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#i do Adore river song!!!!!!
lyxchen · 4 months
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I really do love the 11th doctor but why are so many of his episodes just horror and darkness? Like I know that Doctor Who also often has an element of horror but I don't remember it being that much. Where are the fun silly filler episodes? Why are all the filler episodes so scary now?
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lovelyheartclover · 4 months
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GLOBAL STRIKE: DAY 7
CEASEFIRE NOW 🍉🍉🍉
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jennycalendar · 6 months
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if this makes no sense I'm sorry, tired and trying to indulge: how do you imagine a Husbands Of River Song type deal (in-universe fun cute bittersweet, out of universe we owe this character an apology) for Jenny going?
OH i had to drag out my laptop for this one!!! so many thoughts!
my initial thing is like -- there is a real crucial difference btwn jenny and river that i think would make it super difficult to write anything husbands of river song-esque. river is mishandled at times but she's always clearly presented as a character we should root for and enjoy, even if we don't 100 percent know her motives -- because she's all but stated to be the doctor's wife, we know that at some point in time the doctor will love and trust her, which means that we as viewers have room to love and trust her too even without full info! her retconned backstory is intended to give us that info and show us exactly why we should treasure her, and imo i think that while i take issue with some of the details/execution, the concept is so fucking sweet??? like holy shit, the daughter of two of the doctor's companions, who we have gotten to know over the course of a season and we've watched fall in love? her superpowers and her alien-ness coming from an act of love in the tardis on their wedding night? she's literally a born traveler. she was conceived in space.
my absolute worship and adoration of amy/rory is possibly jumping out here, but i personally love seeing their baby and getting to go "that's their baby :)" so no issue at all with melody pond. it's hard (for me at least!) not to love river when you look at her as amy and rory's daughter!! so much anger and bitey rage and impulsivity and adventure (amy) and so much unwavering devotion to a partner who is not verbally demonstrative but who shows their love through awkwardly expressed physical affection & grand romantic gestures of devotion (rory)!!! and i am getting SO off track i just. am back in the sauce. my POINT is that we are given a billion reasons to love river, and the show loves river, and you can feel that.
conversely, jenny.... the show is kinda built to ice her out? she's giles's girlfriend, which gives her a pass to exist, and her retconned backstory is essentially constructed to make it sadder when she eventually dies. like, if we think about it, ALL of the weight of her death comes from the fact that she's trying to redeem herself -- for this backstory that was made up in the eleventh hour. jenny is essentially given depth to make her murder a cool storytelling moment, which is fundamentally horrendous, and not at all something i can ever see this show doing to river. (i think there are similarities, but river's death is sorta retroactively given weight through later episodes that turn her into a person, which feels in many ways like the inverse of what happens to jenny. both of their deaths bring them narrative interiority in different ways.)
soooo all of this to say that i have A LOT of trouble constructing a husbands of river song situation for jenny, because i think that would require the buffyverse to have even the slightest iota of awareness as to the scope of how wrong they did jenny! dw i think was very aware of what was done to river, more so as the years went on -- we see that in the name of the doctor, when we're given post-library river who is clearly heartbroken and feels abandoned! and the husbands of river song was such a beautiful way to try and give river a storyline that shows us the rich life she's led outside of the doctor -- to make it feel less like she revolves around him and stops existing when he's not in the picture. it reinforces this dynamic where she and the doctor are travelers in each other's lives. they're both having fun with it, even if there's always grief woven in.
i feel very strongly that the show itself fundamentally believes jenny's death to be a Good Smart Thing, an Important Thing, and so any attempt to apologize for doing it would go against that fundamental belief -- that we so often see repeated verbatim in the fandom! so many people going "i'm so sad for giles but this was such an amazing moment!" which is HORRENDOUS. and which is also probably why i am so "this is my specialest girl" about jenny. she should live.
but if i was to come up with something, i think it would actually be in the form of a post-canon tie-in novel, or maybe some kind of extended special episode -- not the show itself! i would want jenny to be removed from this specific narrative that thinks her death was righteous -- that she exists instead in a story that's for her. and the plot that follows is actually very loosely the plot of a fic i kind of wanna write but have never knuckled down and written. someday!!!
when i was working on figuring out what you make, i gave jenny a cousin (nora) who has awe-inspiring magical powers but who absolutely refuses to use them for anything constructive. she's a very no-nonsense judgy fighty weird-about-her-emotions type, and she's got the world's softest husband & their three babies. i've always liked the idea of writing something where she finds out about jenny's death, goes, "well! FUCK that, actually," and just, like, casually resurrects jenny in a way that (let's throw in some doctor who lmao) is maybe a little time-bendy? like maybe she scoops jenny's consciousness out of her the moment before death, and then manages to revive the body? lots of weirdness so that jenny's not being snatched out of the afterlife. nora's methodical like that. but BECAUSE this is a very weird and roundabout process, jenny's memories are a little scrambled, and that means she really doesn't remember anything about sunnydale in a way that's super coherent!
and all of this coalesces into giles, in some random ass colorado town for no reason, getting rung up at an adorable little family grocery store By Jenny and nearly having a fucking heart attack. so essentially the whole plot is just giles trying to first come to terms with SEEING jenny, then kinda clawing at the walls about the whole thing, THEN trying to figure out what the fuck is going on and maybe restore jenny's memories in the process, while meanwhile nora has snapped into full-on protective mom mode because she doesn't think he deserves any kind of contact with jenny ever. the implicit narrative suggestion would be -- maybe it's better if jenny DOESN'T remember him, yk?
i think it would make the most emotional sense for this to happen over the summer between s2 and s3, because it would be able to be this cute one-off where it also feels believable that giles and jenny's relationship could eventually recover from this. this of course systemically destroys giles's arc in the entire rest of the show and sends the whole thing crashing down like dominoes, because, like i said, show fundamentally believes that jenny should be dead. i can't speak for how the rest of canon would look after that, which sorta defeats the purpose of "adorable little one-off tribute" -- but if jenny does get her memories back, it's always possible that she and giles sequester herself away from canon somehow?
but also, if it's a one-off, it could end in some awfully bittersweet way where giles actually decides to let jenny go, or to let nora keep his memories of the summer, or something. like jenny's memories actually don't come back, even though she and giles are of course spending time together and she is shown to be still very clearly in love with him. i feel like that would probably be the ending that would most hammer home the fact that canon is a cesspool, giles is returning to it, and maybe jenny would do better away from a narrative that thinks she's most compelling when she's dead. (this is the ending i personally feel would be most truthful and make the most sense.)
THOUGH i just actually thought about it for a moment and. if we're being real here? jenny would choose to stay. so that's probably also important. i think there could be something really compelling about giles trying to Make This Choice on her behalf that we as the viewers have been shown is actually a pretty damn good choice, and she knuckles down and goes "counterpoint: i love you enough to want to die all over again." which is insane and deranged and i don't know whether i actually would want them to end this together or not. but that does reflect my general feelings about g/j, on occasion.
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khruschevshoe · 4 months
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My Hot-Take/Controversial Ranking of Doctor Who Seasons (excluding specials bc my special order is really unhinged)
3 > 1 > 10 > 4 > 5 > 8 > 11 > 12 > 9 > 7b > 2 > 6 > 13 = 7a
Disclaimer: I have favorite episodes that come from every single season on this list, including 7a. For example, even though Season 6 is low on the list, the God Complex, Almost People/Rebel Flesh, and Impossible Astronaut are some of my favorite of the show. I do really love the Power of Three. These are based on season arc/average feeling per episode/rewatchability on a subjective level.
#doctor who#listen seasons 1 and three are basically perfect television for me#season 10 is one of the most fun of the show and bill is my second favorite companion and I love the twelve/missy arc#season 4 is full of banger after banger and journey's end slaps it just doesn't quite hit for me personally like seasons 1 3 and 10 do#season 5 has some episodes i don't like (victory of the daleks for example) but the fairytale vibes/beast below/amy's choice/big bang SLAP#Season 8 has some great episodes/good arc but i just really don't vibe with how cruel the Doctor is sometimes/Danny deserved better#Season 11 (other than fucking kerblam) i really enjoy! it has some weak writing in places but i love graham&ryan's arc & the smaller vibes#Season 12 is objectively better than season 11 but has weaker character arcs and some weaker episodes so eh#season 9 has one of the best finales in the show/some fun two-parters (i adore under the lake/before the flood) but the arcs feel off#7b is...fun & i like a lot of the episodes but i don't like the name/day/time of the doctor & it drags it down + clara's not fleshed out#season 2 is so good in places (cybermen 2-parter/school reunion/new earth) but has so many weak episodes & not as much character developmen#season 6...I love some episodes but I DESPISE the pregnancy arc/let's kill hitler/wedding of river song & how little agency Amy & river hav#season 13 is just...FINE. I enjoy some of the side characters (vinder bel karvanista) but the flux itself felt weirdly...boring? no emotion#(Jodie was SO GOOD in this season though btw)#and season 7a...asylum of the daleks dinosaurs on a spaceship & angels take manhattan are on my least favorite episodes list. like bottom 1#and I'm sorry but a town called mercy and power of three can't save that#amy and rory should have left with the god complex/christmas special and popped back like martha did in season 4#i said what i said#wow i really went off in the tags on this one#meta#rankings
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roosterforme · 5 months
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The Younger Kind Part 44 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley swallows his pride and seeks out a conversation with Admiral Simpson, but he's surprised by the response he gets. You keep everyone on their toes, and you do it so effortlessly, Bradley knows it's time to go shopping. And he uses Skittles as the perfect cover.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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When Bradley parked at work a little early on Monday, he sat in the Bronco for a few extra minutes. He had just witnessed you and Noah making breakfast together, and it was making it really hard to be away from you right now. When he walked into the kitchen, you were brewing coffee and singing the dinosaur song with his son while the two of you spread that weird avocado stuff that you liked so much on some toast. He had started to love it, too, and Noah would eat anything you made. 
He removed his aviators and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much he wanted to get done this week, including looking at a few engagement rings, but he knew better than to make any sort of excuses to get some time alone. That had nearly backfired on him when he went to get Skittles. He was going to have to get creative somehow.
When he pulled out his phone to call the animal shelter about getting Skittles' cast removed, he froze. Across the parking lot, Nat and Javy were both getting out of his car. "Interesting," he muttered to himself as he watched his best friend groping their coworker, and he grimaced. He'd already seen too much. 
"Hello, this is the San Diego shelter. How can I help you?"
Bradley nearly dropped his phone; he'd forgotten he was making the call. "Yeah, hi. I need to schedule an appointment to have my dog's cast removed?"
"Oh! Are you talking about the Yorkie?"
He smiled as he climbed out onto the already hot pavement. "Yeah. Skittles. I'm hoping she has sufficiently healed."
"Why don't you stop in on Wednesday and we can check her out."
"Sounds good, thanks," he replied, following Nat and Javy at a very conservative distance. But apparently he wasn't cautious enough. 
"So," Nat sighed once Bradley joined her in the hangar, "you saw Javy and I in the parking lot." It wasn't a question, so he decided to just nod and roll his eyes in response. "Oh, come on, Rooster. I'm just having some fun."
"Look at him," Bradley muttered, glancing to where the man in question was smiling at Nat. "Are you serious right now? You want to make him cry or something?"
Now she was the one rolling her eyes. "I'm not taking advice from you. You're historically terrible at dating."
"I'm doing a pretty good job now," he said, smiling as he thought about you.
"You can't even get Cyclone off your girl."
Bradley covered his face with one big palm. "You noticed that?"
Nat laughed. "Everyone at the botanic gardens on Saturday night noticed that."
"Fuck," he groaned. "If she wasn't so young and so fucking hot, I wouldn't be about to embarrass myself by trying to get him to let me fly in the air show."
She just shook her head as she reached for her helmet and muttered, "Oh, cry me a river."
"Hey." Bradley turned just in time to see Javy greeting the two of them like a puppy looking for Nat's attention. He was honestly worse than Skittles at the moment. "The guys are talking about a beach day this weekend. You know, since the summer is ending."
"We don't need to do another beach day. We live in San Diego," Nat replied as she sipped the coffee she wasn't supposed to have inside the hangar. "It's the same season all year round."
Javy laughed like she was a comedian, and Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them, completely baffled by this dynamic. There's no way you and he made a couple this wild. 
"Yeah, but it's still the end of August," Javy said, now smiling at Nat as if she was the most adorable thing in the world. "Rooster, you can bring your girl and your kid. It'll be fun."
"You know what," he replied, "I think I'll go if Nat goes."
Then Bradley strolled away as they started arguing, because he saw Admiral Simpson on his way to the tower. He just needed to get Cyclone alone for a few minutes, swallow his pride, and try to head Jake off for the air show. The opportunity arose after lunch when Bradley caught him checking his phone outside the rec room door.
"Admiral Simpson, sir," he greeted before grinding his back teeth while he thought about you. "May I have a word?"
Cyclone glanced up before pocketing his phone, a look of vague amusement on his face. "Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"
"It's about the upcoming air show. Sir. I was hoping you could tell me if you'd made selections regarding who would be flying in it."
His look of amusement grew. "I have not. I believe that was on my agenda for today or tomorrow." He paused before adding, "I've been meaning to thank you for that glass of bourbon on Saturday night. Woodford Reserve is one of my favorites."
Bradley remained unflinching. Although he had no idea what Admiral Simpson was talking about, he thought it better to simply agree with him. "Yes. The Woodford Reserve." 
He nearly took a step backwards when the other man started laughing. "You'll have to thank your girlfriend for me, too. And I'm assuming the reason you're here is because you want to fly in the air show?"
"Yes...sir," Bradley replied slowly, feeling very off balance now that Cyclone was being so agreeable. 
Still chuckling, he said, "I'll see what I can do," before turning and walking away. 
Once he was out of earshot, Bradley pushed through the door to the rec room as he muttered, "What the fuck was that?"
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It was almost fun for you to pick Noah up from daycare now. Not that you would ever admit that out loud. But the enjoyment you found in the way Casey pouted at you was a bit of a guilty pleasure, and besides, you got to have Noah greet you like you were the most exciting and interesting person in the world.
"Mommy!" he called out as he ran across the lobby and into your arms. "Guess what my craft is!"
"A dinosaur?" you asked as you shot an extremely fake smile at Casey before heading outside.
"Nope."
"A... dog? Did you make Skittles?" you asked as you put him in your car.
"Nope."
"The solar system?"
"Nope."
"Hmm. Will you give me a hint?" you asked, brushing his soft curls away from his forehead and giving him a kiss. But he was already unzipping his bag and pulling out his newest painting. There was a big, light blue shape that looked like it could have been Bradley's Bronco along with a man who appeared to be sporting a mustache. "Is that Daddy?"
"Yes!"
Then you noticed a little brown blob. "Is that Skittles?"
"Yes! She's his best friend!"
You laughed, because Noah wasn't wrong. Skittles seemed to love Bradley the most, and as much as he tried to fight it, the dog won him over. "She is," you agreed before buckling him in. "She's his best friend besides Aunt Natasha."
Noah shook his head. "She doesn't count, because she's an Aunt."
"Right, right," you said, not wanting to fight his childhood logic when Skittles wasn't even a human. "You're completely right. Should we go home?"
You started singing the dinosaur song as you drove, and because of a detour, you had to drive past the park where Meredith had chased you down. A shiver rippled through your body as you remembered falling and scraping up your arm in your haste to get Noah safely in your car. You hated coming home this way. There was a reason you never did it.
"Mommy, why did you stop singing?"
You glanced in the mirror at Noah's face. "Sorry! Where were we? The part about how the dinosaur stomp, stomp, stomps?"
Bradley was already home when you pulled into the driveway, and you found him dozed off on the couch with Skittles curled up on his chest. Two seconds later, he was jolting awake with the dog in his hand as Noah ran for him. "Daddy! I made you! Out of paint!"
"Cool," Bradley told him, pulling Noah onto his broad chest as well. "And how's Mommy?" he asked, his voice a little raspier just for you. "How was your day, Princess?"
You shook off the last remaining thoughts of Casey and Meredith as you leaned down to kiss him. "Pretty good." He chased your lips for more, but his arms were too full of Noah and Skittles for him to be able to reach for you. "Looks like you're still tired from the weekend," you said with a wink.
"I had a nice conversation with Cyclone today." 
"Oh? About what?" you asked as you started to head to the kitchen to make dinner. 
His expression remained completely neutral as he told you, "Bourbon. Woodford Reserve, to be specific." When you said nothing, he added, "We can chat about it later."
So you made spaghetti, knowing you'd been found out. You had been tipsy on Saturday night at the retirement party, but you were pretty sure you remembered what you did. Probably. You hoped Bradley wasn't mad at you over it, but he seemed to be in a good mood as he ate dinner and offered to give Noah a bath while you walked Skittles. 
She was stubborn for you at first, plopping down on the front porch and whimpering for Bradley while you tugged gently on her leash. "Come on. You're making me look bad! You were my idea. Mine and Noah's." When she remained in her spot, you had to reach into your pocket and say, "Treat?" That did the trick, and you got her to take a slow lap around the block with you while you broke a milkbone into little bites and gave it to her. 
When you returned home, Skittles bounded into the house to get to Bradley where he was sitting on the bathroom floor, looking comically enormous with Noah's rubber duck in his hand. You stood in the doorway and watched him automatically reach down to pet the little pup, taking caution with her casted leg while he rinsed the shampoo out of Noah's hair. 
"You want to go to the beach this weekend, Bub?" he asked softly. "With Aunt Natasha?"
"Can Skittles come?" Noah asked, and you watched Bradley place a soft kiss on his wet forehead that left you reeling. Suddenly you couldn't wait for Noah to be in bed so you could have him all to yourself. 
"Maybe. If she gets her cast off on Wednesday," he replied softly as the dog fully plopped down with her head on his thigh. 
"Daddy?" you asked from your spot in the doorway. It was almost a whine, and when he looked up at you, you were certain he knew what you were thinking about by the little smirk on his lips.
He reached into the tub to drain the water as he asked, "Do you need some attention?"
You just nodded, still in your scrubs from work, but you felt too warm now as you pressed your thighs together. "Yes."
"Fifteen minutes, and then you can have it," he replied with an edge to his voice. "Can you wait that long?"
"I can try," you murmured before you turned to go into Noah's room and get his dinosaur pajamas ready. Anything to expedite bedtime. You listened while Bradley took his time reading three stories, and then you kissed Noah's forehead before you tried to pull Bradley toward the hallway.
He chuckled and whispered, "I'll meet you on the couch."
"Oooh, the couch," you said before running from the room. Before you could even decide what you wanted to do, Bradley was behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and tickling your neck with his mustache.
"I kind of miss those nights when I would help you study."
You moaned softly. "Anatomy really is your specialty."
You felt him pull his right hand away from your body, but before you could complain, it reappeared in front of you with a bag of Skittles on his palm. When you spun in his arms and kissed him, you whispered, "You're so sweet."
Bradley lifted you up and took you the few steps to the couch where you settled in straddling his lap while you opened your candy. "If you're this excited about something I picked up at the gas station, I wonder what you'll do if I buy you something a little more expensive."
You met his soft eyes and leaned in to kiss him. "How much more expensive are we talking?" you asked, treating him to the orange Skittle you pulled out of the bag. He parted his lips and you slipped it between them, watching his jaw work as he chewed it up. 
"A lot more expensive," he replied as you ate three candies. "Hey, this is a 50/50 relationship here, Princess."
You shoved a small handful into his mouth and kissed his cheeks as he sputtered and chewed. "I'll share everything I have with you. Too bad I don't have much."
Bradley swallowed down the treat and reached for your free hand. "You give me everything I need. Everything I want, too."
You basked in the warmth of his words as your eyes closed, and a welcome heat crept into your cheeks. "I love you."
"Then I think you'll love what I'm planning on buying for you," he whispered as his mustache grazed your chin and jaw. 
You grinned, hoping you already knew what he was talking about, but too afraid to say it out loud. So you pushed the thought from your mind and scooted a little closer toward him on his lap. "What's this I'm hearing about a beach day? And Skittles getting her cast off? This is all news to me."
He didn't miss a beat as he wrapped his big hands around your hips and said, "What's this I'm hearing about some bourbon at the retirement party? It's all news to me."
"Oh," you whispered softly before eating more Skittles, buying yourself a little time to think. "Well, you see... I wasn't exactly sober."
"You're joking," he deadpanned. 
You rolled your eyes and shoved more candy into his mouth. "I may have had a glass of bourbon sent over to Admiral Simpson, courtesy of Lieutenant Bradshaw and his girlfriend..."
After a few quiet blinks, Bradley's head tipped back in laughter so loud that Skittles the pup came running into the room. "You didn't!" Bradley said. "I have to work with that man!" 
"Somebody had to make the big move, Daddy! It cleared the tension!"
He met your eyes, still shaking his head and smirking. "It also made you look like Daddy's good little girl."
Your heart skipped around in your chest at his words, and you set your candy aside in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. "Am I not? Daddy's good little girl?"
"Oh, you absolutely are," he replied as he lifted your top inch by inch. "I just never thought my boss's boss would see it that way." 
You raised your hands up in the air, eager to lose your shirt, but he took his sweet time about it. "Daddy."
"You can be patient," he whispered, smiling when he saw your purple bra. "Pretty." Your top dropped to the floor as he cupped you through the lace, finding your nipples right away. "You feel like going to the beach on Saturday?"
Bradley's lips found the tops of your breasts, and you could no longer formulate real words. You just hummed in response already knowing he was going to take expert care of you right now and on Saturday as well.
"You could wear your purple bikini and tell all the other guys to fuck off," he said as he ran his nose softly along your skin while he unhooked your bra and let it fall next to your top. 
"Would you like that?" you asked as your fingers tangled up in his hair. He answered you by nodding as he took your nipple between his lips. Bradley was all big hands on your bare skin and just the perfect amount of roughness. "Oh god," you whined. 
And then he had you on your back in the middle of the area rug with his body over yours. His thigh was rubbing you through your thin pants, and you bucked up gently against him as his heavy weight pressed deliciously against your body. "I love you," he grunted as you tugged at his hair. 
"I love you so much, Daddy," you gasped as he yanked your pants and underwear down and off, leaving you in only your socks. He fumbled with the front of his pants for just a few seconds before pulling his length free, and you spread your legs wide for him.
His lips and tongue were wet on your neck as you held him close, lost in the domesticity of having sex here now. Just like your first time with him. Right next to the snag in the rug. But this time you could hear Skittles' claws tapping across the kitchen floor, and you could see some of Noah's crayons that had rolled under the couch while Bradley fucked you. You could smell the lingering scent of the pasta sauce from the dinner you made. You could taste Bradley's now familiar tongue as it met yours. And you could feel his rough hands on your hips and belly where he'd now touched you hundreds of times. 
You fell in love with the flood of familiarity he brought to your senses, and it left you smiling up at him when he broke the kiss. "Jesus," he grunted, cupping one cheek in his hand. You kissed the side of his thumb as he stroked your skin, and you watched him slowly come undone for you. "I'll get you there," he promised, changing his angle so he rubbed your clit with each movement.
Just like the first time, he filled you up as soon as you came, and your name was all over his lips as you smiled at the lost crayons before closing your eyes. Bradley collected you against his body as he eased himself down onto his side, and you sighed contentedly. You held onto his wrist as he ran his hand along your hair and kissed you. In that moment you would have agreed to anything he said. 
"Baby, I'll be a little late on Wednesday night. I have to take Skittles to get her cast off, and then I need to stop at the store."
You hummed softly in response, pressing your lips to his. "Sounds good."
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The only time Bradley heard from you on Wednesday was when you told him that one of your patients came in with an emergency, and you wanted to let him know you'd be helping Dr. Kelly with a minor surgical procedure. He was excited for you, but he didn't want to bother you. Even though he had good news.
"Congrats," Jake drawled in the locker room after a very long day of flying. "Don't know how you managed to pull this one off, but I heard you're flying in the air show."
Bradley ran his towel over his chest before tossing it into his locker. "Thanks," he grunted, trying not to smile. He'd be able to take you on the tour of the hospital with him, and then you and Noah could watch him fly. His son had never seen him in the air before, and it gave Bradley goosebumps knowing that the two of you would be able to do that together. 
Jake gave him one last appraising look before he got dressed. Honestly, it was probably the fact that you upped the ante with Cyclone that Bradley was chosen over the others. Perhaps now things could be called even. You managed to keep everyone on their toes in the best way, and it made him smile even now. 
You were in rare form this week, luring him in for living room floor sex when there was a perfectly new bed in the bedroom. And then last night, you got him to watch a Disney princess movie with you, even after Noah was in bed, and Bradley had begrudgingly enjoyed it. You were laying across his lap on your back when the end credits rolled, and you said, "If you're a good boy, I'll make you beignets just like Princess Tiana."
Bradley had smirked. "Do those have cream filling?"
"No," you whispered as he eased your shirt up so his palm was flat on your belly. 
"Do you want some?" 
He had been thinking about getting you pregnant as he made you bury your face in the couch pillows to keep you quiet.
And that was just one of the many reasons he was about to leave work and head home to grab Skittles before stopping at the jewelry store across town. If Casey managed to bump into there and ruin this surprise as well, he would probably lose his mind. But the jeweler near the animal shelter was one of the best in the city, so that was where he would go. 
Bradley awkwardly held Skittles while he drove, and eventually she curled up with her head on his thigh while he sat in traffic. She seemed to be doing great, so he hoped that was a good sign that the cast could come off. You and Noah were delighted with her, and she somehow made Bradley fall in love, too. 
"Yeah, you're sweet," he told her, scratching her behind the ears while he drove. He parallel parked the Bronco with one hand while he continued to pet her, and when he took her inside the shelter, he held onto her a little tighter. It was hard to believe she'd been here just a few weeks ago, completely unwanted. 
Bradley pressed kisses to the top of her head as he waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call. When she hung up, she asked, "And who do we have here?"
"Skittles Bradshaw," he replied, nuzzling his nose against her fur and wondering how on earth he had gotten so attached to this little pup. "Hopefully she can get her cast off today."
He only had to wait a few minutes, and then he watched as they examined her before cutting into the cast plaster. Once she was free, Skittles took a few tentative steps across the exam table, and then she jumped right back into Bradley's arms. 
After he paid the monstrous bill for such a small creature, he carried her down the sidewalk, enjoying the cooling temperature as the sun set. When he checked his phone, he saw that you'd finally texted him again.
My Princess: Noah and I are going to play at the park near the beach. Leftovers when you get home?
He typed out a quick message letting you know that sounded perfect. Thoughts of you and Noah together filled his mind as he entered the jewelry store, and two women looked up at him and Skittles. "Is it okay if I have her in here?" he asked, but they both immediately rushed over, practically screeching about how cute his dog was. Honestly, the pet would have probably worked out better than the dating app had for him.
"What are you looking for?" the first woman asked as she petted Skittles on her head. 
A soft smile made its way to his lips as he said, "An engagement ring."
"Oh! Of course, let's just head over here to see what you like best. Do you have anything specific in mind?"
Bradley followed behind her as he nodded and said, "A princess cut diamond."
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A princess for a Princess. Also, there is no way Skittles wouldn't be a magnet for all the ladies. A big man with a small dog... just fuck. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 45
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
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@wintercap89
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rongzhi · 1 year
Text
The 6533 from Daliangshan
English added by me :)
Video transcript:
In the depths of Daliangshan, I got on a green-skin train. In the beginning, I didn’t think there was anything different here. It wasn’t until I discovered the ticket price was so low it was ridiculous. At the cheapest, it was only 2 yuan (0.29 usd). The whole journey was 400 km, which was only 26.50.
This place and the train from my memory wasn’t quite the same.
Climbing on required using a super tall platform. Some people were carrying beilous. Some people were wearing pretty ethnic folk dress. And there was also an Yi apo doing sewing work.
It wasn’t until a girl carrying a rooster walked by me that my mind filled with thoughts.
Are all the pets here so unusual?
Later, a da-jie was getting on, and I gave her a hand. I discovered there were a lot of chickens and eggs. If there are chickens, could the ducks be far away?
As expected, their song sound resonated from the front.
I was a little curious: what other mysterious animals were there around?
This sheep was truly impolite, and da-ge was put in a temper from being dragged around. Using the strength of 9 cows and 2 tigers, he finally sent it into the bathroom.
I wonder if it will dream of the plumber Mario here…
Finally, there was only a celestial dog over here, bobbing its head.
Oh right, I must hurry and tell a train attendant: the villager’s pigs have pooped in the train car again.
Fortunately the train attendant told me the pigs and the dog were bought to be taken back and raised. The chickens, ducks, and sheep are being taken to the county seat to be sold. They’re all passengers on the train.
In order to convenience the fellow villagers’ bulk cargo, each train car has a row of seats taken out. It’s hard to imagine that the storage room here could be so excessive.
The train also has a few study cars specifically made for students coming and going.
The mountains and rivers outside gradually grew distant. Those in the train car speedily wrote across their papers.
The students here were innocent and unaffected toward the camera.
["You’re very adorable!"]
The girl bashfully told me that she was in middle school.
["Third year of junior high."]
The boy shared his last sunflower seeds with me.
The Yi villagers’ standard mandarin wasn’t too fluent. She only knew one line:
["I don’t understand what you’re saying."]
However the students were able to teach me.
["'Kashasha' means thank you (in Yi)!" "Kashasha!"]
They take this train back home on Fridays and take the train back to school on Sunday.
Seeing the smiles on their lips, I finally realised: this train is what they depend on from elementary school to high school. This is her special study car. And it’s the train that brings him wealth. Even more so, it’s the slow train to lift them out of poverty.
This is the 6533 train that passes through Daliangshan.
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ellalalala · 18 days
Text
By your name (all the stars, rivers, cities)
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Akademiya! Zandik is probably my favorite version of Dottore but also one that I really struggle to write. If he's ooc here, close your eyes <3 Not proofread lol out of sight out of mind Fluff, mutual pining inspired by one of my favorite songs - Твоим именем by Svidaniye Also on AO3
You prayed he didn't notice the trembling of your hands.
Zandik hadn't spoken a word to you since he opened his leather-bound journal, opting instead to sketch the ruin golem that was nestled between the tall hills of Ardravi Valley. You'd robbed yourself of the privilege of observing him in his element; the close proximity between the two of you made you nervous. It felt dangerous to observe your surroundings, to move your limbs, and so you sat frozen beside him, afraid that Zandik would become suspicious of you.
The reason for your shyness was clear as day: Zandik had never allowed you to come this close before, always rejecting your goodwill with the apprehension of someone who had only ever known cruelty. But now, the blanket you sat on was barely big enough to fit both of you, and Zandik didn't seem to mind; not the way your thighs touched, nor the way your shoulders bumped. You imagined that his soft curls would brush against your cheek if he were to turn his head to the side - and that thought only served to fluster you even more.
How is he so calm, you wondered, when we've never been this close before?
You were frustrated with yourself. So much time had been spent by his side - studying, drinking coffee, wandering the lush expanses of the rainforest - yet you still felt deeply, indescribably nervous. Anxiety sank into your bones and jumbled your mind; you knew why, had known for weeks, but it was impossible to accept. How could you?
Your focus shifted to the Sumeru rose in your hand. Zandik picked it for you on your way to your favorite picnic spot - the hill that overlooked Vimara village - and said the simple words, "for your book". You accepted the flower with a polite "thank you", heart fluttering in your chest when he gave you a faint smile - the sight forever etched in your mind.
It was meant to be pressed between the pages of your favorite book. You didn't have the heart to do it, though; damaging a rose given to you by Zandik felt wrong. Even if his actions carried no underlying implications, it didn't matter. You wanted to keep it. Once you returned to your dorm, you would place this delicate rose in a small vase and ensure it survived a few more days.
You twirled it between your fingers. A little more time and this embarrassment would end. Zandik would forget you behaved this way, engrossed in his research, and you would be the sole person to carry the burden of remembering every second you spent fiddling with the hem of your shirt, too shy to move from the spot beside your friend.
Friend. The word tasted sour in your mouth.
"You're eerily quiet today," said Zandik, "what's the matter?"
This time, you had no choice but to look at him. Zandik had long finished drawing. The journal lay on his lap, open to reveal a surprisingly detailed illustration of the ruin golem across the river. Your breath nearly hitched when your eyes met Zandik's.
"I'm fine. Just thinking."
You felt small under his gaze; he observed you as if you were something interesting - one of those ruin mechanisms that he so adored. You couldn't take it.
You pointed at his journal, "the drawing turned out so well."
"It's a simple sketch, really. But that ruin golem lying ahead... it is the pinnacle of human wisdom. Isn't it awe-inspiring?"
His ruby eyes glimmered with excitement; the sort that only awakened when Zandik spoke about his interests. It warmed your heart - it always did - but this time, the close proximity between your faces was enough to make you blush.
You smiled, "yes, it is."
"I am set to join an investigation team as a trainee dastur soon," Zandik said, "we will conduct field research near that golem. If I'm lucky, we'll even study its interior..."
He gazed ahead, no doubt imagining the discoveries he would make. This was what he lived for - refining his understanding of the world around him, its inner workings. You would never be...
Stupid, stupid thoughts. Weren't you just his friend?
"You'll have to tell me all about it," you said. That was appropriate. That wouldn't raise any questions. Zandik loved to talk about his research and he loved to talk about it with someone who cared. You just so happened to care more than anyone.
Zandik looked at you with newfound delight. It all came back to you then: the proximity between the two of you, the rose in your hand, his smile. How were you supposed to understand any of this? When his arm brushed against yours, his thigh pressed against your own and his lips were only inches away from yours - how would a stranger look at this?
Doesn't matter, you thought, because it means nothing. He's just my friend.
"A pity you can't join."
Not the words you expected to hear from Zandik, of all people. Your brain must have short-circuited, for you couldn't form a single coherent thought as you watched him casually put his journal away like he hadn't just...
Your cheeks tinted red. A cruel voice in your head told you that Zandik would definitely miss you, think of you whenever you weren't by his side.
"Well, a Rtawahist student has no use in field research..." you mumbled, making Zandik huff in amusement.
"It has nothing to do with your darshan."
A thousand different thoughts swarmed in your head. "Then what?"
He didn't give his answer just yet. Zandik chose to inspect you once more as if to fluster you - and though it worked exceedingly well, you couldn't bring yourself to look away, captivated by his boyish charm.
Zandik looked so utterly serene; olive skin bathed in the soft light of the evening sun, soft cyan hair tousled by the warm breeze. The corners of his thin lips were tilted upwards in a roguish smirk, and your poor, frail heart was threatened to give out. It still made no sense to you: how anyone could look at Zandik and see a monster.
He exhaled softly, "your behavior these past few weeks was puzzling. My initial assumption was that you had grown to fear me, just like the others..." Zandik reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your jawline, "but the answer has become a bit clearer now."
Your breath hitched. He knew. He knew the truth, had guessed it long ago, and you - ever the fool - were oblivious all along.
"I'm sorry," you murmured, ashamed beyond compare; for even with the possibility of your feelings being unrequited, you reveled in the way his fingertips warmed your skin.
"Sorry? I never said you had to be sorry."
Zandik sat impossibly close. He cupped your cheek and watched you melt into his touch.
"But it's a bother, isn't it?" You asked, to which Zandik blinked owlishly before chuckling - a saccharine melody that you wanted to keep in your memory forever.
He gazed at you fondly, in a way he never had before, "would I keep spending my time with you if I thought you were a bother?"
"I guess not," you breathed, painfully aware of the tiny distance between the two of you. It felt unreal; you doubted you fully comprehended his words, lost in Zandik's touch as you were.
You could kiss him. The idea baffled you, making the words ring in your head, over and over, I can kiss him, I can kiss him, I can kiss him.
By the looks of it, Zandik had similar thoughts but enough self-control to hold back. You, on the other hand, lacked the courage to go through with your idea, and so you sat basking in his tender touches like you would never feel them again.
You couldn't ask for anything more, anyway.
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monzabee · 1 year
Text
baby honey – al12
masterlist
Summary: The one where Arthur swears he’s not thinking about you, his best friend, all the time – just today, yesterday, and tomorrow night.
Pairing: arthur leclerc x reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: angst, unreciprocated feelings (that turn into reciprocated feelings), hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, being drunk, idiots to lovers, denial is a river in egypt, charles and his big brain, miscommunication, mentions of drunk driving (don’t drink and drive!), jealousy jealousy, cying, google translate French!
Request: “after reading ur newest cl16 fic i want one where reader always liked charles but he gets a gf and she ends up with arthur (who’s her bff?? bffs to lovers 🤔) just a lot of hurt comfort” + “Hi! Can I please request ballerina!reader with either Charles or Arthur, you can choose to write it or do it as a smau, thank you!” + “can you please write something with Arthur + size/height difference?”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it is time for the debut of arthur my beloved on this blog. i LOVED all of the requests for this one! i was originally going to name this fic after another taylor song (wink, wink), but then i was listening to baby honey by harry styles and something just clicked, so i hope you guys also agree with me. if anyone is wondering, this is an unreleased song from his first self-titled album. i know the request was a bit different, with reader having feelings for charles first, but i think changing it a little bit and having miscommunication made it a bit deeper. so thank you, anons, for these requests, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Arthur has a problem when it comes to you – and that is not being able to say the word ‘no’. This has put him in some very interesting positions in the past, but whatever happens, it just seems that Arthur is not able to mutter out the word ‘no’ when you ask him of something. It’s always been that way, he supposes. He was never able to deny you when you looked at him with the look in your eyes, and he still can’t to this day. When you call him to ask if he wants to come to a party with you? He’s out the door before you tell him the location. When you suddenly have the urge to watch Barbie movies from your childhood? He brings the popcorn and even sings along to some of the songs he knows the words to. You were there for every one of his races before he got the opportunity to travel around the world to drive on the same tracks his brother and even the legends in the sports did. He came to every one of your ballet recitals until you graduated, and he was kind enough to buy you a bouquet of your favourite flowers each time. Although this might be the situation, the relationship you and Arthur have are based on equal grounds – meaning that you love and adore him just as he does you. It’s one of relationships you value the most in your life, the two of you having each other’s back since a very young age, and it is a relationship that you don’t ever want to lose. So, when the time came for both of you to move out of your parents’ houses, it came as no surprise for anyone that you two decided to move in together. Arthur wanted to spend his free time, when he wasn’t racing, with you as much as possible, and you were just happy to be with your best friend. 
Though he’s always been protective over you and it is nothing new, Arthur can’t help but worry every time you go out on a date with a new guy. In reality, he knows you and Patrick have been going out for a while. You’ve told him about Patrick a few times when you called him when he was away for races, and he’s met the guy, but there’s a feeling he just can’t seem to shake off. 
“Are you sure you want to go on this date?” Arthur asks behind the door to your bedroom. 
You groan when the earring you’re trying to get stuck in your hair. “For the millionth time, Arthur, I’m sure.” You check yourself in the mirror for the last time before grabbing your handbag and opening you door to come face to face with a worried face. “Why are you so stressed over this?” You ask him, rummaging through the handbag in your hand to find your lipstick. 
“I’m not stressed, poupette.” doll. Arthur scoffs, watching you with a stern look on your face. “I’m just making sure you’re feeling up to going out tonight.” 
“I’m feeling fine, ma moitié, my other half, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure him with a sweet smile on your face while playfully patting his chest. “Stop acting like this, you look like your mother.” 
“Fine, then, you look like my mother.” You shrug as Arthur rolls his eyes. Loud cackles coming from the living room suddenly grabs both of your attention, making you smile even wider. “Lorenzo, Charles, hi!” 
The two brothers sitting in your living room gives you bright smiles and Hellos. Charles gives you a glance, eyebrows raised as he asks, “Aren’t you going to be cold without a jacket?” 
“You’re not taking a jacket?” A voice exclaims from behind, making you roll your eyes as you point towards Arthur with the tilt of your head. 
“You happy?” You ask while raising your eyebrows. “A jacket doesn’t go with my dress.” You explain, expectantly looking at the older driver as you open your arms and pointing to the dress. 
“Uh, sure, Y/N.” Charles nods in thought. 
Lorenzo hits the back of his brother’s head lightly, shaking his head towards him as he speaks to you. “I think you look lovely, have a good night.” 
“Thank you, Enzo!” You beam, walking towards the front door as you yell. “Arthur I’m leaving, don’t wait up!” At the mention of his name, Arthur comes running towards the front door, reminding you that you can call him at any point during the night if you feel uncomfortable, which in return you assure him you’ll be fine and leave after giving him a kiss on the cheek. 
He sighs deeply as he watches you leave the apartment, and only realises both of his brothers watching him with funny expressions after he closes the door and turns back with the jacket still in his hands. “What?”
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“So,” Charles begins when all three of them are sitting on the couch in your living room, getting ready to play a round of FIFA. “How long have you been crushing on Y/N, again?” 
Arthur groans, his face contorting up in a grimace. “Not this again, Charles.” 
“No, he has a point.” Lorenzo mumbles, siding with his brother. “You’ve had a crush on her since you were seven, Arthur.” 
“Exactly!” Charles exclaims, pointing to Arthur excitedly. “Why haven’t you done something about it yet?” 
“Because she is my best friend, you idiots.” Arthur shakes his head, choosing to focus on the game which just started on the screen instead of insistent look Charles and Lorenzo give him. “And, stop saying I have a crush on her.” 
Charles lets out a disapproving sound as he, too, turns towards the game. “Friends don’t look at each other like that.” 
“We look each other normally.” 
“You look like you want to make love to her every time you look at her.” Charles shrugs, making both his older and younger brother turn to him with disgusted looks on their faces. 
“Charles!” Arthur complains. “No!”
“Please don’t ever use the words 'make love' in the same sentence as Arthur and Y/N.” Lorenzo begs, grabbing the bridge of his nose.  
“Fine.” Charles shrugs, as he takes the opportunity to shoot his first goal. “But you can’t deny the fact that your overprotectiveness over Y/N doesn’t stem from your feelings for her. You’ve always been that way and it’s impossible for you to not feel something more for her.” 
Arthur frowns, not because he is losing by the third minute of the game, but because of Charles’ words. “We’ve been friends since we were babies, Charles, of course I’m protective over her.” 
“Which is understandable.” Lorenzo tries to reconciliate.
Charles lets out another disapproving mumble. “So you’d be okay with me asking her out?” 
“Excuse-moi?” Excuse me? Arthur looks at his brother, appalled. “You’re going to do what?” 
“Ask her out, Arthur. Would you be okay if I asked her out?” Charles repeats himself in a nonchalant manner, scoring another goal. 
“Of course not!” Arthur cries out. “Why would you ask her out anyway? She’s seeing Patrick.” 
Charles shrugs noncommittally. “She might break things off with him. You know, I always had a feeling she had a crush on me.” 
“Charles.” Lorenzo scolds his younger brother.
However, Arthur is busy going through every single interaction you’ve had with Charles over the years; trying to find some actuality to his brother’s words. He pauses the game to turn towards his brothers, his eyes angry as he looks at Charles with a locked jaw. “No, you cannot ask out my best friend, you porc!” pig.
“Why?” He asks, with a fake innocent look on his face.
“Because, firstly, she is not a pawn you can use to prove something to me in some messed up game. And, two, she is mybest friend, my roommate and my–” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he knows how he would end the sentence if he would – which makes him think for a moment that his brothers just might be right.
“Okay, then.” Charles concedes, unpausing the game and taking advantage of the confused state Arthur is in to score, yet, another goal. 
Though the game is going on, Arthur can’t seem to focus on it because he is too busy thinking about you, and whether he’s been in love with you his entire life.
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It’s a couple weeks later when Arthur walks through the doors of the ballet studio you work at. He noticed over the few weeks that you’ve been down ever since you’ve stopped seeing Patrick, so he wanted to surprise you. He greets the old receptionist who works out in the front, giving her one of the tulips he got for you on his way there. When he gets in front of the classroom you usually teach in, he watches you with the kids as a soft smile find its way onto his face. He watches as you fix the techniques of some of the girls who are struggling, but instead of appearing upset, they are smiling as they try their best to fix their postures. When you move towards the old stereo on the corner of the room, he knows that the class is about to end – because something you do at the end of every class is letting the student dance freely to the music on the radio without giving them instructions. He watches as one of the smaller boys in the class shyly approach you, motioning you to bend to his height with his hand and then whisper something in your ear. You talk for a while, and he watches as the boy leaves with a smile on his face, which wasn’t there before, after giving you a hug and a small bouquet of flowers. Arthur waits until the class is over and all the kids have left the small studio to walk in. 
“I was wondering if you offered any private lessons?” He asks with a boyish smile on his face. 
You turn towards him, fast, when you hear your voice. Laughing as you cross the room and throw yourself into his waiting arms. “You couldn’t dance even if Marianela Núñez gave you dance classes herself, Turo.” 
“Well I don’t need classes from her,” Arthur rolls his eyes. “All I need is you.” 
You purse your lips, trying not to smile too widely, at the hidden meaning behind his words – the one which you somehow convince yourself that you’re imagining ever being there. Lightly leaning your head against Arthur’s chest, you begin talking. “You’re awfully sweet today, did you know that?” 
He presses a light kiss onto the crown of you head, mumbling in thought. “Well, I missed you because I was alone at home all day. So I thought I’d come surprise you.” Pulling away slowly, he gives you the bouquet of tulips he is holding. “Speaking of which.” 
“They look like the ones you used to get me after my recitals!” You squeal, taking the bouquet from his hand and inspecting it closely. “I love them, Arthur, thank you.” 
“I’m glad you liked them, poupette.” He smiles. “Although, it seems that I have some competition today.”
You smile and shrug at the mention of the other bouquet sitting next to your bag. “Oh, that’s Leon. Some of the older kids at school’s been bothering him because he’s taking ballet classes.” 
“You made him smile,” Arthur recalls, one of his hands cupping your cheek, which makes you look up to him. “Probably made his day, too.” 
“I hope so.” You tell him, honestly. “He seem to like the classes; I would hate to see him leave just because of bullies at school.” 
“You are a very good teacher, you know that?” Arthur murmurs, watching as a rosy colour takes over your cheeks. 
“Stop it.” You huff, trying to push him off of you in a faux attempt. “Did you come here to make me blush, ma moitié?” 
He shakes his head. “No, no. I thought we could go on a walk? At the marina, before it gets dark.” 
You pretend to think for a moment, but smile, nonetheless. “Can we also get burgers?” 
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Arthur tries to profess his feelings for you when the two of you go on your ‘date’, he really does. When he sits down and thinks about it, rationally, he can convince himself that you have feelings for him, just the way he does for you. He can see it in the way you glance up at him every time he makes a joke, or the way you lean into his touch every time he touches you, which is a lot. He thinks he sees something every time you end up too close to each other; even convinces himself that perhaps you are expecting a kiss with the way your eyes slide to his lips a couple of times. But every time he tries to force himself to kiss you or tell you how he feels, an apprehensive doubt takes over his entire brain, somehow convincing himself otherwise, that doing so would only end up in you two getting completely messing up your friendship.
There’s also a part of his brain which consistently reminds him that it is Charles you have feelings for and not him. He doesn’t have a reason why he came to this conclusion; you’ve never explicitly told him about having feelings for his older brother, but there’s a part of him that still clings to Charles’ words – even though he didn’t actually mean anything by them. So as any person his age, who is going through what he’s going through, he takes a step back to observe. It all starts when the two of you go out for grocery shopping. It’s not a common occurrence that Arthur accompanies you, mainly because he is on the road most of the time, but he tags along because “He doesn’t want you to carry the bags on your own.” The two of you are busy fighting over cereal when you run into Charles, who provides a solution by offering that you buy both of the boxes. While you tell him it is probably the only way you and Arthur are going to agree on the fact, he is too busy picking apart every part of the interaction to see whether there could be any possibility of you having any feelings for his brother. The worst of them come a few weeks later, when Arthur and Charles come back from a race. All four of you, including Lorenzo, are seated at your dining table, enjoying takeover pizza when Charles announces that he started to see a girl. You all congratulate him, but after the conversation dies down, Arthur notices a familiar look of longing in your eyes. And that’s when he realises that you have feelings for Charles, and not him, and he absolutely needs to get over his feelings for you before it blows up in his face. 
A couple of weeks later, one of his friends from racing invite you to a party. Arthur follows you, of course, because he doesn’t want you to go alone. He know it’s a terrible idea, though, once he sees you in the dress you chose for the party. It’s feels as if it’s impossible for him to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you. He manages to let out a strangled answer when you ask him if you look okay, “You look good, Y/N.” The smile you give him return is so sweet, that he suddenly remembers that he should schedule an appointment with his dentist when he has the time. Though he doesn’t manage to convince you to take a jacket with you, he picks up his own as a precaution. The party is in full swing by the time the two of you arrive, which you light-heartedly scold him because the two of you are late. He considers apologising at first, but when he sees the smile on your lips, he just lets you drag him towards the bar without any objections. 
“What do you want to drink?” You ask him, leaning over the bar to take a look at the limited menu. You know he wouldn’t want to drink if he was driving the two of you back home, but since you took an Uber to the night club, Arthur decides to drink as well. 
“I’ll have tequila.” He answers after looking at the menu thinking about it for a second, and then turns to you. “You want to do shots?” 
“Yes, please.” You nod, giving him your ‘prettiest’ smile. “Five?” 
“Three.” He shakes his head and gives you a stern look. “And no mixing alcohols, either.” 
You pout as you watch him order your drinks, your arms crossed over your chest pushing your breasts together. “You’re no fun.” 
Arthur’s eyes fall down to your chest for a moment but he promptly fixes his gaze up to yours, as he places his hand on your hip to draw you close to him. He leans down towards you to whisper in your ear, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?” 
You purse your lips, choosing to play with the buttons on his shirt as a distraction. “We haven’t gone out to party in a while, sue me for wanting to have fun.” 
“We will have fun.” Arthur contends as his thumb starts drawing circles on your hipbone. “Just not by doing something which will cause you to wake up hungover tomorrow.” 
You give him a sarcastic smile. “Hm, mon chevalier en armure brillante.” my knight in shining armour. You turn to the bartender who brings over your drinks. “Thank you.” 
Arthur eyes the bartender up and down, his look over quickly morphing into a side-eye once he realises where his eyes are looking at. He somehow pulls you closer to himself, caging you between himself and the bar, and lifts your chin up with two of his fingers to gaze into your eyes. “Be good, baby,” He tests. “Honey.” He warns. 
“I am always good.” You counter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion because of his sudden possessive streak. “Are you okay?” 
He waits until the bartender is tending to other customers to answer your question, his voice is in a lower octave but still somehow audible to you over the loud music in the club. “He was looking at your chest, poupette.”
“My boobs look great in this dress.” You reply while shrugging, the aloof look in your face making Arthur frown. “You didn’t need to act like a caveman, you know. The poor guy was probably scared.” 
“Well, it’s too late now.” He replies, aloof, and downs one of his shots. “Are we doing this or not?” 
It’s a bad idea, after all, tequila shots. Because after you’re done with the first three, you somehow convince Arthur that you need more, which means the both of you end up drinking six shots in the span of half-an hour. The bright side of this situation is that you convince Arthur to dance with you on the dancefloor, which he wouldn’t have done if he was sober. At some point throughout the night the two of you end up getting separated, which has you going around the night club looking for Arthur. You decide to ask some of his friends he introduced to you earlier, who tell you that he’s probably out taking some fresh air. He’s by himself outside of the club, leaning against a wall when you find him. 
“What are you doing here all alone?” You ask him, tilting your head sideways to take a good look at him. 
“It’s quieter out here,” Arthur shrugs, opening his arms and motioning you to come closer. “You’re going to freeze.” 
You find yourself in his arms in record time, not that you could say no to his hugs anyway, his sway making you frown. “Are you okay, Turo?”
He smiles lazily at the nickname as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m drunk, ne devrait probablement pas conduire.” probably shouldn't drive.
“It’s okay, I’ll order an Uber.” He keeps his arms around you as you busy yourself with your phone, entering the address of your apartment. 
Just like at the bar or when you were waiting for the Uber to arrive, Arthur doesn’t let you go completely when you’re in the backseat of the car. He makes you wear his jacket before you get into the car, though the oversized clothing doesn’t stop him from managing to make contact with your skin. He has a hand on your thigh, which is exposed because your dress keeps riding up. You make sure to keep an arm around him when you stumble through the door to your apartment. 
You tell him to wait for you in his room and that you’ll be right over after you take your heels; however, he responds by throwing you over his shoulder as he walks through the corridor which leads up to his room. “Arthur, you’re drunk, put me down!” 
“This doesn’t count as drunk driving.” He provides as an excuse, only putting you down when he enters his room – thankfully without any accidents. 
You sit on his bed to take of your heels just as he jumps onto it, making it teeter because of his movements and makes you laugh at him. Shrugging off the jacket he gave you, you walk towards his closet to hand up the garment before the two of you forget about it. Arthur watches you move around his room with dazed eyes, trying very hard not to laugh when he sees you struggling with the hangers and cursing under your breath. His eyes move down your body when you kneel to get to the last drawer to get out a pair of sweatpants for him, which makes him silently groan at the sight. You walk towards him when you get out the sweats and a shirt for him to change into, poking his stomach to make him sit up straight. “Take off your shirt.” 
“Are you trying to get me naked?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips. “At least take me out to dinner first.” 
“I cook you dinner all the time, Arthur.” You drawl, holding out the clothes for him to take. 
He takes them while mumbling, “And I try my best to eat and enjoy all your attempts.” 
“Casse toi, go away, asshole.” You snap, starting to walk out of the room. 
“Where are you going?” He calls out. 
You scoff, calling out back at him over your shoulder. “To get you water and Advil, you better be changed by the time I’m back or I’m putting you under the cold shower.” 
He is, thankfully, changed by the time you get back with a glass of water and the painkillers you promised, You place them onto his nightstand, and face him. “Off to bed, you go.” 
“Stay here tonight?” He asks you, but his voice is devoid of his previous playfulness.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, chéri.” You press a kiss against his cheek and then, feeling bold, you press another kiss to the beauty mark right above the corner of his lips. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”
Sleep doesn’t come easy that night, no matter how hard he tries to fall asleep. He keeps trying to convince himself to go to sleep, telling himself that the quicker he does, the quicker he’ll see you in the morning, but he is unable to do so. At some point in the night, he finds himself slipping through your door. He ends up slipping under your covers too, and pulls you against his chest, causing you to stir in your sleep as you cuddle his side. 
“Go back to sleep, honey.” He whispers as he closes his eyes, and he finally drifts off to sleep when he finally has you in his arms. 
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You’re sleeping on top of him when he wakes up the next morning with his face buried in your hair. Your closed eyes and even breathing indicates that you’re still asleep, which causes Arthur to do his best to stay still not to wake you up. He soaks up every moment of it until your eyes flutter open and you let out a low whine, asking, “Why are you in my bed? How’d you get here?” 
“I sneaked in.” He replies, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning, baby.”
“I’m loving the new nicknames; baby, honey?” You mumble, nuzzling your nose against his jaw. “Why’d you sneak in?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses with a strained look on his face, and then he announces. “You’re not my girlfriend.”
You pick up your head so quickly, you think you’re going to break your neck. “I’m aware of that fact, Arthur.” You manage to get out in a clipped voice. 
“And I should probably be thinking about protecting our friendship first, but I have to say this even though you have feelings for my brother.”
“Your brother?” You look at him with your mouth agape. “You think I have feelings for your brother? Lorenzo? He’s like my brother!”
He’s taken aback by your question. “No- not Lorenzo! Do you have a crush on Lorenzo?”
“No! You idiot, why would I have feelings for Lorenzo?” You ask him as you scramble to get off of him, letting yourself fall to the bed and pick up your pillow to hit Arthur over the head with. “I don’t have feelings for either of your brothers, other than being friends, you disgusting pig!” 
“You don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks you tentatively which earns him another hit on the head with the pillow. “Okay, would you please stop that?”
“No, I don’t have feelings for Charles, either! Oh my god, Arthur, what is wrong with you?” The look you give him reflect how much you’re hurt, your fingers occupy themselves with the edge of the pillowcase as you ask, “Do you honestly think I’d be in bed with you like that if I had feelings for your brother?”
He’s careful as he asks, “…No?” He lets out a frustrated groan as he pushes himself to get to a standing position. “I don’t know what to think, anymore. I like you so much that somehow you’ve taken over my entire brain!” 
“You… like me?” You ask him, breath hitching in your throat.
“No.” Comes his reply. 
“So, you don’t like me?” 
His hands grasp the roots of his hair. “No, I adore you, I am utterly infatuated by you, I am so besotted by you that every moment of my waking days are filled with the thoughts of you, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I even think about you when I’m on the track–” 
“Arthur, breathe.” You warn him, your hands quickly going over his to try and get them off.
“You really don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks in a small voice. You answer him by shaking your head, which prompts him to ask, “Then why were you sad when he announced he was seeing someone?”
“He told me you’d confess your feelings to me before he ever found someone to date for himself.” You shrug, the corners of your mouth dipping as if you’re trying to keep tears at bay. “I guess I somehow made myself believe you would.” 
“Baby–” He stops himself. “Honey, please don’t cry.” He reaches over you to wipe away some of the stray tears that have escaped your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I am stupid.”
“Very much so, yes.” You agree with him as you lean against his touch. “Though, I’m surprised you didn’t notice me flirting with you over the past year.” 
“You’ve been flirting me for a year?” He asks you, baffled. 
You fix him with an unamused look. “Do you think I go around talking about my boobs with everyone?”
“You better not be.” He scoffs as he draws you closer to him. 
“I just might do so if you don’t do something about it.” You egg him on without changing the expression on your face. 
You squeal as Arthur picks you up and gently throws you down on the bed, quickly changing his position to hover over you as he presses kisses all over your face. “Mine,” He announces. “Mine, my girl.” 
“I like the sound of that,” You breathe out. “But I liked the others more.” 
“Which ones?” He asks while letting his finger trace over the outline of your lips. 
“Baby, honey, I don’t even know what you were trying to say.” You giggle. 
“Mine.” He whispers. “I was trying to say that you’re mine.” 
2K notes · View notes
calliopesdiary · 9 days
Note
hola!! would you be able to write a one shot with your first date with remus? maybe you’re both a little shy and nervous and just trying so hard to impress one another and there’s a lot of blushing and cute moments :)
hii! ofc, lovely! (screaming cause i got my first request 🥳🥳)
—•—
Check Yes, Juliet
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synopsis: when Marlene sets two polar opposites up to go on a date
contents: fem!reader, reader likes bows, badboy!remus, just cute adorable idiots in love (:, mentioned dorlene!, readers favorite color is red
warnings: none!
a/n: this fic is inspired by the song “Check Yes, Juliet” by We The Kings! thanks for requesting!
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“MARLS… ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?” you ask from your position in front of your mirror, carefully tying red ribbon into your hair.
“of course it is, y/n. he’ll love you! besides, opposites attract!” Marlene assured you, carefully applying red lipstick to her plush lips.
“i was a little… hesitant when Pandora insisted I go on a date with Dorcas, y’know, cause we were so different. but look at us— we’re about to hit our eight months!”
you nodded silently, checking yourself out in the mirror before finishing your eyeliner.
once Marlene had gotten picked up from your shared flat, you laced up your shoes and got your things together.
and that’s when you heard the knock.
the special knock.
the knock you had been waiting three days for.
your hand nervously gripped the doorknob and twisted it open.
“hi.”
“hi.”
you didn’t mean to say “hi” in unison, now what do you say? crap he was supposed to say hi first and then—
“you look gorgeous.”
you got broken out of your thoughts, your eyes hitting his with an awkward gaze.
“me?”
he chuckled, “who else would i be talking to?”
“o-oh, right, o-of course.” you blushed out of embarrassment.
you could cue some crickets here, you could tell he was nervous, you’ve never seen the resident bad boy so nervous.
“these are for you.”
he held out a bouquet of luscious roses, red, your favorite color.
“w-wow… Remus… these are beautiful…”
“just like you.” his cheeks lit up in a rosy shade, almost as if a painter had graced him with his paintbrush.
he’d definitely rehearsed that.
you let out a soft giggle, before stepping out the front door and walking with him to his car.
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you guys ended up going to this adorable vintage diner near his house, you felt like you could talk to him for hours, except you were so nervous.
he even paid for the food, he paid! (even though the guy should totally pay on first days but that’s just me 🤷‍♀️)
“don’t worry, darlin’, i’ll pay”
“Remus i was gonna pay—“
“shh, keep sipping on your slushy” you blushed, you needed to get this blushing problem under control.
“so, do you have any hobbies?”
sweet of him to ask, but you felt as if you were a bit basic.
“oh, i play electric guitar so.. i guess that’s my hobby, what about you?”
you smiled, god he already loved your smile, it was so sweet, especially since your tongue was red from the cherry slushy you had been sipping on.
“you play guitar? sick!— i mean— cool.. i play bass.”
“bass? i’ve always wanted to play bass!— i mean— that’s super cool, maybe we can play together sometime?” you were quick to get flustered by your own words.
damn, you were being bold.
“i’d like that.”
he tossed some stones into the river underneath the bridge you guys had found, your legs dangling gently off the edge as you sipped on your slushy.
“do you read at all?” you asked, reading being one of your most favorite things.
“i do— actually.”
“really?
“i know it seems unlikely, but yeah, i do.”
“well.. what are your favorites?”
“it’s hard to choose, but i’ve always liked the classics— you know, like.. Romeo and Juliet.”
“Remus, you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you, the coolest guy in town, reads Romeo and Juliet.” he let out a chuckle.
“it’s true.” he shrugged, flashing his signature grin at you.
“do… you have a favorite?”
and just like that you both had spent quite a few hours just sitting on that bridge and talking, you never thought it could really get better than that.
“i know we already talked about hobbies, but have you got any more?”
“i mean— i skateboard, ”
“you skateboard?! damn, i’m really trying to make myself sound cool here but you aren’t helping.” you teased, nudging his shoulder.
“oh come on, it’s skateboarding, it’s not that cool…” Remus itched his neck sheepishly.
“i’m sure there has to be something cool about you.” he teased, his big hand ruffling your hair.
“i don’t know what that could possibly be.” you shrugged.
“well… you wear these beautiful bows everytime i see you walking down the street, and you told me that you like to stay up all night and play video games.” he remembered everything..
“that’s not cool, that’s being a loser.”
“you are about the farthest thing from a loser, y/n.”
you froze a bit, that was so… sweet.
“t-thanks.” you blushed, again. (no surprise)
“i’ll have to teach you how to skate, though.”
“i’d love that.”
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the drive back to your apartment was nothing short of a dream, music blasting, turns out you both had similar music taste.
“billy joel has to be a gift from the heavens.” you remarked loudly, your hair blowing in the breeze, the top down on his convertible.
“i can play uptown girl on guitar!” he responded, a wide smile on his face.
“really?”
“yeah!” the excitement in his voice made you blush almost the same color as your slushy.
“that’s so cool!”
he smiled wider, looking over to you, your pretty face lit up with street lights.
“i write poetry.” you confessed, you’ve definitely come out of your shell.
“you need to show me, sometime.” he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex.
“i… had a great time with you today.” you were so smiley.
“i had a great time with you, too.”
as the gentleman Remus John Lupin was, he walked you to your door.
“i guess this is goodbye.” he sighed lightly, not really wanting his night to end with you.
“thanks for.. everything—“
before you could even finish speaking, his lips were on yours.
your brain imploded, your eyes fluttering shut into the soft kiss Remus had just blessed you with.
your lips tasted of cherry and lip gloss, but he really didn’t mind. his nimble hands crept to your waist as your hands fell to his shoulders. just before he pulled away.
“i’ll see you around, Juliet.”
you smiled at the given nickname, blushing at the suddenness of that kiss still.
“bye, Romeo.”
he chuckled, before quickly walking down the hallway.
Marlene was right, opposites attract.
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mmelionsblog · 7 months
Text
First time [Mike Schmidt x Reader]
“ and the first time that you kissed me,
I drank dry the river lethe”
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Mike’s heart was beating rapidly. Today was the day. The day that he’d add more into the Schmidt family, a fellow member. He fixated on his fingers, his eyes going haywire as they looked towards your side of the church and as to his side. He gulped, as he looked at your mom, and your siblings. They were all talking to other family of yours, whispering, then glancing back and fourth at him.
Mike wasn’t close to anyone, so the groomsmen were mostly from your side of the family that he felt closest too. The best man, a cousin of yours, noticed that Mike was starting to have a panic attack.
“Are you okay, Mike?” He questioned into his ear. Mike nodded, half listening to him. “Y—yeah.. sorry I don’t do well with big crowds like this, and to be the center of attention.” The cousin chuckled, “well get used to it. Her family adores her, so everyone is gonna want to talk to the both of you tonight.” Mike nodded slowly. Then, everyone went silent.
The song you picked started to play, his lips turning into a smile. Can’t help falling in love, of course, started to play as soon as you got into view. There is already tears falling down the poor man’s cheeks. Your dad was seen next to you holding your forearm carefully, while your hand rested on top of your dad’s.
He could hear crying on the other side of him, your cousin was just as worse as he (and apparently your whole family too). The best man patted Mike’s back, toughening up when you got close up. Mike smiled widely, picking up your veil that covered the beauty of your face. You were stunning.
Mike stopped breathing as soon as his eyes locked in with yours. Your hand in his. This is really happening, he thought.
Mike simply couldn’t hold it in any longer. He broke down, in front of you, and in front of everyone that is witnessing the wedding. “Mike?” You whispered, placing your hand onto his cheek. “M sorry,” he sniffled with a small smile. “M just in my feels right now,” he shrugged off his emotions, coughing and then looking up to the priest that was standing in the middle. Then, the wedding continued.
As the priest went on and on and on rambling, Mike couldn’t help but remember the simple times where it was just him and you, and Abby.
The first time you kissed him, he couldn’t believe it. After all these years alone, he himself had thought he’d die alone. He’d rot alone. Abby, the only one in his life, taking care of him as he got older.
The first argument, he thought he’d lose you. He was the first one to say sorry to you. He was sure you didn’t want him after the way he yelled at you, scared of the actions of what Mike’s done. But you were already in his arms washing away the worried face Mike had.
The first time you both had sex, god Mike was in a complete mess afterwords. He had never felt so good in his life, you had completely changed him after Mike had put himself inside of you. To him, if he ever lost you, he doesn’t think he’d ever feel the same way with anyone else after you. So, he can’t lose you. Whatsoever. At all.
“Now you will repeat after me,” the priest says. The two of you were so lost in thought that both of you didn’t hear anything he had said. “Hello?” The priest sang jokingly. “Anyone home?” He snapped his fingers in front of both of your faces, then the two of you had been brought back into reality. Laughter filled the church and echoed could be heard. “I’m sorry, what?” Mike nervously spoke. “You two are really in love,” the priest laughed.
“Now both of you will repeat after me,” he looked at you two in the eyes this time. “I [Name] [Last name] take you, [NAME], to be my [wife/husband]. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life. [Partner two repeats this vow.] Bless, O Lord, these rings which we bless in your name.” The priest spoke.
Mike inhaled, and exhaled. “I, Mike Schmidt, take you, [NAME], to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life. Bless, O lord, these rings which we bless in your name.” He finished. You copied after him.
The priest smiled widely. “And now will the ring bear come over?” He called out, a little boy around the age of five came out, handing over the rings to Mike. Mike placed the ring onto your ring finger, and you placed his onto his own. Your hands both holding each other afterwords.
“Mike Schmidt,” the priest spoke. “Do you take [NAME] [LAST NAME] to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?”
Mike looked like the happiest man on earth in front of you. “I do.” Gasps and giggles could be heard in the church.
“[NAME] [LAST NAME], Do you take Mike Schmidt to be your wedded husband to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?”
Your almost new husband looked at you with complete awe, and your heart skipped a beat. “I do.” You said. “And now, everyone’s favorite part!, I pronounce you husband and wife.” The priest spoke. “You may now—” Mike did not hesitate to place his lips on yours, his hands resting on your white dress near your hips. “Kiss the bride..” the priest said with a chuckle.
A/N: this is so corny and cheesy but idc bc I love Mike Schmidt
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wave2tyun · 2 months
Text
apple cider | ☆
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pairing: huening kai x reader
genre: fluff, childhood friends to lovers
summary: you were foolishly blind to the feelings you held for your best friend, huening kai, until one they, they started to bottle up like soda pop
warnings: slight injury?? nothing serious<3
word count: 3.5k
notes: apple cider by beabadoobee has been ON REPEAT!!!! these past few days!!!!1!1! which is why i believed it might be the perfect time to bring this fic back!!😋 i love love love writing things based on songs, and this is (obviously asbdsjha) where the inspo for this fic came from, as well as the studio ghibli movie 'from up on poppy hill'!! :D also, is it just me or do 24 hours in a day simply not feel like enough anymore......?😖
☆ = repost from my old blog!!
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huening kai was the definition of a sweetheart. grandmas loved him, animals adored him, he was the type of boy anybody's parents would be delighted to meet if you brought him home. and most importantly, he was your best friend.
you and kai met in kindergarten. your very first interaction happened when your parents were late to pick you up, so you, a sensitive child started crying a river. kai was even faster than the teacher to approach you, napkin in his hand and a sweet smile on his face. he patted your back until your parents arrived, sometimes cracking some pokemon impressions in an attempt to make you smile again like he saw you earlier that morning. during your arts and crafts session the next day, you made kai a sloppy drawing of his favorite pokemon character, which, to this day, he insists is the greatest gift he has ever received, the treasured piece of paper sitting in a frame on his nightstand to remain in pristine condition.
from that day on, you only ended up spending more and more time together. you switched seats so that you could sit next to each other during classes, played together during breaks and became lunch buddies, an unspoken promise which had been kept during primary school, middle school, and even now, as you were both high school students in your last year. kai grew up to be a piano prodigy, thus becoming the president of the school's music club. you, on the other hand, wasn't any interested in any extracurricular activities, preferring to stay in bed and sleep your day away on the days where your parents weren't attacking you with house chores. still, you and kai were stuck together like glue. you talked on the phone every day at midnight, rambling on about your day or about anything that crossed your mind; you tried your best to meet up outside of school whenever your schedules allowed, popping a cold bottle of your favorite sweet apple cider.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
your eyes scanned the tables for kai once again. he told you to meet up at the outside dining area, but 15 minutes had passed and he was nowhere to be seen. you huffed, placing your tray down at a table where some of your classmates sat. ‘can’t believe he’d ditch me today’ you angrily pierced the straw through your milk carton.
the sound of a loud horn startled you, making you almost choke on your drink. the highest windows of the school were opened with a bang, paper scrolls coming out of them, followed by the heads of some students as they were peeking out.
“are those the club leaders?” someone at your table asked.
“yeah...seems like so” yunjin answered “what are they up to now?”
you shielded your eyes with your hand, squinting as you tried to read the words written on the papers.
‘lack of freedom kills the people’
“they’re protesting” you broke the silence, making everyone’s head turn towards you “the principal has been wanting to shut down the clubs”
some students gathered around the dining area, they moved in sync and with fast movements, taking out the grate that was placed over the water basin outside. you shrugged, going back to your meal. you weren’t exactly sure what they were going to achieve with this. not even a minute later, yunjin gave you a tap on the shoulder, pointing towards the roof.
“isn’t that-“ she stopped midway, unable to finish her sentence. your face was instantly drained of color at the sight.
it was huening kai.
“what the hell is he doing up there” you mumbled, frowning. you didn’t have a good feeling about this- whatever this was.
huening kai had a bright smile plastered on his face, the whole school’s attention being on him. he coughed then cleared his throat before loudly speaking.
“if our words weren’t enough to reach principal Jung, then that means that it is time for us to turn to actions” he inched closer towards the edge of the roof. his voice remained confident, but his hands betrayed him, shaking as he held the mic close to his chest.
you gulped. you felt nauseous, an empty feeling was taking over your stomach despite the distance between the roof and the ground not being that high.
“if you don’t want to respect us- we will make ourselves heard” huening kai turned his head, looking back at the boys behind him, who gave him a short nod. then, he put the mic down, taking a deep breath before diving into the air, aiming for the water basin.
the plan was easier said than done, and kai stumbled into a bush before landing down on his knees in the shallow water. the members of the photography club were quick to capture the moment, just like you were quick to jump out of your seat and approach the boy. “are you okay-“ you reached your hand out to help him stand up. kai’s smile never faltered away, and once he was back on his feet, he gave you a wink as he clasped your hands together. the bright flashes of the cameras surrounded you in an instant, the photographers pushing through to get “the best shot”.
your cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and you let go of his hands, mumbling as you went back to your seat “stupid- so stupid” you continued to stuff your face with the sandwich you had packed in your lunch bag. why was your face burning that much anyway- you shook your head, trying to ignore the thoughts invading your mind, as well as the hushed whispers coming from all around you. you couldn’t let such foolish actions disturb your day.
kai, as usual, still called you that night. you, however, loved being stubborn. when you saw his name coming up on the screen of your phone, you contemplated for a few minutes, before swiping to deny the call. ‘that should teach him’ you thought. barely a minute later, you were already regretting your decision. you were still mad at him, yet, for some reason, you still wanted to hear his voice, just like every other night. it never mattered to you whether it was a proper conversation. you didn’t care what kai would be talking about- you just wanted to feel like you had him, in some way, close to you, though your pride didn’t allow you to be the one to initiate another call. why was it that you wished to hear him so badly? after all, you didn’t even like him...right? or at least- you didn’t even like him that much- right?
you tossed and turned in your bed, unable to let your eyelids close.
fuck.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
dark circles adored your eyes as a result of the poor sleep you had last night. you wished you could skip the first period and remain in bed for just a few minutes more, but your mom wasn’t having any of that. she took the blanket off your bed and opened your window, forcing you to get up and get ready for the day.
you stood in the hallway, head buried in the school’s newspaper, which teased ‘a revolution’ as well as ‘an endearing romance’ with a big image of you and kai holding hands on the front page.
“is there any way i could make it up to you?” you heard a voice near you.
you closed your locker’s door, kai’s face coming into sight, grinning as always. you wanted to ignore him for the day, pretending to be mad at him for the embarrassment that he had put you through the day before. but kai knew you too well- he had already anticipated your reaction to his stunt, and he wasn’t going to let you get rid of him so easily.
“depends. do you have anything in mind?” you crossed your arms, leaning on your side against the locker.
“apple cider, 10 pm at the playground. sounds good?”
you bit your lip to fight back the smile that was threatening to take over your face. looking down at the floor, you chuckled.
“i guess that would suffice. we’ll see”
the bell rang, signaling the end of your break. kai took the chance to quickly ruffle your hair before sprinting to his class. ‘dork’ you snorted, putting it back into place before going your own way.
you were quick to prepare dinner that day. both of your parents were taken aback by the stark change in your attitude compared to how you behaved in the morning, the sudden surge in energy being questionable. they chose not to bring it up though, afraid that they might ruin your mood. you arrived at the playground at 10 pm sharp and sat on one of the swings there, protecting the other vacant one from the kids that still lingered around until kai came. and soon enough, there he was, apple cider bottles in his hands (just like he promised) as he approached you. you smiled at the sight.
“are you that happy to see me?”
“you wish- i’m just happy to receive the apple cider” you joked, lying through your teeth.
“ah- i’m hurt” hueningkai frowned, dramatically putting a hand over his heart. you laughed at his cute antics. he took his place on the swing, handing you one bottle.
“that jumper looks pretty on you, i like it”
“t-thanks” you stuttered, looking down, failing to see the tips of his ears turning pink. you took a sip from the bottle, the taste so refreshing and all too familiar.
“so- did you manage to convince the principal not to shut down the clubs?”
kai chuckled, reminiscing the events “yeah-“ he stood up, putting his hands on his hips and clearing his throat before speaking again with an exaggerated lower voice “never in my 40 years in this field have i ever seen such- such outrageous actions” pinching the bridge of his nose, he continued “whatever, just do whatever you want. at this point it’s less of a pain to let you continue than to cancel everything”
you burst into laughter at his silly act. kai always had his imitations spot on, and to you, it was much more entertaining than any kind of comedy movie.
“i’m glad it wasn’t all in vain” your smile died down upon noticing the bandages wrapped around his hand “is your hand okay though?”
“oh- yeah, don’t worry about it, it’s just a scratch” he replied quickly, stuffing it in the pocket of his jacket before sitting back down. you sat in silence for a while after that, kicking around the pebbles underneath your feet.
“i’m sorry” kai whispered softly.
“hm? sorry for what?” you frowned.
“sorry for getting you involved in this, it wasn’t supposed to be like that- i told the other members of the club to remove the picture from the article but they didn’t listen”
“hey- it’s okay” you reassured him “it was out of your control, it wasn’t like you knew this whole fiasco was going to unfold”
“but-“ he tried to argue,
“no buts” you interrupted him, laughing “whatever happened, happened. plus- i got to drink some apple cider. even better since it was with you- so, it’s all good”
kai returned your smile, he seemed to be a bit more at ease after hearing those words. you wished that you could have found the strength to get up and give him a hug too, but you were too afraid that your heart would burst if you did that now.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“i’m home” you shouted as you stepped inside the house. leaving your bag on the floor in the hallway, you dragged your feet to the kitchen and put on the apron to get started on your dinner. your parents never got off work before your classes ended, meaning that the responsibility of preparing food for everybody always fell on you. you opened the cabinet underneath the sink to get some potatoes, but your hand reached out into nothingness. confused, you crouched down to have a better look. your face dropped as you realised that there was nothing left inside. that one vegetable was the whole star of the dish, meaning that there was simply no way to substitute it.
‘shit shit shit-‘ you stormed out the door, wanting to slap yourself in the face as you recalled the moment your mother asked you to stop by the farmer’s market in the morning. maybe, just this once, the traffic would be jammed and your parents wouldn’t be so quick to return home from work. you struggled to put on your jumper as you also held a basket in your hand, wanting to be as quick as possible. just as you were about to make your way down, you someone called out from behind you:
“need a ride?” kai was riding his bike to his grandparents, but stopped in his tracks upon seeing you in such a hurried and panicked state.
“god- yes, please” you fumbled over your words. the timing couldn’t have been any more perfect; you were so grateful to see him there, you could almost see a ray of light shining on him and a halo on top of his head.
“have a seat then” he laughed.
you quickly sat down in the back of kai’s bicycle. looking down at the steep path in front of you, you gulped “are you sure it’s okay for us to ride together?”
“just hold on tight” kai took hold of your hands and wrapped them around his torso before pressing on one pedal with his foot. you couldn’t even brace yourself properly for the impact as you went down the hill of doom; your head instantly hit kai’s muscular back, and you found yourself holding his body tighter. you closed your eyes, trying to shift your focus from the citizens passing by you in a blur, to the sweet scent of his fruit-punch shampoo invading your senses. kai swiftly took a turn to the left, effortlessly avoiding all the possible obstacles in his path. thankfully, you both made it to the farmer’s market in one piece.
sighing in relief, you lifted yourself up and walked to the nearest vegetable stall around. kai remained right next to you, making a purchase of his own. he munched on a freshly fried hashbrown as you did the necessary shopping, holding a second piece in his other hand.
“all done” your shoulders slumped down, the whole thing had drained you both physically and mentally. you quirked an eyebrow as you looked at kai eating.
“what?” he asked, throwing the last piece of food in his mouth “i need energy to go back”
“right” you sighed “thank you so much. i might live to see another day because of you” you tried to joke. in reality, the thought of your parents scolding you alone was enough to make your heart start beating faster.
“don’t worry about it” he chuckled “here- take this” he handed you the hashbrown he had been holding. you took it reluctantly, not having expected to receive something like this.
“eat it- it’s good. plus, you need energy too” kai grabbed his bicycle again, positioning himself on the leather seat “i have to go now, you should probably hurry too.” he smiled “take care, y/n” kai sent you a little wave before setting off. you stood on the side of the road for one more moment, smiling at the hashbrown in your hand. you took the first bite as you started to go up the hill again, the worries that were clouding your head quickly disappearing.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
somehow, soon enough, you found yourself in front of kai’s house. you wanted to thank him for his sweet gesture from a few days ago. if it weren’t for him, your parents would have probably kept you locked in the house. you didn’t know what you were going to say to him. staring at the box of cookies you brought with you, you tried to muster up the courage to knock on the door.
knock knock knock
you waited patiently, biting your lips.
‘maybe there’s still enough time to run-‘
“y/n- hi, come in” kai opened the door, greeting you.
“hi” you blurted out. stepping inside, you took off your shoes, then silently followed behind kai as he guided you towards his room. piano sheets were spread out everywhere- on the floor, on his desk, on his bed. you’ve never seen it look like such a mess.
“oh- sorry, were you practicing?”
“tried to- the music festival is just around the corner, but the song choices are killing me”
“can you show me?” you asked, it was always a pleasure to hear kai practicing, but this time, you were also using this as an excuse to organise your thoughts properly.
“yeah, come here” kai patted the empty space beside him on the piano bench. you hugged the cookie box close to your chest, the short distance between the two of you making you feel nervous.
kai’s fingers glided along the black and white tiles, wrist playfully flicking up as he changed up the speed with ease to create a flawless, harmonious symphony. it sounded perfect- it always did.
“that was great” you spoke softly as he finished up the piece.
“wanna try?” kai offered.
“s-sure” you stuttered, putting down the box. somehow, despite all those years that you’ve known each other, you had never given learning piano a try.
kai took hold of your right hand, placing it on the keys “you have to use the pad of your fingers” he put his hand over yours, gently pressing down to demonstrate. you prayed that he couldn’t hear the loud sound of your palpitating heart “then- move your wrist up before moving on to the next set of notes, then down, like a feather falling” you started to feel light-headed, the feeling of kai’s warm hands on yours making you unable to concentrate on the task at hand. you looked up at him, his face now much closer to you than when you first started practicing. kai’s hand stopped guiding yours, yet didn’t let go of it. he glanced at you, his gaze stopping on your plush, rosy lips.
“holding you closer right now- would that cross the line?” he spoke softly, in a daze.
“maybe i want you to cross the line” you whispered back.
kai stood still for a moment, letting your words sink in. then- with gentle movements, his hand came to rest on your jawline, thumb rubbing against your cheek. he seemed nervous- so nervous to not ruin all of your built-up relationship up until that point. but fuck it- you looked so pretty with that jumper he adored, sitting gingerly on his piano chair, inviting him to finally feel his lips on yours. how was he supposed to resist? and when kai closed the gap, his mouth meeting yours in a gentle peck, it felt so incredibly right, so good and sweet.
one more peck.
his body shifted even closer to you.
another one.
his hand came to rest on your lower back, yours grabbed hold of his soft black sweater.
and once more- but this time, you both let the touch last longer, melting into the feeling.
“can i kiss you more?” kai asked, voice barely above a whisper, his thumb was caressing your lips as he spoke. you nodded, eager to indulge yourself into the taste of his sweet kiss. you hummed as he pressed his lips on yours again, the butterflies in your heart unable to settle down. he grinned into the kiss at the sound, his heart felt warm knowing that you wanted this, and enjoyed this just as much as he did. you pulled away, giving the mole at the corner of his lips a kiss, then you left another on the one near his temple, ending with the one you adored most, the one on his nose. you cupped his face, the temperature of his cheeks rising against your fingertips. kai chuckled as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, the adoration you felt towards him becoming almost too much to handle.
“do you want to stay the night?” kai asked bashfully, his fingers playing with one of your sleeves “i have some apple cider left” he looked up at you, eyes gleaming with hope.
“of course i want to” you giggled, dipping down to leave another peck on his soft lips.
3 bottles of apple cider down, you and kai laid down on the bed, legs tangled with each other as he played with your hair and you braided his. you joked around, playing with the plushies on his bed, sometimes stealing kisses on the cheek from each other and falling into another fit of shy giggles yet again. and when you finally drifted off to sleep, hand in hand, you swore you had never felt your heart feel more at ease.
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@huekalover3000 @maybabe00 @sunoooism @boba-beom
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roosterbruiser · 10 months
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𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐓
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Sunlight falls down from the azure sky like a relentless, yellow river. The California heat is pure and spiteful, enough to dot your hairline with sweat and make you occasionally fan yourself. It's new to you. But the heat is good, though--you're going to soak in all the warmth you can before you have to go back to your cavernous house, the one with the unpacked boxes and uncomfortably immaculate tile floors.
Moving houses is always the worst part for you. Not even the packing and unpacking and organizing and grocery shopping, but how stale everything feels. Rooms that are bare. Walls that are empty. Windows that are fingerprint-free. Cabinets without crumbs. Rugs without teething toys and swaddles. Floors without mud.
Everything feels cold at the new house. And it will for a while--you know that now after having moved so many times in the past few years.
From where Jake is standing, just a bit closer to the water with your babbling son in his arms, he watches you. You're laid out on a beach towel, a new one with the tag still on it, and your eyes are closed as you sunbathe. For one of the first time since moving back to California--to Fighter Town, USA--you look restful. Peaceful.
"Look at mama," he says to your son, a smile tugging on his lips. He's bouncing where he stands, the sun beating down on his shoulders. "Isn't she pretty, huh?"
Your son babbles, little pink tongue poking out as he grins toothlessly at Jake, squinting at the sun. He adjusts his straw hat--the adorably small one that makes his heart squeeze every time--and presses a soft kiss to his feathery eyebrows.
"She looks so happy, doesn't she, baby? Doesn't she?" He asks, grinning. "Mama's what we call solar-powered."
Your sun grins back--an identical, squinty-eyed, wide grin. And when Jake laughs, your son echoes him.
"Twins," you whisper to yourself when the warm breeze carries the sound of your boys to you. And then you sigh contentedly, sinking further into the sand. "My boys."
"Oh, we're making her smile," Jake sing-songs. He tickles your son's belly and his laughter erupts from his wet lips like a sweet song. "Just look at that!"
"I can hear you!" You call, grinning.
Cupping your hand over your eyes, squinting to see Jake and your son. And there they are, watching you, grinning the same grin. Your tall, broad husband and your little, chubby baby. Your heart couldn't get any fuller if you tried it--you're certain of it.
"Oh, we've been caught!" Jake says, gasping. He looks at your son and your son looks at him, babbling and giggling and slobbering. "Quick! Distract her! Do something cute!"
At all the attention and enthusiasm from his father, your son dissolves in giggles. They're deep and hearty, straight from his belly.
"It worked," you call to them, tongue swollen with affection.
"Knew it would," he says back, high-fiving your sons curled hand. "We make a good team, bud."
Jake turns to look out at the water--the endless blue and the creamy foam. He's missed California, always finds himself dreaming about it. He glances at you again--your smooth skin, your slack face. He's glad that there is at least sunshine here. Enough to keep you warm.
He wonders, as your son reaches up to tug on Jake's sunglasses, if this is where your children will grow up. Will they dip their toes in the water after school? Will they go surfing with their friends on the weekends? Will they have an extensive seashell collection? Will there always be sand in the carpet? Will their hair be forever permeated with saltwater? Will their skin always be sun kissed and warm?
And you--will you adapt to California? Will you bask in the sun after dropping the kids off at school? Will you find all the good wine spots for date night? Will you wear flow dresses and always have bare feet? Will you keep sunscreen in your purse and always have a few pairs of sunglasses on your person at all times?
More than anything, in this single moment, Jake wants to stay for a while. No more moving--for himself, for your son, for you. Especially for you.
𓇼 𓇼 𓇼
There is sand everywhere: in your hair that is still damp with saltwater, wedged between your skin and the wet swimsuit you're still wearing, underneath Jake's fingernails, between your son's toes.
It squishes underneath your feet as you bounce softly, holding your son in your arms.
"Easy goes it," you whisper softly to your son, cradling his soft head as you ease his body--which is heavy with sleep--down onto the mattress of his crib. You know you're going to have to shake the sheets out once he wakes up--sand is still crumbling out of his hair. "Poor baby. Couldn't even make it through a bath, huh? Daddy tuckered you out with all that swimming, huh? Didn't he?"
The room is dark--blackout curtains are always the first thing Jake installs in the nursery--and cool, the sound machine int he corner lulling ocean sounds aloud.
Jake stands in the doorway, leaning up against the frame, still in just his swimming trunks. He watches you caress your son's pudgy cheek, watches you bend at the hips to kiss his face like you always do. His heart squeezes when he glances around the mostly-bare room. He thinks all the heat in this room, every bit of it, must be coming from you and your love.
For a long, long moment, you just watch your baby. You see so little of yourself in your own child, which you used to think would bother you. But you love Jake so much--an overwhelming, unmeasurable amount--that it only feels natural for that love to multiply in the form of a smaller version of him. And he's there, sleeping on his seashell-printed sheets, his lips parted as he drools.
"C'mon, mama," Jake whispers to you. "We've got a hot shower calling our names."
Stroking his soft hair, you inhale all the salt and sun on his skin. Your sweet, sweet boy with sand still in his hair and messing his sheets. Your heart swells at the simple notion of something being genuinely messy for the first time since moving.
"I'm coming," you whisper. "Just give me a minute."
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weirdfishy · 11 months
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gotta urgent need for some not-quite-yet punkflower where hobie is chillin in some rubble post-(successful) battle all knackered out n miles is visiting (idk bc he just told his parents abt spiderman n it went well so he's bursting at the seems with love at being accepted n all yea? he's gotta tell someone, and why not him? why not hobie? it's no one else but hobie he's gotta tell, if he's being honest with himself [denile is not a river in his egypt, ok pav?] so yeah, he finds himself on 138) n catches the tail end of the battle, tracks down where hobie decided to make a couch outta concrete and lands in front of him, buzzing with cheezy lovey dovey feelins of elation, top o' the fucken world, and asks on abt hobie, rambling until hobie just lifts a hand, a silent ask for help up, (always asking for connection always makin sure they're actually there) n miles, have i mentioned he's happy? he's straight up a sap, so he takes that hand.
he takes that hand gently, bending at the waist a bit, dramatically sweeping back his other arm, bowing, for hell's sake, n plants a kiss on the back of hobie's hand, nice n proper, with a cheeky wink to boot (he'd finally fixed the eye mechanisms last week, thanks to penny), before pulling up new london's own spiderman chest to chest with a bright laugh that puts a different kind of stars in hobie's eyes, half dancing half belting out a song in spanish he doesn't quite understand but knows all the words to (it's some continental dialect, nothing his mami speaks, but would filter out the headphones of that kid in his building he walked w in middle school everyday)
before the sirens start getting closer n hobie can feel the warmth of miles-- the warmth of his smile, his hair that's still sparking from transdimensional travel, his arms, chest, laughter, everything, n all at once it pulls every affectionate n pining bit of hobie to the surface, if he weren't wearing his mask his blush would be so impossibly visible it's straight mad how much hobie loves n adores miles, how much seeing miles be happy lights hobie's whole fucking world
and oh, hobie's never seen a god he didn't punch, never believed in any one he couldn't, but right now, with his fingers entwined with miles', aches leaving his bones like he's never felt his left shoulder twinge the second it drops below 21 just because miles just yelled fuck off to the approaching pigs, he could fall to his knees n swear pious fealty to milesmilesmiles.
but hobie is cool (never has a label stuck to him like the one miles has given him), and his real, livin n breathing god is starting to ramble, so hobie webs them upupup, heat along his back as god wraps arms around him, breath on his neck as home weaves tales into the leather wrapping it.
then miles hears hobie's stomach growl, so he starts pulling them away from the path of what he knows is towards hobie's flat, and towards what he swears is the only good puerto rican food in the whole of hobie's haunt, his excitement steamrolling over his usual stuttering spanish, exchanging shouts n jeers with everyone behind the counter
bc everyone knows him, like miles has lived here, earth-138, new london, his whole life, like hobie brown being dragged into the shop every other week by miles morales to get the same two plates (n an extra something for miles to gush over n hobie to taste) is how the rest of this life will go, like hobie n miles are together, in a way that the unsubtle looks the owner's kid at the register is aiming at miles' left hand are correct, but don't involve stuffy socially religious systems like marriage
but they're not, as much as hobie would love to kiss miles, gaze into his eyes for ages, hear his laughter, his off-key singing, his scritch-scritch of something on paper everyday-- bc he can't go abt this like he does everyone else, can't do it with half a foot out the door n a shrug as agreed; it's gotta be both feet on the floor, n it's gotta be for the rest of this life, so he'll take what he can get, and he'll take the distance n devotion, take the faith n the heartache. take what he can get from his god, glad to be touched by his god, glad to be loved by his god, across universes n the fall from his bed to the futon on the floor where miles decides to lay his head for choice holy nights
(hobie doesn't know miles is putting himself at the base of his god's shrine, hoping for his deity to fall into his arms, spikes n all, (ready, so ready to tear apart dimensions again for hobie, to bleed and cry n go to war for hobie) fingers splaying on the side of the mattress warmwarmwarm after hobie starts snoring, before they slip down softly, a prayer imparting from the pads, memorizing the patterns of his god's breath, the smell of the room, the borrowed shirt he wears, the sounds of a second city he calls home, thrumming full with a bass note plucked from an electric guitar, usually shaky hands sure n still picking out a different shape to hobie's eyebrow piercing, deftly screwing a star onto the bar. miles brings offerings to his god in pins n patches on clothing, stickers n torn out sketches decorating a shrine)
so they'll song n dance in new york, in new london; learning each other's cities, earths, haunts, people, arts, each other, like new scars for the collection- permanent and signs of living, odes to loving and protecting.
chest to chest, fingers entwined, warmth in the skies above cities, right on the edge of it all until they fall together, eyes wide open, gods broken down into blood and teeth and lovelovelove
not-quite-yet 2 - 3
. my ko-fi 💛
ao3 link
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malewifeharem · 3 months
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celebrity!danheng IL
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彡- ,, a collection of my brainrots about dating danheng as diff types of celebs!
cw ⁞ none unless ur allergic to hot rich dragon fluff. not proofread.
an ⁞ i put my whole badussy into this from 3 am till 8. i wasnt gonna write so much for my first post but ehe.
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imagine dancer!danheng who lets you join him during dance practice. you sit quietly by the side while you keep your eyes on his sweaty, concentrated form. the song he chose blasts in the background and his sneakers squeak with each of his movements. he's dynamic, powerful, sexy and everything you could ever dream of.
sometimes he worries that you'll get bored (as if) so he glances at you occasionally to check on you. the way you flare up in embarrassment at his sharp gaze is just a bonus. you really question how you managed to woo a water dragon twice your age (dilf?) but you try not to think about it too much.
he mutters a breathy "thank you, treasure," as you hand him his bottle. he doesn't realize you smiling like an idiot as you watch him replenish himself, your eyes once again locking in on your boyfriend's ethereal features. his slick-backed hair falls across his face as he tips his head back, revealing his crystalline eyes — divine, tranquil and pure, just like a river — much like his love for you.
imagine author!danheng who dedicates all of his time writing about his one and only muse — you. in fact, he's been writing about you for lifetimes now — in every new lifetime you two share together, he vows to devote his time to only you. when he's writing, he reminisces about your past dates together and pieces his heart and memories together and masterfully fits it into a vessel. once he's done, he proudly sends it to the publisher and patiently awaits the day he can show the finished book to you.
"how do you like it?"
he asks as he curls into you closer while cuddling (aw im gonna eat him i swear), eager to hear your opinion. Although he knows you adore whatever he writes, he still wants to see the way your eyes crinkle as you shyly giggle at the parts you recognize from your own dates. he wants — no, needs — to engrave the sight and sound of you in his mind so he can write it in his next script.
god forbid if anything happens to you. after inviting you into his life, he finds himself unable to write any angsty or tragic stories — he wonders why.
imagine actor!danheng who invites you as an exclusive guest to the film set. he's currently filming for a romance drama which involves him and another actress acting out a couple of lovey-dovey scenes — nothing more than that. that's what you tell yourself as you cringe, your brain conjuring up an image of another woman kissing him outside of set. you push your seething jealousy aside till you're both back in the dressing room. he doesn't miss the way you refuse to look him in the eye as he casually discusses dinner plans with you.
"what's wrong, darling? if this is about my acting during filming, i'll reassure you once more: whatever happens on set, stays on set."
he gently tips your chin up so you're both looking eye-to-eye. he relishes in seeing you all pouty for him, he can't help but chuckle when he observes the slight glossy look of your eyes — they hold a possessive, feisty glint in them that pulls on his heartstrings in the perfect way. he sighs sweetly before pulling you in for a warm hug, his tail coiling itself around your figure — caressing your back and relieving whatever doubts and worries you held before.
"let's create our own scenes tonight, my love."
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isuckatwritingsobenice · 10 months
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Lovesick Alastor headcannons? also can it be slight yandere coded, with a AFAB reader? would also like this to be in the 60’s AU, if that’s okay!!
A/n: 60’s? Alastor? Yandere? The killer is literally having all the cards in his favor rn 😨😨 !! But don’t worry bby I like this thought, AND HE’S LOVESICK??? 10/10 delulu thought bc we all know Alastor wouldn’t be like this ( but yk, I feed into my delusions, so today he’s gonna be a lovesick mf thank you 😝 ) Also, HUMAN ALASTOR BECAUSE THE GIRLIES THAT LOVE HIM JUST AS MUCH AS I DO MUST BE FED !!!!!
𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: yandere themes! Unhealthy obsession! NSFW ahead! Reader is headcannoned as AFAB but can be read otherwise! Mentions of race & segregation! Mentions of drinking & smoking!
ੈ✩‧₊˚𝙉𝘼𝙑𝙄𝙂𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *
Songs you can play while listening: We’ll meet Again By Vera Lyn. Lovefool by the Cardigans. Try a Little Tenderness By Otis Redding ( or Frank Sinatra however you see fit ). Come Fly with me by Frank Sinatra. These Arms of Mine by Otis Redding. Are you lonesome tonight by Elvis Presley. Strangers in the night by Frank Sinatra. Cant help falling in love by Elvis Presley.
⋆˚✿˖° 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑭𝑶𝑶𝑳 ⋆˚✿˖°
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Lovesick Alastor would include….
A large sum of gifts
dancing to elvis
Have a ton of bouquets your not sure what to do
Having to go out of the city to a smaller town so you two can have some sort of privacy
alastor gets into more ‘white’ bars than people expect and only because of his status, it deeply bothers him
Dancing to frank sinatra >>>
he takes you dancing a lot, like a WHOLE LOT
drive ins a are a must, and it’s always so romantic, even if it’s simple you know? he usually parks away from other people to make it more private
make out sessions in his car at said drive in
he really likes getting milk shakes with you
attends elvis shows with you and you both just stand really close to the divider so when it eventually breaks you two are already so close together
having to sneak around at night so you two don’t get caught with one another
adoring his mother and her cooking
ALASTOR WITH A FANCY CAR >>>>>
alastor kills anyone he sees interact with you while you’re at work, or just anyone he doesn’t like near you in general
kills your neighbor because he saw alastor leaving your house ( you will never know )
Alastor likes helping you pick dresses and do your hair, he also learnt a lot from his mother in this aspect
sewing together >>>
you two often sit by the river together sometimes even late at night
he loves when you run to him scared about the killer in the area, he thinks it’s ironic and funny
would do anything and everything for you
helps fix your house, he’s very handy
secretly envies the younger children with fathers that actually talk to them
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flametrashiraarchive · 11 months
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Thinking about Gyomei who returns from a long string of missions to find his s/o laying down, staring at nothing. Eyes empty, voice apathetic, like a cup with a hole at the bottom, drained of life.
Gyomei's big frame craddling his s/o, rocking back and forth in comfort, trying to breathe more life into his s/o's depressed form, trying to return the warmth stolen by their mind.
Gyomei ready to give up, when his s/o starts to respond to his touch finally...
... after all his cuddles are the best.
- Beer anon 🍻
Who has two thumbs and gets carried away writing about sad boys 👍😎👍
Thank you for this ask. I loved writing about Gyomei and I hope I did him well!
NSFW and unbearable cuteness beneath the cut.
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Softer than Mochi- Gyomei x Reader
Gyomei's chin was tilted down as he listened to you. Ordinarily, your voice brought him familiar comfort, but lately he had noticed the sound of it, along with the scent of your skin, was eliciting a new sort of reaction.
It was both unbearably exciting and incredibly uncomfortable.
"Please continue." He shifted his weight as he sat cross-legged on the rocks. His cheeks were getting warm as you told him about your latest mission. "You pursued the demon through the forest?"
You continued speaking, seemingly unaware of his predicament. "Yes. So anyway, the demon almost got away, but I took it down and managed to save the woman it was trying to snatch away. It won't bother anyone again."
"Ah… good. You did well. I'm proud."
There was a slight shift in the air which told him you'd taken a step forward. His heart quickened. 
"Thank you," you said. "I couldn't have done it without your training."
Instinctively, Gyomei opened his arms to accept your embrace. You hugged him often, and he enjoyed it every time.
You were so soft and precious to him. Most people felt small to Gyomei– even Tengen Uzui who stood six and a half feet tall and had muscles on muscles felt like a willow branch sometimes.
The stone hashira wrapped you in his arms, breathing in your warm and lovely scent.
"My sweet friend," he whispered as you buried your face against his neck, making his stomach flutter. "Your capabilities come from your strength and determination, not from me. I taught you ways to use your tools, but you were the one who built and refined them. And you have already been given your next mission?"
"Yes." Your voice was filled with a conflicting mix of  weariness and determination. The lower ranked slayers such as yourself were always busy taking down weaker demons, while hashira were assigned to the less frequent but more difficult missions. "I have to leave here in an hour in fact. I have a train to catch."
An hour was too little time to spend together, but Gyomei would cherish every moment. "I smell matcha… what is that?"
"I brought you some mochi," you said, placing a paper packet in his large hands.
Gyomei smiled and carefully unwrapped the packet, touching his fingers to the squishy little cakes. They were round, perfectly smooth, and as soft as your cheeks, but each one had two little pointed bumps on top… they felt like ears.
The stone hashira's smile widened. "Are they cat-shaped?"
Your excited laughter was heartwarming music to him. "Yes!"
His chest filled with adoration. "They're almost too cute to eat. Thank you, my dearest friend." 
You sat beside him on the rocks, listening to the roaring waterfall and the babbling song of the river. Your hand rested in his, so small and delicate but somehow so warm and profound. 
"Please be safe on your mission," Gyomei said. "And inform me when you get back."
His heart leapt as you leaned against him, resting your head on his bicep. "I will. I'll come and find you before I do anything else. You be safe too, Gyo."
When you stood, his heart lamented. The air shifted again and he opened his arms to embrace you, but this time you pressed your lips softly to his cheek, your hands resting on his shoulders.
Gyomei had faced countless demons, he had suffered every brutality, but your gentle kiss hit him harder than anything he had ever known before. Your lips were so soft he could have wept.
The tingle of your kiss lingered on his skin long after you left for your mission. Gyomei remained seated where you left him, smiling as he thought of you and ate the mochi you so sweetly made for him. The world, for a little while, was very beautiful. 
***
Five days passed before he heard whispers of your return but you did not come to see him as promised. 
That was unlike you and it filled Gyomei with concern. He walked the familiar path to your home, trying to calm his mind. There could be a number of explanations; maybe you were asleep, maybe you had been summoned elsewhere… maybe you had only said you would come to see him first to humor him.
He reached your front door and raised his hand to knock, but found only empty space in front of his knuckles. He called out your name and heard only silence. His heart plummeted. 
Your door was open and you were not responding. He immediately suspected the worst. But there was no trace of a demon, no sickly scent of death or injury. 
"I'm coming in," he said, so as not to scare you.
Your house was silent, and the air had a strange sort of quality. In the past, your home had been a place of comfort for him, but now when he stepped across the threshold he felt a sorrowful weight in his heart.
"Are you here?" He tried to conceal the worry, but it came out anyway. "My friend, speak to me… please."
"Gyo…" 
At the sound of your voice his heart leapt. He turned toward the sound and took a step forward. 
"Are you hurt?" He asked. 
"No… I'm sorry I scared you."
You were on the floor. 
He crouched close to you, reaching out a hand toward you. "My friend, what has happened? I can hear the pain in your voice."
A heavy silence sat between you. Oh, his heart was aching and he couldn't fathom why. Your voice sounded so empty, so utterly broken. You were sitting on a futon in the center of the room; still and quiet and emanating sorrow. He couldn't hold back from reaching out further and placing his hand upon you. His fingers brushed your forearm and traveled down until he found your hand and held it in his. Somehow you felt smaller… hollow…
He didn't press the issue. You would tell him in your own time. He simply sat with you and held your hand. Gyomei was patient.
After a while you moved. He heard your clothes shuffle, felt the air waft against him as you moved your body.
His heart squeezed as you rested your forehead on his shoulder, and he couldn't refrain from holding you. He wrapped you up in his arms, easing you down to sit in his lap as he surrounded you in his embrace.
You fit so perfectly against him; so small and sacred. He held you with endless love and affection, cradling you in his arms as he rested his chin on top of your head. Something had bruised your sweet spirit, and he would hold you for eternity if he thought it could help you heal.
Finally, you spoke. "I failed, Gyomei. The demon's victims begged me to help and I failed. I couldn't save them."
It was a pain he knew too well, and a pain you would have to make space for in your heart because it would never truly go away.
"I'm sorry. That is never easy."
You pressed yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Please forgive me."
"Oh, little one." His chest ached. He was so bound to your shattering heart that the splinters of it pierced through his own. "How I wish I could take away your pain." 
You trembled as silent sobs wracked your body and Gyomei rocked with you. You mourned the lives you hardly knew and he held you through it as though he could shield you from the rest of the world until the grief was gone. 
"I'm so sorry," you whispered, still weeping.
"You are forgiven, my dearest friend." He knew the apology wasn't truly meant for him, but he also knew you needed a seed of forgiveness to allow solace to take root and start to grow.
You cried your tears until you had nothing left. Finally, you grew still and the tension in your body waned.
"You have such a beautiful soul." He unwound one of his arms from around you and wiped away your tears with his thumb. He smiled, "And the softest cheeks."
You laughed quietly and it mended your hearts a little. "Thank you."
"Please do not be sad anymore. Take this pain and use it to help more people."
"Gyomei…" His name was music when it came from your lips. "You're so dear to me. This mission helped me realize I should make sure you know that."
"You are to me too. You're precious."
The gentle touch of your fingers on his jaw made his heart flutter. You traced the shape of his face as he had done to you so many times before.
His pulse raced. The air between you crackled with something unspoken. Your breaths were shallow and shivering as they blew across his lips. Heat prickled on his cheeks and along the column of his neck as he continued to hold you, dipping his chin to he nearer to you. He was inexperienced but not completely naive. Even if he couldn’t quite believe it was happening, he knew you were thinking about kissing him.
He wanted it too. 
“I adore you," he managed to whisper.
"I adore you too."
His heart pounded as you traced the outline of his lips with your fingertips. It was the most intimate sensation he had ever felt. Each breath he drew took a tremendous effort and barely reached the top of his lungs. This was unlike him; Gyomei was in tune with every muscle in his body, and yet your tender touch weakened him more than he thought possible.
He released you from his embrace and raised his hands to your face, finding his bearings before he leaned down and closed the distance, kissing you with infinite tenderness.
The moment his lips met yours, you responded, melting against him and kissing him back; so soft and warm it made his entire body ache. His heart was full to bursting as his thoughts tumbled like a landslide. Your lips were even softer than your cheeks, softer than mochi, warmer than sunlight. 
The kiss seemed to breathe life back into you, and almost at once there was a new passion and hunger which he had sometimes dreamed of experiencing. But never once did he actually believe he could share it with you. You stole his breath away.
When the kiss broke, you showered his face in smaller, more chaste, but no less lovely kisses. Gyomei felt himself smile as his hands trailed down your back.
"Tell me, cherished one," he said quietly, "just so I don't run away with myself. Is this simply to feel good and numb your pain, or is this truly how you feel?"
Thank the gods that the silence afterward was only momentary. His heart couldn't stand it.
"It's how I feel," you responded, caressing the sides of his face with both hands and giving him goosebumps. "Gyo… this is why I come to you after every mission to embrace you and hold your hands. This is why I make cat-shaped mochi for you. I thought you knew I love you."
His heart was about to burst from his chest and his smile could not be contained. "Ah… yes, now that I consider it, it seems obvious."
You laughed. "My sweet Gyo."
"My most beloved, I am yours."
You kissed him again. Though it had only been moments since the last one, relief coursed through him as he drew from that sweet warmth and softness. 
Your hands explored his shape, traversing the neckline of his shirt to the very top of his chest. While not vain, Gyomei was proud of his strength and the muscles he worked so hard to hone. Your quiet hum of approval sounded against his lips as your fingers touched his pectorals. It filled him with pride.
A breathless, tingling sensation coursed through his body as your touches grew bolder and your kisses increased in intensity. The sensation of your hands brushing his bare skin caused a sensation not unlike you were tugging a chord connected to his core.
"Am I moving too fast?" You asked, still resting your forehead against his as though it was as painful for you to be apart as it was for him. 
"Not at all. Continue, please." Heat pickled across his cheeks, far more intense than any sunbeam. 
"You're blushing," you whisper before taking his hand and leading it toward your face, brushing your cheeks with the back of his fingers. "I'm blushing too."
He smiled. "I feel it. You're so warm."
He felt you smile back beneath his fingers and then your hand left his. He heard the soft rustle of fabric, the quickening of your breath, and then you took his hand and led it down to your bare chest.
"Oh…" he choked out.
Nothing in the world could compare to the smooth warmth of your body beneath his large, battle-hewn hands. You were silk to him, lotus petals, mochi, the gentle flow of a sun-warmed stream. His chest ached. Your beauty was overwhelming.
The way you bowed to his tender caresses pulled once more at that chord. When he brushed his thumb over the hardening bud of your nipple and elicited a soft sigh of pleasure from you, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
Tingling excitement rolled through his lower belly as your hands went to the fastening of his trousers. Gods, he wanted this, he did… but as inexperienced as he was, there were certain facts he was very aware of. 
“We must be patient,” he said. “I need to ensure you are ready.”
“Believe me, Gyo, I’m ready.” You kissed him again with renewed passion, running your fingers through his hair and sending more little shocks of pleasure through him. 
Gyomei smiled as you pulled back from the kiss, placing his hands over yours to halt your progress. “You’re not ready enough.”
“What do… oh… OH.” You had no doubt noticed the bulge forming in his trousers. “I see. You’re–”
“Large.” He pulled in a breath. “I’m very large. And I don't want to hurt you." Slipping his hand over the curve of your waist, he pressed a kiss to the plush softness of your chest. "If you wish to continue then I ask that you permit me to prepare your body to…receive me."
"I want to continue." You kissed him again, your tongue entering his mouth and slowly teasing his; pulling a gravelly moan from his lips. When you withdrew, you stood and he heard the soft rustle of cloth once more as you removed the rest of your clothing. You took his hands and led them to your bare thighs. "Please touch me."
His pulse thundered as he skated his hands along the curves of your body, committing every soft hill and luxurious valley of your shape to memory. Every touch was an act of profound worship, and every sweet sound of pleasure which came from you was an answer to a prayer.
"Beloved, lie down for me," he said softly. "I want you to be comfortable."
You did as he asked, lying back on your futon.
Just knowing that you were before him, laid out and feeling as nervous and as excited as he was, made his heart flutter. He undressed fully before he let his hands stroke the lengths of your thighs, down to your center where the heat radiated from you in intoxicating waves.
"Please tell me if I'm doing well or not," he asked. His voice was quiet and shaking a little with trepidation. "I've never… well, I've received a little bit of instruction on how to do these things but never put them into practice. So please…"
"I will." You placed your hand on his and with gentle pressure, urged him to touch you. 
Your tender flesh was like nothing he had ever felt before. His breath caught in his throat as his fingers mapped out the shape. You were so warm and wet, and the scent of you was truly intoxicating. You made such lovely sounds of pleasure as he slid his fingers through your folds, coating them in your essence. He traced their shape upward, to where they seemed to converge over your delicate, swollen bud.
"There," you gasped as he circled his fingers around it. "That's…"
"Your clitoris," he said with a smile. "I know… I told you, I've had instruction."
At the time he had thought Uzui's lessons were wasted on him, but he had committed the information to memory nonetheless. Now, as your hips bucked and your thighs trembled from the gentlest touches, he had every intention of thanking Uzui from the bottom of his heart.
"Gyo-mei~" you gasped as he stroked your clit with his thumb and pushed a thick finger into you. Oh, gods, the heat, the silken flesh, the slick coating of your nectar, like sun-ripened fruit. He wanted so badly to sink into you and feel his body connected to yours. But he would be patient. He would ensure you were completely ready before he satiated his needs. 
A wave of heat washed over him as you bore down on his finger, eager and demanding even without words.
"Is it good?"
"'S… good…"
"Do you want more, my beloved?"
"Yes…" your breaths came in short gasps. "More."
He pushed a second finger into you, pausing as you cried out, allowing your body to accommodate them. His fingers, like everything else, were large.
He waited until you began to thrust onto them again and took that as a sign that you were ready.
Gently, he began to move his fingers, pumping them into you slowly as his thumb continued to rub your clitoris. His heart quickened as he felt your inner muscles begin to contract and spasm. 
"Don't stop," you whispered.
"I won't."
You came apart seconds later, gasping and shuddering as those muscles pulsed around his fingers. You squeezed them so beautifully, and imagining that sensation on his cock was enough to make him lightheaded.
But he still had work to do. "Can you take more?"
You placed your hand on his thigh. "Yes."
A blissful cry emerged from you as he added a third finger, gently stretching you. 
"Gods, Gyomei~"
"Breathe, beloved. Breathe and relax. I will stop if you wish me too."
"Never."
He chuckled before spreading his fingers slightly, opening you up and readying you. "If I could only express the true depth of my feelings for you." He bowed his head, kissing your stomach with slow, lingering kisses as he continued to pump his fingers into you. 
You were so receptive to his touches, moaning softly as you placed your hand on his wrist, as if to hold it down between your thighs. It was a reassuring gesture that he was pleasing you. That's all he truly desired.
He felt your muscles quiver again and you cried out his name. His cock stood firm, aching with need as your pussy squeezed around his fingers.
"I think you are ready." He spoke softly, kneeling back a little. "If you still–"
"I do. Gyomei… I absolutely do."
You got up and sat astride his thighs as he knelt on the bottom of the futon. This was good. It was exactly what he wanted. He needed you to be in control now, setting the depth and intensity. 
Your lips brushed against his as you cupped his face. The bare skin of your torso was so soft and delicate against his large frame. He wound his arms around you and met your kiss, slow and passionate and filled with love. 
Shifting in his lap, you positioned yourself so the head of his cock was pressed against your entrance. He felt a brief stab of worry that he hadn't prepared you well enough, that he had been too hasty and would hurt you, but a moment later you took him with nothing more than a breathy moan. 
"Gyomei… Gods you feel incredible."
Oh there was nothing that could describe that feeling of sinking into you. A needy groan escaped him as he pressed his head to your shoulder and breathed in the scent of you, trying to ground himself. He was lost in the sensation.
"I love you," you whispered, kissing his lips so gently it seemed you felt he was fragile and precious. 
"I love you too, my everything."
He had never felt so connected to anyone. Mind, body, soul, he was yours. He groaned in pleasure as you undulated your hips, taking him deeper inch by inch, stopping to give you both time to adjust and bask in the sensation.
"Does it hurt, my love?" he asked, unable to shake the tinge of concern from his mind or his voice. 
"No. No, we fit together perfectly." You kissed his neck, sending a frisson of pleasure traveling down his body where it pooled in the bottom of his belly. 
People often spoke of the beauty of stars; pinpricks of light shimmering among velvet darkness, and he felt he understood that with you. Those shimmering sparks danced across skin, overwhelming him in the best possible way.
Pressure built at his core as you rode him, your hands resting on his shoulders, your soft body moving against his. You were taking him well, better than he had ever dared to hope you could.
The slow rhythm of your movements, the constant pleasure, the intimacy… It was too much. He grit his teeth and choked out a cry.
"Beloved… I'm…"
"Let it happen, Gyo. You've more than satisfied me. Let go…"
You kept on moving to that slow, loving rhythm, building the exquisite pressure which ran through his core, growing and growing until he was barely clinging to his senses.
His fingers gripped your hips with more strength than he ever meant to use with you, holding you to him as his pleasure reached an almost unbearable peak. 
"Ohh, beloved… perfect… so~ ohhh…so perfect." 
He filled you entirely, lowering his head to press his cheek to yours as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and clung to you. 
"I have you," you whispered as you held him, stroking his back as he trembled in your arms.
He knew he could be like this with you for as long as he needed to be. As wave after wave of pleasure rocked through his body, he sank down into your arms, pressing you back until you were lying on the futon and he reclined on his hip beside you, nestling his head against your chest.
Your heart thudded against his ear, beating to a rhythm you had set together. 
His lips curved as you stroked your fingers through his hair, kissing the top of his head and sighing in contentment.
In that moment, and in every moment he shared with you, the stone hashira's heart was softer than mochi.
And the world was forever beautiful. 
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