#i know some people asked for me to continue and to tag them so ill be happy to do that if yall are interested

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Idk what the hell just happened but I think I made a sequel/prequel to that Ben Hanscom one shot I did forever ago,,, so anybody interested ?

#again its all in 2nd person and no pronouns or descriptors it that helps at all #girl (gender neutral) i didnt know i knew how to do that [write] #ben hanscom x reader #ben hanscom x you #i know some people asked for me to continue and to tag them so ill be happy to do that if yall are interested

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, just a little light-hearted fluff of seungcheol being a dramatic whiny baby when he’s sick, mentions of dry scalp and skin picking lol, seungcheol is very whiny | wc: 742

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a classic cough and cold combo paired with a side of fever-related aches and pains — that was the diagnosis, not the life-threatening illness seungcheol was sure he’d contracted. he’d tried convincing you it was fast-spreading. like really fast. like it has taken over his body and has been shutting down his organs one by one for the past 6 hours fast.

‘i’m going to die. it’s not a joke anymore. i seriously feel like i’m going to die’ he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt as you clear up the mountain of tissues on the left bedside table, and then tugs again while you’re clearing up a pile of dishes on the right.

you sigh, ignoring him, and disappear into the kitchen to reappear with a fresh bowl of hot chicken soup ‘seungcheol, we’ve been over this already. you’re not going to die’

‘forget it! just get me my will. i have to make some last-minute changes’ he asks for it dramatically, draping a limp arm over his eyes.

‘you don’t have a will’ you blow on the hot soup in quick bursts before feeding him a spoonful.

‘ugh, never mind. it’s fine’ the will talk is waved off with a quick fan of the hand to make way for what he says next ‘they give everything to the spouse anyway. wait, do they?’

‘i don’t know, and we’re not married’ you remind him, stirring the hot liquid so the shredded chicken, his favourite part, rises to the top.

‘god, you’re right’ he sits up a little straighter and grabs your free hand, suddenly somber ‘do you take choi seungcheol to be your lawf-’

you force-feed him another spoonful to shut him up, a bit of it spilling onto the quilted blanket. the soup must’ve still been too hot because he lets out a little cry, whining, though it’s entirely possible he’s overreacting.

‘you’re not taking this seriously, i’m actually dying’

‘you’re not’

‘what do you know! you’re not a doctor!’ he grumbles, taking a moment to tell you he really likes the soup and really really appreciates you making it for him before continuing to rant.

‘yeah, and what about the actual doctor we called who said you’re not?’

‘he doesn’t know anything either, that hack. the people on the internet’ he picks up his phone from the bed, showing you a screenshot from some site you’re pretty sure is for hypochondriacs to confirm each other’s delusions, and taps on the screen ‘have told me i have less than 24 hours left. 24. 24!’

‘seungcheol, i can’t have this conversation with you anymore. seriously. you need to go to sleep’ you put the empty bowl aside, straightening, and then pulling the blanket up to cover him.

‘no, no, don’t leave. i want lap time’ he pouts, baby-talking his way into his third one of the day. you sit back down on the bed with a sigh as he repositions himself to lay on your lap, wriggling his head around until he’s comfy. your fingers slowly comb through his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp to soothe him. in a slightly gross but domestic act, you pick a few bits of flaky skin out of his unwashed hair, flicking them away. you should wash it for him later, you think. he’d like that.

seungcheol always found the sensation of you picking at his scalp strangely comforting, and surprisingly quite sleep-inducing. minutes pass without a single sound.

it’s quiet. finally. or so you think.

‘if i die, you can’t date anyone for the next 10 years. at least’

‘what?!’ you jerk your thighs up, pushing him off your lap ‘10 years? you’re crazy’

he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

‘i was just being nice. you shouldn’t date anyone ever, but ohmygod, i can’t believe you want to be with someone else’ he presses his fingers to his temples, suddenly coming down with a headache.

‘so let me get this straight’ he continues ‘you’re telling me when i die tomorrow-’

‘you won’t’

‘-when i die tomorrow, you’re going to bring some other man to my funeral?!’ his cheeks now hot with a shade of distressed pink.

you’re not sure where he’s got that from but you’ve had enough. you get up, grabbing the bowl, and look him straight in the eye, pinching his cute little cheeks ‘well, it’s a good thing you’re not dying then’

you walk out, leaving him right there on the bed, hot and most definitely cold.

#scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups #choi seungcheol #scoups drabble #seungcheol drabble #scoups x you #seungcheol x you

[inherdaze]

jungle — kiyoomi sakusa

kiyoomi x f reader

18+ content, pining, slow burn, sakusa wears dog tags mmm, smut, acquaintances to lovers. kind of a historical au? (think 1930s) idk bro it's like all made up. mentions of pregnancy

9k

summary: kiyoomi seeks serenity after coming home from war.

There’s lots of commotion outside. Hollering, cheering, squeals and shouts paired with the sight of lovers reuniting, families coming together, men picking up their children and spinning them around in the air. You watch from the kitchen window as you wipe down the dishes, see some people carelessly pick the flowers from your yard to bunch up and give to wives, children, husbands, the like. Normally, you’d scold them for being so careless and probably offer a pair of garden trimmers so that they wouldn't crush the surrounding flowers, but you let it pass. Everyone is happy. The war is over. 

Your mother watches as she stands next to you, handing you over the dishes to dry once she’s finished washing them clean. She looks at you from the corner of her eye, gouging out your reaction before clearing her throat. 

“Do you remember Kiyoomi?”

 You freeze for a second, plate and rag in hand as you try to think. “Mm. No?”

“The Sakusa family?”

“Oh,” And then you start again, rubbing the plate dry. You don’t really remember the boy, only that your mother was friends with his mother and that apparently the two of you played around as young children. You don't remember the last time you saw him. Probably couldn’t even point him out in a crowd.

“He’s coming home.”

“From the war?”

 “Yes.” 

“Would you like me to gather some flowers for him? There’s plenty in the backyard, too. None of the crushed ones.” 

She sighs before placing the plate she held back into the sink, turning to face you entirely. 

She says your name softly. “He’s coming home. Here.” 

“Why? For dinner?”

“No– well, yes– but he’ll be staying here. With us.”

You slowly put out the plate face down on the long countertop cloth to let it air dry. “Since when?”

“We’ve been exchanging letters.”

Ah. You had been wondering what that was about. Each time the mail came in, your mother would scurry to get it before you could, holding it to her chest protectively before gently slicing it open in the study, purposely keeping it from you. You thought she had been exchanging letters with some sort of admirer, so to speak. You thought she’d be afraid to tell you she’s moving on after years of your father’s death. 

She continues, “His parents passed a while back– they both fell ill while he was away. He just needs somewhere to stay in the meantime so he can get back up on his feet. I'm sure there are plenty of other families that would be more than happy to host a soldier, but I suppose he would feel more comfortable here. I mentioned the garden and the chickens and he said he’d help you out with those. Don’t let him, though.”

“Huh? Why not?”

Your mother lightly swats your arm and gives a quiet scold of your name, “He isn't here to work. He’s here to rest. He’s been through a lot, you know. Just let him be while he’s here.”

You roll your eyes. Your mother can tell that you're not really annoyed. 

“He seems very reserved in the letters we exchanged. If he’s formal with you, insist that he don’t be. We are friends of his. Make him feel comfortable, okay?” 

You hum and nod. “Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“When will he be here?”

Your mother nearly answers before you've even finished asking.

“Tomorrow.”

You’re an early bird. Even when you don’t want to be, you must. You have to tend to the chickens in the morning, tidy up and make breakfast for your mother before she goes out to the market to sell the eggs. 

The morning dew that sits atop the grass kisses at your shins as you trudge towards the coop, face lit by the oncoming sunrise. The sky shifts from deep blue to a lighter blue to purples and pinks until the sun finally reaches the top of the sky. 

As you get closer to the coop, you hear the familiar and pesky repetitive clucks, appreciative that the coop is farther out into the yard and not by your window.

You slide the coop door open, stepping to the side as they rush out with curiosity.

“Mornin’ kids,” You start before emptying out their dirty water, tossing it into the grass before turning on the hose to fill up the bin.

You replace the water, give them more food, collect the eggs that are deemed ready, and hang out with them for a good thirty minutes to make sure they’re healthy and roaming around like normal. You sit on the grass, knees to your chest as you absentmindedly say hi to them when they pass by or stare at you.

Once the sun has almost fully risen, you grab the basket of eggs and make your way back into the house, slipping out of your boots before stepping inside.

The morning goes as always; Your mother wakes up, thanks you for handling the chickens, thanks you as you place her breakfast on the table, gathers all the eggs she needs to sell, and kisses your cheek before she heads out to the market. 

“Kiyoomi should be here later, once I’m already home. Please make sure the spare bedroom is clean, with fresh sheets. If he happens to arrive early, be nice.” 

“God, don’t act like I’m insufferable! I won’t drive him out.”

She smiles knowingly. “I know, my dear.” 

She looks like she wants to say more, but swiftly turns on her heel and takes her leave.

The rest of the day is spent cleaning up the spare bedroom to make sure it’s nice and welcoming for when your new guest arrives. You smooth out all the bed linen and wipe down the dressers, making all photo frames and little trinkets look presentable. It doesn't take long for you to set it all up– the bedroom has always been very empty. You wonder how it'll look like when it’s more lived-in, with boots and coats and whatever else he may carry laying around. 

You slip into the kitchen and wash your hands, preparing to make lunch. With the curtains on the kitchen window drawn shut, you fail to see the man that climbs up your porch steps, eyes downcast as he raps his knuckles on the door a few times. 

You freeze in your spot almost violently. It’s much too early for him to be here, and when you glance at the clock on the wall, you’re convinced that it has to be someone else– perhaps the neighbor? 

Drying your hands on the apron tied to your dress, you draw back the kitchen curtain to get a little peep.

You almost squeal as you back away from the window, covering your face with your hands like you’ve just seen something you weren't supposed to– but you had just seen him. He was… big. That’s all you could think.

When you open the front door, the two of you stare at each other, silent. 

Yes, he’s big. Broad shoulders, gifted with height, and his chest seems…. inviting in the military uniform he wears. You finally make eye contact with him, scanning over his handsome features, the two little beauty marks that rest atop his eyebrow, the pretty curve of his lips—

“Hello,” He says with an air of formality, and you clutch at the skirt of your dress.

“Hi… hi.”

He stares at you blankly.

“I, ah— come in, Kiyoomi,” You start, standing to the side as he takes off his boots and leaves them by the door, following diligently as you lead him to his room. He doesn’t even spare a glance to look around the house, eyes trained on your back. 

“Here,” You say, opening the door to his room. “The bathroom is down the hall, my room is right there– right across, and my mother’s room is the farthest one down the hallway. There’s a, um, study if you'd ever like to read or spend some time in there. Do as you like,” You explain gently, a warm smile on your features. “I was just making lunch. Are you hungry? Would you like some?”

“No thank you,” He says immediately, looking down at you. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” 

“Of course! My mother should be here in a few hours. For now, the house is all yours– er, ours, but– well, yeah, yours…” You trail off with embarrassment, looking into his eyes for help, hoping he’ll finish your sentence or laugh it off with you. 

He doesn't. 

As soon as you back away and start walking back to the kitchen, he shuts the door softly and coupes himself up in there. 

You frown to yourself, remembering your mother’s words. He seems very reserved, let him be, he’s been through a lot.

You do just that, careful to not make any noise as you prepare lunch, then sit by yourself at the table to eat. There’s a light clink and clatter of the dishes as you wash them, but you can only hope he doesn’t mind. 

Noon turns into night and you’re still alone. You haven’t heard Kiyoomi leave the room or rummage around at all. It’s like he never even arrived. 

You’re not surprised when your mother comes home and deems the house empty (besides you being there) and exclaims that the both of you must rush and start working on dinner because Kiyoomi deserves nothing but the best. You feel your skin prickle hot for some reason. She wasn’t wrong, but if Kiyoomi had heard her say it, it sounded like she was one of those old ladies who desperately fawn over younger men. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

You laughed nervously and bumped her hip with yours, quietly telling her that he had already arrived. 

She gasps dramatically, hand flying to her heart as she scolds you. 

“Why didn’t you invite him out here to sit with you? Has he eaten lunch? Did you offer him lunch? Goodness, my dear, this is no way to host someone. Ask him to step out! Did you show him around the house, at least? Oh, heavens– did you change the sheets?”

Your ears feel terrifyingly warm, knowing very well that your mother was loud enough for Kiyoomi to hear her through closed doors. Just thinking of him overhearing you get scolded made you want to scuffle away and complain in embarrassment to the chickens. 

“My apologies, miss.”

The both of you whirl around to see Kiyoomi, who looks absolutely delightful, you think. 

His curls are mussed as if he had been sleeping, uniform ditched for a skimpy white undershirt tucked into some slacks, the planes of his chest peeking out and greeting you handsomely. The dog tags that are strung along the chain around his neck glint in the kitchen light, almost like they’re saying Hi. “It’s not her fault, I assure you– I had turned down her offer for lunch, and I just wanted some time to myself after arriving. No hard feelings at all.”

He speaks in such a collected and calm manner, and his face and eyes look empty. He’s good at containing all his emotions. 

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, a wistful smile creeping onto her face. “Oh, my lovely Kiyoomi!” She rushes towards him and cups his face, smushing his cheeks in her hands, beaming up at him. The action makes his eyes widen, hands immediately flying up to push hers away, but he stops himself just in time and lets them fall back to his sides. 

“How you’ve grown! My goodness, it’s been ages, my love, please– please sit down, we’ll make some soup, okay? Just rest. Tell us, how have you been? Any good stories?”

She greets him like a mother would, and for a second, you think you see his features relax. Not wanting to get caught ogling at him, you turn and face the cutting board, lining up all the vegetables needed for the soup. 

The two talk the entire time, your mother silently leaving the task of cooking up to you. You don’t mind at all, keeping your back to the both of them to hide the look of shyness on your face. Every time Kiyoomi speaks, you feel your hands stutter. 

The conversation is mostly your mother gushing over him and how much he’s grown, telling him he’s such a handsome young man, asking him how his trip over here went, and then she asks him if there is a woman in his life. You know that it would be normal for him to feel a little flabbergasted from such a question, but you don’t know why you feel so embarrassed as well. 

You figure it’s because if he says he does have a special someone in his life, your mother would turn around and berate you (in front of him) for not being ‘out there’ enough and for not seeing someone already. 

To your surprise, he weakly mentions that no, he doesn’t have anyone like that in his life. He quickly excuses it by saying that he had been too busy during the war to worry about such things. 

Your mother laughs good-naturedly, flailing her hand around, “Oh, of course. Silly me!”

By the time your mother opens her mouth to tell him that there are plenty of riveting people around town that he may like, you announce with your back still facing them, “Soup’s ready.” 

You serve your mother and Kiyoomi, keeping your head down as you approach him and place his bowl on the table. He thanks you in a quiet, rumbly voice that makes you go completely still for a split second. 

Conversation dies down as the three of you eat. Your mother has pulled out as much as she can from Kiyoomi. He avoided a lot of questions about the war, about his experiences, about what he saw. You can’t help but wonder. 

Your mother interrupts the silence as she subtly turns to face you. 

“How are the vegetables doing?”

“Growing,” Is all you respond as you stuff another spoonful of soup into your mouth. She’s grasping at straws to not let the atmosphere turn awkward. 

You figure that if Kiyoomi is going to be staying here, may as well be casual, treat him like anyone else (despite the fact that he looks like he came down straight from Heaven). 

You shift in your chair, the wood creaking. “Tomorrow, could you buy some more flower seeds from the market? You can pick which. I need to fill in the spaces that were crushed yesterday from all the people.” 

Her eyes light up, “Of course, dearie. Thank you for reminding me.” 

The two of you talk about mundane things for the rest of dinner, topics you usually discuss. Kiyoomi finds it comforting. Makes him feel more at home. 

The next morning, you rise before the sun kisses the sky, as always.

You pull on the short linen clothing you use for working, old stains of mud and grass forever tainting the articles. As quietly as you can, you pad around the house before reaching the back porch, tugging on your work boots before stepping into the fresh morning grass. 

Unbeknownst to you, Kiyoomi is also an early riser, a habit that he has cultivated over years of training. He watches you from the backyard’s dutch door, the top half open. He rests his elbows on the bottom half and leans forward, watching and listening as you greet and coo at the chickens like they’re your children. His eyebrows twitch up when he hears you reprimand one– Stop putting grass in the water, Harold! 

After you dump out the water, you pick up the water bucket and take it over to the pump, working the water into it. With your back turned to Kiyoomi, you don’t hear as he steps through the grass towards you. 

“Good morning,” He greets politely, and you yelp.

Whirling around with the half-full bucket in hand, the water flies out and crashes right into him, soaking his torso and the entirety of his pants. 

You drop the bucket.

“Oh my gosh– oh, Kiyoomi— I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry, oh my goodness– I didn’t– I’m so sorry—”

You're petting his torso worriedly, as if your hands will soak up all the water that has been spilled. He knows you have good intentions and are just trying to help somehow get the water to dry, but your touch makes him stiffen.

You’re repeating that you're sorry, and the more that you ramble on, the more he can hear the tremor in your voice as you squeak and swallow and try to push this upcoming embarrassment down. Kiyoomi lifts his hands and places them right on your arms, completely stilling you. “It's fine.” 

It comes out clipped, like it's not really fine, but you can’t tell if he's annoyed. His face remains stoic. 

“I’m so sorry,” You whisper.

“It's okay. You weren't aware that I was here. I understand.” 

You look over him again, the bottom half of his cotton shirt soaked and his pants clinging onto his legs like paint. You’re so embarrassed and ashamed that you can't even find it in yourself to admire him. 

“You’ll– you’ll get sick. Let’s go inside,” You plead, stepping away from his touch and gathering your skirt in your hands to run back into the house, hastily kicking off your boots before prying the bottom half of the door open.

He watches you scurry around the house to make him some tea, pouring water into the kettle and sorrowfully letting him know it’s gonna take a few minutes. You advise that he changes but don’t push it on him too much, not wanting to be over controlling.

He disappears into the room and shuts the door, and you plop onto the dining table chair. Resting your head in your hands, you mentally chastise yourself for messing up like this, and on the first day that he's been here, too. 

The kettle whistles. You pick yourself up to see Kiyoomi already looking at you, in a pair of clean clothes. Embarrassment crawls up your spine. 

“I’m sorry.” You say again, turning to silence the kettle and pour the water into a mug before adding a few loose tea leaves. 

“I’ve already forgiven you.” 

“I know, I know but– I’m really sorry.”

He only sighs. You take that as a sign he’s frustrated. 

“I’m stepping back outside,” You say, “Still have to get stuff done.” 

He nods stiffly. You walk with your tail between your legs to the backyard porch, putting on your boots and this time shutting both halves of the dutch door.

You confide and whine to the chickens as you clean up and spread out their food.

Despite the incident, Kiyoomi insists that he help you out in the mornings. He follows you out to the back porch and manages to slip past the threshold before you can shut the bottom half of the dutch door to trap him inside (he can always just open the door and walk by, but you tell him it’s the prospect of trapping him inside that matters the most. His eyebrow twitches at that). 

He lingers as you talk to the chickens, which you do quietly now that you know that he’s there. He pretends to look away when you tell Harold good morning. 

When you finish saying your greetings to the birds, you tell him to go back inside. This is your job only and he should take this time to rest or get some extra hours of sleep– but he insists. He tells you he can’t sleep for any longer, he’s spent years rising early and getting straight to work and if he were to lay in bed he’d just lay restless. 

You know your mother will scold you later, but you offer him some work to do anyway. You tell him to replace the water while you give them fresh food. And he does so gladly, falling into a rhythm with you that, if a stranger looked at the scene, would convince them that he belongs here and always has. 

There’s this sort of look of serenity on his face, like he’s content to be doing something rather than staying in the house (which is what your mother has been pressuring him to do). 

The rising sun kisses his face, reminding you of his beauty. His skin practically glows and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on the moles on his forehead. 

In this kind of lighting, you see faded scars on his hands and arms, earned from hardwork and fighting and war and other things you cannot even imagine. They make him seem gruff (more than he already is) and in a way, scary. But the way he handles the chickens and the land and the water with such a tender touch tells you otherwise. For a brief second, you wonder if he would hold you with such care as well. You shoo the thought away. 

Kiyoomi stays with you while you watch over the chickens. He stands while you sit on the grass.

“Talk to them,” You encourage. 

He lifts an eyebrow. “And what should I say?”

“Ask them how they are.” 

Kiyoomi clears his throat and looks at one of the chickens, “My… My dear Harold,” He starts, “I hope you are in good health.” 

You laugh, “So formal, Sakusa.”

He finds himself humming. Humming. Humming in amusement.

When you're done with the chickens, you tell him he can go back inside and relax while you check up on all the vegetables, but he tells you he wants to help with that too.

You untie your apron and start checking on and picking the ripe vegetables, bundling them in the cloth. Kiyoomi, truthfully, seems a little lost as he handles pulling out the vegetables and leafy greens with a sort of hesitance as if he’s afraid to hurt them. You scoot over closer to him and offer some help. 

“They won’t cry in agony, Kiyoomi.” 

“I–” He starts, embarrassed. “You mistake me.” 

“How so?”

He doesn’t answer, runs out of excuses. Suddenly Kiyoomi thinks the sun feels warmer when your hands brush over his own to guide him, encouraging him to pluck at the vegetables. He gets the hang of it, bundling up all the produce in your apron before the two of you make your way back inside. 

When your mother sees the both of you step in, kicking off your boots and hands stained with dirt, she tsks at you. 

“I specifically told you not to ask for any help.” 

Embarrassment blooms in the depths of your chest. Getting scolded in front of Kiyoomi will be the death of you. You want to defend yourself but you don’t want to throw him under the bus, either. You hold the bundle of vegetables and greens closer to your chest, almost protectively. 

“She did no such thing,” Kiyoomi interjects before your mother can continue. He stands tall, seems bigger, voice collected but strong enough to cause the both of you to jump. It’s been ages since you and your mother have been in the presence of someone as powerful as Kiyoomi. 

He visibly slackens, clears his throat. “She didn’t ask for my help– told me to go inside, actually. I took it upon myself to help her.” 

“Oh,” Your mother breathes out, tone suddenly sweet and forgiving. “I see.” 

The silence that rests between the three of you could pierce your ears. You skitter into the kitchen to wash all that you’ve collected and leave your mom and Kiyoomi alone. In a matter of seconds, she’s already cooing at him and telling him that there’s no need for him to be working, it’s fine if he wants to rest inside, there’s plenty of time for him to spend his days off. He’s silent in response. 

After you make breakfast and your mother leaves for the market, you gather all the dishes and make a beeline for the sink, pouring hot water over the dishes to scrub them clean. 

Kiyoomi follows up behind you, rolling up the sleeves of his cotton shirt, bunching it up right above his elbows. You watch as he leans forward to grab a washcloth, swallowing when you see his dog tags swing low as he dips down. They clink back onto his chest when he stands upright. 

“Thank you,” He says suddenly, eyes focused on the plate in his hands as he wipes it in a circular motion. 

“What for? I should be the one thanking you, Kiyoomi. You defended me in front of my mother.” 

He takes a second to formulate what he wants to say. “I must thank you for letting me work with you. I know your mother has good intentions, and I appreciate that she insists I rest.” 

You tilt your head up at him, silently asking if he will continue. 

Kiyoomi, unbeknownst to you, is facing an internal battle with himself. Years of being in war and surrounded by men who believe vulnerability is weakness often leaves him staying quiet in moments where he wishes to speak. He mulls over what he wants to say again, wondering if you’d laugh him off and tell him to not be silly. But he knows that you sense something is up, your eyes taking on a glimmer of understanding and kindness before you look down at your plate. “I won’t force it out of you, Kiyoomi.” 

He looks at you affectionately, but you miss it as you stack the plate on the counter. 

“Well, since you’re practically pleading me to share my thoughts, I’ll tell you.” 

That makes you laugh. You laugh a gentle little laugh, and Kiyoomi has to turn back and face the dishes so that he doesn’t lose his thoughts. 

“Your mother, I… I know she means no harm. I know that she may believe that I need rest and time and some sort of recuperation period. I don’t mean to be rude, but she… it feels as if she is doing worse than good, for me.” 

You nearly freeze on the spot, worried about what he’ll say next. You’re scared that you and your mother have ruined his whole stay. 

Kiyoomi breathes out your name, “I assure you that I am not a wounded dog that must be left alone to rest and sleep the pain away. I want to live a normal life, now. I’ve faced enough estrangement in the war. Please, allow me to work and live with you just as anyone else would.” 

It’s a simple, simple request. A simple request that would have anyone cheering and clapping and showing him to the damaged flowers in the front yard and putting him right to work. It’s a simple request that makes your heart clench and twist in the caverns of your chest, knowing that he wants to live a life of normality and serenity. Knowing that he has opened up to you about being shunned away. It makes you feel trusted, and in a way, sought out. 

You’re silent for a beat too long and Kiyoomi looks like he wants to scrub away all the words he just said with the way he resumes at washing his plate. As you set another one to dry, you tell him calmly, to prevent the feeling of pity arising in the air, “Of course, Kiyoomi.” 

The corners of his lips twitch up when you tell him the bushes out front need to be trimmed. 

You tell your mother of Kiyoomi’s request that same night, and she scoffs and frowns and throws a little fit before she caves. She initially insists that you only give him light work, but eats up her words at the glower you throw her way. 

He helps you trim the bushes, the weeds, helps you with the vegetables and the chickens and watches eagerly as you prepare food so that he can take on that task later on. 

You stir the soup around in the pot, sprinkling in some herbs and seasonings to add some more flavor. He asks you how much you use, you tell him you just know in your heart when to stop. When the kitchen falls quiet, you pick on him and teasingly ask, And how should you cook? And he answers, suppressing a laugh and an eye roll, With love. 

You peer down into the pot. 

“Okay. Kiyoomi, I am trusting you to deem it ready. Have a taste. The fate of this dinner falls on you.” 

He bites his cheek at your dramatics.

You bring the ladle up to his lips and Kiyoomi has to lean forward a little to meet you halfway. You press the spoon to his lips and he lets the liquid in, his eyes locked on yours as he takes a sip. You feel small in some invigorating, exciting way. 

He pulls away to think about the taste. “A little more rosemary.” 

You eye him carefully but take his word, dipping the ladle back into the pot and sprinkling in a few more leaves. After a few stirs, you scoop the liquid back into the spoon and hold it up to him again. 

He leans forward without being told, almost eager to have you press it to his mouth. Again, he keeps his eyes trained on your face as he has a taste. 

When you pull the ladle away, he remains close to you, face inches away from your own. 

Your fingers twitch. 

“Yes,” He breathes out, your lashes flutter. “It’s ready. Made with love.” 

You can’t tell if your mind is playing tricks on you, but he seems to be inching closer and closer, your grip tightening on the end of the ladle as you start freezing up, debating whether or not to shut your eyes. 

You watch as his pretty eyes close, and with your heart leaping and palms sweating around the ladle from nervousness and the heat that remains in the small space between you two, you let your eyes slip shut. 

You know it– you know it, it’s coming, his lips right against yours, you think you can already taste him—

“I’ve arrived early!”

The both of you jump backwards and the ladle collides with the floor. 

“S-Sorry,” You whisper to Kiyoomi, picking up the ladle and tossing it in the sink before grabbing a different one off the kitchen rack. His shoulders sag and you think you hear him sigh, but he composes himself quickly as your mother makes her way into the kitchen. 

She sees the two of you in front of the soup pot and beams, missing how stiff the both of you look and how you’re wiping your sweaty hands on your apron.

“Teaching Kiyoomi how to cook? Good! Good good, more men should partake in household chores. I cannot wait to taste how Kiyoomi’s soup comes out, should he cook for us soon.” 

He nods curtly, watching as you dip the new ladle into the liquid. You look shaken up, movements jagged and nervous, and he fears he’s done something terribly wrong.

“Did you teach him the most fundamental lesson in cooking, dearie?”

At that, a smile slips onto your face. 

“Yes. Cook with love.”

When the three of you eat dinner together, Kiyoomi mulls over the fact that it was made with love. Your love. He wants to eat so much that he feels full of your affections. He wants so much of it that he cannot help but decline anyone else who offers food, because he’ll be full of your love. 

You two never bring up the almost-kiss. Kiyoomi is scared that he’s pushed a boundary and you’re scared that you misread the situation– so the two of you remain silent and try to fall back into the familiar pattern of days, the rhythm you two share. 

The tension is nearly unbearable when the two of you are less than two feet apart. It almost hurts. It hurts Kiyoomi to look at you so longingly and you never notice. It hurts you when you try to scoot a little closer and all he does is move away. You think it's because he's disgusted with you. He just wants you to feel comfortable. 

Days pass and the both of you pack the incident up and back away into the furthest crevice in your minds. Everything seems alright again– you both talk to the chickens, trim the flowers and cook dinner by each other's side.

You’re preparing to cook and pull your apron off the hook rack that’s nailed right by the kitchen entrance. Kiyoomi watches as you slip it on and watches when you huff in frustration as you try to reach behind yourself and tie it off. Your arms start getting sore from the awkward position they've been in, the apron straps unraveling again and again in protest. You’re about to let the damn thing flail loose until you hear Kiyoomi clear his throat behind you. 

“Let me help.”

Your cheeks burn. 

He delicately takes the straps into his hands, making the base knot against your back and pulling it. “Is that good?” 

It’s a little loose. 

“Tighter, please.”

He pulls. It’s almost like you’re drawn backward, nearly knocking into his chest. He starts tying up a little bow and you feel the brush of his fingers against the small of your back, shivers running up your spine and shoulders. You have to hold yourself back from twitching. 

“There,” He says, taking a step back and admiring his handiwork. He keeps his eyes trained on the bow, tries to hold himself back from drinking in your entire figure. 

It’s oddly domestic, intimate. It has you drifting off in thought, has you confirming all your wonders about his touch that had crowded your mind ever since that day when you saw him pull out the vegetables. He is gentle. You can only hope that the softness of his touch is a testament to his feelings (more specifically, his feelings about you). 

You cough. You make it awkward. You thank him in a quiet, choked up voice before gathering all the pots needed for dinner before scrambling away to start on the food. Kiyoomi thinks he made you uneasy and this time, stands farther away from you when you show him how to prepare the food. Your heart aches at the same time as his. Both of you are back to square one. 

The following days are painfully repetitive. It’s a cycle of the two of you falling back into place, and then your hands brush his, or you catch him staring, or you lean in too close to him, and then the both of you are creating more distance and relapsing into silence and copious amounts of space. 

On this particular night, the two of you are sitting far apart, him on the rocking chair with an open book, and you on the other side of the living room, pressed into the far corner of the couch, embroidery hoop in hand. 

You could trick yourself into thinking that there’s a sense of peace that blankets the two of you, a scene of quiet comfort and domesticity before there’s a dull knock on the door. 

You both freeze. You’re the first one to get up to go check, and Kiyoomi is a little too late in his reaction as he tries to tell you that he’ll get it, a weird sense of protectiveness overcoming him. 

The door is already open and the air is knocked out of your lungs. 

Before you stands a tall, handsome man, brown hair slightly disheveled, a smile growing as he looks down at you. He is very attractive. But not as charming as Kiyoomi, a voice in your head whispers. 

“Well, well, well,” He starts, leaning onto the door frame. “Didn’t know Omi was staying with a pretty little lady.” 

“Miya,” You hear from behind you, nearly jumping as your skin burns hot knowing there are two striking men trapping you. 

“Ah! My old friend!” The man cheers, his eyes searching yours for approval to step inside. Without any hesitation, you grant him access, slowly backpedaling into Kiyoomi’s chest with a squeak before he moves out of the way, the two of you letting the man inside (much to Kiyoomi’s dismay). 

“Miya,” Kiyoomi starts again, gaze hardened. “What are you doing here?” 

“Don’t be like that, my good friend,” The man, Miya, repeats. “Hurts when you address me by last name.” 

Kiyomi doesn’t retort. He won’t play into the man’s tricks of beating around the bush. 

Finally, he fesses up. 

“Bo and Shoyo and I are going to meet up at the pub in a bit, thought you’d like to come along.” 

You see Kiyoomi make a face. 

“I have suffered enough from your presence over the last few years. Please do not try to rope me back into your antics.” 

“Omi!” The grown man whines, face falling before he remembers that you’re standing there. Slowly, his face shifts into a wicked smile, and Kiyoomi’s frown deepens. 

“Ah ah ah,” He starts, dipping down and leaning in closer as if he’s examining you. “I know why you’re so adamant about staying. Find yourself a pretty little wife?” 

The both of you choke. 

You’re about to protest, but Kiyoomi is pushing Miya out the door, effectively letting you hide behind the broad expanse of his back, but you peek out from behind him to see what’s happening. 

“If I– If I go with you this time, will you swear to not come back?”

“Don’t be like that, Omi.”

“Miya.”

“Just say Atsumu! And fine! I won’t visit after this. Won’t steal your pretty lady away.”

“You are unbearable.”

Your cheeks feel hot as Kiyoomi turns around to face you, face irritated. 

“I’ll be on my way. I should be back before it gets too dark out. Please stay safe.” 

You give him a meek goodbye as you watch him pull his coat from the rack next to the door and slide it on, watch closely as he threads his arms through the sleeves, watch as the article fits snugly against his form, watch as he again proves that he is a sight for sore eyes. 

After you shut and lock the door, you rush to the kitchen window to get a peek at the both of them descending the porch stairs, watch as Atsumu laughs and hangs close to Kiyoomi as the latter tries again and again to maintain the space between them and throws unimpressed looks his way. 

When your mother comes home, you tell her Kiyoomi went out with his friends. She smiles and thanks the heavens, happy that he’s finally getting out there. She tells you she hopes he finds someone he may like while he’s out.

You only hum in response. 

Hours pass and Kiyoomi is still out. You and your mother have already eaten dinner and she’s already fast asleep. You’re already in your nightgown and tired of waiting around. 

You step outside and stand by the chicken coop. You watch them sleep and some of them scatter around and you talk to them as if you’re sending wishes to the universe. Tell them you hope Kiyoomi is okay. Tell them you hope he gets home safe. 

As soon as you’re stepping back inside the house, there are drunken laughs and weak knocks at the front door. Not wanting to seem too excited, you take a few deep breaths to pass time before you hear that Miya boy holler out a muffled Pretty lady, come and get him! Which is nearly cut off by a familiar groan. Kiyoomi throws some swear words around. 

You open the door and find that the two of them were using it as support as they nearly fall into you. Atsumu catches you before you can trip on your own feet and fall backward. 

“Hi,” He breathes out into your face, and you have to hold back from scrunching your nose. He smells of liquor but his steady arms keep you rooted in place, his physique nearly swallowing you whole. 

“Hello,” You start, hyper aware of how you look and if you have any blemishes on your face and how close the two of you are, but before you can think of anything else to find a flaw in, Atsumu is pulled back by Kiyoomi. 

“Stop terrorizing my host,” Kiyoomi hiccups out, trying his hardest to remain stern and imposing, but his friend only laughs brightly.

Atsumu slurs out your name, “You must know,” He starts, leaning his arm on the door frame, trying to pose coolly. “Omi mentioned you an awful lot tonight. Think he might have taken a—” 

“Miya.” 

“Yes, my most beloved Omi,” Atsumu professes, cheeks pink and dewy from all the alcohol. “I’ll leave you two be.” 

He clumsily spins on his heel, trips on his way down the steps, and crushes another flower bush. 

Your eyes flash with pain and Kiyoomi shuts the door before you can see Atsumu trip into anything else. He’s rather good at composing himself, straightening his face and posture as he looks at you. 

“Would you like some dinner?”

“Yes, please.”

You find out soon that Kiyoomi is mouthy when he’s drunk. After you reheat what was left over from dinner and slide the plate towards him, he asks that you sit down with him. His face flashes with disappointment when you sit across from him instead of right by his side. 

In his drunken state, he spills all that he’s kept inside without you even needing to probe. Tells you he plans to get going soon, has his eye on a place, tells you he's ready to move on and start life from scratch. He tells you he's tired of you avoiding him like the plague, but there's no malice behind his voice– only pure disappointment, like he’s sulking. At that, you perk up and lean forward, guiltily trying to fish some more out of him.

“Hate that you stay so far away,” He grumbles before stuffing his fork in his mouth. “Always jumping and skittering around me like I’m, I’m– frightening. Hate that you think I’m scary.” 

He hates that you keep your distance, hates that you've deemed him untouchable, hates that you see him as some warlord man who will crush you beneath the soles of his shoes if you utter something incorrectly. 

“Miya,” He suddenly blurts, and for a second you think he thinks you’re the man that just left. 

“Miya told me to confess to you.” 

Your blood runs cold. Confess…? 

Kiyoomi is quiet after that, finishing up his food with sad eyes. He wants more and more and more, any drop of your love that he can get, he will take it. 

You don't ask if he means confessing by telling you all that he hates or if he means confessing something else. Something else that has your stomach stirring, heart doing odd twists as your fist the skirt of your dress. It's hard to think about it when he's right in front of you and slurring his words and clumsily pushing his plate away. It's something you must think about later, in the solace of your own room. 

When he’s done, you help him shrug off his coat, watch as the expanse of his back reveals himself to you. You guide him to his room, expecting him to close the door as soon as he steps in again, but this time, he turns to face you and leans on the frame. He swallows as he looks over you, eyes droopy and tired, and he looks so vulnerable in this light. He’s loosened up, mouth parted only slightly as he lets his eyes wander where he usually doesn't when sober, lets his mind think what he usually holds back on any other day. 

He breathes out your name. You look up at him curiously. 

“I wish you could come with me.” 

You stiffen. You gently place your hands on his chest and push him back into his room slowly– your touch makes him smile. 

“Goodnight, Kiyoomi,” is all you say. 

“Goodnight, angel.” 

Just like the almost-kiss, neither of you bring up what Kiyoomi said that night. It's an elephant in the room– at least, to you. You’re not sure if Kiyoomi even remembers what he said. (He does). 

The two of you delve into another game of dancing around each other in circles, putting on a show that makes it seem like everything's alright and that your hearts don’t ache. Neither of you are aware that when night falls and you're in your respective rooms, the both of you dwell and worry about what you've said and done. 

As of late, Kiyoomi hasn't been around. He still helps you with his morning tasks, but after breakfast, he slips out of the house and tells you he will be searching around town for work with his friend Miya. You know that he doesn't owe you any explanations, but some part of you appreciates it. 

(Kiyoomi knows this, too. He wants you to know he isn't seeking anyone else out there).

Day in and day out, he's around less and less. You start to think that Kiyoomi is now trying to get rid of his feelings ever since you didn't exactly reciprocate what he said that night, when he was drunk.

One heartbreaking evening, Kiyoomi announces that he’ll be leaving soon over dinner. Your mother has a big smile on her face as she congratulates him and cups his face and cries on and on about how proud she is and that he deserves all the best. You nod along to everything that she says, but your vision blurs and all the twines of your fork blend together and it’s hard to see what you’re eating. It's even harder to hold back your sniffles as she starts asking him where he’ll move and where he’ll be working and if he's met anyone. She's always on his back about that last one. It makes your heart feel bitter and heavy. 

The next morning, your mother insists that she go out to the market and get Kiyoomi some farewell gifts. He reassures her that she doesn't really have to, tries to convince her to stay as she's already putting on her coat, and then she's walking out the door. 

Kiyoomi asks if you could help him tidy up before he leaves. It’s more of a statement than a question, so you oblige. 

You help him take off his sheets and load them into a basket to wash later. You wipe down the dresser and the desk, help sweep the floors, help him fold his clothing neatly so that his suitcase shuts securely. 

When everything's done, you wipe your hands nervously on your apron and give him a curt nod, turning to leave the room.

“Stay,” He suddenly blurts, fists clenching at his sides. “I have to tell you something before I go.” 

And so you turn and face him, letting your hands fall to your sides. He steps closer to you. 

“Before I go,” He starts, eyes scanning your face for any emotion, but he gets nothing. You look numb. 

“I don’t expect anything from you in return, but I must tell you, or else I don’t think I can live with myself. You,” He hesitates, feeling like he instead wants to turn away and save it for another day. 

The curious glimmer in your eye pulls him back in. 

“You have captured my heart,” Kiyoomi says breathlessly, “The entirety of my soul. I have no regrets in opening myself up to you, in letting you in, and I can say that you have made me a better man. I want to be vulnerable with you as I am now, time and time again. I want us to be one, but to be our own all at once.” 

His eyes search yours frantically, “I love you.” 

Your mouth drops open. 

Hands shaky, you try smoothing out your dress and formulating a response, the right response, one that tells him you feel the same.

Kiyoomi begins to lean away, taking a step back, face calm. “As I’ve said, I don’t expect anything from you in return. You can leave, if you wish.” 

You stay rooted still. 

“Kiyoomi,” You finally squeak, voice cracking like you're on the verge of tears. The tone of it makes him stand up a little straighter, like he's worried about what he's done, but then you're beckoning him forward with your hand.  

He comes in closer, approaching you like you’re injured- gentle and calm like he mustn't startle you any further. You try to lean into him, try to pull him closer, hands wrapping around his shirt and bringing him towards yourself, voice shaky as you manage to get out, “And I you.” 

It’s all he needs. It’s all he needs before he’s dipping down, lips slotting against your own as you sigh out wantonly. Days and weeks and months of pent up feelings and unspoken words all pour out in one kiss, a kiss that has you stumbling backward and grasping at his shirt, his hands roaming down your back and pulling you into him, closer and closer and closer, like he is going to fuse the two of you together. 

(He wants to). 

It isn’t long until you find yourself pressed into his bed, both of your clothes thrown into some corner of the room, underwear torn off as he hovers above you, licking into your mouth and grinding against your cunt. 

“Kiyoomi,” You whimper once he pulls away. “Please.”

He dips down again to kiss and nip at your chest, the metal of his tags stinging your skin and giving you shivers. Kiyoomi hums into your shoulder, licks a stripe up your neck before lifting himself off the bed, planting his hands on your hips. He drags you closer to him, lifting you up as he drags his cock over your warmth. 

“Such a pretty little cunt,” he groans as he slips in, eyes falling shut when you immediately flutter around him. Kiyoomi almost falters, almost curls in on himself and leans atop of you again before he collects himself and starts dragging his cock in and out, hissing at the way you clamp down on him. 

It’s a build up, Kiyoomi starting gentle and slow until you’re bucking up your hips and whining at him to go faster, till the only thing you can get out is a weak string of please please please. 

Kiyoomi cages you beneath him again as he starts drilling into you, broken cries slipping past your lips as your hands race up and down his back, leaving light scratches that make him moan so prettily right by your ear. 

He brings his hands to your thighs, pushing them up and trapping them against your chest and your eyes roll back, body falling pliant to him. He’s so close, all up in your face and humming about how wet you are for him, how fucking good you feel, how you’re made for me, doll, all for me.

His breath fans your face as he thrusts into you desperately, making the bed shake. The tags on his chain bump into your chin, clinking softly like little chimes and bringing you back time and time again as your mind spirals under the feeling of him pounding into you. Kiyoomi grunts and lifts himself up for the fastest second, taking the tags in hand and ripping the chain off his neck, metal grazing the wood floor as it slides away. His irritation with it makes you want to laugh, but the sound gets caught in your throat as his cock hits the sweetest spot in you, making your toes curl as you cry out his name. 

He watches you as your hands sneak down, nimble fingers spreading apart your folds to try and get a good look at his length sliding in and out of you. Kiyoomi looks down, watches the spot where the two of you meet, watches as his dick comes out covered in slick before pushing himself back in. 

“Fuck, fuck, angel, you’re so– so good, such a good girl for me.”

Your head bobbles up and down in a nod, weakly whimpering out his name, “I want to cum, please let me– let me cum all over you, Kiyoomi!” 

He shudders, hand coming up to grab at your jaw. “Look at me. Look at me when you cum.” 

You sob out pathetically, legs shaking and twitching as you tighten around him, gushing for what seems like hours until you fall limp, tears invading your vision. Kiyoomi murmurs praises into your cheek before planting both hands on your hips again, using you to reach his high, and you let him, let yourself be his little doll. 

You feel his warm seed trickle into you, stomach fluttering at the sensation before he collapses on top of you. 

Kiyoomi nestles his face into your chest for a few minutes before rolling onto his side, cupping your cheek with his big hand. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” 

You nodded, trying to scoot in closer to him, albeit weakly. 

“I love you, Kiyoomi.” 

He smiles. He’s beautiful, you think. He opens his mouth to return the affection, your hand coming up to brush his curls away, but there’s a telltale sound at the door that alarms the both of you. 

In an instant, you two are up, laughing and tripping over your own feet, Kiyoomi hustling into his slacks as you awkwardly slide your dress back on, thumping into the footboard of the bed as your mother chirps out like a bird, “I’m home!” 

“Your mother,” Kiyoomi says in a hushed tone, leaning close to you as he buttons up his shirt, “Always has to go and interrupt us.” 

You smile up at him cheekily, and he catches the mischievousness in your eyes. 

“Just means that you must take me with you, I presume?” 

You step out into the grass of the backyard, the sun already hanging in the sky since you’re a little bit late to your task. Nonetheless, you head straight towards the chicken coop and unfasten the doors, the chickens pouring out and clucking around obnoxiously, as they always have. The rest is muscle memory– throw out the old water, replace it, add in fresh food, sit with the chickens. The familiarity of it all soothes you– not that you need soothing. You simply feel in touch with your roots again. 

“Good morning, Harold.” You jeer at one particular chicken, who eyes you warily. You laugh. “Now don’t be jealous, I’ll always come back to check on you.” 

He gives an approving cluck. 

You gather yourself and get back up, slipping off your boots on the back porch. As you approach the dutch door, you see someone already leaning onto the bottom half of it, a little bouquet in hand. 

“He told me to give this to you,” Your mother swoons, holding out the bundle of flowers to you. A laugh bubbles at your lips as you observe the flowers, holding the stems together, “Aren’t these from the front yard? Such a romantic,” You joke, rolling your eyes as you make your way inside. You tuck the flowers into one of your mother’s vases to keep them safe. 

“I’ll get started on breakfast,” You call out, despite it already being later in the day and, technically, lunch time would be rolling around. 

“Oh no no,” You mother gasps, a sound that you had become all too familiar with when Kiyoomi was around, when she’d clutch her chest in shock. 

“You rest, my dear, I’ll start working on the food.” 

“Mother,” You press, “You need to go rest. That’s the exact reason why we came over here!”

“Nonsense!” She chimes, pushing you down to sit at the dining table as she pads over to the kitchen. You remain still for a few moments to appease her, but then the front door creaks open and you’re on your feet immediately. 

“Hi lover,” You say almost bashfully as Kiyoomi approaches you, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he sinks down to kiss your forehead, your chin, your lips. 

“Hi, my little doll,” he mutters against you before pulling away. “Did you like the flowers I got you?” 

You laugh, observing the green and brown stains on his white undershirt, evidence of his hard work in the front yard. “I shouldn’t be praising a thief, seeing as you took my mother’s flowers right from her yard.” 

“Oh?” He suddenly challenges, “I think this thief deserves a little praise, seeing as I successfully made your heart mine.” 

You can’t help but scoff, tongue poking at your cheek with how embarrassing he is, how corny he’s become now that he’s in love. 

Your mother scurries back in with two plates in hand, telling you both to Sit, sit! like dogs, and Kiyoomi looks at you with a knowing smile on his face. Always interrupting things.

As the three of you start eating, your mother points her fork accusingly at you. 

“And you, my sweet girl, better eat up. You need more nutrients for when a baby is on the way.” 

You choke. Kiyoomi smiles into his cup as he takes a sip. 

“We’re not expecting,” You scold, stabbing your fork into your food. “You can’t just say things like that, mother—”

“How come? You never know! With the two of you in that new big home, you’ll surely want to fill in some space. You’re young! There’s no shame!” 

“You’re the one who may as well fill up the space, visiting nearly every day!” 

“Oh honey, I’m just excited for you—” 

The bickering is all in good fun, Kiyoomi knows. He takes your hand into his underneath the table, finger brushing against the golden band that encompasses your own. 

Yes, he thinks to himself, heart swelling. Perhaps it’s time to start filling up the space.

#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa smut #sakusa kiyoomi smut #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #sakusa fluff

[multifariousqueer]

hear me out— crazy and openly flirty! reader with her crazy and jealous bf Miles 42. Expand on that however you want

Okay so I had a thought...

A/n: Keep requesting fics as always. I’m not gonna be as active but I’ll post as often as I can bc I’m going on vacation for a week but idk, ill prolly still post a ton 💀

Warnings: Mentions of blood, implied murd3r, you being a flirt and Miles being crazy asf, lmk if I forgot some

It seemed like a pretty normal day, you were designing some stuff for one of your classes and y/f/n(your crush/friend) decided to tag along. Y’all weren’t that close but everyone could tell there were sparks between you two, even more so than your boyfriend Miles.

Everyone(even y/f/n) knew that you two were dating and were happy but they still interfered. People claimed you were a slut and you were insane and you were forcing Miles into a relationship even though, people close to y’all claimed it to be the opposite. You never really broke the habit of flirting for fun and this pissed Miles off to no end:

“Y/n he thinks you’re single” Miles would say

“Well I’m not. I’m just naturally flirty” you would defend

“You’re also beautiful mami and people want to take advantage of that” Miles said

“Well thats why I have you” you would say, standing on your tiptoes to kiss Miles

“Mmm he better watch himself, let’s just say that next time he pulls that shit, I might not be so nice"

Miles was a wonderful boyfriend but your exact opposite. Where you were bright, happy, always had a smile on your face and friendly; Miles was dark, nonchalant, cold and walked around like his opps were around the corner, about to kill you. You two shared a few things though, you were both crazy and possessive of each other. If Miles spoke to a girl you didn’t know, you would come over and kiss him, touch him, and flirt with him; making him flustered

“Miles, te necisito, papi” you would flirt while tilting your head and rubbing his lower back

“Oh! Who is this?” the girl asked, with a hint of venom in her voice

“I’m Y/n but you can call me his wife” you said, putting out your hand for her to shake

“Girl chill, we’re 16. He ain’t marrying you anytime soon” the girl clapped back

“You don’t know me.” Miles would say coldly to the girl

“And you won’t get the chance to” you would finish and smile at the girl

The girl walked away in a huff after that and Miles smirked at you:

“You jealous ma?"

“No. I just don’t want people pushing up on my man” you said

He chuckled and said:

“Don’t worry, Mami; I’m not feeling no one else but you."

After this little escapade; You and Miles had the mutual agreement to stop flirting with other people and you held up your end of that well until y/f/n came along and kept pressuring you to go out with them and give them a chance:

“You know, if you were with me, I’d never let you out of my sight. Anywhere you go, I’d go. Class? I’ll carry your books. Home? I’m right behind you. The Bathroom? I’m-“ they started

“You’re what? No. Go ahead and continue that sentence, I dare you” Miles said suddenly

“MILES!!! Thank God you’re here, I was so scared” you said, clapping your hands together like a prayer had been answered(because it had).

“Dude, chill; I was just joking. Y/n knows I’d never overstep like that, bro” y/f/n said, holding out a hand in an attempt to dap your boyfriend up

“I’m not your ‘bro’ homeboy, watch how you step, it might be your last if you keep fucking with my girl like that” Miles said taking a step towards the person. They were almost equal height but Miles was slightly taller(6’2 yes ik its not canon and idc)

It seemed like they would fight right there in the hallway with the way Miles was staring at y/f/n and while y/f/n was a bit intimidated, they weren’t backing down. They were another one of your victims of over-flirtation but unlike the others, they were persistent and tried the friend angle in order to get to you but they didn’t sound on your boyfriend being jealous and possessive. Eventually, they walked away and Miles pulled you aside:

“Don’t fucking talk to them again, you understand ma?” Miles said

“I understand. I am so so sorry, they just came up to me and cornered me.” you explained with watery eyes

“It’s fine, ma. Don’t let it happen again, tu entiendes?” he said, grabbing your chin to look him in the eye

“Si, papi. Te amo” you said

The next few days were quiet. Miles stayed closer than usual to you, y/f/n stayed away but they stared at you constantly and smirked at you. It was one faithful Saturday that would change all of that in a flash.

Miles was away doing Prowler stuff and you were designing possible suit, mask and gauntlet combos when you heard a knock on your dorm. You opened the door and were shocked to see y/f/n:

“Hey, y/n. Can we talk?"

“Uhm I should wait for Miles. He’ll be back shortly” you lied. Prowler shit took four hours min because Miles would carry stuff out in bulk so he could spend more time with you

“We can talk without him right?” Y/f/n said, pushing into your dorm. Your dorm mate was away for the weekend, visiting her parents in nantucket.

“Oh. I guess” You said

“so what you drawing?’ they asked

“stuff” you giggled

“Fuck I love your laugh.” they smiled

“um thanks” you replied

“a pretty laugh for a pretty girl” they said, grabbing your chin and staring at your lips

“thanks. You caught me at a bad time, I’m just about to go shower” you said pushing their hand away

“Oh can I join, haha?” they joked

“hahaha.” you said, silently praying Miles was outside your window witnessing all of this and waiting to strike

“You know, I’ve had a huge crush on you since you first came here? You were genuinely sweet and kind and pretty. Miles doesn’t know how lucky he is to have someone like you” They confessed, closing the gap between y’all

“Yeah but I can tell he appreciates me. He never makes me feel uncomfortable” you said with a hint of venom

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” they asked, approaching your lips

“Yeah, very” you said trying to back away. At this point, you were praying for a miracle when all of a sudden, you hear a slashing noise and see blood on your floor

“I told you to stay away from her. I gave you a warning, this is on you homeboy”

“Who are you?” they spluttered out.

A mask opened up and suddenly he appeared

“I’m Miles Morales, but you You can call me the Prowler. Right, Amor?” Miles looked at you

“Right, baby. You said, kissing your man as the person in front of you, fades away.

#mcu fanfiction #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales headcannons #miles morales #miles x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse fanart #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman into the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderverse #earth 42 #earth42!miles #earth42!miles smut #prowler!miles #foryou

[nikkotinamide]

my observations and take on some nuances not conveyed in translation

to cope while waiting for Tuesday, I've been rewatching Ai Di scenes and noticed some things! this is my drawn out summary

*Disclaimer: I'm not critiquing existing translations, I think the translators have done a phenomenal job! Just wanted to add my 2 cents worth.

Part 2

Language Use in Kiseki

Ep 2

Here I realised, Chen Yi was the one who first said these lines to Ai Di, before Ai Di repeated them to Chen Yi in Ep 12. And the wording is exactly the same...sighs...these two

Ep 3

I died. After Chen YI delivered his line "我不找你，你就不会跟喔" - "Like as if you wouldn't have tagged along if I didn't find you", Ai Di actually mouthed "我就不会跟" - "I wouldn't have come". Given his facial expressions mocking Chen Yi's brooding face, I think he was being snarky and just parroting Chen Yi 😭

Chen Dong Yang asked them "当回总堂是回娘家" - basically asking them if they take HQ to be their maiden home. 回娘家 doesn't really have any deep meaning (except returning to your maiden home), but chinese/taiwanese dramas usually have female characters use this term when they are being bullied by their husband's family...make of it what you will...

Furthermore, before this he asked them to "叫老爸" (call me dad) when they called him 老大 (boss) and he kept making excuses for them in front of Zhou Ming Lei.

CDY really sees himself as their papa...

Ai Di calls Chen Yi "竖子". Coward fits the context but more directly, it is a derogatory way of calling someone a brat. Chen Yi gets upset because a punk younger than himself is being rude, and I think he got Ai Di's hidden barb - a reminder that Chen Yi is but a kid, especially in CDY's eyes, and how CDY will never see him as a man.

Ai Di makes a double entendre. He says "他会变老，你会长大。长大。" - "He'll grow old, you'll grow up. Grow big." 长大 in mandarin usually means growing up but can also mean /ahem/ growing big. To let Chen Yi know he's thinking dirty, Ai Di purposely looks down in the vicinity of Chen Yi's crotch and smirks.

Ai Di continues provoking Chen Yi, calling him 大哥哥 mockingly. Big bro is a correct translation but doesn't convey Ai Di's feelings. Here he's ironically calling Chen Yi the mandarin equivalent of onii-chan.

Our boy is a big ball of hurt and only knows how to express it through antagonising Chen Yi 🥲

Ep 4

Sighs. I really believe Zong Yi has a profound impact on Ai Di. Zong Yi is the one who told Ai Di that birthdays should be shared with people you like, and Ai Di took it to heart! He repeated this to Chen Yi in Ep 12.

Chen Yi I love you but I wanna smack you. Here he is speaking to CDY and in reference to their birthday, he uses "我的" (my), before adding on "还有艾迪" (and also Ai Di's), instead of using “我们的" (ours). Boy here really wants to be special in papa's eyes...

The translation is correct but the emphasis is lost. 那么 - so much. Ze Rui is asking Ai Di why he likes Chen Yi so much. Ai Di's dejection must have been so palpable Ze Rui felt he had to ask Ai Di just why Chen Yi was so good that Ai Di has to subject himself to so much pain.

Time for some Chen Yi redemption. Ai Di explains why. Again, translations are okay but nuances are lost. Chen Yi is the one who found Ai Di when he was so ill he was on the brink of death. Chen Yi is the one who cares for him the most (alt. gets in his business the most), the one who scolds him the most. And Chen Yi is also the one who looks after him the most.

替他 - substitute for him. Chen Yi really is Ai Di's everything so much so that he is willing to die on behalf of Chen Yi. There is a fine nuance between dying for (为他去死) vs dying on behalf (替他去死). I can't put it into words well but to me, I would say the former means there is an intentionality in following your fate, while the latter means there is an active choice in exchanging your fate for someone else's.

this post is getting too long, continued in Part 2

#kiseki: dear to me #chen ai #chen yi x ai di #ai di x chen yi #ai di #ramblings #they are making me feral

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt. 53)

(Sneak Peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: A snippet of the future- a flash forward- in which you and jimin reach an...agreement. 

Tags: pleasure dom Jimin, pillow princess m/c, oral (f. receiving), fingering, knotting, talks of gender and sex, Talks of killing people, talking ill of the dead, assassin! jimin, implied autistic! jimin, Flash Forwards, intentionally vague moments

W/c: 7.770

A/n: please be patient with me regarding the rut chapter ie the chapter after this one! i’m visiting my brother next week in LA so!!! things will take some time. hopefully this little jimin nugget will tide you over. although this isn’t the most unique sex chapter i do really like it. in the meantime! recommend me some stuff to do in la! i’m hoping it’s going to be a restful trip but ngl...it’s not looking great.... i don’t like planning things that other people are going to potentially not enjoy 😠 i’m meant to be a passenger princess threw and threw 

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

Chapter 53: I’d do Worse (Sneak Peak)

Jimin promptly takes one of the tubes of paint, a light blue- the same light blue that you ended up painting the upstairs bathroom, and squishes it out onto the canvas below you. Near your hand but not on it.

The breath you were holding rushes out in a single jagged laugh, “Okay, now I’m lost- I thought the whole point of the plastic and drop cloths was not to get paint on them.”

The look he shoots you asks you to suspend your disbelief. Especially once he starts doing that to all the other colors. He continues to drop careful splotches of paint around you. Enough that it would take a lot of concentration to get out of the room without tracking dark blue or pink or yellow or red halfway across the house.

You wonder what exactly Jimin plans to do to you. Paint included. He puts out a spurt of yellow paint on your side and then another. 

Surely sooner rather than later, noodle is going to wander in here in search of a pool of sunlight, track his paws or tail through the paint, and leave pawprints everywhere throughout the house. Yoongi will probably complain about them, but you might make him keep them instead of washing them away. 

When he’s finished, Jimin turns a yellow tube over in his hands. Back and forth, the cap flashing like a rising and setting small yellow sun. jimin’s voice is low when he speaks, near reverent. “You’re the first woman I was ever with- that I ever knew I was with.” 

It’s an admission and an admonishment, one that you and the rest of your pack have been tiptoeing around. Even though Tae’s a woman now- she hadn’t always been- at least not in a way the pack could compensate for. While new lines in the sand are drawn that doesn’t mean the old lines totally fade away. It will take a few more cycles of low and high tide to completely grow used to this.

Jimin fiddles with a small red tube of paint. “I’m a rigid person, I know I am. i don’t like change most of the time and I know, I know things shouldn’t be so planned, I know that’s not the way things usually go but-” You nuzzle close to Jimin, and his words extinguish into a sigh, his hands coming up to your sides, the same place he always likes to hold, between your shoulder blade and your ribcage.

“But you need them to be this way sometimes. Planned? so you can make sure everything’s done right” You press. 

He bristles, “If you’re expecting me not to say that I want everything to be perfect when I can make it that way then-”

“You’re such a control freak Minnie.” you say it with a smile, playing your fingers through some of the milky pink white, feeling the tackiness between your fingers.

“You don’t hate it?”

You shrug. “Jin’s that way too sometimes. So no, I guess I don’t hate it. Maybe it’s just because I like- really fucking hate making decisions.”

He grimaces, but Jimin’s eyes dart from your face down to your crossed legs. settling on something. “Do you care if those clothes get dirty?”

“A little- I like these shorts.”

“then you should take them off.” your heart thuds as jimin leans over you, tugging on the strap of your Tanktop with his teeth, lips pressed to the bare skin of your shoulder, dragging them down. He plays at being sexy but decides not to be, settling for leaning his cheek on your shoulder and watching you. 

“I had kind of this stupid idea, if you don’t want to do it just say so. This is every shade of pink that we ever painted the house. Tae’s favorite color is pink- and the canvas- i thought it might be nice to have like- some art in her library room- that’s what I meant about making it planned.”

“Are you saying you want to make sex art or something?” Jimin blushes yet again. You should be keeping track of how many times he has and use them for leverage. 

“You know gift giving is like, my second love language if that bullshit is to be believed and-”

“-Oh my god you actually do want to make sex art.”

Coming Saturday May 6th at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

#min yoongi fic #kim namjoon fic #kim seokjin fic #kim taehyung fic #park jimin fic #jeon jungkook fic #jjk #pjm #myg #knj #kth #ksj #jhs #jung hoseok fic #bts omegaverse au #bts a/b/o #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts gang au #bts mafia au #bts polyamory au #bts au #bts fluff #bts hurt/comfort #bts werewolf au #bts angst bts omegaverse fic #bts hybrid fic #min yoongi x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader

[natsmagi]

tbh you should just sexualize your fem Tsumugi more. I'm talking full on fetish hentai style. Put her in the open boob sweater. Have her accidentally flash while leaning fowards. Have her slip and show pantsu. Full kink with no breaks. Please shut these anons up. People trying to police your creativity like it has some sort of reflection on your morals or beliefs. I also wish you would stop answering them? or at least tagging it as anon hate because it's so sad to keep seeing people be so mean to you over and over when most of us just want to enjoy your big brain takes and drawings. Maybe I'm getting parasocial bc I get so sad seeing people hate on your Tsumugi I love her she's just like me fr!!! All that matters is that you enjoy how you draw her and I hope you don't feel pressured to change your headcanons.

HWEISUHRUHKDHG I SHOULDDDDDDDDD I SHOULD UR RIGHT ive been too prudish as of late. need to be insane again. Tbh ive made some art that was made purely bc i am a freak and insane but i feel like its never the art people would expect it to be. And thats really funny to me. like my more explicit stuff is just drawn for fun But if uve ever looked at a drawing of mine and gone "this seems kind of freakish conceptually even though the execution isnt super weird" Well thats probably bc it actually is freakish. sorry. My suggestive art is usually just for the vibes tho i DID also like. yesterday?? discover a twt acc that will sometimes post various lingerie fits SO!! MAYBE ILL DRAW SOME SOON 💪💪

AND AUGHHH I KNOWWWW in the beginning i thought itd be worth replying to people bc i was like "well this is all kind of niche. im sure they have good intentions so we might aswell talk it out" But as things progress its been made clear thats doing me or anyone else no favors. i love having discussions, so i reply to most of my asks! but i do hope that ive made myself clear enough and that we can all just continue doing our own things im sorry to hear its made you sad though!!!!! rest assured its not something that demotivates me, nor is it something that makes me feel i need to change how i draw. i do what i do because i enjoy it! and i know others enjoy it too! i will never be able to appeal to everyone, and that has never been my goal. i like having fun with others though, which is why i enjoy hearing why others might think differently than me!

but yes! i already feel ive said my piece on the whole discourse thing by now and i hate walking in circles, so even if i get negative asks about it i likely wont answer unless i feel its warranted. but! if that does happen, ill be sure to tag it! you can mute "#discourse tag" ahead of time incase i ever end up using it

#btw about the lingerie thing one thing ive thought about doing is like #lingerie designs of some of their idol outfits #just bc i think that would be SO pretty #but i havent done it yet bc.............. designing lingerie seems hard KUASHDFKAHSDKJGHJK #BUT AUGHHHHHH I SHOULDDDDDDDD that would be so fun......... #and also a challenge for me #ask

[asshlyyyy]

Besides You

This is for all my people who are having a rough day. I've had this in my drafts for quite some time and didn't know where to take it. I hope you enjoy this, and I can't wait to get more out to you guys! Hopefully I'll have some one-shots coming up while I continue work on the multi-part fics.

If anyone knows why my posts have been doing terribly also... let me know. My posts have been... not doing quite as well as they should be. I'm not complaining it is just frustrating when you look at your follower to like ratio. My posts are showing up in tags... I just don't know what's happening.

Masterlist

Pairing: Elvis (or Austin!Elvis) x gn!reader

Warnings: Slight sexual themes, swearing, spelling and grammatical errors most likely. If I missed anything please let me know.

Word Count: 1.1k

“Hey darlin’, everything all right?” You heard Elvis speak from the door frame. You hummed and looked over at him. “Ya haven’t come down yet.” You gave him a weak smile. 

“I know… just… I’m just having an off day is all.” You replied back with a simple shrug. Though it more looked like an awkward movement due to you laying down.

You felt so bad. God… you felt so so bad. It wasn’t fair to Elvis. You were extremely happy with Elvis. That wasn’t the issue at bay. Your depression just made everything worse. You had these episodes now and again. These could appear at any moment, so you could really never prepare for them, which is why it wasn’t fair for Elvis. He shouldn’t have to deal with your… illness. 

“Mind if I join ya?” He asked with a slight smile on his face. 

You smiled softly and nodded, “though I don’t want to hold you back, Elvis.” 

“You can never hold me back, darlin’. I always want to be beside you.” He said softly and laid down on the bed next to you. You let out a break and shook your head.

“I just feel like I’m constantly holding you back.” You confessed to him. It was the first time you let those words come out of your mouth. You never told him about this. You didn’t want him to worry about you any more than he did. He looked at you confused. You brought your hand up to his shirt and played with his buttons.

“What do you mean? You’re never holding me back.” Elvis shook his head. 

“Remember all those things you wanted to do? Those that you wanted me to join you with? I would say no sometimes… and then you just wouldn’t do them. I… I don't want you to not do something just because I’m not in the mood.” You explained to Elvis. He brought his hand up to your head and ran his fingers through your hair. 

“Do me a favor, sweetheart. Look at ya ring finger there. What do ya see?” You looked at him confused but brought your hand up to your face. You looked at your engagement ring and wedding band. 

“The engagement ring you gave me, and the wedding band that binds us together.” You answered him. You looked past your hand and towards his blue eyes. 

“Exactly,” he used his finger to caress your cheek. You blushed lightly and pressed your face against his chest. “I married you because I love you for who you are. Just because ya have a few flaws don’ mean I don’ love ‘em. I love every single inch of you. From the top of your head to the ends of your toes.” He poked your stomach.

You let out a small giggle and looked up at him, “you’re so silly.” 

“Only for you of course.” You rolled your eyes playfully and pulled away. You pushed yourself up into a seated position and faced him. 

“Thank you.”

“Why are ya thankin’ me for?” He rubbed your thigh gently. 

“Because you’ve done a lot for me.” You grabbed his hand and interlocked your fingers together, “From putting up with my mood swings, joining me on my off days, holding me when I’m crying and not forcing me to speak about my feelings… to not ask why I’m crying. You don’t see me as a crybaby. You see me as a person.”

“I see you as the most perfect person I’ve eva met.” Elvis rested his forehead against yours. 

“Oh stop,” you giggled lightly as you slapped his chest lightly.

“‘M being serious,” he chuckled lightly and pulled away so that he could look at you. Your e/c orbs rolled in playfulness and pulled yourself far away from him. “Without you, I don’ know where I would’ve been in ma life. As cliche as it sounds… ya shaped me into who I am today.”

“Well… you shaped me into who I am today. Without you… I could've been dead, who knows.” You shrugged and got out of bed, feeling much better than you did beforehand. 

“I have a feelin’ God made it so we found each other. I believe in every universe… or different timeline… we would have found each other. We complete one another.”

“Okay lover boy, get out of bed.” You pulled the sheets off. “I have to clean these.”

“They can survive another night.”

“Elivs… these need to be cleaned. Especially after what happened yesterday morning.” You pointed out to him as you rolled the sheet over your hands.

“I have no idea what you are talkin’ about,” he said as a smirk found its way onto his lips. You rolled your eyes and walked over to the basket. You had to use whatever energy you had currently and get these chores done.

“Why don’ I help ya?” Elvis suggested. You looked over at him confused. It wasn’t like he never offered to help before, but when it came to laundry he tended to… shy away. He didn’t want to end up fucking something up. Like… accidentally shrinking his clothes, or turning his whites to pink.

“Are you sure? You can go ahead and do other things, I don’t mind.” You answered as you continued to peel the bed sheets off. 

“‘M sure. I want to make this day easy and enjoyable for you.” You smiled at his kind words and looked over at him. God, you were so lucky to call him yours. You always viewed him as the poor boy you met. The fame and fortune… it was something you never saw. You viewed it more as… he got a raise. It was silly but…

You knew how stressful Elvis got when it came to fame and fortune. You also knew that he loved to spend his fortune. Especially when it came to you. He loved to shower you with new things, and you loved every minute of it. Yet, you made sure he knew that you didn’t need anything. You had him, and that was all that mattered. He was all you needed.

“You’re all I need Elvis,” you whispered, “being near you makes everything easy and enjoyable.” 

“Oh darlin’,” he smiled and made his way over to you. “You’re all I need also.”

Elvis pressed his lips against yours and pulled you down onto the bed with him. You let out a light squeal before you kissed back. You brought your hands up to his face and smiled. Elvis was all you needed on a bad day. 

Sorry this was so short. Sometimes, there are certain things that need to be short. Just because they are short don't mean that they don't have meaning. I know I love writing longer things, but sometimes I can't force it out of me to write longer fics.

Mutual Taglist: @babyhoneypresley, @emmymaehereeeeee, @venus-haze, @austinstyles

#asshlyyyy writes #austin butler elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis film #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfiction #austin elvis x you #austin elvis imagine #austin elvis fandom

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N One-Shot Series PRT 27

Tagging:@roryculkinluvr@thatsthewrongwallcraig@icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06@shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver@ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999 @x-prettyboy-x @rorylover71 @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

Jack goes back into treatment without fighting Dr. Carty. He suspects he'll be in for a long stay but they decide to only keep him for little under a full month. They felt like too much time in the facility could set him back in the other areas to which he's improved. Once he got back on his medications, his body physically felt different. He felt like he was getting back to a content calmness in his skin again. The stitches had healed over and every time he looked at them he felt mortified thinking about what had happened with Y/n.

Dr. Carty had made mention to him y/n agreeing to let him add her as a contact. He hadn't received any calls or visits from her but he didn't expect to.

"What are you worried about Jack?" Carty pulled him out of his head.

"I guess whether or not I can fix things with Y/n or not. I feel like she's smart enough to know that she doesn't need the additional stress in her life." Jack explained sadly.

"Well then it's best to develop a plan in advance to deal with both outcomes." He informed.

"How?" Jack asked confused.

"Well if she doesn't want to forgive you or doesn't think she can handle you, you need to accept that and find a way to move forward. You can't make people stay Jack. People will come and go but you can't let that destroy you. You have to be okay with being alone." Dr. Carty had a point, as bummed out as it made him.

"I mean I know that on some level I just don't know if I'll bounce back that fast if she writes me off. I might need to like...check back in?" Jack scrunches his face.

"If you ever feel like you can't handle things on your own, you know you can check back in. That doesn't mean this place is forever, you're learning that now." He explained. Jack looked down at his hands.

"Have you thought about what happens if she does forgive you?" Carty asked seeing Jack sit back in his chair.

"I mean...I guess shit can't like go back to normal, can it?" Jack said unsure of what he was going to do in either instance.

"No it can't. The best thing you can do is acknowledge your behavior, not make any promises that it won't happen again because you know this is for life and just try your best to communicate your struggles with her." Jack laughed darkly.

"What woman wouldn't want an absolute headcase?" Jack asked making Dr. Carty sigh.

"Jack, you can't consider yourself less than because you have mental illnesses. If you continue to do that, you will constantly live in a state of self deprecating negativity. Just be yourself. Stop letting these drugs, these diagnoses define who you are." There was a knock at the door and one of the hospital admins came in.

"Mr. Thurlow's ride is here." She said softly. Carty gave her a nod and she exited as he looked Jack over.

"Are you ready?" He asked and Jack nodded.

"I'm ready. Thank you for...everything." Jack shook Carty's hand and he nodded his head.

"Focus on the list of things you wanted to accomplish once you got back home Jack. Don't get distracted." He pressed as Jack walked out of his office. The ride back to the house felt longer than the ride to the hospital but when he enters the house, it feels different. He drops the bag by the steps and looks around, seeing the kitchen has been cleaned up and their is a note on the counter.

"I cleaned up the house so you didn't come home to a bunch of blood and shit. You also had a ton of things dropped on the porch so I moved them to the attic. I got groceries Friday when the Doctor told me you were coming home. I'm working night shift this week so please don't go to the house."

Jack pulled out his phone and sat on the couch for what seemed like two hours trying to figure out what to text her. He finally settled on

Jack: I'm home...thanks for cleaning the house and filling the fridge.

He regretted it the moment he pressed send. She was quick to respond though.

Y/n: No problem.

Her response was simple. He wished she would have given him more to work with.

Jack: Do you think maybe you'll have time to talk sometime this week?

Her response didn't come as quickly as the last. He started smoking a cigarette on the porch and started pacing.

Y/n: Look Jack, if this talk is going to be full of reminders of how fucked you are in the head and how you warned me that I deserve better or whatever self deprecating bullshit..you can save it. What I really deserve is a sincere apology and what the fuck reason you decided to come off your meds. I don't want to have a conversation without real accountability.

Jack read the response and felt like he still had a chance to salvage this. He felt like she was giving him an opportunity to really think about what he was going to say the next time they were together.

Jack: Okay.

His answer was simple and direct. He was listening to what she wanted from him and he wanted to be ready for that conversation once they had it. He owed her all of those things and he wanted to give them to her when she was ready to receive them. Until then, he grabbed something from the fridge and climbed the stairs to his bedroom where a brand new, color-coded pill case sat with a little white bow on it. He smiled to himself before taking the bow off and filling it with his meds.

#Jack Thurlow #Jack Thurlow x YN #Jack Goes Home #One Shot Series #Glass Houses #Glass Houses Series #Rory Culkin #Culkin Cult #27/38

[shukakumoodboard]

*Pulls out my massive bag of money and jewels and blow* I’m your biggest fan so I must pick your brain now that you have a tumblr ask box. your finest gaalee romance hcs my good sir. Please

help.

I’m your biggest fan

did you know im crying ab this. kissing u on the face rn

ok gaalee romance headcanons. i've been thinking about this for days. grab ur mojito mix lets frockign gaur

ill be upfront in that i have very few i'll-die-on-this-hill opinions about the boys, but here's some i'm pretty stuck to <3

sfw headcanons

1. lee's better with words, gaara's better with actions, and they're both secretly envious of the other for it: my thoughts here are that gaara spent so much of his life not understanding love that he'd still struggle to articulate it in flowery ways that i think, as a born theatre kid, lee would be good at. but gaara would absolutely be that person who shows it in subtle ways -- like taking care of someone when sick, remembering food preferences, always ensuring lee takes care of himself when lee forgets or is busy having a self-flagellation moment. not that i think lee would be incompetent, but he strikes me as more of a scatterbrain, but would always be on top of verbal reassurances and affection (which i also think is what gaara would benefit from: clear straightforward declarations of feelings and intent)

2. they're both super cuddly in private look, you put together a touch-starved former monster vessel and a social outcast who mostly knows touch from violence (until gai) and you are going to get some clinginess imo. you can't convince me they're not the kind of people who would sit side by side at the dinner table so they can eat holding hands. bro (emotional)

3. they're probably actually really shit at "conventional" dating hear me out ok. they're like initially so far away and gaara is the whole president and lee kicked a meteor in half one time you think they can just wander around and go to restaurants? it's absolutely nonsense that shinobi don't suffer village celebrity paparazzi syndrome in nart tbh. not exactly the same but i have a whole wip in the bort-verse about them sneaking around. tldr i'd bet they sometimes get casual breakfast or dinner but i think more likely takeout and quiet time together as opposed to like fancy dates

4. language learning and hobbying as a form of devotion as a purveyor of my wares u may notice i have language headcanons. it is also my gaalee romance hc that they learn each others -- i've incorporated this into in the space between and a wip called multilingual, which is all about nejiten teasing lee about his crush on gaara in front of the man. i also think that lee would lean into gaara's gardening stuff with gusto because if it's something gaara loves, lee would want to love it too.

nsfw headcanons huehuehuhe

1. they're switches and i WILL die on this hill i think this is self explanatory but listen. listen i am SIQUE of the assigned top/bottom nonsense they both deserve to rail and also be railed. i may be the resident owner of the Rock Lee Fucks tag on AO3 but i also own the Gaara Fucks tag. ill kill a man over this

2. lee is absolutely a service anything this ties into the previous one. a big component of his canonical personality is that he's a disciple of gai -- he's a follower who bases a lot of himself around those he cares for. not the kind of person who is suddenly going to crop up with an intensely specific preference, imo? i think he would base his role on whatever his partner needs the most at the time.

3. rock lee's canonically huge dick ok lol listen. listen this one's canon jokes aside i think lee is hung as detailed in We Don't Talk About Fight Club and i will continue that joke. that being said i think normal hung. not arizona tea can hung which is a hilariously illustrated discord joke

4. tbh i think they're kinda vanilla in the bedroom i say this in a positive way i think they'd be far more into like, just being able to be with each other instead of getting into wild sexual mischief all over the villages although they definitely bone in weird places secretly. they Fuck, but like i don't see them as super kinksters or anything. however, i have seen many a kinkfic that im like nodding my head this is valid cakesitting bdsm what who said that

5. gaara's vaguely nebulous oral fixation i really have no justification for this one i just think some of those animal bijuu instincts might linger and turn into what that mouth do idk i keep going to write smut and whoops my whole body slipped and gaara's licking something. happened in fight club and fight club II, happened in hole time, happened in tgod, happens in at least two wips i have cookin' in the background... what is goin on actually

dkghkdf i hope you enjoyed this episode of kel's questionable headcanons. i really enjoyed answering, thank you so much for the ask <3

#fictalk #gaalee #leegaa #gaara #rock lee #writing gronp hours #nart #lol hole time #text #not sfw

[nouies]

Annual Writing Self-Evaluation

thanks to @allwaswell16 for tagging me! i enjoyed reading your answers a lot! 1. List of works published this year:

ready for a war

Devoted

fuck around, find out

seven, seven

the embers are new

bet on it

Harmony

Cold Spring

two languages, one love

could start a cult

must be love

don’t let the fire die

2. Work you are most proud of (and why): i’m proud of all of them for different reasons, this is very hard to choose. i’m going to say Harmony bc it was the first time i made a collab with an artist.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why): not necessarily a work but i’m not proud that i couldn’t meet my writing goals set for this year (writing a fic longer than 20k words, finishing a wip i’ve had for three years).

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing: from fuck around, find out

“Everything looks lovely but please, call me Louis. What was your inspiration for the menu, Chef Styles?” Louis asks, beaming. Harry lets out a laugh, refocusing his gaze to the dining area. “I’ll call you Louis if you call me Harry, can we agree on that?” Once he gets a nod of confirmation, he continues. “When Oli mentioned you wanted to retribute to the people working for the movie, and that you wanted it to feel personal, it immediately made me think of the time I arrived in New York. I was a youngster, with no family in the city and only a promise of a job that I wasn’t sure I was talented enough to fulfill,” Harry tells, remembering the nerve-wracking feeling of accepting the sous chef position when he was so young and with not much expertise. “Uh, an old lady by the name of Vittoria welcomed me to her house. She was like a second mother to me, sharing with me not only her home but her culture as well. She came to the States with her parents when she was just a toddler but grew up surrounded by the Italian community. We used to have gatherings every weekend with all her family—and I mean all the family, children, grandchildren, neighbors…I learned a lot from her, from all of them. And I used that as an inspiration for today. You’ll see three courses of my version of some of the food I had the pleasure to share with Vittoria and her family. Just wait until you try the tiramisù…it’s to die for,” he ends with a sigh. When he looks back at Louis, he notices something on his face. Fondness, maybe?

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received: i love getting comments, and there are so many that i keep in my heart that it’s hard to choose. i love especially the ones under my rare pair fics bc it’s when ppl usually tell me that they don’t read rare pairs but they gave it a chance bc of me. it means more than words can express when someone trusts you like that.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard: when i was ill around july and i kept changing and changing my blff prompt. i was very close to drop out bc i thought i wouldn’t make it. fortunately i did and i finished my second fic on time.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: writing Pedro Pascal surprised me a lot lol like i’ve obviously read Louis/Pedro fics before but i had never entertained the idea of writing one myself and it was a nice surprise. also, writing Louis/OMC wasn’t on my plans either but i welcomed it.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year: i personally don’t see any growth.

9. How do you hope to grow next year: i just hope to finish the ideas that i have. i don’t expect for them to be masterpieces, i just need them to be finished.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): definitely my friends, the ones that read pairings or tropes they don’t like only bc it’s me writing them, the ones that hype my fics even if they don’t know if the story is good yet, the ones that offer their help and their advice to help me improve.

thank you to Anitra @allwaswell16 for being so supportive all this year, for betaing my works and offering your advice, and for encouraging me to keep going.

thank you to Emma @alltheselights who always reads my fics and leaves gorgeous comments under them, your support means a lot to me.

there’s three fics that wouldn’t exist without Mar @sunbellylou so thank you so much, my love, for being an inspiration to write the filthiest things.

thank you to Kenny @luviebaybie for being the most supportive even when life gets busier and busier. thanks for taking the time to beta for me, i appreciate it a lot!

thank you to Andy @outropeace for inspiring me to write abt Louis and the bodyguard, and for teaching me how to write a smau.

thank you to @linhuine, @smittenwithlouis, @nooradeservedbetter, @lemelous, @punkpillowprincess, @voulezloux, @disgruntledkittenface, @tokyolou, for your constant support and your friendship.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: fortunately nothing bc i write romantic stories, no sad stories 🤭

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: joining fic fests is not only an opportunity for you to shine, it’s a chance to build community so pls support works from the other authors in the fest, that’s what a fest is about.

also, hide your stats from ao3. there’s a lot of freedom in not knowing if your fic has hits and kudos or if it doesn’t.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: YES! i’m only working on two projects and i’m so excited abt them. the first one it’s a collab between me and @lemelous so expect a lot of gorgeous art, and the second one is a Louis/SebStan wip i couldn’t finish this year.

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)@voulezloux, @nooradeservedbetter, @disgruntledkittenface if you haven’t done this already.

*All answers should be about works published in 2023

#my writing #fic talk

[mioyeo]

SAY GOODBYE: chapter 2

Cause I really don’t feel the way I once felt about you Girl it’s not, you , it’s me

Synopsis: In which Wooyoung finds himself loving someone else other than his girlfriend

Pairing : Balletdancer! reader x dancer!Wooyoung

Warnings: this chapter includes mentions of , illnesses, death , Wooyoung being in love , gifts, San and Mingi being goofy , kissing, infidelity, cheating ? , ballet , teasing

Word count : 2,5k

" Wooyoung why are we here again "

Seonghwa sighed as he watched the younger examine the different types of flowers

" What do you think about roses ? "

He smiled as he smelled on the white ones that smelled like a bit of vanilla

" I mean yeah they are  romantic and beautiful but it still doesn't answer my question "

" Just help me pick some flowers and stop complaining will you ? "

He chuckled and continued looking around

" Well just mix the pink roses with the white ones or whatever "

" You think that's a good idea ? "

" They do look good together maybe with a cute white ribbon wrapped around it "

The younger smiled and called the employee to help him put together everything Seonghwa suggested

" That will be 11$ if we wrap it up "

Seonghwa waited for his friend to pay so they could leave

" This is the first time I see you buying flowers and actually be happy about it "

" Can't a guy buy flowers now "

"Of course you can but what's the ocasion today for what I had to give up my own plans"

" There's a performance at school and I wanted you to tag along since you are a ballet student "

Seonghwa furrowed his brows

" There's a performance and how come I didn't know about this so called performance? "

" It's because they decided it on the last minute and not so many people signed up to watch "

Wooyoung walked down the street with his friend that grimaced confused

" They usually don't do that "

" That's why I said it was on last minute "

As they turned around the corner they saw their other friends San and Mingi waiting for them also dressed up casually unlike Wooyoung who dressed himself as if he was going on a date or something

" Wow never thought I'd see the Jung Wooyoung with blond black hair styled elegantly let alone in a leather jacket "

Mingi laughed punching his friend playfully

" Yeah but I mean it's like he's a bad boy or something , and why do you have flowers? "

Wooyoung shrugged as they continued walking

" Do I need to have a reason to buy flowers now or something ? What is wrong with y'all  "

" Chill out dude , it was just a question "

San lifted his hands in surrender

" Where is Yeosang? "

" He said he's waiting at the schools entrance "

Seonghwa replied checking his phone

" What are we going to watch anyways ? "

"Wooyoung's friend has a solo performance today and we are going for support since not so many people are coming to watch "

" That's actually sad , I'm glad I'm coming Ive always wanted to see a solo performance "

San smiled as he walked happily down the street

The boys kept talking about unnecessary things as Seonghwa had plugged in his earbuds to not get annoyed and be moody during the performance

As they slowly approached the school they saw Yeosang sitting at a bench quietly bouncing his feet as he waited patiently

" Took you guys long enough "

He scoffed and stood up as they approached him so they could in

"Wooyoung bought some flowers on the way "

" And don't ask him unless you want him to blow up on you speaking from experience "

San said as Wooyoung chuckled and apologised

" There's barely anyone here "

They went towards the big theatre and looked inside seeing five people at least sitting there patiently waiting for it to start

" Welcome , thank you so much for coming "

An old lady that seemed like the one who organised the event greeted them with a soft smile and smiled bigger after recognising Seonghwa who kept looking inside

" If this isn't my favourite student Park "

She grabbed his cheeks and patted them

" I'm glad you came , I really wanted you to watch this since it's based on what you did last year for the opening ceremony "

" Really ? Who's doing it ? "

" She's new so you probably don't know her , but her name is Y/n she transferred a month ago after our school gave her a scholarship "

Wooyoung who couldn't bare to listen anymore wandered back stage to search for her as he held the flowers nervously but gently so that he wouldn't end up crushing them

As he walked behind some curtains he saw her putting on her shoes and wrapping it around her feet

" Am I interrupting? "

She looked up startled as the sudden voice spoke in the once quiet room

" Wooyoung you came "

He smiled and approached her

" How could I miss this once in a lifetime opportunity to see you dance "

Wooyoung handed her the flowers making her gasp

" Are these for me ? You didn't have to just coming was enough for me "

Y/n took the flowers blushing as she smelled the vanilla scent radiating from the bouquet

They stood there without saying anything until Y/n chuckled and kissed his cheek

" Thank you Wooyoung you're so sweet "

The boy heated up after feeling her soft plump lips on his right cheek

" I'm looking forward to you liking the performance and even if you don't I'm still thankful for you taking your time to be here "

" Ay I'm sure me and my friends will like this , especially Seonghwa who's last year performance you’re actually covering "

" Really?! , I hope I don't embarrass myself in front of you guys "

Both chuckled before Wooyoung approached her and tucked a loose hair back up into her sleek bun

" Y/n are you ready?! "

One of the stage monitors whisper shouted

" This is my queue to leave , thank you so much again for coming "

The girl smiled and hurried towards her position while Wooyoung hurried to sit down besides friends

" where have you been ? "

San whispered as he looked at Wooyoung's smiling state

" Somewhere now be quiet it's about to start "

Just as he shushed San the red curtains have been lifted revealing Y/n curled into a ball in her beautiful baby blue tutu slowly rising as the music started to play

" She's so beautiful "

Mingi and San gawked as they watched the girl on stage dance on her toes while while twirling

" Wooyoung has taste in beautiful girls "

Mingi giggled before earning a hard pinching on his side by Seonghwa who glared at him

" Be quiet I'm trying to watch her dance "

The amount of emotions pilling out of her whenever she did specific moves that even had Seonghwa's mouth hang open

" That right there is called a perfect Grand Jete , im pretty amazed that she can even do that it's a pretty difficult move "

Seonghwa smiled and nodded approvingly

" What the heck is a Grand Jete ?"

" A Grand Jete is a jump in which a dancer springs from one foot to land on the other with one leg forward of their body and the other stretched backwards while in the air "

Yeosang explained as he kept watching quietly

Wooyoung was the only one that didn't say anything since he was mesmerised by the way her body moved so effortlessly

From every twirl to pirouettes his heart skipped a beat making him feel sick to his stomach but in a good way

His phone suddenly started vibrating with messages from girlfriend making him sigh and turn off the notifications

As the music slowed Y/n slowly twirled two times ending it with a Arabesque making everyone clap as tbd curtains closed

" That was so cool , how did she just stand on one feet while supporting her whole body with only her toes ?! ”

Mingi’s eyes widened from shook as he pictured himself trying and failing miserably to copy the move Y/n just did

“ I think this was the best solo I’ve ever seen ”

“ Me too but it seems like Wooyoung enjoyed it more than we all did ”

Yeosang teased his friend who’s mouth hung open as he continued to clap

“ Thank you so much for coming to watch our new team member do her amazing solo ”

The old lady bowed and thanked everyone before leaving

“ Guys you can leave without me ”

“ Are you staying with your friend ? ”

The boy nodded as he stared at someone that poked their head from behind the curtains

“ I’ll see you guys on Monday bye ! ”

He smiled patting everyone’s chest before running off to meet Y/n

“ Gosh what a friend he is ”

“ Wait doesn’t he have a girlfriend ? ”

“ He does and it looks like this is about to change really soon ”

Everyone looked at Yeosang who had a emotionless expression on as he walked out

“ What does he mean by that ”

“ Yeosang basically said that Wooyoung is falling for someone he just met ”

Seonghwa chuckled amused as they went out to

“ Does this mean we are witnessing a hot mess of a love triangle ? ”

San and Mingi giggled to themselves making Seonghwa sigh in exhaustion

“ You guys are so like these dumb and dumber duos and I’m tired of your baby like minds ”

He walked off leaving both boys giggling to themselves

“ You where amazing today ”

Wooyoung smiled as he waited for Y/n to finish putting on her sneaker’s

“ I saw when you clapped as everyone had already stop it was so funny ”

She giggled grabbing her backpack

“ Well it was just beautiful especially the ending pose even my friends were amazed”

He smiled looking down

“ Where are your friends? did they already leave? I wanted to thank them ”

She looked around but her and Wooyoung where literally the only ones left

“ I told them they could go since I wanted to stay and congratulate you again ”

“ Oh ok , well what should we do now ? ”

“ We could grab something to eat but I don’t really think you’d be hungry ”

“ You don’t know how hungry I am I haven’t ate anything the whole day only a small snack to boost the energy before performing ”

“ Than how about we grab something down town or we could go to the beach where they sell amazing street food "

She nodded as they walked out off school

“ You look so good with that hairstyle ”

He smiled flicking his hair back

“ I’ve always wanted to tried two different colours at once and I’m glad people like it ”

“ You kinda look a bad guy who’s in a biker gang the way you’re styled today ”

Y/n smiled covering her mouth to prevent her from laughing

“ A bad boy , gosh why does everyone say that ”

He bursted out laughing as he spot the beach just some miles away

“ But a good looking bad boy ”

“ You also looked beautiful today your costume was very beautiful ”

She smiled and looked down

“ My Grandma made it for me before I moved here from the country side , I wouldn’t be here if she didn’t pass away some months ago ”

Wooyoung frowned as he stopped on his tracks

“ I’m so sorry to have brought such a sensitive topic up I didn’t mean to ”

“ It’s ok it’s not like you knew about it ”

The girl smiled and took of her shoes letting her feet sink into the warm sand

“ I hope you’re not feeling sad now ”

He also removed his shoes before following her as they took a walk along the beach watching as the sunset slowly

“ I feel better now that I’m seeing the sunset leaving us in this darkness full of stars and the beautiful moon as replacement ”

She sat down and looked to the sky

“ Yeah it’s really beautiful especially the way the different orange tones are turning into a beautiful dark blue one "

Wooyoung took a picture before posting it on his private story

“ How come you decided to be a dancer ? ”

Y/n looked at him surprised by the sudden question but smiled

“ Well I’ve always loved seeing people dance , and my dad used to be a dancer too but had to stop when he got lung cancer "

“ I’m sorry to hear that ”

“ It’s ok , I just enjoyed seeing him dance so I also practiced Hip hop for a couple years until I discovered my passion for ballet ”

“ Wait you also practiced Hip hop ? ”

“ Yeah it was so fun but I thought ballet suited me the most out off everything ”

Y/n looked at Wooyoung who was already looking at her

“ I also think it suits you well ”

He smiled and leaned closer to her , he himself didn’t know where that boldness was coming from  but one thing he knew was needed to control was what he was about to do

“ Wooyoung are you ? ”

Y/n stood still as she felt him get closer to her

“ Can I ? Can I please kiss you ? ”

His voice sounded so desperate that even he himself didn’t believe he just did that

“ You can only if I can as well ”

She leaned in closing her eyes as she felt his breath closer to her lips

He slowly moves in closer, closing his eyes, his lips slightly parted in anticipation when his lips met hers

Wooyoung let out a soft sigh, his body relaxing against Y/n’s as the kiss got tender and gentle, full of emotion but also confusion

He wanted to be selfish and enjoy this moment but no matter how much he pulled her body closer to him his guilt wouldn’t die down

“ I-Im so sorry but I need to leave ”

“ Wait Wooyoung- ”

He stood up in a hurry leaving the confused girl behind sitting on the sand

He tried forgetting what he just did but it was deeply engraved in his mind already

Even after he came home to his girlfriend waiting for him so they could go to sleep together

He kept thinking about Y/n , someone he barely knew only for some days

Already having his heart skip beats or making him buy flowers something he never did unless it was for his mom on Mother’s Day

“ Wooyoung why are you still awake? "

He looked beside him and sighed

“ It’s nothing I’ve been just thinking ”

The boy turned around facing the wall

“ We can talk if something is bothering you ”

She snuggled herself closer to him but got pushed back slowly

“ Im fine just go back to sleep ”

The girl shrugged and turned around letting Wooyoung think to himself

He didn’t know how he was going to face Y/n now the next time they see each other, what if he ended up ignoring her or hurt her even more than he already did today by leading her on

All these thoughts kept running until he fell asleep from exhaustion when he left his bedroom to sleep on the couch

Maybe he couldn’t sleep because it wasn’t Y/n dancing around his mind but the fact that he behaved so normal beside someone he just betrayed deeply by kissing someone else

#ateez #ateez angst #ateez atiny #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong #ateez imagines #ateez jongho #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez wooyoung #ateez yeosang #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung #ateez x reader

[partyanimal167]

Nice Rides- Kidd x F!Reader

And we're back! My bike is giving me shit right now which reminded me of this little fic that I haven't continued yet. I'll take Pearl (my bike) to shop later this week, so for now, we're going to pretend everything is perfect lol.

I need to write more Kid. He's so fun and spicy.

CW: black fem reader in mind, modern au, fluff, bubbly reader, light instances of misogyny, motorcycle stuff

Kid stood still with arms crossed and a deep scowl planted on his face. He wasn't sure what his role was in all of this, but he was fine with watching from a distance as people approached you and chatted away.

You cleaned up your bike for the show. It was glossy white with purple lights accenting the body. Your cat helmet chilled on the seat, and you talked eagerly with your hands--heart cutouts on your riding gloves visibe and the reason for your odd tan lines.

Kid didn't bother bringing in his old chopper for the event. He had a decent enough car parked elsewhere; he just tagged along quietly. Kid grumbled to himself mostly as old men pointed from far seeming to crack jokes and not take you seriously.

It pissed him off.

"Oh, there's a vendor I wanna go peek at real quick. I'll be back Kid!" you waved off before going to the tent area.

Kid grunted in response and looked around the grassy field--unsure of what to do with himself. He was surprised that you actually hit him up about the show. When he arrived, you just finished polishing off your ride and beamed at the mechanic before giving him a big hug.

Kid appeared calm as you rambled on about different Japanese models that you only saw in magazines before and how you wanted to find some accessories for your lanyard. However, Kid's mental gears were rolling. He had to remember that you were new to the area, so it was probably some form of comfort seeing him even though Kid wouldn't consider himself good company.

He only spoke to you a little, and the people he did know were interested in meeting you and how long you had been riding. Thankfully, not so many people were arrogant to think that you didn't know your stuff; enthusiasts go to these types of events. But that didn't mean there wasn't trouble.

Kid glared around as he popped his gum and honed in on you slowly making your way back with a little gift bag in hand. Two old geezers had stopped you, and you looked just as bright and sweet talking to them.

"That's a cute little moped you got there, sweetie. Did your daddy get it all fixed up like that? Make it a pretend bike?" one of the men jeered. You stiffened at the comment and decided to turn and walk away.

But an arm reached out with ill-intentions.

"Hey! I-,"

"I suggest you old farts fuck off and leave the girl alone. You can't even imagine handling a ride like hers." Kid barked out--easily getting in between the men and yourself.

The two spit on the ground and flipped off the man. "Whatever punk. You probably like riding your girlfriend's sissy ride. Do you have to ask for permission to touch it?" they laughed.

Kid started fuming. "I'll fucking-," he paused after feeling your hand on his arms. You gave him a gentle look--seeming to say how it wasn't worth it. Kid slouched his arms and let out a breath. "Fuck away from us your bastards."

You walked back to your ride with Kid stomping behind you.

"You're too nice. I don't know why people can't just be normal about you having a motorcycle." Kid grumbled as he plopped in an outdoor chair. You leaned onto your ride and just gave him a smile. (Ba-dump) Kid paused before turning his face away from you. "Anyway, go run around and see what's here. I'll watch your beaut."

You pouted and huffed. "But Kid, I want us to walk around together."

A blush started to creep. "But what- what if some punk touches your bike? Or those bastards fuck with it?"

You giggled and tried pulling Kid up from his seat. "If someone messes with her, then I give you one-hundred percent permission to beat them up. Plus, we'll take her to your shop so you can charge them crazy too. 'Kay?"

"Fine." Kid kissed his teeth as he stood, but you just wrapped your arm around his. You were all bright colors and smiles to his garage gloom and glares.

"Yay! So our date continues!" you cheered before beginning to head off.

Kid's feet followed, but his mind was elsewhere again. So it is a date.

~~~

Maybe I am gonna buy another motorcycle...

#one piece #one piece x reader #eustass kid #eustass captain kidd #black fem reader #fem reader\ #motorcycle au #moder au #motorcycle show #mine #kid x reader #partyanimal167

[ancientevangelions]

Hello! I'm new here! Just the other day I was going through the AsuShin tag, found your fics, and loved them! I also spent some time reading your thoughts and theories. Which brings me to ask, how do you perceive the changes and (lack of) relationship between Asuka and Shinji from Evangelion, EoE and Rebuild?

Specifically regarding Rebuild, I found it disheartening how they set Shinji and Asuka aside so easily. I'm not talking strictly nor only about shipping. I grew up watching the 90s Evangelion. And a big part of the story and its exploration of psychological themes and characters's psychology and motivation was Shinji's relationship with Asuka. Most of all in EoE, which, to me, is the ending I find most fitting.

It was dreadful to watch the redone beach sequence where Shinji thanks Asuka for admitting she used to like him, then him saying he used to like her back. Only for them to have that "everything is suddenly happy now" ending. This sequence seems to discredit most of the themes and sacrifices made in the original story, and does not satisfactorily brings their story to a close, but instead seem to try to brush it aside or bypass it somehow. Again, I do ship AsuShin but my grievance has much more to do with the way Rebuild handled them, I don't think in a story like Evangelion we could ever have had hopes of them living happily ever after or even be together necessarily

Hello!

Thanks for being here. I wanted to answer this as thoughtfully as I could! Asuka and Shinji are definitely a complicated pair. Regardless of shipping, they require care and attention to understand.

In NGE/EoE, the focus of the series is on their interactions, especially with the End of Evangelion. Episode 9 onward is focused primarily on the interactions between Asuka and Shinji, their highs and lows, the back and forth and their eventual downfalls. I always find it funny how people are highly critical of the interactions between the kids. From my memory of high school/being a teen (2004 to 2009 mostly), it was very much like this. A lot of back-and-forth denial of feelings and messiness trying to avoid pain, not wanting to speak your feelings due to embarrassment, and a lack of knowledge on consent or anything romantic or sexual. It all was a very realistic portrayal of my teen years, primarily because of the depression and mental illness (spoken as an undiagnosed mentally ill teen).

The realism with Asuka and Shinji and the non-linear progression/recovery felt extremely important to me. It was evident that they had a massive attraction to one another. Still, they fell into the trap I had in my youth of being unsure how to communicate my feelings without being rejected or experiencing pain. Even without romantic or sexual feelings, Shinji and Asuka live together, attend school, and work together. They are often abandoned by Misato at home alone, left to their own devices. They are two kids competing to see who can grow up faster. They have a compelling dynamic because they are so messy! In NGE, we see their ups and downs, learning about each other, fighting together and building trust, kindness, rude words, misunderstanding, poor communication, etc.

I love End of Evangelion. I don't need to see what happens after Asuka returns; I know now Yui was telling the truth that anyone can return when they are ready. Of course, it would be Asuka next after Shinji; their destinies are intertwined. She has every right to show him compassion AND to still be angry after all he did to her. The point of the ending scene is that there is love and affection in the world, but it's not forced; it's not a given; it's realistic. No one owes you anything, not love, not compassion, but when we choose to be kind, how amazing is that? Asuka and Shinji can continue to learn, grow and survive together. There is hope; they can be happy, but they must rebuild, work together, and try to find that happiness. 

Rebuild of Evangelion is so Shinji-centric at times it feels like it doesn't care about anyone else's motivations or backstory. Rebuild disappointed me so much with its focus on cinematic fights over substance. Rebuild also falls into the trap of forcing a perfect happy ending, which is unrealistic and annoying. Real change is messy and takes effort, years and years of action, and instead, we find perfection in imperfection. It's okay and expected if everything doesn't go exactly as planned. Rebuild needs more focus. It's evident that there was no overarching plan for the 4 films and that they underwent rewrites and delays for years. Of course, ideas would change. It took years to finish the series. It went from "Evangelion for new fans, a retelling that doesn't require you to watch NGE" to "The action sequences are good; let's make money off of sexualized children."

A lot of the AsuShin content is added on later in canon bonus material later added to 3.0 + 1.0 to clear up misconceptions about the relationships. It's subtle, and it feels tacked on. Shinji spends so little on-screen time with any of the characters that we don't get the same interactions, world-building, or character development and the flatness of the characters bothers me so much. What are their motivations? "Well, he cooked for her, so she likes him." Okay… that seems flimsy since she spends all her time alone, and he spends all his time alone… 

Shikinami might as well be 14, screaming that she is an adult now. For all the ways she has changed between 2.0 and 3.0, stewing in her anger doesn't seem very adult. The children telling us they are adults really doesn't convince me. The time skip accomplished nothing as no one reflected on 14 years passing in a realistic way. Shinji didn't grieve lost time or grapple with being an adult in a child's body. The deus ex machina at the end might have been "And then Shinji woke up, and Wonderland was gone" or "Asuka clicked her red heels and said there's no place like home."

Pixar films are popular because "Life doesn't always go according to plan, but you can still find happiness in the mess of life." The idea is that things are imperfect, and we make the most of what we have. Sometimes, what we want is different from what we need. Rebuild fails to capture this and instead falls into a trap I see in YA novels where the epilogue is much too neat. We see ourselves in the characters, and we identify with the struggle, but then the ending is too tidy. The protagonist gets a hetero-normative end with children and a picket fence and marries one of the love interests introduced early on. The protagonist becomes unrelatable to us because they fall into complacency where they have a 9 to 5 job and do nothing to better anything after the "fall of the tyrant." To quote The Who with their song Won't Get Fooled Again: "Here comes the new boss, same as the old boss." How can we, who are struggling daily for our survival and happiness, find the changing of one problem to be satisfactory in solving all issues? No more Evas, cool, but now he is under capitalism which we all know SUCKS. Sounds perfect, Shinji. Thanks for making your lives miserable in a new way. Trapped in wage labour sounds excellent. 

That's why I'm not a fan of "happy" endings. I only need some of the problems solved. I want to see work to build a new world. In the Rebuild ending, I dream of Asuka and Shinji working side by side to rebuild cities, prevent new child soldiers and be active in a community that fears them. We don't need a dream of paradise. We need hope that WE can make a difference, too. 

#shinji ikari #neon genesis evangelion #rebuild of evangelion #evangelion #asuka langley shikinami #asuka langley #asuka langley soryu #theory and analysis #short essay #anon ask

[meatriarch]

overview cont. i guess lmao. no one asked but its been something in the back of my mind for a while now & i got an anon tonight telling me i come off intimidating and i feel the need to just. make note of some things so that hopefully if anyone feels a certain way with how i run this blog then like. know and understand both my side as well as that my dms / disc is open for anyone to pop into -- just obv depends on the headspace at the time.

i know this is long & am sorry if it doesnt make sense but. just setting it gently out there.

but, again, my disc ( same as my url ) is open for any mutual. its open to shoot the shit. open for plotting. open for memes. what have you. i may not always get to every message. i may not be in the headspace for certain things or certain energies. but its open for anyone as long as we are mutuals & if handles are different between here & disc then i just get a heads-up abt who you are so i know lmao

likewise, i am fairly fucking slow writing-wise and alot of that is because of offsite issues chipping into me but also because most, if not all, of the things i DO have in the inbox or drafts are from my affiliates at this time ( tho i do have some more from the archive i need to move over from a couple people ). alot of my spoons and drive to write and post is because of the dynamics and plotting built between our muses. im not a blog centered on plotting but, it does help to have a better idea on how to navigate between muses c: esp for those technically outside of my kiddos' texas canon obviously. that being said, anyone is welcome to like any inbox calls i put out there. and my inbox is always open and accepting, even if i havent reblogged prompts in a while -- i have my tag linked on my pinned and its available always & for whomever. it just comes with the understanding that i may take a while to respond to them & they may not get as expansive as some of my posts can get with my affiliates; which again, is just simply from how much we've been building together that helps with that!

on that note. my connections with my texas pals are very dear to me. both ic & ooc. as i noted in my overview post, i talk about the dynamics we've built openly and freely here because theyre so integral to my portrayals. they & their kiddos have my entire heart and i unapologetically love having fun with them and going on tangents with them and bouncing thoughts off of each others posts on the dash.

my experiences in other corners of tumby rp have not been particularly kind. and its been a long time since ive felt comfortable especially ooc with writing partners. and i understand if i may come across closed off or intimidating or unapproachable. i understand if i also come across partial to them / play favorites because frankly... i am. i do. thats because they've built bonds not just between characters but also with me. ill be very transparent and say that i am very particular in who i get close with and that translates into here too. but thats also just something that easily can also happen with literally anyone. again i do understand if i come across closed off in any sense but genuinely? im not scary and i have options open for continuing to grow more connections with people c: theyre open always. what im not going to do, however, purely out of personal experience is chase after interactions. the last fandoms i wrote in i did so and it wore me down into my last hiatus. i will show equal enthusiasm to whats given. but i wont fish for it, either. its just not my cup of tea.

i like to think im fairly patient and understanding in a lot, probably moreso than i should in some cases -- sincerely though if theres issues know that im fine with it being brought up. but im also not going to be welcoming nor tolerate my boundaries being disregarded or disrespected, im already dealing with that with an offsite friend. not dealing with it here. i do not like feeling so uncomfortable existing on my own blog or in my own disc. and i get that already with my personal disc & this offsite friend in particular. im not dealing with it here too.

which on that note, i also wont be receptive with issues regarding what i post, what i talk about, who i write with, who i choose as affiliates or mains or w/e. my blog & my dash are my safe & comfort zones and these muses often help me alot with navigating when my headspace is at a fucked up level. if any of that is a concern yes youre welcome to come to me and talk it over but end of the day? my comfort & mental state is a priority to me. if thats ever an issue i truly would just recommend you do what you feel is best for you. everyone existing on this hell-plane are entitled on curating their space in whatever manner they see fit.

again. i promise im not scary. im not an ass. but i do curate my space to be in my best interest and at my age & experience across the 10+ yrs ive been rping on and off here, ive seen alot, heard alot, experienced alot. i do apologize however if i do come across unapproachable or intimidating. i do apologize if i seem closed off to only a select few. i dont mind if you follow / we're mutuals solely just to keep up with what i write! thats completely okay too and i thank those who are <3 but if i seem unapproachable i literally just gently gesture again to my disc or prompts tag etc! i welcome any to get to know myself or my muses. regardless of how much time has passed since following one another. just again, comes with the understanding that my social battery & headspace often does work against me. and thats not personal against anyone, ever.

#[ 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦. ] ── * psa. #im hoping this all reads fine and w/e cause im fist-fighting with a headache rn but. #just to hopefully idk. make a few things known? i guess? transparency a bit? again i promise im not a scary person lol but i am just. #careful with alot of avenues. and i get this post is also fairly rigid in tone most of the way but im. pretty tuckered out by alot #and being known as like... intimidating is something i have personal issues with re: old friends offsite. so. trying to state what i mean #as direct hopefully as possible.

[nochukoo97]

Strawberries and Cigarettes

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Warnings: mentions of violence, smoking, and alcohol consumption. Jk rides a Harley Davidson 😉 and is soft for oc ☺️☺️ oc loves strawberry flavoured things especially ice cream 🍦

Word count: 1.2k+

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Chapter 1

It’s a friday night and Sohee, your best friend ever since elementary school, is asking you to follow her to meet her friends at a bar, or maybe more of forcing you… “Come on! It’ll be fun I promise! They are all superrr chill and plus, you definitely need to get the experience of going to a bar! Pleaseeeeee” This was the fifth time today Sohee had tried to convince you to follow her. “Sohee, I don’t even know who your friends are, and I don’t like to go to bars” you sighed again, but with the look your best friend is giving you right now and the determination in her voice, you decided that there was no point arguing further, finally agreeing with an “Okay, fine! Just this once okay?”

Upon hearing your agreement, Sohee jumps up and screams, making you wince and cover your ears in pain from her high pitched cry. She begins to pull you into her bathroom and take out all the cosmetic supplies you can think of and starts putting on her make up. It takes an hour for both of you to get ready before she brings you to take a cab to the bar.

Reaching the bar, Sohee grasps onto your arm as she swerves you both amongst the crowd in the bar. Soon you both reach a table occupying about five other people, who you assumed were her friends. “ yn, these are my friends, jennie, jimin, taehyung, hoseok, namjoon and jungkook!” she points to each one of them as she mentions their names. You two sit down and you end up sitting opposite “Jungkook” who intimidates you slightly with his full sleeve tattoo and eyebrow and lip piercing.

A few hours and many bottles of soju and beer later, Sohee and Jennie were dancing on the tables, and Jimin, Tae, Hoseok and Namjoon were laughing around. Jungkook was the only one who seemed to be still sober, along with you. “Hey, I’m going out for a smoke, wanna join?” Jungkook whispers into your ear against the loud music blasting in the bar. “I don’t smoke though…” you whispered back. “It’s fine, you can just tag along if you want,” Jungkook chuckles and grabs his belongings, walking outside. He doesn’t seem as intimidating despite his appearance as you had thought.

“Sohee! Ill be heading out okay? Don’t do anything dangerous okay?” You shouted to her across the blaring music. She gives you a half assed nod, probably because she was so intoxicated, and continues dancing on the tables with Jennie. Shaking your head in embarassment, you head outside the bar, in search for the tattooed man whom you had just met a few hours ago.

“Wow, didn’t think you would actually come, you kinda looked frightened of me at the start” Jungkook chuckled as he blew out a puff of smoke. You smiled at his response, “I just couldn’t take how noisy and chaotic the bar was, and you seem not too bad, you’re more relaxed than the rest” you replied laughing. You both stand in silence for awhile as Jungkook continues to take puffs from his cigarette, before stomping on it using his black combat boots on the ground.

“Are you going back in already?” You question him. “Well, not that I want to, but if you want, we could go and get some ice cream? I know a convenience store nearby?” He suggests. Without doubt, you nod your head and follow his lead out of the alleyway next to the bar. As you guys are walking, you begin to stare and observe the many tattoos decorating his sleeve, seeing the intricate details of the drawings on his arm. Jungkook feels your gaze from behind and turns around, and explains, “I work at a tattoo parlor, so its easy for me to get all these tattoos done! I also do piercings so I pierced these myself,” he says as he gestures towards the eyebrow and lip piercing on his face. Your mouth gaped in wonder as you stared at the round ball on his eyebrows. You two then continue walking towards the convenience store.

Walking in the store, you gasped as you see the new strawberry ice cream in the freezer compartment that you had been looking for the past three weeks. You hurriedly open the drawer and grab the pink plastic wrapped around the long lost strawberry ice cream and excitedly showed it to Jungkook. “Oh. My. Gosh! You don’t know how long I have been looking for this! It’s finally here!!!” You exclaim as Jungkook cocks his eyebrow in amusement. He laughs to himself when you squeal to yourself and whispers a “cute” under his breath, but you don’t need to hear it. ��

Jungkook picks out a mint choco ice cream to which you scrunch your nose in disgust of his choice (i actually love mint choco pls dont attack me HAHHAHA) and proceeds to go to the counter with you trailing behind him. “That would be $4.50 please” the cashier says. Before you can whip out cash from your wallet, Jungkook swipes his black credit card across the reader. “Hey! I can pay for my ice cream! Take my cash please” you say as you try to shove the $2 note into his hands. “Nono, keep it please” he argues back “No I can’t!” you continue to exclaim as he carries the plastic bag of your ice creams out the store. “Then you can pay me back another time if you really want” Jungkook smiles at you as he says “Now, just enjoy your ice cream,” He says and passes your strawberry ice cream, helping you rip open the pink packaging.

“Mint choco sucks, why would you choose it?” You eye his ice cream in disgust. “What?! Mint choco is the best!” Jungkooks eyes widen in offence as he exclaims at your statement. “Eww, you’re basically eating toothpaste at this point!” You laugh as he pouts slightly at your statement. “At least try a bite! Trust me it isn’t as bad as you say,” Jungkook reasons, offering his half bitten ice cream to you. You bite off a small bit of the ice cream, and fake gag to show Jungkook just how disgusting the flavour was. He laughs at your act and continues to walk towards the bar as you follow him.

You both begin to eat your ice cream in silence as you walk back towards the bar. Finishing your ice creams in time, you enter back and sit next to Sohee who was back in her seat at the table. “Where were the two of you? I kept walking around to find you yn!” Sohee says, now seemingly less drunk than before. “Oh I just went for a walk to get some fresh air” you replied. Sohee eyes Jungkook next, who responds, “I went for a smoke! I declared it just now but obviously you guys were too busy dancing on the table to hear me” he chuckles.

“Let’s keep this a secret” you see Jungkook mouth at you after awhile, and you nod back. You secretly hoped to yourself that you would see Jungkook again soon, as you had began to take a liking for him.

note: hello! this is the first chapter of the new series, i think the first chapter is a little boring because its just the introduction but i promise there will be more interesting and juicy things that happen in the later chapters LOL i actually had another acc that i wrote some fics but i got logged out and forgot my password LMAO so i just created a new one 😁😁

#jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook ff #jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts #bts ff