#and i wanted to share this weird feeling/experience that happens to me

[leidensygdom]

Ok, I'm gonna start a post idea I had been pondering. If you're either mentally or physically disabled and you have opinions about representation, this is the thread for you!

So, I've been seeing more people trying to tackle the topic of autism in their stories, but I've felt some of it tries to woobify a bit what is to live with autism, or just focus on the more socially acceptable quirks of it. And as someone with autism/ADHD (was suspected of it for most of my life, got it finally diagnosed by my therapist (who specializes in autism and ADHD) last year), sometimes I'd like for people to acknowledge the more unsavoury parts of it, the weird quirks, etc.

So, this post is going to be about that- If you wanna help people understand how your disability/neurodivergency affects your life, feel free to add to it! Just mention what do you have (no need for a full list, just what you consider relevant to the post) and some experiences, quirks, anecdotes or such that you think that are not often seen in stories or media, and that you consider an important part of it. They don't need to be huge things! I encourage people to share just whatever they feel comfortable. My list is gonna be a mix of stuff, but yours can be very different. Let me start!

Clothes and how they feel was surprisingly one of the most disruptive parts of my autism. As a kid, if I was forced to wear something that caused me some bad texture/sensitivity issues, it would significantly affect my behaviour and performance. It took me many years to be allowed to use mostly sportswear. (And it turns out being a "girl" (not anymore) wearing only sportswear tends to cause a whole lot of bullying)

This happens even nowadays. I've found out that non-heeled boots are more comfortable to me than sport shoes, because feeling something against the back of my foot makes me feel overwhelmed. I tend to wear yoga pants under actual pants, because they keep the actual pants' seams from causing sensory issues. There's almost a sort of ritual on how do I need to combine clothes to be able to function "normally", mostly consisting on reducing how much they annoy me.

On that topic, hygiene is actually a huge thing too. As a kid, I wasn't allowed to shower daily. Days I didn't shower, no matter how much I tried to keep my hygiene in other days, were "bad days" to me. I would literally plan hanging out with friends or eating out around the days I was allowed to shower. I could physically feel the difference between the day I showered and the day I didn't (even if I washed my face, armpits, used the bidet, etc).

This is true even nowadays. I can thankfully now shower daily, which isn't recommended by a lot of experts (specially because it can damage your hair and skin), but it's more worth to me than having days where I feel like I shouldn't be seen in public.

Being overwhelmed sucks! Meltdowns are mostly associated with kids, mostly because adults either learn to mask them, or do everything they can to AVOID having that meltdown. I've mostly figured out routines and such. There's this one place we go eat out every other Tuesday- And in the hours we go in, there's a sort of silent corner that is always free. This week's schedule was a mess, so we went yesterday to that same place, and the silent corner was filled with a very loud group. I got extremely overwhelmed. But enough masking drilled to me means I just sat there unable to talk for maybe 30 minutes.

Autistic adults still do have autism and experience often the full spread of traits, they've just found ways to mask, or avoid being in situations where they do need to do that. I've adapted my life and routine to that. But sometimes I land on situations out of my comfort zone that will make me feel just like when I was a kid. I want to freelance online because I'm fully aware I can't perform properly in a public facing job.

Group projects sucked so much. I know they suck for most people, but most times it was easier for me to do the entirety of the project by myself and add the others' names to it than dealing with chasing people for their parts. My college had a 6-months-long massive group project in the last year, with a 7 people group, which obviously I couldn't do alone. The whole experience was so harmful in so many ways I've had several full therapy sessions talking about it :'')

One of the reasons it's because mental flexibility is HARD with autism. If i set a schedule, I expect that schedule to be followed. If people agree to do a part, I expect that part to be delivered (unless there's a proper reason) on due time. People hate this a lot usually! It will tear group projects apart!

Stimming can be harmless, or it can be very annoying to some. I tend to shake legs and play with something in my hands. I could easy this off drawing in classes- My high school found out that I was paying more attention when I was allowed to draw in classes, and my academic performance was pretty much perfect, so they gave me permission to do that.

However, I had a teacher in middle school that did forbid me from drawing. I stimmed during a class with pens- She got so mad she sent me home with a note to my parents they had to sign. Fun!

Not exactly an anecdote, but I am ace. I hate the discourse about "making an autistic person be aro or ace is infantilizing autism". Aro/ace people can have autism. That's just how it is. I've been infantilized a lot for being ace- Which only got worse because I am autistic, and people perceived some of my special interests as child-ish. The combo didn't make things easy.

On that topic, people will often be very patronizing of your opinions or takes for being autistic. I've had people debate my sexuality (or lack of thereof), my gender identity and presentation, my hobbies, my preferences for everything, down to "what do you want to eat tonight?". This isn't too different to shitty takes about how "autistic people are more prone to being affected by the trans activistsTM", because people assume autistic people can't choose on their own. Trust me: We can.

Anyhow, I'd love if this post could be a good compilation of these sort of anecdotes! I think it could help people who wanna learn more about what is it to live with specific disabilities (and how to better portray them in media)

#nd #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #disability #disabled #autism #adhd #neurodivergencies #long post

[imagines-ahs]

Chapter Forty-Eight: Bisque.

Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.

Tag List: @mayfair-fleur @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe @golddustdykes​ @lovingsarah @slut-for-sarah @geinobinarie​ (message me to be added if interested!)

“Affection memories are the best kind,” Billie’s words came as soft as melted butter. “How old were you?”

I’m not sure I have many of those. “Six.”

“I wish I could have seen young Wilhemina eating cheesecake for the first time.” The corners of Billie Dean’s sparkled lightly. Venable couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as she took another bite.

“Do you have any pictures from when you were young?”

Even though the question seemed a little odd, Billie had learned not to judge. It was safe to say their experiences in life had been very different, even though they shared their fair amount of similarities. She nodded as she took a bite. “I do. Why?”

Wilhemina shrugged. “I’d like to see them… sometime. If that’s alright with you.”

“Of course.” Weird. But it made sense… Billie did want to see younger Venable, too.

Wilhemina nodded slowly as she looked down at her plate. I think I might have a few pictures from school… Granted, she had always hated taking pictures. Brown eyes moved back up to Billie Dean, and a small smile graced Venable’s features as she realized the small amount of cream cheese on Billie’s face. “Your chin,” she said softly.

“Hm?”

“You have cream cheese on your chin.”

“Oh.” Billie let her fork go and reached for a napkin. She chuckled as she wiped her face clean. “Thank you.” Embarrassing.

“Of course.” I can’t believe the nerve of her to look good even with cream cheese on her face.

Carefully taking one last bite, Billie Dean set her plate aside. She licked her lips and made sure no bits were left on her cheeks. Venable still savored the dessert, and so honey eyes watched her. In no time, they were back at the living room with the dishwasher all loaded and running. Purpura sleepily watched them from her spot at the center table.

“That was good,” Billie sat back down at the couch, right beside Wilhemina, whom nodded.

“When did you first find out you had a talent for finding good food?” Venable teased as she leaned back against the couch. Billie Dean let out a small chuckle. Is it safe to feel that comfortable around her? That was a constant doubt in her mind.

“I think it’s a talent only for you.” She reached for one of Venable’s legs, hand resting on her knee and caressing it on top of the pants.

Wilhemina smiled to herself. Floratta Blue permeated her house in comforting tones of coral. “If you say so…”

“Mhm.” Leaning closer, Billie kissed Wilhemina’s cheek before resting back on the couch.

With the corners of her eyes sparkling lightly, Venable turned her head to stare at Billie Dean. The caresses on her leg no longer felt foreign. Such a short time… Things with Emma had taken so long so develop to whatever it had been. How was any of that even happening with Billie? “Will you help me set my iPad?”

“Of course.”

Afternoon dawned and night arrived pretty fast. Shades of orange invaded the living room as Billie Dean was just done helping Wilhemina set everything, and then Venable got up to turn the light on. The iPad now lay charging on the corner table, already with the purple case on and a few apps installed. Honey eyes watched as Wilhemina caressed Purpura on her way back to the couch, and as she was about to comment on her trousers, her phone began to ring from her purse. Brown eyes moved to hers. Billie Dean bit her lower lip and wished the name on the screen didn’t start with the letter ‘E’—thankfully, it didn’t. “It’s Jenny,” she told Venable before walking to the bathroom, receiving a nod back. Closing the door, Billie quickly picked it up. “Hello?”

“Stop ignoring my texts!” From the other side, Jenny yelled teasingly.

“I’m not!” Billie said with a chuckle. “I just haven’t been around my phone today.”

“Oh! Oh—oh! You’re at her house?!”

Laughing, Billie Dean moved to sit down on the closed toilet lid. “Yes, I am.” Her words were quiet, low.

“Did you spend the night? Oh, of course you did!”

Billie couldn’t help but find Jenny’s excitement funny. “I did, but nothing happened.”

“How come?”

“We’re going slow.”

“Did you make out at least?”

“Jenny!”

“Come on!”

Smiling to herself, Billie Dean nodded on the phone. “Yes…”

“So she does have feelings for you, huh?”

“… yes.”

“Where’s my ‘You told me, Jenny. You’re always right, Jenny. I should give you a raise, Jenny.’?”

“Shut up!” Billie chuckled yet again, hearing as the girl did the same on the other side of the phone. After a moment, she bit her lip. Their laughs died down. “Thank you…”

“You’re welcome,” Jenny’s voice came softly, now. “On a more serious note, is everything alright? Is she treating you well and not like she’s made out of ice?”

Billie Dean shook her head. “She’s the sweetest, Jenny…”

“If you say so.”

“Truly.”

“I believe you.”

Billie licked her lips as she thought. “Was Emma alright? Yesterday, when you dropped her home?”Silence. Billie Dean felt Jenny shifting on the other side of the line. Oh no.

“She was just drunk. Do you really want to talk about her now?”

“She said something about Terry, didn’t she?”

Jenny took a deep breath. Billie gulped. “She said a lot of things…”

“Jenny…”

“Yes. She did talk about Terry.”

“Fuck,” Billie breathed out. Closing her eyes, she reached to massage her temple. “What did she say?”

“I don’t remember exactly—or rather, I didn’t understand it very well— but it was something that had to do with telling Wilhemina about her.” Billie Dean groaned. “She was drunk and very much mad at you, I doubt she’ll do anything,” Jenny tried to amend. It didn’t help much.

“She thinks she knows what happened, and she’s assuming that’s what I am doing with Wilhemina.”

“Yeah…”

“That’s not it, Jenny. Terry wasn’t even fired because of that!” Her voice raised a little. Billie quickly took notice of it and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.

From the other side, Jenny gulped. “I know, Billie… but you do know that a few people can’t help but make that connection, right?”

Billie Dean took a deep breath. “Yes…” And it fucking sucks. Just another thing people assumed about her life, as if she didn’t have enough of that already.

“Have you told her about it?”

“Wilhemina?”

“Yes.”

“No… not yet.” Honey eyes fell down. Billie sucked on her lower lip. “I think it’s too soon.”

“Billie, it’s either you telling her or her possibly finding it out through Emma… and I really don’t think you’d like the latter.”

“I know,” Billie Dean murmured. “What else did she tell you?”

“She just cried a lot… and called you a bunch of names.”

“Fair,” she murmured again.

“Not really, but we’ll not dwell on that right now.” Billie nodded to herself. “Are you spending the weekend there?”

“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, Billie Dean sat up a little better. “Why?”

“Just asking. The reports about the party should be out on Monday, and we need to approve the pictures for the special.”

“Right. You can ask them to e-mail me the material.” I desperately need a break from working. The end of the year was always hectic for Billie Dean.

“Already did. They’re waiting on an answer until Monday, noon.”

“Perfect. We can do it in the morning, then.”

“Mhm.”

“Do I need to do anything this weekend?” Billie had found Jenny’s question a little odd, so it was always best to ask.

“Not really. I was just curious about you and her,” the girl chuckled.

“Oh.” Chuckling back, Billie got up from the lid. That’s good at least. “I’ll tell you more on Monday.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting excitedly as the reason for all of that to be happening I am.”

“Silly,” Billie Dean teased back. “Alright, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Alright. Have a good weekend, wink wink.”

“You too, you annoying human.” With both of them laughing, Billie ended the call. She looked up to the mirror and fixed her clothes and hair, eyes glued on herself. She sighed. She’ll think I do that with everybody. Maybe that talk could wait until Monday… or at least until tomorrow. Billie Dean decided she wouldn’t think about it now. At least not for the night. She still had another whole day before the next week, after all.

Quietly stepping out of the bathroom, Billie Dean walked back to the living room; she didn’t find Venable there. “Wilhie?”

“In the bedroom,” Venable called back.

Quietly still, Billie Dean followed that way. As she got to the room, her eyes were graced with the lovely image of Wilhemina, sitting on the bed with Purpura and a tube of lotion by her side. Lavender notes invaded her nostrils. Billie smiled. “Are you moisturizing her?” She remembered Venable had said something about it, once.

Wilhemina nodded. She reached for more of the lotion and gently caressed the cat’s back, which purred lowly. “Winter makes her skin drier.”

“She’s so well behaved.” Carefully, Billie sat down beside Wilhemina. She watched as her hands worked on Purpura, so gentle and caring. And with such long and dainty fingers… not now. Billie Dean licked her lips and looked back up at Venable, watching the way she was so absolutely focused on the cat, with lips curling up and eyes so soft above the sky of freckles there. To be loved by her must be holy. She could only wish to experience that one day. “Can I help?”

Taken positively aback, deep brown eyes met honey ones. “To moisturize her?” Billie nodded. Venable opened a smile. “Of course.” She reached for the lotion and pushed it closer to Billie Dean. “Here. Her chest is missing still.

“Okay.” As gentle as she could, Billie Dean scooped a small amount of lotion on her fingers and began to caress the cat’s chest, right underneath her neck. Purpura purred a little louder, shifting on the mattress to accommodate the hand. Billie smiled, and as she looked up at Wilhemina, their eyes and smile met again. Air seemed scarce all of a sudden. I want to give her the world.

I love her. When had anyone ever treated Purpura like that? When had anyone wanted to be a part of her life like that? How scary? How good? How foreign? “She likes it,” Wilhemina said, voice as soft as melted butter. “She likes you.”

With a tiny chuckle, Billie Dean used all of her strength to take her eyes off of Venable and look back at the cat. “I like her, too.” With her free hand and mindful of her nails, she reached to pet the cat’s head. Purpura leaned against it, eyes closed. Another chuckle left Billie’s lips.

With her teeth trapping her lips in order not to allow them to smile too big, Wilhemina kept on watching them. She pulled her hands away and wiped them on a towel she had taken, cleaning them of the lotion. After a minute or two, she spoke again. “Thank you for being so nice to her…”

“Of course,” Billie Dean’s eyebrows drew closer in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Venable shrugged. My mind clearly works wrong. “It’s just that… a few people can be mean because of—of how she looks.” Just like they are to me. She nervously licked her lips. “You know… the skin.”

Billie’s frown grew for a second until she understood just how deep the topic actually was. Her eyes reflected nothing but kindness now. “There’s nothing wrong with how she looks, Wilhie… and even if there were, quote on quote, something wrong about her, that wouldn’t be an excuse for people to treat her in any way but kind.” Gulping again, Wilhemina nodded. She took a discrete deep breath and clutched the small purple towel on her lap. Billie Dean took notice of it. She’s nervous. With her own heart picking up slightly in speed, Billie looked down at the cat for a second before looking back up at Venable. Her lips curled up on the corners. “Besides, I think she looks really cute.”

This time, it was Wilhemina who looked away from Billie Dean. Her cheeks tinted softly. The underlying tone of their conversation was very much explicit. “R-really?”

“Oh, yeah.” She knows I’m talking about her. There was no need to point that out. Billie had been learning compliments and words of affirmation were better left in the murky, at least for now. “More than cute, I think she’s beautiful.” Clutching the towel in her hands a little harsher, Venable nodded quietly. She slowly looked back up, and when her eyes met honey ones again, she found a look in them that left her warm all over, sweet all over, comforted all over. Billie Dean’s smile grew lovingly, pouring affection all over. Carefully not to disturb Purpura, Billie scooted closer to Wilhemina, hand reaching to cup one of her cheeks—slowly, so she could ask her to stop if she wanted. She didn’t. Billie Dean’s thumb caressed the plump crimson skin with so much tenderness it nearly hurt. Venable sighed lowly. “You’re beautiful, Wilhemina,” she whispered, voice as soft as a cozy blanket and as sweet as honey. She could feel Venable’s breath against her lips, faster than usual and oh so inviting. So she kissed her, slow and gentle and affectionate.

With blood rushing up to her head, Wilhemina felt her hands trembling against the cloth. She did the best she could and let go of it, reaching to caress Billie’s arm as she kissed her back. Their lips danced slowly and passionately, and for a split second Venable felt herself losing touch with the parts that could be so damn horrible to her. Her lips picked up in intensity, and she subconsciously scooted closer to Billie Dean, too. Purpura meowed from between them, therefore causing the kiss the break. Wilhemina took a deep breath as she stared at Billie’s eyes, lips rosy and tingling deliciously. Billie Dean watched her closely, thumb still tracing Venable’s cheek. I’m terrified things will change. Reality set back in. Wilhemina gulped. “I’m n-not used to that…”

“Compliments?” Venable nodded. I know. Billie smiled sadly. “Any chance I can help you get used to them?”

With her cheeks still red and hot, Wilhemina bit her lower lip. Hesitantly, she nodded. “It might take a while…” It might never happen at all.

With the softest smile she could manage, Billie Dean reached to tuck a lock of red hair behind Venable’s ear. “That’s okay,” she whispered. Billie felt as dark brown eyes fell down to her lips, so she leaned closer and kissed Wilhemina again, which got herself a sweet sigh. Billie Dean pulled away just enough to stare at Venable. “I’m not in a rush.” She had said that already, about many things, but she would never grow tired of easing Wilhemina’s mind.

And yet again, there she was… bare, raw in front of Billie. Vulnerable, and yet she didn’t feel so scared. That’s scary. Would that become something usual for her?

Sunday morning arrived as sweetly as the past night had been; Wilhemina found herself falling asleep tangled in Billie Dean’s arms again, this time receiving kisses on the forehead until she, eventually, allowed sleep to win. When the first ray of sunlight slipped through the curtains, their limbs were still tangled and their skin was still warm from their embrace. It was Venable who opened her eyes first, eyebrows close as she frowned from the light. When her vision wasn’t so blurry anymore, Wilhemina focused on whatever was in front of her—it happened to be Billie, still fast asleep and with her lips inches away from her own. She took a deep breath. I kissed her. Venable licked her own chapped lips, body falling slowly into reality as it got aware of its position: legs tangled with Billie Dean’s, an arm that wasn’t its own wrapped around her waist, feet touching, blonde hair tickling her face. How lovely was it, to not wake up alone? To not always be by herself? Wilhemina took another deep breath, brown oceans examining the face in front of hers. Is she even real? Venable still had her doubts. Billie frowned as a strand of her own hair tickled her face, nose scrunching up. Wilhemina smiled to herself and reached to pull the strand of hair away and behind Billie Dean’s ear. As she pulled her hand away, she couldn’t help but brush her knuckles against Billie’s face, caressing her peachy skin. I shouldn’t be so attached already. How could she not? When that woman treated her and made her feel a way she had never experienced before? Venable watched as Billie Dean began to slowly open her eyes. She smiled sleepily to herself.

Letting out a small sigh, Billie hummed as her vision came into consciousness, body snuggling closer to whatever was providing it warmth. Lavender soon clouded her senses, and so Billie Dean finally fixated on the face in front of her. Her lips mirrored Wilhemina’s sleepy smile. Was she watching me? “Hi,” Billie croaked out, as sweet as she could manage in her state.

“Hello.” Venable’s smile grew as her cheeks began to tint for some reason. Down her legs, she felt as Billie Dean’s foot caressed her own. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Billie shook her head before hiding her face against the pillow to cover a yawn. Her hand reached for Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her closer. “You didn’t.” She looked back at dark brown eyes. “I wouldn’t have minded if you had, though.”

Venable nodded at the words as spidery fingers slowly moved up to cup Billie Dean’s cheek. Wilhemina just stared at her for a minute before taking a deep breath. “I like waking up next to you,” she whispered. I didn’t know not being alone could ever feel this way.

Coral fingernails scratched softly against the cloth of Venable’s purple pajamas, caressing her waist and the small of her back. Billie Dean leaned closer and kissed her gently on the lips. I hope my breath is tolerable. “I like waking up next to you, too,” she whispered back. Wilhemina stared at her like she was made of all the stars in the universe, eyes shining and all. Billie couldn’t help but pull her even closer, and this time Venable’s hand fell down to her waist and pulled her closer, too. Their bodies left no space between each other, breaths mingling. “I sleep pretty well when I’m with you… you’re warm and you don’t snore,” she teased.

Chuckling lowly, Wilhemina bit her lip to stop her smile from growing too much. “Why, thank you. I could say the same, but your feet are freezing,” she teased back, because being playful didn’t come with a sentence of being punished when it came to Billie Dean.

With a laugh, Billie made sure her feet were well tangled with Venable’s. “I don’t know why they’re so cold.”

Wilhemina hummed. She reached for the hand that caressed her waist and tangled her fingers with Billie Dean’s. “So is your hand.” She caressed the cold digits between her own, trying to warm them up. “Are you cold?”

“Not really.” Billie licked her lips, and part of her heart still melted every time she was reminded of how just how caring Venable was with her. “Are you?”

“No,” Wilhemina shook her head. She let go of Billie Dean’s hand and now caressed her arm, even though Billie had said she wasn’t cold. Billie Dean didn’t mind, not at all. She kept a smile printed on her lips. “Are you hungry?” I should have bought some pastries.

“A little.”

“I can cook us an omelette, or maybe I can go out and get a few pastries, if you’d like. There’s this—“

“Wilhie,” Billie Dean cut Venable gently just as she was about to start lifting the covers to get out of bed. Wilhemina looked at her. “Can we cuddle a little?”

With her cheeks turning purple, Venable nodded. She blinked twice before slowly snuggling closer to Billie again. “Sorry,” she whispered.

Billie Dean shook her head. Hadn’t it been Wilhemina, she could have thought that maybe there was something wrong with her, but being Venable, she knew she was simply eager to please. “You don’t have to apologize,” she whispered back. Her hand found its place on Wilhemina’s waist again, caressing it. She’s always so anxious.

With a nod, brown eyes fell down. Venable took a deep breath. I’m so idiotic. The deprecating voice was already up and running. She gulped and looked back at honey oceans, legs tangling back with Billie’s. After a moment, she spoke again. “I like cuddling with you,” she said, because part of her felt like Billie Dean could maybe be thinking otherwise, and she didn’t want to ever cause Billie Dean to think like that.

She’s worried. Opening a smile, Billie reached to pull a strand of read hair away from Venable’s eyes. “I know, darling. I didn’t think otherwise.”

Darling. Wilhemina didn’t know if her stomach would ever stop turning with the pet name. This is the second time she’s called me that. How delicious did it feel? “Good,” she murmured somewhat shyly.

Billie Dean hummed back, hand caressing her waist slowly, feeling as it rose and fell with Venable’s breathing. She stared at those chocolate eyes in front of her, watching the way they moved away and back to her own. She’s shy. Her lips curled up softly. “Did you dream of anything?”

Wilhemina shook her head, eyes struggling to stay at brown ones. “Not that I remember. Did you?”

Billie Dean had actually had a dream; she saw a woman, hair red just like Venable’s, face full of suffering and with lines well marked. She cried, but couldn’t speak. Wilhemina didn’t need to know that. “Not really.” Venable hummed. Billie licked her lips, eyes tracing the soft freckles on Wilhemina’s cheeks. “I love your freckles,” she said after a second.

To be stared at like that had never felt good… not until Billie Dean. Venable’s skin grew red still, but not from being uncomfortable. “I’m not a huge fan of them…”

What’s new? Wilhemina didn’t seem to be a huge fan of anything that made her who she was. Billie didn’t need to point that out, but she did keep that in mind. “You always cover them, don’t you?” Venable nodded. Billie Dean opened a sad smile. “I love them,” she repeated.

Wilhemina gulped. She nodded again, eyes falling down before going back up. She licked her sudden dry lips. “Thank you.”

Billie couldn’t help but smile a little more. It was clear Venable wasn’t used to being complimented, or having any kind of intimacy with people, but there was something so sweet about it… so strangely pure, in a way. Most people wouldn’t see it that way, but Billie Dean had never been most people. So she leaned closer and placed a small kiss on Wilhemina’s nose, and then another one on her left cheek, and another one on her right one, right on top of the freckles. Wilhemina blinked twice, and with a chuckle Billie Dean kissed her full on the lips, reaching to cup her face.

Sunday went by with nothing but sweet kisses being shared and a movie or two being watched. When the night began to fall down again, Billie Dean hesitantly went back home, but with the promise of seeing each other on Monday morning. Billie knew she should have talked about Terry; knew she should have brought it up before anyone else had the chance, but how could she when Venable looked at her so lovingly and gave her more trust than she had ever given anyone in a long time? Billie Dean simply didn’t have the guts to do it. And she prayed no one would before she could master the courage to do so.

At night, Wilhemina caught herself missing the warmth of another body next to her. Floratta Blue lingered in the air only slightly, and Venable wished she could smell more of it. Fear clouded her senses before sleep could, trying to trick her, trying to scare her. Wilhemina closed her eyes and thought about Billie; about the kiss they shared just before she entered her car and drove home that evening. Nothing would change in the morning. Nothing would change in the week. Right?

#rabexxpaulson #would you swallow all your pride? #ahs #would you swallow all your pride #wysayp #ahs murder house #ahs apocalypse #ahs hotel #ahs fanfiction #willhemina venable #billie dean x wilhemina venable #billie dean howard #american horror story #ahs fanfic #lesbian fanfiction #lesbian fanfic #lesbian story #lesbian

[sir-subpar]

Weird idea(s) for my Reimagined Hazbin thing:

I might give it a new name soon. Just so we can differentiate it from the original one. Because the more I do this the more I kind of wish this was my own story but wish it also wasn't. I have mixed feelings.

Charlie is technically hald angel, because Lucifer is her father.

But her personality is so unbelievably doe-eyed innocent to the point where it's really frustrating and doesn't make sense. That's something we all know. I've said it before, many others have said it, not a new take.

But I do have a weird concept for my rewrite. I have my jungle for that she keeps This truly horrifying form hidden underneath her porcelain doll like exterior. It's a concept I've played with before. (More under the cut)

I like the idea sje made this rehab project out of some spite against Lucifer. If Lucifer restaurant of Heaven for trying to be better than God, maybe Charlie is trying to be better than Lucifer. In a sense it's come full circle.

But it made me think, would have been really reject her so much just because she happened to be related to lucifer? Would they have let her into heaven at some point?

Does Lucifer have shared custody with Lilith in heaven?? Because we see Charlie get taken away as a child, but she's still in hell right now?

Did she go to hell my choice? Was she forced to go? Is it a shared custody thing and then she decided to stay in hell in adulthood?

Part of me is actually kind of curious to explore what that kind of childhood would be like to experience.

And I do wonder if maybe I should explore that in my reimagined version of her. Did she spend part of her childhood in heaven and part of it in hell?

And I also thought about her role in hell overall. Lucifer is immortal, so why have anybody possibly inherit the throne? What is the point of that? Especially for somebody who is infamously selfish and prideful like Lucifer.

Is she not quite holy and not quite unholy?

And then I had a thought.

Maybe her domain isn't heaven, and it isn't hell.

It's limbo, the in between.

I like the idea that she's full of conflicting intentions, just as her childhood was. Does she question her own motives? Is she actually doing this for the greater good or to prove a point? That's what I want to explore. I like the idea that she still has a cutesy exterior, but her true form is barely contained.

She suppressed it, she denies it, she doesn't want to be a demon, but it's part if her, she too, is flawed. She wants to believe she is a wise moral compass, but she too, is lost.

Maybe she has some friends in hell and some in heaven.

Quick sketch I did.

It might be a weird concept, but isn't that the point of Indie projects? To experiment? To try other things? See what happens.

So, tell me, what do you think of this idea?

If you have any questions or would like any clarifications, let me know.

I'm typing this whole Post in one go so it may not make as much as I think it does.

#subpar speaks #hazbin critical #charlie reimagine #vivziepop critical #I do not support Vivziepop #I do not like the show as is #it feels like the original concept had potential #if you look at it like a series of writing prompts #I feel like people have taken this concept and ran with it all over the internet #and I think that is beautiful #anti vivziepop #anti hazbin hotel #anti harassment

[bella-but-not-hadid444]

idk wether this is an autism thing, or maybe its just me

but whenever i talk for extended periods of time, or im hyperverbal on a certain day, i feel quite guilty about talking, the guilt makes me want to never talk again, idek whyy i feel guilt after talking lots, i just do. 

but every time, wwithout fail, it makes me want to never talk again, the compel of being silent for the rest of my life is so strong.

like im supposed to be the quiet, reserved, socially awkward one, so when i chatter and talk with different people i feel bad about not fitting those adjectives all of the time :(

#btw i am fully verbal #but sometimes i dislike talking #and i wanted to share this weird feeling/experience that happens to me #i tried to word this is a way that did not undermine the struggles of non-speaking/semi-verbal (etc) people #pls tell me if ive written anything tone deaf/rude/incorrect as i am still fairly new to all the terminology and stuff #(i was diagnosed about 2 and 1/2 months ago i think!!) #thank you #:) #neurodivergent #autistic

[theygender]

The more I think about it the more I really feel like the recently coined term mesosex might fit me and it's been shared by several intersex education/advocacy blogs I follow now so I know there's support for the term but I'm still like. Scared I would be Intruding™ on intersex issues if I started using it. Like I mean. I'm an afab & (afaik) perisex person with a reproductive disorder that's likely caused by a (non-intersex) hormone imbalance which I'm now essentially having to take feminizing HRT to fix, and as a result I'm now growing tits and undergoing female-pattern fat redistribution at the age of 25 after years of having little to no secondary sex characteristics. I've always identified with intersex issues but now that I'm essentially having to undergo HRT to make my body match my asab that connection to intersex issues feels even stronger. And like that's what the term is for. But my anxiety is still like "but what if you're intruding tho" lol 🙃

#rambling #for the curious the specific disorder is endometriosis and recent research has shown that endo is most likely linked to #estrogen dominance which is where either your body makes too much estrogen OR not enough other hormones (progesterone & testosterone) #and given that the only thing that has helped me at all has been going on full progestin-only treatments #and the fact that everything ive researched about estrogen dominance and low progesterone matches up with my symptoms #it definitely seems like low/no progesterone is the issue for me #(although the docs didnt test my levels beforehand and now i cant get them tested unless i want to go off treatments 🥲) #and like. this progestin treatment has changed my fucking life. legitimately #like it didnt just stop my (pretty severe) endo it also fixed like. all of my physical health issues. stuff i didnt even know was related #dont wanna get off topic talking about my other health issues but. going on progestin has easily been the best health thing to happen to me #but it also feels so fucking weird to be going through the same type of changes that like transfems go through on hrt essentially #as an afab perisex person. its not a bad weird but like its just a strange phenomenon and it would be nice to put words to it i guess? #like im a person who has lived the last 10+ years disabled by a reproductive disorder that prevented my body from developing 'normally' #and now im going through feminizing hrt at the age of 25 to fix my reproductive disorder #thats not exactly like. the normal perisex afab experience lol. but at the same time my specific reproductive disorder and hormone imbalance #dont classify me as intersex (no hyperandrogenism just some mix of too much estrogen/not enough progesterone or testosterone #typical anatomy (afaik) aside from the uterine abnormalities resulting from endometriosis) #and its just. such a weird position to be in. i share a lot of common ground with intersex issues but im not intersex myself #and the whole purpose of mesosex was to create a word for people who arent quite either. 'people who identify with but not as intersex' #and i think that describes me. but also like.... do i count?? 😭 #tmi #request to tag

[elenadoeslife]

This morning I spent 2 hours typing up a (draft) post about intimacy & abuse and I feel so much lighter. It's like coming up for air, after spending so many years feeling like I was drowning 🌊

#feels weird to write about it so openly #maybe i'll share it someday #once i don't feel the need to protect that person's image. it's my experience and it did happen. #feels so joyous and i want to share that feeling with you. but i'm just gonna enjoy it myself right now #you all mean a lot to me

[flower-zombie-rob]

When i meet new people its really like

Me: okay. This is going splendid. This is going amazing. I like you, you are very nice, you are very wonderful, you are friend-shaped and you are great! This is going really well so don't say it don't say it don't say it don't say it-

Them: "...my ex/current partner..."

Me: FUCK, ANOTHER ONE???? So it really is just me around here that's never had any kind of relationship or interaction with someone who loves me like that?????? Wtf!??!?!

#It's so weird it's like everybody got this Handbook where they were able to have their first kiss or their first relationship as a child #And it's so easy for these people who are my age and have had multiple axes or are currently in a healthy relationship with someone #But for some reason I just can't seem to find somebody #And as much as I would love to go out and look or have some online dating site due to my current situation I just can't #And I've just sort of had enough of people saying that it happens at some point and they would prefer if they had never had a relationship #But that's a bit of a pisstake considering they don't really understand what it's like to have all of your peers understand what it's like #to be in relationships and have people flirt with them or hold their hands or kiss them or want to be with thsm #or do general couply things with them #And you just feel like some kind of stupid outlier who will never understand because no one seems to want you that way #its just fucking annoying every single time i meet someone i always think it might finally be a shared experience but no #everyone has it figured out #except me i gues #s #and i cant stand people saying theyd just fuck off no you wouldnt #its lonely it feels like shit you feel irrelevant you feel stupid and unloveable because for some reason youre the only one and it feels #like its never gonna change so no no you do not wish you were liks that again because it feels like absolute shit and i hate it #i just know itll reach a point where i get too old to be a newbie to this kind of stuff and im worried thats gonna affect my chances of #having a partner at that point. meeting peoples really hard and connecting with thems way harder but everyone else seems to just have this #ability that i dont. everybody can pull somebody #and i just dont have that and it makes me so upset #sorry #I really went on a vent style tangent there and I didn't mean to #ill tag it as one now #vent #tw vent

[alkibiadessuperfan]

who would have thought that seeing a friend would make everything better?

#my lesbian loneliness problem😭 #she sat down for one second was like: honest fr because we havent seen each other in way too long but I am a lesbian and we both know that #and i was like: oh my???? really? i‘m so proud of you!!!! #and then we got mad drunk and istg together we are awful (in the best way lmfao) we just giggled and screamed the entire night #sharing stories and experiences #and talking about women and just😭😭 i aM SO GLAD #i needed that because i was starting to feel so weird and ashamed too #one good friend can make everything so much better #we destroyed glasses accidentally🤡🤡 and then we watched bg3 scenes at like 5 am when we wanted to sleep #and she let me scream about minthara lmaooooo #and ofc about dates i went on and things that happened at work #and she told me about her experiences and stuff🫶😭 #i am so relieved and feeling good

[arachine]

yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing. 

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks. 

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince: 

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’” 

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up. 

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad. 

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?” 

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there. 

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily. 

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy. 

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.” 

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level. 

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes. 

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him. 

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after. 

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.” 

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping. 

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner. 

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence. 

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question. 

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod. 

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement. 

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her. 

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul. 

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall. 

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat. 

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice. 

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed. 

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life. 

“You tried any dating apps?” 

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?” 

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?” 

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces. 

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes. 

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars. 

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!” 

“Right…” 

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too. 

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match. 

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace. 

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail. 

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’. 

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry. 

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch. 

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?” 

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response. 

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”  

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself. 

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality. 

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office. 

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.” 

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone. 

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type. 

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more. 

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit. 

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders. 

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it. 

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties). 

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile. 

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds. 

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are! 

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol). 

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so? 

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice. 

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say. 

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other. 

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it. 

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this). 

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too. 

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual. 

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago. 

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half. 

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’. 

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way. 

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult. 

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’” 

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call. 

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet. 

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body. 

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!” 

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother. 

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking. 

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.” 

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention. 

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki. 

“Come in, hon!” 

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room. 

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception. 

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment. 

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time. 

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly. 

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana. 

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate. 

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you. 

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone. 

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue. 

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them. 

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here. 

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know. 

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–” 

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him. 

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it. 

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something. 

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder. 

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t. 

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact. 

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase. 

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger. 

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?” 

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now. 

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway. 

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go. 

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs. 

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’. 

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children. 

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep. 

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him. 

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted. 

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight. 

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity. 

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say. 

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date. 

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further. 

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now. 

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot. 

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first. 

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened. 

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out. 

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch. 

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks. 

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?” 

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom. 

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you. 

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.” 

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation. 

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.” 

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting. 

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow. 

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.” 

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious. 

“Wait, what?” 

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d. 

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness. 

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating. 

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?” 

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes. 

“I don’t know…” you trail. 

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow. 

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway. 

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you. 

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.” 

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?” 

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.” 

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter. 

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed. 

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate. 

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating. 

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed. 

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit. 

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental? 

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence. 

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more. 

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.” 

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver. 

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers. 

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door. 

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?” 

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time. 

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?” 

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?” 

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you. 

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?” 

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal. 

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly. 

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.” 

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat. 

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence. 

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water. 

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?” 

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows. 

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?” 

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?” 

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?” 

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly. 

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter. 

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?” 

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass. 

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased. 

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment. 

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?” 

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy. 

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed. 

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!” 

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.” 

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.” 

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song. 

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns. 

To fall in love 

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them. 

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame. 

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage. 

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do 

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems. 

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were. 

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down. 

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling. 

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful. 

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs. 

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.” 

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay. 

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles). 

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it. 

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs. 

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.” 

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago. 

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.” 

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees. 

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound. 

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core. 

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love. 

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.” 

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you. 

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation. 

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins. 

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?” 

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue. 

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit. 

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.” 

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor. 

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them. 

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper. 

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.” 

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes. 

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone. 

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand. 

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you. 

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears. 

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers. 

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously. 

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.” 

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm. 

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind. 

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.” 

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You. 

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally. 

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give. 

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.” 

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium. 

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.” 

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days. 

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp. 

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration. 

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.” 

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you. 

Soon, that silence is broken. 

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads. 

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying. 

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you. 

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages. 

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants. 

“Shit!” 

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you. 

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!” 

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom. 

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

© arachine 2023

#art by: @yamada_souko (twt) #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk smut

[milkykotek]

success story: celebrity crush turned boyfriend

First off, I'm aware people may not believe me. However, that's completely fine! I simply don't care, because it happened, and I wanted to share. I will not be sharing explicit details due to privacy reasons for both me and my boyfriend, especially since he is a popular actor.

It took me a few weeks because I didn't want to jump into dating immediately. However, you can immediately manifest anything and quantum jump! I chose to do it step by step.

"Dp" is a term used in the LOA (Law of Affirmation, Assumption and/or Attraction) community to describe your desired person. It can be anyone. 3D is the 3d dimension, the world you see in front of you. 4D is your thoughts and the reality where everything you want is accomplished.

It happened, but... what did?

I manifested my celebrity crush! I've been interested in him for some time now (due to personal reasons me and my now ex boyfriend – whom I manifested, too – have broken up). It was quite a wild ride, to be completely honest, and as always, I turned out successful!

There seems to be a blockage many face while manifesting celebrities, or otherwise famous/popular people. They're putting them on a pedestal, and so shifting the focus from actually manifesting to idolizing them. Of course, if you're manifesting a celebrity sp, you're most likely a fan of them already – that's not the point.

You're god, you're on top of the universe, you're the most important person there is. I don't care, and neither should you, about your circumstances. They're nothing but that – a circumstance in the 3D. As we all know, the 3D reflects our beliefs, assumptions, and the things we attract by engaging them. We engage them by giving them attention and reacting. An example can be someone giving you a dirty look – "Oh my god, they hate me!," you could think, and that is your assumption. You're not sure if they were even looking at you, because they could've been looking behind you, or simply have a resting b*tch face. And so, you thinking they frowned at you is an assumption. It's quite easy to create one.

And it's also easy to change that! The LOA (Law of Attraction, Assumption and/or Affirmation) community likes to overcomplicate manifesting by claiming it is hard to change your beliefs. It really is not. Every time you encounter a negative thought (thoughts create assumptions, assumptions show up in the 3D), simply change it. It's as easy as it seems. "I feel so sad", you can change that by saying, "I'm so happy and relaxed". Don't accept things you don't want to experience. Something happened that upset you? No, it didn't. Instead of dwelling on it, ignore it or affirm "It never happened", create a new story, "(something else) happened".

how did you manifest a celebrity dp?

You manifest a celebrity just like you manifest anyone else. They're human, and I don't believe in free will – anything I don't want, I change. It may sound weird, but is there even such thing as normal when it comes to manifesting and all the possibilities the universe offers?

The only thing you must do is take them off the pedestal and regain your power and control. It's not about them – it's about you. They're the obsessed one, they're the one manifesting you, you're on their mind.

If you're searching for a recipe, there is none. However, I can share a few ingredients – things that helped me:

— affirming. Affirming is nothing more than repeating what you want to happen, ex. "My dp loves me."

— persisting. You really don't want to give up until you see results. Of course, it doesn't mean you have to manifest 24/7, but then again, we think all the time, and so we manifest all the time, too.

— living in the end. Living in the end is living as if you already had your desire. How would you feel? How would you act, what would you do? Surely you wouldn't be stressing over results and whatever it is you're manifesting, because you'd already have it. Belief isn't necessary as long as you affirm and persist, but it sure does help.

— having someone to talk to. Having someone you can talk to about your manifestation journey and being supported was really important to me. I want to thank my best friends Star and Aurora, for always supporting and believing in me ❤️. Others would've called me delusional but you guys stood by my side.

proof:

Just breathe. For this part, I wanted to share some affirmations I used.

"Everything I want is mine. Everything I want, I get. I want it, I've got it. I'm a master manifestor. I always manifest whatever I desire and want."

"My dp (insert their name) loves me. My dp wants me. My dp is obsessed with me. My dp constantly texts me. My dp is texting me right now. My dp misses me. I am constantly on my dp's mind. My dp is constantly thinking about me. My dp is my boyfriend (or girlfriend, partner, anything you desire). I am my dp's best friend and soulmate."

Good luck ❤️. 222

#manifesting #manifestation #loa blog #loa #loa tumblr #law of assumption #law of attraction #law of manifestation #law of affirmation #success story

[sellenite]

cherry blossoms 02 pairing: virgin!Choso x fem!reader contents: masturbation (m!), Choso's first kiss!, heavy-making out, no real sex but heavily implied (leading up to it), friends to lovers, heavy on consent because Choso deserves it, slow-burn (a little), fluff + smut word count: 2.4K MDNI | 18+

virgin!Choso who hadn’t been able to stop fantasizing about you since you helped him with his late-night issue over the phone. For the rest of the week, he would lay in bed at night and replay the sound of your voice over and over again in his mind. He imagined your velvety, breathy whisper as you guided him so softly and sensually—soothing, yet erotic at the same time. He thought of your moans—those sweet, angelic sounds—and what he liked to imagine you did to yourself to make them… Every night since your phone call, he found himself in the same situation: his hand wrapped tightly around his length—just like you had taught him—,fisting himself to the memory of your voice until he came. It was almost becoming his nightly routine. Choso was obsessed.

virgin!Choso who couldn’t help but crave more as the days passed. He felt a little guilty as he stroked himself at night, thinking about you, and all of the ways he wanted you to touch him... He knew how dirty it was. Even though the ideas of pleasure and masturbation were new to him, he still understood that he was beginning to view you, very, very differently than just as a “friend.” But he couldn’t stop himself. His imagination was running wild as he recounted all of the different ways you had tried to explain to him how pleasure could be felt. And he was so eager to experience all of it, to explore all of it; but he wanted it to be with you. He thought of the way you made him feel so safe. The way you talked to him so kindly and didn’t judge him for his questions. The way you looked at him with your bright, pretty eyes... Sex just wouldn’t feel right to him if it wasn’t with you. He wanted to be yours; and he wanted you to be his, too.

virgin!Choso who waited until the weekend before he finally allowed himself to invite you over. He felt a little shy when he called you. The two of you had texted since that night, but nothing had been mentioned of your assistance after you had hung up. Now all that remained was an electric tension between the two of you, one that made Choso’s palms sweat and his stomach flutter as he asked you oh-so innocently to come over. He told himself that it was perfectly fine, normal even; you were his friend, after all. And it was Friday night, and the two of you always watched movies with Yuji then. It would be more weird if he didn't invite you over, he rationalized. However, on this particular Friday, things just happened to conveniently fall into place; Yuji was out with his friends, leaving Choso alone in their shared apartment for the rest of the evening.

“I wanted to know if you would like to come over tonight… To watch a movie,” he asked, his deep voice sounding a little more quiet than usual. You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you heard his shy tone, knowing already that Yuji wasn't home.

“I’d like that, Choso,” you responded sweetly, feeling little butterflies stir in your stomach.

virgin!Choso who greeted you at his door only seconds after you knocked. He had been pacing back and forth in his living room for the last hour, anxiously anticipating your arrival. He felt his breath catch in his throat as soon as he saw you standing in his doorway. He had always thought your eyes were so pretty and that your lips looked so full and soft, but he had never understood what it meant… Until now. Now when he saw you he realized how badly he wanted you, how badly he had always wanted you—you were so perfect, so beautiful. He tried his best to keep his cool, but you could see the newfound passion he felt for you burning within his eyes.

“So… Are you gonna let me come in or what?” You asked him teasingly, letting out one of those cheerful giggles he loved so much. He felt his cheeks flush, his hand nervously rubbing at the back of his neck as he mentally slapped himself for staring at you for so long.

virgin!Choso who browsed through movies with you as you sat beside one another on the well-worn loveseat in his and Yuji’s living room. The tension between you two had reduced itself to a simmer, but Choso couldn’t help the glances he stole at your pursed lips as you watched him click through titles with the TV remote. You considered a few different options together before eventually finding an action movie that looked fun and harmless enough. However, halfway through the movie, you both watched intently as the main characters started to engage in a very specific form of action.

You could hear Choso’s breath catch in his throat as the scene turned steamy: a close-up shot of the characters making out on a bed, running their hands up and down their barely-clothed forms. The scene was fun and sexy—and still relatively tame—yet it was all too much for Choso. He had become much too aware of the proximity of your bodies as you sat shoulder-to-shoulder, feeling the heat of your skin practically radiating into his. You snuck a glance over at Choso as you heard him swallow a lump in his throat and your eyes caught on his hands that nervously twitched over his sweatpants—trying in vain to hide the tent that was beginning to form beneath the fabric. Your lips parted slightly as your eyes drifted up to meet his own, his cheeks tinged a light pink. After your phone call last weekend, it was evident that you and Choso were entering a territory that went beyond normal “friendship.” And you could tell by the way he was looking at you that he felt it too.

“Choso… Can I kiss you?” You asked him gently, reaching out to gingerly place your hand on his thigh. You felt confident that he would say yes, but there was a lingering shyness in your question; if there was any ounce of normalcy left in your relationship with Choso, this would certainly break it. Choso looked at you with wide eyes as he felt your hand rest hesitantly on his thigh before gently nodding his head.

“Yes,” he said softly, swallowing hard as he tentatively uncovered his erection and placed his large hand over your own.

virgin!Choso whose lips parted open in anticipation as your other hand found his face, your cool palm resting gently against his flushed cheek. You smiled at him sweetly as you looked into his deep purple eyes, the nervous excitement evident in his dilated pupils.

“Just close your eyes..." You told him in a gentle whisper as you started to lean in. “And follow my lead…” Your and Choso’s eyes fluttered closed as you inched your face closer to his, your hand on his cheek guiding you to his lips.

And then you kissed him. You pressed your lips to his full, plush ones tenderly, slowly even, letting him experience the sensation of the kiss gently. You felt his hand that was still resting on top of yours tighten, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the soft pressure of your lips. A warm shiver ran down his spine like melted honey. He felt dizzy as he processed the feeling of it all; the feather-light touch of your hand on his cheek, the delicate warmth in which you kissed him. His head was spinning—light-headed and giddy all at the same time—and it took him a moment to collect himself before he could kiss you back, tentatively copying the pressure of your lips against his own. You let the kiss linger for a moment before you broke it, letting your parted lips brush teasingly against his, breathing softly.

“More...” Is all Choso whispered back, a breathless flush on his cheeks as he brought his lips quickly back to yours.

virgin!Choso who kissed you back with hunger the second time, letting out a satisfied moan against your lips as he felt the warmth of your mouth return to his. He felt you smile against him as he pressed into you, his hand still nervously squeezing your own in his desperation to feel more of you. He still wasn’t quite sure what to do with his mouth, but he felt how you gently slotted your lips around his top lip and he did the best he could to mimic it on your bottom lip. You hummed in appreciation as he copied your movements, beginning to smoothly slide your mouth over his without pulling back. Choso’s kisses were a sloppy and frenzied in his initial enthusiasm, but he fell into your rhythm quickly. He could feel is heart rate skyrocketing as your soft lips melded with his own over and over again. Your touch was intoxicating and Choso was addicted—addicted to how soft you were against him, and how sweet you tasted on his lips, like candied cherries.

Your hands slid from his face to the back of his head, your fingers lacing through his soft hair that was down from its usual buns. He groaned into the kiss as he worked his mouth against yours and felt your nails gently scratch across his scalp. You could feel the way his hand seemed to twitch over yours and you took the initiative to gently guide it to your waist as you moved your body closer. Choso’s breath faltered as he felt the soft curve of your hip under his palm—practically melting at the touch—as you moved your hand to rest against his strong chest. The kiss broke as you slid your thigh over his lap, straddling his waist gently.

“Is this okay?” You asked him breathlessly but respectfully, looking deeply into his eyes for any sign of discomfort, to which you found none. A boyish smile graced his lightly swollen lips as he looked back at you, eyes shining with excitement. He nodded back fervently, both of his hands smoothing over the curves of your hips as he looked at you in awe.

“More than okay,” he answered with a breathless smile. You beamed back at him happily before you leaned in again, weaving your fingers through his soft, chocolate-colored strands as you kissed him with passion.

virgin!Choso who groaned into your mouth as he felt your hips sink into his lap, your thigh brushing against his now throbbing erection. His fingers dug into the plush of your hips as he instinctively pulled you towards his body, feeling the hunger of when he first started kissing you immediately return. He followed your lead when you let your tongue gently slide against his bottom lip, meeting yours with his own as one of his hands slid to the small of your back, pushing your body flush against his own. He was breathing heavily as he kissed you, feeling overwhelmed but in the best way possible. His large palms gripped the delicious plush of your hips and waist, holding you tightly yet tenderly. Your body was so soft beneath his hands and against his chest, and it was driving him insane. He wanted to press his lips to every inch of your skin, to feel every curve of your figure beneath his palms. He wanted to know every inch of your body as if it were his own; to treat you as softly and beautifully as you treated him.

virgin!Choso whose breath caught in his throat as he felt your lips slide away from his mouth to massage over the strong contour of his jaw. His eyes were heavy-lidded as your hand slid to his face, gently angling his chin up as you bowed your head to press a kiss to the pulse point of his neck. He let out a shaky moan as his fingers dug into your hips even harder, holding onto you like an anchor. The way your lips brushed over the sensitive skin of his throat had left him feeling delirious.

“Does that feel good, Choso?” You whispered softly against his skin, tickling his neck as you pressed another kiss to his throat, slightly lower than the last. You could feel your own arousal building as you listened to his ragged breathing and the feeling of his bulge pressed firmly into your thigh.

“Yes… Feels so good,” Choso moaned, his voice almost slurred from the way your soft mouth on his skin seemed to make his braincells evaporate. He leaned his head back further, letting your lips slide and suck over his skin, moaning again when he felt the point of your tongue slip out to tease him. He felt intoxicated, entranced, as if you had put some strange curse on him that made his mind think of you and only you. His body leaned back into the couch, absorbing the feeling of your mouth working down his neck at a sensually slow pace. Your hips began to lightly roll into his lap, grinding your aching core along his hard-on. Choso exhaled a heavy groan as his hips instinctually rolled into yours.

“Please,” he whined softly as you ground your hips gently into his, your lips and tongue still teasing over his neck. He feared that if you kept going he would burst in his pants from that alone; he was already so worked up. You picked your head up to look at him as you heard his plea, his eyes gently opening, swollen lips still parted as he breathed heavily.

“Please, what, Choso?” You asked him softly, once again searching for his explicit consent before you progressed with anything. His deep purple eyes were hungry with desire as you gazed into them, but he felt that familiar comfort he always felt with you stirring in his heart. He swallowed down the last of his nervousness before he answered you, more sure of himself than he had ever been.

“Please, touch me more,” he said gently yet confidently, his thumbs unconsciously rubbing tender circles into your waist. You smiled and nodded your head softly, pressing a kiss to his lips before you asked him sweetly:

“Do you trust me?”

PSA: If you saw me change this story for the millionth time... No you didn't... 😭 It was up for awhile before I realized that I wanted to revise it. I felt that I missed some of Choso's softness in the original version I had uploaded so I wanted to rewrite him and do him justice 🫶

But thank you so much for reading! Everyone who has read, liked, commented and/or reblogged, just know you have made my week 🫶

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso smut #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #kamo choso x reader #kamo choso smut

[middle-name-queer]

....

#i've been wanting to connect more with lesbians nblw or whatever and like i STILL want that but... #i wish people wouldn't be needleslsy cruel about men #like celebrating that you feel zero attraction to men romantically or sexually is fine i'm not referring to that at all #but going so far as to be belligerent and mock perfectly normal things like balding or ed is so fucked up #and its weird because i saw someone i thought was super trans friendly bc they themselves are not cis and yet??? #why would you share that? #its cruel to men cis and trans and cruel towards any trans women who happen to have the same experiences like??? #i guess i may have misjudged that person as safe and... god i don't know its discouraging #i don't know... it makes me really sad. it reinforces the idea in my head that i'm better off isolating #i KNOW that's not true like i know i know but damn.... people make it.... difficult #god that made me so sad to read like what the fuck

[tia-222]

My void sucess story

HII TIA!!! I can barely contain my excitement as I type this but I got into the void and manifesting my dream life. You @gorgeouslypink and @charmedreincarnation are my absolutely favorite blogs, and I couldn’t have done it without y’all. I think charm and pink are on break so I’m gonna send this to you I hope that’s okay.

Quick backstory: I’ve been in this community since the OGs, angel, Cleo, maya etc. I’ve seen all the dumb drama, the liars, the successful people, the exposing, and etc. I’m just sharing this because people think having bad experiences can hinder you from getting your desires and I’m here to remind you nope that it can’t. Nothing can. I had a phase where I would ugly cry trying to make sure all the success stories are true….I became a cop and started looking for inconsistencies on pages and liars to help me feel better. Which it didnt, It drove me mad, and I lost faith.

Until… I read pink’s doubt post which was God sent. Her entire page is God sent tbh and I recommend it to everyone. After I felt better and realized outside of tumblr people have gotten into the void, I decided I’m gonna be the next success story. So I went on your lovely page because I don’t think there isn’t a method you haven’t talked about.

You’re so educated and conduct amazing research on everything, we truly don’t deserve you Tia. Thank you for all your hard work. Anyways I was feeling good! I had so many methods to choose from, I felt like a fat kid at a candy store. And I decided my logical brain needed a logical method so I went with lucid dreaming.

This is where charm comes in. I read her lucid dreaming guide and it is literally also God sent so thank you so much for that. She had a method I had never heard of called SSILD, and even made a post about that as well… like I felt like the universe was handing me everything on a silver platter. And I saw another post that her and pink talked about using a reclining chair. So I combined SSILD with that method to make an ultimate one. And on the second day of trying I entered a lucid dream, asked a dream character to take me to the void and then manifested my dream life.

What I manifested: my dream house, dream family, dream body and face, dream amount of money, money always coming to my family and I’s bank account out of nowhere (but it’s natural and normal ) socialite Status, 25k insta followers (my lucky number) famous loyal dream athletics boyfriend (I was so scared this wouldn’t work but it did!), master manifesting abilities, dream college acceptance, (future) good self concept, a great fashion taste, never gaining weight, clear glass skin, revising my abusive past, and so much more. My list was like a whole ass essay, I obviously can’t list everything but my life is perfect now.

This was last week and I immediately booked a trip to LA with my family to look at the USC campus because that’s where I want to go and where I will go next fall, (I’m a senior). I was also looking at apartments around my school and I found my dream one so I’m manifesting no one leases it 🤭

Quick note: a lot of my desires were weird or I wanted them to manifest a specific way, or they weren’t realistic to happen immediately so I was afraid it wouldn’t work out the way I envisioned. Not only did everything work out the way I envisioned but it worked out even better and exactly how I would want them to apply to life but in a realistic way. So if that’s something you worry about don’t worry, you are God, and it will work out perfectly.

Anyways, I just wanted to share this because I failed for a while and everyone on this app was so supportive. Tumblr is genuinely like a little magical family so now everyone will see my succeed… though this on anon mode bc people have been attacking success stories lately. And honestly it doesn’t matter bc I just want to live my new spoiled life but I want to express my gratitude because my life was in shambles and you three helped me so much. So thank you again and I hope everyone who read this. No, I know everyone who reads this will get what they deserve.

HII LOVE!! WOW CONGRATULATIONS (⑅˶ᵔ ▿ ᵔ˶) ~♡

I'm very excited for you!!! And yes, void Tumblr has definitely changed rn and I feel there's many blogs on here that's good and no more liars. I'm so glad you gained faith back in the community and now you're living your dream life, love.

Aww pink and charm have the best posts on the void too <3.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink doubts post

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Charms lucid dreaming guide, SSILD method

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Gorgeouslypink recliner method

I LOVE YOUR MANIFESTATIONS AND EVERYTHING SOUNDS SO FUN OMGG!! LLYSM <33

#void state #void state success story #void state tips #manifestion #success story #loas tumblr #void success #law of assumption #the void state #neville goddard #lucid dreaming to enter the void state #lucid dreaming tips and methods #void method #void thoughts #ask answered #anon ask #void success stories #manifesting instantly #instant manifestation #manifest instantly

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part six

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five

The dinner is going on and on. Normally you really like the dinners with the McLaren team, but tonight you can’t seem to focus on anything that’s happening around you. Lando isn’t seated close to you like normal, you don’t know how it happened but there is a couple seats between you. It causes you to stare at him all the time. Oscar however is sitting next to you. He’s nice and polite, but the both of you are a bit shy. Something that causes the conversation to go not as smooth as when Lando is with you. You couldn’t stop yourself and drank a bit more then you’d normally do. You try to talk it right for yourself, but all your excuses are around Lando. Instead of doing the wise thing and order a water or a soda, you order another cocktail when the waiter asks you for your drink order. Oops?

You don’t know what’s going on with you. Since you have arrived in the restaurant, you have been feeling vague. At first it was just because Lando was seated a bit far away from you, but eventually something else happened what causes you to feel like this. Maybe vague isn’t the right word, but you can’t confess the right word. That would make things so much worse. 

The weird, unsettling feeling in your stomach and head started when Lando started to talk with another girl. You don’t know her personally and you haven’t seen her around before. Nothing too weird since McLaren is growing rather fast and hires a lot of new employees quite often. If she’s from McLaren, you don’t know for sure. Lando is talking and laughing with her, it causes you to feel terrible. Every time he lets out a laugh, you feel yourself getting jealous. 

Oscar sends you a confused look when you take a big gulp from the cocktail the waiter just brought you. He seems even more confused when he looks at his own glass, which is still half full and was order a round earlier. You can only hope that Oscar doesn’t say anything about it, but you’re quick to let go of that hope when Oscar starts to talk. 

“Everything okay?” He asks you.

You show him a simple nod as a reply. 

“Do you want me to switch places with Lando?” He asks you with a small smile, “I understand if I’m a bit boring tonight, but I’m exhausted from the race.”

“Oh no,” you quickly state, “I’m also pretty tired, so I’m not the most fun person tonight as well. And I can’t focus on anything right now.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re drinking quite a lot for someone who wants to focus?” Oscar jokes.

You let out a soft laugh. “You’re right,” you agree with him, “Don’t even know why.”

“Maybe because of the girl who’s flirting with Lando?” Oscar says without even a single doubt. Are you that obvious? Fuck. Before you can say anything to Oscar - not that you know what, are you going to lie to him or confess? Oscar is already talking again, but this time softer. “Let me help you. Just follow my lead and this is fixed in only minutes.” 

You show Oscar a confused look, but still nod at his words. Oscar says a loud hi to someone who’s sitting next to you, quickly starting a conversation with him. You look at what he’s doing, but you still have no idea how it will help you right now. 

“Did you already meet Y/N?” Oscar suddenly asks the guy. The guy shakes his head. “Really?” Oscar asks confused, “This is her, you should really get to know her.” In only seconds the guy is shaking your hand and introducing himself as Pedro. You introduce yourself as well. A small conversation is started rather quickly. Pedro is pretty interested into you, Oscar is quickly fading to the background of the conversation. You try to keep him into it as well, but Pedro keeps focussing on you. 

“We should totally dance together at the club later!” Pedro tells you full enthusiasm, you chuckle and tell him that you’re a terrible dancer. Something he doesn’t seem to care about. Conversations with him are pretty easy, before you know it he talks about how he got by McLaren recently and what he does. It seems that he’s involved in Lando his trainings, helping the team with making a better rhythm for your friend and assisting his main trainer John when it’s needed. 

“I can teach you how to dance later tonight,” Pedro tells you with a smile. It sounds a bit suggestive now that you think about it. Before you can realize, you see Lando coming closer to you. He presses a kiss against your cheek. You almost jump up when he does, since when are you doing this in public as well? 

“Hi babygirl,” Lando softly greets you. 

Pedro sends you an embarrassed look. Before he can say anything, Lando greets his shortly as well. “Pedro,” he simply says with a small nod to the guy. You don’t know if you’re right, but Lando his tone seemed different when he greeted Pedro. It almost sounded annoyed. When you look at Oscar and he shows you a grin, you realize that this was his plan all the time.

“Sorry Lando, didn’t know you two are a thing,” Pedro quickly says, he stands up and walks away after saying so. The words to deny it are still laying on your tongue. Lando is quick to take Pedro his seat next to you. You show him a confused look. What did just happen? Why didn’t Lando deny it?

“Sooo, the two of you are a thing?” Oscar asks his teammate with a small smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing by letting you meet Pedro. You send him an annoyed look, but don’t say anything. Lando can fix this. He acted this strange. “We’re not dating,” Lando states.

“Oh then why did you kiss her cheek and call her babygirl?” Oscar asks.

“It’s just the alcohol,” Lando mutters. 

Oscar laughs. He doesn’t believe the tiniest bit of it. Lando makes things even worse for himself by grabbing you on a soft way by the shoulders and pulling your body onto his. You show him a confused look, but then you allow your body to lean onto Lando. His hand find yours, he plays with your fingers before interlocking them with his own. 

“And that’s the alcohol as well?” Oscars asks while laughing.

“Fuck off mate,” Lando sighs.

“Weren’t you talking with that other girl?” You can’t help yourself and ask Lando. When you look around and let your gaze wander to where Lando was sitting before, you notice that the girl is already looking at Lando and you. You quickly look away from her, feeling uncomfortable with the stare. 

“Which girl?” Lando asks you. “The one who’s looking at us,” you reply.

“Oh, her,” he says, “She’s a bit too interested to be honest. So smile at me and act like you love me,” he continues to joke. You do what he says, you press a small kiss against Lando his cheek. You don’t even have to act like you love him. You know all to well that it’s not an act. It has never been an act. 

+++

When you’re finally in the club, you’re quick to find the dance floor. You’re dancing for fun with a couple of McLaren team members. Lando has find a place on the sidelines where he can focus all his attention on you. He laughs when you almost bump into another girl. Oscar has found a place next to his teammate. The words Oscar is saying aren’t landing by Lando, he’s way too focused on you. 

He’s completely focused on you and the dress you’re wearing. The dress has been on his mind for the whole evening. It’s unfair how good you look in it. It causes him to want to spread your legs for him so he can pull out another orgasm from you. Or for you to drop on your knees, so he can fuck your mouth and finally can get rid from the sexual tension that has been hanging around him since his podium. Or just your hand firmly around his boner to give him his release. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t care how it happens as long as there happens something. And the best would be if you were just close to him, showing everyone that the beautiful girl on the dance floor belongs to him. Only you don’t. It causes him to have a headache. Why aren’t you his? He really needs to change this.

“There’s really nothing going on between Y/N and you?” Oscar asks Lando.

“No,” Lando quickly states.

“So you won’t mind if my friend asks her on a date?” Oscar continues to ask, “Since you acted a bit weird with Pedro giving her attention..”

Lando doesn’t even react to the question, he can only focus on one thing. “Who?” He asks. His head is filling up with all kind of questions. Which friend from Oscar wants to date you? Would you date that friend as well? He lets out a sigh. This is the worst.

“Logan.”

Logan? Does Logan even know you? Do you even know Logan? Lando starts to wonder if he ever saw the two of you talking. Would you say yes to Logan if he asks you on a date? Fuck. Why didn’t he thought about this before. Of course there’s someone interested in you. 

“Do they even know each other?” Lando sneers. He can’t help himself.

“Kinda,” Oscar shrugs, “they talked a couple races ago when Logan DNF’ed. She made him feel a lot better about it.” 

“Fuck,” Lando sighs. He can’t hold the words back anymore. “Fuuck.”

Oscar laughs. “That says enough, don’t you think?” 

“No,” Lando quickly mutters, “I mean if he wants to he should, you know. It’s up to Y/N what she says.”

This time it’s Oscar who lets out a sigh. “Lando just be honest, you like her so you don’t want anyone else to date her. Why aren’t you telling her that?”

Lando doesn’t answer to that question. He wachtes you dance and sip from your drink. When he watches the people around you, it’s not surprising to him how many guys are doing the same as him. Watching you. He’s quick to realize that Logan, or Pedro, aren’t the problem. There’s always someone who would want to date you. The problem is always that you aren’t his. How is he ever going to fix this mess? What if you meet someone who you want to date? Someone who can offer you anything you want? Like being always there for you instead of needing you to travel across the world with them? What if he loses you want you start to date someone else? Lando can’t stand by the sidelines while watching you have a relationship with someone else. Right? He would lose his mind. 

It doesn’t even surprise Lando when he sees Logan coming closer to you. He sighs. It’s pretty normal that after a race a lot of the drivers are clubbing, so he isn’t surprised that Logan is her as well. But still, it stings. It’s stings even more when you greet Logan with a hug before talking to him full with enthusiasm. He wachtes away. He can’t see this. 

“You’re an idiot,” Oscar sighs when he notices the way Lando looks away from you for the first time that evening.

“I know,” Lando mutters, “and you don’t even know the worst parts.”

“Worst parts?” Oscar asks curiously. 

Lando knows that everything that’s happening between you two is a secret, but he also knows that Oscar will keep it that way. Right now he really can use some advise from someone. Oscar can probably give him some, he even has a great relationship. Lando stops questioning it and starts to confess to Oscar. This must be because of the alcohol, otherwise he would have thought about it longer.

“The short version is that we’re fucking,” Lando confesses, “or not really fucking, but doing a lot of other sexual stuff. Probably fucking soon.”

Oscar almost drops his drink. Then he lets out a loud laugh. “And you’re still doubting if she wants you?” He asks. “Fuck man, you’re stupid. Why would she do those things with you without being interested into you?”

“Because she wants sexual experience,” Lando explains.

“But still, why with you? There were probably enough others who wanted to help.”

“I offered,” Lando states.

“Same question, why did she chose you?” 

Lando doesn’t reply at first. He watches Logan and you again. The two of you are dancing. Logan looks if he tries to get as close to you as he can manage. Fuck, that should be him. Lando curses himself, he should have make sure that he was on the dance floor with you. Embarrassing himself, but having fun with you. 

“I don’t know why with me, probably because I offered and she didn’t have to contact others to ask. She’s embarrassed about her experience, so she probably wants to keep it a secret,” he explains to Oscar.

“Lando she won’t be doing this with you if there wasn’t some sort of interest,” Oscar quickly states.

Lando just shakes his head to disagree. He focuses on Logan and you again. There’s still a lot of dancing happening and it’s getting more closer with the second. He can’t watch this anymore. Without saying anything else to Oscar he starts to walk towards Logan and you. He hasn’t even a plan, but he needs to do something abut this. Oscar lets out a laugh when he notices the way Lando is walking towards you. He didn’t tell his teammate that he told Logan before that it would be dumb to ask you onto a date, since you’re too close with Lando. Oscar believes that Lando needs a push and this could be exactly the push Lando would have needed. And who is he to not give his teammate that much needed push?

It doesn’t take Lando long before he stands in front of you. You stop dancing to focus on him. What’s Lando doing? Logan also stops dancing and wait for what’s going to happen. Oscar already warned him for this, but he still wanted to try. “Can we go back to the hotel?” Lando asks you. 

He notices that Logan takes a bit more distance from you. Something he’s glad abut. You look worried at Lando. 

“Back to the hotel?” You ask him, “What’s going on?”

“I’m not feeling well,” Lando lies. Although he doesn’t feel well, but that can be easily fixed if every guy would leave you alone. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him worried. 

“Just a bit too much alcohol,” Lando continues to lie. He can’t confess that he isn’t feeling well because of the attention every boy is giving you tonight. You send Lando another worried look and get closer to him. 

“Let’s go back to the hotel then,” you tell Lando. 

“Sorry if I’m ruining your night right now,” Lando says apologetic. He almost feels ashamed of himself for acting like this, but he can’t help it. He needs you for himself right now. He wants nothing more then to lay in bed with you right now and to cuddle up against you, instead of worrying about every guy around you. 

“It’s fine Lan,” you quickly say. 

Then Logan starts to meddle in the conversation. He sounds a bit unsure when he talks, a bit nervous even, “I can also bring you back to the hotel?” He suggests, “If you want to stay longer of course.”

“That’s really sweet of you Logan,” you say. Before you can say anything else Lando is talking as well. He feels himself getting more frustrated. Who does Logan think he is by suggesting this? He doesn’t even think about his next actions. He just acts. Word are quickly leaving his mouth. 

“We share the room and I only have one pass,” he states with a harsh undertone in his voice, “so you can’t.”

You look confused at Lando. Why is he acting like this? Doesn’t he notice that Logan is trying to help? Why is he this rude? Since when can Lando even act like this? You don’t know this side of him. 

“Oh sorry I didn’t know,” Logan quickly says, “I just wanted to help.”

You feel ashamed when Lando continues to talk. “That’s unnecessary,” he states. You quickly take a step closer to Logan, you don’t realize that it causes you to stand in front of Lando while doing so. Lando on the other hand is quick to notice. 

“It’s really sweet of you Logan,” you say, “but I’ll get back with Lando. Enjoy the rest of your night.” To give your words a bit more power, you give Logan a quick hug. When Lando sees your action he almost loses his mind. He feels like the most childish person when he grabs your hand and drags you away with him. He doesn’t take the time to say goodbye to anyone, he just needs to get you into the car with him. When he is outside the club, he starts to feel more ashamed for his actions. He barely dares to look at you. What are you thinking about him right now? You are probably really annoyed with him. And he gets it.

“What’s wrong with you Lan?” You ask confused, Lando is just happy that you still use the nickname for him. “Logan only tried to help.”

Lando doesn’t reply at first. He lets out a small scoff. Of course you’re dragging Logan into this as well. 

“You acted really rude,” you tell him annoyed.

“Of course side with Logan,” Lando sighs, “give me an even bigger headache right now.”

You let out a sigh. “You’re acting crazy,” you state frustrated. 

Lando doesn’t reply anymore. He’s glad when the taxi is standing in front of him. He opens your car door and walks towards the other side to take place himself. He knows that you’re right, but he really doesn’t want to confess that right now. Unsure he grabs your hand and interlaces his fingers with yours. He smiles when he notices that you aren’t pulling away from him, but even give him a small squeeze. 

After a short taxi ride, Lando and you are quick to find your way back into the hotel. When standing in the room, you change your outfit. The dress from before quickly lands onto the floor and is replaced by a shirt from Lando. Lando can only focus on you walking around in his shirt with only a thong underneath. He wants nothing more then to hold you right now. Maybe remind you of your earlier promise, he still has an awful hard dick that can use some help. 

You on the other hand are thinking about other things. One of them being Logan. “You should apologize to Logan,” you softly tell Lando after a comfortable silence, “He only tried to help us.”

“He tried to get in your pants,” Lando scoffs annoyed. The frustrated feeling of before is coming back rather quickly. Why are you starting about Logan again? He wonders if you really don’t realize that Logan only wanted to bring you back to the hotel so he could get more from you? 

“Lan,” you sigh annoyed, “now you’re just exaggerating.”

“I’m not,” Lando quickly replies.

You let out a big sigh and take a seat onto the bed. Lando is already laying in it. “You are,” you tell him while sending you an angry glance, “not everyone who’s nice to me is trying to get in my pants.”

“But he was,” Lando exclaims with a raised voice. 

“Why?” You ask.

“Because Oscar told me he wants to date you,” Lando confesses.

“So?” You ask, “That doesn’t mean he wants to fuck me.”

“Y/N,” Lando sighs, “just believe me on this one.”

“Even if he is, why do you care?” You eventually ask Lando, you’re done with this conversation but it doesn’t seem to be even close to ending. You can’t help yourself from questioning it. Why does it seem like Lando cares this much about Logan wanting to date you and maybe wanting to have sex with you? It gives you a tiny bit of hope that Lando might return your feelings. Could that be possible? Is he just acting jealous? It almost seems so. 

“I uh,” Lando stutters a bit, he doesn’t know what to say. “I uh, I just want to be sure that your first is with someone who cares about you,” he says after a bit of stuttering. That is a good reason, right? 

“Are you afraid you won’t be my first anymore?” You ask Lando confused. 

Lando doesn’t know what to answer. He realizes that you’re right. He is afraid that things will change and that you don’t want - and need - him anymore. He really wants to be your first. “Maybe,” he confesses eventually. 

“Don’t,” you tell Lando. 

“Don’t?” He asks confused.

“You’ll still be my first,” you tell Lando, “I trust you and I want it to be with you. But..”

“But?” Lando asks. 

“But you still need to apologize to Logan, otherwise I will find someone else,” you joke.

“Fucking hell,” Lando mutters annoyed. He grabs his phone from his nightstand. You lay down on the bed next to him in the mean time. You get yourself close to Lando, you lay your head on his chest. Lando plays with your hair while scrolling in his phone, you watch the screen with him. You see Lando searching for Logan’s contact. When he finds him, he’s quick to type a message. 

Lando: Hey Logan. Sorry for my behavior tonight. It was rude, I understand now that you were only trying to help. Sorry.

You smile when Lando hits send. What the both of you don’t know is that Logan and Oscar are reading the message right now together. “I told you so,” Oscar tells Logan, “She has him all wrapped around her finger.”

When Lando puts his phone away, he is quick to focus his attention back on you. He doesn’t have to do anything to get your attention as well. You’re quick to move closer to him and press your lips onto his. The kiss was meant innocent, but Lando is quick to turn it into a make out session. 

“Fuck babygirl,” he mutters, “I’ve been so fucking turned on the whole night because of you.” 

You look at Lando. All the annoyed, mad feelings from before have melted away like snow for the sun. He grabs you and moves you on top of him. When you’re sitting on his lip, you feel his boner pressing on your body. 

“Can’t get the taste of you out if my system,” he continues to say, “Have been thinking about all the things you can do to me all night. All the ways you can make me cum. Fuck.”

You grind your ass on Lando his lap. “You like that don’t you?” Lando asks you, “When I talk dirty to you.” You show him a nod. “My dirty girl,” Lando continues to speak. His words cause you to grind on his crotch again. You feel the pressure from his boner sliding on your pussy. Fuck that feels good. 

“I need you to do something about it,” Lando groans when you take his boner into your hands. You won’t let him say that twice to you. Without giving it a second thought, you unclasp Lando his belt. Within seconds you pull down his pants and boxers. His boner springs free. When you take his boner into your hand and slowly stroke it. Your small movements cause Lando to let out a soft relieved moan. 

You try to remember what Lando likes. After a few firm strokes, you move down your head towards Lando his member. You place a few small licks around the top, making it wet. After that you carefully take his boner in your mouth. Slowly bobbing your head while sucking harshly on it. You use one of your hands to stroke the bit of his dick that doesn’t fit in your mouth. 

Lando sees the way you subtle move your head a couple times to remove the hair from coming in your sight. He lets out a low chuckle. Then he grabs your hair with one of his hands. Pulling it behind your head in a ponytail and keeping it in his hand like that. You increase your pace a bit. 

“Babygirl,” Lando suddenly says, “I’m going to give you a pace, but if it’s not okay you need to let me know. Okay?”

You remove your mouth from his boner only to tell Lando yes. When your mouth is back around his dick, Lando firms his grip on your hair. Slowly he shows you what he means. He softly pushes and pulls to make you get on his pace. He lets out a loud moan. “Fucking hell baby.”

Slowly you use your other hand to explore Lando his dick a bit more. Eventually you let your hand find Lando his balls. You use your finger to trace over them. For Lando this is a bit new as well, he always knew it would feel good but former girlfriends weren’t interested in it. He loves the way you doing things like this out of yourself. He doesn’t need to ask, you just explore the exact same things as he wants. When he feels your hand form around his balls and softly squeeze them, he lets out the hardest moan so far. It feels insanely good. 

You continue doing the same over again. It doesn’t take Lando long before he feels his balls getting a bit more tight. He lets out multiple moans before one hard grunts leaves his lips. It says enough to you. Lando his grip on your hair loses. A salty taste enters your mouth. You swallow it before sucking slowly until Lando is completely empty. 

“You’re the best,” Lando eventually says to you. You show him a smile. Lando pulls you close to himself, causing you to land on his chest with your body again. He plays with your hair. “Don’t give me that innocent look,” Lando says with a small smile, “because I know for sure that you’re not that innocent.” You show him a smile again, not knowing what to reply.

“I can’t wait to find out how you feel around my cock,” Lando tells you. 

“I’m ready for that,” you tell Lando shyly, “Maybe we can do that soon?”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

Then Lando realizes that he has no idea what will happen after that. Will this thing between you two end when Lando takes your virginity? He realizes that he needs to think about that and talk to you about it. But for now he focuses his attention onto you again. He presses a soft kiss against your forehead.

part seven

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia@swiftiedrafts @thatchickwiththecamera @formulas-bitch @venisvendetta @t3a-3njoy3r @landowecanbewc

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #ln4 #formula one #lando norris imagine #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut #formula one smut

[csuitebitches]

Things I Have to do for My Sanity

1. Wake up at the first alarm - no snoozing and no going lying around in bed. Getting up straight away and head to the bathroom. It’s going to suck initially but you’ll get used to it in a few days.

2. Mental self care: 30 minute meditation, brain games mental math, reading, news. Knowledge is sexy and don’t deny yourself sexiness.

3. Daily review in my diary at the beginning and end of my day: what went well, what didn’t, what I need to accomplish to achieve my goals. This has tremendously helped my goals and keeping my motivation more consistent, especially at work. Analysing and correcting incremental changes creates long term success.

4. Cleaning up before bed - clothes, shoes, organising my bag, etc. I set a timer for 5 minutes and try to get as much done as possible.

5. Pick out my clothes the night before and steam iron them for the next day.

6. Face masks twice a week, a hair mask once a week, I scrub the soles of my feet with that foot scrubbing thingy once a week. Manicures every month because my nail beds are too sensitive to do it biweekly, iron supplements so that I’m not a moody bitch. Matching underwear to feel good about myself. Lavender spray on my pillow before sleeping so that I don’t get weird dreams.

7. Reading biographies and autobiographies. My mentor had suggested this to me and it’s amazing how literally I don’t have a single original experience - everything I’ve felt or mistakes I’ve made have already been done by someone else.

I’m going to curate a list of business books that I feel that have helped me the most recently.

8. I write a short essay everyday in the language I’m currently learning. I also end my day by talking about my day for at least 2 minutes in that language and I record it in voice memos to keep a track of my progress. I want to be fluent to a level where I can think in this language.

✨

I don’t generally share a lot about my personal life - none of you know my name or where I’m based and I feel comfortable doing that. But I do want to start giving out more insights to what I’m doing personally in my career - the good, the bad, the ugly.

Being self aware and honest to myself has helped me improve a lot. I know that shame is my Achilles heel, so now I’m reading books to combat that. I’ve caved in and decided to try therapy for a bit to see if what I’m doing is useful or not. My first session is tomorrow. Staying disciplined was my initial hurdle but the systems I’ve set (waking up early + habit stacking) have helped me slowly overcome that.

Work side, I’ve started establishing myself publicly more. I don’t want to reveal too much about what I do exactly but the good news is that our biggest competitor has noticed my progress (a former employee of that company came to us for an interview and directly asked our top management about me). It’s been 4 months that I’ve been working here but I know that next year I really have to swing the bat and hit a home run. I’ve decided to work on the field more and less in the office to really understand people’s needs and create unique solutions.

The daily/weekly/quarterly diary is definitely credited to my recent wins. That’s the biggest change I’ve made in my routine and i can already see that it’s working well. I’m going to continue refining and implementing that method.

Recent work methods I’ve decided to start working on (I’m not required to do these but I do it for my growth):

1. I’ve started studying popular companies’ business and revenue models in detail. Everything is adoptable and adaptable, you just have to figure out how to tweak something for your company’s clients and needs. Now I’ve decided that I want to keep a track of our competitors, their business models, their owners names, pricing strategy, their target audience etc etc on an excel sheet so that I’m aware with what’s happening in the market. 

2. I’ve started making client profiles. Every time I meet a client, I note down their name, the company name, what they were like, anything specific they seemed to like or want, how much they had paid us for a service, what their paying capacity could be, etc. 

#c suite #powerful woman #strong women #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #that girl #productivity #getting your life together #balance #to do #to do list

[justwonder113]

Sharing a bed with Channie

Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: Chan is your rock, your guide your everything. He was also the the only person you could go to when you couldn't sleep. Warning: CURSING- I literally have no shame; GN reader, reader can't sleep. I Know I said it would be like one bed trope series but I feel like it isn't fully it? Like they lay in one bed for 5 minutes before point is shifted? Playful banter between friednds, Chan and reader are best friends and roommates. fluff, friends to lovers. Not proofread. Mention of burying yourself alive? A/N- I know I announced that I would write this eons ago but it took me more time thatn I thought it would. I had a clear vision but while writing this I changed everything like at least 5 times. I really hope you'll like it. Thank you for all the love and support you have given me. It means the world to me. Please share your thoughts with me and reblog. Also if you have any type of request please I'll be more than glad to write it. Word count-

You were going to do this! You were not going to back down. You were not a coward! What could happen? The worst thing he could say was no. Big thing! You knew how to take no as an answer... No you didn't.. You would most probably die of shame if he said no. He wouldn't right? No, he is much too kind to deny you of such simple thing. But what if you made him feel uncomfortable? You would rather chew off your own foot than make him do something that makes him uncomfortable or make him uncomfortable yourself. He would tell you if he didn't want it right? You were friends. Quite close ones too. God you were friends! Of course he would find it weird that you wanted to sleep in the same bed. You had nothing explisit in mind tho. You just wanted to sleep next to him. You had trouble sleeping these days and it was starting to affect your everyday life, You were more groggy, more irritable, your head was in the clouds and you couldn't fully concentrate on anything. You tried everything to fix your sleeping schedule but nothing really worked. To say that you were despterate would be an understatement.

For the past 2 weeks the only time you slept peacefully and didn't wake up feeling like shit was when you and Chan fell asleep watching tv. It was the best sleep you had in a while, you woke up feeling like a new person. You were hopeful that you wouldn't experience trouble sleeping like that ever again but sadly nothing had really changed.

You couldn't help but sigh when you saw that it was almost 3 am. You had to get up early too and you had to be on top too. You were going to do it!

You got up from the bed, but before leaving the room you turned back and headed to the mirror. After making sure you were decent at least fifteen times you finally left the room. If it was any other of your friends you wouldn't even thing twice before heading to them, but this was Channie, your channie, the guy you had been hopelessly in love with since forever, but also a guy who only saw you as a friend.

You've read countless times that whenever a person came to their crush with the excuse that they couldn't sleep and/ or had a nightmare(in your case both) their crush always welcomed them with open arms. And they always ended up together after sharing a bed. If there was a fanfiction god you prayed things would go well or you would bury yourself alive and at least that would solve your sleep issues.

You were surprised to see that the lights in his room were on. Was he still working? You had to scold him later, he promised that he wouldn't work until late and would actually try and sleep.

You softly knocked on the door, but there was no answer. After a few seconds you knocked again, but also no answer. Maybe he fell asleep you thought. Feeling bad waking him up you felt bad you turned back to return to your room.

To say that you almost had a heart attack when you saw a dark figure looming behind you would be a severe understantment. You even fell back on your butt. Chan's gasp of your name made you realize it was him, he even tried to catch you but couldn't hold onto you on time.

"Oh my god are you okay?" Chan crouched down next to you, he held your face and carefully examined you while you tried to catch your breathe.

"I think I saw god for a second." You gasped out after a few seconds of gasping dramatically. Chan rolled his eyes at you before asking "What were you doing in front of my room?"

You stumbled for a second trying to find a perfect answer. While staring into his eyes all your courage from earlier had disappeared, you felt embarrassed about what you wanted to ask him. Also the fact that he was only in his pyjama pants didn't help at all. Like you also needed to be distracted by his Greek God body! "I wanted to get water and saw that the lights in your room were on." You couldn't be more obvious you were lying but you still hoped he wouldn't pry. Chan looked at you sternly before sighing. "You couldn't sleep?" You wanted to deny but the way Chan was looking at you, you couldn't lie. You could only nod, feeling disappointed in yourself. Chan looked at you for a second before grabbing your hand and leading you into his bedroom.

"What are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask, when he literally just casually picked you up and put you in the middle of the bed like a pretty decoration on top of a cake. He only told you to stay put and then left the room. You were baffled. You stayed put and only waited for him who quickly returned couple of minutes later with your pillow and the plushie he won for you when you were at the arcade. He instructed to you to get comfortable under the covers and then left again. He took a bit longer this time, but in a minute or two he was back with the cup of tea. Literally how could you not love him? He was so sweet and gentle with you. He really was the most beautiful person to walk this earth both body and soul. You were so touched by this that you forgot all your bashfullness? You leaned in and kissed his cheek. And the bashful smile he gave you?! The butterflies in your stomach were having a french revoluiton.

After you drank your tea, Chan took the glass from you and put it on his nightstang. "Are you comfortable like this? I can go back in my room." You couldn't help but ask. You felt shy laying on his bed next to him. Chan rolled his eyes and got under the cover. You two were so close you could feel his body heat without even touching him.

"I was the one who bought you here so stop overthinking and go to sleep!" Chan grumbled before wrapping his hand around your waist and bringing you closer to his body. You were chest to chest now and your heart was beating so strongly you were worried he would feel it. You looked up at him with wide eyes. "Christopher Bang Chan! What is this behaviour? What did you do to my shy best friend?" Chan smiled, "when was I ever shy?" Now it was your turn to smile mischeviously, "you're right you always were a little shit." Chan pinched your side making you yelp, you couldn't help but laugh at his distaste. "You're a menace." His voice was low, making you shiver. "Learned it from the best." You quipped quickly.

"Brat."

"You love me."

Chan waited for a second before leaning in and kissing the tip of your nose before muttering, "You're right, I do."

You started at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything. Your cheeks felt really hot. "What's with the heart fluttering shit you do? Be carefull Christopher or I might fall for you. What are you going to say about that?" Not going to lie you were dying inside wanting to know what would Chan say. Chan opened one eye to look at you and then closed it. You thought that he would ignore you, he cradled you closer to his body. Your face was against the crook of his neck. You felt like you could melt. You felt so warm and secure,the smell of his shower gel and the musky scent of his body really soothed you, you could even feel his carotid pulse. It was comforting his pulse was almost as fast as yours. Maybe you were deluding yourself but what if he felt the same?

The sound of Chans voice bought you down to reality." I would say it's about time, I've been flirting with you for ages!" What the actual fuck? You immediately jumped up and looked at Chan with the most shocked face ever. He's being doing what now?

"You've been flirting with me?" You needed him to say it again. You needed the clarification!

Chan opened his eyes and leaned up, you tried to read his expression but you got nothing. "Yes? Since forever? I'm surprised you hadn't realized."

"You like me?" You couldn't believe your ears.

"Yes? Why are you so shocked?" He sounded genuinely confused.

"Because I thought you only saw me as a friend and well you do have a flirty personality." -You tried to explain, Chris sighed and fully leaned up. He looked at you for a second before putting his hand on your neck and pulling you towards him. You thought he was going to kiss you and your heart basically did a backflip on top of running 500 kilometers per hour, but instead of kissing you on lips he softly kissed your forehead. When you opened your eyes whitch you hadn't even realized you had closed, you saw that he was looking and you with the softest gaze ever. You couldn't put it to words but it was type of expression that even if you didn't like him you would fall for him head over heels without a doubt.

"First of all you're literally the hottest person ever with even better personality. I would be a fool to not fall in love with you. So trust me my flirting was genuine. Now the second, you always flirted back, you weren't being genuine?" His question bought you aback and you started stammering for an answer but you stopped when you heard him chucke. "Okay okay I'm just teasing. I know you were being sincere. And I'm also aware you have a crush on me. It's cute actually. " His eyes twinkled with mischief as he teased you. You didn't know if you wanted to hit him or kiss him sensless.

"I hate you so much sometimes." You couldn't help but groan. You were feeling beyond embarrassed, both because you knew that he liked you back and because he had known you liked him. What an asshole why did it take him this long to say anything? Chan leaned in and placed another peck on your cheek, making you sigh quietly. "Your raging crush on me says otherwise."

"Oh shut up!" You did smack him on the arm this time. Chan's cuckle filled the room and you couldn't help but also laugh. You felt like a lovesick teenager but you didn't really mind it. Chan's one hand was still on your neck rubbing the thumb mindlessly along your skin, his warm hand not failing to send shiver aftee shiver down your spine, while his other hand was on your waist keeping you close to him. He acted like the thought for a second before muttering "Good idea." And leaning towards you, your lips so close they slightly grazed each other with each breath.

"Can I kiss you?" God were you dreaming? You even pinched yourself and you were awake! Fanfiction God really did exist apparently. You would have to thank them later.

Much to your dismay after kissing each other for so long that your lips were already starting to buzz Chan decieed to lean back. You chased after his lips, you didn't care that your lips were buzzing, you felt like you could kiss him until your lips fell off. You felt like you had been deprived of him all your life and you felt greedy now once you got the taste of him.

You nodded eagerly, making Chan's smile deepen. And he closed the distance. Chan, your lovely Channie, your best friend and closest companion, the guy you could trust with your life and your longtime crush was kissing you. And it felt beyond majestic. It was everything you had imagined and so much more! His lips were so soft, so warm and felt so nice against yours. Your whole body was like set ablaze and despite feeling so so many times today you felt like melting, like your bones were liquifying. Only he could make you feel that way. So confused and so hopelessly in love. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, Chris mirrored it and soon you were full on chuckling between giving each other short pecks. You love how lighthearted and fun everything was with Chris but also very deep and meaningful and how he always made you feel so secure. Really, how could you not love him?

Chan smiled and gave you a short peck. Then he brought you closed to his body and hugged you. "I really like you, heck I might even love you, this might sound cheesy and I know your menace butt is going to tease me after this but be mine?"

What a dork. You hugged him closer and kissed his neck. "I think I also love you too. And I will tease you about it most definitely, but yes, I will be yours." Chan smiled with his pretty dimples fully on display, he kissed your forehead and then helped you get comfortable on his bed. You felt so calm and peaceful despite your heart still running like crazy, you could feel the sleep approaching. Oh yeah you had insomnia, how funny.

A/N- I really hope you liked it, I will fix mistakes later my eyes are burning at this point. Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading❤️

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