms of the legs of his jeans steadily rode up his legs as a result, meanwhile the seams holding the sides together began ripping apart against his large muscularity.

   The last portion of his lower body that was left to change were his feet, that region already beginning to shift as the space in his shoes quickly got filled out. In mere seconds his feet grew in size to fit the proportions of the rest of his body, lengthening and widening at a rapid pace. It wouldn't be long until the toe caps of his shoes bulged as all his toes pushed forward into them and continued to do so more. The back of his feet dug into the heels of his footwear, meanwhile the sides rubbed up against the shoe’s sides. This had predictably caused a major discomfort in the area, Mike disorientatedly stepping forward a bit in some weird attempt to shake off the pressure. But it didn't end and his footwear continued to bulge, the leathery cloth of it creaking and splitting as his feet continued to grow inside them. The front was already beginning to split off from the sole at this point thanks to his feet’s longer length. However, in one fell swoop, the front of his shoes burst open with a loud rip piercing the air. His toes were now out in the open, their chunkier and almost blockier appearance now visible. But at this point the changes in his feet had come to an end, the rest of his shoes just barely holding on against the width of his feet.

   “Gghrrgh…” he groaned, his clothing feeling so uncomfortable against his larger body. “S-so small… unfitting… grragh…”

   He swallowed a lump forming in his throat. The burning at the side of his neck had almost faded at this point, the tattoo he had given himself having inked itself into his skin to the point of it being a real tattoo. Furthermore his neck was wider, diameter larger and the size thicker. It made his vocal cords tingle, his breaths continuing to get deeper and deeper before settling on a tone that was more masculine than it used to be. Rougher, tougher, and rugged sounding. Although it seemed due to the size of his neck the choker he wore snapped off and slipped off him.

   Show those strong muscles of yours, show that weak clothing of yours who's boss!

   Mike’s groping came to a halt at this point. The man lifted up his arm, a dumb smile forming on his face as he gave it a good fleeeeex and watched as the sleeve of his shirt tore against his bicep. “Awesome!”

   By this point the line of what was considered Mike and what was considered the strange force within him was blurring. The once foreign thoughts were becoming more proper, fitting for the person he was just about feeling he is. The new personality and mentality, one that felt more confident and stronger than he used to be. Although the concept of ‘used to be’ felt impossible. The more he stared at this strong form of his the more those earlier thoughts about this being his felt correct.

   “Heheh, this feels good!” he stated, no longer supporting himself on the doorway and giving his other arm a good flex to watch the sleeve on it shatter over his muscles.

   At this point the last set of physical changes were moving onto his face. As he smiled a pressure was wracking his skull, squeezing and sculpting his facial features into those of a completely different man. His skull structure got larger and wider, and with it his jawline reshaped and chiseled itself from the broadness. It almost protruded to the sides at this point. The way his jawline looked aided in shifting the way his skull physically appeared, the overall shape of his head looking boxy and rectangular. 

   With his jawline shifting, his once clean-shaven appearance got lost as black hairs poked out the skin of his chin. It started as a small amount rising from the tip of his chin, but that quickly spreaded across his lower jaw as a whole bunch more stubble dotted itself across the man’s jawline. Alongside that came more and more of his facial features getting shifted. The once rounded tip of his nose was getting pointier while the overall wideness of it narrowed a little bit. The brownish hairs of his eyebrows deepened to a dark black as they got thicker, bushier, and their appearance slanted until they gained an arched appearance. All of this had caused the previous appearance of Mike, the one that looked so worried and self-conscious, to be done away and morphed into the cocky visage of a new man that exuded raw confidence and self-assuredness!

   His hair was the very last part that turned. The browns of the follicles deepened to a perfect black. The length of it shortened and caused the overall messy and fluffy appearance to disappear at a rapid pace. In its stead came a more well kept, spiky style as clumps of his hair slicked back and jutted backwards. However, the hair at the back of his head jutted upwards, and all this spiking met at a focal point at a specific point at the apex of his skull. It gave his hair an organized look that somehow still appeared laid-back. All of this ended off with his sideburns thickening and trailing down the sides of his face before ending an inch or two above where his jawline would start.

   The same goofy yet confident smile on his face remained as he ran a hand through his hair and continued to admire a bicep. The man properly walked through the doorway and finally stepping into the living room. By now he didn't care about the discomfort in his clothing, and the questions of his identity were faded and buried beneath the knowledge that this is his identity. And for him he's always felt this way. So strong and assured of himself! He is talented skateboarder and actor, Lucas Lee!

   With that mental declaration in his head there came one last, albeit minor, change: his clothing. The cottony feel of his shirt hardened as a deep black oozed across the once pristine white. Everywhere the darkness spread on his shirt a leather feel was formed, and that continued to occur for the next few moments. The shirt itself grew in size as this happened, and the very appearance of it was shifted. Metal lined the ends of the button-up’s split as the remaining buttons slipped off and dematerialized. As the metal continued to form a bit of the shirt folded into a lapel that the metal continued to line the end of before teaching the peak of the lapel’s tip. 

   The shirt’s collar flattened and extended to better meet the lapel, and by this point the leather appearance had spread across the entire torso section of what was once a shirt. Although as the leather extended itself onto the torn sleeves and repaired them, extending them over his arms and snaking the sleeves so long until they were an inch beneath his wrists, it was proven that this was no longer a shirt. Instead it was a leather jacket now. The rest of his clothing had a much less impressive change however. His pants repaired themselves and grew to better fit him, the denim shifting from its rich blue to a deep gray. His shoes did exactly the same as well by extending over his feet, covering his toes and growing airier, before properly sealing themselves shut and recoloring from black to blue.

   With all of that finished the transformation had been solidified. All that was Mike was done away. His worries and concerns were cast, replaced with the confident persona of Lucas Lee. Although it was evident he got a lot more than just the persona.

   “Eh?” Lucas raised a brow, stopping his self-admiration as he realized where he was. “The heck am I? Whose house is this?”

   That question stayed important for about… two seconds before he decided he didn't care. “Whatever. Nobody’ll mind if I make myself comfortable for a bit!”

   He takes a seat on the living room couch, completely ignores the fact his pants were unzipped, and perches his feet on the small table in front of it. He was about ready to fold his arms behind his head and lounge here for a bit, but was stopped when he felt his phone vibrate in a back pocket. With a grunt he shoved a hand into it and pulled it out, although he noticed that the thing looked a lot different than he remembered it being.

   “Don't remember this having a gold case,” Lucas remarked as he pressed the power button to take it out of sleep mode. He would've realized the wallpaper was different from his usual as well, but his focus was on the singular message displayed on the screen.

Arti 💙 heading to your apartment now did you ever come up with someplace to actually go for our date??

   Lucas tilted his head. Date? Who the heck was this guy?? Come to think of it, whose phone even is this?! There were a lot of questions crossing the man’s mind, but in the end he decided to do the most logical thing and answer the text as if it were his own phone.

You nope

   With that Lucas put the phone back into sleep mode. He wasn't really sure who this Arti was or whose phone he was currently in possession of but truthfully he didn't really care all that much. He just felt like chilling out here for a bit before heading back out, probably for another late night skate session. Although after another few seconds a single thought crossed his mind.

   …who's to say that Arti fellow wouldn't be a good time?

   Lucas smiled. Perhaps he was going to be staying here for just a bit longer…

[jbaileyfansite]

Jonathan Bailey's Interview with British Vogue at the Met Gala (2024)

“I’m very calm,” Wicked star Jonathan Bailey told Vogue just hours before he walked the red carpet at the Met Gala tonight. Of course, he was in a suite on the eleventh floor of The Mark at the time, “in my ivory tower”, he joked. “I hear it’s chaos downstairs… apparently there’s a two-and-a-half-hour queue for the lift!”

To the relief of fashion (and Bridgerton) fans everywhere, Bailey ultimately made it through the crush in the lobby to take up his spot on the steps of the Met tonight, wearing a white double-breasted jacket with a black satin lapel and black trousers by Loewe. So far, so classic – but this wouldn’t be a Jonathan Anderson design without a twist: in this case, the addition of a hand-painted metal peony with a “sugar crystal texture”. A straightforward nod to the dress code (“The Garden of Time”), the metal flower embellishment is also ideal “for someone who has extreme hay fever”, Bailey quipped.

The actor explained it was designed to take the place of the traditional bow tie, heaping praise on both Anderson and his stylist Emma Jade Morrison (“She’s a winner”). As for the secret flower on his trouser pocket, concealed by his white jacket? “That was my idea.”

Loewe feels like a natural choice for Bailey, who is fast becoming a fixture on Jonathan Anderson’s front rows. The designer has become the unofficial outfitter of the internet’s favourite dreamboats – think Heartstopper’s Kit Connor and Joe Locke, both of whom, like Bailey, have worn Loewe’s powder-blue sequined polo. Tonight, though, the Spanish house’s tailoring takes centre stage. “It’s stunning,” said the actor of his look. “It celebrates a sort of classic Old Hollywood minimalism, but then right at the front and centre is innovative design.”

Working with Anderson and his team over the past few months felt “organic and natural”, said Bailey. “It’s amazing to understand how someone like Jonathan works, to see how he’s inspired by art, but also [to work with] Loewe, as a fashion house that really prioritises craftsmanship. It’s really exciting: today feels very much like I’m a canvas for other people’s work – I’m taking a back seat!”

This is Bailey’s second Met Gala, so he has some experience of the famously intense red carpet. “Everyone talks about waiting to go on the red carpet – fashion purgatory,” he recalled of his first time at the ball. “But by chance I was in such a lovely little group of people that I knew, so it was actually quite relaxing.” One of those people was his Wicked co-star Michelle Yeoh. “That year I went straight from the after-parties to my flight [to resume filming], and the next day Michelle and I were sat next to each other in the make-up trailer. That was a whirlwind.”

Source

[starsandhughes]

Maybe sissy gets into like a HUGE fight with boys (Quinn, Luke and Jack) and like doesn’t talk to them for a couple days because she’s so upset about it?

(i can't think of an argument cause to save my life but here's how i think it would be like in headcanon form)

• for her to not talk to them for days, i’m thinking it would've happened trevor's first year in cali since they would've been 19/20 and her being so far away from jack and luke specifically would've been so new

• to be all of them, it probably would've had to be during all star break so let's say they all went when quinn was in the all star game

• she'd be distant after it happened but tried to not be so obvious since they were in public

• but once she got home? she went full no contact

• and THAT was obvious because she talks to all three of them everyday, but it became especially clear when she didn't answer quinn's pregame calls

• i think she'd have hid what went down from trevor other than the fact that she was mad at them, so he was just as confused when jack called him to see what was going on

• jamie would’ve been the one she finally broke down to and spilled everything because he didn't know any of them and wouldn't have been able to try and defend them in an attempt to comfort her

• not defend like "it's your fault" but more of say good things about them to try and get her to talk to them before she was ready

• it would be a huge reason why her and jamie are so close too

• luke would be the one to finally figure out why she was so upset with the three of them and told his brothers

• queue the long text apologies

• jack would feel the worst because they have such a deep connection and he couldn't believe he wasn't in tune to it before they went their separate ways

• so he would get the first phone call to work it out

• she'd be holding trevor's hand for all three conversations and he'd rub circles with his thumb whenever he felt her trembling

• she'd then make her way around to visit each of them because she was going literally insane from not being able to make up in person