#for me: rain !! and a dropping lilac tree

[sixosix]

Eee happy early birthday🎉🎊❤ As a fellow Xiao xiao lover I must request him. For his prompt, Xiao, sappy fluff and journal. 💕💕💕 -Sarah

a/n wc 1.1k! hi thank u so much! :D and ty for requesting xiao… the moml(main of my life)

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

During your travels with him, Xiao frequently observed you gathering every flower in sight. It didn’t strike him as odd; other mortals liked doing strange, mundane activities he could never understand the point of. Whenever he sees you crouching and plucking a Silk Flower, he moves forward and knows you’ll catch up to him eventually. It was none of his business—he didn’t want you to stop if he pointed it out.

But today, it was raining hard. Branches swayed, leaves were ripped off their stems, and the wind whipped around dangerously. One misstep could lead to slipping and a nasty bruise.

He rushed you inside the nearest cave. You pair were stuck there for however-long, at least until the rain would stop. Thunderstorms didn’t bother him, but they would make you cold, and he was pained at the thought of you shivering uncomfortably. You and Xiao sat by the far corner of the cave, furthest from the entrance and the drops of freezing water. Could he try taking you with him if he materialized into Wangshu Inn? He didn’t want to risk it—it was too far, and he hadn’t tried taking anyone with him at such a distance before.

He felt his protective instincts flared when you shuddered against his side. Xiao’s chin brushed against the top of your head. “Y/N,” he said.

“I’m okay, Xiao. I promise!” You sneezed, then frowned at the gray sky. A leaf retaliated and flew into the cave, slapping you on the nose. Your face scrunched up as you peeled it off. “Ahh, I should’ve listened to you when you said it would rain!”

Xiao sighed. “It was my mistake to agree.”

“We’re both going to take responsibility, then.”

Xiao couldn’t ever say no anyway.

You pouted. Your lip was a little colored from the way you were biting it to hold in the shivering. “The day is almost ending, yet we’re stuck here! This is so unlucky…!”

“Did you want to collect your flowers?” he asked. The cave had some sprouting on its surface—Violetgrass rich in its lilac color—but it was too unsafe to try at the moment.

“My flowers?”

“You collect them when we travel.”

Your eyes brightened as you caught up. “Oh! Ah, yes, I do collect them sometimes!”

Xiao shifted, prepared to move. 

Your hand latched onto his wrist, lightning quick. He would’ve reacted badly if it had been anyone else—but it’s you. “Don’t leave me, though!” you exclaim, wide-eyed. “Just stay here, okay?”

“Ah…” Xiao, stunned and unsure of what to do with his hands, settled back to your side. “Okay.”

The rain stopped, but Xiao’s quick-as-a-woodpecker heartbeat didn’t.

“Are you experimenting with herbs?” Xiao asked.

You were startled from where you’d been walking ahead. You and Xiao fell asleep in the cave—mostly you, because Xiao was wide awake, gold eyes visible in the pitch-black darkness—and woke up to birds chirping and the beautiful sunset of Liyue spread over the grass smoothly. From when you’d woken up until Xiao gathered enough courage to ask, you haven’t spoken, most likely feeling the remnants of awkwardness from last night’s strangely intimate moment.

You blinked. “Ah…?”

“The flowers.”

“Oh!” You waved your hands rapidly. “No, nothing as good as that. I’m filling up a journal.”

“A journal,” Xiao repeated, unable to determine the relationship between a journal and the flowers.

“Mhm.” You bounded to the nearest tree and laid your bag on the protruding roots. “Come here, let me show you.”

It was bound by a loose string, bursting at the seams. Xiao carefully flipped through the thick pages, curiously taking in the dried flowers pressed against them. Some had no flowers but a strangely colored leaf or a detached feather.

But each entry had something in common—

Xiao took me to Qingyun Peak—it was breathtakingly beautiful. Everything was colored orange during the sunset. We soared up with the current and flew all the way to Juyeun Karst! You had taped Mint on the corner.

Xiao and I went to Mt. Lingmeng, and wow! It had these stone carvings spread throughout; I came across one and touched it when it shot me straight up the air! I felt so light; it was incredible. Xiao’s face when I disappeared from his view was funny, haha. He caught me when I landed. Two flowers, one on each side of the page, all dried up but still there.

—His name was in each one.

Xiao got severely injured when we ran into Fatui. I feel terrible. But he takes such good care of me. Nothing was attached to that page but dried blood on the parchment. Xiao remembered that day—you closed off and hid somewhere, guilty. You must have been writing.

“Your presence is never a burden. Never for me.” Xiao really says a lot of things. Does he even know what comes out of his mouth sometimes? There were just wet stains on the space after.

Xiao still couldn’t quite understand, but with the way you looked so hopeful gazing up at him… he thought he could at least understand that this journal was important to you. 

You didn’t have an entry from yesterday, which made sense: you barely got to do anything at all. Xiao decided he would make it up to you.

“Stay here and eat,” Xiao said and didn’t wait for an answer.

He returned a few minutes later, eyes narrowed and hands cupped by his chest.

Emboldened by his idea, Xiao eagerly awaited you to notice what was nestled in his palms—an offering. How strange—an Adeptus presenting a gift to a mortal, yet nothing else has ever felt as right.

You blinked curiously, mouth agape. And then laughed.

Xiao wilted. “Did I misunderstand?”

You scooped up the crystalfly and beamed at him, rivaling the beauty of the moonlight behind you. Xiao had to squint. “No, Xiao!” you said, delighted. “No, no. This is just—this is so sweet!”

Xiao clicked his tongue. “Is it really unlike me?”

“No, I’m sorry,” you laughed, moving closer until your noses brushed. Xiao sucked in a breath, looking anywhere else but the pure delight on your face, feeling a little too warm. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s a little funny, though. I was expecting flowers, too, but I guess you wouldn’t be conventional about this, either.”

“You like it,” Xiao said, though it was fumbling for assurance.

“Of course I do, Xiao! It’s from you, after all.”

He nodded, pleased. Xiao felt like he could slice Teyvat in half. 

His mind wandered to ways of enriching your collection. A chip of a hilichurl’s mask? Or a delicate slice of wood for every newfound tree? Perhaps blades of grass Xiao would gather as you rolled around on it? With every journey, your journal grew thick, yet Xiao remained the focal point of your entries—nothing else seemed as fitting.

#606: 5K EVENT #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao fluff #genshin impact fluff #xiao fic

[asoftepiloguemylove]

give me back my girlhood, it was mine first

unknown / @/apocryphics (on tumblr) / @/heartlikegold (on tumblr) / unknown / Ashe Vernon excerpt from Buried, "Not a Girl" / The Virgin Suicides (1999) dir. Sofia Coppola / unknown / Serge Ivanoff / Sally Wen Mao excerpt from Drop-kick Aria, "Mad Honey Symposium"

i. unknown

[ "A girl in the shape of a monster / A monster in the shape of a girl" ]

ii. @/apocryphics

[ Screenshot of a tumblr post by @/apocryphics. "girls will carry unimaginable primordial rage but still go about their day as if nothing is wrong and that is very sexy of us I think" ]

iii. @/heartlikegold

[ Screenshot of a tumblr post by @/heartlikegold. " 'girlhood rots between my teeth, a sickness so sweet it aches' / - SUGAR, SPICE & EVERYTHING NICE // d.s" ]

iv. unknown

[ Painting of a young girl in the process of braiding her blonde hair. She looks away from the viewer towards the right as she braids her hair towards the audience. ]

v. Ashe Vernon, Buried

[ "Isn't all that rage so ugly? And isn't it mine, still? Good god, isn't it mine?" ]

vi. Sofia Coppola, The Virgin Suicides

[ Movie screencap of The Virgin Suicides. Hanna Hall (playing Cecilia Lisbon) las on a hospital bed wearing a blue gown. The subtitles read, "Obviously, doctor, you've never been a 13-year-old girl." ]

vii. unknown

[ "girlhood / 1. ripped stockings, smeared red lipstick, stolen lilac branches in our hands, scrapes from tree-climbing stinging our knees. a laughing moon to guide us home. the wild, wicked stars. the crimson fires of our heartbeats burning. so many secrets we keep like knives between our teeth. / 2. i'm made of fairydust and that moment of silence right before the thunderstruck sky breaks open with rain. i'm a breathing, bleeding body. i'm a breathing, bleeding soul. / 3. what prayers do we say when we think god isn't listening?" ]

viii. Serge Ivanoff

[ Cropped image of a painting by Serge Ivanoff . A woman stands in a room wearing a light pink dress. She folds her hands in front of her as she poses. ]

ix. Sally Wen Mao, Drop-kick Aria

[ Screenshot of a tumblr post by @/lifeinpoetry. "If i could do girlhood again, I'd ask / to be scarier. Less whimpering-more pyromanic / urges, more flirting with kerosene." ]

#poetry #poem #quote #words #writing #text #web weave #poetry web weave #on girlhood #on growing up #on trauma #on childhood #ashe vernon #buried #not a girl #the virgin suicides #sofia coppola #serge ivanoff #sally wen mao #drop-kick aria #mad honey symposium #spilled ink #dark academia poetry #dark academia #spilled thoughts #dark academia quote #spilled poetry

[tinyshe]

Garden Report 22.05.14

Keeping this short (ha!) instead of going back through my garden journal to give you an update on everything since I have been gone.

The weather is decidedly cool, at times cold (snow/hail) and very wet. The established plants like trees, vines, shrubs/bushes have responded with excessive and vigorous growth! Yes, I did fertilize/amend the soil with alfalfa pellets, urine laden / chicken droppings meadow grass mulch, kelp, glacier rock dust, worm castings from an elder and my worms compost but I think it is the constant rain-forest effect that is boosting their growing. But it also increases the slugs and rolypoly/wood lice/ sow bugs that are also very hungry! I keep putting out a few starts at a time and they are just mowed down!

The potatoes are doing excellent in top growth considering all the bad weather. I am hoping for a new potato crop end of June? Most of my starts have had to be potted up at least one step -- its just too wet and to pesty to plant out. Some are lingering outside in smaller containers because I can’t pot up and hold in the space I have -- not enough room. O! To have the summer house done!

Was gifted some lovely morels. The first batch are in the dehydrator. The second batch went to the straw bed in Africa because they came in late last night and by morning were maggot riddled. A hand full of muddy straw on each spent morel -- maybe some day there will be some morels in that patch! Been foraging for sorrel and dandelion greens in the garden. I say foraging because these never stay where I plant them -- they move to where they feel more comfortable. The weeds have also gotten out of control. When I get a little stronger, I plan on putting on knee pads and just crawl along chopping and dropping with my trusty hori hori as I crawl along.

I have been trying to gather flowers to dry for tea. I have a nice batch of lilac (two jars!). I would like more but with the rain -- it is highly unlikely. But I did get some calendula, pinks, viola, rose petals/flowers done. One jar of straight calendula petals was a nice addition to the pantry.

The hens are lovely ... lovely brats! They have decided its just too much effort to go dig for worms. They will march right into the house, into the kitchen where I am and demand their chips (meal worms). What cheeky little brats! And if they don’t find me in the kitchen, they stand in the mud room and cry as loudly as possible until I show up.

I will try to post some pictures later. I’m not back in full force. I hope everyone out there gardening is enjoying the time spent tending their little piece of eden.

#catholic gardener #garden #gardening #soil #soil amendment #Spring #flowers #tea #flower tea #tea making #mushrooms #pantry #plant starts #hens

[ccashleywrites]

The Grim, The Ghost and The Witch

One

It was starting to rain by the time I rolled up the circle drive to my new home; and I was just as awestruck by it as the first time I had seen a photo of it. The driveway was almost a mile long, and it was lined with weeping willows all the way up until the driveway opened to the small clearing the house was built in. Pulling around the circle the pavement is lined with a four more weeping willows placed at the compass points with large rosebushes in-between them, and in the center of the circle was a massive oak tree that towered over even the house.

The house itself was two stories with a balcony wrapping around to the sides of the second floor, and a wide staircase leading up to the large wraparound veranda set with several chairs, a small table and a porch swing. The balcony was held up by large gray pillars that reached down to the veranda and framing the corners of the house. The north and south sides of the house curved out into the shape of a spire that eagerly reached to skies with a single window on the front of each spire that overlooked the front yard.  On the first and second floors of the house the spires had bay windows that disappeared around the curve of the spire, and each floor had four windows on the front side of the house.

The stone foundation was gray, contrasting heavily with the deep black of the wooden paneling on the outside. Even the roof was pitch black and slanted into a sharp triangle that sliced against the gray skies- and I almost couldn’t take my eyes from the iron shapes decorating the edges of the roof and forming a protective barrier around the balcony with rounded tips to the delicate, intricate shapes of the fencing.

I was in love.

Throwing my car in the park, I eagerly turn off the ignition and jump out, my excitement carrying me up the front steps before I can stop myself. My hand goes out, brushing against the railing of the stairs before I wrap my arms around one of the pillars; smiling when my fingers just barely touch the other side. This was a home for so many generations, a place of shelter for lost souls- and it was mine now.

I walk around the veranda, gently touching the myriad of fauna placed around- lavender and lilac, mint and bay, narcissus and white roses, spider plants and large aloe vera. Hanging from the ceiling of the veranda were even healthy, long string-of-pearls and common ivy; and I could almost swear my heart swooned. This place was in such a great shape and the plants were all so healthy and vibrant- so obviously cared for by such a tender hand that I was almost moved to tears.

And then it was time.

With hands shaking from excitement, I pulled out the ring of keys the realtor had handed me just a few short hours ago, nearly dropping them as I fumbled for the door key. Seizing the old brass key in my hand I’m briefly overcome by a strange sensation- my body locking up as a whirlwind of sensations and sounds washes over me; shouting, laughing, screaming, sobbing- anger, pain, sorrow, melancholy, joy-

And then it’s gone, though autopilot takes over as I grip the matching old brass doorknob and slip the key into the waiting lock. It slips in so easily, as if being sucked in, and as the lock clicks and I swing the door open I’m overcome again- but this time not by just by sounds or sensations, but by the very brief image of a tall woman with a pinched face and a tight bun in a sweeping white gown; her voice raising into a sharp crow of irritation.

“Where have you been?!”

I jump at the sight, my skin crawling at the sound of her shrill voice- and it’s gone as soon as I blink. I blink again, rapidly while turning my head from side to side as I stand in the doorway. It takes me a moment to catch my breath and slow the rapid heaving of my chest.

I can’t remember the last time I saw a spirit so clearly. Or maybe it was an imprint of a memory?

The train of thought quickly derailed when my eyes finally focus on the sprawling foyer before me, and my heart flutters excitedly once more. There is a set of stairs to the right of the door leading to the second floor, which has a dark oak railing framing the second-floor balcony. Above me is a medium sized elegant black chandelier with candle-shaped bulbs in place of the candles that were once there. On the right side of the foyer is a small door that I assume lead to the coat closet, and just beyond the door was an entrance table where I was to place my belongings when returning from an outing. Just inside to the left of the door was a shoe rack, and I broke out in a smile at just how much had been saved from the original furniture.

Just a little way down the walls of the foyer were two sets of double doors set across from each other, and it was then that I started recognizing some of the original building the house had been converted from. Stepping through the doorway I pace quickly to the left set of doors first, my excitement carrying me forward once more. Swinging open the doors, I’m immediately breathless by the room before me- a parlor with a few chairs around the front windows and a couch and chair set facing the northern bay window.  Along the eastern wall of the room are several shelves with books, records and board games, and along the wall leading to the foyer is an old record player. On the west wall is a small flatscreen T.V. with a loveseat and coffee table in front of it- a weak and unnecessary attempt to modernize the room. There are more plants here too, many small succulents spread around the room and all just as vibrant as the plants outside.

Between the shelves and the north wall is another door, which I already know to be the sitting room, which I briefly peek into to see that it was thankfully left unfurnished as I had requested. While standing in the doorway plotting how I’ll decorate the wall-set shelves, I admire the two stained glass windows depicting angels descending to earth set on either side of the wide window that overlooks the backyard. Then, I see something black moving among the lush green bushes and bright rainbow array of flowers. It’s only for a second that I see it and then it’s gone, and I’m left shaking off the feeling of unease that had begun to gather inside me.

I head back to the foyer and cross over to the second set of double doors, entering a large dining room with a dark brown maple table and matching ornate chairs. Along the walls are several paintings of the forest that surround the house, and a few of woodland animals peeing from inside bushes or from behind trees. Something about the forest paintings sets my skin crawling again, though. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.

I hurry along the room to peek into the door at the end- this side of the first floor almost perfectly mirroring the north side in layout. Just inside the door is the kitchen- which is much larger than the sitting room and has several more stained-glass windows; these windows depict the birth, life and death of Christ, and I find myself a little smug that my hunch had been right when I had seen the photos of the house. The first floor was a repurposed church- and I would almost be willing to bet money that the foyer had been the fellowship hall. Glancing to the north side of the kitchen I can see another small door- one that I assume is the pantry- and on the south side there’s a large fridge at the end of the counters along the wall. Set in front of the stained-glass windows is an industrial sink and two stoves on either side of the sink with a counter in between the sink and stovetop.

With a fresh wave of excitement, I leave the kitchen. Rushing back through the dining room while actively ignoring the paintings, re-entering the foyer. I turn right this time, passing the stairs to approach the next set of doors at the back of the first floor. The double doors directly in front of me lead out to the patio and backyard, which I get a glimpse of through the windows both on the doors and on either side of the doors. Once again, I see something dark moving around among the bright colors of the fauna in the backyard, and when I blink it’s gone. Shaking off the unease that is once more building, I turn my attention back on exploring the house.

 To my right and my left are two more doors, and I check the right door first. Peeking my head in I find a small bathroom done in crème and brown with a toilet, sink and mirror and a small cabinet on the left side of the door. Leaving the bathroom, I turn to check the door across the hall, and find myself locked out. Confused, I pulled out the keyring and started trying keys, wondering why this room would be locked.  After trying five of the nine keys, I finally get the satisfying sound of the lock clicking open. Something tells me to keep the keys in my hand when I grab the doorknob, and a cold wind sweeps through the hallway. I look around, somewhat confused before my eyes land on the front door I had left open- Had I left it open? - and shrug off the chill that’s creeping up my spine. Turning the knob, I pull open the door, flinching back from the rush of cold, musty air.

Just beyond the doorframe are a set of stairs leading downwards into pitch black- I found the basement. But something stops me from stepping forward; a dark, slimy sensation crawls up my back and overtakes me, standing my hair on end. I can hear my breathing picking up, feel the racing thunderous beats of terror rushing through me as my pulse pounds in my ears like a warning.

And then the moaning starts.

It’s low at first, then it rapidly rises into a high-pitched scream that I can only call rage. It gets louder, seeming to rush towards me on a sudden gust of freezing, decayed air and my own fear gets the better of me.

I slammed the door shut with a scream, my fingers quickly finding the key once more and shoving it into the lock. Jerking the mechanism closed I yank the key from the handle and back away quickly, shaking like a wind-torn leaf as I do.

I don’t want to know that that was. I don’t want to see what’s down there- tornadoes aren’t common around this part of Oklahoma. I have no reason to go down there.

“You’re awfully frightful.”

I shriek, a shorter and more startled sound this time as I quickly turn to face whoever has spoken to me. Standing by the base of the staircase is a young girl in a white gown with bare toes poking out from underneath the hem. Her long dark hair pulled back from her thin face into a loose braid with little wisps of curls hovering around her face. She’s holding a worn teddy bear tightly to her chest, and her dark, sunken eyes study me with a mix of distrust and interest. I open my mouth to question her only to fall silent when the familiar meowing of my cat reaches my ears.

My gaze flicks to the floor where my black cat, Baba, is rubbing up against the girl’s leg. I find my voice then, looking back up into the girl’s dark eyes.

“Did you let her out?”

“It’s storming outside,” the girl shrugs, still clutching the bear as Baba continues to press affectionately against the child. “You left your car door open, and the front door, so I let her in away from the storm.”

“Who are you? Where are your parents?” The question comes out sharper than I meant it to, but the fear of almost losing my sweet old rescue made my tone angrier than normal.

“I don’t have parents.” She says it in a way that gives me the impression she won’t elaborate and ignores my first question entirely.

I pinch my nose then, sighing as I steady my breathing. Trying again, I ask in a gentler tone, “Who watches you? Where do you live?”

“My brother is the groundskeeper.”

Groundskeeper. That means she says in the cabin at the back of the property. “Does he know you’re here?”

“I’m always here. I’m not allowed to leave the property.”

Another matter-of-fact statement that leaves little room for more conversation. She seems like a good kid, but I find myself uneasy about her being here with no other adult supervision.

As if reading my mind, the girl says, “Damien always knows where I am. He doesn’t have to hover.”

She starts to walk past me then, and that’s when I notice the front door is closed now; along with realize the rain has begun pelting down on the house with a heavy beating sound. Unnerved that I had missed such a loud noise, I turned back to speak to the girl once more- but she’s gone.

I looked around frantically, there’s only two other doors past the stairs- and I heard neither one of them open nor close. I open the bathroom door first- empty. I turn to the double doors that lead into the backyard and walk up to open them and check outside- she shouldn’t be going out in such a heavy rain in just that gown and no shoes-

The back door is still locked.

#writeblr #writerblr #writing community #am writing #creative writing #horror fiction #horror story #paranormal #paranormal fiction #horror novel #chapter one #The Grim The Ghost and The Witch #Original story #TGTGTW #original characters #readerblr #readers of tumblr #ghost story #ghost fiction

[suckitsurveys]

What’s the last sweet treat you’ve had? I’m literally eating a kit-kat right now haha.  Would you ever or have you gone golfing? (mini golf counts) Yes, mini golf. Which reminds me, we still have a coupon for Top Golf we need to use, How about bowling? Yes. I like bowling. I haven’t been in ages.  

What’s something you’ve been wanting to try but don’t have the nerve or time? I don’t know.

Are you able to walk or jog more than 1 mile without stopping? Walk, yeah. 

Do you enjoy decorating your home for any occasion? Yeah. 

What did you last have to drink? Water.

What’s your favorite color in the rainbow? Blue and purple.

Do you tend to stumble over your words when you’re nervous? Yes.

Are you a fan of Ozzy Osborne? I don’t dislike him but I wouldn’t say I’m a “fan.”

Have you ever caught Covid-19? or any of the variants? As far as I know, no.  What color was the blanket that you last covered up with? AHAHHAHAHAHAAH I have a blanket on right now that my friend got for me for my birthday. It’s got pictures of Pete Davidson all over it ahahahahahaha. 

How long do you lay in bed until you get up if you can’t sleep? I don’t think I’d get up. I’d just play on my phone or something. 

What’s a dance move you can confidently do? I know a couple tik tok dances hahah.  Do you know a Lucy? Yes, I have a coworker is named Lucy. 

Do you ever listen to any A.M. radio stations? No.

Do you stream most of your music? Yes, on Spotify.

What is something you dread? Work.

Would you say you’re an overall nice person? Yes.

What was the last argument you got into about? Ugh.

When did it last rain? I don’t remember the exact day, but sometime recently. 

Do you use big words in your vocabulary? If I find it necessary. I HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE people who throw big words into normal fucking conversations.

Do you keep Christmas bags and old wrapping paper to reuse? Juts bags. 

What’s a charity you support strongly? National Network of Abortion Funds and the Petsmart charities. 

What’s the first flowers or trees you notice that bloom when it gets warmer? Lilacs and tulips. Have you ever accidentally punched yourself in the face while pulling your covers up? Yes.

How about dropping your phone on your face? Yeah.

Have you ever been in a mosh pit? A baby one haha. 

What’s one of your favorite TV shows? BoJack Horseman.

What are 3 words or phrases you use most often? I don’t know. Probably I don’t know, lol. When did you last trip or fall? I can’t remember. 

What type of pain pills do you use for a headache or do you just tough it out? Naproxen. I literally cannot wait out migraines because those can last for days. 

What did you last say out loud to a family member? "I love you” to my dad. 

Can you remember the last time you dressed up nice for an event? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I guess my sister’s birthday?

What did you last thank somebody for? My husband for getting me a kit kat lol.

Do you see any stuffed animals from where you are? I can see into our bedroom and there is a bat squishmallow on the bed.  Do you or anyone you know suffer from food allergies? Yeah, I know people who do. 

Look up from your device. how much black do you see? A lot. I see a buncha black hoodies on our coat rack, black shoes, black door to our bedroom, black TV and entertainment center, black 3d printer, mark’s computer set up is black, and a black cat laying on the floor. 

What color do you dislike the most? Eh.

Can you whistle good enough to get through a whole song? Yes.

What did you last tie a knot for? Uhhhhhh the ankle bracelet I’m wearing.

How many surveys have you taken so far today? This is my second. I might do one more before bed.

#surveys #at home

[writeaboutcomma]

write about what’s outside your window

#for me: rain !! and a dropping lilac tree #write about #writing prompt #writing #prompt

[softboyluvr]

just friends

cedric diggory x female!reader

warnings: angst (ish???), intentional lower caps, that’s all tbh

very few could say they knew someone for forever, someone that knew their weaknesses and helped turn them into strengths. though they, they were the lucky ones. or unlucky ones, depending on who you asked. cedric and her had been inseparable the moment their parents introduced them when they were children.

from then on she always had someone to pick her up when she fell off the swings, a shoulder to cry on and someone who listened unconditionally when it seemed like the voices drowned her. she was lucky to have him.

she brought out the best in him. everyone expected him to be everything all the time, but with her he could be vulnerable. he felt like he could breathe when she was near. he had to see her fall in love with some of the guys in the castle, and then be there for her when it all fell through. he was just never that lucky to have her. at least not completely, she had the best of his moments. when in fourth year his friends teased him for never having had his first kiss she was the one to pull him in by his jersey after winning the first game of the quidditch season, the light drizzle sticking to their hair and making the whole thing seem like a dream to him. she had his first dance at their first ever ball. and most of all she had his heart hanging off a thread on her pinky finger, yet he was never lucky enough to have her completely.

he was resigned actually, no longer eager for the next time she came running to his arms after she realized the last guy wasn’t what she wanted, much less deserved. an eagerness that he knew was wrong and completely selfish but he couldn’t seem to deny. he liked being the guy that lit her those vanilla candles she loved so much and held her through the night.

he didn’t know what deity he had to thank for putting them together in every single class for the past six years. but there he was, letting her draw some sort of happy face kaleidoscope on his hand as he just looked at her with some stupid grin he could never wipe off when they were together. looking at how the tip of her tongue stuck out in concentration and then down to the crystal hanging around her neck. remembering how one saturday she just dragged him to the lake to look for crystals. one of the last days of the summer, the morning sun keeping them warm but not sticky with sweat. the wildflowers around them made the air sweet and the soft swishing of the water in the river filled up their comfortable silence making everything perfect. if he were asked what he thought heaven was like he would think that’s the closest it could ever get. or maybe it was all perfect because he was with her.

he wasn’t surprised when she had to bring him back from his daze and put him to work on the potion slughorn had just spent the last 10 minutes explaining. he was eager to finish brewing the concoction, amortentia was one of their biggest projects of the year. but that was not what motivated him to finish it, neither was it finding out what he was going to smell. he knew exactly what his heart desired, and was not surprised when he smelled vanilla, soft rain and wildflowers. his eagerness was to discover what she was going to describe the potion to smell like. he hoped her heart’s deepest desires pointed towards him like a compass pointing north. he was about to ask when hermione granger, somehow managing to take classes above her level, turned around and asked herself.

he pretended to write some notes on his notebook when he was really waiting for anything that would hint at her fancying him the way he wished she would.

“we must’ve fucked it up because it smells like nothing” and she snorted like it was the funniest thing ever. their conversation carried but he was no longer interested on any sort of gossip the griffindoor carried. he knew the potion had worked, so either she was sick and her nose was all messed up or just didn’t fancy anyone at all. she could’ve also been lying, was it for his sake? did she just not want to share any more fragments of her love life with him and she decided to lie about this to keep some secrecy? was it someone he knew? was it one of their friends? had he introduced her to them?

class ended and the day flew by, whenever she asked about his change in demeanor he brushed her off with a smile and assured her it was all fine, “just tired ‘s all”

he wanted to go down to his room and read, alone, as soon as the school day was over. but he had promised to go with her to this tree they always hung out in when the day was nice. she was talking about things she had noticed throughout the day and when he zoned back into the conversation their tree was closer than he realized and she was talking about potions class.

“i swear i was keeping an eye out for you. i was worried you were sick because someone had slipped some amortentia on your water or something. i mean im surprised no one did” and she sat down leaning on the trunk of the tree. “anyways you never did tell me what it was your heart’s deepest desires were. or who is it that that is for that matter” she was taking some colored pencils out and it seemed like the whole thing was humorous to her. but the question had struck him, she was lying back in class.

she had taken his silence as a cue to keep her chatter going. not paying any mind to how he still hadn’t sat down. “i heard someone say how when slughorn showed the class below us the potion just as a heads up for next year cho chang said she swore she smelled you. i didnt know you guys were that close” and she wiggled her eyebrows at him while taking out some sketch book from her bag. she was really trying to joke with him right now. “she’s really pretty-“

but he cut her off. “why would you lie?”

“i swear! hermione told me all about it after i ran onto her in the bathroom before potions class started. i mean you have been tutoring her for a while now so i don’t know how you didn’t see it coming”

he was silent for a second and she grew uncomfortable of his gaze just lingering. standing up as he started again.

“we didn’t fuck up the bloody potion. but you told granger we did, why did you lie?”

she looked at him for a couple seconds and then laughed. “come on ced, slughorn said the thing was perfect. don’t worry about the grade”

“this is not about a mark and you know it” his tone was so serious it was bordering into stern. it was like his patience was growing thin but she didn’t know what to say, so she just shrugged and looked away.

“didn’t feel like talking about it then”

“we can talk about it now”

“it looks like there’s rain clouds coming”

“what are you trying to avoid?”

she just went to pick up her book, stuffing her things back into her bag. she started the walk back to the castle making him scoff and follow her lead.

“why don’t you want to talk to me?” to her he still sounded defensive. but he was trying his best to mask his vulnerability.

“i do want to talk to you ced. just not about it right now”

“was it someone i know? was it fred? i heard he’s with angelina so that’s a dead end you know”

“cedric just drop it”

“so it was him then”

she groaned and turned to look at him, breaking her stride. her face was burning with what he saw as anger.

“why does it matter so badly to you cedric?”

the thunder quickly ate up the good weather they still had and the air turned chilly. how fitting.

“it just does and i want to know”

“it really doesn’t matter to me and it shouldn’t to you either” she was upset about it, maybe her feelings for fred were far deeper than he could guess. he was aware of their friendship, but he never knew how close they had grown to be. maybe him being a tutor pushed her to finding someone new, some new more interesting friend. “i really don’t get why you’re blowing this to be such a big deal when cho-“

“it is a big deal to me” he chuckled and he saw the drizzle before he could feel it. “it’s a big deal to me when all i could smell on the thing was wildflowers and fresh rain” he let a breath out, his voice lowering back to its usual tone. no longer exasperated but tired. “fresh rain and vanilla”

she just stood there. quiet. looking at him. a couple steps and he had broken the distance between them. placing his hands on her shoulders and running them down to her hands.

“so please, just please tell me what it was for you”

“lilacs” she looked up at him and met his gaze. the flowers his mother had planted around the swing sets were lilacs, the flowers she tucked on his suit pocket on their first dance were lilacs. but he still couldn’t let his heart jump to conclusions. she took in the silence and looked forward, staring at his chest rather than looking at him in the eyes. the blow was coming. “warm sheets and fresh rain”

she smiled at the irony of the drizzle that covered her hair at the moment and dared to peek at him from under her lashes. he was puzzled by the last one. she kept looking down at his hands holding hers.

“that was my first kiss too you know, you never really asked and i guess i never told you. but i knew you were tired of everyone teasing you for it so i guessed you wouldn’t mind as long as you got it over with” she was rambling and he smiled. the rain coating her lashes reminded him of the first time, he let go of her hand and took her chin between his pointer and thumb. tilting her head up to look at him, moving his hand to run through her hair and finally cupping her face. running his thumb over her cheek. it was like he was getting a do over, and he wanted to take his time this time around. she looked into his eyes and then glanced down to his lips. he didn’t waste more time before his other hand flew to the free side of her face and his lips were on hers. her hands on his shoulders pulling him impossibly closer to her.

he cursed his lungs for preventing him from staying there, causing him to pull away slightly. she opened her eyes to see him looking at her already. he took in how the water droplets stuck to her hair and the smile that danced on her face.

her eyebrows shot up a little “took you long enough” her teasing smile made him let out a loud laugh.

he hummed and nodded. feigning seriousness “maybe” he looked at her with a teasing smile of his own. “but not nearly as long as it took you, now did it”

her eyebrows shot up and she let out a surprised laugh. he admired her for a second more before he leaned down to kiss her again. missing how she quickly ducked and escaped his grasp. starting to sprint through the grass towards the castle. he chased behind her as they both laughed at the water splashing around their feet and starting to soak them up slowly. she looked back at him and playfully screamed, booking it through the courtyard and slipping past the few people that were still out enjoying the soft rain.

their friends quickly spotted the pair, not surprised by their behavior but intrigued as to what had caused the giant to chase after her through the rain. watching as he was catching up to her when she had almost reached the group, which was seated waiting for them next to one of the arches surrounding the courtyard. staying safe from the rain under the roof. they all playfully looked at her catching her breath, not amused at all by their games when he reached her. hair sticking to his forehead and robes drenched just like hers. she yelped as he picked her up and spun her around, their friends getting ready to listen to whatever story was behind their chase.

the story telling itself when he set her down softly and pulled her in for a quick kiss. their bubble of happiness not popping but encasing all of their friends as well. no questions were needed, the happiness just flowed and bubbled.

he swung his arm over her shoulders. pulling her into his chest as she started the conversation back up. everything had fallen into place for him, and now he could light up candles and tuck her into bed not because she had another unlucky shot at love. but because he was finally lucky enough.

#cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory #cedric diggory fluff #cedric diggory angst #cedric diggory x female reader #cedric diggory imagine #friend to lovers

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Sundress Season

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.5k

Tags: Fluff, Domestic af, Hurt/Comfort, Nothing major the Reader got some scratches gardening and Frankie is Concerned, p in v sex, wrap it before you tap it, Size Kink, Sort Of, Exhibitionism, If You Squint, A little, Dirty Talk, mostly just tooth-rotting fluff (plus a little loving smut),Triple Frontier, Frankie “Catfish” Morales, Domestic, Gardening, Outdoor Sex, No Beta

Summary: You and Frankie have just moved into a farmhouse fixer upper and are enjoying the first warm day of spring. A lazy afternoon nap turns into something... more.

Read on Ao3

Leaning the shovel against the white picket fence, you stand back to take an appraising look at your handiwork, squinting against the midday sun. You’ve taken advantage of one of the first truly warm days of spring to plant some blackberry bushes along the boundary of your new home. Sweat slides down your spine and you can already feel a dull ache spreading through your calves and along your forearms, but you toss aside your leather work gloves with a grin, proud of your morning’s work. You brush your hair away from your face with the back of an arm, leaving a trace of dirt along your forehead. “Frankie, come look.”

“One sec.” His answer is muffled, even considering it’s coming from inside the old farmhouse the two of you have just moved into, and you realize he must still be working on the kitchen sink.

You enter the house, surprisingly cool and dim after the sunny warmth outside, and walk to the kitchen. Frankie’s legs jut out from beneath the sink, and all you can see of him are his work boots, khaki pants, and a glimpse of his soft stomach where the rusty red t-shirt he’s wearing has ridden up. You lean against a nearby counter, the smooth stone lip pressing into your lower back, and smile down fondly at him. “How’s the sink coming?”

The house is a dream come true for both of you, but it’s also needed a ton of work both inside and out. You’ve already sanded floors, patched up creaking stairs, painted most of the rooms, and ripped out overgrown hedges that had threatened to take over the yard. Once you’d cleared them out, the yard and gardens became an invitingly open canvas, just waiting for you to make your own.

The two of you had spent several late winter evenings curled up in front of the stone hearth, seed catalogs and plant nursery order slips laid out in front of you, arguing pleasantly over how to cram in every plant both of you want. You’re determined to line the yard with fruit trees and shrubs, while Frankie is surprisingly invested in the beds where he plans to cultivate tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, and a variety of herbs. At least you both agreed to leave the large, well-established lilac trees bookending the house, and you’re currently waiting to see who will win the bet about what color the sprawling, thorn-covered rose bushes will be. You’re hoping for a buttery yellow to complement the lilacs, while Frankie is holding out hope that they’ll be the same pale pink as the roses he’d brought you for one of your first dates.

This morning, just when the two of you had made plans to tackle some of the new plantings, the kitchen drain had backed up. You’d decided that job would be better handled by Frankie and headed out to start the landscaping yourself. “Almost there, I just need to…” Frankie’s deep in concentration, and you swear you can almost see him sticking the tip of his tongue out as he focuses. There’s a final sound of metal scraping against metal, followed by a victorious “ha! Try it now.”

“You sure? I don’t want to soak you.”

A muted huff echoes from the space below the sink. “What, you don’t trust me?”

“Ok,” you shrug. “Just don’t blame me if you get a faceful of water.” You turn the tap on slowly and watch as the water spirals easily down the drain. “Hey, you did it!”

Frankie braces a hand along the top of the cabinet and pulls himself to his feet. “Don’t sound so surprised,” he teases. “Told you I could do it.”

“My hero,” you say lightly, crossing the floor to kiss his smiling cheek. His scruff scrapes lightly against your face, and you find yourself lingering, especially when he captures your lips for a proper kiss. “Now I can wash some of this dirt off- I feel like I brought half the yard in.” After the hours you spent planting various shrubs and a few small fruit trees, your arms are streaked with dry soil.

“Here, let me help you.”

Frankie steps behind you, his broad form leaning against yours as you stand at the newly repaired sink. His thighs press lightly against your own as his arms encircle your waist. He leans his chin on your shoulder and his messy curls brush against your ear while he begins to run soap over your forearms. You laugh, his efforts mostly just splashing dirty water around, but the cool water is a welcome relief. “Frankie! I can do it myself.”

You can feel him smiling against your neck. “I know, I just- oh.” His voice turns suddenly soft, with a note of worry.

“What is it?”

“Baby, you hurt yourself.” He steps alongside you, examining the delicate skin of your inner arm with a concerned frown. “What happened?”

“What?” You look down and see a few thin, angry red lines streaking the length of your forearms. “Oh, it’s nothing. The blackberry branches were thorny, that’s all.” You’d been wearing one of Frankie’s flannels for a little extra protection, but it had grown too hot and you’d stripped down to just your t-shirt. “It’s fine, they’ll heal fast.”

Despite your reassurance, Frankie ducks into the bathroom while you pat your arms dry with a clean dish towel and comes back holding some ointment. “They’ll heal better with this.” He flips open the cap and looks up, seeking permission.

You nod, unwilling to deny him anything, especially with that melting brown gaze trained on you. It’s not necessary, but you have to admit- you love that he takes such good care of you. Frankie takes his time, gently stroking a dab of ointment over each small scratch. His light touch quickly takes the sting out of your small hurts, and when he’s finished you catch his hands, bring them up to your lips for a grateful kiss. You adore his hands- so much bigger than your own, strong and capable but still so deft. He ducks his head and smiles and your heart clenches with love for this quiet, loving man.

------- After changing out of your dirt-streaked jeans and into a clean sundress (which, of course, Frankie also offered to help with), you head back to the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge. The cold glass bottle begins beading almost at once, and you hold it against your slightly sunburnt neck. “I was going to go read in the yard for a bit, care to join me?”

“I’ve got a couple more things to finish up here, you go ahead.” Frankie drops a kiss to your temple as you pass, on your way to get a book and an old quilt to spread out on.

“Ok, see you in a bit.” The old screen door swings shut behind you, bouncing slightly before it catches the latch. A project for another day, you think. The two of you have already done plenty, and for now you just want to enjoy the rest of the sunny afternoon.

You spread your quilt out under a flowering magnolia tree which offers just the right amount of shade and lay down on your back. A light breeze stirs the green grass around you and sets the flowering tree branches swaying, a few pale pink petals raining down. Sunlight dapples your face as you relax, enjoying the surroundings of the garden you and Frankie are making together. The book is good, but you find yourself distracted, listening to nearby birdsong and watching billowing clouds scud across the bright blue sky. With the sun warm on your face, it’s not long before your eyelids are drooping.

-------

When you wake up, shadows are lengthening across the yard and Frankie is sprawled out next to you, having come out and dozed off at some point after you did. You lean into his shoulder, still warm from the heat of the sun, and smile against him. There’s a patch of skin just below his hairline and above his collar, and you lean in to kiss him just there. He tastes faintly of clean sweat and you press your tongue against him, seeking the slight taste of salt.

Frankie stirs and sleepily cracks one eye open. “Can I help you?” Try as he might to sound long-suffering, you suspect he enjoys your touch.

“Nope, I’m good.” You toss your book aside and drape yourself over his back, enjoying the slight movement below you as he shifts to accommodate you. It’s getting a little cooler now as the sun slips towards the horizon, but Frankie’s warm, solid presence grounds you. He tenses a little when you lean your head on his shoulder and you pull back at once. “Is your shoulder still bugging you?” He’d pulled it while you were moving and as hard as you try, you don’t always manage to wrest the heavier chores away from him, so it’s been a slow recovery process.

His answer rumbles quietly from below you. “A little. Working on the sink probably didn’t do it any favors.” You lean up at once, straddling his waist so you can massage his neck and shoulders. “Poor thing, you are tight here.”

He hums in agreement, though you can feel the tension begin to leak out of him as you knead his tense muscles. You work a stubborn knot, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder, and as he sighs you can feel him relax further.

You lean down once more, careful to put your weight on your hands, braced against the ground,  and drag your mouth lazily over his neck. Your seeking licks turning to more intent kisses and when your teeth close over his pulse point, Frankie lets out a low groan and bucks his hips. You feel the movement all through him, especially where you’re seated against his ass.

“You want me to stop?” You ask teasingly, getting the expected shake of his head in response. You grind slightly against him before returning to nose at his neck. By the time you trace the shell of his ear with your tongue and nip gently at the cartilage, Frankie has had enough.

He rolls the two of you over with a smooth motion that ends with you flat on your back, and him smiling above you. “Oh, are we done fooling around?” You look up playfully. “I can show you the blackberry bushes before-”

He stops your mouth with a kiss, nipping at your lower lip before licking his way into your mouth. Delight shivers through you and you deepen the kiss, your tongues tangling languidly. You run your hand through his tangled curls, scraping your nails against his scalp. This pulls a soft noise from low in Frankie’s throat as he leans into your touch. His nose brushes yours and he nudges your cheek, trails kisses down your jaw.

Heat is pooling low in your belly and you spread your legs to invite him closer. Frankie takes the hint, canting his hips to drag the growing bulge in his pants against your core while you push back into him. “We should head inside,” you gasp as he moves lower, sucking at the delicate skin of your neck.

“We can if you want, but who’s gonna see?” His large hands cup your breasts and he dips his head to brush kisses over their swells. You arch your back, desperate for his touch even as you look around cautiously. He has a point; there’s no neighbor on this side of the house, just a patch of woods, and you’re well back from the road.

“Good point.” You reach down to tug at the hem of his shirt. Grinning, he sits up for a moment to help you. As soon as he’s shirtless he gets straight back to the task at hand. Frankie’s fingers make quick work of the buttons running the length of your sundress and he pulls the fabric aside, exposing the creamy lace of your bra. Your stomach flips at the sweet, eager look on his face. You’ve been together so many times, but he always makes you feel special, cherished. Despite being outside, potentially exposed, you feel completely at ease in his arms.  

With a quick glance up to check that you’re ok with it, Frankie unclasps your bra and helps you shrug out of it. The air is slightly cooler now, but his warm, broad palms encompass your breasts before the chill can even register. You sigh as his thumb brushes your nipple, and downright shudder when he wraps his plush lips around the stiffening peak. Your legs are writhing almost of their own accord now as you grow desperate for more. “Frankie,” you groan, tugging at his hair.

You feel his lips curve into a smile and his tongue darts out to flick against you. It glides along your swollen bud and your pussy aches for more so you hitch your leg over his hip. Frankie grabs your thigh to hold you close and rolls his hips sinfully against you, drawing a desperate noise from deep in your throat. “You like that, baby?”

You nod frantically. “You know I do. You know it drives me crazy when you put your mouth on me.”

Frankie chuckles and sucks your nipple into his mouth, pulling much of your breast along with it. The tugging sensation sends a bolt of desire straight to your cunt and you whine. You seize his jaw and glare, your eyes blown with lust. “If you don’t touch me soon Francisco I swear I will go inside without you and finish the job myself.”

You’re all talk and Frankie knows it. “I am touching you, sweetheart,” he says innocently.

You give an irritated huff and seize his hand, directing him where you want it. His composure slips when his fingers brush the crotch of your panties, already soaked with your need. His gaze flicks to yours, a lovestruck look in his eyes as he asks softly, “is this all for me?”

Biting your lip you nod. “Yes. I need you Frankie, please .”

“Shh, I’ve got you baby.” Frankie hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and drags them over your legs. You kick them off, nearly sobbing in relief as he drags a single finger through your glistening folds.

Frankie closes his eyes reverently. “Shit honey, you weren’t kidding.” His finger comes away coated in your juices and he sucks it slowly before replacing the digit. He adds another finger, the pads slipping just inside your entrance to collect more of your slick before circling your clit. You tip your head back, grasping his shoulders as he gently fingers your slit. Just when you can’t take it, when you’re ready to beg for more, he pushes those fingers into you, stretching you out perfectly. Mewling, you buck your hips, chasing the feeling of him fucking you open.

“Mm, that feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“Never. Think you can take another?”

“Yeah.” Your answer comes as a breathless whine.

“Good girl.” Frankie adds a third finger and you swear it makes you see stars. He curls his fingers to stroke that spot deep inside and you find yourself skating the edge of your release. You’re so close, could so easily tip right over that edge, but it’s not until you hear Frankie murmur “come for me, beautiful” that you actually do. All that gorgeous tension he’s been winding up unspools in a rush of pleasure, your legs shaking and your hips bucking as he works you through it.

You’ve scarcely begun to come down before Frankie’s blazing a trail of kisses down your belly, his hands gently parting your thighs wider to settle between them, keen concentration suffusing his handsome face.

“Wait,” you breathe, catching his jaw with a deft hand.

Frankie draws back at once, concern creasing a furrow between his brows as he gazes up from between your legs. “Everything ok?”

You sit up, already nodding to reassure him as you draw him forward and kiss him deeply. “Everything’s perfect. I just want to come on your cock this time.”

Frankie looks down at you in amazement before pulling you into a crushing embrace. He tilts your chin up to give you a searing kiss, his arm wrapped around your waist. He leans his forehead against yours, his breath tickling your lips as he rasps “You’re perfect, you know that, right?”

You giggle, moved by the awestruck look on his face, and drop your hands to unbuckle his pants. He’s already barefoot, making it easier to push his pants down, followed by his boxers. You glance around again, reassuring yourself that the coast is clear. Clocking what you’re doing, Frankie chuckles. “Don’t worry, baby, we’re good.”

Smiling a little sheepishly, you nod. “I know. Just protecting your honor.”

Frankie begins to laugh softly but the sound is cut off by a hiss as you lick your palm and wrap it around his shaft. “F-fuck.” His eyes roll back in his head as you tighten your grip, working his cock. You brush your thumb over his weeping slit, collecting the pearly bead of precum glistening at the tip. “Now who’s being a t-tease?”

You look up at him innocently through your lashes. “I don’t know what you mean, Frankie.”

“Sure you don’t,” he huffs, his breathing already picking up. “C’mere, baby.” He pulls at your waist, encouraging you up into his lap.

You’re happy to oblige. With a few quick movements, you’re settled above him, his cock lined up with your entrance. Throwing your arms around his neck, you lower yourself slowly, taking him inch by inch. Frankie buries his face in the crook of your neck and meets you halfway, thrusting up to seat himself fully inside you. He always seems even bigger when you’re on top, and he gives you a moment to adjust to being so well-filled.

“You good?”

“You have no idea.”

He smiles at that, clearly pleased. “Then tell me,” he urges, kissing you just below your ear. “Tell me how much you like me stretching you out on this big dick.”

Your eyes flutter closed at this. He knows what dirty talk does to you, knows exactly when it will be the most devastating. “It feels so fucking good, baby,” you assure him. “You’re so thick and you hit so deep. I can’t get enough, want you even deeper. Please, Frankie.”

He sucks hard at your pulse point, his tongue laving your neck as he begins to thrust up into you. “Anything, baby. I will give you anything you ask for. You know that, right?”

Gasping, you nod quickly. “I know, love. I know.”

His fingers tangle in your hair, his strong arms bracing you as he fucks up into you. You match each thrust, grinding yourself on the base of his cock. The two of you find your rhythm and you lean back, allowing him to hit at an even deeper angle. Frankie leans forward, able to reach your breasts now. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, all wet heat and slick tongue moving against you. You whimper and arch your back, trusting him to support you.

He does.

Frankie’s eyes are screwed shut as he pounds into you, determined to take care of you before finding his own release. Your whimpering cries plateau and he can tell you’re not quite there yet. He rests his forehead against yours without missing a beat, opening his eyes to gaze into yours. “What do you need, baby?” He asks it softly, reverently, his large hands cradling your face as if you’re something holy. With him looking at you like this, you almost feel that way.

“Talk to me, Frankie,” you gasp. “Want to hear how much you like this.”

Your want pulls an answering moan from him. “God, you know I fucking love this. You’re so tight, and you take me so well, baby. I could pound this pretty pussy all day.” He snaps his hips, driving himself deeper inside you as if to prove his point.

Your breathing comes faster, your cunt clenching around him as his words drive you closer to your edge. “Fuck, yes, just like that. I’m so close, baby,” you whine.

Frankie cants his hips, hitting that devastating spot deep inside you. His voice is even huskier as he urges you onward. “You have no idea what hearing that does to me, sweet thing,” he pants, sweat dampening his hairline. He runs the back of his hand distractedly over his forehead. He’s not about to let go before you do and he leans in close, his warm breath ghosting against your ear. “ Come for me. I know you want to. I can feel you clenching around me so be my good girl and come for me, sweetheart . ”

And just like that, a wave of sweet pleasure rolls through you. You clutch his shoulders as the two of you ride it together, Frankie moaning against your lips as he finds his own release.

Your head drops to his shoulder, your limbs quivering as little aftershocks zip through them. Frankie holds your limp form easily, dropping lazy kisses over your face and hair while you drift back to the present. Finally, you draw back, a dazed smile tugging at your lips. You blow out a breath along with a tired, please laugh. “That was-”

Frankie chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, pleased to have pleased you. “I know, baby.” His kisses are easy, unhurried, and still make you feel nearly drunk with happiness as the two of you linger lazily in your afterglow.

By now, the sun is truly setting, the horizon taking on a purple hue as the first evening stars begin to appear. Even in Frankie’s arms, you start to shiver as the breeze whispers over your rapidly cooling skin. In a deft move, he tugs at the edge of the old quilt, rolling the two of you into it, creating a cocoon of private warmth. As the sky darkens and more stars appear, the two of you stay wrapped up in each other, making plans for your future in the peaceful space you’re creating together.

#Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Morales x You #Francisco Morales x F!Reader #Francisco Morales #Triple Frontier #Pedro Pascal #Fic #My fic #Reblogging to add to masterlist properly #Sundress Season

[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes author's notes

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Chapter 9/?: Breath

The first day of guard duty starts out with a light drizzle, a gentle awakening tapping on the roof of his apartment, and then continuing atop the village gates. They relieve a ninja he’s not familiar with and his assigned partner for the shift, a woman that must be an Inuzuka; fang tattoos are outlined in red on her cheeks, and as she descends to trek back into the village, three dogs emerge from varying points in the trees to trail after her. The Inuzukas would be well-suited for guard duty, he thinks, especially at night; their keen senses of smell, as well as that of their canines, could clue one in on a possible intruder far more quickly than that of a normal ninja.

The both of them greet Naruto before departing, eyeing him a bit more warily. As he watches them go, Sasuke thinks perhaps the woman may be Kiba’s older sister, if he’s remembering correctly.

The drizzle doesn’t last; it’s just enough moisture to briefly saturate the ground, the pathway before them deepening to a richer brown before fading to its normal hue as the heat of the morning bakes the earth. They patrol in fifteen to twenty minute increments, flitting in opposite directions as calefaction trickles into the day, surveying the foliage before them spreading outwards.

It’s an odd feeling, watching over the village at its seams, home at his back and eyes trained on greenery he walked through just yesterday. He hadn’t seen anyone on duty when they left or returned, but he’s sure there must have been. It would be a different pair than the one they relieved; the day hours vary depending on numbers and season, as well as extraneous circumstances, but the night shift is always split into two, better for spry awareness.

He can faintly smell lilacs occasionally along the rounds, fragrant and distinctive when the slight breeze is angled just right. It makes his heart twist pleasantly, fingers twitching at his side in neoteric recall. The bit of rain will be good for all of Konoha’s verdure, he thinks.

If he takes a deep breath while patrolling to enjoy it more than once, exhaling the high of a treasured twilight, well, no one’s any the wiser.

“I’m bored!” Naruto parrots following the noon rounds as he opens his lunch, which Sasuke concludes was packed by Hinata; everything is neatly organized into compartments, rice and a small salad, as well as evenly sliced meat, screaming that it was made by someone other than the dobe.

Sasuke rolls his eyes; he knew that was coming eventually.

“So what?” he drawls, scanning the horizon dutifully as he rotates a kunai in his hand. He’ll eat his own lunch in a bit. It's standard procedure not to eat at the same time; they could drop the food easily if they become occupied by a threat, but it’s more responsible to stagger meals, quickening at least one of their response times. When his teammate asked, he told him to have his first; Naruto’s likely to complain more on an empty stomach.

It also has something to do with the late dinner he’s been invited to have with Sakura just after seven, but the dobe doesn’t need to know that. Two birds, one stone.

Naruto swallows a bite of his rice before responding, “So, entertain me! What’s new? How is being back in Konoha?”

“...It’s good.”

“And the apartment?”

“...Fine.”

"Is it still bare as fuck, or is it looking more like a human actually lives there now?"

Sasuke rolls his eyes, saying nothing.

Naruto groans. “Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall sometimes, teme.”

Sasuke’s eyes stay trained on the horizon line, finger tracing cool metal and considering.

“...I heard you nearly fucked up your flower beds.”

Naruto splutters, near choking on a bite of rice. Once he stops coughing, he glares at him, at which point Sasuke rolls his eyes again.

“Read the directions first next time, dumbass.”

“Pssh, obviously I will! I learned my lesson. And anyways, it was no big deal! Hinata-chan said if we missed a few, it adds character."

A minute passes as Naruto shoves more food into his mouth and the newly emerging sun intensifies the heat from above. They're in the shade of the station for the time being, but he thinks it will be a warm afternoon. The thought is followed shortly by a bead of sweat rolling down Sasuke's neck.

"...It's hot," he observes. He can at least attempt to make conversation, he supposes.

Naruto swallows his bite. "Yeah. Hard to believe it's only April still! Guess this beats being cramped into that stuffy office for another week, though."

Sasuke thinks for a long stretch as the dobe stuffs his face more.

"...That'll be you eventually."

The blond grins as he swallows. "Yeah, I s'pose! But I'll have a bigger desk then than I do now." He chews a piece of chicken and swallows it. "And no more Binder!"

He rolls his eyes once more, snorting. "As if you'll ever be able to memorize it all."

Cerulean eyes pin him with a look that is less than impressed.

"If Hinata-chan didn't make this food just for me, I'd throw it at you for that, teme. I'll have you know my study skills have really shaped up! Sakura-chan taught me all kinds of mesmerization tricks. I only have to consult it sometimes."

Sasuke experiences a profound moment of pity on Sakura's behalf for having the misfortune of being tasked as Naruto's study tutor. Of all her feats, that might be one of the most impressive.

"...You mean memorization."

Naruto blinks. "Huh?"

Sasuke scoffs, caustic and veering his gaze back to the horizon line. "Never mind."

“Well, anyways, I’m tired of dealing with Kakashi-sensei’s paperwork for him. They’re looking at having the next Jonin Exams here in the fall, and you wouldn’t believe the amount of preparation that goes into that shit. And the Chunin Exams are gonna be this summer in Sand, so he’s busy as fuck. And I’m tired of looking at that fucking scroll. I hope he has to finish solving it on his own, as payback for waking me up so early!”

A squirrel scurries across the path just outside of the village gates as he contemplates.

Sasuke then looks at his teammate carefully out of the corner of his eye. “...What happened at the Jonin Exams in Earth?”

Naruto chews in a manner that suggests he himself is contemplative, appraising Sasuke as if he is analyzing him and choosing now of all times to savor his food.

Eventually he swallows and grins deviously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Sasuke scowls in annoyance before rising.

“...I’m doing another patrol.”

“Aw, come oooooon.”

XXX

A late lunch of onigiri and what feels like several hundred rounds walked later, Kiba Inuzuka and Shino Aburame arrive for the evening shift to relieve them. Akamaru is with them, but he ambles through the gates and heads off east, following the curvature of the village walls as if it’s routine. An Aburame would be as well-suited for the night shift as an Inuzuka, he thinks; Shino’s insects can presumably fan out to survey the entire area, uninhibited by the lack of light.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our village idiot,” Kiba scoffs as they walk up, Shino silent as a shadow at his heel. Naruto splutters, indignant.

“Hey, wait a minute! We’ve been sweating our asses off out here all day, just for you to sweep in and get the cushy night shift when it’s not hot as fuck. You could show some respect. And anyways, pretty soon it’ll be Lord Seventh to you!”

Kiba bows in a show of mock deference. “Lord Village Idiot.” Then he’s punching Naruto’s shoulder in a way that seems more jovial and familiar than Sasuke can ever recall them being, and Sasuke remembers that these are Hinata’s teammates.

Kiba’s eyes linger on him for a moment in acknowledgment and something like curiosity accompanied by a frown before turning back to Naruto. “How’s Hinata? Still cleaning up after your messes?”

Sasuke barely suppresses a snort, given the accuracy of that question.

Naruto chuckles, slugging Kiba in return. “Yeah, yeah, I guess she is. She’s hangin’ out with her sister today; I probably won’t see her ‘til later.”

“Sounds like the day shift worked out just fine for you, then,” Inuzuka points out flippantly, pushing past him to begin to climb the ramparts of the gates. “I haven’t had guard duty in a while, but night’s better. Less people moving about and clogging up my nostrils. Would be better if the moon was gonna be a little more full so I could see, but whatever.”

“It is supposed to be another clear night, at least,” Shino states cryptically, in a manner that Sasuke takes to mean he was on the first guard duty last night, as well. It’s impossible to know for sure given his dark glasses, but Sasuke is fairly certain his gaze is on him as he speaks. “Naruto, Sasuke; we’ll take it from here. Have a nice evening.”

Sasuke blinks, having not anticipated that interaction to go so nonchalantly, much different than the uneasy stares he’d received earlier today.

He finds himself feeling grateful as he and Naruto leave the gates behind, walking back towards the heart of the village just past six. It’s not that he expected them to be rude or anything, but he expected more… disdain. He knows it must be difficult for others to trust him, yet they acted casually, as if him overseeing the gates was normal.

Sasuke doesn’t really care if most of the Shinobi in Konoha are distrustful of him, but he cares a little about his former classmates, though the Academy seems like a lifetime ago. His bonds with the other members of Team Seven run deep, but perhaps the bonds with the others close in age to him are not as shallow as he thought.

It’s… good.

He exhales the type of breath that comes after an extensive day of simplistic productivity before shoving his hand into his pocket. It’s still pretty hot out. He’ll need to shower before meeting Sakura at the hospital; he’s fairly certain he doesn’t smell the best right now.

“Hey, wanna get Ichiraku’s?!” Naruto pipes up from his left. “Hinata-chan’s having dinner with her sister till later. We could even get a drink, after! There’s nothing like a cold beer after a boring ass day of guard duty!”

Sasuke’s neck warms. “...I have plans.”

The dobe smirks at him in a sly way he's not sure he likes. Sasuke rolls his eyes and casts his vision elsewhere as his ears warm, too.

"Alright, I'll get takeout, then. Have fun with Sakura-chan!"

Naruto scampers away as the heat spreads to Sasuke's face.

XXX

“So you’ve survived day one,” Sakura calls in greeting as glass doors shut behind her, grinning in amusement. She's wearing one of her red tank tops and a violet skirt; she must have anticipated the weather.

He rolls his eyes, feeling the corner of his mouth twitch upward. “...Barely.”

She giggles as she gets closer, adjusting her tote bag slightly on her shoulder. Sasuke appraises her for a brief second, then holds out his arm, an offer to carry it for her.

She eyes him hesitantly for a long moment, looking at his arm pointedly, then his damp hair with an expression akin to suspicion.

“...We didn't spar."

I learned my lesson.

Jade eyes flick to his own, chartreuse and reflectant in the gloaming. Then she's handing it to him, expression settling into something soft as her cheeks flush slightly. "Alright. Thank you."

As they begin in the direction of her building, he mentions, "You've been tasked as a study tutor."

She groans, loaded with meaning. "Unfortunately, yes."

"...My condolences."

Sakura laughs, a sound that does wonders for his brain after nine hours of listening to Naruto drone on about anything and everything that pops into his head.

"It's not nearly as bad anymore, I guess; he got better after about a year of it."

An easy silence punctuated only by their footsteps and the crickets resounds, heat of the day in its last legs.

"...Strategy of choice?"

Pink brows draw together as she peers up at him with amusement, turning the corner towards her building.

"Believe it or not, flashcards. If he put the right answer on the back in the first place." She cocks her head to the side. "A few times he wrote the wrong thing and memorized the wrong answers."

There is a lengthy pause.

"...Mesmerized."

Sakura snorts, and she is astoundingly pretty even then, nose crinkled in amusement.

"I'm convinced he can't distinguish consonant blends,” she says through a chuckle. I've checked his hearing twice, though, and... nothing."

Sasuke huffs his version of a laugh, tinged with droll amusement.

It’s not long before her building comes into view.

When she opens the door for both of them, he is surprised to see an elderly woman watering the plants surrounding the middle apartment’s entrance on the ground level. It's the first time he's ever seen any of Sakura’s neighbors.

She looks to be at least in her seventies, stooping slightly to reach the lowest pot with a navy blue watering can, a cane clutched in her other hand. Something about her gives him the impression that she's a civilian, lacking the nimbleness that accompanies most Shinobi that make it to their older years.

"Hanako-san. How are you?" Sakura chirps, crouching suddenly for some reason. When Sasuke glances down, he sees she's begun petting an obscenely round cat, white with splotches of orange peppering its flank and now purring in greeting.

The woman perks up, turning their direction. "Ah, Sakura! I'm wonderful. Just getting the old bones out of the house, you see; you know how it is."

"I can water those for you if you’d like; it's no trouble," Sakura says as she rises.

Hanako smiles, wrinkled eyes slipping closed. "Nonsense; I need the exercise, and Maru here wanted to do some exploring. Don't worry, he's still too fat and spoiled like me to go up the stairs, so he won't get into your kalanchoe."

The cat meows, slinking around Sakura’s ankles in Sasuke’s peripheral vision.

Then the woman’s eyes land on him; they are pale green, he now sees. "And who might this be? My, you’re quite tall."

Sakura glances at him, smiling, before introducing him. "This is Sasuke."

Hanako blinks, then presses with an expression that is kind but curious, gaze flicking from Sakura, to Sasuke, to the bag he’s carrying for her, then back to Sakura. “And he is…?”

“Oh. Um, my teammate. And…”

Sasuke eyes Sakura, heart thumping in a manner he is suddenly hyperaware of.

Jade eyes framed by strawberry blonde lashes peek at him for an instant, chatoyant in the light catching them, and then she’s blushing, biting her lip and looking aside.

“...And my boyfriend.”

Contentment floods his chest as he exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He doesn’t know why, but it never occurred to him she'd introduce him as… that. It’s the first time it’s been vocalized, to his knowledge. He's pleased in a way that makes his insides feel funny, twisting but also like light pouring into his being, filling his lungs anew until they expand to meet the confines of his ribcage.

The woman nods, seeming quite satisfied with that answer. "Well, I'm afraid I don't get out much, Sasuke, but I'm Hanako; pleased to meet you."

Sasuke inclines his head in acknowledgment, and then Hanako's eyes fall to his feet. He feels a nudge. When he peers down, the cat is arching its tail to encircle his leg, having just headbutted his calf.

"Oh, he likes you," the woman chimes, delighted. “Hopefully Sakura still has a lint roller hanging around; he sheds like the devil.”

Maru continues circling around his left foot, and sure enough, Sasuke notes fine hairs of orange and white already clinging to the black fabric on his shin.

“I do,” Sakura confirms softly from his right; his eyes drift from the cat to her. Diamond outlines paint her skin. Her cheeks remain a little pink.

“Well, best make haste, before he gets the other leg, too,” Hanako murmurs, smiling. “Wouldn’t want to turn your apartment into a whirlwind of cat hair like mine is.” Sakura nods, and they amble up the stairs. Maru follows them to the bottom step, and then sits to watch them go, tail curling around himself.

Once they’re in Sakura’s entryway, he hangs her tote bag on its designated hook and begins to slip his shoes off. Sakura does, too, and then reaches for the woven basket atop the wall-mounted shelf. After digging for a second, she pulls out a lint roller and hands it to him; his fingers brush hers as she does so.

“...Thank you,” he says, trying and failing not to be distracted by the feel of her fingers against his again. He makes quick work of removing the fur from his shins, thankful for the opportunity to stealthily hide the heat on his neck and simultaneously wondering what her other neighbors are like.

And if she's voiced to anyone else that he's her boyfriend.

“You’re welcome. He’s a friendly cat; it helps to keep one of these around.” She takes her own shoes off.

He carefully tears the now fur-filled layer of sticky paper off, and Sakura takes the roller itself to deposit back into the bin.

“Any ideas for dinner?” She asks as she slides the bin into its place above them, stretching a little to do so. He shifts his gaze determinedly to the threshold and away from the arch of her back. “I set out some pork to defrost earlier this morning.”

“...Anything’s fine.”

Sakura casts a smile his way as he trails after her to her kitchen, depositing the sticky tape into her garbage. “Let’s check what I have.”

They stand by her fridge together, surveying the ingredients. There's a small amount of produce, along with half a carton of eggs. He’s coming to learn that her fridge is nearly always well-stocked, and despite her affinity for sweet things, she seems to for the most part live up to the standard clinicians’ recommendations of eating a lot of vegetables, so it’s odd to see her running low on produce now. She must need to get groceries soon.

After a drawn-out examination of the contents of her fridge, she begins, "I think I have some ginger back here,” rifling on the middle shelf before pulling out a neatly labeled bag. “Do you like shagoyaki?”

Sasuke nods.

“Maybe that and a salad? I’ve got sliced onions in the freezer.”

He inclines his head once more, and they get to work, setting out ingredients and utensils on her countertops.

“You should make the sauce; then it won’t be too sweet.”

“...I can portion out part of it and add sugar for yours.”

Sakura beams at him as she begins to cut slits into the pork. It does funny things to his insides, and the word boyfriend echoes in his head again. “Thank you.”

Sasuke scrapes the outer skin of the ginger off with a knife and the paring board, ridding it of any tough parts. Sakura is done setting the pork to fry by then; after washing her hands thoroughly, she grabs her grater from a lower cabinet and begins to work on it, keeping the juice in a bowl to add to the sauce. He adds the amount of grated ginger he wants to the mixture before they add some of the ginger juice. At the end, Sasuke adds a tiny amount of sugar to the mixture, then siphons half of it into a cup he procures from her cupboard.

As Sakura sprinkles the rest of the ginger juice and a small amount of sake atop the pork in its pan, he asks, “What are your other neighbors like?”

Jade eyes look at him inquisitively as she reaches for the clear canister of flour from the open shelving. He moves closer, so he can help dust the thin portions with flour alongside her.

“Well, Hanako-san’s in the middle unit downstairs. The other two bottom units are elderly women, too. They don’t really…” Sakura rinses her hands before situating a frying pan atop her stove, adding a meager amount of oil and turning the heat to high in preparation. Sasuke takes the opportunity to quickly wash his own hand once the sink is no longer occupied. “They don’t really get out much, I don’t think. They spend time outside on their patios when it’s nice, but it’s been getting warmer. Mainly it’s while I’m at work; I don’t see them very often.” She shuffles over to the fridge to take out ingredients for the salad.

“Is spring mix with avocado and miso dressing okay?” Her eyes meet his briefly; he nods, and then she’s pulling out the ingredients. He holds out his hand for the avocado, a silent offer to slice it.

“...What are their names?” He asks as she gets out a larger bowl from an upper cupboard so she can toss spring mix and mint together, miso sauce sitting beside it on the counter.

“The left unit is Keiko and the right unit is Sayuri-san.” Sasuke doesn’t fail to notice the lack of honorific regarding the woman named Keiko. “Sayuri-san is really nice. She’s one of the tiniest old ladies I’ve ever seen.” She sifts the greens as Sasuke slices the avocado. “Sayuri-san and Hanako-san are both kind of forgetful, though Sayuri-san is worse about it. I think she might have dementia; her son comes to check on her a few times a week, and they have lunch. Hanako-san having Maru around helps her remember things better, I think. Daily reminders.”

Sasuke maneuvers the cutting board over to the bowl, and slides in the avocado. Sakura’s lips quirk upwards.

“There are some tomatoes in the bottom drawer of the fridge, if you want to slice some up,” she offers. He nods before procuring a handful from the bottom drawer; they’re cherry tomatoes. He begins slicing them in halves.

“...Are they friends?”

“Ah, yes, I think so. Hanako-san and Sayuri-san have lived here for a long time; I know it was close to their grandchildren, when they first moved in. Keiko hasn’t been here as long; longer than I’ve been here, but not by much. She’s…”

Her voice trails off, and Sasuke glances up from his slicing in curiosity. Then she shrugs. “Keiko is a retired Shinobi. In her eighties; she’s older than both of them, but much... sharper. She’s kind of...”

Sakura sighs, and then she’s shaking her head as if something can’t be helped. “Well, she’s kind of rude. She keeps to herself, for the most part.”

That intrigues him. It’s not often that he hears Sakura speak ill of anyone. The single example he can think of is an offhanded comment concerning the Sannin that Naruto trained under, well over two years ago and enough in passing that it wasn’t further discussed.

“...And the second floor?” He slides the cherry tomato halves into the salad, and Sakura tosses the ingredients once more before grabbing the pan of pork slices to fry in oil that is now sizzling.

She considers the question thoughtfully. “Takane is next door, in the middle unit. She’s a Shinobi, too, but active duty, in her thirties. She’s rarely home; she likes being on the move, so she takes as many missions out of the village as she can get. Ino says she’s dating someone from the interrogation unit that she’s always with, if she’s in the village; he lives across town.” She adjusts the pork in the pan with a pair of tongs to evenly distribute the heat from the burner. “She’s quiet. I think the entire time I’ve lived here I’ve only seen her four or five times. I water her plants from time to time, if she’s been gone awhile; she chose things that need little care on purpose.” Sasuke hasn’t taken much note of the types of plants that adorn the entryways of her neighbors, but he’s walked by them enough at this point that he vaguely knows what they look like. One of them might be a cactus, now that he’s thinking about it, so that makes sense.

“And then Yuna is in the southern top unit. Non-Shinobi; she’s sweet, but she works odd hours, so I don’t see her much, either. She’s a courier; she’s out of here most mornings before five, back in the afternoon, and asleep by eight. She has a boyfriend she’s been with awhile, too, so sometimes she stays at his place, I think.”

Her apartment building is in an apt location for a courier, not far from the center of the village, so that also makes sense.

Sakura flips the pork slices before sliding over two plates in preparation; there are three more to cook once the current ones are finished. Sasuke watches them sizzle; they smell really good, and he’s hungry.

She swivels to go to the freezer - he assumes to grab the pre-sliced onions - and then she asks, “What about you?”

The question catches him off guard. “...What?”

She pivots with a clear container of onions in hand, a small smile playing at her lips. “Your neighbors. Anyone interesting?”

Sasuke blinks.

“...I’ve never seen them.” There’s one unit to the south of his that he shares a wall with, and he’s heard their front door open and close perhaps twice in the weeks he’s been back, but it’s only audible from his kitchen; the walls of the building are thick enough brick that little sound carries.

He wonders if they’re ninja. Thus far he’s just been grateful that they aren’t overly nosy as some neighbors are when someone new moves in. Even if they were, he still wouldn’t have expected them to try to welcome him, given his reputation. He hasn’t exactly been spending much time at his apartment, come to think of it, other than to eat and sleep and pass the time when Sakura’s busy at the hospital.

His neck warms again, unbidden, recalling that she’d introduced him as her boyfriend to her neighbor.

Then Sakura’s pulling the pork from the pan, reaching for the other three with the tongs.

“You could add the dressing to the salad,” she suggests, so he does. Pretty soon the meat is done cooking, and she’s frying sliced onions before returning the pork to the pan to be sauteed together, onions and meat and savory ginger sauce.

They sit to eat at her table, and it’s good. She has a knack for pork dishes especially, he thinks.

Sakura chatters about her work and assorted injuries. Afterwards, they do the dishes. He’s learning the contents of the rest of her cupboards and drawers, though there are several still that he’s never seen opened.

Upon putting the last few in their designated spaces, Sakura wipes the countertops one more time, then asks, smiling, "Would you mind if I showered quick? I'll only take fifteen minutes or so. You could pick out something to watch."

Sasuke nods in agreement, pleased in an odd sort of way; thus far he hasn’t been left in her space unsupervised. She gives him one last happy look before gathering the towel and the sponge to take with her; he assumes she’s going to put them in the laundry hamper to be washed.

It’s a little past eight; he sees the sky is changing colors outside Sakura’s window while he listens to her footsteps pad down the hall. A door opens and closes shortly after, followed by the more familiar sound of the bathroom door closing; it makes a slight creaking sound due to the way the wood frame has settled, he's noticed in his time spent here so far. She must have grabbed a change of clothes from her bedroom beforehand to take with her.

Sasuke ambles to the living room and turns on her television, beginning to flip through channels and suddenly concentrating very hard on not thinking about Sakura taking a shower in the next room. He settles on the documentary channel; there will be an interesting one at eight thirty, a series detailing unsolved mysteries.

Then he hears the water flip on; he glances behind him at the sound. His gaze falls on her wall of photographs.

He's been curious about them, and it would provide an effective distraction. He supposes it's not like he's snooping; they're in the plain view.

So Sasuke rises, and takes the opportunity to study the photos hanging on her wall.

He has glanced at them individually in the time since he has been invited into her living space more regularly. Now, though, he can really study them, try to glean all the bites of information he can from the Sakuras in each of the photos, of all of the times he has been absent from the village and from her life.

There is one from when she was very young, Academy age, posing shyly with Ino in what he surmises must be Yamanaka’s Flower Shop. It's from a time where her head barely extends above the height of the countertop, framed by a sea of roses perched above the both of them. She wears a dress with a blossom pattern at the hem that he vaguely remembers. The picture is old, a wrinkle at the edge of its containment within the glass, he notices. It’s also smaller in size than the rest on her wall; camera quality has probably advanced since then.

Two more feature her and Ino solely, spaced out and intermixed with other photos. He moves to the next one, from a day they must have gone swimming in the summer. Sand and a lake are sprawled behind them, the duo clad in swimsuits, and they both appear a bit sunburnt; Sasuke thinks she may have been around fourteen. They seem happy, holding up their pointer fingers in a number one gesture as if they've just won something.

As he examines it, trying momentarily to place the location - it must be somewhere in Konoha - he notices a scattering of freckles blooming on Sakura’s shoulders and her nose from time spent in the sun.

He quickly averts his eyes to the last one that includes her and Ino, stepping to the far left.

They're dressed formally for a festival of some kind; it’s situated on the end of the display as if it was added more recently, perhaps taken in the last year or two. He recalls a letter in which Sakura mentioned attending Tanabata with Sai and Ino. She hadn’t elaborated much - just that Sai acted about how one would expect - but he speculates as he examines it that this photograph must be from that evening. Ino appears rather smug, smiling in a determined sort of way, as if she has just given someone the what for. Sasuke supposes she looks nice, but the Sakura in this picture is the focus of his attention.

Her hair is woven into intricate braiding, small white blossoms pushed in between the plaits and pulled into a clip towards her nape. Tendrils of silky pink hair frame her face. She is adorned in a mint green kimono edged with white trim, overlaid with a pattern of pink and white blossoms, a dainty sort of ornateness. The obi is a gold that leans slightly light green; the color suits her, he thinks, and brings out the greenish gold flecks in her eyes. Her smile is soft and genuine, freckle and dimple on open display, eyes filled with mirth and kindness. A single brow is arched in the way it tends to do when she is amused.

Sasuke stares at it for the better part of a few minutes; it has caught his eye before, but he’s never been in a position to actually study it. She has to be the most uniquely beautiful woman in the entire village. If someone were to visualize a spring deity, it would probably look near exactly like the Sakura in this picture.

The water is still running from the other room by the time he manages to pull his gaze away, so he shifts to examine the remaining photographs. Several of them show Sakura, Naruto, and Kakashi. One was taken outside of Ichiraku’s, because of course it was. They’re young; it must have been around the time Naruto returned from training with the toad Sannin. The dobe seems overly excited. It may have been their first time eating together following his return to the village, his zeal for the restaurant apparent. Sakura and Kakashi both look genuinely happy in it, smiling so widely that their eyes crinkle at the corners.

There is one next to it where Sakura is posed with Naruto, Kakashi, and also Sai, at another festival. This one appears more casual, and she appears younger than the one he expects is from Tanabata. It’s a different kimono, a desaturated navy sprinkled with a pink petal pattern, and her hair is less intricate, though she is still very pretty. It must have been taken later in the day, just past dusk; everything is slightly desaturated. Her smile in this one is soft, albeit a little tired.

In the photograph beside that one, she is even younger, posing with Tsunade and her assistant Shizune in the Hokage’s office. Briefly he wonders why he has not seen her at all in the past couple of weeks; from what he’d gathered from Sakura’s letters, she’s still acting as an assistant to the Hokage. Maybe she’s on some sort of mission right now. A small pig is situated at their feet.

It must be from the beginning of Sakura’s apprenticeship; she doesn’t look that different from when he left the first time. Shizune is smiling, but Tsunade is stern in this one, frowning as if taking a picture bores her. It probably did, given the mess she’d inherited from the Third.

Tsunade’s hand rests atop Sakura’s head; she was a lot shorter than her master back then. Sakura herself is smiling, but in this photo, it doesn’t seem to reach her eyes as much as it normally does. He frowns as he examines it.

In the one after that, they are older, more recent; Tsunade’s arm encircles Sakura in a manner that belies their closeness, much more than the previous picture. Naruto and Kakashi are in it, as well. The background is unfamiliar; it must be in Earth Country, when she made Jonin. They all are smiling, pride evident in their expressions, with Sakura grinning in the center, and this smile reaches her eyes.

The outfit she’s wearing is not one he’s familiar with. It’s a modified version of the active gear she used to wear on missions, but this version bares her midriff, covered only by netting. It suits her well, but he tries not to examine that picture for too long, either, because it also hugs slender curves in all the right places.

He moves on to the one hanging to its left; this one shows Kakashi, Sakura, Ino, Choji Akimichi, and Team Ten’s sensei, Asuma. It must be from the Chunin Exams, as the three of them are clad in standard issue green vests that look new. That makes sense; Shikamaru had been promoted, so Sakura joining their squad to fill in given his own absence and Naruto's would have been a good fit. In this snapshot, Sakura seems happy, but tired.

His gaze trails to the last photo. This one is not posed, a picnic, judging by the patterned blanket laid on the grass. Sakura is in the center, not smiling but instead calling upward. Sai and Kakashi sit near her; his replacement is painting on a scroll, cherry blossom trees with an orange blob situated in the center. There’s an orange flash in the corner, as well, possibly a knee; Naruto must have been the one taking the picture. He wonders who gave the dobe a camera. Knowing him, he probably dropped it from the tree or something.

By that time, he hears the water turn off, so he assumes his side of her couch, vision catching on their original Team Seven portrait still sitting perched on her shelf.

It’s nice, he thinks, to be in a picture in Naruto’s house, or on Kakashi’s desk, but it’s especially nice to be in a picture in Sakura’s apartment, included in the minutiae of mementos filling her home.

The bathroom door opens, followed by the sound of her bedroom door opening. A couple of minutes pass, and then he hears her footsteps echoing down the short hallway, latch clicking shut behind her.

“Did you find anything good?” She questions softly as she comes around her side of the couch, wearing more casual clothing, well-suited for lounging. Her hair appears as if it’s just been brushed, neatly parted, and the berry scent is fresh and renewed. He’s coming to associate the aroma with easy comfort. It has to be her soap, maybe shampoo or body wash.

“...A documentary series.”

The title flashes on. “Oh, I like this one,” she comments as she takes her seat on the opposite end. Soon they’re enmeshed in the complexities of a strange disappearance from decades ago in the Land of Snow, one that remains unsolved today.

He excuses himself to use the bathroom after it’s concluded; Sakura heads to the kitchen, offering to prepare tea for them both.

It’s not the first time he’s used her bathroom, but it is the first time she’s left the shower curtain open, and sure enough, there is a bottle of mixed berry scented body wash situated on the corner of the bathtub.

One mystery solved.

XXX

The next day of guard duty passes in a blur of orange annoyance, though this time it’s moreso irritation at the dobe’s strange behavior than his usual chattering. Naruto keeps staring at him like he’s a puzzle to be figured out, as if there is something he wants to ask him in between various mission squads returning and squirrels scrambling across the main road, but he never does; instead he occasionally drones on about Hinata, her sister, training, their old classmates, and everything in between, seeming not at all invested in the conversations he’s trying to start. Like he’s just rambling to fill space instead of the true Naruto brand of rambling.

At least it’s not as hot today, billowing clouds slipping idly by in the breeze and offering some cover from the sun.

“You know, teme,” he starts for the fifth time this hour. “We should really challenge Kakashi-sensei to another bell test! I think we’d kick his ass.”

His eyes feel inordinately stretched from how much he’s been rolling them over the past day or two, though that would be an interesting challenge, the more he thinks on it.

“...When would he have time for that?” Between prepping for the Chunin Exams in Sand and Jonin Exams here, he probably will be even busier than usual.

Naruto’s face takes on a more serious expression.

“Well, fuck, I don’t know. Probably not much with the Jonin Exams prep on top of everything else.” He taps his fingers against the flooring, fidgety as if he’s thinking. “Maybe we could kidnap him?”

Sasuke gives him a look that he can only hope communicates how absolutely stupid that idea is, given his history.

Then his teammate is grinning conspiratorially, like he has just devised a brilliant plan. It’s a quick switch; suddenly Naruto seems more invested in the conversation than he has been all morning.

“Or… we could hold his books for ransom. That’d get his attention real fucking quick.”

It could work, albeit being pretty juvenile. He’s gathered that Naruto spends a lot of time in the Hokage’s office, and it’s the first time all day he’s seemed his genuine self, so he decides to bite.

“...Do you know where he keeps them?”

And then Naruto seems incredibly pleased with himself. He cackles.

“Wouldn’t you like to know. I heard you’ve been reading a lot. You could probably learn some things.”

Sasuke scowls and glares at him in tandem as his neck burns. He walked right into that one.

“Fuck off.” He has zero desire to read those stupid books.

“Whatever. I’m doing another patrol,” the dobe counters in a mock imitation of his voice as he rises, chortling as he leaves.

The rest of the shift passes, Naruto chuckling to himself and not saying anything more, and Sasuke glowering at him in annoyance on the few occasions he does chance a glance in his direction.

His teammate doesn’t ask him to eat once the first night shift relieves them this time, as if Naruto already knows Sasuke has plans.

Perhaps he does.

XXX

When he meets Sakura at the hospital, she looks… different. Tired, or maybe deep in thought is a good way to describe it; her pink brows are knitted together in consternation, eyes downcast as if something is bothering her.

When she sees him standing there, her expression morphs into one that is more friendly.

"Sasuke-kun. Hello," she greets softly, a tentative smile on her lips. It reaches her eyes.

"...Sakura."

He wonders if he should ask if something happened, but then she's launching into conversation as she approaches him.

"How was day two?"

He sighs exasperatedly as his answer, annoyance still fresh in his mind, and her smile grows.

“That bad, huh? My condolences.”

When he holds out his hand, there is no inkling of suspicion this time. She hands him her tote bag to carry, murmuring a quiet but sincere, “Thank you.”

“...How was work?” He asks assiduously as they fall into step together.

Sakura blinks owlishly, then bites her lip.

“...It was fine,” she says eventually, looking elsewhere.

He keeps his eye trained on her beside him, not saying anything and hoping she’ll take it as encouragement to elaborate.

Jade eyes drift to him after a minute of no response, the only sound shoes taking steps on the gravel walkway.

“...I’m just worried about a patient,” she finally offers, a vestigial amount of concern in her tone.

His mouth hardens in a solid line, because he’s not sure how to comfort her with something like that. He’s no good at providing comfort in general, but running a hospital by nature likely comes with a unique enormity of weight that is difficult to bear at times.

“...I’m sorry,” he murmurs, wishing he could do more.

Sakura shakes her head, seeming very far away for a moment. “It comes with the territory.” Green eyes peek up at him carefully, a twinge of a smile that makes his heart stutter. “...But thank you.”

He speculates at first that perhaps she needs time to herself today; maybe he should go home early. She gives no indication that she doesn’t want him there still, though. She asks him questions as they cook karaage and vegetable teppanyaki for dinner, if he saw anything interesting during guard duty and what conversation topics Naruto smothered him with.

She perks up a little at the mention of another bell test, lips curving in a way that belies a competitive streak that he doesn’t see from her often. He leaves out the teasing aspect of that exchange.

“Oh, right, he mentioned that a few weeks ago. That would be fun, though I’m not sure when Kakashi-sensei would have the time.”

Sasuke nods, relieved to see her smiling wider again. “...The Jonin Exams will be held here in the fall.”

Sakura blinks in deliberation as she flips the chicken with tongs in the frying pan. “He’ll be even busier than normal... Maybe once that’s passed, though it’s a ways away.”

He nods for a second time.

The karaage is nearly done, so he holds his hand out for the tongs, a silent offer to take over so she can get the ingredients for the teppanyaki. She mentioned using canned vegetables earlier for it, since she’s running low on produce. He infers they’re in the corner pantry, but he’s never seen it opened, so he would feel a bit odd grabbing them himself.

Her lips quirk further upwards, and he’s stupidly distracted by them. Then she’s handing the utensil to him with a soft, “Thank you,” before she heads to the corner.

When she opens the pantry door, he is a little stunned at the sheer amount of food she has packed into it. There are unassuming bags of staples, flour, sugar, oatmeal, and rice that he assumes she must use to fill the clear glass containers that are stored on the open shelving in the main part of her kitchen. Those are normal enough, typical for pretty much any pantry; it’s the canned goods that surprise him. There are row after row of canned blackberries, blueberries, jams, carrots, cucumbers, tomatoes, zucchini, green beans, peppers, potatoes, and more that he can’t quite see from this angle, all organized by food item. They’re in clear mason jars, the kind typically used when one is canning food from a self-grown garden.

Her balcony garden can’t be big enough to have grown all of that. A new mystery. Sasuke supposes Ino might have a garden, given her mother’s profession. Perhaps they came from her, or maybe Hinata; there seemed to be a vegetable garden in the dobe’s backyard when he’d seen it before.

She brings a jar each of carrots, zucchini, green beans, peppers, and tomatoes to the counter.

“I’ve never tried it with tomatoes before,” Sakura says, jade eyes catching the light through her kitchen window as she gazes at him. “They’re cherry tomatoes again; is that okay? I know they’re kind of sweet.”

He inclines his head once more. It’s more than okay; they’re not terribly sweet. He can handle them, in small amounts.

They set to work mixing the vegetables together.

XXX

She seems more herself by the time she walks him to her door, another movie watched and hours passed to decompress.

“Would you like to... get tea, maybe? Tomorrow morning? They’ll have iced now, if it’s hot out,” Sakura mentions as he pulls on his sandals.

She’s busy every other Thursday evening, he recalls. He prefers black iced tea, if it’s warm outside. He nods in acquiescence, relaxed in the knowledge that she seems less somber now and more her usual self.

“...I’ll meet you here,” he suggests, rising back to his full height from putting on his shoes. “At seven?”

Sakura nods in return, smiling up at him softly in a way that is entirely different from the way she does for photographs. It reaches her eyes, but there is something more to it, something tender.

Still.

Sasuke carefully presses his lips to hers, trying to be more gentle than usual, stroking the freckle on her cheek once with his thumb.

When they part, he exhales deeply before he pulls her close with one arm, hugging her as she did the other day. It's not much, but he wants to be able to comfort her in some way, even if it seems like she’s mostly back to her usual self.

She stiffens in surprise, and then in a blink she's relaxing, wrapping her arms around him, fingertips that fit perfectly between his now spread along his back.

She doesn't say anything, face pressed to his chest, but she does grip him tightly, breathing out slowly as if she is trying to let whatever is on her mind go.

He hopes it helps.

XXX

Sasuke eyes her downstairs neighbors’ garden patios as he passes them on his way back to his own apartment, thinking that perhaps the elderly ladies are who Sakura got her collection of canned goods from. It appears that there’s nothing but flowers, though.

Interesting.

XXX

Day three of guard duty is as grating as the rest, but Sakura is occupied, so Sasuke accepts Naruto's invitation to Ichiraku’s for dinner. The dobe has been acting more normal today; he’s not sure what his deal was yesterday.

He orders his usual. It's just past the dinner rush, so there aren't as many people in the restaurant anymore by the time they get their food.

It's barely cooled enough to eat when Naruto finally says, "Well… Congrats, teme."

There isn't a hint of teasing or malice or anything other than happiness in his voice, aside from his commonplace usage of the colorful nickname.

"...For what?" Sasuke asks innocuously. He’s pretty sure he knows exactly what he's talking about, but he also enjoys fucking with the idiot when the opportunity arises. Sakura seemed even moreso her cheerful self this morning when they had tea, so he's in a good mood, all things considered.

Naruto wiggles his eyebrows, eyes twinkling and mouth grinning after a gulp of noodles. "Don't play dumb with me; you know exactly what." He waves his chopsticks accusingly, pointing at him to emphasize the word what. "Sakura-chan is very happy. I don't know what you did, because she won't tell me, and BELIEVE ME, I've been asking. Whatever it was, it must have been good. This is the happiest I've seen her since… well, ever."

His heart does that thing it does when it comes to Sakura, where it turns over in his chest cavity before swelling to meet his ribs, and he distracts himself by slowly releasing a breath and chasing a rogue leek chunk around his bowl with his chopsticks. Sasuke is also the happiest he can remember being in a long time, but he is still Sasuke, and he's not fond of talking about his feelings.

As he brings it to his mouth, his teammate’s words sink in, and he comes to the realization that the reason Naruto hasn't been pestering him about Sakura is because the idiot has been pestering Sakura herself, apparently to no success.

There is something about that that is incredibly amusing, so he offers nothing, and chews.

"Yeah, keep pretending to be cool, Mr. Walk Her Home From The Hospital and Hang Out at Her Place Every Night. It's totally not obvious that you’re dating Sakura-chan. I have plans, my ass," Naruto continues next to him, smirking between bites. "All I can say is it's a fucking relief; I thought I’d have to watch you be an idiot when it comes to girls for forever. And they say I’m the stupid one. With the way she's acting, you've at least kissed her by now.”

Sasuke’s ears burn at the mention of kissing Sakura. Of which he has done many times at this point, good night exchanges he looks forward to all evening, that he missed today when they parted ways at the hospital entrance.

He swallows the food he's been chewing, trying to school his expression into maintaining insouciance, despite the heat he feels creeping up his neck.

He supposes it's time. Especially if Naruto’s been pestering her, because now that he thinks about it, the dobe would have had few opportunities to bother her, given she’s been spending the majority of her free time with him. That can only mean he’s been bothering her at work. Sasuke recalls the phrase kicked him out being used at one point.

That won’t do.

"...At least," Sasuke acknowledges unambiguously, appearing to gaze nowhere in particular, but timing it just as Naruto takes another bite. He revels in his teammate’s surprised sputter, apparently near inhaling a noodle; clearly he hadn’t expected he was going to outright admit it.

Idiot.

As Naruto coughs, Teuchi regards him with concern, as if this is a regular occurrence, and refills his near empty glass of water.

Once the dobe gulps enough of it to stop choking, he casts an expression towards him that is uncharacteristically soft, his smile more pure now that food isn’t obstructing his windpipe, before just shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

Sasuke almost thinks he's not going to comment on his admission as retribution for making him choke, which would be more than fair, but after a minute, Naruto murmurs quietly, looking back to his food and stirring the contents of his own bowl, "I’ve known for a while, y’know.”

He distracts himself from the warmth he feels on the back of his neck by taking his own bite, chewing slowly in rumination as he stares down his food before swallowing.

“...When?” He’s curious which provenance made it apparent. Naruto, for all his growth, has never been famed for his perceptiveness.

The answer comes quickly, as if his teammate doesn’t even need to ponder it. “Since a hospital room a long time ago.” He pauses, then adds, “The way you looked at her was…”

There’s a singular moment where the words hang in the air. Sasuke glances to his left, and then his teammate is shrugging, a stupid grin on his face. "Well, I just knew."

That sounds about right. He remembers that embrace vividly, hands just as soft then as they are now, the feeling of someone caring for him, of not waking up in a hospital room alone.

And fingertips on his back. Like last night.

"Anyways, now that you’ve admitted it, y'gotta stop hogging her."

"...I'm not hogging her," he contests indignantly, though he supposes he kind of is.

"Uh huh, sure, sure. Like you aren't attached at the hip."

If Sasuke wasn’t on the dobe’s right side instead of his left, he’d shove him.

“...Whatever,” he says with no malice at all.

XXX

The fourth and final day of guard duty passes with little fanfare. Naruto drones on about how they need to have a Team Seven movie night, and a training session, and Kakashi’s utilization of some jutsu he hadn't expected during training, launching into story after story at a mile a minute.

“We usually have those at Sakura-chan’s place, ‘cause she has a good collection! We bring lots and lots of junk food,” his teammate chatters. He assumes ‘we’ must mean both him and Sai. “One time I laughed so hard that my drink came out my nose! Sakura-chan was scary after that, though, so we don’t watch comedies anymore.” Naruto blinks as if deliberating before he flits to the next topic of conversation. “We should all train together sometime, too! I was thinking Training Ground Sixteen, since it’s got the best terrain. One time I trained with Kakashi-sensei there, and he used Water Replacement to disappear into the pond. I didn’t even know he could use that technique! So I pummeled the whole thing, like pow, pow…”

Sasuke half listens in between rounds, vaguely amused and looking forward to the future while simultaneously thinking Naruto still doesn’t know when to shut up sometimes.

And inhaling and exhaling the scent of lilacs, hand twitching at his side. The wind is stronger today, cajoling his recall with gentle psithurism.

He agrees to spar tomorrow morning at Training Ground Sixteen. It’s a newer one, at least; he’s never been to it.

"Have fun smooching Sakura-chan!" Naruto calls in a sing-song voice once they’re relieved for the day by two ninja he’s not familiar with by name, before taking off down the street whooping and cackling.

His neck burns.

XXX

"I told Naruto,” he murmurs quietly as he and Sakura do the dishes together in her kitchen later that evening.

Green eyes are on him immediately. The light fractals from the sun’s setting are casting them aglow, and she has the tiniest little smile forming, a steady quirking of her lips upwards.

He is struck by the sudden desire to kiss her then, thinking of how soft her lips are and how close they’re standing, less than arm's length away with nerves twisting pleasantly in his belly. He's never kissed her in her apartment anywhere but the entryway, and he didn’t get the chance yesterday, since he walked her to the hospital.

There is a prolonged pause in which he thinks that she has also realized how close they're standing, cheeks coloring to paint her skin the same rosy color as her hair.

And then Sakura’s gaze very clearly drops to his mouth, and then she's really red, hastily looking back down towards the dish she'd been washing.

Sasuke swallows, feeling very warm all of the sudden.

“Oh?” She rinses it before handing it to him, making eye contact once more despite her cheeks darkening further, an invitation to elaborate.

He forces his eyes away from her mouth and dries the bowl carefully before saying, “...I didn’t know he was bothering you about it.”

There is a lengthy pause.

“...I thought my shift today was a little quiet,” she admits softly, lips curving as she returns her attention to the suds in the sink and the remaining utensils. “No shadow clones.”

Ah. The dobe really has been bothering her.

Sasuke briefly wonders why she didn’t just tell him, just to get him out of her hair. He has no qualms regarding anyone knowing about them, although he's not particularly fond of the teasing he no doubt will continue to endure from Naruto and Kakashi.

Then her expression changes into one that is devious, reminding him of when they were Genin, the kind of look she would get right before picking on Naruto for whatever idiotic thing he did or was about to do. She casts her eyes up at him again, though her cheeks are still pink.

“It’s fun to mess with him,” she remarks, grinning playfully as she works on the mugs they used for their evening tea.

He snorts.

They do a few more in a comfortable silence, her washing and him drying before putting them away.

Something has stuck with him from the conversation at Ichiraku’s; she's been inviting him over, so at this point he thinks it's fine, that she really does want him here, but it won't hurt to ask.

"...He said I've been hogging you."

Jade eyes blink in surprise, strawberry blonde lashes fluttering. Then she's really blushing.

"Maybe I like being hogged," Sakura murmurs, grinning with mirth and purposely bumping her right shoulder against his left for a second. "Naruto should mind his own business."

Vines twist, grasping at his heartstrings.

XXX

Sunday brings an A-ranked mission assignment, taking care of some bandits that have been parrying and retreating around the borders of Fire Country, stealing valuables and food stocks from the residences of the smallfolk as they try to finish sowing seeds for the beginning growing season.

“We’ve finally gotten enough intel on their next location to make a move, though it’s quite time sensitive,” Kakashi divulges, motioning towards a now fully-deciphered scroll.

It’s a different squad assortment than he’s had thus far, led by Shikamaru, with Choji and Sai rounding out the rankings. There are three locations to hit, and the timing is important; Sai’s flying birds will be of use in terms of getting to each location in time to head them off. Shikamaru will trap, with Choji and Sasuke coming in for incapacitating blows. The bandits have been creeping at the borders of other Shinobi nations, as well, so they’re given orders to take those they find into custody if possible, in order to gain intel.

Contributing toward a greater good will be nice, Sasuke thinks.

They’re dismissed following briefing to pack, with orders to depart early the following morning. They’ll be gone for eight days.

Sasuke is still not used to talking more than necessary around people that are not Sakura or Naruto, so he's surprised when Shikamaru chooses to walk in step with him as they exit the Hokage's office, Choij and Sai trailing behind. He's not really sure how to interact with his old classmates still, so his go-to response is to simply say nothing.

"So," Shikamaru says casually, hands in his pockets and looking nowhere in particular, as if this conversation that he's starting already bores him. "You and Haruno, huh?"

His neck warms, because that is not at all the topic he'd been expecting.

"Yes," he answers quietly, evenly enough despite being taken aback

Shikamaru merely responds, "Hm." He cracks his neck lazily as they descend a floor, round a corner, and descend the next floor.

They’re almost to the exit that leads into the street, and Sasuke wonders what the point of the question was, concludes it was just to settle curiosity; he has always found Shikamaru slightly hard to read. Choji and Sai are peculiarly silent.

Then, as they arrive at the main entrance, Shikamaru shifts in step ahead of Sasuke, and opens it for everyone.

"It's about time."

Sasuke stills for a second, and Choji snickers behind him, as if he was waiting for this reaction the whole conversation, or lack thereof; he moves past Sasuke through the doorway, and says, glancing backward at Shikamaru as he does so and looking absolutely conspiratorial, "Looks like Kiba owes us some money, Shikamaru. We'll have to track him down so he can pay up and have a feast with the winnings when we get back."

"Yes, Beautiful bet money on this outcome, as well, while she was plastered," the voice at his back murmurs. "Kiba may never financially recover. My congratulations, Traitor," Sai adds helpfully, smiling in his weird detached manner as he also passes Sasuke to cross through the threshold.

Shikamaru stays, casually leaning and still holding the exit, giving him a knowing smirk.

"...Thank you," Sasuke murmurs sincerely as he passes through the door being held open for him.

XXX

It’s a hot morning for a spar. They stick primarily to taijutsu and fundamental weaponry, since Sasuke has a mission assignment tomorrow. They’re drenched in sweat by the end, thick rivulets dripping down his spine.

Sasuke wins.

“Damn, teme, that was fun! I haven’t been this sweaty in ages,” Naruto laughs, affable even in defeat and not at all bothered by the host of bruises starting to form on his arms, nor the one on the side of his face where Sasuke’s foot landed. Sasuke himself is pretty sure there’s a nasty one forming on the back of his right shoulder. “When you get back, I’m going to kick your ass! Then you have to come drinking with me. Sakura-chan can come, too. And maybe Sai! Team Seven drinking night!”

It doesn’t sound that bad, if Sakura comes, too. He inhales deeply, then exhales.

“...If you can win.”

Naruto just laughs.

XXX

“You’ll come see me when you get back?” Sakura asks him later in the evening, lovely in her entryway, auriferous flecks catching in the light of her lamp.

He nods, chest feeling full as he recalls a single affectionate word spoken in the very spot she’s standing.

Okaeri. Of all the routines that have begun to form since his return, he thinks that one may be his favorite, the magnanimous promise of no more arrivals home to an empty house.

She peers up at him softly for a moment, and then her hand is on his cheek, sifting hair away from his Rinnegan eye, cherished lenity in fingertips against his skin for a single charged second as he holds his breath.

"Okay. Be safe," she says gently, letting her hand fall to his shoulder, a gentle redamancy before she rises on her tiptoes.

This kiss is so lengthy that he still can hardly breathe, after, abeyance of everything but catharsis stealing the air right from his lungs.

It will get him through the next eight days, plenary in a manner that makes him unable to fathom how he survived for so long without it.

XXX

He carefully waters the lily bulbs early the following morning, out of his canteen before meeting the rest of his squad at the village gates. Hopefully the weather won’t be too warm while he’s gone.

As they depart, he inhales deeply and exhales the scent of lilacs, irenic and incalescent.

#naruto #sasusaku #ssfanfiction #cherry writes #like gold #fanfiction #sorry for the delay school is kicking my ass lmao

[rainbowtransform]

@ethereal-deadly-clover @melancholycatastrophe

:) (def would consider checking out this post before for a little more context!!)

Here’s the thing: Dream loves his server. He enjoys playing with it, growing flowers and managing to coax dogs and cats out from the undergrowth of trees. He looks at the stars above him, big and bright and beautiful. When he decided to settle, Dream puts away his shoes.

He walks barefoot through the grass, feels the wind, and feels the earth beneath him. The word he has inhabited, the world that holds him close and murmurs words of love is huge. It’s awaiting his exploration, and hums a song that he doesn’t quite understand.

His feet are bruised by the time he finishes his walk. Bad scolds him for it, but he sees the faraway look in Dream’s eye, and remembers the first time he’d gotten his own server. “Be more careful,” he says quietly while wrapping them. “Shoes are important, and you’re not going to help yourself without them.”

Dream shrugs. He wriggles his toes, and smiles.

“I like going barefoot.” He says. “It makes me feel closer to the World.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Pandora’s Vault burns his feet almost instantly. Dream spends the first week hopping from foot to foot, settling them into his respawn hole, and wondering why it never hurt this much before.

Sam looks at him with no expression, and only raises an eyebrow at his hopping. There were shoes in Dream’s changing bag, but he’s hasn’t worn shoes in forever. The only time was when he’d enter the Nether, but he’d take them right off afterwards.

“They’re uncomfortable.” Dream tells Sam. “I’m wearing them.”

A sigh.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

He’s in the trees, feet dangling. Sam’s underneath him, shoes in one hand and a half-smile flitting across his face. “It’s almost winter,” he says. “You’ll get cold. You’ve got to wear shoes.”

Dream shrugs. “I’ll wear socks.” He counters.

“They’ll get wet,” Sam says back. Dream crosses his arms. No one likes wet socks, but Dream doesn’t want to wear shoes anymore. He hasn’t been for a while.

“What if I only walk on the Path? Or I only leave when it’s warm enough or I just go outside the community house.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “You’re not going to do that.” He says bluntly. “You can barely sit there for this world, you’re always exploring. Now you’re going to dust inside for a whole season?”

Dream sighs. He climbs down the tree, and Sam smiles at him. He gives Dream the shoes, and then tightens his own laces when Dream’s tying his. “I’ll be back before this season’s over.” Sam tells him, brushes aside Dream’s hair.

Dream feels uncomfortable. Sam says his goodbyes, and once he’s out, Dream takes off the shoes.

(The others look away. They’ve gotten used to not trying; Sam’s the only one who still does. Callahan even took his shoes off for a week or two, trying to connect to the world like Dream.)

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The thing about Techno joining him is that he’s calm and collected. He’s bored, but he hasn’t been through the things that Dream has been.

“So,” Techno says, looking at the shoes Dream has on. “Why are you wearing Velcro shoes? Can’t tie your laces?”

Dream shrugs. “The Warden put them on me.” He said. “He usually does before Quackity comes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s like a punishment inside another punishment. He knows I don’t like shoes.”

“You can take them off right?”

“With permission.”

Techno shrugs. “Well… I’m giving you permission.”

Dream shrugs. “The Warden’s supposed to.”.

Techno hums. He drops his cape around Dream’s shoulders, and leans against a wall. “Well,” he says. “I’m going to sleep.”

(And if Dream leans next to him, far away enough to not touch him but close enough to grab Techno just in case, that’s enough. And if Dream wakes up tomorrow with no shoes, Techno looking like he hasn’t moved, there’s no one’s business except his own.)

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Dream writes and writes. His hand shakes, cramps, but he taps bare feet against chests and dips them into the respawn pool. Techno takes the books, and flips through them, and sometimes he’ll make Dream laugh. He also just watched Dream and the difference between shoeless and having them.

It’s done, Dream thinks. He signs his name off, writes it in a flourish. It’s like signing his death warrant. Dream finished the last sentence, and hands off the book to Techno. He doesn’t read this one, but he does give a hard look in the camera’s direction.

“Listen, Dream,” he says softly. “I’m going to go away for a while. I promise, I promise, I’ll come back. But you’ve got to stay strong okay?”

Dream stares at him. “You’re leaving?” He says.

Techno takes the cape from the floor and drapes it over Dream’s shoulders. “I am. I’ll come back for you. Team Chaos, remember?”

“Team Chaos,” Dream echoes.

And then he’s alone.

(Quackity hates that Techno got away. Sam hates that Techno got away, and burned the shoes. Dream cowers in the corner, begging forgiveness even though he did nothing.)

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Drowsy, Dream opens his eyes to see the Warden putting Velcro shoes on him. Dream hates them. It means that Quackity’s going to do something and Dream doesn’t know what. Sam doesn’t look at him, but he does make sure the straps are tight on him before leaving.

Quackity comes in minutes later. Dream curls in a corner, trying to get away, trying to get them off, ect are they on him what is he planning sometime sometime sometime—

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

He’s lead outside, with a bunch of people on the entrance. He tries to reconnect with the earth again, tries to feel the world underneath his feet, but there’s—it’s nothing.

He can’t feel anything except the socks and the shoes that feel dead, dead, dead. He would have fallen, trying to grab something in his hands—grass, dirt, the shoes—if the Warden’s hand didn’t tighten on his arm.

The warning is clear: stop.

“See?” Quackity says. “He’s fine. Sam hasn’t done anything to him.”

Dream looks up at the sky, and tilts his head. It’s dark, almost like it’s about to rain. Dream hasn’t seen rain in a long time. He wonders what season it is, before his attention is snapped toward Antfrost, who looks him up and down.

“Why is he wearing shoes?” Antfrost asks. “Dream never does.”

“Pandora’s Vault is hot,” the Warden says. “His feet will burn otherwise.”

They ask the Warden a bunch of questions. They don’t ask Dream, but Ant kept giving him weird looks when he reached for the grass beneath his feet. He just wants to connect again.

Dream feels wind against his face, and he looks to where it’s coming from. There’s a shadow, flying low with the wind. Dream almost looks up, but doesn’t. It’s probably a bird.

The Warden’s hand tightens again, and Dream could feel tears building. Dream looks up and then suddenly everyone is staring at him.

“Dream,” Puffy says. There’s something in her expression that he can’t quite place. ��Are you okay?”

Dream turns away and tries to grab some grass again.

“Prisoner,” the Warden says. “Answer the question.”

Dream catches Quackity’s eye, and watches how his expression changes from one of pleased to angry. The Warden’s hand is getting tighter, almost digging into him. Dream nods once, and the Warden lets go.

“Well, that’s a lie.” Technoblade says from above, and then all hell breaks lose.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Dream loves the night sky and the stars that come with it. When Dream first settled, they could see millions of stars above them and Dream made his own constellations. The stars glowed bright.

(Later on, it became too light to see some of them. But Dream remembered where they used to be. He’d sit on the roof of the Community House for hours, tracing where they were.)

But in the Arctic, they are unfamiliar. “Make new ones,” Techno told him. But Dream misses the old stars, he misses his fri—

He misses when there was no wars.

When it was just Dream in the world, he managed to bring a star down from above. He held it in his hands, hot and cold at the same time; and he watched it. It fizzled and spit and didn’t burn out for a long time.

Dream thinks he was a star, intimidating and untouchable. But he’s also at the end, his fizzle had sparked out. He’s not who he used to be.

He doesn’t know who he is.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

He tries to be barefoot in the snow, tries to feel the earth underneath his feet. There’s nothing except the stinging bite of cold and the dogs’ breathing.

Techno finds him, shoeless, sitting on his porch edge. He’s holding onto two pairs shoes, one Velcro and the other with laces. “It’s pretty cold,” he says.

Dream doesn’t reply. Techno sits down next to him, “Listen,” he says. “You lose the most heat out of feet and your head. I’m okay with you being shoeless in the houses, or the porch. But once you step off, you’ve got to wear shoes. Choose one.”

Dream looks at them. “Laces,” he says. “I can wear laces.”

“Sure, nerd,” he says. Techno leaves the shoes on the porch, and then gets up to go inside. “Phil’s making hot chocolate,” he says. “If you want.”

Dream nods. He lays down on the porch, and looks at the stars above him. A million, waiting for constellations.

So, Dream begins drawing.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Dream used to coax flowers into blooming early before the Wars began. Iris and Ivy, lilacs, and Lilies, asters and carnations. Roses and willows, and everything underneath the sun.

In the Arctic, they don’t grow. They shrivel because the Arctic is cold, and flowers are used to warm weathers. And Dream almost cries, when he manages to have a flower grow.

It’s a daffodil.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The Syndicate come back from a mission, gunpowder staining hands and wither residue left on Techno’s cape. They’ve also got Redstone dust on them, but Dream doesn’t ask.

Dream watched them walk up, and Techno glanced down at his bare feet. “We can go on a training mission,” Techno tells him. “Somewhere warmer.”

There’s a break, and Dream looks down at his feet, and the flower that he’s grown. Niki and Phil are already inside, discussing what they should bake for dessert tonight and Boo’s already gone and writing something in his Book.

Dream looks up at Techno, and smiles. “Sure,” he says quietly. “I’d like that.”

(There’s something almost beautiful when he reconnects to the server. When his feet dig into soft soil, and he can feel everything.

Dream lays down, and watches the sky. Techno lays next to him. They’ve got weeks to spend here.)

#dreamwastaken #dream smp #Technoblade #they’re rivals your honor #dreblr #tw implied torture #there’s a lot of ‘feet’ here #anyway #this is a cursed idea that I ‘stole’ from Melancholy #and I made it sad #he he #:) #rain’s writing #no cursed headcanons for you #only sad

[soracities]

hi! i’d like to ask if you know any words (or poems) about august/ending of summer. this season holds a special place in my heart & the same goes for your lovely blog 🤍

Blue poured into summer blue, / A hawk broke from his cloudless tower, / The roof of the silo blazed, and I knew / That part of my life was over.

— Stanley Kunitz, “End of Summer” 

You notice it first as April ends and May begins, a change in the season, not exactly a warming—in fact not at all a warming—yet suddenly summer seems near, a possibility, even a promise. You pass a window, you walk to Central Park, you find yourself swimming in the colour blue: the actual light is blue, and over the course of an hour or so this blue deepens, becomes more intense even as it darkens and fades, approximates finally the blue of the glass on a clear day at Chartres, or that of the Cerenkov radiation thrown off by the fuel rods in the pools of nuclear reactors. The French called this time of day “l’heure bleue.” To the English it was “the gloaming.” The very word “gloaming” reverberates, echoes— the gloaming, the glimmer, the glitter, the glisten, the glamour—carrying in its consonants the images of houses shuttering, gardens darkening, grass-lined rivers slipping through the shadows. During the blue nights you think the end of day will never come. As the blue nights draw to a close (and they will, and they do) you experience an actual chill, at the moment you first notice: the blue light is going, the days are already shortening, the summer is gone.

— Joan Didion, Blue Nights

August of another summer, and once again / I am drinking the sun / and the lilies again are spread across the water.

— Mary Oliver, “The Pond”

I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know. Twilight is the border between day and night, and the shore is the border between sea and land. The border is longing; when both have fallen in love but still haven’t said anything. The border is to be on the way. It is the way that is the most important thing.

— Tove Jansson, “Moominvalley in November”

And the ocean smells like lilacs in late August—how is that. The light there muted (silver) as remembered light.

— Franz Wright, “Walking to Martha’s Vineyard”

August here is dense as a jungle in the rain.

— Kevin Barry, "Roethke in the Bughouse”

Summer after summer has ended, / balm after violence: / it does me no good / to be good to me now.

— Louise Glück, “October”

The first week of August hangs at the very top of the summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after.

— Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time. 

— Sylvia Plath, Unabridged Journals

— Meena Alexander, “Atmospheric Embroidery”

And we speak of everything / that does not come true, which is to say: it was August. / August! the light in the trees, full of fury. August / filled hands with language that tastes like smoke

— Ilya Kaminsky, “Musica Humana”

Broad sun-stoned beaches. White heat. A green river. A bridge, scorched yellow palms from the summer-sleeping house drowsing through August. Days I have held,days I have lost, days that outgrow, like daughters, my harbouring arms.

— Derek Walcott, “Midsummer, Tobago”

August moved toward its impervious finale. / A mood by the river […] Borderless and open the days go on—

— Deborah Landau, “September”

Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar

— William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury

Every year, the bright Scandinavian summer nights fade away without anyone’s noticing. One evening in August you have an errand outdoors, and all of a sudden it’s pitch-black. It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive.

— Tove Jansson, The Summer Book,

August! - Heart! Month of late kisses, Of late roses and late lightning! Of the rain beneath the stars August! - Month Of the rain beneath the stars!

— Marina Tsvetaeva, “Girlfriend”

This morning, the sun endures past dawn. I realise that it is August: the summer's last stand 

— Sara Baume, A Line Made by Walking

(Do you remember / the look of August?)

— Federico García Lorca, “Echo”

— Margaret Atwood, “Late August”

#quotes about x #quote compilation #ask #anonymous #seasonals #august #is this a queue which i see before me?

[bakugohoex]

CONGRATS ON 1K !!! can u do yamaguchi for fluff #5 ily ily ily

“see them, how he looks at her as if she’s the only person he sees, that’s love”

pairing: tadashi yamaguchi x female reader

cw: fluff, angst outsider couple (mentions of cheating), language

word count: 1000+

a/n: thank you so much and i love you too bby, this had mild angst for a random couple and hella fluff for the reader and yamaguchi

summary: in which a couple just about to break up watches you and yamaguchi on a date, seeing what a true couple should look like

1k event masterlist

↞ back to haikyu!! masterlist

The couple stared at each other, pent up anger and hatred searing through them. They had gone out for a walk, finding themself sitting on a park bench as the confession to cheating and loss of love came from their mouths. He stared at her as if she was nothing, as if their whole relationship had meant nothing, which it clearly had. “Three years and you sleep with your boss’ daughter.” She whispered, she had been repeating the same thing over and over again.

Hands on her face as she felt numb, tears streaming down her face. “I still love you though, I...I always will.” He was trying to fix the relationship, but how fucking dare he. The woman looked down crying even more, he tried to touch her, but she shrugged him away. 

They heard the squeals behind them, you and Yamaguchi hand in hand as you went to find a spot for your picnic. Even if the woman felt like today was the worst day in the entire world, to others it was probably the best. “You ch...cheat on me and still say you l...love me.” She sobs looking up into the bright sun, for such a broiling day she felt ever so sad. 

She watched as the two of you sat in front of them a couple feet away, Yamaguchi still holding your hand as he placed the blanket on the floor. She continued staring, how your boyfriend sat down arms open for you to rest your body against his own. His hands wrapped around you as he left a small kiss across your shoulder. You both were happy, something she wasn’t feeling at the time. 

“I do…” The man trailed off, he tried to see where his girlfriend was looking but could only see the two of you. “Baby, talk to me please.”

He reached out to grab her, but she moved his hand away, she didn’t know why she had even given him the time of day to justify the cheating. “You don’t get to call me that, fucking hell y…” She tried to wipe away the tears, make herself be strong “…you broke a relationship, a happy one, we could’ve had a future, we could’ve been happy together.”

“We still can have one, please give me one more chance, that’s all I’m asking, one more chance.” It was a lie, and she knew it, he had no remorse. Everything about this was a power play so he could have the security of a woman at home to fuck, to clean for him, to be a maid whilst he went about cheating. She faced back at the couple in front of her. Yamaguchi passed you some fruit as you opened your mouth to take it.

She could hear you laughing as he tried to drop it into your mouth but missed. The young love in front of her that she had wasted with a cheater. She stared and stared, eyes welling up as she missed when she had the type of relationship you and your boyfriend had. She watched how you snuggled closer into his arm, kissing his cheek as he became flustered. 

“I can’t, I don’t want to, you made the choice to cheat, I...I can’t okay.” She wanted to leave but his grip on her wrist made her stay before she looked back at him. The lying and cheating face she had fallen in love with in front of her, his grip stayed firm as she tried to move away from him. 

“Just please one more chance, I deserve that right, I love you.” The sadistic smile he had to reassure her that they could have a future was filled with malice and the tears and mascara continued to stream down. 

“You don’t.” She whispers standing up, she points to the two of you. Both in your own world as you sat between Yamaguchi’s legs, the comfort and love he brought you. “See them, how he looks at her as if she’s the only person he sees, that’s love”

He stared at the two of you, a fresh new couple who had everything going for them. He looked down at his hand on her wrist, his ex’s wrist. He couldn’t let her go, he couldn’t, he had to fight for her. The grumbling noise of thunder emerged before a downpour of showers occurred, it hadn’t been scheduled to rain but in an instant the couple heard shouting and laughing. 

“Tadashi, you said it wasn’t going to rain.” You pout at the boy quickly getting up as he packed the stuff away, your hair dripping wet. 

Yamaguchi looked at you happily, his gaze across the sundress you wore which now stuck to your skin. “Come on baby, how was I supposed to know? I’ll order us some dinner to make up for it.” He reached out for your hand as you happily took it with a plan in mind. 

“Baby, let's play.” You chuckled before grabbing his other hand and making him let go of the basket as you ran out under the trees and into the rain. Feeling the trickles of water come down both your faces as you went up and messed his hair. 

He grabbed your waist with an ease, he felt comfortable enough to do anything with you in public. “You’re going to get sick.” He kissed your temple before kissing your lips, the rain mixing in between the kiss, as your hands went to his damp locks and his own tightly on your waist. The couple had watched the interaction, watched how you both stayed in the rain kissing. 

It was something that would never occur between them anymore, he looked at her as she continued to look at you both. “They’ll never fall out of love.” She mutters making him ease his grip on her wrist. At the sign of this she moved his hand away before stuffing her hands in the pocket.

The rain gave her an excuse for her crying, tears poured out as she finally walked away, the last words she heard was the parting kiss between you and your boyfriend and the I love you’s that followed.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac @dai-tsukki-desu @fandomsinthegalaxies @crimsonbows-and-arrows @admin-in-residence @otterlockholmes @gabrann @zlatanakermann @c0urtn3y @bakuhoesworld

#tadashi yamaguchi #tadashi yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi #yamaguchi x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #hq #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #fluff #tadashi yamaguchi fluff #bakugohoex 1k event #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

[knoxious-poet]

random things i love part 2 because i love so many things it hurts

summer rains

the song trees sing when they're caressed by the wind

daydreaming while driving, but with music

when it's so hot outside so i roll down the passenger window and put my hand out

old songs that remind me of my parents

finding forgotten notebooks/drawings i made as a child (including some letters i used to write to my mom and she kept them for over 10 years lol)

hearing a song on the radio that i used to love but i forgot about

last month of school, june, it's so hot and i'm skipping classes to go drink iced coffee

when boys laugh(?)

looking at people when they're not aware i'm looking at them... and they're not even trying man but they're so pretty

overhearing what people are listening to on the bus

when people squeak

peaches

summer love

watching my friends evolve and reach their dream lives

having someone cry on my shoulder

good night texts from people i forgot to reply to

waking up with texts and notifications from that someone

yay!!! my book (or anything else i ordered) just came in the mail!!!!

watching my friends play basketball

checking the weather for the next day because i'm excited to go out

cancelled classes

getting a big grade on something i honestly thought i would fail

the colors of the sky after the sunset, lilac purple

lavender everything. tea, perfume, flowers, fields, the color, the name!

hearing someone say they're proud of me

laying on someone's chest and they're humming...

i remember this time i was at a cabin with my parents. i was so small. it was really late, like 1 am, and they were up in the living room with their friends, smoking and talking. i put my head on my dad's chest and he was talking to my mom, and his voice was so vibrating and deep. i smile when i think about it because i know that i'm so much older and we won't do that anymore.

the scars on my knees from when i was small

watching myself grow and becoming better than ever

little kids talking really fast and taking deep breaths

the stars. the planets. saturn. the moon

running for the bus

making people feel important because they are

writing letters i'll never send

sketching on my notebooks

dps bots

the reflection on the walls made by inside pools hit by the sun

my friends being excited about their favorite artist dropping an album

cinnamon coffee during the winter

seeing girls rock summer dresses

boys listening to female artists as they should

opening the window during a storm because the thunders calm me

walking down the streets of my city and picturing the past and history of it. i look at the buildings and imagine girls in victorian dresses waving at their lovers

people speaking with accents

getting a pack of cigarettes and flipping one cigarette as a wish

sad songs

mysterious abandoned buildings

people tucking their hair behind their ears

people making me guess on what cheek i have a lash

meditating. just sitting and thinking. being aware of my own existence. i'm here and i'm breathing.

kissing

tired eyes

#knoxious #<3 #dps

[xgryffinwhore]

can you do something with bev🥺 like it can be literally anything - it’s just so hard to find stuff on her

I KNOW RIGHT!!! bev content is lackingg!! don’t worry, i got you

the right words to say

warnings: bev x fem reader!!! soft fluffiness heh. and smoking. aaaand language.

word count: 1.2k

her fiery locks bounced short on her head as she road fleeing sherman lane. her crew socks and worn out reebok’s peddling her rusty bike down the slope of the asphalt. lose floral sundress flying back from her sped, the cuts and scars on her legs exposed. some fresh, from your recent adventures.

she is your best friend, always will be. ever since you two met each other, your souls intertwined. she’s cool, cooler than anyone you’ve ever met. she’s stubborn, can be such a prick sometimes. but she’s beautiful, in a friend sort of way. yeah, just in a friend way. right?

to be honest you had no idea. sure, you were in highschool, you had boyfriends and you liked your boyfriends. but your boyfriends didn’t act like bev, they didn’t speak like bev, and they sure and hell didn’t smell like her(like the perfume she stole from the mall; citrusy with a touch of musk.

it was just a girl thing though, it was normal to think your friends were pretty and shit. everything you were feeling is NORMAL. it’s normal to blush when you think of your friends, it’s normal to stare at them when they’re not looking, and it’s normal to imagine their lips on yours so soft an-

“l/n” bev mused “you seriously need to go to bed earlier, it’s like i’m pulling you down from jupiter.” you shook your head and looked back at bev, her break stand on the gravel and her foot dangling from the bike seat where she perched.

“sorry marsh, i’m good now” you threw your bike on the ground and began walking with her toward the quarry. the water was a deep turquoise today, matching your bra you used for a bathing suit.

you both stripped eagerly, the summer sun making your skin hot to the touch. she wore a white bra and pantie set, with little pink polka dots. “nice lingerie” she joked, pointing at your black underwear with a small duck on them. “shut it bev.”

you held yourself hand out in an invitation to hers, you always held hands and jumped in together. her hand clasped yours, it was rough and calloused from the days she spent climbing up trees to get away from henry and gretta. before you had time to think bev had jumped, her weight pulling you with her.

the water always felt the same, frigid. it was refreshing on the days that you couldn’t walk on the asphalt barefoot without burning the soles of your feet.

beverley’s head popped up shortly after yours, she slicked her amber locks back and inhaled deeply. your bodies floated on the stagnant water, for a while actually, it was so peaceful.

your bodies migrated to the shallow part of the quarry, a little place you and her called ‘pebble palace.’ she handed you a opaque stone “pebble for your thoughts” she always did that. you took the pebble and rubbed it in between your index finger and thumb. “dont really have any right now” you breathed, your mind crowded with every thought imaginable.

“well i have one” she stole the stone back from you, “scared for highschool to start back up, if ‘m bein honest” she skipped the stone into the water, that’s what you two did. after a pebble-thought has shared, you had to throw the pebble back into the water.

school was closer then you’d like to admit, a week left of days like this. you picked up a pebble and threw it in the water, “still get to see you though, so i’m not too bummed.” she smiled like the always did, “yeah, it’s that aspect isn’t as sucky”

she laid back on one of the rocks, she usually naps around this time after we are done swimming. the sun captured her perfectly, her freckles looked like constellations and her limbs were loose and relaxed. she was alluring.

her nap was short lived, the sun was hot, you both mutually agreed to go back into the water. she splashed you "so, you still talking to kent?" she asked, you looked down and smiled "nah, too boring." you both splashed each other and she prodded "but why not? too pretty to be riding solo"

that made you blush under your sun burnt skin, she took noticed and continued "probably the most gorgeous girl in this town" she traced her fingers along your jaw "soft on the eyes" she slurred.

you stood there idle, why was she doing this to you?

"such pretty hair" with her other hand she rain her fingers through your damp ends "and eyes" she titled up your head to make eye contact with her. she was close now, you could smell the lilac candies on her breathe. you both subconsciously gravitated closer to each other, you lips almost brushing. your breath became audible, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

you turned around and regulated your air flow. "what the fuck marsh" you cursed "what the fuck is happening?" you carded your locks through your fingers, your world running in circles around you. "im sorry y/n- i thought you liked it!" she sloshed her legs through the water to be face-to-face to you once again.

"what are you trying to do to me?" your feeling welled up in the corners of your eyes and began to drip down your face. " y/n, i thought you and me and some -eh- chemistry?" your eyes went blank, homosexuality was a ew concept in the 80's. sure, men homosexuality was well known but female? barley heard of, basically only in porn (which you may or may not have watched.)

"bev- we cant be into each other" you laughed nervously "we are friends, we are GIRLS, we cant like each other." beverley's face dropped in disbelief "i see the way you look at me l/n, you cant fake that type of shit" you tried to stop her but she kept going:

"youre the only person who makes me feel something, youre the light of my life. youre not like anyone else, better than any stupid boy. youre everything y/n, everything."

your words stumbled together, you couldnt form a sentence if your life depended on it. "i- well thats so nice of you ca- i feel that som- well no that you r- like agree-" she hushed you with a kiss, fire works went off in your head. kissing a girl felt so much better then kissing a guy.

you spent the rest of the evening holding hands and walking around the forest 'no i thought you were so pretty' 'i think ive like you forever, swear to god!'

bev and you road back to your house, your curfew was soon. "so" bev started "ive been dropping hints for like- ever- why didnt you stay anything?"

you bit your lip in contemplation; you were never really good with phrasing things. "i guess i was just looking for the right words to say" you bashed. "and that is" bev leaned in "i love you" you whispered, she answered by kissing you one last time before the sun fell behind the horizon.

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