#then he got out the pink foil :o

[emphistic]

Doctor's Orders

Synopsis: Sukuna catches a cold, and isn't able to make it to your guys' planned lunch. Luckily for him, though, you still take the food — as to-go.

A/N: i have a lot of works planned, but im kinda slow, thankfully i have a lot of free time now so i'll try to pump out as much sukuna content as i can

PS: i got sick the second day of writing this, why world? whyyyyy? also, i hated writing this. i am not proud of this whatsoever

Taglist: @starlets-things

You

Hey

R u dead or smth??

You're late

Delivered 25m ago

Those were the last text messages you sent Sukuna, before picking up two hummus wraps and drinks from Sunny's Diner. The two of you were originally supposed to meet up there and have lunch together, but the pink-haired teen wasn't answering his phone, at all.

Now, you stand before his front door. A to-go bag tucked under your arm, and another hand rapidly knocking on the door.

Mr. Itadori — Sukuna's grandpa — wasn't home, you assumed, so you were alone in this.

Sighing, you decided to do this the old fashioned way.

It took you less than five minutes to climb the tree outside of Sukuna's bedroom, and five seconds to crawl on a branch to his window.

Finally, you pressed your face up against his window, and saw Sukuna — still in bed — with the blankets covering all of his body.

You aggressively knocked on his window, and saw him moving under the blankets before sticking a head out. He immediately fell back onto his bed at the sight of you.

He looked awful; there were bags under his eyes; his hair looked like a bird's nest, not to mention, he was sweating all over.

"Open the window!" You shouted, loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough to not disturb the peace in the neighborhood.

Despite being outside, you could practically imagine his groan at the sound of your voice.

Sukuna knew he had no choice, though, so he begrudgingly got out of bed, and walked — no, wobbled — over to his window. His arms felt like Jell-O as he opened his window, and you crawled into his bedroom.

As soon as your feet touched the floor, you felt a familiar weight fall upon you, before you crashed into the wall and onto the floor. You were in a pile of tangled limbs.

"Sukunaaaaa, oww!" You rubbed your forehead.

You tried to stand back up, but the boy's body would not give you the chance to.

"Get off of me, you slug."

"I'm good." He mumbled into your neck.

"You're too heavy," you pushed at the older's shoulders until he finally rolled off of you.

You sighed in relief. "Thank God."

You stood up, pulling Sukuna with you. Despite his size, you had to practically hold him, and yourself, up.

"You look like shit." You cupped his face to get a good look at his condition.

"Wanted to look like you."

"Well, you failed. I'm flawless."

You maneuvered the boy to his bed and let him flop down onto his stomach, before you rolled him over on his back to a more comfortable position.

You grabbed a blanket and placed it onto Sukuna, and you sat down on the side of his bed, your hand placed just inches away from his head.

"So, like, you gonna tell me what's wrong?" You raised a brow.

"What do you think, dumbass. I'm sick," he coughed, "duh." Sukuna quickly retorted, curling onto his side in order to put his head on your lap.

"How'd you get sick?"

Sukuna glared up at you.

You sigh, carding your fingers through his pink, unruly hair. He hummed, clearly content. And if you didn't know better, you would probably assume he was purring.

"Oh! I almost forgot," you rummaged through your bags; Sukuna grumbled at the lost feeling of your hands in his hair almost immediately. "I got food for us. Since someone decided not to show up."

You placed his hummus wrap — covered in foil — onto his bedside table, and set yours likewise.

"Have you eaten yet, 'Kuna?"

"I haven't had breakfast," he murmured.

"You could've just said a quick 'no'."

"Girls are so bossy."

"Hey—"

Sukuna cut you off with a whine. "Ughh, my throat hurts. And my head is throbbing."

You rubbed your chin with your thumb and index finger. You put the back of your hand against Sukuna's forehead. "You have a fever."

"Really? I couldn't tell."

"Take off your shirt," you demanded.

"In your dreams."

"More like my nightmares," you giggled, before helping Sukuna to remove his shirt.

You stood up to walk to his bathroom; Sukuna was quick to pull you back by the wrist. Even when he's sick, he's still got a strong grip.

"And where do you think you're going?"

You tugged your arm out of his grasp, "Don't."

You managed to enter the bathroom — without any more nagging from Sukuna — and grabbed a towel, soaking it in cold water.

Then, you walked back into his room, and placed it atop his forehead. Sukuna immediately went to remove it, before you swatted his hand away.

"Get this thing off of me. It's freezing," Sukuna scowled.

You had to restrain yourself from putting him in shackles, "This is literally helping you. So, shut up. You talk too much."

"This is literally," he coughed, "my house. Don't tell me what to do, girl."

"Doctor's orders."

"Nuh uh, you're far from a doctor. More like a witch instead," Sukuna snickered.

You rolled your eyes, already used to Sukuna's antics by now.

"Do you have medicine anywhere in the house?" You asked, caressing his cheek and rubbing it with your palm.

"Mmhm." He nuzzled his face impossibly closer into your hand.

You sighed, "C'mon. Work with me here, 'Kuna. Where's the medicine?"

A long break of silence, "'m not gonna tell you."

"Tell me, or else, or else I'll — ," you thought for a moment, "or else I'll tell your grandpa. And you know how he takes of people when they're sick."

Sukuna's eyes immediately shot open. He knew his grandpa's old fashioned ways.

"It's in the cabinet in the kitchen. The one above the fridge."

You struggled to reach, having to stand on your tiptoes, but at last, you brought a bottle filled with red liquid and a measuring cup to Sukuna's bedroom.

When you entered, he immediately started to move away from you. Alas, he only had so much room on his bed.

"I would rather die, than drink that shit." Sukuna pointed at the cup with his finger.

"Then die," you quipped back, shoving the cup — that you filled with medicine — into his hands.

Sukuna glared at you, but you remained unwavering in your demand. When he realized there was no point in trying to argue, he leaned his head back and drank.

"Weirdo," you sneer.

"What's the problem now?" Sukuna placed the now empty cup on his table and fell back onto his bed, covering his eyes with an arm.

"You drank the medicine like it was a shot."

"Doesn't matter."

Sukuna began to cough, and cough, and cough. He sat upright.

You rubbed his back.

Sukuna felt utterly selcouth. He never had someone help him through a sickness. Sure, Grandpa was always there, but he's different. Sukuna's had tutors, coaches, people whose jobs were to help. But it wasn't your job.

"Why?" Why do you help me? Sukuna asked.

You know why. But those words never left your mouth. Instead,

"Shh. Be quiet. Let me take care of you."

At the end of the day, you knew why you were helping Sukuna. And Sukuna knew how you were helping him.

You tucked him in, raised the blanket up to his shoulders, adjusted the towel on his forehead, and kissed his forehead.

"Don't overexert yourself," you walked to the door, "I know you will."

Sukuna wanted to call your name, have you stay by his side, run your soft fingers through his hair for just a little longer, but his throat itched, and he didn't even have the energy to cough or sneeze. So, alas, he shut his eyes, and dreamt instead.

#sukuna x reader #jjk x you #ryomen x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna x you #jjk x reader

[sunnydayjackass]

I could get hc from jack's reaction to s/o waking up in the mood to dye her hair pink

You’ve been in the bathroom for a very long time, you didn’t know what exactly had gotten into you but it’d been stuck in your head.

Pink.

After staring in your mirror for long enough, hands bracing against the lip of the sink- at some point you just made the commitment to it. Brushing through your hair, beginning to pin back sections of it and then rummaging through your drawers for a stained plastic bowl, application brush, some all purpose plastic gloves that never quite fit right- on anyone you swear- and bottles of dye you’ve accumulated over time on similar impulses. The smell of bleach and developer mixing together hits your nose as you begin to stir the mix with the soft clicking of plastic. A cursory back look in the mirror, you shed your shirt left in just a sleeveless undershirt that you decide a bleach splotch or dye can survive.

Ordinarily, Jack wasn’t one to interrupt you- especially when it was the bathroom but…well, this was longer than anything else. Brow furrowed, he makes his way down the hallway and raises a gloved hand to knock gently on the closed door. “Sunshine…? Are you alright?” He sounds more concerned than anything. Worrying if maybe you’ve gotten sick, if you’re having another lapse of Ian centric intrusive thoughts, or god forbid anything worse.

You’ve already got bleach setting on your hair, foils carefully folded around the layers when you answer the door and you’re sure you look…well…a tinge ridiculous as Jack just stares at you. Of all the things he’d thought about you doing in there- this really hadn’t crossed his mind. “O-Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to intrude on you- I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. What’re you doing?” Well…it was obvious but there was just the wondering…why? Jack didn’t see anything wrong with your hair in the color that it was, he rather liked it that way- the way he’d met you. You just give him a little grin and laugh as you keep the door open and turn back to leaning over the sink as you continue to apply bleach to your hair.

“I just…I dunno, I wanted to do something different. Pink just felt right, I guess.” You give a little shrug, “Maybe it’s your influence.” You tease, glancing over your shoulder. You’ve since come to remember he won’t show up in the mirror. “Besides, I already dress like a clown at work. May as well have fun hair to go with the ensemble.” You roll your eyes about it but Jack can tell you’re genuinely excited to dye your hair, the process of change. His features soften, relax, upon finding that this was just something you’ve chosen to do on the mood of what seemed to be a good whim.

You feel him behind you as he inspects the different sections of hair and foils, “Do you want some help? For the back area? I’m no hairdresser but I think you can walk me through parts so you don’t miss spots.” He offers rather cheerily and he can see the grin split your lips in the mirror.

“Yeah! That’d be great- it’d really be a good help.” Jack carefully takes the brush from your hands and the small bowl as he finishes helping you apply the bleach and fold the foils as carefully as he can. They aren’t as good as yours but you don’t seem to pressed by his handwork as you crane your neck about in the mirror to get a good look. You pick up your phone and set a timer to rinse out and sit on the toilet while Jack settles on the lip of the tub just watching you fondly. “…what? I look stupid right now, don’t I? You’re thinking you’re living with some batshit crazy person who just decided to dye their hair pink.” Jack chuckles warmly in reply giving a shake of his head and resting his elbows on his knees.

“I don’t think it’s stupid at all, Sunshine. I mean, sure I liked your hair the way you had it but- pink will suit you I think.” It’s hard to envision but frankly Jack doesn’t care what you do with your hair, dye it whatever color, chop it all off, he’d love you all the same. “Would you want help with the dye too?” He offers sweetly, watching you tap a little on your phone before setting it aside and giving him another sunny smile.

“Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind.” You’re so enthused and excited, it’s infectious as warmth blooms in Jack’s chest. He gets up from his place on the tub, pausing to press a kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the kitchen to retrieve your morning drink of choice and bring it to you while the pair of you hunker down in the bathroom. You accept the warm mug with an appreciative hum as you take a sip before setting it down on the counter. Jack helps you pass the time, keep your mind occupied from the tingling itching sensation while the bleach works into your hair. The timer can’t go fast enough as you shuffle past him and Jack moves out of your way as you quickly start the shower head and begin to scrub the bleach out of your hair with a low moan as you can finally give your scalp some rubbing. Your hair now blonde- you waste no time gently toweling the extra moisture away before dumping a healthy amount of pink dye in another bowl after cleaning the brush. It’s something like bubble gum, like cotton candy, and Jack realizes well…he might like this more than he thought. His bright blue hair, your soon to be pink, it’s…cute.

He's quiet as he watches you paint sections of hair carefully, strand by strand before finally looking to him to help you get the back which he happily accepts the help. Towel draped around your shoulders, you sit backwards on the lid of the toilet as Jack helps. As the color begins to process through your hair, you seem to almost bounce on the balls of your feet after you get up, looking at yourself excitedly in the mirror. Time ticks along and your head is again under a stream of water, though Jack again offers to help- large fingers massaging your scalp as he shampoos your hair, swirls of pink suds circling the drain. It's a domestic gesture, one that Jack rather enjoys- anything to help you, to show you how happy he is to be by your side and help you do tasks such as these. Not long after Jack is shooed out of the room at your insistence- that you want to dry and style your hair.

The pout is small but halfhearted at best, Jack obliges and settles in the living room for the final reveal. Occupying himself by trying to familiarize himself with the tv and its remote. Trying to find something or anything to watch in the meantime. It’s still a bit of a struggle but he’s slowly learning- half from watching you and your patient teaching. He’s a few scenes into Sixteen Candles when you re-emerge from the bathroom. Your hair is now dried and immaculately styled, your hair a (preferred shade) of pink that catches the light just right in almost a halo like glow and you’re absolutely beaming, swelling with pride and assuredness of your decision. Jack feels his breath hitch, caught in his throat. Maybe he’d had a few reservations about it but they were blown out of his skull as he takes you in. “Sunshine! You look incredible!” he hurries off the couch to cradle your head in his hands, fingers carefully weaving through the soft tresses to admire the color against his yellow gloves, “You’re look so sweet.” He peppers your face with soft kisses over the span of your cheeks, your nose, your foreheads and you seem further elated by him. You hold his wrists and lean into his affections.

“I dunno, I guess I…kinda wanted to match with you a little maybe y’know?” The thrumming of Jack’s heart almost threatens to break out of his chest as he smiles widely, resting his forehead against your own before capturing your lips in a slower, more deliberate, kiss.

“…I love you so much, Sunshine.”

#somethings wrong with sunny day jack #there's something wrong with sunny day jack #something's wrong with sunny day jack #theres something wrong with sunny time jack #tswwsdj #swwsdj #sunny day jack #sdj #sunny day jack x reader #sdj x reader

[arts-n-drafts]

POV: a writing exercise

Hey guys! This is the first writing exercise on this blog! Feel free to add your own in a reblog :0

The prompt for today was Perspective - each of us had 15 minutes to write a scene and then pass it to the next person. Then, we had to rewrite the other person's scene from a different perspective - be that first/second/third person or from another character's POV

The pieces are Colour Coded -

Espie - Purple

Athenodora - Green

FloralShirt- Pink

Let us know what you think! :D

-Mod Espie

Up ahead, the mountain loomed.

It was already twilight. The mountain’s peak was still brushed by the last of the sun’s rosiness, but shadows had creeped over the rest of its craggy body, and it in turn was casting its shadow all over the road.

At this sight, the lone man on the road stopped and sighed. He had ridden like the Devil was behind him the whole day, and still he had only got this far.

You look up to the mountain looming above you.

You feel your steps getting heavier as the twilight hides behind the horizon. You look at the mountain’s peak, admiring the last of the sun’s rosiness, before the shadows reach up to chase it away. The shadows that have shrouded the lands beyond fill you with determination.

Unable to take another stride, you stopped in the middle of the road and sighed. You had been running around the whole day like a sinner in church hunted by aggressive nuns. It felt like you should’ve made more progress by now.

I creaked up the stairs, dust hanging in the air like spiderwebs. My breath came fast and cold in the stagnant air, heart thrumming in my ears as I strained to catch the whispers above. Hand drifting to my foil, the other reaching for the trap door, I shakily pressed a sweaty palm to the latch. With rusty resistance, I force the latch open. Click, click, click. The footsteps pause above me. As I hold my breath, I hear scratches at the door. The wood hisses open, and as I brace myself and peek beyond it, eyes darting and sharp,  the pressure of the air seems to pop. All at once, winds gust and swirl around me, blinding me as I squint past the pain. Heaving a coughing breath, I push and tumble my way into the attic, slashing wildly about me. A deafening screech hits my ears, and I catch a glimmer of hope in the surprise it holds. Righting myself firmly, rhythm returning, I reach for the popping satchels of purified salt and silver at my belt, hurling them at the towering shadow that lurches above me. Not one to waste an opportunity, I glance forward with a biting strike and drive it backwards, creeping into the corner.

It has been so long since you’d had a good hunt, hasn’t it?

How long…? You don’t know… You can’t remember… It is always dark in this attic. The only lights that ever come, the only breaks in the musty sameness of this place, are the brief gleams and flashes that the preys bring through the trap door. You have forgotten what you do in the time between those moments. Perhaps you’ve been pacing up and down the attic, trying to find a way to break the monotony. Perhaps you’ve been lying with your eyes closed, waiting. Always waiting.

None of that matters now, though - now that there’s a creak on the door’s latch, and the sound of bated breath on the other side of the wood. The sound of something with breath. The sound of something alive.

Alive? Weren’t you like that, once?

You can’t remember.

I opened the door to see my father sitting on the bed. He looked nothing like in the photos. It was hard to believe those sunken eyes of his used to be filled with so much joy and youth. His hunching posture made him look rather out of place in this ornately decorated bedroom. 

“O-Oh gosh, Sera! Didn’t see you there!” He perked up as he walked over to me.

“H-Hello, Dad,” I said, not expecting myself to be so nervous.

“Um… Are you comfy with a hug?” He held out his arms.

“Yeah, sure, of course!” 

She hesitates gracefully at the door, a timid bug skittering by the edges of politeness and duty. He was the sun to her, a grand pillar of honor and wit that overshadowed her in her teens, yet a wacky-waving-inflatable-arm-flailing-tube-man of whimsy and joy in her childhood. She wasn’t sure what would await her behind those doors - a continuation of the humiliating past, something she could never live up to, or another stranger she didn’t know how to love? She wasn’t sure which one she wanted. 

The silence wasted its breath. She steeled herself once more, urging herself past those familiar doors to catch her father, pallid and weak, a hunched spirit ghosting his overbearing image. “O-oh gosh, Sera!”  the words felt flimsy to her ears “Didn’t see you there!” His smile lifted, a remnant of her memory. 

“H-hello, dad,” she spoke, the anticipation stuttering around her. 

“Um. Are you comfy with a hug?” his arms, broad and sturdy, now seemed to open like broken wings in his shattered image. She bit back a laugh, the absurdity of this crushing weight dissipating into dust, the overbearing presence of her past revealing darkness in the passing of his absence’s eclipse. Where was the blazing heat and pressure she had avoided? 

“Yeah, sure, of course!” she spoke airily, the breathlessness of a task overdreaded mixing with the adrenaline of the unknown. “Of course, dad”, she lied, “come here”.

As he crumpled into her arms, she wondered if there was really time to learn to know this fragment of her past, or if, like before, his changing self would pass. And in that, a sadness struck her, the inner child of her that mourned the dad she once knew, that perhaps hoped his newest change would be to return to her. “Happy birthday,” she choked. “It’s good to see you”.

“It’s good to see you too,” he breathed, “my darling little girl,” like a final nail in his coffin.

#espiedark #writing exercise #on writing

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 373, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, blood, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks

WORDS: 1071

“Okay, you ready now girls?” I asked Elizabeth and Katie as the three of us entered the office supply store in search of school supplies. “Remember, the plan is to first find everything that’s listed before we go looking at fun stuff!”

“Okay mommy!” And with that, the girls led the charge down one aisle, each girl carting a shopping basket and a budget of two hundred fifty dollars.

 “Oh look, we found the binders!” Katie squealed before her sister began to compare the prices. Elizabeth quickly found a two pack of three inch binders in varies shade of purples and plucked it into her basket before standing aside and waiting for Katie to join her.

 “Five inch three ring binders, check!” I marked off my checklist before following as the girls roamed down the aisle, finding paper and folders. To Elizabeth’s joy, there was an Avatar the Last Airbender inspired theme of school supplies, to which she very excitedly loaded her basket with ten folders and five two inch binders before following Katie into the next aisle to look at writing utensils.

 “Girls, you want my options on something?” I asked them, smiling when they turned to look at me. I picked up a six pack of pencils wrapped with brightly colored foils. “These may look cute, but the foil wrappings get clogged in pencil sharpeners and it is a literal pain to clean off.”

 “Katie, if we get a pack of these pencils, we can save three dollars each!” Elizabeth informed her, holding out two packs of twenty eight pencils.

 “Awesome!” she cheered, letting Elizabeth dump the pencils into her basket. “What next?”

 “Colored pencils,” I read from the list.

 “I don’t like colored pencils, prefer crayons,” Katie complained. “Can I get crayons instead mommy?”

 “I guess…?” I laughed as she grabbed a giant box of sixty four crayons for ten dollars before looking over at Elizabeth, who was debating between two packs of twelve count colored pencils- classic colors and pastel colors. Finally, she came to a decision and stuck both packs into her basket.

 “Keep an eye on your budgets!” I clucked as we next went into the land of backpacks and lunchboxes. Katie automatically picked out a bright red and hot pink striped backpack and lunchbox set while Elizabeth selected a purple and lilac backpack and lunchbox set, both costing about eighty nine dollars each.

 “We still got a little more than a hundred and thirty dollars left mommy,” Elizabeth informed me as she led the way into the next aisle, which was random miscellaneous items for pencil cases. After they had poked through and found what they needed, the three of us wondered into notebook land, where they found eight themed notebooks, which they added to their baskets.

 “Okay, is that everything now?” I asked them, handing over two gift cards with two hundred fifty dollars each already preloaded onto them.

 The girls checked out (Elizabeth’s total came out to $203.69 and Katie’s total came out to be $237.19) and the three of us left the office supply with happy smiles on our faces.

 “I see daddy!” Katie yelled, waving her arm up in the air. She then quickly reslipped her hand back into mine as we quickly crossed over deeper into the parking lot.

 Peter had the backdoor opened and was waiting to settle everything inside with a fatherly warm smile on his face as he hoisted the girl’s shopping backs into the car.

 “You got everything you needed girls?” he rumbled, shutting the back door before looping back around to open his car door.

 He jiggled the car door, panic flooding his eyes as he went around the rest of the car doors before turning to face me with terror clear as day on his face.

 “I accidently locked Baby Tommy inside the car,” he winced.

 “I’ll run inside and get someone to help!” Elizabeth offered before zipping straight clear across the parking lot.

 She came back out with a young man dressed in an old shirt, ripped jeans and a tracking device strapped to his ankle.

 “I heard what happened,” he told us. “I used to break into cars, long story short- I’m going to head over to that dry cleaner’s and get a wire coat hanger, I’ll be right back, alright?”

 I was near hysteria as Peter held me and the girls. Baby Tommy was sleeping peacefully as the man raced back up to us, holding the coveted wife coat hanger. He bent it into a shape before working it up and under the lip of the window.

 “Almost got it, almost got it…” he grunted before the door lock loudly clicked open. “Got it!” He stepped away, almost getting smashed up against the car as I crowded in, getting Baby Tommy out of his car seat and into his mommy’s arms.

 “Oh you’re alright!” I sobbed joyfully, pressing a kiss to his forehead and chuckling when he wrinkle his face up before letting out a violent sneeze. “Bless you Baby Tommy! Oh my goodness that was such a big sneeze! Do you feel better now?”

 He just cracked an eye open and scowled at me before settling himself to go back to sleep.

 “Baby Tommy, Baby Tommy, little chubby tummy,” I sang with a choked up voice, giving the sleeping baby my finger to grip at. “Baby Tommy, Baby Tommy, kiss, kiss, kiss…”

  TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

 If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

 PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@starchild0985​

#Real person fiction (RPF) #Tattooed Wings #Peter Thomas Ratajczyk #Type O Negative #Vanessa Rose Pickings/ little girl #Special needs baby. #Aria Bradley #Evie Bradley #Deaf #American Sign Language (ASL) #Elizabeth Ratajczyk #Alopecia #Thomas Joseph Ratajczyk/ Baby Tommy #Autism #Katie Ratajczyk #Down's Syndrome #Matching tattoos soulmate AU

[outerbankies]

new light blurb: tongue tied — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: back in the obx for the first time since you left for college, you run into the one friend you missed more than you care to admit.

warnings: alc and weed and swearing

a/n: aka kelce’s first thanksgiving eve party so takes place their freshman year of college. pic from kelce’s story lol

From part 1: “Or the first time you saw him since moving away, when Kelce had thrown a Thanksgiving Eve rager. You almost hadn’t recognized Rafe in the smoke filled house, but he had moved to you eagerly like he’d been waiting for you all night.

And now you realize, he probably had.”

&

From part 2: “My worst fear was that you’d come home with some college boyfriend I couldn’t compete with,” he admits. “I was nervous as fuck the first time we were all back here for the holidays. And then I saw you at that party and I just thought: 'alright, still got it bad.’”

—

“C‘mon, guys. Kelce really wanted us to come.”

“But,” your friend, Margot, groans. “I just don’t understand why we can’t go drink rosé in Gretchen’s basement.”

“Becauuuse,” Gretchen sing-songs. “All of our friends are going to be here tonight. And I miss partying in Figure 8.”

Margot laughs at that. “That’s actually kinda sad, Gretch.”

“Yeah, well,” she sighs. “That’s what happens when you go to a liberal arts school in Vermont.”

“Okay,” Margot concedes. “But I need about three shots right when we get in if I have to see people from high school tonight. Kelce probably splurged on booze, yeah?”

“Of course he did. I’m so excited to see everyone,” you say quietly, your smile just to yourself as you continue the walk up Kelce’s driveway. It’s already packed, the three of you arriving late as you always did, even in high school. Old habits die hard.

You hear Margot giggle when Gretchen murmurs something at your last comment, and shoot them both a weird look. But they just shrug as the three of you finally make your way into the house, the two girls hanging tightly on either of your arms.

Margot made good on her proclamation, Gretchen following her to the kitchen as soon as you’re inside.

You’re caught up waving to people, Griffin’s hug lasting a little too long, lost in the crowd to the point where your friends don’t wait for you to follow anymore.

You finally make your way to the kitchen after a while, already feeling dazed and a little tipsy after taking a couple of jello shots with some old classmates. You’re caught up in surveying the expansive kitchen packed with people you haven’t seen in months, trying to spot Gretchen’s pink dress.

“Hey, California.”

Rafe Cameron is leaned up against the counter by the fridge, arms crossed over his chest. That same self-assured smile that you pretended to never notice still on his face, looking comfortable as ever, like he owns the place. Until you meet his gaze and he’s immediately pushing off the counter, making his way toward you. He stops at the fridge on his way, pointing at you across the way. “Drink?”

“Please.”

Some stubborn strands of hair had fallen out of his usual gel—or maybe he was using less, you wonder. He pushes them back as he opens the fridge, only surveying its contents for a split second before immediately going for a bottle of wine on the top shelf.

He turns and kicks the fridge door shut, presenting it to you. “Kelce got this for you.”

“Lemme see,” you say, holding your hands out for it while Rafe grabs a red cup off of stack on top of the fridge, his t-shirt riding up just so on his stomach. You blink and look away immediately—god, you were so not used to being around him anymore—going back to studying the label. “Wow, he has good taste.”

“I have good taste,” Rafe corrects, cutting the foil off for you with one of his keys. “He made me nab it from my dad’s cellar.”

“Oh, so Ward has good taste. That was nice of you though,” you grin. Your heart seizes momentarily in your chest when Rafe suddenly leans closer to you, arm outstretched to rest his hand on the counter behind you. Up close like this you notice the subtle changes, but more importantly, all the ways he’d stayed the same. Comfort and thrill all wrapped into one high school crush that you’re beginning to think will never truly die. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he smiles, leaning back, displaying the corkscrew he has in hand, nabbed from the counter behind you. “How’s school? When’d you get home?”

“Good. Late last night,” you sigh, collecting your thoughts. “So I’m tired, but. Time difference helps.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Rafe says, handing you a red solo cup full of wine. He glances at his watch. “It’s only, what, seven for you right now, huh?”

“Yeah,” you smile, taking a sip of your drink, trying to remind yourself that everybody calculates time zones that easily—it doesn’t mean anything.

“Do you like it all the way out there?” Rafe wonders.

“I do. It’s different, but nice.”

“I see that on you. Whole California vibe,” he says, causing you to quirk a brow. Rafe smiles. “You know, vegan hippies who love astrology and whatever.”

“Ha, ha,” you say sarcastically. “Spoken like a true scorpio.”

“But hey,” Rafe says, voice going a little softer. You have to lean in a little closer to hear him properly. “That’s awesome. I’m glad you like it. You worked hard—I told you that you could do it.”

“Yeah,” you say, your eyes scanning his face. “You did.”

Your mind briefly wanders back to college applications season, exactly a year ago from now. You’d been stressed to the point of tears at one point—overwhelmed by the pressure you put on yourself to carve out a new path, away from the Outer Banks and away from where your parents expected you go to college. And your friend Rafe had been right there for you, to assure you that it’d all be fine—and he was right.

“But what about you? Did you rush?” you ask, changing the subject. “Oh, wait. Let me guess.”

“Ha, ha,” Rafe repeats. “I’m guessing you didn’t?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Not really my thing. But I love that for you.”

“Hold on, not your thing? You have to be a legacy,” Rafe says.

You shrug. “Figured I already pissed my parents off enough by not going up north, might as well fully send it.”

Rafe watches you for a second, his eyes shiny, from the liquor, you have to assume. “You’re trouble. C’mere.”

You set your wine on the counter as he pulls you into a quick hug, the sounds of the party momentarily quieting to a dull buzz as you’re pressed into his chest.

“Did you miss home?” you ask, pulling back after a second. His left hand lingers as he leans away from you again, dragging from the small of your back and across your hip until his touch is gone from you.

Rafe scans your features, bringing his own beer back to his lips. “Some of it. Definitely.”

“Y/n/n! You made it!”

Kelce is pulling you into a bone-crushing hug as he comes up behind you, Rafe moving your drink further away from you so it doesn’t spill. You giggle while Kelce presses aggressive kisses into your hair and on your cheek, quickly realizing how drunk he already is.

“Kelce,” you smile. “I missed you.”

“Missed you,” he says, glancing at your empty hands. “I’m a terrible host. Where’s your drink?”

“Oh,” you say, twisting around to pick it up and show him. “Rafe already got me one.”

“I’m sure he did,” Kelce says.

“I mean—it’s my wine, technically,” Rafe fumbles. You just smile obliviously at them both.

“How’s school treating you?”

The three of you catch up, taking turns exchanging horror stories about move-in, first nights out, required eight AM lectures. You can’t help the way your eyes trail over Rafe’s face as he tells you about pledging his fraternity, or the way his eyes twinkle under the harsh kitchen lights, the shirt you don’t recognize pulled tightly over his shoulders. You might get a little carried away, jolting when Kelce’s fingers suddenly dig into your ribs.

“Hey. I asked you a question.”

“Sorry, what?” you laugh, pushing away his hands where he keeps jabbing them into your stomach and taking a large gulp of your drink.

He smirks, eyes flickering to Rafe, then back to you once his friend breaks eye contract. “I was just wondering if you managed to find some uppity new boyfriend out at school yet.”

“Ah,” you sigh, that thought the furthest from your mind. “No, Kelce. C’mon, you’d know.”

Just then, Margot and Gretchen call you over from the other side of the kitchen, more jell-o shots in their hands. You turn back to Rafe and Kelce, giving them both a smile. “Duty calls. Nice to see you guys. Hit me up before we leave?”

“Yeah,” Rafe nods, while Kelce just watches the two of you. You give them both a two finger salute before heading off, knowing you’re gonna need more than a few jell-o shots to shake the feelings you were having about an old friend.

—

“Could you have been any more fucking obvious?” Rafe says, harshly nudging Kelce’s shoulder once you’re out of sight.

“What? You wanted to know. Now you know,” Kelce rolls his eyes. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I was just curious,” Rafe sighs, exasperated. “Jesus. Now she’s gonna think I want to—”

Kelce narrows his eyes. “Don’t you?”

“That doesn’t—we don’t—it doesn’t matter,” Rafe stutters. But he doesn’t say ‘no.’

“I promise, dude. She’s not gonna suspect that,” Kelce sighs, putting your bottle of wine back in the fridge. “Y/n is seriously the only person I know who’s more oblivious than you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t think… no. She has to know I had a crush on her, right?”

“Highly doubt it,” Kelce says, considering it for a second. “Highly.”

“There’s no way. I was… there’s no way,” Rafe says. “Could you ask her?

“You could ask her. Take her out or something,” Kelce shrugs. Rafe just rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, maybe in a million years.”

“Nah,” Kelce says, downing the rest of his drink, patting his pockets for a lighter. “I give it, like, three. Four max? I mean, it’s Y/n/n. She’ll have to have found someone else by—”

“Will you shut the fuck—”

“Three what?” Topper says, coming up to join the two of them, eyes alight when Kelce pulls a joint from behind his ear.

“Three years until Rafe and Y/n get their shit together.”

“Ah,” Topper says. “Yeah. Three’s a good guess. Cause it’s gonna have to be her. Rafe’ll never do it.”

Rafe flips him off then plucks the joint out of Kelce’s hand harshly, lighting it himself and taking a long drag.

Rafe never expected his feelings for you to completely evaporate once the two of you left town for school. He didn’t even consider that physically possible.

He knew that no matter what he told his friends, his “crush” on you had at some point evolved into a feeling he’d never felt before—and wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again. But still, if seeing you again didn’t nearly knock him completely off-kilter, like he should’ve anticipated but didn’t.

You didn’t look completely the same, not if he paid close attention. Which he did. Your shoulders were pressed back a bit further, your smiles were a bit less timid—not for him though. Never for him.

But you were still you, and he could never get enough. Would never get enough, ever.

He sees you from across the way, and you duck your head as soon as he makes eye contact, turning back to Margot and Gretchen.

Rafe shakes his head, passing the joint off and exhaling a plume of smoke. “It’s never gonna happen.”

#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction

[papakhan]

What's Jessup's personality, in your opinion? He confuses me but he's also intriguing.

Jessup's a real mess but I don't know if it's actually like inconsistent writing or the fact that every time you see him he's in a very different situation. I wish his attitude towards Benny had stayed the same tho.

In the intro he's this goofy twitchy head-empty-no-thoughts goon who looks like he's surprised but excited to see Benny kill the courier. In Boulder City he's a sarcastic asshole who feels like just a generic gang member who does trust the courier eventually and I like that you tosses you Benny's lighter and tells you to shove it up his ass. He also allegedly has a friend in Vegas who he writes to and for some reason has the toughness and finesse perk.

But Jessup in All Roads is this fiercely loyal family driven man who disobeys and argues with Benny on a constant basis, questions his right to kill the courier and has a very solid moral compass that's implied to be tied to the Khans own law/morals. He can be a little misguided in his attempts like with looking after Chance but it just makes him interesting. I like that in the comic he is constantly keeping an eye on where Chance is, never listening to a thing Benny says (often times challenging him and winning out because he's stubborn and has the weight of the Khans behind him), but he also bows to McMurphy's leadership and respects his judgement. He's got this kinda younger sibling looking for backup from his older sibling vibe when he goes "cmon McMurphy tell him, it ain't the Khan way" and when McMurphy says Benny's plan is fine you can just see Jessup sulking in the background it's fun characterisation. He also listens when McMurphy tells him not to steal Benny's lighter but evidently didn't listen hard enough since he's swiped it by New Vegas but I think it's fun that he's had his eye on it from the very beginning.

All that characterisation kinda goes to waste in the game, if only because he goes from this three dimensional character who's honestly a bit of a foil to Benny and his charisma, to a two dimensional character used to further the plot. That's not a bad thing, he's just more interesting in All Roads. But it does kinda let you interpret his character however you want.

I tend to take bits from every version of him and also some hcs so here's my take on him:

He's a fiercely loyal, very dependable guy who's very family oriented but is just kinda a dumbass but he knows what he's about even if he counts on his fingers and asks you what colour pink panther is supposed to be. He can be pretty mean sometimes and he'll get in your face if he doesn't like you but once he likes you he'll sling his arm around your shoulders and drag you to the Khan moshpit as a show of friendship. He's a bro

Chance is his older brother, they share a mom but not a dad.

He's actually vehemently against the use of chems because he's seen what they've done to his brother and that's why he's been looking for more mercenary type jobs in Vegas so he doesn't have to be involved with the Khan's chem production.

He calls McMurphy his brother but they're not related. McMurphy is a couple of years older but they grew up together and a young McMurphy took it upon himself to try to keep Jessup out of trouble when they were kids which just ended up with both of them getting in trouble. They're bros tho they're besties

Jessup is an incredibly skilled fighter even if a lot of it comes from taking people off guard and just being chaotic. He's quick as a cat, a complete deadshot, packs a surprising punch and can take a lot of punishment before going down. No one ever expects it with all the screaming and biting he does.

He also gets caught in states of anxious confusion especially when fights are about to go down and he can sense it. King of leg bouncing while sitting still and chewing his nails.

His Vegas friend is a King he met when the Followers still visited and the Kings volunteered as bodyguards, the one he writes to is trying to help his reading and writing skills as per the Followers request.

The Khan's are very important to Jessup and he's second only to Regis himself for knowing and implementing Khan laws offhand. He'd be a good protégé to Regis but Regis won't work with him because he's too chaotic and one time told Regis "I ain't no fucking snitch" when Regis asked if he knew anything about the break in to their food supplies (he didn't)

That's all I've got for now but thank you for the ask!! I love Jessup he's so fun to think deeply about

#txt #jessup #fnv #fallout new vegas #great khans #anonymous

[echo-of-sounds]

halloween pt.3

Small Halloween drabbles with Aizawa, Toshi, Hizashi, and Fatgum.

Hizashi’s is for a mature audience. I realized how horrible it would be to go shopping with him. He’s definitely the type to get distracted by everything that you have to keep pulling along to get your shopping done.

Aizawa Shouta - Halloween Fair

“Let’s go down there.” You pointed to the branching street.

Aizawa took a long swig of his beer before chiding, “We’re not going to waste money on any games.”

“Sho, come on. You said you wanted to come with me but you don’t want to try anything.”

“They’re rigged and the prizes aren’t even good.”

You grabbed his hand, stopping him in the middle of the flowing crowd. “If we’re not going to do anything, let’s just go home. We’ve already walked everywhere and petted all the animals, anyway.”

He stared at you. Eyebrows weighed low. Dark eyes reflected twinkling lights. Only he could manage an incredibly grumpy expression surrounded by cute mermaid and fairy costumes and glittering jack-o’-lanterns. 

Heaving a long sigh, he glared at the stuffed animals in the distance. “Two games.”

“Each?”

“In total.”

You smiled wide and led him down the street. A wall of balloons caught your attention. Orange and black balloons laid out a pumpkin design with purple ones enclosing it. A fair amount had been popped. “I’ll play this.”

“It’s the easiest game here.”

“Which is why I’m choosing it,” you whispered so the worker didn’t hear. She handed you three darts. You quickly and rather easily popped three balloons.

“You can choose from those items,” the worker said, motioning to the right side.

The giant bat stuffed animal was the only real choice. Its wings fit around your shoulders and Velcroed together in the front. You wore it like a shawl.

Shouta just glowered at it. You squeezed his hand, smiling and requesting, “Can you try to have some fun? If not for you, for me?”

“I don’t see how any of these games can be fun. Most depend on dumb luck and the very few that require skill don’t offer good prizes. It’s how they take your money.”

“Try this one. There’s skill in it.” You walked to the apple bobbing game. “Looks like a new group is about to go. Join them.”

He kept his groan to himself. A buff man was talking with, or more like to his girlfriend, about using his skillful mouth to win. His gaudy machismo grated almost everyone around him.

“Dumb place to brag about that,” you muttered, noting the kids running by.

Shouta finished his beer, then agreed with a smirk, “Cherry stems are better at proving that anyway.” He tied his hair back and handed over his cellphone and wallet. “Hold these.”

He lined up at the basins right beside the big guy. The worker explained they couldn’t use their hands and the first to catch one in their mouth, won. The contestants crossed their arms behind their backs. A whistle blew and everyone’s head dipped into the water, splashing and soaking themselves.

But Sho waited, calmly watching the apples float and spin. He bowed for one. His nose and chin barely ducked under the surface to swiftly pop back up, holding an apple by the stem. The worker blew his whistle, congratulating him as the winner. A bag filled with colorful objects was thrust into his arms.

Lifting the bottom of his shirt, flashing his abs, Sho dried his face and returned to you. He handed over the prize: a bunch of 3D puzzle cubes and toy puzzle games.

Despite knowing he didn’t like PDA, you gave him a peck on the cheek. And you couldn’t help but smile overhearing the buff man accusing him of cheating. You’d rather deal with a grumbling and grumpy Shouta than someone who’s way too into it like that guy.

Yagi Toshinori - Haunted Hedge Maze

A blast of air rocketed out. You spun, hiding against Toshi. Despite his laugh, you felt his hand shaking on your back and his heartbeat quickening. “It was only an air cannon, sweetheart.”

You glimpsed out from the safety of his chest. No monster or man stood on the path. You muttered to yourself, “Okay, alright, I’m good.”

“Let’s go. The faster we walk, the faster we get out of this.”

“Yeah.” You stayed flush behind him, holding his hand, letting him lead. Beams shot into the night sky from all over, giving a little light. The dirt walkway was barely visible under the smog.

“Left or right?”

A yelp came somewhere from the right. His shoulders stiffened for a millisecond. You answered, “Definitely left.”

“Definitely.”

Something popped out from the hedge, growling and crackling and dripping liquid. You tucked into his shoulder blade as you walked past the monster. It glared then lurched forward. You pushed on Toshi’s back, “Go, go, go!”

The corner opened to a spacious area- definitely not the end. Little girls danced around in circles, all singing different nursery rhymes. Their white dresses splattered red with blood. When you took a step, they stopped, turned, and started.

“Just walk away,” you whispered.

He nodded, slowly shuffling to a new path. Right as he was about to step over the threshold, a ghost vaulted down from the hedge’s arch. The girls shrieked. You turned, seeing them rushing at you.

Toshi gripped your arm and pulled you to another pathway. A few other demons and doctors jumped out, scaring you each time. Your heart began to beat a little too fast, fearing you were lost.

But Toshi didn’t stop. He kept his hold and hurried forward, eventually rounding a corner that revealed the end. Relief smacked your chest. You could breathe and took the finish line’s safety to kiss him deeply. 

Fingers dug into your forearm, shaking more than before. He asked when you broke the kiss, “Are you alright?”

“Are you?” you said, half breathless, half laughing.

“I’m okay.” He looked at the Haunted Mansion’s front doors. “Do you want to go in there next?”

You scarcely made it through the hedge maze, but if he truly wanted to go through the next part of the haunt, you would. You croaked, “Yeah.”

Blue eyes snapped to you. “Are you sure?”

“Are you?”

A group of teens walked out giggling. They complained about the ‘lack of horror’ and mentioned heading to a nearby restaurant.

Toshi cleared his throat, “I could go for some food.”

“Me too. Let’s go.” You scurried back to the car, more than ready to leave.

Yamada Hizashi - Costume Shopping

Nothing caught your eye in any of the rows and racks. Hizashi’s laughter came from another aisle. He popped out, holding a racy maid costume, chuckling, “You’d look so sexy in this. Try it on!”

“No.” You grabbed it and hung it back on the rack. “If I’m going as sexy anything, I’m going as sexy Present Mic.”

Arms embraced your waist. Lips kissed and nipped your neck. You sighed his name, trying not to get distracted like he’s been the entire damn day. “I’d rather not get it on in a witch shop.”

“It’s a metaphysical shop,” he corrected. 

“Whatever. We’re just here for costumes. Have you found anything good?”

“No.”

“Well, we’re screwed then. We’ve checked everywhere else.”

“It’ll be fine.”

He continued his kissing while you searched the hanging outfits, hoping just one was good enough to wear, but it was all sexy nun, sexy clown, and sexy Pikachu. It wasn’t too much to ask for a decent costume. Or at least something that’s actually sexy, not a children's video game character.

Hands rubbed down your hips, clearly in want. You sighed, “Go try to find something.”

“Alright,” he sulked away. But he scurried back thirty seconds later, smiling as wide as he could, holding a green cylinder with spirals. “What about this?”

“What the hell is it?”

He read the sticker, “A six-inch, Reiki infused, jade dildo that increases love-”

“Hizashi.”

“- and nurturing, and stimulates and aids in emotional-”

“Hizashi.”

“- release. It also boosts fertility and balances bodily fluids.” His eyebrows bobbed up and down as he smirked at you.

“Hizashi, did you find a costume?”

“Oh no, I got distracted in the sex toy section.”

“You were gone for a few seconds. Costume shopping shouldn’t be this hard,” you grumbled, walking the rest of the aisle.

He followed, hugging you again, kissing your shoulder. “Don’t stress about it, baby. We’ll find something.”

“The party’s tonight and unless you’re going as a sex enthusiast, we don’t have anything to wear.”

His head snapped up. And you realized you shouldn’t have given him the idea because he ran back to the sexy maid dress. “I’m totally going as a sex enthusiast.”

You laughed, “You think you can fit your shoulders in that dress?”

“I’ll make it work. I’ll educate people on sex safety and give out free orgasms.”

“You’ll give me free orgasms. No one else gets you.” You kissed him.

“Oh, here!” He picked up something from the floor. It was a gray headband with mouse ears. “You can wear your gray dress and those fishnet stockings with the lace,” he hummed, pulling your waist against him. “And that cute, little pink bow you wear for me whenever I ask because you’re such a good-”

“Are you guys gonna, like, buy somethin’ or just keep makin’ out?” The worker blew a giant bubble with her gum.

“Sorry.” You took the items from Hizashi. “We’ll take these.”

Taishiro Toyomitsu - Making Candies and Cookies

Tai meticulously spaced out the globs into four rows, measuring their size and roundness till they were perfect. When it was filled, he took out another baking sheet.

“What do you need that for?”

“Oh, there’s more.” He tilted the bowl down. A huge amount of cookie dough still remained. “I quadrupled the recipe. Gonna make seventy-two!”

“Tai, we don’t need seventy-two cookies.”

“I do.”

“We already have two pies, fudge, brittle, and a truckload of whoopie pies. I think we have enough,” you laughed.

“Nah. I found a good recipe for peanut butter bark. Looks good.” He pulled a recipe from the top of the microwave, handing it to you as he finished pouring the cookie dough. “Get the stuff out, babe. We’re making that next.”

Pans and crumbs scattered over the counter. Foil and containers were running low. Silverware lumped in the sink. All the snacks and desserts were arranged on the table. As much as you enjoyed sweets, you weren’t confident in yourself to finish all of them.

“We’re going to be sick come Monday.”

“We’ll deal with it then.” He kissed your forehead on his way to the sink. 

You gathered the ingredients. The chocolate chips melted quickly. As you poured it, Tai kept trying to smudge some on your arms or nab the candies before you could use them. You fended him off each time and sprinkled peanut butter cups, toffee, and candy over the melted chocolate.

The white chocolate was next. Right when you were about to drizzle it, a finger sunk into it, gathered a globule, and moved to smear it on your cheek. You grabbed his arm, laughing, “Tai, don’t.”

“You just need a little right there.”

He poked your nose. Between your giggling and his strength, you struggled to hold his arm away. 

“Trust me, baby. I know what’s best for you. It’ll look pretty.”

“No-” Fingers tickled your side. You tried dodging it, but he followed, ultimately plastering your face with the chocolate. His mouth landed next, smooching and licking it up through your laughing.

You scooped some onto two fingers and smeared it over his forehead. It clung to his hair which rubbed off on yours as he continued tickling your sides. He wasn’t going to release you until you were nearly peeing your pants.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori x reader #All Might #all might x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #yamada hizashi #fatgum #fatgum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagines

[vannahfanfics]

Bird-Isms

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff, Comedy

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Fuyumi Todoroki, Keigo Takami

“Ahh, I shouldn’t be doing this,” Fuyumi scolded herself as she stood in line at a fried chicken joint, patting her cheek and pouting at her weakness. She’d only meant to run to the office supply store to grab more red pens, but the scent of deep-fried chicken tenders had simply been too strong for her hungry tummy to ignore. She’d yielded to its insistent yowls and cramping tantrum, trudging into the small diner with a heavy heart and salivating mouth. Since the new year, she’d vowed to eat healthier, but it seemed that her stomach still clung stubbornly to unhealthy morsels. A cheat day or two isn’t terrible, right? she tried to convince herself as she walked up to the counter. 

She was still trying to persuade herself that she wasn’t committing some kind of cardinal sin when the employee handed her a basket of hand-breaded, crispy tenders and golden-brown crinkle-cut fries. Despite her wrestle with guilt, her mouth flooded with saliva at the promise of the salty meal to come. Slurping at her soda as if she could drown her sorrows with it, Fuyumi drizzled ketchup across the fried foods before headed to a table in the corner. As she weaved around the young teenagers and families packing the joint, she kept her basket tucked against her chest to avoid spilling it. 

That ended up backfiring, however, when someone cut in front of her and she slammed right into their red-winged back. 

Fuyumi released an unflattering sound when the basket flipped up, painting the bust of her skirt in bright red ketchup as the chicken tenders and fries smooshed against her body. Worse, she gripped her soda on reflex, popping off the lid and sending fizzy soda and ice cascading down her hands and to the floor. In her shock, she lost her grip on the basket, and it clattered to the floor. She couldn’t even lament the cosmic joke that was foiled lunch. She just stood there, blinking rapidly with her mouth open, as the stranger whirled on his heels. 

“I’m so sorry!” he cried, crimson wings flapping anxiously and ruffling the napkins sitting on the table nearby with their winds. “Ugh, I tell the owner all the time that they need to upsize, I’m always bungling around in her trying not to knock over things,” he groaned while grabbing a fistful of napkins from the nearby container. He blushed a little and gestured to her chest with a meek, “May I, miss?” 

“O-oh!” she stammered, his question bringing her out of her stupor. She pulled at the hem of her shirt, stretching the fabric so the man could lean in to carefully scrape the thick globs of ketchup away. His wind-tossed tufts of blond hair bounced with each coordinated movement, and his golden eyes flickered up every so often to make sure that she was comfortable. After her frazzled neurons regained their function to synapse, she let out another gasp when she realized just who was wiping ketchup off her clothes. 

“Y-You’re Hawks!” 

“The one and only,” he winked and straightened, tossing the bunched-up, soiled napkins into a nearby garbage can. “I would say ‘pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ but I’m sure you’re not jazzed about me ruining your shirt.” 

Eyes fluttering, Fuyumi glanced down. Her nice button-up, ruffled white blouse was now blotched with orange-pink stains and smears. She hurriedly looked up, flapping her hands dismissively. 

“No, no! It’s my fault for running into you! I should have been more careful!” 

“Nonsense,” Hawks insisted, then looked down to the remains of her chicken tenders and fries scattered across the red-and-white tiled floor. “It appears I’ve also ruined your lunch,” he chuckled, looking up at her with gleaming eyes. “We could sit here and argue about who’s fault this travesty is all day, but regardless, I won’t be satisfied until you let me buy you a replacement meal.” 

Fuyumi flushed darkly and began to refuse, but the creep of Hawks’ eyebrow up his forehead silenced her. She swallowed her words and nodded meekly, prompting the hero to smile. Dizzily, she fancied that he had a rather nice smile, bright and warm and charming. She was floating on air after the whirlwind encounter, so she offered no resistance as Hawks led her to his booth by a hand on the small of her back. She sank into the pleather seat, slumping into its squeaky embrace, and pinched her thigh to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Instead of the gloom of her bedroom, when she opened her eyes she was greeted with the sight of Hawks sliding into the booth and placing a fresh basket of chicken tenders in front of her. 

“Thank you. This is really too much,” she said shyly, squirming and wringing her hands in her lap. With how much her belly was twisting, she doubted she could even manage two bits of the tenders now. Completely unfazed, Hawks plucked a chicken tender from his own basket and waved it around emphatically. 

“Please, it’s the least I can do for causing you the trouble of having to go to the dry cleaners,” he smiled. “I insist.” Not wishing to be rude, Fuyumi took a French fry and nibbled half-heartedly on it, giving Hawks a bashful smile. “What’s your name, miss?” 

“Fuyumi Todoroki. You work with my father, Endeavor.” 

“No kidding?” he said, eyebrows shooting up his forehead as he continued to wave the chicken tender around like a baton. “You must take after your mother because a woman as pretty as you sure couldn’t have come from a brute like him.” Fuyumi’s face flushed the color of the ketchup that had just stained her shirt, and Hawks only smirked mischievously, crunching down on the end of the chicken tender at last. “So what do you do?” he asked, the bit of chicken tender wedged into the pouch of his cheek. 

“I’m a teacher,” she answered. Though it was intimidating at first to reckon with eating lunch with the number-two pro hero, Hawks’ effortless charisma had already appeased Fuyumi’s nerves somewhat. She found that her stomach had settled so she could actually enjoy the meal he’d graciously bought her. “I teach elementary school not far from here,” she continued as she munched on her chicken. “I didn’t inherit a powerful Quirk, so I decided that instilling knowledge in the next generation was the best way I could serve my community. Besides, I love children.” 

“Hehe, yeah, the little rascals are adorable,” Hawks hummed, leaning a cheek in his hand as he casually tossed a chicken tender up, let it land in the basket, picked it up, and repeated it. Fuyumi watched him play with his food with slowly pinching eyebrows; she thought at first that he wasn’t even aware of it, yet his eyes glittered and looked down at his food every few seconds, implying otherwise. She jumped when he suddenly snatched it in mid-air and shoved almost the entire thing in his mouth. “So are you the oldest?” he asked around the large tender crammed in his cheeks. 

“Erm… yes,” Fuyumi said, really not sure what to think about Hawks’ odd behavior. “I have a younger brother in college, and then you must know Shoto, who attends U.A.” She tried not to shudder as Hawks chewed and swallowed the chicken tender, making a loud gulping noise. When he looked down at the basket, he picked up a French fry and then inexplicably tossed it at the window. It collided with the glass with a loud thunk, and Hawks cooed in delight, feathers ruffling. Fuyumi hid her chuckle behind her hand, though her amusement showed in the scrunch of her eyebrows. Hawks was completely oblivious to her, bobbing his head a little as he tossed another fry at the window. 

He’s a grown man! Is he really enjoying playing with his food? It was so impossibly ridiculous. Fuyumi scolded her students at lunch all the time for playing with their food, yet here was a sophisticated twenty-something pro hero chucking French fries around! Though she should be disgusted, Fuyumi found it oddly endearing; his golden eyes sparkled like topazes as delight filled them to the brim, and a childlike smile adorned his face. 

When a snicker managed to sneak out from behind Fuyumi’s fingers, Hawks looked at her quizzically. 

“Is something funny?” 

Fuyumi debated whether or not she should say anything, but she really couldn’t think of a good excuse for laughing. Besides, she was madly curious.

“Hawks, um… Do you realize that you play with your food?” 

The hero blinked at her, then looked down at the French fries and crumbs littering the table. A pink haze blossomed on his cheeks, prompting him to wrap his hands around his face and look at Fuyumi in complete embarrassment. His wings drew close around his body as if to shield him from her inquisition, but he looked so cute that Fuyumi couldn’t help but let out another light-hearted chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed! I’m only curious, that’s all.”

“It’s my Quirk,” he admitted, parting his fingers so he could mutter but still hiding his blush from her. “I’ve got bird tendencies, and one of those is… playing with my food. I don’t even realize I’m doing it. Sorry, I must have looked like such a kid! And here I was wanting to impress Endeavor’s pretty daughter…” 

Fuyumi blushed at his second mindless flirt but fought past her bashfulness to reach out and pat his arm encouragingly. 

“Don’t worry! As I said, I was only curious. To be honest… It’s kind of adorable.” When Hawks looked at her owlishly, she flushed darker and flapped her hands wildly. “I-I’m sorry! That just kind of slipped out. You probably don’t take well to being called something like that; I didn’t mean to insult you, I just— oh my, I can’t believe I just called the number-two hero adorable!” It was her turn to cover her face; she buried it in her hands, wincing at the heat rolling off her flushed skin in waves. Though part of her didn’t want to look at him but rather wanted to melt through the pleather seat, she couldn’t bear not knowing Hawks’ reaction either. Meekly, she parted her fingers to peer worriedly at him. 

Hawks’ expression could only be described as “a kid in a candy store.” 

“You think I’m adorable, Fuyumi?” he grinned. His wings flapped behind him, feathers vibrating to try to channel the sheer elation welling up in his body. Fuyumi slowly lowered her hands, almost confused by his happiness. He continued to beam at her as he explained, “Everyone always teases me about my bird traits. Nobody understands how hard it is having DNA that’s basically part avian… So it’s really reassuring to hear you call me that!” He tipped his head slightly, scrunching up his eyes as he smiled so hard it was blinding. A warm, fuzzy feeling bubbled up within Fuyumi, making her return his smile. 

“Oh, well… I’m glad you feel that way.” 

“Hehe, adorable,” he cooed, wiggling his shoulders in satisfaction. Fuyumi giggled again; he really was quite a childish man, but she simply couldn’t help but be endeared by his antics. 

Little chirps and tweets of delight bubbled from Hawks mouth as he polished off his chicken tenders and fries. He even finished off some of Fuyumi’s meal that she couldn’t finish. As he was licking the oil and crumbs from his fingers, Fuyumi bowed her head respectfully. 

“Thank you for treating me.” 

“Of course! My pleasure,” he quipped, popping a finger out of his mouth. He walked out the door with her, despite her embarrassment that someone would see them together. He slipped his hands into his pockets as they lingered on the sidewalk outside of the diner. Fuyumi stood shyly in front of him, clasping her hands while slowly swaying from side to side. “I enjoyed meeting you, Fuyumi. Really,” he said, giving her a serious look that made her heart thrum in her chest. “Maybe this is too forward of me, but perhaps we’ll see each other again sometime?” 

Reeling, it took Fuyumi a moment to process before she quickly sputtered, “Yes! I would like that very much.” Her face continued to redden as he gazed at her with lidded eyes, embers burning in the golden seams of his irises. “Hawks—” 

“Keigo. Call me Keigo,” he said softly. Fuyumi let out a little gasp, her cheeks growing even warmer. It was an honor to be trusted with his true name, one she wouldn’t take lightly. 

“Keigo,” she repeated, enjoying the way it rolled over her tongue. “Keigo, I look forward to when we meet again.” 

Ever the devilish flirt, he licked his teeth and tossed her a wink. 

“Until next time, then, Fuyumi Todoroki,” he said before diving in to kiss her on the cheek. Before she could even process the brush of his lips over her blushing skin, he was gone, flying into the air in a flurry of crimson feathers. She reached up to cup her cheek as she whirled on her heel, watching him bank around the corner and disappear from sight. The titillation of her nerves was the only proof it had even happened, bringing a giddy smile to her face. She wondered how close she would get to know Keigo and his bird-isms in the coming days…

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#huwumi #hawks x fuyumi #fuyumi x hawks #fuyumi todoroki #todoroki fuyumi #keigo takami #takami keigo #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha

[bellafarallones2]

From the meet uglies prompt list:

84. I’m not entirely sure who you are but we’ve been in a massive prank war ever since your first prank on your friend went awry and I was covered in paint

For JakeHollis, please? Sfw or nsfw! This screams them to me!

JakeHollis, SFW, very light angst, some absolutely weird vibes! QueerElfClub's Hollis cosplay is my headcanon for them always and forever

All told, Jake’s first day at Kepler High hadn’t been too bad. Barclay and Dani had told him roughly what to expect, including a rapid rundown of the Earth history he’d be looked at strangely for not knowing. So far, math was his favorite class, because it was the same as on Silvain. Mama had gotten him into something called AP BC Calculus, which seemed like far too many acronyms for a class about shapes. His next most favorite class was PE.

Now it was almost three, and the final bell had rung. Packing up his backpack had taken so much time that the hallways were mostly empty, and he wandered idly, looking for the exit. Barclay was supposed to be picking him up somewhere called the “kiss and ride,” though Jake had been assured kissing was not mandatory. No signs pointed the way, and Jake knew better than to ask someone for directions. Teenagers were the same everywhere.

He found himself in a wing of the school none of his classes had been in, passing rooms labeled ORCHESTRA and BAND and COLOR GUARD EQUIPMENT STORAGE. The sound of music came through the walls.

Finally, though - miracle of miracles! - he saw the light of day, and hurried towards the door it was coming from. The door was even cracked open, and Jake pushed it open the rest of the way and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Something hit his head.

Something that made a klang noise against his skull, and he thought for a moment his head had cracked - he didn’t know how fragile these disguises were - but no, there was something else dripping through his hair and down his face and down all over his new colorful jacket. He looked down. It was white and foul-smelling, and when he blinked his eyelashes clumped and stuck together.

Jake was fairly certain neither Dani nor Barclay had mentioned this. He could barely see, just the edges of a person saying oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I thought you were Keith, and tugging him back into the school, which was not at all where he wanted to go.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” the voice said, and Jake found himself in a restroom, without even the time to make sure it was the correct one - he needed to be in one called BOYS or MEN, or the one with a little outline of a person without a skirt. or GENTLEMEN. (Barclay knew a long list of things he’d seen printed on bathroom doors.)

But here he was, and he bent to the sink to wash his face and came up dripping. Then he repeated the introduction he’d given so many times already today.

“I’m Jake,” he said. “Dani’s brother.” (People knew Dani; she’d graduated only two years earlier. He told teachers he was Barclay’s brother. Barclay was a little older, but a better student than Dani had been.)

“Oh,” said the person. “I think I had an art class with her. I’m Hollis.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Hollis had curly black hair and brown skin, and the sleeves of their shirt were tattered like they’d been cut off and not hemmed afterwards. When they rubbed at the stuff on Jake’s sleeve with a wet paper towel he could see the fine line of muscle beneath the skin in their arm.

Jake took a deep breath. “Do you think you could point me towards the kiss and ride?”

By the time Jake climbed into Barclay’s truck, he was as clean as one could get with hand soap and paper towels.

“How was your first day?” said Barclay, tactfully not saying anything about the paint.

“Fine. I’m really glad you and Dani told me so much about what to expect. But when I was trying to find my way out at the end of the day a bucket of paint fell on my head.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Someone helped me clean up, though. Their name’s Hollis. I think we’re friends now?”

“Well, that’s nice.”

“One girl in my homeroom brought in brownies to share with everybody because it was her birthday. Are you allowed to do that even if it’s not your birthday?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Can I bring in cupcakes tomorrow? The ones you make are really good and I think people would like me if I gave them some.”

Barclay looked over at him, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll make you some cupcakes.”

--

The cupcakes were gorgeous. Each was as the platonic ideal of what a cupcake should be, the cupcake held before the fire to cast a shadow in Plato’s confectionary cave. The cake part was delicate and moist and yellow, and the frosting was pink, dusted with rainbow sprinkles.

“Oh,” said Jake’s homeroom teacher when she saw him come in carrying the lovingly packed tray. Barclay had put crumpled saran wrap between each cupcake so they wouldn’t knock into each other. “Is it your birthday, Jake?”

“Nope! But I brought cupcakes for everyone.”

“Alright,” said the teacher. “You can start passing them out now, if you’d like.”

Jake held out the tray to each person in the first few rows in turn, receiving varyingly sincere ‘thank you’s in return. But sitting in the back corner by the window was Hollis, and when Jake got to them, he didn’t hold out the tray. No, he selected the most perfect cupcake there was, cupped its soft bottom, and shoved the perfect pink frosting into Hollis’ perfect face.

“Oops,” Jake said sweetly.

“Jake!” said the teacher. “What do you think you’re doing!?”

But Hollis was already laughing, wiping pink frosting off their face and licking it off their fingers. “It’s fine, Ms. B., we’re in a prank war.”

“Well, please refrain from waging it in my classroom!”

“I’m sorry,” said Jake. He’d never heard the phrase prank war before, but the word war he didn’t like at all. War was the slowly narrowing boundaries of habitable land, war was an enemy that was somehow both inuman and implacably angry.

The boy sitting to Hollis’ left was looking up at Jake with something like shock and anger in his face. Looking away, Jake held out the plate of cupcakes to him so he could select his own.

--

Jake still had trouble finding the cafeteria, and so most of the students were seated when he arrived. He was scanning looking for a seat where he wouldn’t be intruding on someone else’s friend group when Hollis’ waving hand caught his attention. “Yo, Jake! Come sit with us?”

Jake hurried over. Before he reached the table Hollis elbowed the boy who was sitting next to them, the same one who’d been next to them in homeroom, and he scooted hurriedly over into the next seat so Jake could sit next to Hollis.

“Hello,” Jake said, nodding at each person at the table.

“This is Jake,” said Hollis. “He got me good in homeroom with a cupcake to the face.”

The others at the table laughed.

“Jake, this is Keith, Madison, and Ty,” Hollis continued, indicating the boy who’d been displaced, a girl with purple streaks in her long brown hair, and a boy with a mullet.

“Nice to meet you,” said Jake. He listened to them talk as he unpacked the lunch Barclay had packed him. A sandwich on part of a baguette, a chocolate-chip cookie, a honeycrisp apple (Jake had just been on earth long enough to have opinions about the different varieties of apples), and a note reminding him that Barclay loved him and wanted him to have a good day.

His tablemates were discussing what they were going to do over the weekend. Ty suggested going to Walmart, which was shot down on the grounds that they’d done that last weekend. No one’s parents were out of town, which eliminated the possibility of a house party.

“There’s nothing to do,” Madison whined.

“Can you drive places?” Jake asked.

Everyone went quiet. “Yep,” said Hollis. “When Madison’s parents let her use the car.”

It was Jake’s first autumn on earth, and from his bedroom window on the second floor of Amnesty Lodge he could see the leaves changing colors, red and orange and yellow between the bristles of the evergreens. “You could drive around and look at leaves. I’d like to come along, if that’s alright.”

Everyone was silent, deciding whether that was the lamest thing they’d ever heard or so lame it went straight through the other side into being kind of a good idea again.

“Fuck it,” said Hollis finally. “Let’s do it. And of course you’re invited, Jake, let me add you to the group chat.”

--

That Saturday, a silver Honda pulled up in front of Amnesty Lodge. Madison was at the wheel, Ty in the front passenger seat, and Keith sulking in the back. Behind it was a sleek motorcycle, and the rider’s helmet reflected the autumn leaves above.

Hollis pulled off their helmet. Their hair was disheveled and gorgeous. “If it was five of us in the car someone would have had to sit in the middle back, and that sucks,” they said. “Hop on, Jake.” They were holding out a second helmet.

“Um,” said Jake, offering them a bottle of sparkling cider with gold foil around the neck. “I brought something for us to drink?” The agreement had been that they would drive to one of the pull-off spots along the highway and have drinks there.

“Sweet,” said Hollis. “Put it in the back of the car?”

When Jake opened the back door of the car he saw a case of white claw on the seat next to Keith. “Was I supposed to bring alcohol?” Jake said. “I could have.” There was wine at the lodge; sometimes on the weekends Mama and Barclay went wine-tasting together, because Dani’s ID said she wasn’t old enough.

“No, Jake, you’re fine,” Hollis said. “Climb on.”

Jake fit the helmet over his head and climbed onto the smooth leather seat of the motorcycle behind Hollis. “Hold on tight,” said Hollis.

The motorcycle roared to life like one of Silvain’s larger beasts. Then it leaped forward, swerving hard to veer around Madison’s parents’ car. Jake swallowed a shriek and held on tighter. He could no longer feel the soft fabric of Hollis’s shirt, only the beast beneath them and the wind tearing at their jackets and the red, orange, and yellow leaves racing by above.

By the time they reached the appointed meeting place the others weren’t even in sight.

“So,” said Hollis when they pulled their helmet off. “What brings you to Kepler?”

Jake knew how to lie, when presented with questions like this. But with Hollis they found they didn’t want to. “I got kicked out of my old school.”

Hollis’s eyebrows went up.

“For… stealing.” Stealing food, because his family’s traditional hunting grounds had been corrupted by the Quell, and everyone else had barely enough for themselves. The huge mounds of apples in the grocery store in Kepler were the first thing to convince him he’d been exiled to paradise.

“Damn, Jake. And here I thought you were so wholesome.”

Jake threw up a hang-ten. “Nah, I’m a real bad boy.”

“Are you… with anyone? From your old school?”

“Nope. Are you?”

“Nah.” Hollis took a deep breath. It was the first time Jake had noticed them breathing. Human beings had to breathe so frequently, he’d found, and he sometimes forgot to until his lungs reminded him. His old body had been able to hold its breath for over an hour, collapsing his lungs so he was sleekness against the water inside and out. Incompressible.

“Wanna make out?” said Hollis.

“Yeah,” said Jake.

Hollis leaned in and kissed him. The best part was how warm their lips were, how warm their face was, right up close to his. No, scratch that. The best part was how they smelled, a smell Jake hadn’t encountered on earth up to that point but knew now he could never get enough of. No, the best part was -

Tires on gravel. Jake startled, but Hollis didn’t stop kissing him, even as Madison honked the horn on her parents’ car.

To Jake, that was the most surprising thing, that Hollis would want to kiss him in front of their friends. Teenagers were the same everywhere.

#jakehollis #taz hollis #jake coolice #taz barclay #taz keith

[twopoppies]

hiii, i love ur fic recs so much and i rlly want to ask if u know any similar fics to the strawberry milk fanfic? like the softness and the love and like almost soulmate-y vibe to it. it's so fluffy and cute and i went through all of ur fic rec categories similar to what im looking for and i love all of them so i was wondering if u had some more!! dont mind if they're a/b/o either- i loved them aswell

Hmmmm.... That’s sort of a tough one because there are some super specific aspects of that fic that I don’t think I’ve read elsewhere (or, at least, not done as well). I think what I can suggest are a collection of fics that are soft and gentle, with sort of a soulmate vibe... and hope that these work for you!

Ever Since I Tried Your Way by flowercrownfemme / @lesbianiconharrystyles (E, 26K) I loved everything about this fic, from the setting to the characterizations to the slow way Harry discovers himself and how Louis supports everything about him. It’s just beautifully written and wonderfully moving.

heart-shaped bruises by moonshinelouis (M, 2K) This was so sweet and touching and tender. I love reading Louis supporting Harry, encouraging him to paint his nails and be who he is, and reminding him that he loves him in every way.

we should open up (before it's all too much) by @disgruntledkittenface (M, 43K) This was just a really unique and beautiful story about loss, grief, and learning how to open up to someone.

A Slow and Steady Rush by godots (E, 12K) I really enjoyed how this one was almost all internal monologue and how the slow build up led to a sweet and awkward first time for them. Just really nicely written.

An Invincible Summer by Brooklyn_Babylon / @twopoppies (E, 45K) This one is mine, but you might like it. I think it’s got that vibe you’re looking for (although there’s some angst... but a very happy ending). 

we can take the long road home by @pinkcords (E, 46K) This was absolutely gorgeous. And it made me cry, damn it. Seriously though, the writing is so beautiful and I just loved how wonderfully they wrote the two of them––their vulnerability, the slow way they fell into each other, the passion (so hot). And all the lovely details––I felt like I was there with them, in the sweltering heat and the shitty motels and exploring the beauty of the coast. I loved everything about this. 

Under the Hide of Me by Blake (E, 3K) This fic is honestly just beautiful. There are so many sentences in it that just make my heart break and then soar. And it says so much in such a few thousand words. I could read it over and over.

all my love was down in a frozen ground by navigator (E, 16K) This is an old one that I didn’t have bookmarked for some reason. But it’s a favorite and I love everything this author wrote. This is one of those quiet, soft fics with a bit of angst and a lot of internal monologue and gentle conversations. I don’t know, there’s something so touching about it.

Tired Tired Sea by mediawhore / @mediawhorefics (M, 113K) Always a favorite author, this one is beautifully descriptive and moody and charming. I was anxiously waiting for this one from the first drabbles I saw on Tumblr. I loved the way Harry’s character unfolded and let Louis in, the way Louis made space for him in his life (and heart), and the way Harry’s character struggled with and eventually found a way to live and be happy with his fame.

Caught By the Sun by metal_eye / @metal-eye (M, 19K) Sometimes you just stumble on a fic that moves you deeply and makes you feel a lot and sits with you after you’ve finished it. This was one of those fics for me. It’s beautifully written in a quiet, poetic way. It’s thoughtful, and intimate, and full of memories that are both melancholy and beautiful in all the right ways and at all the right times. And it’s a fic that’s not been read nearly enough.

we can take the long way home by eleadore (E, 27K) You mentioned ABO and, while this isn’t actually ABO, it’s a canon divergent future fic where Louis is a “carrier”. It’s beautifully written (like everything this author does), so well-paced, and I just find the way their relationship is written to be so touching and realistic.

Some Clear Jellyfish Don't Sting by gloria_andrews / @gloriaandrews (E, 32K) This one is a such a beautiful portrayal of summer love with some pining thrown in to make the resolution that much sweeter. And yes, it made me teary.

A Red-Dusted Planet by onewasturning (E, 38K) Hey look! Another fic by this author. Can you tell I love their writing? It’s all SO GOOD! This one is so dreamy and sexy and this is one of those fics where the the smut (especially in the final scenes) is so emotional and revealing and I just really love this fic. 

Make Your Words A Weapon by @helloamhere (E, 36K) I love everything this author writes. This one just really hit me hard for whatever reason. Maybe it’s the way they explore Louis’ anxiety and coping mechanisms and pain and the way he pushes people away and protects himself, but also wants someone to push back just a bit and love him despite all of that. And the way Harry is the perfect foil for all of it, while also feeling like a fully developed character himself. Yeah, it’s probably all of that. Plus soul marks!

little black dress (it's all right) by istajmaal (E, 8K) I think this might have been one of the very first genderfluid Harry fics I read; this author was ahead of their time way back in 2013. It’s so sexy and incredibly gentle and tender and I just love the way they write.

Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 (NR, 209K) this fic will run you through the wringer, so I wouldn’t say it’s “soft”, but it’s really a great read. I really like the way the author took the boys from enemies to friends to boyfriends, and how we got to see how protective and supportive Louis became towards Harry.

In Dreams by dolce_piccante (M, 24K) This actually might be my favorite of this author’s fics, although I know it’s definitely not the most popular. It’s just soft and romantic and sweet and I’m a sucker for tattoo artist Louis winning over slightly uptight Harry.

and here’s the one you mention: strawberry milk series by wankerville (E, 158K, 3-part series) 

“So here's the thing,” he starts. “I didn't mean what I said a few weeks ago to like, hurt your feelings or anything. If you like painting your nails, then you should do that, and not like, care if anyone else doesn't like it because their opinions shouldn't matter, you know?” Louis takes a breath, finally glancing over to see the boy wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. On a whim, he adds, “And like, I noticed you scraping it off and you haven't been wearing any and I think you should because that's what you like.” or an au where harry paints his nails and drinks strawberry milk and is too nervous for it to be nothing and louis' just trying to figure out whats wrong with him

#if you liked #strawberry milk fic #my fic rec #larry fic rec #Anonymous

[scapegrace74-blog]

Ginger Snap, Chapter 4

A/N  Here’s the next chapter installment of Ginger Snap.  I now have this story mentally plotted to its conclusion.  It will have a total of 6 chapters, with perhaps a wee epilogue.  In keeping with the theme, the title of this chapter is “Where There’s Smoke”.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

I glanced around the sitting room, trying to see it through a stranger’s eyes.  Well, not a stranger.  Through Jamie’s eyes.

We had sold most of our furniture before leaving Boston, not considering it worth the expense of shipping across the Atlantic.  Frank hired an interior decorating firm to furnish the third floor Southside flat before we arrived.  The overall impression was stylish, if a bit soulless.  Having grown up a virtual nomad, there were no mementos or heirlooms to speak for my personal journey.  For the first time, I regretted their absence.

The buzzer rang, and I shook away my wistfulness.  Jamie’s tousled curls and reckless grin greeted me as I opened the door.  Today he wore a fitted navy jumper, faded grey jeans with frays about the ankles and the ubiquitous work boots.  A messenger bag was slung across his broad chest.  

“I hope I wasn’t supposed to supply the ingredients for today’s lesson, because my cupboards are bare,” I remarked after inviting him in.

“Jus’ as well.  I wouldna squander yer food.  I have all we need right here.”  Reaching into his bag, he removed a clear container filled with chunks of pink meat swimming in a broth of blood.  I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

“What sort of dish will I be making with those?”

Those summer eyes shone in merry provocation.

“No’ a dish, Arsonist.  An experiment.”  

Two saucepans were set on the stove.  Jamie had me place a few pieces of meat into the water of one pot before it warmed.  To the other I added a pinch of salt and a clove of garlic, but waited until it came to a boil before adding the chicken.  After five minutes, I used tongs to move the now-pale flesh to waiting salad plates.  Neither looked particularly appetizing, but the first pot yielded a glutinous blob.

“I suppose this is the control group,” I remarked, looking at Jamie where he leaned against my countertop, ankles crossed like a cover model.  “I’m already quite familiar with what culinary failure looks like, thank you.”

“No’ failure.  Variability,” my teacher argued.  “See here?  If ye want meat tae dissolve til it doesna hold its texture, low heat is key.  An’ if ye want tae infuse it with flavour, always combine heat an’ seasoning at the same time.”

I took a small nibble of chicken from the second pot, and sure enough it tasted mildly of garlic.  It was otherwise quite bland, though.  When I commented on this, Jamie nodded in excitement.

“Aye, verra good.  Nature seeks equilibrium, as ye well know.  Sae now ye have poultry tha’ tastes o’ water and water tha’ tastes o’ chicken.  If ye were makin’ a stew or chicken stock, t’would be a good thing.  Fer anything else, tis shite.”

I laughed, getting into the spirit of his well-executed game.

“Have ye any music?” he asked while we cleared away the results of round one.  “I always cook better with a bit o’ background noise.”

There was a high-end stereo system in the living room, but I doubted Jamie would be interested in Frank’s collection of Brahms, Mahler and Celtic harp.  Seeing my hesitation, Jamie dug out a portable speaker from his bag.

“Do ye mind?”  I shook my head and soon my kitchen hummed with guitar chords and plangent vocals.

The lesson lasted far longer than the scheduled hour.  Jamie had me bake, fry, roast and braise different samples, each time explaining why a particular technique might be used and insisting I taste the result.  It was so much fun, I shed my habitual reticence while cooking.

“An’ now fer the pièce de résistance,” Jamie announced in dramatic tones.  From his seemingly bottomless messenger bag he removed what appeared to be a miniature flame thrower.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked, forgetting myself.

“I wanted ye tae ken there’s a place fer fire in the kitchen, Arsonist.  Tis only a question of picking yer moment.”

With a flick of his lighter, he set the butane alight and handed me the small kitchen torch.  Using extreme caution, I seared the outside of the two remaining morsels until they were a rich caramel colour.  Jamie then wrapped them in foil, placing them in the oven to finish cooking.  When they were cool enough to sample, the outside was pleasingly crunchy and sweet, while the inside swam in moist chicken-y flavour.  We both declared them the winner.

“Tis a funny thing about fire,” Jamie remarked as he packed up his bag to leave by the more conventional front door route.  “It can remain hidden beneath the surface, burying its secrets deep inside.  Doesna mean it doesn’t burn, though.”

I thought about what he’d said long after he was gone, leaving me alone with his signature scent of rising bread and salt air.

That weekend, I blamed the poor weather when I declined Frank’s offer to shop for an engagement ring.

***

The next week, instead of asking to be buzzed inside, Jamie requested that I join him downstairs.

Grabbing a Mackintosh, my purse and slipping into comfortable walking shoes, I joined Jamie outside my door.  He was particularly animated, despite the foul weather.

“We should ha’ started wi’ this lesson, but t’wasn’t the right day fer it,” he explained as we walked towards the farmers’ market that took place twice a week in the shadow of Castle Hill.

I considered protesting that I already knew how to shop for food, but Jamie’s enthusiasm was contagious.

We stopped at every stall, sampling the foodstuff on display, which was surprisingly varied despite it being November.  Jamie knew most of the merchants by name and our progress was regularly halted by conversations on topics as varied as his family’s health, the latest rugby results and Scottish politics.  I envied his wide circle of acquaintance and apparent ease interacting with them.  There was no pretense, no stiffness, just a man who inhabited every square centimetre of his life to the fullest.

Jamie insisted that I taste various produce before adding it to the cloth bag he’d provided.  Honey-crisp apples.  Peppery radishes.  Herb-infused venison sausage.  

“Close yer eyes,” he instructed when I was practically dizzy with all the flavours.  Still, I complied immediately.  A rubbery moisture tickled my lips.  “Open,” he said simply.  I opened.  “Tell me what ye taste, Arsonist.”

I chewed the morsel of cheese thoughtfully, letting the taste and texture coat my mouth before finally swallowing.

“Creamy.  Thick.  Salty.  Sorrel.”

I opened my eyes only to fall into the inky vortex of Jamie’s pupils, which had expanded to almost eclipse his irises.  His hand still hovered near my mouth, muscles frozen in abstraction.  The cheesemonger let out an awkward little cough.  Jamie blinked, and the moment vanished.

“Sorrel?” he asked a bit gruffly.

“Yer lass has a fine palate, Fraser.  My sheep graze in fields full o’ it.”

I allowed myself a smug little smile.  Neither of us corrected the merchant’s presumptive pronoun.

Later that evening, I sat cross-legged before the fire with a picnic for one.  Frank had called from his office earlier to say he was working on notes for an upcoming symposium.  Before me lay the results of the afternoon’s market adventure.  Closing my eyes as I ate,  every mouthful set my senses ablaze.

We never found time to visit the jeweler that weekend either.

***

The next week, I fell ill with a miserable head cold.   Frank was in Oxford for his symposium, so I called Ginger Snap myself and explained to Jenny in a hoarse voice that Jamie should avoid coming to my flat at all costs.

I was curled up in a mentholated daze when there was a series of knocks.  It took several minutes to free myself from my blanket cocoon and shuffle to the front door.  Glancing in the entryway mirror, my hair called to mind an electrified poodle and my nose was twelve shades of raw, but I opened the door anyway.  No-one was there.  Leaning out to peer down the hallway, I practically tripped over a brown paper bag resting at my feet.

Inside was a metal thermos, still quite warm to the touch.  As I unscrewed the cap, my stuffed nose was assailed by fragrant steam.  Homemade cock-a-leekie soup.  I felt a glow fill my chest that had nothing to do with my fever.  Pouring a helping into a mug, I shuffled back to my couch-nest.  I felt better already.

***

The following week, Jamie was distracted.  I’d thanked him profusely for the soup, and asked if he could show me how to make it for myself.  As the chicken thighs and stock began to warm, however, I caught him glancing regularly at his phone, fingers drumming against his thigh.

“Are you expecting an important text?” I finally asked.

“Hmm?  Och, Arsonist, I’m verra sorry.  Tis only that we got a last-minute request tae cater a big corporate Christmas party, an’ Jenny is beside herself wi’ worrying.”  He tucked him phone into the pocket of his cargo pants.

“When’s the party?”

“T’morrow,” he confessed.

“What!  Jamie, what are you doing here?  You should have called me to reschedule.”

“T’wouldna be fair, what wi’ us missing last week on account of yer sniffles.  An’ wi’ Christmas ‘round the corner, I didna ken when I’d... er, when we’d have time for another lesson.”

I turned off the burner with a decisive twist.  Jamie opened his mouth to lodge a protest, but I beat him to the punch.

“Jamie, the soup will keep.  Growing your business is more important. I wish there was something more I could do to help, but under the circumstances...”

“Come wi’ me?” he blurted out.

I was nodding before the words finished leaving his mouth.  Notwithstanding the fact that he had just literally been teaching me how to boil water, I didn’t want to lose his company so soon.   We likely wouldn’t see one another again until after the New Year.

It was a thirty minute walk to Leith.  Jamie could probably have covered the distance in half that with his long strides, were it not for me trotting along beside him.  We stopped at several shops along the way to pick up provisions, arriving at Ginger Snap with our arms laden with the freshest food Edinburgh had to offer.

I had expected Jenny and Jamie to be working alone, but the fire station was abuzz with activity.  I was hastily introduced to Angus, a distant Fraser cousin; Mary, a childhood friend of Jenny’s; and Murtagh, Jamie and Jenny’s godfather.  They worked together like a well-oiled machine, and I stood awkwardly to one side, wondering what the hell I was doing there.  I was preparing to make my excuses when Jamie called me over to a spare station.  He gestured to the commercial-sized sink, which was full of vegetables of every dimension and colour.

“Claire, I need ye tae rinse and then cut these inta nice even pieces.  Can ye do tha’ fer me?”

"Consider it done, chef,” I said with a jaunty salute.

There was a feeling of camaraderie as we each went about our assigned tasks.  I chopped.  Mary baked.  Angus filleted.  Jamie cooked, and Jenny plated the various canapés, salads and sauces and stored them in the enormous refrigerators that lined the back wall.    Murtagh’s role seemed mostly to keep the troops in line with an assortment of verbal barbs. 

Music played in the background.  Volleys of witty banter flowed between us, but never at the expense of the work or anyone’s feelings.  Angus nicked himself with his filleting knife, and Jenny sent him to my station for treatment, saying I was the team’s resident doctor.  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so at home.

Time passed quickly and before I knew it, it was dark outside.  The bulk of the work was done and the pace slackened, the pressure of the looming deadline relieved.  One by one we cleared our stations, meeting at the small seating area to share a well-earned drink.

Jenny sunk into the couch beside me and let out a loud sigh.

“Ouf, I canna believe we got it all done.  Claire, ye were a godsend.  Normally I do most o’ the prep work, but it leaves me no time tae arrange the dishes.”

I demurred, uncomfortable with the praise.

“Nay, Arsonist, ye were amazing,” Jamie began to object, but he was interrupted by my phone buzzing.  Glancing down, I felt my face fall.   I’d completely forgotten about Frank.  Now he was texting, asking me where I was.  I quickly fired off a reply, then stuffed the phone into my pocket.

“Everything alright?” Jenny asked.

“Oh, yes.  It’s only my fiancé, asking when I might be home,” I answered, still distracted by my uncharacteristic lapse.  As I glanced up, I ran straight into Jamie’s iceberg gaze.

“I didna realize ye were engaged,” he looked pointedly at my bare ring finger.  “Congratulations.”  

He said the word as though every syllable pained him.  I quelled the urge to explain, to say it wasn’t a real engagement because I’d never agreed, that I’d only been looking for a sense of security, but somehow found myself in a cage.

Instead I hastily finished my drink, called myself an Uber and quietly wished everyone a good night, all while avoiding the many questions written across Jamie’s expressive face.

#my writing #outlander #ginger snap

[sorcerersofnyc]

The Last Thing Left (Zemo x F!Reader) 9/9 - The Epilogue

If it wasn’t so painfully ironic (and hilarious to watch,) Helmut would find the relationship between Sam and James a little sad.

Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.

While they wait for Torres to locate Donya Madani, Zemo brings Sam and Bucky to the home he once shared with you.

You reunite and he reflects upon his relationship with you (his wife’s friend and his friend’s wife) and your journey from being people with mutual friends to partners.

Part Nine: You Carry On

Angst, brief allusions to sex, I use Serbian Cyrillic as a stand-in for Sokovian.

Note: Main Character is neutral in most regards, but the story was written with my own cultural background in mind. (In other words, I won’t say what she looks like but I envision her as being black.)

First Chapter | Previous

***

You watch him go.

You watch him leave you once again— watch him go off into some dark, unknown future you can never be a part of.

And it hurts.

It hurts to know how much you’ll miss him, hurts to think you'll never see him again.

You take a deep breath (and another and another and another) but the pain only spreads faster as dread closes in all around you.

You feel lost in it, drowned by it, changed by it—but you won’t surrender to it. You’ve walked this road before and you know the way forward. So you take a step, then another, and you turn away from the outside world with a heavy, ragged breath.

The kitchen is far too cheery now. The sun streams inside through the open curtains, and the smell of coffee lingers in the air. Helmut washed the dishes before he left, leaving only his favorite mug behind. It stares at you from its place on the countertop, its dark ceramic gleaming in the light.

You don’t feel your knees buckle or your hands shake, you don’t feel the mangled sob rising up from your chest, you don’t feel the tears that gather at the corner of your eyes and pour down your cheeks like heavy rain.

Your body lurches forward. You reach out to steady yourself but somehow manage to knock the mug over instead. It strikes the title with a sickening clink that echoes through the air.

It chips, but it doesn't shatter. The coffee spills from the mouth and spreads fans out in every direction, staining the tiles on the floor.

Helmut would never know you chipped his favorite mug—but you cry about it anyway.

You cry for the life you could have had together, one where you dumped the stale remnants of his coffee every morning, one where your first kiss wasn’t also the last, one where he held you every day, and you healed your hearts together instead of apart.

You cried because your feelings had no place else to go.

*

Time passes.

*

Time passes.

*

Time passes.

*

You’re alright; you don’t break, or bend, or toil beneath the weight of your grief. The world moves forward, and so do you:

Anežka returns. (“How was the Baron?” She asks you. “We’re the two of you able to… become familiar with one another?” You wish.)

You learn Helmut was taken to the raft. (You order his affairs and have his things sent over to him.)

Sam Wilson becomes Captain America. (He gives a speech that inspires the world to do better.)

The Flag Smashers are killed in a car bombing. (‘No suspects as of yet,’ the report says and your heart tightens at the thought of who might have been responsible.)

You carry on.

*

You receive a package in the mail one day, a thick brochure from The Raft outlining the specifics of a Prison Work Rehabilitation Program.

The front photo was disturbingly picturesque, framing the facility as less of a prison and more like a seaside resort.

'Propaganda,’ you think as you flip through the glossy pages. The program is endorsed by some guy named Thaddeus Ross. You think he was a general or a secretary or something but you aren’t quite sure.

The back of the brochure displays an image of a happy family reuniting and you roll your eyes. Prisoners on the Raft don’t get to go home to their families.

You toss the brochure away without a second thought.

*

A few weeks later, you’re sent flowers after an art show. It’s a beautiful arrangement; twelve thick-stemmed roses wrapped in gold foil.

It adds a classic touch to the modern look of the Visiting Artists’ Office, standing out amongst the dark tables and chairs. But it’s the card that catches your attention; it was left completely blank.

You aren’t sure how you feel about having a secret admirer but you take the flowers home regardless. They’d look nice in a vase near the window, the bright reds mixing with the autumn leaves.

The trip home is short and uneventful and you thank your driver on the way to the door.

You slide your house slippers on and are surprised to see Anežka’s pink one’s by the door as well. You can hear her in the kitchen, opening and closing the doors of the pantry as the air grows warm with the spices of her favorite tea.

“Anežka,” You call out, “I’m home!”

You set the flowers on a side table, barely conscious of the soft footsteps trailing in from the kitchen till Anežka sets her mug down on the coffee table.

“Look what I’ve got. A 'secret admirer’ sent them. Should we put them here or downstairs?” You take an artful picture of the arrangement.

“Neither is a wholly appropriate place.”

You freeze.

Your mind draws blank as it fails to process the words you heard someone other than Anežka speak.

You turn around quickly, knocking the flowers off the table as you do.

“Helmut?” Your voice lowers as a million feelings bubble up inside of you. They threaten to explode.

Helmut is there—right there—dressed in nothing but a bathrobe and his house slippers with a cat-like smile stretched across his handsome features.

He strides forward with confidence, stopping so close you nearly reel back.

“These are special flowers, драга, brought all the way from Ecuador.” He kneels before you, the hem of his robe splitting at the knee to offer a very seductive glimpse of his thigh.

He reaches around you, grabs the fallen bouquet, and sets them gingerly on the table as he stands. “We should place these in your bedroom so you may admire them every night.”

“What’s happening?” You finally manage to ask him, “what’s going on?”

“I’m home,” Helmut teases, speaking as though you failed to notice his soft brown eyes, his damp hair, or the heat that surges between you as he stands close enough to touch, to kiss if you wanted.

He brushes a hand against your cheek.

“Helmut,” you whisper again, but your voice is stern and more controlled this time. “How are you here? You’re supposed to be in Raft.” Despite your words, you lean a little closer, resting both hands against his chest, near the opening of his robe.

“It seems someone of great influence decided my sentence was better served outside the walls of the prison.”

“Like civil service?” You ask, but then you remember the brochure you received in the mail— the propaganda, or so you believed. “Or… Prison Work Rehabilitation?”

“Something like that. There’s a team,” he makes a flippant gesture with his hand before bringing it to rest on the curve of your hip. “Though I needed time to address the matter of my… financial limitations.”

“Limitations?”

“Of course.” He pulls you closer, encircling you in his arms. “The holder of my assets is quite a formidable woman. I thought it best to pay her a visit, to request access to the full extent of my resources. As stubborn as she is, I assume it will take a great many visits.”

“That would be wise,” You nod slowly, a wide smile coming to your face.

“I can’t be with you always, драга,” he tells you, “but I will be here.”

And you don’t quite remember what you promise in reply (or if you promised anything at all) because he kisses you.

Your fingers slide down his chest, brushing past his chest hair and the little charm he wears around his neck.

You don’t know how long you stay there, kissing, and sighing, and melting in the arms of the man you love, but you’re vaguely aware of being walked back against the wall, of the front door opening and closing at some point, and of Anežka pausing by the threshold, groceries in hand.

“Anežka,” He greets her, but his dark and hungry gaze lingers on you, only you.

“Hello, Baron… It’s good to see you.” Her voice waivers, but the sentiment is real. “M-Miss,” she nods in your direction.

“Hi, Anežka.” You’re not quite sure what to say.

“Why don’t you take a few days off?” Helmut suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care of things here.”

“O-of course, Baron—Thank you.” Anežka glances between you one more time before setting the bags down near the door. “Good luck, Miss!” She calls out before leaving.

And as her footsteps grow quiet and hush in the distance, his eyes meet yours and his kiss finds its home upon your lips.

(And later when Helmut comes undone beneath your gaze and the rocking of your hips against his, you bring him home once again.)

And he keeps coming home to you.

***

And so we've reached the end. Thanks so much for reading! I appreciate all the support. This was my first fanfic in many years and I'm glad I could bring it to a close.

The end is a bit of wishful thinking on my part but I wanted to end on a happy note.

I'll probably write one or two bonuschapter that's basically just smut. So if you're 18+ and would like to remain on the taglist (or be added,) just let me know!

Taglist:

@actuallyanita, @fillechatoyante, @viviace, @buckyandlokicanhaveme, @sapphiredreamer26, @robur-bellicum, @apparrio

Previous

#Zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #mcu zemo #reader x zemo

[tuanyiems]

Ice Choco

Yugyeom x Reader (f) fluff x smut words: 4k plot: you’re nervous about spending the holidays with his parents, but you should be more nervous about the boy who can’t seem to take his hands off of you, established relationship!au christmas!au warnings – fingering, teasing, slow sex, unprotected sex, creampie, this one’s extra fluffy I think, it’s Christmas after all :’) a/n – Christmas came early hehe enjoy! part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3

You smile fondly at the twinkling fir tree, golden lights and sparkling red bulbs drape over its forest green body. Chocolate squares wrapped in silver foil that you and Yugyeom had hand wrapped yourselves hang on red ribbons throughout the tree. You pluck one off and pop it into your mouth. The peppermint chocolate melts on your tongue, coating your mouth in sweetness.

When Yugyeom first invited you to join his family for the holidays, you were anxious. It hadn’t even been three months since you started dating. You wondered if you were moving too fast. Would his family judge you? Would Yugyeom realize how awkward of a person you were? Would you be left sad and alone on your favorite holiday?

It was only after plenty of reassurance from Yugyeom that you decided to just go for it. You liked Yugyeom, a lot, and despite the short time you’ve been dating, every day has been full of happiness. And if his family was anything like Yugyeom, you would probably like them too.

And that’s how you found yourself here, in the Kim’s living room on Christmas Eve. Unlike what you had imagined, his parents welcomed you with open arms. You learned exactly where Yugyeom got his warmth and kindness.

And as if this moment couldn’t be more picturesque, a full moon hung in the night sky like a shining ornament.

“Pretty,” Mrs. Kim interjected, stepping beside you.

“It is,” you smile, looking out the window.

“No, I was talking about you dear,” she grins, squeezing your arm.

“O-oh,” you stutter, feeling your cheeks heat.

Laughing, Mrs. Kim tilts her head back the same way Yugyeom laughs when he’s teasing you. “Aren’t you a cutie! Yugyeom did good finding you.”

“T-thanks,” you sputter, not sure what to do with yourself. You fix at the red plaid pajamas the Kim’s gifted you with this morning. “I’m glad you invited me…or, well, I don’t know if you invited me. I don’t know if you knew about me. Maybe Yugyeom just brought me without notice. Oh, I hope he didn’t-”

Giggling, Mrs. Kim pulls you into a side hug.

“Sorry,” you apologize, taking a deep breath. “What I mean is, you’ve been so nice. I’m happy to spend the holidays with you and your whole family. Really, thank you.”

“Not at all,” Mrs. Kim scrunches her nose, smiling. “It’s nice to have another woman in the house. Tomorrow, my daughter-in-law will be joining us too!”

“I can’t wait to meet her and your eldest son!” You agree, “I’ve heard so many great things from Yugyeom.”

She nods, giving your arm another squeeze. “Yeah, Yugyeom dotes on his brother so much. But until then, you can use Euigyeom’s old bedroom. I’ve prepared fresh sheets so you can get a good night’s sleep.”

“Fresh sheets won’t feel as cozy as my bedsheets though,” Yugyeom interrupts, coming up beside his mother.

Your eyes widen at his comment.

Mrs. Kim frowns, slapping Yugyeom on the arm. “No babies until you two get married!”

Yugyeom laughs at his mom and when he sees your mortified face, laughs even harder. You aren’t even sure which part of her sentence to be more flustered about—the fact that his mom just insinuated you two possibly having sex under her roof or that you’ve been dating for less than three months and she was already considering marriage! 

Your skin feels like hot lava and you wonder if you might even hive up from embarrassment. That would be a first.

“Oh, I think we broke her,” his mom chuckles.

“Honey,” Mr. Kim interrupts, resting his hands over Mrs. Kim’s shoulders. “Let’s head to bed and let the young one’s talk.”

He sends you a wink before ushering his wife into their bedroom. When you hear their door shut, you let out a sigh, shoulders slumping. Yugyeom chuckles softly beside you, patting you on the back.

“I told you, you had nothing to worry about,” he says. “My parents love you already. I think they love you more than they love me.”

“Impossible!” you scrunch your nose, but your lips curl up anyways. “This afternoon when I was helping your mom in the kitchen, she kept talking about all the awards you won in high school. Class president, co-president of the dance club, winner of the youth dance competition. How come you never talk about dance? What else are you hiding from me?”

Yugyeom’s eyes crinkle into half moon shapes. “I also won first prize in the science fair in primary school,” he grins, winking at you playfully. “Your man made a pretty mean volcano back in the day.”

“Oh wow, a volcano? That beats the boy I dated for his solar system model,” you joke.

He smirks, putting his arm around you, “Definitely an upgrade, babe.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll ask to see the baby photos,” you tease, leaning into his embrace as you poke his chest.

Yugyeom tilts his head cockily to the side. “Not to brag, but I was a pretty cute baby. Just a warning, but you might fall in love with me.”

You roll your eyes. A little too late for that, you think to yourself, but that is a confession for another day.

“We should probably clean up and head to bed soon,” you smile, pulling away.

“Don’t wanna see Santa?” he teases.

You chuckle, clearing the living room of the abandoned mugs and plates with the exception of one plate of chocolate chip cookies. “I think it’s cute that your mom still keeps out cookies.”

He smiles, helping you empty the dishes into the sink. “Back when we were kids, they’d wake up at midnight and eat the cookies too.”

Lips jutting out, you stare at Yugyeom with big doe eyes, completely endeared. He glances at you before chuckling and slipping on the bright pink dishwashing gloves.

“On the downside, I got bullied for being the only kid in the neighborhood who still believed in Santa,” he adds.

“Aww, poor baby,” you coo, brushing the stray hair out of his eyes. “Tell me their names, I’ll go beat them up for you.”

“Bambam,” he quips making you laugh.

“Sorry, Gyeom, you’re on your own.”

He chuckles. “S’alright, I had my mom fight that battle.”

You let out a deep breath, leaning your elbows on the center island of the kitchen and admire Yugyeom from behind. He’s only in a plain grey t-shirt and matching red plaid pajama pants, and yet, he still looks handsome. Your eyes travel across his broad back. There is the faint hint of his tattoo underneath the thin cotton material.

When you first saw Yugyeom’s back tattoo, you were surprised but also found it very fitting. Black ink bled wings across his shoulder blades. In a way, Yugyeom came into your life like an angel. Your guardian angel, he liked to joke, saving others from your clumsiness. 

You scoff at the memory, making Yugyeom turn to you with narrowed eyes.

“What are you snickering about back there?”

“Nothing!” you squeak, pursing your lips together like a child caught red handed. 

He looks at you for a moment longer before turning back to the dishes, smiling to himself. 

“I was just thinking,” you finally add after a pause. “I really enjoy the relationship you have with your parents.”

You watch his shoulders lift and you imagine he’s smiling. “Yeah, they’re my best friends,” he tells you over the sound of the running faucet.

“I’m jealous,” you confess softly. You assume he doesn’t hear you.

Unlike Yugyeom, you grew up in a strict household. The only memories you have of your biological father were all associated with fear and while you got along with your mother, you weren’t exactly close either. Of course, the two of you loved each other as most families did, but after experiencing a marriage of struggle, as soon as you were of legal age, your mom went off to chase her own freedom. Back in your late teens, this had put a strain in your relationship, but now that you are older, with your perspective matured, you grew to understand your mom and you’re glad that she’s found a happier life of her own.

Now, the two of you can talk openly about the ups and downs of adulthood and womanhood and everything in between.

But this was why you weren’t spending the holidays with your own family. The two of you had decided a few years back that New Year’s would be for family, Christmas is for love and adventure.

You watch as your love and adventure turns off the faucet and shakes the pink gloves off his arms. “Done!” he declares triumphantly, turning to you now.

“Looks like you’re going to make the nice list this year,” you compliment, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins down at you, “How about you sneak into my room and we can both make the naughty list.”

Your eyes widen, feeling your cheeks flush at the thought. Yugyeom laughs, throwing his head back.

“I’m just kidding, don’t have a heart attack!” 

Slapping his chest, you pout. “Let’s go to sleep. I’m going to need the energy to deal with you tomorrow.”

But when your head finally sinks into the fresh sheets Mrs. Kim had prepared for you, sleep never comes. After washing up and saying goodnight to Yugyeom, it was like all the exhaustion washed away too. You are wide awake when the clock hits midnight.

It’s probably because you’re in a new environment. It’s been a while since you last slept in a stranger’s bed. You haven’t even slept at Yugyeom’s place yet! You always go home before it gets too late, or it’s him staying at yours.

Anyways, the nerves of meeting Yugyeom’s family along with the new environment and the thrill of Christmas combined is probably what’s keeping you up.

Sitting up in bed, you decide to fix up a warm drink. That should calm you, right?

Slipping out of bed, you sneak out of your bedroom on tiptoes, twisting the doorknob so slowly one might think you’ve been frozen. One thing about the Kim’s house is how eerily quiet the whole place is. Unlike your apartment where everything seemed to buzz—the fridge, the walls, the ceiling, you name it—this house was cloaked in silence.

It feels like an eternity when you finally get the door open big enough to walk through. Looking both ways in the dark hallway, you make a turn and tiptoe your way into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, you flick the island lights on, casting a dim spotlight at the center of the room. You squint, eyes adjusting to the lights before making your way towards the cabinets.

Helping Mrs. Kim with dinner this evening had paid off. You were already familiar with the kitchen setup.

Plucking a hot chocolate packet between two fingers, you swivel back to the island to boil the water. Pouring the brown powder into a mug, you let out a breath, waiting for the water to boil.

In the open window across from you, you are delighted to find a flurry of white illuminated by the dim light of a single lamppost. The snowflakes fall in fat clumps, as if in slow motion. The quiet realization that you will have a white Christmas after all, brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Hello, Santa,” a sudden voice breaks the silence, making you jump up in a silent shriek.

Standing in the shadows, at the doorway of the kitchen is a very amused Yugyeom, his hands clasped around his mouth to muffle his laughter.

“You scared me!” you whisper yell, one hand on your beating chest.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, not at all sorry, as he walks to your side behind the island. “What are you doing up anyways?”

“Making hot chocolate,” you explain, hands coming to fix at his bed head. “I couldn’t fall asleep. Want one?”

You’re already grabbing another packet from the cabinet before he can answer you.

“I can make you an ice choco,” you smile up at him, eyes forming crescents. They look shinier under the lights. He feels a flutter in his stomach.

Smiling quietly, Yugyeom nods. For a moment, the two of you stand in easy silence. Only the sound of the water boiler can be heard. Yugyeom’s eyes follow where yours are staring and his heart warms. You look so happy, it’s endearing. You must be the only person in this city who hasn’t been jaded from the snowstorms that hit every winter.

Coming from behind, Yugyeom wraps you in his arms, bending to rest his chin in the crook of your shoulder.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers into your ear, gazing out at the falling snow.

“Merry Christmas,” you reply, turning, you hold his face in one palm and press a kiss to his cheek. He squeezes you tighter in his arms.

When the water boiler clicks off, water now hot and bubbling, you move to grab it but Yugyeom holds you tight, pulling you closer to his chest. You giggle softly, tilting your head at him curiously. He answers you with cold fingers sliding underneath your shirt. It sends you shivering all over.

“Yugyeom!” you squeak in surprise, making futile attempts to escape his grasp.

“I know something else we could do to get you sleepy,” he whispers, breath on the shell of your ear.

“Y-your parents are right down the hall!” you stutter, gulping back the whimper that threatens to escape your throat.

Yugyeom licks a stripe up the shell of your ear, “And sleeping.” You can feel his smirk against your ear.

“I-w-we can’t,” you whine, unconvincingly.

“But you want to,” he says matter-of-factly, hands sliding up your skin. You feel him inhale when his palms come around the supple flesh of your breasts. “No bra? You naughty girl.”

Your protests catch in your throat when he begins to knead at your breasts, rolling both nipples between his thumbs. You whimper, head falling back onto his shoulder at the sensation. His fingers brush against the sensitive buds gently, barely there. It makes your knees weak and your core throb with want.

Yugyeom presses himself into your back and you can feel him hard against you. “You don’t know how hard it was for me to control myself today. Do you know how many hard ons I had to hide from my parents?”

You break into a smile, grinding your ass harder into him. “Is that why you were hugging that throw pillow all day?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” Yugyeom warns, pinching you between his thumbs. “I saw the way you were looking at me. I can read you like a book, baby. Bet you’re already wet.”

Yugyeom presses a kiss to your jawline before sucking down your throat. Your breath skips at the fluttering feeling. “G-gyeom, I-I can’t have hickeys.”

He groans softly against you, biting softly at your jugular before letting go. “You don’t get to call the shots, babe.”

The sternness of his voice makes you whimper, which he catches easily with his own lips on yours. Yugyeom kisses you roughly, tongue overpowering yours just the way you like it. When his hand dips down past the waistband of your pajama pants and panties at once, your eyes fall shut, relishing the sudden intrusion.

“Fucking wet,” he smirks, dipping two fingers between your folds. He gathers your slick, spreading it in circles around your sensitive bud. You whimper, knees going weak.

All too soon though, his hand leaves you, making you whine. He holds his fingers up in the light, admiring the glistening web of arousal. As if practiced, you open your mouth for him and he slides his fingers into your mouth. You whimper at the tang of yourself melting on your tongue.

“Tell me you want me,” he mutters, lids heavy as he slides his fingers in and out of your mouth. You run your tongue around his fingers expertly until you’ve licked him clean.

Yugyeom swallows, watching you suck on his fingers and imagines you sucking other things of his. The very thought makes him shiver. Reluctantly, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, letting you speak.

“Please Gyeom,” you whine, breathless. “I want you. Need you inside me already.”

It’s music to his ears and he wants to tease you more, but his patience has already run out. Having spent the better half of this day sporting blue balls, Yugyeom just wants to fuck you senseless.

It catches you by surprise when he slips his thumbs down your waistbands and pulls, leaving your ass bare behind the kitchen island. Before you can even feel embarrassed about the sudden exposure, Yugyeom’s finger are back on you, making you whimper while his other hand makes quick work with his own pants and boxers. His cock springs free, red and throbbing.

“You look so delicious like this,” he whispers into your ear, hands squeezing your ass. Oh, how he would have loved to slap your ass until you were red with his fingerprints. Biting his lips, he pushes his dick between your thighs instead.

“Ooh,” you let out a satisfied sigh, your clit rubbing along the length of his cock. Your thighs are soft and warm around his length, it’s unfair, Yugyeom thinks. Your pussy is weeping with desperation, the arousal drips down, coating his dick so that each time he thrusts between your legs, it is deliciously smooth. Everything about your body is heavenly, like it was made for him.

Already, you’re panting, a thick whine straining in your throat. His hot cock rutting between your thighs just teases at your sensitive bud. Your pussy lips clench around nothing and only succeeds in making the ache in your core more despairing. 

“Gyeom, please,” you breathe out, hands coming up to run through his hair, your fingers thread around his black strands, before pulling into your fists. Yugyeom enjoys the ache in his scalp.

When he pulls his cock away, you almost yell out loud, lips pouting from the lost sensation. He answers you with a smirk, nudging his foot between yours, he forces your legs apart. Your hands grip at the counter for support, fingers pressing down hard when he slides two fingers into you without warning.

Immediately, you bite at your bottom lip, fighting the moan that threatens to escape you as he dips his fingers into you over and over, stretching at your velvety walls. His fingers are long and practiced, finding the rough, spongy patch inside you quickly.

Your eyes squeeze shut, the ghost of a whimper panting from your lips as he curls his fingers, sending shivers straight to your core. Over and over, he does this, until you’re tightening around his digits. All too soon, your knees are buckling, mind going numb from the sensation.

And then, he pulls out of you.

You gasp, eyes opening wide while Yugyeom chuckles darkly. 

Before you can complain, he kisses your temple sweetly. “Not yet, baby,” he whispers soothingly.

You feel Yugyeom stepping closer between your legs and then the head of his cock teases at your entrance, sliding up and down your folds, spreading your slick on him.

You’re about to whine for him to stop teasing when you hear the creak of a door opening. Eyes widening, your heart jumps to your throat when the sound of footsteps shuffling against the floors, echoes like a blaring drum from down the dark hallway.

Your breath hitches when Yugyeom sinks his cock into you slowly. Your palm flies to your mouth, just as he slides all the way in, balls pressed to your ass. He leans into you so that his chest is hard-pressed against your back. You can feel his breath on your skin as his lips press against the nape of your neck.

The door of the bathroom opens and closes.

“Shh,” he mumbles against you, slowly pulling out of you. The friction is so delicious, you can’t help the whimper that muffles against your palm. “Wouldn’t want to get caught with my dick inside you…would you?”

He fucks into you, one hand coming to your throat at the sound of your muffled moan. He squeezes at your throat, softly at first. When he feels the way you clench around his cock, he bites into your shoulder, hiding his groan.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” he whispers into your ear, fingers tapping at your throat. You nod your head eagerly, rutting yourself onto his dick.

He bites at his lip, squeezing around your neck. At the sound of the water faucet running, Yugyeom ruts into you hard, his free hand coming to rub circles around your clit. You pant, breath constricting and eyes rolling. You love the way he fills you entirely. His slow thrusts hit you deep every time, keeping you at the edge of euphoria.

When the bathroom door opens, Yugyeom’s fingers rub at your bud even faster, sending your heart facing and electric currents straight to your core. You’re so close, it hurts. Tears brim at the corner of your eyes, your voice threatening to break as your ears strain to hear the footsteps coming closer.

You can feel your vein pulsing against your forehead as Yugyeom continues to thrust his cock into your sopping hole, sliding deep into your cunt.

The door of his parents’ bedroom squeaks like slow motion. Please, please go back to bed. Shut the door. All you can hear is your heart pounding in your own ear and Yugyeom’s stifled breathing. 

And then you hear the click.

Yugyeom lets go of your throat to hold the edge of the counter instead and the air that invades your lungs while he fucks into you hard send you off the edge.

“Mmmmm,” a strained moan escapes your throat as you collapse onto the island, body jerking as your orgasm hits you in waves. Yugyeom continues his ministrations on your clit, his own balls straining at the way your pussy pulses around him, impossibly tight.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, rocking himself into you as you slowly come down from your high. He caresses your throat lovingly, placing soft kisses to your jawline until he’s spilling into you with a quiet groan.

You shiver, his moan tickling the shell of your ear as your pussy pulsed around his cock, sucking up each hot spurt of cum that shot into you.

“God,” he sighs, sweaty forehead pressing into your shoulder. He all but collapses on you. “I love you so much.”

Both you and Yugyeom freeze. His softened cock slips out of you and he rushes to help clean the cum that drips out of your pussy. Stumbling, Yugyeom haphazardly pulls the band of his pants back up while grabbing a towel from behind him.

You barely even notice the stickiness that drips down your thigh as Yugyeom wipes the damp towel across your skin. Instead, you stare down at his fluffy hair, a smile stretching across your face.

“Gyeom,” you say softly as he fixes your pants back up, still refusing to look at you. Your fingers thread through his hair softly, “Gyeom.”

When he tilts his head up, he looks so worried. You feel your heart squeeze.

“Gyeom,” you smile softly, helping him back up to his feet. “I love you too.”

He blinks like he’s heard you wrong. “You love me too?”

You nod, giggling now. “I do. A lot.”

Yugyeom pulls you into a kiss.

“You love me!” he repeats against your lips and then he is kissing you again until you are both giggling against each other.

#got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 imagines #kim yugyeom #got7 smut #fluff #christmas au #holiday au #fanfic #writing #got7 series #le chocolatier series

[lovemeafterhrs]

come over when ur sober | s. rintarou

epilogue: your favorite dress

by the time they finally descended down the stairs, the sun had long set over the horizon. the frigid air had returned, chilling them to the bone as soon as the door opened. fog had begun to roll in around them, coating the pavement with fluffy white clouds as the street lights flickered on. 

“fuck, it’s cold out here.” she shivered, running her hands over her arms as he came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. “what are you doing? it’s freezing and i wanna get inside-” wordlessly, he draped his jacket over her shoulders and continued walking, ignoring her wide eyes as she picked up her pace to catch up with him. “aren’t you gonna get cold?”

“the walk isn’t that far. besides, you looked like you needed it more. you’re shaking like a chihuahua-” she scoffed at his reply, jaw dropped open as she hit his arm softly.

“hey, don’t be a dick!” 

“i was just trying to be nice!” he squeaked, raising his arms in defense as she broke out into a fit of laughter. 

“come on, let’s get back to the dorms before it starts raining.” she rolled her eyes, grabbing his hand as she broke out into a sprint. the sky had already started sprinkling, casting the night in a misty haze as they ran through the city streets hand in hand. by the time the light drizzle turned into a downpour, they were less than a block away from the dormitories. 

so close, yet so far.

his jacket was completely soaked, leaving her shivering once again as he pulled her underneath the roof of a nearby building, shielding them from the rain as they took a moment to gather themselves. they were laughing now, mocking each other's ruined hairdos as they huddled together under the safety of the building they recognized as an open candy store. 

“hey.. do you think it’s warm in there?” he asked warily, eyeing the attendant that was currently staring at them through the window. “the lady in there is totally freaking me out but i’m fucking freezing.” 

“come on, you big baby. if you behave, i might let you get something.” she grinned, swinging open the door as he stifled a laugh behind her. 

“welcome! just let me know if you need anything.” the girl at the counter didn’t look much older than the pair, and her eyes followed them around as they wandered through the store, never leaving each other's sides as she stared at them with a puzzled look. she knew she recognized them from somewhere, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. so instead she kept silent, observing their mannerisms as she came to the decision that it definitely couldn’t be who she thought it was. ‘as if they’d show up at a candy shop in tokyo hand in hand.. seriously, what is she thinking? hyogo’s six hours away, and she hasn’t seen them since highschool. last time she checked, they hated each other’s guts-’

as they approached the counter, the short girl next to suna sent her a confused look, and after a moment, a lightbulb went off in her head as she placed her sweets on the counter. “kanemoto?” she inquired, and the girl broke from her stupor as her eyes nearly bulged out of her skull. 

“o-oh! i’m so sorry, i was in a daze- wait.. what are you doing here?”

“it’s cold and i wanted gummy bears.” suna grumbled, sneaking a free sample off the counter. 

“we were on our way back to the dorms and it started raining, so we ended up here. how have you been?” she asked, watching the dark haired girl ring up the total as suna offered his card, only to be declined by the girl as she shook her head at him. “you can pay next time.” she grinned back at him, and junya’s shocked demeanor did not go unnoticed as he returned her sweet smile with one ten times sweeter. 

“whoa.. did i miss something?” junya inquired, and the couple’s eyes moved from her to each other as suna offered a shrug. 

“nothing much.” she laughed, suna’s jacket much too big for her small body as she attempted to zip it up. “now we have to go back into the cold. such a shame, but it was nice seeing you! don’t be a stranger!” the couple waved goodbye to the confused girl, who was still trying to process information that was clearly lacking context. 

as they went out the door and left her sight, junya reached for her phone with wide eyes as she tried to piece together all the details at once. “oh my god.. i have to tell atsumu-”

“it’s still raining.” she frowned, hiding her hair with her hands as she moved closer to suna. ”my dorm is closer, do you just want to stop there?” 

“are you.. inviting me inside right now?” he teased, and she rolled her eyes as they turned the corner, the dorms in eyesight as he wrapped an arm around her waist under the jacket.

“oh, right. you don’t go through doors like a normal person, i forgot.” pulling open the door to the dorms, they were greeted with a blast of warm air and the absence of a person at the check in desk as they quickly shuffled inside. her dorm wasn’t far from the entrance, and she shuffled for her keys in her pockets only to find that they were in fact, not there.

“hey, i use doors. your door is just stupid and atsumu asks questions if i leave so it’s just easier-” his words trailed off as she stopped in her tracks, double checking ever pocket as panic washed over her.

“shit, i don’t have my keys.” she sighed, and her attempts to pull open the door were foiled by the deadbolted lock on the other side of the door. she huffed and turned towards her companion. “got any ideas?”

“i might, but we have to go back outside.” a cheshire smirk played on his features as she groaned, but agreed anyway. 

here they were, back in the chilly air of the night as she attempted to pull open her window from the opposite side of the glass. “god, i can’t believe we’re breaking into my own dorm room.” she sighed, popping the glass out of place just enough to make a space to get through. 

“through the window, too. how full circle is that?” he mocked, and she scoffed at him for the umpteenth time that night. 

“shut the fuck up. if you get mud on my floor i’ll kill you with my bare hands-”

“you’re taking too long. i’ll go first so i can catch you if you fall.” admittedly, he had a lot of practice crawling through that window in particular, and it was a steeper fall than originally anticipated. she’d laughed in his face when he fell the first time, but he wanted to spare her the humiliation as he hoisted himself up and through the window pane. 

“i’m not going to fall.” she’d replied, balancing herself between the window and a nearby bush. it was just so very unfortunate that she’d spoken too soon, almost tripping flat on her face as her muddy shoes lost balance on the way down. suddenly thankful for suna’s position in front of her, interrupting the untying of his shoes as his hands fell in front of him to catch her. his hands found her waist as he hoisted her up with only one shoe on, ignoring the mud all over the wood flooring. he was more focused on the way her eyes glittered in the moonlight, pupils blown out as his eyes shifted down to her lips. 

“i told you that you’d fall.” he stated, his voice low and husky in her ears as she sank into his touch. 

“shut up, rintarou.”

“why don’t you make me?” and unsurprisingly, she did. his lips tasted like those same cotton candy clouds from the rooftop, partially at fault of the packaged fluffy treats they’d shared on their way home. he felt like home. 

they stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms as suna’s phone buzzed from the table. probably the miya twins asking where he was. he pondered, but he had no care in the world as he pulled her onto the couch with him. 

he’d probably remember that day forever, on replay like a movie in his mind whenever he watched the sky turn a pale shade of pink. he’d remember the way she looked at him, eyes bright as she pecked kisses all over his face.

suna rintarou from highschool would’ve thought he was crazy, falling for the same girl he used to push into the dirt. but honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

masterlist:

taglist: @skomiomi @elianetsantana @dae-kirei @koushiskitten @sredamancy @inarizakiu @paripedia @alienvarmint @4kaashl @witcherydotcom @dreamstormings @sapphicstarss @atsunakaashi @words-in-air @laughingismorefun @heyitzwolf520 @iminlovewhaikyuu @melodiamore @peteunderoos @my-love-for-you-is-missing @anngelllla @kathya420 @youngestdelacour @lgbtq-haikyuu @momoinot @indecisivehusky @moonlightsof @02hhsailor @sakusarights @crybabbicus @rintaoreo @colorseeingchick @peganimeboys @sunakissses @keisunaa

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #suna smau #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou #cowys <3

[zodiac-monkey]

HELLOOOOOO!!! ;;W;; some time ago i received a PRECIOUS TREASURE BOX from @furubazine!!!!!

it’s PINK and has beautiful pictures on the cover inside of cute little riceball shapes!!!! 🍙🍙🍙🍙 it has a gentle, thankful feeling to look at, like looking into a window on all the seasons and the warm scenes of friendship and family--the words printed on simple, solid white feel so solemn and grateful all at once T--T i can’t stress enough that the presentation of this zine is GORGEOUS, everything is so carefully and beautifully packaged that i really feel like every item is a precious treasure that is looked after with loving care..!! \;;A;;/

SADLY THERE WAS TAPE ON THIS PART OF THE BOX and even though i was trying to handle it very carefully i am terribly clumsy and bad with boxes and accidentally injured this poor box!!! ;;A;; I AM SORRY!!!!! I WILL APOLOGIZE TO THIS BOX!!!!!! I WILL APOLOGIZE TO THE WORLD!!!!!!! m(__  __)m

look at this gorgeous collection of treasures!!! ;;w;; i feel like there should be sparkles flowing out as i open this, everything is so carefully and charmingly arranged and feels so cozy together!!! TwT

BEAUTIFUL RAT YUKI SAYING SUKI DESU IS SENDING ME OMG IM CRYING;;;; WHAT A GORGEOUS PIN WHAT A GORGEOUS BABY;;;;; ALL THE MERCH IS PRECIOUS WHAT A BEAUTIFUL ZINE AHHHHH;;;; \T/////T/

they sent me this beautiful thank-you note with a tiny adorable furuba trio on it!!! the lettering is so gorgeous and fancyyyy!! \;;A;;/ thank YOU for letting me be a part of this incredibly special and heartfelt project!!! >////< i really really enjoyed working on it, everyone was so nice and relaxed and supportive of each other--it’s an absolute joy and honor!!!!! T////T

THEY EVEN WROTE ME A LITTLE SPECIAL NOTE IN THEIR OWN HANDWRITING!!!!! \;;A;;/ IM CRYING WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS OMG???? they are the ones who are kind people!!!! T////T thank YOU so much for your hard work putting together so many beautiful treasure boxes for all of us!! ;;A;; they said nice things about my picture that’s sooo sweet im so happy they thought it was pretty!!!! >////<

also they even told me not to be embarrassed about what i love!!! /)/////(\ wahhhhh!!!! it even has a little heart too!! i suppose this is because i said something in the discord server about feeling embarrassed for drawing cross-dressing all the time ;;A;; this is so extremely thoughtful and considerate of them to remember!!!! thank you so much for such kindness please take all of these hearts too!!!! />/////</💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

the zine itself is gorgeous!! the cover art by lluluchwan feels so peaceful and warm--i love how the light falls on them through the sunlit flowers, so restful and bright, and tohru’s smile fills my heart with warmth and gratitude!! ;;w;;

the merch comes in these precious little cherry blossom pouches and the postcards even come in a package with a window to see how beautiful they are!! it’s like a little sleeping bag just their size!! ;;w;;

i LOVE this foil postcard by @magesup​ it’s SO gorgeous?? everyone crossing the bridge together with the blooming cherry blossoms is so precious, like everyone is moving together towards happiness!! ;;w;;

akito is leading the march and kyo and tohru at the back look so happy together, momiji’s energy is so precious (even if kisa seems a little shy or surprised by it), ayame being extra and hatori putting up with it as usual, shigure probably making some joke to kureno and kagura full of energy as usual, rin is leaning over the bridge away from the others--she and hiro look a little aloof about everyone’s commotion--but yuki looks so lively and engaged talking with haru, and even ritsu seems calm and at peace! (RITSUUUUU!!!!!!! IM SO HAPPY TO SEE RITCHAN HERE!!! \;;U;;/)

everyone is so beautiful and their personalities really shine!!! AND LOOK HOW THE BRIDGE IS SHINING GOLD!!!! i had no idea it would be like that, it’s so beautiful!!!! \TwT/

OMG LOOK HOW THE FOIL PICTURE FRAMES SHINE!!!! \;;O;;/ i LOVE how this work by AmySunHee showcases so many of the characters and moments of the series, with tohru clasping her hands in front of them all like every one is precious to her!! the gold really makes it feel like each one is a treasure!! ;;O;;

BABY TOHRU WITH HER PARENTS MY HEART!!!! T---T EVEN THE LITTLE GRANDPA AT TOHRU’S ELBOW and even akito is close to tohru, she cares no matter what ;A; momiji looks so peaceful playing his violin, the little flowers!! kagura glomping kyo, his expression is CLASSIC, haru and rin together look picture perfect sitting back to back, and kisa and hiro match perfectly in their outfits!! hana and uo and the student council, the mabudachi trio and mine showing off ayame--even the yuki fanclub is there AND OMG THAT PHOTO OF KYO AND YUKI HATORI TOOK,, THEY JUST HAD TO FRAME THAT.. he even got their question marks in the photo sfhsgdhg AND RITSU IS THERE IM SO HAPPY in classic form i love the expression!! the ornate detailing on all the frames is gorgeous!!! T////T i love the exquisite patterns so carefully carved into them!!

THE CHARMS HAVE LITTLE CAT RINGS HOW CUTE IS THAT?!!! >/////< each charm is like looking in on a little scene, i love them!! the kyo and yuki buttons by lulu are just gorgeously soft and precious, and i love the motion in the petals and leaves in the buttons by hackwolfin, i can feel the different moods and seasons in each one, from cheerful to melancholy ;;A;; AND kyo sleeping with tiny riceball and rat yuki on the enamel pin--AGAIN HOW CUTE IS THIS!!! T////T HOW CAN ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING BE SO PRECIOUS!!!! \;;A;;/

EVERYTHING IS SO SWEET AND BEAUTIFUL IM CRYING???!!! the die-cut stickers by samairu are so gorgeously detailed and smooth, i love how close and cozy the characters look framed in the circle windows, and the rich colors really make me feel the bright spring day and deep autumn night!

the school defense force stickers by sleepy-crayonn are so expressive, i love how each character portrait shows their personalities matched with a season, and the hilarious mini reaction images?! XD the little festival stickers by dewream are sooo precious everyone is so soft and cute and tiny!!! >////< (TRUE TO HIS NATURE KYO CAUGHT A FISH) tohru is so happy and i love how gracefully yuki holds that fan!!

this postcard by @lumiiki​ is just SHEER JOY AND BRIGHTNESS everyone so happy together on a sunny day, the boys looking on contentedly at tohru with her arms full of flowers as she just radiates happiness!! i love the detail in her flowers and straw hat, the strong shading makes it feel like the sun is really really bright!! TuT

@vitaminpop​‘s art style is so ABSOLUTELY PRECIOUS i treasure these tiny little furuba cards so much???? everyone is SO SOFT i love the light inner outlines and highlights around the edges, tohru here with a big smile and flowers for everyone, yuki with this sweet little smile so tenderly holding the fresh strawberries he put so much work into growing himself, covered in dirt still from tending them but radiating this soft joy from the care he’s poured in T---T kyo so casually eating his food his big unconcerned eyes are so precious, shigure just taking his hat off like he’s come in from the cold, his smile is so soft;;

im blessed with all of these treasures omg!!! \T////T/

WAHHHH im so honored that my picture was put right next to the page for autumn?? \;;A;;/ thank you so much im sooo happy!! it looks so light and soft next to the soft leaves falling on the title page!! ;;/////;;

(of course looking at it in print im filled with thoughts like “maybe i should have left in more of the white border” and “i seem to have forgotten again that my monitor shows colors as more pink than they really are” BUT DONT WE ALL....)

THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN for letting me be a part of this project, it’s so absolutely beautiful and heartfelt and im so thrilled and honored that i could contribute!!! >/////< thank you soooo much!!!! \;;W;;/

#fruits basket #furuba #furuba zine #my art #i can post the full picture now so i will try to do that soon! ajvhsghd #ive been delaying for months bc i have to open it again and put my signature on it and it will take less than 5 minutes

[juniaships]

Me thinking Xiaolin Chronicles was gonna be good from the trailer then I watch the actual show:

Sighs* Where do I even BEGIN???

Xiaolin Showdown is a huge comfort cartoon for me so to see it be utterly RUINED by the poorly executed sequel? Reboot? I don't know all i do know is its very existence left me feeling colder than Heylin Power Tsunami Waterblade Ice!

So what do I find wrong about XC? PLENTY!!!

Clay is even more in the background than the original

He has a weird goat fetish and lacks a personality (he was smart, wellmannered, down to earth but now he's just in the background)

Also his sister got replaced by a twin brother who is a lame Cow based superhero

Tomoko (Kimiko's sister) may be a spy but it's pretty clear she's a Mary Sue hate that term but it's appropriate here

Ping Pong's design is so lazy like he's literally Omi but smaller and with glasses and casual clothes slapped on

Ping Pong barely has any flaws or quirks other than a really long french name and being super hyper

His element [Wood] is the closest we'll ever have to a Dragon of Nature but he NEVER USES IT!!!

Even his signature Wu (which is a peach which is kinda lame) doesn't have any abilities that can be exploited in any useful way

Face it he's not a member of the team he's Omi's sidekick and tbe last thing Omi needs is a sidekick

We could have had another badass female character with a unique personality to add to the team & see new elements like Metal or Aether, but no we get an Omi Clone

No acknowledgement of Jermaine; who was built up to become the fifth member of the team (rest in memory Lee Thompson Young 😔)

Dojo is creepily obsessed with Master Fung his entire personality is just crying over Fung

Also the way zits grow all over his body to alert the discovery of Shen Gong Wu is disgusting af

He's yellow now (which is actually accurate to common depictions of eastern dragons) but the green made him so iconic 😔

Kimiko is now The Girl Monk; barely has her temper&sass; also she no longer switches outfits nor seem to be the tech expert

Poor Raimundo he didn't deserve this

He's no longer the leader because everyone is Shoku now depriving him of a potential growth

That episode with Salavdor Cumo helped to establish the criminal as a foil & personal enemy for Rai...

So you'd think he and Cumo fight at the end right?

WRONG!!! It's Omi that gets to fight Cumo; erasing any chance of Raimundo showing his growth

You're going to see a LOT of that with Omi

Now we get to the Tron suits call it nitpicking but idc at this point

O-KAY so the suits, where do I began?

The show doesn't clarify if the suits are the result of a new aspect of a reboot or the result of the new rank

Speaking of which the very narrative flips back&forth on whether it's a reboot or a direct sequel

Wuya's backstory was changed and now she's back in spirit form??

The CGI is unnecessary I would forgive if it took place inside a computer but no they change art&animation style

The suits themselves don't look bad but if I'm gonna be honest here their Wudai Orion forms were a lot stronger

The colors is what I have to pick apart so bear with me:

Now, Clay's orange suit kinda makes sense since it puts into mind literal clay soil & magma (molten earth)

But wasn't green his signature color? Well they gave it to Ping Pong instead

Which also makes sense given green represents life, leaves, grass, fruits etc

Kimiko should NOT have worn a pink suit that only makes her look even more of a token & her color was red for fire

Omi should've worn white (the latter because that was his wudai) but now he's wearing blue; at least it's an aqua blue

Raimundo's suit is a dark blue even though his colors were light blue and/or teal

Omi spends the show acting worse than he was in the original yet gets rewarded by the narrative

Kimiko's arc of becoming the first Dragon Rider in centuries gets overtaken by Omi because it's HIS connection that ends up saving the day

Ignoring all of Kimiko's hard work, way to pull the rug out under her 😒

New characters like Rocco and Princess Laila are introduced yet barely explained or given more time to develop

The monks' arc of finding a new temple is easily resolved in like, one or two episodes

I get the name change due to greedy WB but the names make no sense (saving thus part for another time)

Also the monks have to use wu to access their element even though in the og they could use them without the use of wu due to growth in rank&power

So yeah they had major downgrade in power

Shadow and Chase has a really gross in----t subtext

Chase is no longer the charismatic mysterious warrior but an obnoxious Pretty Boy who always has to insert himself into showdowns (basically they use him too much)

Shadow - everything about her personality reeks of try hard wannabe Sexy Villain

His redesigned dragon form is kinda bad

Jack's new outfit isn't as memorable as his OG one

Also his new voice doesn't really fit

Okay that's about it I have more to write but trying to decipher every flaw in this terrible travesty would be way too long

#anti xiaolin chronicles #xiaolin showdown #bad writing #they wasted a perfectly good plot #they wasted a perfectly good character #cartoons #animation #reboots #sequels #feel free to add on #venting