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#also indoor brick!
varshnarsh · 8 months ago
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https://www.instagram.com/p/CG_EA5ngODl/?igshid=1nugck0mpl3gt
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pestexterminatorsampm · a month ago
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Little black ants like to dwell in wooded areas, most notably in decaying wood or in sidewalk cracks. In yards, they build their nests under rocks, in rotting logs, and under piles of bricks or lumber. While they prefer to live outdoors, little black ants can build their nests indoors under the right conditions.
Ants are social animals and live in colonies with hundreds, or even millions, of others. They have tiny brains  in many cases smaller than a grain of sand. So how are they so clever at getting into our homes and finding our food? Because they are masters of cooperation.
Consider the way some ants march in a line towards that drop of honey on your kitchen bench. When worker ants of some species find a tasty piece of food, they respond by placing a tiny droplet of pheromone on the ground. They continue to leave a trail of pheromones all the way back to the nest.
Only one ant needs to find the food and lay a trail. Once that happens, hundreds of others can follow the trail to the food source.
Their nests have been located in the homes of homeowners usually in woodwork, wall voids, decaying wood, masonry, and behind facades. They can also be found in kitchen areas and wherever they can find food sources.
Extermination inspection outdoors. Inspect any decaying or rotting wood in your yard. Inspect Raised bed gardens, tool sheds, gazebos, lumber, and woodpiles, tree stumps, along pavements or sidewalks, under rocks, moisture barriers like pavers, fences, yard debris. Indoors inspect wall voids, under sinks plumbing, holes in walls, behind decaying wood, behind masonry, and in house kitchens or bathrooms.
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taesinferno · 3 months ago
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>> DILF!JK
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summary daddy's not blonde anymore, they're on family vacation, and he wears obnoxious shirts and gets matching ones for the whole family
pairing -> dilf!jk × mom!reader
genre -> domestic, family, mentions of smut (18+)
a/n -> couple people had requested this bricks ago but muster jk finally made it happen. enjoy 😚
series m.list
<- prev
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"Everybody say 'cheese!'" A chorus followed as the photographer clicked the picture. You were stood in front of a photowall, name of the resort behind you, with Jungkook and your kids. Oh, and you were all wearing obnoxiously matching patterns, courtesy of your overexcited vacation husband.
"Alright, where to next?" He was practically buzzing, bouncing with excitement. "Do we wanna go play with the dolphins in the aquatic tank? Or hit the beach and build sandcastles? Oh! They have an indoor water park too!"
Seungwan, who was being held by daddy, was unimpressed with the list he just teetered off, and was more engaged in the chain daddy was wearing, mouthing on it.
Ji-ah, on the other hand, got her vacation enthusiasm from him, screaming "ALL THREE!!" before looping hands with Jungkook and tugging him towards the aquatic tank first.
Seungwan was passed to you as you followed, who suddenly put up a fit when he was detached from Jungkook's necklace. He prepared himself for a nice big scream, but as soon as he saw you waving his teether in his face, he settled back down, grabbing the toy with his grubby hands.
Seungwan was much too preoccupied to be dazzled by the dolphins, unlike his father and sister, who clapped obnoxiously every time they did a trick. Jungkook even took Ji-Ah down by the tank after the show, working his charm on the dolpin trainor to get Ji-Ah a closer look.
By the time you all had reached the beach, you could tell your plans for the indoor water park would have to be pushed until tomorrow. Ji-Ah had a lot of energy, running into the water with Jungkook and engaging in a splash battle, and running back and forth to make a mega-sandcastle (as Jungkook called it).
But that was an hour ago. Now, she was lounging peacefully by your side, eyes closed on the verge of falling asleep. "Im tanning, mom," she'd told you with a roll of her eyes when you'd asked her if she wanted to take a nap. A phrase she'd probably heard on some television show, which she didn't really know the meaning of, because her natural complexion... didn't exactly need tanning.
"I don't think we can do the water park today," Jungkook plopped down beside you with a pout. "I know, sweetie, we'll do it tomorrow." You patted his cheek while keeping your eyes on Seungwan playing in the sand.
"You look hot," he blurted out bluntly, smirk growing on his face as he ran his eyes down your bikini-clad body. You rolled your eyes. "Let me help cool you down."
You felt a sudden cold sensation pressed against the side of your neck, paired with Jungkook's tongue. You yelped and pushed him away, "Why is your mouth so cold??"
He grinned and stuck his tongue out to reveal its red color from the strawberry daiquiri he was drinking. Of course.
"Let me cool you down, baby," he leaned in close to your ear, "My baby mama. So sexy. Everyone here can see it."
"I'm not your baby mama, I'm your wife," you snorted, shoving him away. But that didn't deter him.
"Remember when you wore red like this on our honeymoon? Spent the entire day in bed," he recounted, tugging at your bikini straps, "Neighbors got so tired of us. But how could I stop, when you kept moaning my name and scratching me up like that? Had the marks for bricks after."
You remembered. You remembered very well. Not only were you newly married, but you had also finished law school, and Jungkook had recieved a fat check that would be recurrent for a while after. It was a cause for celebration. And if you're celebration came in the form of raw animal sex, well then so be it!
"Keep it in your pants, Jeon. We've got company." You nodded over to Ji-Ah, who was nodding awake from her mini-nap, Seungwan's babbling waking her up.
"Ready to go kiddo?" You asked her as you scooped up Seungwan while Jungkook started to pack things up. She gave you a sleepy nod, having changed her mind about a nap now after getting a taste of the benefits. Seungwan's babble continued loudly, animatedly cheering on his father as Jungkook lifted the beach umbrella up onto his shoulders.
"Daddy looks good, doesn't he?" You said to Seungwan, oogling at your man. You and Jungkook thought Seungwan was close to speaking soon, and your parenting books had told you that speaking to him directly in full words rather than baby talk would help him get there. So you tried to speak to your baby as much as possible. What you didn't expect was him to pick up words you'd never said in his earshot. At least, you thought you hadn't said in his earshot.
"Se-zzy," Seungwan blurted out, pointing to Jungkook. Your eyes shot wide open as Jungkook whipped his head around, almost dropping the carefully curated items in his arms.
"What did you say, Seungwan?" You asked, shocked beyond comprehension.
"Se-zzy!!" He repeated nonchalantly, not knowing what all the fuss was about as he returned his attention to his teether.
"Our baby's first words—" you sputtered as Jungkook clapped at his son's first time speaking.
"I didn't catch it on camera! Say it again, Seungwan!" Jungkook encouraged, dropping his things to pull out his phone excitedly. You didn't know whether to celebrate or scold him. But it wasn't your poor baby's fault. We all know who's vocabulary that word was a part of. And Jungkook was a bit careless with the way he talked to you in front of the kids. But despite all that, nothing could wipe the smile off your face at your baby's first words.
"That's only for mommy and daddy to say," Ji-Ah did the scolding for you, opting to teaching Seungwan other words instead. "Say Ji-Ah. C'mon, say Ji-Ah."
Ji-Ah was right. But Seungwan was his father's son, alright.
"Se-zzy!"
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>> click here to be tagged!
Copyright © 2021, taesinferno | tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc.
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theramseyloft · 4 months ago
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Any German Followers?
On behalf of a resident of the House/Therapy pigeon Discord Server:
I'm searching for a new home for Jarle, since I'm unable to give her the care she needs. 
Jarle is my female pet pigeon, she loves to spend time with people and loves taking baths. She's very sweet and loves to give kisses but she also enjoys a good play-fight! 
Since Jarle is a pet pigeon, I would preferably give her away to someone who wants to keep her has a pet, indoors together with other pigeons or alone. I do not know her temperament when it comes to other pigeons. 
She is a child of a feral pigeon, therefore I'm not sure it she would find back home if you let her fly. 
 She will not be given away for breeding. Since I want to find the best owner for her, I will look at applicants closely and see if they fit her needs. 
 I will also bring her food, bowls, cuddle caves, pillows, her brick and everything else that belongs to her if wanted. 
 We are living in 99867 Gotha in Germany. There is a possibility to bring her near cologne/Köln in Germany at the 06.06.2021
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Any one in the area who is interestes in adopting Jarle can PM me an email or other contact that I can send along to her owner.
Thank you.
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tobesolonely · 5 months ago
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house hunting
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A/n: hello!! I’ve been having a mad case of writers block, so @goldenbluesuit​‘s list of prompts was posted just in time! Thank you and i hope you all enjoy!! thank u @harryysstyless​ and @nationalharryleague​ for looking this over also :) Love u guyssss!
summary: newly engaged y/n and harry realize they have very different tastes in homes when they begin house hunting!!!
warnings: smut
word count: ~3.3k
my ko-fi! thank you :)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
With all the joys that came with being engaged, there was a good deal of logistics that you hadn’t even thought of when you excitedly told Harry, “Duh, of course, I’ll marry you!” just four short months ago. Should you wed in the fall or wait until the spring? Outdoors or indoors? These were things that you and Harry went back and forth about most nights, cuddled in bed next to each other before drifting off to sleep.
Something you were most excited about, though, was finally owning a home with Harry. You practically lived together as it was, seeing that you were at his place most nights. Still, his home wasn’t yours—you were reminded every time you had to grab something forgotten from your apartment. Or when he was away for work and you couldn’t bear to be in his large, empty house by yourself.
So while you already knew each other’s grossest habits, (Harry loved asking you to pop his back pimples) you didn’t yet own a home together. Sadly, house hunting was turning out to be a less-than-joyous task when you and Harry were looking for completely different things.
“I jus’ think we’re cottage-style people… that’s all,'' your fiancé’s hand rests on your thigh while you wait in his car for the real estate agent to arrive. “This one’s nice, yeah, but is it who we are?”
You refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because they remind you of home.”
“So? They’re lovely,” he sounds a little defensive, but not mad. Your response  to Harry is interrupted as the real estate agent pulls into the driveway.
“Be nice,” you remind him as you open your door to let yourself out. “I understand the Craftsman isn’t your first choice, but she worked hard to find this place for us. At least go into it with an open mind.”
Your fiancé mutters something under his breath, but you know he’ll behave himself––he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Harry’s demeanor immediately changes once the real estate agent is within earshot, turning on his signature English charm. “Thank you for meeting my fiancée and me today. We’re both very excited to check out this lovely home.”
Since you’re privy to the reality of the situation, you can tell he’s laying it on a bit thick, but your agent is loving it. “You’ll both fall in love, I know it,” she begins her ascent up the long driveway and you and Harry follow behind hand-in-hand. “Six bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and nearly twenty thousand square feet. You can’t beat it.”
Harry seems unphased by the enormous size of the house, but your breath hitches in your throat. Did the two of you actually need this much room? The house appeared to be even bigger than the one Harry owned now––you knew you would hate staying here when he was away for work except this time, you wouldn’t have a quaint apartment and a roommate to go back to when you were feeling lonely.
“H, ‘s kinda big…” you’re trying to speak quietly enough so the real estate agent doesn’t hear you. “I don’t know if I like it.”
“What’s tha’? We haven’t even gotten inside, love,” Harry stops walking to give you his full attention. “You don’t like it?”
“Just the driveway by itself is enormous,” you feel your cheeks growing warm. “I would be too scared to stay here by myself.”
Harry hums in agreement. “Can we have just a moment, please?” He sweetly turns to face the real estate agent who insists you take your time, walking farther up the driveway to give the two of you privacy.
“We’ve not seen the inside, doll. Gotta at least do that,” Harry’s hands run along your bare arms. “‘Member what you jus’ told me? Let’s go into it with an open mind. Don’t have to place an offer on it or anything.”
“Okay…” you’re reluctant and Harry can tell, but neither one of you want to be rude to the real estate agent. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to just check it out.”
Harry gives you a dimpled grin. “Y’never know. Might fall in love with it, puppy,” Harry leans in so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. “Besides, think of all the rooms we’d get to have a shag in if we moved in here.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
“I hate it.”
“What’s there to hate? Look at how cozy it is.”
“Don’t like the color.”
“It’s nothing to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outside.”
You open your mouth and then close it in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. You let Harry lead you around the perimeter of the house while you wait for your real estate agent to arrive to let you in—Harry’s animatedly talking about all the renovations that can be done to upgrade the house (even stating he could do some of them himself) and deep down you know this is the house you will end up living in. 
“So sorry I’m late,” the agent’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “There was an accident on the 405–made traffic a nightmare.” 
“No worries at all,” Harry says cheerily. “We’re just excited to get inside and take a look at this place. It’s gorgeous.” 
The lady doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really? I agree that it’s a beautiful home, but I thought it would be your last choice given it’s on the smaller side.” 
“How many bedrooms?” You change the subject,  gazing at the house in front of you. You thought it was rather large, but to each their own. 
“Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”
You glance over at your fiancé, who appeared to be deep in thought—he was most likely calculating if five bedrooms would be enough to host friends and family who came to visit. 
“That’s perfect,” he says after a moment, squeezing your hand in excitement. “We’d love to get inside.” 
The real estate agent mutters a quiet, “please, follow me” to which you and Harry oblige. She leads you up a gorgeous cobblestone pathway that ends at weathered brick stairs. Harry lightly placed his hands on your waist as you ascended the three steps, knowing you tended to be on the clumsy side. 
“Porch is nice, innit?” Harry says to you, lowering his gaze so he’s looking square in your eyes. “I can see us ‘avin a cup of coffee in the mornin’ while lookin’ out at the street.”
Your husband-to-be was trying to sell you on the home more than your real estate agent was––you weren’t mad at it. You simply hum in agreement, not wanting to fully give into Harry just yet.
The real estate agent unlocks the door and ushers the both of you ahead of her, wiping her feet on the mat before entering the home. It was beautiful. The floor plan was open, the living room flowing easily into the kitchen which led into the dining room. Large windows let in plenty of natural sunlight, which you know Harry appreciated. 
You listen attentively as the real estate agent gives her typical spiel, informing you about the history of the house (and how all the wood fixtures were original). Harry is long gone, tucked away in some other part of the house, most likely examining the crown molding or something of the sort.
“...because the floor plan is so open, it’s the perfect space for entertaining.”
“So true,” you respond politely, looking around the space. “I was just thinking that. I’m sure Harry would agree... wherever he ran off to.”
“He’s a fan of this one, I take it?” She’s walking again, leading you to the back of the house.
“Oh, definitely. He’s been telling me we’re “cottage people” to warm me up to the idea of moving in here.”
“Is it working?”
You let out a quiet giggle. “Surprisingly, yes.”
“Babe, come look at this bedroom. S’gonna be ours!” Harry calls out to you from deeper in the house and you furrow your brows as you try to determine what room he ducked into.
“Where are you, love?” 
“‘M in here!”
You roll your eyes at how Harry did nothing to clarify his exact location for you, but you quickly figure it out, anyway. While the house was large, it was nowhere as big as some places you’ve already looked at which you appreciated.
Once reunited with Harry, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. The bedroom you’re now standing in has floor-to-ceiling windows, an adjoining bathroom, and even a fireplace. It was stunning.
“This room is nice,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. Harry nods.
“S’our room. Can’t you just picture us sleepin’ in here? Relaxin’?” He leans in close to your ear. “Fuckin’?”
A shiver immediately runs through your body at your fiancé’s vulgarity, but you try your best to play off your reaction as you turn to face the real estate agent. “Let’s see the rest of the place, yeah?”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
No one warned you about how much work went into actually closing on a home.
It was a long process. You were glad you had Harry, who had financial advisors, to help you close on the deal. You and Harry ended up going with the cottage home, of course, which ultimately was the best choice for what the two of you needed at the moment. 
Waiting to move in seemed like it took a lifetime, even though it was only a couple weeks. Your apartment was a mess of boxes and packing tape, and you were glad you had your roommate to help you gather the things you still had left there (since you had basically already moved in with Harry as it was).
When the day finally came to move all your boxes into your new home, you were more than ready to get it over with. You weren’t sure how Harry could remain in such high spirits engaging in such an arduous task (you were honestly feeling quite crabby), so you let Harry deal with the movers lest you accidentally lose your cool and snap at someone. He kept offering to help them move things, feeling guilty for just standing around while they heaved your extensive amount of belongings around, but they kept insisting they were fine. Your fiancé opted to contribute by going to the kitchen and making them lemonade and little sandwiches, instead.
“We have a lot of stuff, don’t we?” Harry glances up at you as you walk into the kitchen, a mischievous look on his face.
“What’s this we? Pretty sure they’re struggling to carry your things around, not mine,” you snake your arms around Harry’s waist. “Maybe we can have a garage sale? Get to know some neighbors too, hmm?”
“Weird to sell Gucci at a garage sale, innit?” Harry cuts a sandwich into four perfect triangles and sets them beside him on a platter he must’ve dug out of some box. You shrug.
“I’m sure you’re not the only person in this neighborhood who can afford Gucci.”
Harry hums in response, continuing to slather spread onto the sandwiches he was making. “Can you go offer these to the movers? Ask ‘em if they want lemonade or water, too.” He tilts his head toward the tray on the other side of the counter and you reach around him to grab it.
“Look at you makin’ everyone snacks and whatnot. So domestic,” you tease, grabbing Harry’s cheek and pinching firmly. “It’s getting me all hot.”
“Yeah?” He questions, going along with your playful pestering. “Y’like it?”
“Fuckin’ love it,” you coo, giving him bedroom eyes. Harry throws his head back, letting out a loud guffaw. You exit the kitchen and go from person to person, kindly offering them sandwiches which they are more than happy to accept.
The movers finish a couple of hours later, your beautiful home still just as beautiful, but now a myriad of boxes and trash bags. The two of you had absolutely no furniture yet, seeing as Harry wanted to buy everything new instead of bringing the furniture from his old home for reasons you were still unsure of.
Harry settled on making the two of you sandwiches for supper, seeing as that was the only food you had in the entire house, and neither one of you felt like running to the store to buy anything else. He pours two tall glasses of lemonade before carefully walking to where you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room.
“Our new home...,” Harry trails off, looking around the cluttered space. “The first thing that’s ours.”
“I could cry,” you reply, voice slightly shaky. “Like, it’s just so surreal. We can really decorate however we want and celebrate holidays–”
“Gonna fight wif’ each other ‘n love on each other,” he adds. “Grow old with each other... so happy you’re all mine and ‘m all yours.”
Your heart swells at Harry’s words. He can always tell when you’re growing emotional––he knows you better than anyone else, after all––and he quickly moves closer to you, pulling you into his side. Neither one of you says anything, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You opt to bask in each other’s company and the comfortable silence that fills the dim living room. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Harry scoot the food and drinks out of the way before he pulls you fully into his lap.
“I can’t wait for all of it,” you wrap your arms around his neck, sucking lightly on the area where the skin of his jaw trails into his neck. “Can’t wait to have it all with you.”
“Know what ‘m lookin’ forward to the most?” You hum. “Lookin’ forward to the baby makin’.”
Your breath hitches in your throat at Harry’s admission. Sure, you’ve discussed children before––you were getting married! Still, he catches you off-guard.
“Yeah?”
“Mmm,” his hand slowly makes its way underneath your shirt, loving how he already had you squirming under him.
“I’ve got it,” you mumble quietly, moving away from him. You expertly unclasp your bra and fling it out of the way, letting it join the rest of the mess that litters the floor of your home.
“This is really the first place we’re gonna shag in, then?” Harry asks breathlessly, sucking roughly against your collarbone. 
You shrug your shoulders before moving to tangle your hands in Harry’s hair. “The entire house is a mess, this is as good a spot as any.”
“Can’t argue with that,” he mutters, trailing his hands down your body until he gets to your bottom. He easily shimmies your tight leggings down your legs, having done this many, many times before. “Gonna help me christen every room in this house, angel?”
“Yeah,” you’re quick to respond. You wish there was more kissing and less talking going on, but your arrogant fiancé loved two things: teasing you, and the sound of his own voice. “Can I have a kiss?”
“Where do ya want that kiss?”
“Get your mind outta the gutter,” you plead, tilting your head to the side so Harry can access your neck easier. “My lips.” 
You know what Harry’s going to say before he says it. “Which ones?”
“H, come on,” you whine, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Gimmie one.” 
Harry finally gives into your requests and presses his lips delicately against yours, humming in pleasure as he feels you sink deeper into the kiss. “I’m messin’ with ya, Y/N. I could never pass on givin’ ya a kiss.” 
“I’m glad,” you answer triumphantly, shamelessly stealing another kiss from him. 
“Gonna go all the way with me on our living room floor? Dirty girl, you are,” Harry says quietly, gently removing you from his lap. He helps you lay back on the floor, but not before bunching up your leggings for you to use as a pillow. 
“All good?” 
“Mmm,” you reach up for him, wanting to feel his lips against yours once again. He doesn’t give in so easily—not this time. Harry allows you to take his plump upper lip into your mouth before pulling away just out of your reach. You let out a pitiful whimper which causes Harry to puff out his chest, his ego getting the best of him. 
“Gonna make ya feel so good,” he says quietly, rubbing his palm against your core. Your underwear was still on and you knew he was approximately four seconds away from ripping them off.
“I know,” you answer quickly. “I know, H.”
“You sound impatient.”
“I just wanna get on with it.”
Harry sits back on his heels. “What’s tha’ rush? Jus’ us, yeah? Jus’ me?”
“I need it,” you say under your breath. You were usually quite vocal in bed with Harry, but something about the way his gaze fixed on you had butterflies fluttering all-around your stomach.
“What do you need?” Harry taps your bum while he’s saying this, signaling for you to lift yourself slightly off the ground so he can get them around your ankles. 
“I need you in me,” you whisper. You knew he knew exactly where you needed him, but you’d stroke his ego a bit if it meant he’d fuck you just how you wanted him to. “Hard. F-fast.”
“I can manage that,” he cheekily replies, giving his hard cock three tugs before pressing himself to your entrance. “Don’t want me to eat ya out or summat?”
“No,” you answer entirely too quickly. “Please just fuck me, H-”
He understands just how needy and desperate you are now and wastes no more time, swiftly entering your tight cunt like he was made just for you. Your body always molded together so perfectly––no one knew you better than he did. When you were really pressed for time, he could get you off in less than five minutes. Although his pace is relentless tonight though, there is no rush. 
You felt full in such a way that only Harry could make happen. You let out a loud moan as he moves your leg ever so slightly to angle you in such a way that he knew would hit your spongy walls deep inside of you.
“Y’like it? Like me fuckin’ into ya like this?”
“Love it,” you moan breathlessly, reaching to cradle your tits. Harry raises his eyebrows, pace faltering slightly.
“What are you bein’ so quiet for? S’no one here except us,” he reaches in between your sweaty bodies to flick your clit. “Can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me–are you gonna come, puppy? Come around my cock?”
His teasing is all it takes for you to cum around him, clenching down so tightly that it takes a surprising deal of strength for him to keep moving. Harry follows shortly behind you, letting out an animalistic groan that sounds downright filthy. In that moment, you were glad that there was no one else in the house because if there was, they definitely would’ve heard you and Harry coming down from your respective highs together. He speaks after a moment, chest still heaving.
“One room down, the rest of the house to go.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
as always, please let me know what you thought here!
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another-army-spot · 5 months ago
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The Rulebook (1) II jjk (m)
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Pairing: Jungkook X oc (fem) -- other members appear throughout
Rating:  M
Word: ~8.4k
Genre: friends-to-lovers, college!au, softfuckboy!jk, fuckgirl!oc, fraternity!au, eventual smut 
Summary:  Despite being the notorious fuck girl on campus, you have morals and values that you stick to with a solid set of rules.  One of your rules excludes Golden Boy, Jungkook, from ever getting a chance with you, much to both of your dismay.  And he intends to change that, with one really irresistible bet. 
Warnings:  Language, college-age drinking, weed smoking, non descriptive depictions of sex, OC is a repressed idiot, Jungkook is out here really trying to keep his cool, some may think Jungkook is pushing boundaries but you’ll get it once you read (hopefully)
AN:  I’ve been thinking about this one for a long time, so I’m a bit nervous about this fic.  I personally love college!aus and am glad that I have finally written one.  Please let me know what you think.
One II Two II Three II Four II Five II Six II Seven
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The noises that come from the last studio on the right echo through the basement of the art building are hard not to recognize.  There are clanging materials, banging, and loud human noises.  The icing on the cake is that you walked into the building, and everyone knows that you have no business in the art building.  You’d only come in for one thing, and one thing only.
And that thing today is Cha Eunwoo.  The hearthrob of the art department has an angelic face, dreamy eyes, and a small sketchbook in his hand all the time.  You share your sensory psychology elective with him, and since the start of the semester, it seems like he’s been bumping into you more.  He shows up during your shifts at the library, and he even showed up to your family’s frat at the beginning of the semester, and maybe gave you a few compliments about how your drinking flush reminds him of the sunset.  It’s corny but you’re not hard to please.
So when Eunwoo comes up to you after lecture last week, he lets you know that he needs a model for his sketch class.  He compliments your jaw line and angles.  You’re a simple girl, so you say yes in an exchange for coffee.  You show up to his scheduled studio today, just thirty minutes ago, and you smile as he greets you.  Once you settle in with a short tour of the studio that you’ve never stepped inside before, he instructs you to pick a position that you can stand for a long time.  When you smile at him and remind him that you’re flexible, it’s all over from there.
Currently, he lets out hot pants against your neck.  Your arms tremble from holding yourself up for so long.  He came long and hard.  You came, kind of?  He looks at you like a man gazing upon Aphrodite.  You look at him like a midnight snack — good but not necessary.  It’s no offense to him, it’s just how you operate.
When Eunwoo pulls out of you, your legs drop from his waist.  You shake your arms, trying to dull the pain from holding yourself up on the easel.  At least now you get to check easel sex off your bucket list.
Eunwoo presses a kiss to your cheek before saying, “You’re a muse.”
“I do what I can to help aspiring artists,” you shrug with a smirk.
“Truly,” he smiles as he pulls the condom off and tosses it in the garbage bin.  He gives you a look, one you’ve seen before in other guys’ eyes.  It looks an awful lot like hope.  “Maybe we can do it again some time.”
There it is.  The dreaded question.  You’ve been asked this question plenty of times, so you should’ve developed some numbness to it now.  But it somehow always leaves you with an aching feeling in your chest.  It sucks because no matter how many accurate stories spread, sometimes each guy thinks they’ll get a different answer.
“You know I don’t really do that,” you say softly as you shimmy your shorts back on.
“Ah,” Eunwoo lets out, face falling flat.  “Right, I have.”
“It’s not you,” you blurt out.  “It’s me… I just have rules about it.”  There’s no point in trying to rub the wound with salt, but for some reason, you always do.  
“Yeah, I heard about it.  I get it.”
You consider trying to explain yourself further but there’s no need.  He probably knows that there is no point in trying to push it.  He’s probably fed up, but at least, he’s not asking questions like, Why are you already denying the opportunity?  Was it bad?  Why’re you such a snob?  
You just have rules.  And rule number 2 is never have sex with same person twice.  
Once your clothes are on, you thank Eunwoo for the matcha and the good time.  “If you ever do need a model again, I got you though.”
“I actually do,” laughs Eunwoo as he buttons his shirt.  He winks.  “Meant what I said about a good jawline.  I’ll text you.”
You smile before leaving.  “Okay.”  Hopefully, he really does get it.  But it’s not your responsibility to take care of boys’ feelings.  
With an hour before your shift at the library, you decide to follow your stomach’s demanding growl.  You’ll need to eat before your night shift campus job otherwise you’d never be able to focus on the dewey decibel system.  Luckily, one of the dining halls is right across from the library so it would be a quick trip.  
The moment you enter the glass building, you relish the scent of cheesy goodness from the brick over pizza line.  It’s longer than you’d like but you can double fist two slices on your way if needed.  But the decision between pepperoni, plain, Margherita, and veggie weighs on you.  Meat sounds great, but it’s already nearly eight — will it still be good?  Or would the veggies be soggy-
“Dr Evil,” a deep voice calls, pulling you out of your internal cheese dilemma.
There’s no need to turn your head because that’s the voice you grew up with all your life.  You know it as well as you know your own.  Your twin brother Taehyung has a deep baritone voice that pinpoints him out in a crowd.  He’s famous on campus for more than just his voice.  And besides the fact that he’s a Kim.
“Wannabe Austin Powers,” you reply with a smirk.  
As usual, Taehyung’s fit stands out too.  He’s in a Gucci paisley shirt, dark jeans, and gentle monster sunglasses, despite being indoors during the evening.  One of his sugar parents probably bought him the entire outfit.  He looks you up and down once.  You’re nowhere near as fashionable as your brother, as you stand before him in a stolen Beta Tau sweatshirt and a pair of biker shorts.
“Did you just have sex?”  He asks shortly.
“Is it obvious?”  You sniff your sweater for confirmation.  
“No, it’s your hair,” he points.  “Looks like a rat’s nest.”
Your hands fly to your hair.  “It’s a messy bun, you plebeian.”
“You’re not cool enough to pull off an actual messy bun.”  You suck your teeth at him and before you can come up with a retort, he asks casually, “Who’d you sleep with?”
“I’m not telling you,” you reply, flat faced.
“I need to know so that I don’t try to sleep with him.”
“Ha, you wish you could sleep with him.”
“You know I could. And I’m trying to avoid twincest.”
“A - gross. B- that’s not even what twincest is.”
“I’ll give you pizza if you tell me.”  He gives you a big boxy smile that works on your parents, your friends, and literally anyone ever.  Charm runs in your family, and Taehyung isn’t afraid to use it.
“I’m getting my own,” you shrug him off.
Tae points down the line. “They only have enough for the first few people.  You won’t make it in time.”
You look down the line and pout.  Cheese.  The other options like salad and sushi don’t appeal the same way that hot cheese does.  Ugh, this is just awful.
But Taehyung pulls your sleeve before you make a decision.  He knows that would take forever.  “Come on, I got some.”  He pulls you through the cafeteria and towards the back where he sits with a bunch of his fraternity brothers and your family members.
“Hi, ____,” Jimin smiles.  He’s a junior like you, and a boy that’s just too good for this world.  He has a smile that brightens any dairy-free day.
Beside him are your cousins.  The Kims have a long legacy at Beta Tau Sigma, and are renowned for being the fuckboys on the campus.  Jin, the campus-wide prince, is known for his dad jokes and being the picture perfect boyfriend who will take you on well-manicured dates and bring your flowers.  Little do you know that when things get just one step too serious, he’ll ghost you and say that he’s not ready.  
Next to him is your other cousin, Namjoon.  While Jin goes for students, Namjoon has quite the reputation of hooking up with professors, single moms in the college town, and international students.  He wins hearts with intelligence and tightly formulated debates that boil blood and wet panties.
Taehyung is more of an enigma - he doesn’t have preferences.  If Taehyung wants to have sex with you, there is a 95% chance he get what he wants.  If he decides to hook up with you for a while, then so be it.  If he decides that he’s done, he’s done.  No pattern, no style.  Just Taehyung.  
Each Kim has their own niche that they cater to, which has made your family quite famous.  And you and your rulebook are included.  It has also made you an honorary member of BTS in some ways -- skip-the-line access to parties and free booze.  In return, you offer wingman skills and listen to the boys complain about whatever they may need.  
And across from Namjoon is a boy who may need too much from you, though he never says it.  It’s Golden Boy, Jeon Jungkook.  
You don’t have a type, because you find them limiting for your one night stand excursions.  But, if you did, it’d be this kid.  He’s perfect at everything he tries, has a gorgeous face made directly in God’s personal laboratory, and can actually take a joke.   Although he’s on the quieter side, he gets along with nearly everyone.  People fall head over heels for the kid, and unfortunately, you’re not immune to his big smile and silly antics.  He’ll even follow through on crazy bets.  He dyed his hair blue last week because he lost a beer pong bet with Hoseok.  Some guys have too much pride to do impulsive shit like that.  You love bets. 
Too bad Jungkook is off limits.  Otherwise you would’ve made him your bitch. 
“Look,” Taehyung says, plopping down across from Jimin.  You’re left to sit in between him and Jungkook, which is just not good for your heart rate.  Your brother points to Jungkook’s plate and says, “Pizza.”
“Wow, you didn’t even offer me your own,” you grumble as you plop down.  Before you reach out to Jungkook’s plate, he slides his plate away.
Jungkook tuts.  “Nah, you’re cute, but I’m hungry today.”
“Awe come on, Jeon,” you pout, knowing he loves your lips, “I got a midnight shift tonight.  I’m dying here.”
“And I have to finish an essay for my film history class by midnight,” he counters as he takes a big bite, right in front of your face.  “I need sustenance.  I’m a growing boy.”
“If you grow anymore,” Jin frowns, “then we’re all going to die.  You’re not allowed to punch me anymore.”
“Yeah, bro, can you stop going to the gym for a week to let us catch up,” Jimin agrees with an infectious laugh.
Jungkook scoffs.  With his distraction, you reach out for his pizza again.  But the black belt and boxing champ lean back.  You make a whining noise.  “Just a bite?” You ask with big eyes.  
“You are cute when you beg,” he smirks. He passes it to you. “Fine.”
You make a kissy face at him before taking a bite into his pizza.  You relish the flavor and snuggle further into your chair.  
“Can you two just sleep together already?” Namjoon asks, looking at you two in disgust.
You shake your head but focus on the pizza.
“____ knows I’ve been down for it, but hey, rule number 7 still applies,” Jungkook shrugs as he opens his box of pocky.  You nod in agreement as you catch some falling cheese.
Namjoon sighs.  “Your self-imposed restrictions for sex are going to be your own downfall.”
“I’d be complete chaos without them,” you argue amicably, wiping your mouth with a napkin stolen from Taehyung.  “You guys would have to do so much damage control.”
“We deal with Taehyung,” Jin points.  
“But two of us?” You set down your slice on Jungkook’s plate.  “I like my rules, guys.  They’ve been working for me the past two years.  They keep me in order and keep things as tidy as possible.”
Jungkook opens his mouth but shuts it.  He just rests his elbow against the table and drops his chin into his hand, looking outside.
“Guys, leave ____ alone,” Jimin insists.  “She’s not going to change unless somehow her rulebook changes.  Leave it alone.”
Sweet boy.
Your cousins and friends return to a heated discussion of Attack On Titan and the overall question of who is going to kill Eren: Mikasa or Levi?  The debate allows you to focus on the pizza and Namjoon’s chips as you already know the answer since you read the manga.  In the corner of your eye, you notice Jungkook’s quietness -- it’s palpable as he bores laser into the side of your head.  Your eyes dart over to him and you catch his stare.  Not that he’s trying to hide it.  It makes your face heat.
“What?”  You ask lowly.
“You just had sex, didn’t you?”  He asks, just as quiet and calm.
“Is it obvious?”  Your hands fly to your hair.
“Munchies,” he laughs.  “It’s either that or you just smoked a ton of weed, and you don’t smell like your brother.”
You pat your hair.  “I guess I should be honored that Golden Boy Jeon pays so much attention to me.”
“You know I do.”
This is true.  Despite being friends with him, you know that Jungkook would also be down to jump your bones in a heartbeat.  Since the moment he laid eyes on you, he made it clear as day that he found you attractive.  But you are the one that kept him at arm’s length and friend zoned him, because of stupid rule 7.
Rule 7:  Never have sex with BTS boys.
The rules started up in college, and maybe if Jungkook had entered the same year as you, instead of him coming in as a transfer, you would have made an exception.  The rules were just forming back then.  But you met him last year, after clearly establishing the perfect set of rules for meaningless sex.  You can’t go back on them now.
“So,” he asks after a moment, pulling you off of memory lane.  “Who was it?”  He asks with a smirk.
“God, not you too.”
“Just curious who the lucky guy is,” Jungkook says, putting his hands up.  
“Yo,” Taehyung says leaning forward, resting his chin on your shoulder.  He turns his head to face yours.  “Are you seriously telling him and not me?  I gave you pizza!”
You smush your brother’s face.  “No, he did, not you.”
Through your spread fingers, Taehyung grumbles.  “Semantics. Spill, Sister of Mine.”
“What if I value my privacy and my partner’s confidentiality?”  You shoot back.
Jungkook lets out a short laugh.  “Come on, ____.  If you really valued that, you wouldn’t have had sex on the roof with Moonbin last semester.”
You glare at him for daring to bring that up.  You reach out for Namjoon’s soda.
“What’s going on?”  Namjoon asks curiously, swatting your hand away from his fizzy unknown beverage.
“Trying to figure out who ____ had sex with just now.”  Taehyung answers.   
“Just now?” Namjoon repeats.  He glares at you as your fingers inch forward for his soda.  He retracts it and gives you a disgusted look, like you’re a cockroach instead of his cousin,  “Out of your damn mind.  Don’t know where your mouth has been.”
“You guys are so annoying!”  You hiss, pushing Tae’s face off your shoulder.  “Fine.  Anyway, it’s rule number 8 that we don’t sleep with the same people.  It was Eunwoo.”
Jin’s face perks up.  “Eunwoo?  Jung Eunwoo from PST?”
Jimin lets out a bark of a laugh.  “Nah, ___ is too straight.”
“Cha Eunwoo,” you finish.  
The boys blink at you.
“Good for you,” Jin nods.  “He’s handsome.”
“That’s quite a compliment coming from you.”
“Professors think so too,” Namjoon adds.  He would know.  You often wonder what professor pillow talk would be like.  You have rule number 9 though -- no sleeping with university professors.
The interest in your sex life dies down and re-focuses onto Namjoon’s latest hook up with Philosphy professor.  As Namjoon recounts the night in as little detail as possible, Jungkook keeps staring at you.  He doesn’t say anything this time, but you’re pretty sure he’s thinking about you.
In the beginning, you thought of yourself as mean for getting close to Jungkook as friends.  Some guys didn’t appreciate the friend zone but Jungkook really doesn’t seem to care.  He’d still hook up with other girls and even go on a few dates.  It’s not like he was waiting for you.
The clock ticks 7:45PM, and that’s when you decide to head over to the Library.  You gather your books in your arms and stand up.  “Gotta go, Guys.  Library shift.”
“You coming to Poker on Friday?” Jin asks.  
“Sure, got to keep you broke,” you smile widely.  
“That was the most bullshit hand I’ve ever seen!” Jin retorts.  “Who the fuck plays a 6-9 off suit.”
“Me, duh.”
Jungkook stands up as the boys laugh.  “I’ll come with,” he says, slinging his backpack of his shoulder.  “Paper.  See you at the house.”
 Jungkook follows you towards the cafeteria exit.   “You want coffee?” He asks.  “I owe you for the movies last week.”
The image of Jungkook’s pouty face when he realized he left his wallet at home was maybe the most precious thing you’ve ever seen.  The poor boy couldn’t stand to watch a movie without snacks, so you offered to buy him his little popcorn-soda-candy set.  Seeing his face light up warmed the cockles of your heart.
“Sure, thanks,” you nod.  He knows that caffeine is your only weakness -- that and orgasms.
You wait by the exit as Jungkook pays for the coffee.  He returns with a piping hot large and announces, “Vanilla latte with oatmilk, M’lady.”
“Atta boy,” you smile before taking a large swig.  “Thank you,” you sigh as he holds the door open for you.
The night air brushes against your skin, crisp and light.  The light of the moon shone on you and Jungkook meander through the street lamp lit way.  It’s a peaceful night, still on your endorphin high from your time with Eunwoo and enjoying the stimulation from the caffeine. Jungkook is quiet, but it’s nice.  You never thought it would be so nice to be alone with someone.
“You know, ____, we’d be great,” Jungkook says, breaking the silence.
You let out an exasperated sigh.  “I was just thinking how nice and quiet this was.”
“I’m not saying anything new. You know I’m into you,” Jungkook says casually, as if commenting on semesterly courses.
“I wish you were saying something new.”
“In all this time, you’ve never once said that you don’t want to sleep with me back.  If you don’t want to be with me, just say so.”
Your eyes narrow.  “Is it that simple?” 
“Could be.”
You want to say no, but that wouldn’t be the truth. And you’re a shit liar.  Your mouth just can’t formulate the lie that would end all the tension between you two  But truthfully you don’t want it to end.
“I wish it were,” you murmur before taking another sip.  
“Yeah instead you go for subpar one night stands and create a NDA for each and every hook up,” he smirks.
“Eunwoo was not subpar.”
“You know what I mean.”
You turn to Jungkook, hands clutching your books.  “Aren't you tired of this? Me rejecting you.”
“Is that what you’re doing? Because I haven’t heard you say yes or no.  I want a shot or a shot down, ____.”
“It would be too complicated, Jungkook,” you groan, lolling your head back. “You know that.”
“I know that you think us sleeping together would cause catastrophe in your perfect little rulebook, but in reality, you don’t know that.”
“It’s messy! You live across the door from my family members.”
“Do you think I’d hurt you?”
“No, I think I’d hurt you.”
Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek.  “I’m not as easy to hurt as you’d think.”
You roll your eyes.  “You cry when you watch Moana.”
“Her grandma’s death is tragic!”
 You laugh at the memory of Jungkook yeeting his tears to the side so that no one would see.  It was so cute that you just had to sear that image into your brain forever.  If you had slept with Jungkook, that memory would’ve never happened.  It would be too weird to be with him as a friend if you had crossed that line. You like your chances as friends more than the chance of ruining it with something as simple as sex. 
“Don’t you miss it?” He asks, stopping your spiral.
“Miss what?”
“The intimacy.”
You blink.  “Intimacy?”  The word rolls off your tongue like it’s foreign.
“Yeah, dude.  Like, the learning part of sex?”
“You think I lack intimacy?”
“You must.”
“Enlighten me, Dr. Phil.”
Jungkook exhales.  “There is absolutely no way that you can have intimacy with a rulebook. You don’t even have sex with people twice. I genuinely don’t believe that you can learn or other guys can learn what you like in one night. I’m good, but not even I’m that good.”
“Eunwoo was pretty good,” You shrug. It’s a below the belt hit but you hope that it will halt this conversation ASAP.
“Maybe,” Jungkook shrugs, “but he could probably be great if you let him learn what you really like.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, hard.  You’ve had good orgasms, shit, even great ones.  And you’ve had some really unfortunate and uninteresting nights with people whom you would never wish to look in the eyes again.  The good times didn’t outweigh the bad, but you didn’t want to take the chance.  You like sex as a sport, or a business meeting.  Two people come together and negotiate serotonin.  The end.  
“You’re not going to change my mind.”
“Princess, don’t I know,” he laughs.  Even when he’s fighting an uphill battle, Jungkook takes it like a champ.  “Let me know when you’re looking for something real.”  
Cheeky bastard.
“Let me know when you’re done chasing after me.”
Jungkook is about to shoot you down again, but instead you hear him let out a quiet “oh fuck.”
Before you can turn to ask him what happened, Jungkook pulls you.  He tries to hide himself and you behind one of the pillars holding up the awning of the library entrance.  “What happened?” You ask.
“It’s Tzuyu…” Jungkook murmurs quietly, his voice falling flat.
You peer past the pillar and see Tzuyu exiting the building with her sorority sisters, Jungyeon and Chaeyoung.  All three girls are dressed like the trio from Clueless, looking absolutely sweet as can be.  It baffles you that Jungkook would have a problem with anyone.  But by Jungkook’s tense figure, you can sense something is off with him and her.  It doesn’t take much for you to put two and two together.  “You slept with Tzuyu?  Atta boy!”  You say, patting him on the head.  
“It was just once during orientation week,” Jungkook clarifies, not looking at you.  He’s too focused on keeping an eye on Tzuyu’s movements.  “I shouldn’t have done it.  I know she’s not the sleeping around type, but I was high.  I knew she would be the type to want more.”
You chuckle.  “I’m pretty sure NDAs seem pretty solid right about now.”
“Yeah, yeah, rub it in.”
“Can’t believe you don’t want to sleep with her again?” You ask shortly.  “She’s the prettiest girl on campus!”
“I’m pretty sure Cha Eunwoo is the prettiest boy on campus, but are you going to break rule number 2?” He retorts.  “Nope.”
“We’re talking about you here, not me.  My rules never make me run away.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
“Jungkook,” you say firmly.  You slap the concrete in front of you.  “We’re hiding behind a pillar.  This is bullshit.”
He laughs but that stops short.  “Oh, fuck.  Jungyeon saw me.”
You look back and see Jungyeon’s face grows with irritation.  Your gaze stares back at Jungkook, who’s planning his escape.  You watch him consider his options — running behind the building or running behind the trees.  But both would lead him to get caught, and nothing is worse than running for no reason.
You could help him, and that dumb distraught look on his face is just too cute.  Also, this wouldn’t break any of your rules.  
“You owe me, Jeon.”
“Huh?  I paid for your coffee -“
Before he can say anymore, you pull Jungkook close by the collar of his hoodie.  Your lips press against his, and that’s that.  It’s a bad idea, but you’re known for those.
Jungkook blinks as his brain begins to register how soft your lips feel against his.  It’s happening right before him, something he imagined a hundred times over since he met you.  You’re kissing him, and all to help him avoid a girl that he doesn’t want to lead on.  You’re really something else.  But he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.  
Jungkook wastes no time in letting his hands fall to your hips.  He pulls you in closer so that his hand can fall to your tight ass, giving it a squeeze.  You gasp at the feeling, and he snickers into the kiss.  He takes the opportunity to let his tongue slide into your mouth, and God, do you taste good.  Rainwater and dark chocolate.  He has to ingrain it in his memory.  
It’s surprising how you waited this long to kiss Jungkook, especially since nowhere in your guide to sex does it exclude this activity.  Just like his attitude, he’s so straight forward and confident, but also sweet.  He holds you tight and takes charge in exploring your mouth.  Swapping spit has never felt natural.  You could do this forever.
But reality seeps in when you hear gasps coming from the pavilion.  Your first instinct is to look but Jungkook’s large tatted hand comes up to hold your face in place.  Your eyes open, just barely, and past his full nose, you see two girls patting the head of the tallest in the middle.  They run off.  The coast is clear, but you close your eyes for just one more second.  Breathing him into your lungs and soul.  Relishing it while you can.  With your lips preoccupied, you can’t let the truth out: you wanted this for a long time.  
Too bad.
You pull back from Jungkook before you get carried away.  You bite your lip at the sight of his plump lips and eyelashes blinking open.  He sucks in a breath at you too.  “You’re trouble,” he mumbles.
Suddenly it becomes hard to look him in the eye.  “That’s no way to thank me for preventing Jungyeon from roasting you in public,” you murmur as you tuck a loose strand behind your ear.  “She’d tear your head off.”
Jungkook pauses.  It looks like he wants to say something else but he ends up saying, “Thanks, Kim #3.”
You let out a short laugh as you turn your back on him.  “You gotta stop calling me that.”
Jungkook laughs as he puts an arm around your shoulder as you enter the library.  Maybe on another day, you’d object to his touch.  But, you’ll keep up the facade for his sake — it’s a firm and steady weight.  It’s quite relaxing actually, easing your racing heart.
A few people watch as you and Jungkook enter.  The two of you veer right where two lines of tables sit in the middle of the floor, right in front of the main desks.  Just as you’re about to shrug his arm off, Jungkook’s hand slides down your back and gives it a soft squeeze.  You punch him in the arm and he lets out an obnoxiously high pitched laugh.
The other librarian on duty so happens to be your roommate, Mina, and the dreamy girl looks oddly focused on you.  Her eyes flit between you and Jungkook, who takes his usual seat (third table on the left, facing the librarian’s desks), and she looks like a fish out of water.  
“Don't speak,” you warn as you set down your backpack on the desk next to hers.
“Jungkook smacked your ass,” she says simply.  “He walked in with his arm around you.  You look like you just had sex.”
“I did.”
Mina lets out a soul stealing gasp.
“With Cha Eunwoo.”
Mina blinks a few times, like a newborn puppy seeing light for the first time.  “We’re going to circle back to that, in just a moment,” she says, swinging her finger.  “But, I also heard that a few people saw you and Jungkook making out before coming in.”
If the news is already spreading, then Tzuyu will probably stay away from Jungkook.  Not that you care, but it’ll help Jungkook out.  That’s good, it’s the reason why you kissed the idiot in the first place.  Or that’s what you’re going to tell yourself.
“People really like to talk,” you sigh.
“You’re not denying it,” Mina mumbles.  Her eyes peek back to Jungkook and she sucks her teeth.  “And he’s staring at you.”
“He always stares.”
“No, _____.  He’s really staring at you, like he’s looking for your soul.  Awe, that’s kind of cute.”  Her voice shifts from intense to super sweet in a split second.
“Shut up.”
The smarter part of you says to keep concentrating on unpacking your psychology textbooks, but the weaker part (and the stronger part) forces you to look up.  Mina isn’t wrong.  Jungkook is staring at you.  His eyes bore into yours, and you feel heat rising from your toes up to your face.  He doesn’t look away or smile like he usually does.  No, he’s figuring something out, putting pieces together like you’re a puzzle.  After a year of pushing the film major away, you let him in. 
You probably made a huge mistake for your rulebook.
*
You won’t realize what a huge mistake you made until two days after.  On your Wednesday library shift, you see a sophomore that you’ve been keeping tabs on for a while now.  Sanha is a cute thing with a small face and baby doe eyes.  You have stats with him, and he sometimes asks you for help.  You’d expect to have an easy in with him, just like Eunwoo.  Just like most guys.
Because most guys don’t really give a shit that you like to sleep around.  Gen Z could care less about numbers, as long as you aren’t trying to pass around STIs or secretly get pregnant.  If people are looking to get fucked, so be it.  It’s not that complicated.
When you accidently bump into him in the stacks during your break, Sanha waves and greets you like you’d expect.  You ask him about the upcoming exam, which he is obviously nervous about because the boy just cannot wrap his head around confidence levels.  In your graciousness, you offer to tutor him.  At first, he seems delighted by your soft smile and your hand on his arm.  You’re pretty, no one can deny that.  And the rumor mill is in your favor because you do have A+ head game.  
But then his face drops.  Sanha bites the inside of his cheek before saying no.  You just say it’s tutoring, and that you’d like to help if he wants it.  (It’s true, you would like to help the nervous wreck, but you’d also like to sleep with him.)  And then he says something that just makes you uninterested in sleeping with him.  “Wait, but aren’t you seeing Jungkook?”  
In just a couple of days, your reputation has turned to ash.  It has burned in flames, combusted, and turned to rubble.  You think it may just be Sanha, but no, apparently a lot of people are confused by your makeout with Jungkook.  People think you’re sleeping together.  Like regularly.
How can one make-out turn into full-blown stories?  You’ve had sex with people on roofs and in studios -- how could a kiss be more interesting than your latest hook up? Fangirls come up to you before classes or during your work shifts, asking if you’re really dating Jungkook.  You deny with enthusiasm, pleading the girls who have enough balls to ask you directly to let other people know.  The denial of the story is apparently less interesting to the university because the rumors don’t die.
Even your brother has to ask.
The Jaws ringtone, specifically designated for Taehyung, wakes you from your three hour slumber Friday evening.  You groan from underneath your covers before grabbing the contraption.  Without opening your eyes, you slide it open and ask in a groggy voice, “What?”
“You fucking Jungkook?”
“Dude, no.”
“Okay, cool,” Taehyung dismisses. “Not that it’s a problem for me, I’d just be mad that you didn’t tell me.”
You let out a yawn.  “Of course, I’d tell you.  But I’m never fucking him.”
“Nah, but you’ll make out with him apparently.”
You rub the bridge of your nose.  “It was a favor,” you say through clenched teeth.
“No,” Taehyung says simply.  “A favor is Jungkook giving you his pizza.  Not licking his mouth with yours.”
“Ew, Dude.”
He sighs.  “I can’t wait for you to get over your denial.  But until then, do you want anything from Wong’s for Poker?”
You sit up in your bed and rub your eyes.  “Yeah.  Hot and Sour soup.”
“Jungkook already ordered that for you.  Right, Jeon?”
“Yeah.”  You hear Jungkook’s voice in the background.
You click your tongue.  “Did you have to call me and ask about me fucking Jungkook if you’re already with him?  You live with him.”
“Yeah, but Jungkook is a liar and a fraud.  And he has a hard time deciphering reality from fantasy.  Anything else though?  We got dumplings and fried rice for everyone.”
“Uh…” you grumble as you rub the back of her neck.  
“Spring rolls?”  Jungkook asks in the background.
“Yeah, get that for her,” Tae insists.  “If we wait for her to choose, we’d be here until closing.”
“Hey,” you whine.
“It’s true,” Tae laughs.  “Meet us at the house.”
“I know,” You yawn.  
“Remember to bring Mina.  Jimin wants her to play.”
“She knows,” you agree as you stretch from your slumber. “But you do know that Jimin is too good for Mina, right?  The only way she’d give him attention is if he suddenly becomes a dickhead.  He’ll get hurt.”
Taehyung lets out a short laugh.  “He likes that shit.”
“Um, okay. Bye.  I can’t do this when I’m just waking up.”  You click the red button to end your ludicrous conversation with your brother.  You let the phone drop.  “Mina!”  You shout from your bed.  “Poker tonight!”
“I’m in mourning!”  Mina yells from the living room.  
“What does Poker have to do with mourning?”  You ask, sliding out of your bed.  
“The only thing I gamble is my heart.”
“Jimin wants a go at it,” you say, opening the door to the bright living room you share.  
Mina is sitting on the floor with her makeup mirror on the coffee table and her clothes already on to go out.  She’s wearing a black t-shirt, torn up jeans, and adding some dark eyeliner.  She gives you a big grin.  
“You’re going to eat poor Jimin alive, aren’t you?”
“Only if he reminds me of my ex.”
“Girl,” you mutter as you shake your head before entering back into your room.  
In roughly fifteen minutes, you’ve thrown on a pair of shorts, a big flannel, and some simple base makeup on.  Mina is ready by the time you’re done.  She is sitting on the couch, scrolling through her ex-boyfriend’s instagram.  Her eyes are hidden by her baseball cap.  “Isn’t he handsome?” She shows you the picture of Mark, the boy she dumped because she loved him too much.
You don’t get it, but you don’t have to.
Mina drives you both over to the Beta Tau house after picking up chasers.  It’s nice living with someone with a car since you refuse to make the executive decision to learn how to drive.  In general, Mina is a good roommate despite you being complete opposites.  She’s a romantic, you’re a working-nihilist.  She barely attends classes, you intend on keeping your scholarship money.  She has a car, you chip in for gas.  It’s a symbiotic relationship.
With rush still going on, Greek row is quiet and commencing other initiating activities.  BTS had nearly finished their rush and were taking a break tonight so they could actively fulfill their gambling addiction.  The BTS house is at the end of Greek Row by the woods.  It’s a dark purple house with four stories, and has a deck that wraps around.  Mina finds a spot across the street, and you can already hear laughter and music from inside.
You knock on the door and wait for a few moments before Jin opens the door.  “Pay up now.”
“My goodness,” you grumble.  “Let a girl in first.”
“Nah, house money first.  You can go though, Mina.”
Mina grins widely.
“Hey!”  You pout, but you’re still digging in your back pocket for your cash.  “Why does she get a momentary pass.”
“Because last time you played on house money until the very end,” Jin says as if it were obvious.
“You hold such a grudge,” you whine as you slap twenty dollars into your cousin’s hands.
“Runs in the family,” he smiles as he steps aside.
The moment you walk in, your senses become filled with a dizzying combination of weed and alcohol.  It may not be a party night but that doesn’t stop the fraternity from indulging in age appropriate substance abuse.  It’s college. 
In the living room, you see Namjoon, Hosoek, and his girlfriend, Sana, sitting on the couch.  Your cousin is rolling a blunt while Sana holds Hoseok’s head in her lap.  You greet them. 
“No poker tonight?” You ask, directing the question at Hoseok and Sana.  Namjoon never plays.  Despite being the smartest person at the table, he has the worst financial sense for some reason.  He also nearly breaks the table every time he gets upset for losing to Jimin.
Sana shakes her head as she runs her hands through Hoseok’s hair.  It looks like he’s already sleeping.  “Asian flush got the best of him,” she sighs.
“Ah,” Mina lets out.  “He ate shrimp dumplings instead of chicken.”
“Yup,” Sana sighs.  
“Rookie mistake,” Hoseok grumbles as he curls further into Sana’s lap.  
You and Mina follow Jin through the kitchen, filled with booze and take-out cartons, to the outside deck that looks out onto the woods.  Since the air is still nice and warm, the boys use the deck as much as they can.  
“All right, everyone is here,” Jin announces as he steps outside.  
Everyone sits around a circular plastic green table with a solo cup in hand and chips dealt to each person.  There is Taehyung, Jimin, a boy with blue hair, a boy with pink hair, and the boy who may ruin your entire college career.  He gives you a wink.  
You’ve never wanted to simultaneously hit someone and fuck them at the same time.  
“Finally,” Taehyung says, lolling his head back.  “Let’s make some money. Mina, sit next to our Jimin.  He needs some good luck.  Last time, he lost fifty dollars.”
Mina smiles.  “I’m no good at gambling.”
“Can’t be worse than me,” Jimin blushes.
You decide to take a seat, far away from Jungkook despite there being one in between him and your brother.  You plop beside a boy with pink hair and a boy with blue hair.  
Jin, perceptive as always, rolls his eyes. “You two act like fourth graders.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You shrug pettily.  You turn to the boy with pink hair.  “Hi, I’m ____.”
The boy gulps.  “I-I know.  I’m Yeonjun.”
“You want to be a part of this patriarchal mess?”  
Yeonjun’s jaw drops.  Poor thing.
“Awe come on, ___,” Jungkook laughs as he puts the joint your brother passes to his lips.  “Don’t scare the rushees.”
“It’s just a question.”
Jungkook smirks and looks to Yeonjun and the blue haired boy, like a conman on the street would to an old lady.  “Yeonjun, Soobin -- this is just her tactic.  She tries to scare you before you even start playing so she can bluff her way into making extra money.”
You turn to the blue haired boy, Soobin.  “It works on him.  He likes it when people are mean to him.”
“Just you, Baby,” Jungkook smirks.  He’s about to hit the joint again but Taehyung snatches it away.  
“No, you may not flirt with my sister and smoke my weed.  No no,” he says before taking a drag.
“Wait,” the blue haired boy says.  “I thought you two were dating…”
The table falls silent, and the blue haired boy’s face may turn blue from how he’s holding in his breath.  Eyes dart between you and Jungkook before Taehyung starts laughing wildly, like a hyena.
“Oh Yeonjun, yes,” Taehyung claps. “They are emotionally tied to one another - red thread and all - but will never do anything about it because my sister has the social skills of a squirrel.”
“We’re not dating,” you say clearly as Jin starts dealing out more chips to you and Mina.  “Pass me the vodka.”
The blue haired boy passes the handle to you in a second.  You pour yourself a heavy hand before adding some Sprite in.  “Thank you,” you say graciously.  You glare at Jungkook.  “You must have suffered from these rumors in some way.”
Jungkook shrugs.  “I really could care less.  I haven’t been trying to sleep with anyone this week.  Too many projects.”
You frown and open your mouth to yell at him, for this whole thing that isn't his fault, but Jin clears his throat loudly.  “Okay, okay!  Let’s drop this.  Soobin, Yeonjun, this is ____ and she isn’t sleeping with Jungkook because she doesn’t have any sense and likes to self-destruct.  This is Mina, and she’s perfectly lovely.”
Mina smiles sweetly.  “Awe, Jin.”
“Okay, let’s start,” Jin claps and then rubs his hands together.  “I’m Dealer.”
The game of Texas Hold’em and the drinking begins.  The stakes and chip worth isn’t very high but somehow, not thirty minutes in, Jimin is down some fifteen dollars. You’ve won a few hands and have made yourself an extra five bucks (two shin ramen cups).  Jin and Mina have stayed in the same range, while Jungkook is also up.  Yeonjun and Soobin, blue hair, have lost some money but aren't as bad as Jimin.  Taehyung is up a whopping twenty, but that’s because your brother has the straightest face in the history of Beta Tau.  Completely unfazed, like the psychopath he is.
When the game is an hour in and the drinks have multiplied, the stakes move past money.  Finances are fun, but so are clothes.  People start upping the anti by moving to strip poker.  It was harmless at first, with socks and earrings.  You do shimmy off your bra from the inside, to assert dominance and win an extra ten dollars. Mina, having grown up in the dance world and acting as designated driver, is highly comfortable with her physique and makes big bets that leaves almost everyone pantless and penniless.  Except you.  You know Mina well enough to say that she can’t bluff for shit and folded your hand the moment she announced, “I bet pants.”  
Girl wins with a four of a kind, Queens.
Clothes starting turning into dares.  Poor Jimin has to do elephant turns while singing the national anthem. Yeonjun has to do a naked lap through the house.  Soobin can’t make eye contact with anyone or he takes a shot.  Taehyung, happily, does a body shot off of Jungkook, much to his dismay since Taehyung has shit coordination.  Jin ends up calling his mother - your aunt - and leaving her a message about what a bad boy he has been during his senior year.  You stayed relatively in the clear, except having “Kim #3” written on your forehead with Mina’s red lipstick.  
This round may change everything.  The dares are up high and the rushees are nearly passed out.  Jin, Jimin, and Mina folded from the get-go, leaving you, your brother, and Jungkook left in the hand.  Alcohol and confidence are highly correlated and you’re feeling good about this hand.  It’s the final bet, and Taehyung has put in twenty dollars, which you and Jungkook call.  
It’s your turn.  The visible cards are a 6 Spades, 8 Clubs, 10 Diamonds, King Hearts, and a Queen Diamonds.  You have 9 Diamonds and a Jack Diamonds, putting you on the table for a straight.  There’s no opportunity for a flush, so your chances of winning are high.  One of them is clearly lying.  
“I bet no sex for a month,” you shrug as munch on your last spring roll.
“Fuck that,” Taehyung says immediately, setting his cards down. The awake ones laugh at his quickness.  “No way in Hell.”
Jungkook sucks in a breath as he looks at his cards.  He rubs his chin.  “So whoever loses can’t have sex for a month?”  He reiterates.  
“Correct.”
“Must be feeling pretty confident, Kim #3,” He adds, before taking a long swig of his drink.  
You wink. “Gotta bet to find out, Jeon.”
Jungkook leans back into his chair and says, “I’ll do you one better.  If I lose, no sex for a month, plus, I won’t make a comment about us sleeping together until the end of the semester.”
You tilt your head curiously as Mina, Jimin, and Jin let out quiet Oohs.  Taehyung flicks his lighter open and lights his joint, his eyes darting between his friend and you.  Even if you won’t admit out loud, Tae knows that you do have a thing for Jungkook.  He knows, and you know, that you like the attention from Jungkook.  Everyone likes attention, especially from a boy like him.  
“Wow, self-restraint, what a concept,” you murmur sarcastically, waving your hand.  “And what happens if you win?”
Jungkook clicks his tongue.  “You throw out the rulebook for a month.”
...
“HAHAHA!” Taehyung lets out the loudest laugh ever.  Literally, all of Greek Row must’ve heard it.  Jimin and Mina giggle like gossiping school children.  Jin nearly spits out his drink.  You stare at Jungkook in horror.  
“Ohhhhh shit,” Soobin lets out drowsily, barely audible from Taehyung’s continuous laughter.  “No rules!  Can’t hide behind rules for a month.”
“What does that even mean?”  You ask hotly.  “The rulebook is an abstract concept.  How can it be thrown out?”
Jungkook smiles, proud of himself for riling you up.  “You can obviously come up with other excuses to not let yourself have some fun, like studying or sudden pious uptaking. Don’t really care.  But, for a month, you cannot outwardly refer to the rulebook.  Simple.”
“Would you make someone neglect the Bible or the Quran for a month?!”
“Are you equating your fictional sex book to the holiest texts in history?”
“No, but-!”
“Fine, fold,” Jungkook offers, drinking some more too.  He smiles brightly, like a menace on the playground.  “Lose twenty dollars and deprive yourself of sex for a month. Leave it there and be an irritable mess without sex.  You’re awful without dick-induced orgasms, as you’ve said.”
Mina nods to Jimin.  “He’s not wrong.”
“Mina!”  You shout.
“Thank you,” Jungkook nods civilly.  He looks back at you with a businessman smile.  “Or! Play the possibility that I leave you alone for a semester.  I won’t tell you how pretty you are, I won’t ask about your hook ups, and I won’t ask you to sleep with me.”
The thought of the mess from the past week ending seems nice.  You do like it when Jungkook compliments you and gives you attention, but without it, there’d be no temptation.  You would be free of the temptation of breaking your rules.  You give Jungkook a lot of power, but that’s the kind of hold this kid has on you.  
“Even if I do win,” Jungkook continues coolly, “All you have to do is just become more creative in rejecting me. Or, just give me a straight answer finally.  That’s all I want.”
“Give the man what he wants,” Yeonjun whines, leaning his head onto your shoulder.  “The wait is killing me~”
You suck your teeth as you look into Jungkook’s eyes.  They’re slightly red from the weed, and his face is a slight pink.  He’s bullshitting you, and just giving you some pretty words to rile you up and bow out.  He’s bluffing.
“Fine. But if I win, you have to squash the rumors about us going on.  I’m tired of this shit,” you say, offering your final demand.
“Bet,” Jungkook nods.
Jin clears his throat before taking a long sip.  “Okay, so if ____ wins, Jungkook stops simping over you for a semester.  And if Jungkook wins, you stop referring to the rulebook for a month.”
“Uh-huh,” you hum, not breaking eye contact with him.  
“Perfect,” Jungkook smirks.
Jin claps his hands.  “Okay, Idiots.  Show them.” 
At the same time, you and Jungkook lay your cards down on the table.  The other players watch the cards, as you and Jungkook stare at each others.  You suck in your breath at the results.
God, this week really isn’t your week, you think to yourself when you see Jungkook’s Ace and Jack demolish your 9 and Jack.  
“Higher straight wins!” Jin laughs, clapping his hands.  Taehyung lifts up Jungkook’s hand in victory.
Your family members and friends laugh with enthusiasm at your downfall.  You chug the remainder of whatever concoction is left in Soobin’s cup.  Jungkook just smiles at you.  “It’s going to be a fun month, Princess.”
“Eat shit, Jeon.”
+++
lolololol ok part 2 will be out soon~
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femsolid · 7 months ago
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"This evening, the queue was worse than usual. Far worse. Because in an almost comically blatant display of not having thought about women at all, the Barbican had turned both the male and female toilets gender neutral simply by replacing the ‘men’ and ‘women’ signage with ‘gender neutral with urinals’ and ‘gender neutral with cubicles’. The obvious happened. Only men were using the supposedly ‘gender neutral with urinals’ and everyone was using the ‘gender neutral with cubicles’. Rather than rendering the toilets actually gender neutral by this move, they had simply increased the provision for men: women are generally not able to use urinals, while men are of course able to use both urinals and cubicles. There were also no sanitary bins in the ‘gender neutral with urinals’ toilets. ‘Ah the irony of having to explain discrimination having just been to see I Am Not Your Negro IN YOUR CINEMA’, Ahmed tweeted, suggesting that the solution would be to ‘turn the gents into gender-neutral loos. There’s NEVER such a queue there & you know it.’
Although this truism seems to have passed the Barbican’s heavily male-dominated management team by, it is true that the perennial queueing problem is one that men do tend to know about – given it so often spills out of the main bathroom door, it’s hard for even the most oblivious man to miss. But fewer people – men or women – know exactly why it happens. There is a tendency (as ever) to blame the women rather than male-biased design. But malebiased design is in fact exactly what the problem is here. On the face of it, it may seem fair and equitable to accord male and female public toilets the same amount of floor space – and historically, this is the way it has been done. 50/50 division of floor space has even been formalised in plumbing codes. However, if a male toilet has both cubicles and urinals, the number of people who can relieve themselves at once is far higher per square foot of floor space in the male bathroom than in the female bathroom. Suddenly equal floor space isn’t so equal.
But even if male and female toilets had an equal number of stalls, the issue wouldn’t be resolved, because women take up to 2.3 times as long as men to use the toilet. Women make up the majority of the elderly and disabled, two groups that will tend to need more time in the toilet. Women are also more likely to be accompanied by children, as well as disabled and older people. Then there’s the 20-25% of women of childbearing age who may be on their period at any one time, and therefore needing to change a tampon or a sanitary pad. Women may also in any case require more trips to the bathroom than men: pregnancy significantly reduces bladder capacity, and women are eight times more likely to suffer from urinary-tract infections than men which again increases the frequency with which a toilet visit is needed. In the face of all these anatomical differences, it would surely take a formal (rather than substantive) equality dogmatist to continue to argue that equal floor space between men and women is fair. It gets a lot worse than supposedly equal provision being in fact male-biased. A third of the world’s population lack adequate toilet provision at all.
According to the UN, one in three women lack access to safe toilets, and WaterAid reports that girls and women collectively spend 97 billion hours a year finding a safe place to relieve themselves. The lack of adequate toilet provision is a public health problem for both sexes (for example, in India, where 60% of the population does not have access to a toilet, 90% of surface water is contaminated), but the problem is particularly acute for women, in no small part because of the attitude that men can ‘go anywhere’, while for women to be seen urinating is shameful. Women get up before dawn and then wait for hours until dusk to go out again in search of a relatively private place to urinate or defecate. And this isn’t just a problem in poor countries: Human Rights Watch spoke to young girls working in tobacco fields in America and found that they would ‘refrain from relieving themselves at all during the day – aided by avoiding drinking liquids, which increased their risk of dehydration and heat illness’. This affects women’s paid labour: women make up 91% of the 86% of Indians who work in the informal economy. Many of these women work as market vendors, and no public toilets means they have nowhere to go during the workday. In Afghanistan, female police officers go to the toilets in pairs, because their changing and toilet facilities (described by an international advisor to Human Rights Watch as ‘a site of harassment’) often have peepholes or doors which don’t lock. The lack of safe toilet provision in fact often prevents women from joining the force at all, and this in turn has had a significant impact on how the police respond to crimes against women and girls.
Despite women’s arguably greater need for public sanitary facilities, however, men are often the ones who are better provided for. More than half of Mumbai’s 5 million women do not have an indoor toilet and there are no free public toilets for women. Meanwhile, free urinals for men run into the thousands. A typical Mumbai slum might have six bathrooms for 8,000 women, and government figures from 2014 revealed that the city as a whole has ‘3,536 public restrooms that women share with men, but not a single women’s-only facility – not even in some police stations and courts’. A 2015 survey found that 12.5% of women in Mumbai’s slums defecate in the open at night: they ‘prefer to take this risk to walking 58 metres, the average distance of the community toilet from their homes’. But defecating in the open isn’t really much safer for women: there is a real danger of sexual assault from men who lurk near and on the routes to areas which are known to be used by women when they need to relieve themselves. The level of violation ranges from voyeurism (including being masturbated at) to rape – and in extreme cases, to murder.
Accurate data on the level of sexual harassment and assault faced by women as they seek to engage in what should be a mundane activity is hard to come by, in no small degree because of the shame surrounding the issue. Few women are willing to talk about something they may well be blamed for ‘encouraging’. But what data does exist makes it clear that a failure to provide adequate sanitation is a feminist issue. A 2016 study found that Indian women who use fields to relieve themselves are twice as likely to face nonpartner sexual violence as women with a household toilet. Following the 2014 murder of two girls aged twelve and fourteen in Uttar Pradesh, there was a brief flurry of national focus on the lack of adequate toilet provision for women, and in December 2014, Bombay’s high court ordered all municipal corporations to provide safe and clean toilets for women near main roads. Ninety-six potential sites were identified and Bombay’s local government promised 50 million rupees (around £550,000) to build new toilets. But a year later, reported online women’s rights magazine Broadly, not a single brick had been laid. The fund allocation lapsed in 2016.
Women get bladder and urinary-tract infections from holding in their urine; others suffer from dehydration or chronic constipation. Women who defecate outdoors are at risk of a range of infections and diseases, including pelvic inflammatory disease, worm infections, hepatitis, diarrhoea, cholera, polio and waterborne diseases. Some of these diseases kill millions of people (particularly women and children) every year in India alone. Health problems arising from a lack of public sanitary provision are not restricted to low-income countries. Canadian and British studies have revealed that referrals for urinary-tract infections, problems with distended bladders, and a range of other uro-gynaecological problems have increased proportionately to toilet closure; similarly, research shows that the chances of streptococcal toxic shock syndrome from sanitary protection are increased ‘if there are no toilets available to change tampons during menstruation’. And, increasingly, there isn’t a toilet available. A 2007 study revealed that public-toilet closure in the US has been a trend for over half a century. In the UK, 50% of public toilets were closed between 1995 and 2013 – or, as in the public toilet closest to where I live in London, converted into the proverbial hipster bar.
Urban planning that fails to account for women’s risk of being sexually assaulted is a clear violation of women’s equal right to public spaces – and inadequate sanitary provision is only one of the many ways planners exclude women with this kind of gender-insensitive design."
- Invisible Women, Caroline Criado-Perez
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Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (2)
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(c!Technoblade x fem!Reader)
(a/n: a handful of people seemed to like this story so here’s part two! same as with the first chapter, if this one gets some interest then i’ll do part 3.)
~~~~~~~~~
Like every night of sleep here you woke up after what felt like no time at all. But at least you felt rested instead of tired still. Either way, it was time to get up and have some food before fixing up this village. Which was in dire need of it from what you saw the day before.
After eating some bread you got to work scoping out the village, jotting down in a book (with a damn QUILL) what problems needed to be fixed first and which could come later. Once that was done you started evening out the land so it wasn’t one hill after another with a ton of dark spots. 
Figuring out how to just make blocks and items disappear was weird. And seeing it happen in real life time was even weirder. You just put your hand on a block or anything not alive and with a twitch of your fingers the item just… ceased to be. All you got was a quick breaking sound followed by a particle effect that lasted a half a second, then nothing. 
You got used to it. You’d have to, that’s just what humans do. Adapt.
“Hmm.”
You’d been so focused on terraforming that you’d gotten a little spooked when you suddenly heard a voice behind you. After turning around you saw some villagers watching you. You blinked and after a couple seconds of silence you said,
“Hello.”
They just watched you and gave murmurs that didn’t sound like anything negative, and you didn’t wanna make things awkward so you just went back to doing what you were before. You chalked it up to them being curious about the new person in their village changing stuff. So you gave them a smile before getting back to work. 
They stayed and watched you for a bit longer before one by one leaving to do whatever it was they’d been doing before coming to scope out what you were up to.  You figured they were just checking to see if you were dangerous or not. Which was understandable so you paid them little mind.
You got lost in the zone after that, just working diligently to smooth out the land and fill in parts of the river so it wasn’t bisecting the village and making it hard to get from one side to the other. Hours passed without you realizing, you didn’t have a hunger bar so no growling stomach to snap you back into focus either.
In the back of your mind you noticed the sun had set because you had to pull out some torches to make seeing easier. But aside from that you were oblivious to the world around you. At least you had been until the sound of pained grunts made you look up from what you were doing for the first time in nearly 10 solid hours.
Your eyes widened when you saw a villager cornered between some hay bales and the side of a house, getting attacked by a zombie. Like in the game his whole body sorta flashed a red tint to show he was taking damage. You didn’t even really think before you reacted, you just saw someone getting hurt so you yelled loudly,
“HEY!”
To your surprise the zombie halted and turned to look at you. But then seemed to disregard you and started to turn back to its violent task, intent to ignore your call and you felt just enough outrage to start rushing over, yelling at the undead as you did. This caught both zombie and villager’s attention. 
The villager edged back as you came over and started smacking the zombie back, making him grunt and stumble slowly backwards. After you dealt him a couple hearts damage he turned and shuffled away from you both. With you hurling colorful commentary at him as he slowly feld. Once he was gone you turned to the blinking villager and put your hands on your hips and scolded him,
“What are you doing?? It’s night time! Get inside and go to bed!”
The villager looked alarmed as he rushed to hop up the short steps to the house he’d previously been wedged against, hurrying inside and slamming the door closed behind him. You sighed, a little annoyed with how hard your heart was beating from the adrenaline of having to essentially break up an attack. 
With one last huff you turned and headed back to your previous task. But half way there you stopped and glanced around the village before sighing again and deciding it wouldn’t hurt to check to make sure all the other villagers were safe inside right now. 
This would become a routine for you, making sure the villagers were safe indoors after sunset.
-0-
Days turned into weeks and before you knew it you’d terraformed the land the village was on into a much more manageable and easy to navigate space. You’d even started upgrading the villager’s houses and stuff. You did this mostly because all their houses were like 3x3 inside and looked beyond cramped. 
Also you disliked cobblestone when used in the construction of Minecraft houses. It just looked ugly in your opinion and stone looks way better. So you used that and different colored terracotta and pretty lamps instead of plain torches in some spots. It all gave the village a more cozy vibe you think. But either way your construction drew the villagers’ attention once more.
The villager whose house you started with hadn’t sounded happy when you built up and began to break the roof. He’d grunted and walked around watching you but stepped back when you called down and told him you were fixing the house and making it stronger and bigger for him. He hadn’t seemed fully convinced but he didn’t sound as upset so you continued.
It was when you were putting on the roof that you discovered that you didn’t take fall damage…
You’d stepped back to put the top point of the roof in place and miscalculated how much roof was left to stand on behind you and ended up slipping off. You barely had time to register what was happening, much less scream, before you were just… standing on the ground. You looked up and saw the unfinished underside of the roof’s edge…. a good 15 feet up in the air above you…
You looked down and mentally checked yourself over and you were fine? Not a scratch or ache anywhere in your legs. Which should be the bare minimum someone should have after falling off of a nearly 2 story roof. But you were perfectly okay, and honestly… sorta curious. And at this point you were more curious than cautious so you actually went back to the edge of the roof and just.. jumped off. You were incredibly lucky the first safe fall hadn’t been a fluke..
You landed nice and soft again this time. Only now you were able to watch what happened as you fell since you were looking down and not up (or having your brain lag in fear). You fell normally at first but once you got about 3 feet from the ground you slowed before landing about as hard as if you’d taken one step downward. The wind rushed past you and fluttered your clothes but aside from that you were unaffected by the high fall.
“Well…. I suppose that’s one less thing to worry about?” you sort of stated with a questioning tone because honestly you’re just trying to roll with the punches at this point.
-0-
You noticed there were only TWO profession blocks in the whole village, a farmer compositor and the weaponsmith’s grindstone. Which wasn’t great village wise you were sure. So you started to just… add professions to pre-existing houses. Like one house you converted into a two story with a balcony and added a library and lectern to it before bringing a villager over and showing them. 
Honestly you weren’t totally sure they would be interested but to your delight their clothes changed after they were surrounded by some green sparkles, signaling they’d taken up the role of ‘Librarian’! You clapped happily and said this was great, to which the villager responded with a happy sound. You left them to their studies and went to add more job site blocks!
-0-
You’re not sure how much time passed since you’d found this village. But you can say it definitely looked different these days, in a good way. You’d renovated (or outright remodeled) all the homes and now each villager had a job. Well, except for one who, for whatever reason, didn’t want any of the jobs. You’d tried showing him each option and he just gave unhappy grunts for each one. 
Finally you’d asked if he wanted a job and he gave a negative ‘hrm’. So you’d figured it was his choice at the end of the day so you shrugged and got rid of the career blocks and told him that was okay. You told him his job could be to Not have a job! And he seemed perfectly content with that so you just left his home a regular one and went about your day. So really, a happy ending for everyone.
And once the village was all set looking nice and prosperous you finally stopped and realized… you’d never made yourself a house? Though to be fair you’d sort of hyper focused on building up the village and all the villager’s professional skills so you’d not had much time to think about yourself. And now that you think about it.. you’re not sure when the last time you ate or slept was.. Like, at all! Which would be concerning if you were starving or about to pass out but you mostly felt normal? You could eat or go for a nap but you could also just.. not? And you’d be okay you think.
“This is all super weird.. I need to go to sleep I think…” you sort of mumbled to yourself.
You looked around and noted the time of day, which meant no sleep yet. Then you surveyed the large village and noticed a nice hill one of the four main crossroad paths in the village was leading towards. It was too far away for any more villager houses so you’d left it alone in your building spree. But now that you were walking around it you saw it would be a great spot for a place of your own! All you had to do was remove a couple trees, widen the top layer of dirt and move the path a little to the left and you’d be golden.
But you were pretty much sick of looking at oak logs, grey stone bricks, and terracotta so you decided to forgo using them in whatever design you settled on for your house. Instead you open your ‘expanded’ inventory of all the building blocks and began looking through them idly, searching for something nice looking that wasn’t too bland or contrary too flashy. Like sure a diamond block house SOUNDS cool and also very pretty but actually making a house out of diamond blocks seems like it’s just asking for trouble.
You couldn’t help the chuckle you let out at the thought of someone actually building a house of diamond then going mining or whatever and coming back to their whole house being gone save for their bed. But you pushed those silly thoughts away and finally ended up choosing some quartz stone for now. It was a good looking stone, nice and smooth. As you looked through the other blocks you thought about what your house should look like. You didn’t want to build any more of the standard villager houses at this point, you were sorta burnt out on that. 
Vaguely you recalled a handful of house and building tutorials you’d watched on youtube. But honestly it's been such a long time since you watched them that you really only remembered the final products. Although you reason that that shouldn’t stop you from trying anyways! Because what’s the worst that will happen? It’ll look ugly? Then you can just take it down and try try again! You’d start building slow and see what you liked and what looked cool. 
So with that decided you grabbed one of the quartz blocks and some stairs to match then got to work on your new house.
@salinesoot​ @lady-bee-fechin​ @kacchasu​ @putridjoy​ @lunawritesstories​ @galaxypankitty3030​ @paradigmax​ @zachariethememerie​ @killmewithafanfic​
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This old schoolmaster’s house is costume designer Ingrid’s country escape from her city home in Sydney, Australia. I love the vintage style. Here, the house was still a work in progress, as she sampled different paint colors. 
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B/c of the history of the house, Ingrid collects vintage school items. She looks online for educational charts and school rules, etc. The two school bells were the start of the collection.
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She likes a mix of high and low, rough and smooth. The oil painting was found at an auction, the bench is made from old bricks and a leftover rug is from a bar she designed in Mexico.
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The sun room, was a major addition to the house. The colored glass windows are salvaged and the trim is matched to the original schoolmaster’s gray.
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Faded florals just work in the country and she raided her mother’s 30-plus-year-old collection of fabrics.
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This is her garden journal where she records all the plants she’s put in and how to care for them. She painted the plant names on bits of old slate roof tiles to use as markers instead of plastic tags.
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A beautiful tree peony in the “Opium Den” bedroom. The bay window is customized with a window seat and Chinese doors. The room was left in its original color.
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After searching for a country-style washbasin, Ingrid ended up making this from an old table and a double sink from Ikea. She also loves beautiful old typography and is always on the lookout for old crates.
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This wallpaper is from the U.S. Ingrid’s seen nearly all of these birds in the garden outside and loves making indoor/outdoor connections.
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The Parrot Bedroom. She chose white bedspreads and sheets, calming and refreshing after a long 4 hr. country drive.
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It’s not all Aussie bush lore — Elvis makes a great soundtrack for the Old Schoolmaster’s House.
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Ingrid installed the checkerboard tiles, a great part of country vernacular. The chintz curtain is from her mother’s cupboard, and the round stool is from Nepal, made of a tire.
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The home is built in the “Federation” style, very typical of Australian houses from that era. The woodwork was left in the original green and red.
http://www.designsponge.com/
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canary3d-obsessed · 8 months ago
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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 19, part one
(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)
Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!
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Chilling in Yiling
We start off with Wei Wuxian hanging out in a busy area of Yiling, which is a really dumb place to pick for a fugitive rendezvous.  
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He's wearing a fashionably distressed brown robe, and a woven disguise hat, that makes him invisible to his enemies until the moment he takes it off, kinda like the mask he wears in his second life. Unfortunately he is a polite boi so he takes off the disguise hat when he goes indoors to get a bite to eat, and promptly gets smacked down by Wen Zhuliu. 
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Xiao Zhan's stunt double is really good at this wire-pull+table-smash move; this is the second time Wei Wuxian goes crashing through a table (the first one being when Yu Ziyuan was beating him). This time he clutches his now core-less abdomen, in a move we're going to be seeing a lot of, going forward. Abdominal surgery is a bitch. OP can personally attest to this.
Wen Zhuliu provides some comic relief by looking at his hand in puzzlement; he clearly can tell Wei Wuxian has no golden core, but he isn't going to bother telling Wen Chao that.
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Wen Chao gloats and steps on Wei Wuxian's hand while Wei Wuxian stares at his shoe and OP wonders, not for the first time, how they make rubberized zig-zag treads in Ancient Fantasy China.
(more after the cut)
This is all happening in the Yiling Wine house where Wei Wuxian will later share the most important meal of his life, the one in which A-Yuan lays claim to Lan Wangji, ultimately giving LWJ a reason to live long enough for Wei Wuxian to be resurrected. If that doesn’t deserve a good Yelp review, nothing does. 
Dream a Little Dream of Me
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While Wei Wuxian gets ready for his big whump scene, Jiang Cheng is dreaming, and looking absolutely breathtaking in this deceptively simple robe, that's made of a really complex fabric, that catches the light all over its surface.  The lighting here is warm and romantic, giving everything a nostalgic glow.
He looks around the courtyard in his dream, and sees Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian come running in the gate carrying kites. 
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A child fetching a kite was the first casualty of the Wen attack on Lotus Pier, so this image may already be a little fraught for Jiang Cheng. In this initial image of his family, Jiang Cheng isn't present as a child, but then his junior self comes running up, to be warmly greeted by his mother.
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Jiang Cheng's reaction to the scene playing out in front of him is not a simple one. We've seen him externally expressing his trauma at the fate of Lotus Pier and his family - his anger and his despair - and this dream shows us his private, interior trauma. 
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His body has been repaired by Wei Wuxian and the Wens, but his psyche has not.
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This family interaction can't possibly be one that ever happened. It's too lively, too affectionate, too comfortable. The family he was part of as a young adult was cold, angry, cracked.  Families don't change that much in 10 years, unless there's a major trauma that alters things in a fundamental way.
Even the glimpses we got of his childhood contradict this image. This warm group is not the family of "I sent your dogs away" or "wait in the cold until Jiang Cheng lets you in" or "I won't tell Clan Leader Jiang what happened" or "I'm only 11 but I'm in charge of soup and bedtime already"
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Jiang Cheng smiles at the affection he sees enacted in front of him, but quickly moves to grief. When a toxic person dies, you don't just lose the relationship you had with them; you lose the hope for a better relationship. Perhaps Jiang Cheng has always imagined this version of his family; now nothing like it can ever come to be.
The pleasant scene vanishes into nightmare, as his mother starts bleeding from her eyes, ew. This is like Nie Mingjue when he qi deviates, but dream Yu Ziyuan is perfectly chill about it. 
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Jiang Cheng is not perfectly chill about it. 
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He turns around to see Lotus Pier burning. When he turns back, his family has been replaced with Wen Zhuliu, who is particularly gleeful as he reaches into Jiang Cheng's chest and melts his core.
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Jiang Cheng wakes up on the mountain, alone (as far as he knows), and quickly stands and boots up his new golden core.
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It's purple, because of course it is. King. The nightmare is gone and he smiles, maybe for the first time since the attack on the pier.
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In a moment that is probably going to feel really embarrassing in hindsight, he kneels and bows toward the mountaintops to thank Baoshan Sanren, who is totally not there. 
Wen Ning, on the other hand, is there, although we only see a little bit of his belt and robe as Jiang Cheng walks off to Yiling to meet his brother.  This entire plotline walks a very weird line in which the audience is told just enough about what’s really happening to be confused, but not surprised.
Do the Whumpty Whump
After some initial roughing up, Wen Chao has his dudes stand Wei Wuxian up so he can question him without actually getting any information out of him at all. They take turns calling each other dogs, with Wei Wuxian saying that when Wen Chao talks he just hears a dog barking. (Of course if he really heard a dog barking he'd be terrified) 
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Then he says "isn't that right" to Wang Lingjiao, and Wen Chao gets super pissed; don't disrespect me to my woman. 
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He has his minions do a Nancy Kerrigan to Wei Wuxian's knee and then kick him for a while.
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Then they kick the shit out of the camera operator.
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Wen Chao is really not about fighting his own fights.  He also keeps threatening to have Wen Zhuliu melt Wei Wuxian's core, and Wen Zhuliu keeps popping up his hand and then putting it back when Wen Chao changes his mind, which gets more hilarious every time I watch it. Feng Mingjing’s physical embodiment of Wen Zhuliu is endlessly entertaining, even in scenes where he has literally no lines. 
I Ain’t Afraid of No Ghost
Wei Wuxian continues to goad Wen Chao, telling him that more torture is good because then he'll die with loads of resentment. He says that after he dies, he will come back as a ferocious ghost, which is...almost exactly what happens, except he stays alive for the ferocious part. 
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They go back and forth about the feasibility of this whole haunting plan. Wang Lingjiao is the voice of reason, for once, arguing the "ghosts aren't real and anyway fuck this guy" position.
Wen Chao thinks that he can’t haunt them because of cultivator security hardening procedures soul-calming rituals, but Wei Wuxian wasn't born into a gentry family so didn't have the anti-fierce-ghost treatment that other cultivators get.
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This is the only time in the whole of the show when Wei Wuxian says, himself, that he's the son of a servant. He's using his reputation as a commoner to bolster his threats. 
Wei Wuxian is working hard to put on a scary-guy persona, which works pretty well on Wang Lingjiao but not as much on the rest of the group. Three months from this time, however, he will have become the scary, vengeful creature he's currently spitballing about.  He will also become way, way better at torture than the people who are currently mistreating him. 
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Wang Lingjiao and Wen Chao go through a whole sequence of ideas about what to do with him. For whatever reason Wang Lingjiao doesn't insist on chopping his arm off even though she's been craving it for ages. 
She does gleefully burn his burn some more, causing it to bleed directly into the giant obvious bag he has hanging from his belt leaking resentful energy. Which the Wens do not take away or search.
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Wen Chao, incidentally, starts calling him Wei Ying during this encounter, which is rude of him. Tch.  Finally Wen Chao decides on a plan, which involves sword-flying effects so terrible that no soul can survive them.
Jiang Cheng is looking for Wei Wuxian in town, wearing a woven hat like Wei Wuxian’s.  This...is not a disguise. If you want to be inconspicuous, maybe take that giant piece of silver off of your head.
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He hears random people talking about the Wens being in town, and then he apparently looks up at the sky and sees the Wen dudes flying on their swords with Wei Wuxian, but it looks so ridiculous that Jiang Cheng's mind cannot process what he is seeing.
While they "fly," Wen Chao delivers a massive brick of exposition about the burial mounds, while Wei Wuxian looks genuinely frightened. The VFX of random, undifferentiated mountaintops and clouds do nothing to sell this menace, but the exposition is actually pretty good, creating a real sense of disturbance and threat.
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Then they toss him in, and we go from the terrible VFX of sword flying to a visual effect that they mercifully did really well throughout the show - the black resentment smoke. This time it catches Wei Wuxian and holds him for a few moments, before dropping him the rest of the way to the ground. It also apparently pulls the turtle sword out of his belt bag, but we don't see that part.
They Say That Every Man Must Fall
Having seen Wei Wuxian at his lowest point (so far) and dream Jiang Cheng also in deep distress, we go to the Dafan Wen sibs, who have also reached a breaking point. Because they helped Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, they are traitors to their clan - unquestionably so - and are being punished for it, with Wen Ning having been tortured in addition to being locked up.
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I see my light come shining From the west down to the east Any day now, any day now I shall be released
You know how Lan Xichen successfully argued for Wen-Clan-Member Meng Yao's life and status, because Meng Yao betrayed Wen Ruohan to help them? Even though Meng Yao killed a bunch of Nie guys? Wen Ning and Wen Qing also betrayed Wen Ruohan and helped the Sunshot Campaign, without killing a bunch of guys. They should have been treated as allies by the four other clans, but they got diddly.  
I’ve Been Dead Once
We return to Wei Wuxian in the burial grounds, where he's lying on the ground surrounded by resentful energy and by strained, desperate voices calling his name. This whole sequence is remarkable, since it effectively communicates the horror he's experiencing, through little more than Xiao Zhan's face and good sound design.
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I hang around dying to be tortured  You'll never be alone in the bone orchard
The voices call four versions of his name. A variety of voices call him Wei Wuxian, Wei Gongzi, and Shixiong, which (I think) is what the young Jiang disciples would have called him. And in the midst of those voices, Lan Wangji's voice, low and calm, saying "Wei Ying." Upon hearing that Wei Wuxian starts to drag himself up.
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For a show with definitely no zombies in it, they sure do use the visual language of zombie films for Wei Wuxian's first motions after hitting the ground. Starting with twitching fingers, then gradually pulling himself halfway up and crawling, lurching across the ground. Wei Wuxian comes slowly back to life, the very first member of his army of the dead.
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He makes his way across the ground toward the floating turtle sword. Along the way he accidentally grabs the world's most bowlegged thigh bone; the lack of sunshine in the burial mounds puts the skeletons at risk for rickets.  All of the skeletons in the show are exactly what you would expect from the practical effects team that made the demon hand and the animatronic dog.
The turtle sword is roiling with resentful energy, and is talking to Wei Wuxian as he crawls toward it, asking if he wants revenge. And what a coincidence, he DOES want revenge. 
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He grabs the sword and plunges it into the ground in an explosion of resentful energy. (Ground: why you gotta take it out on me?)
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The sequence ends with the most compelling, ominous shot of Wei Wuxian's face...a new man. 
Soundtrack: 1. I Shall Be Released by Bob Dylan 2. Beyond Belief by Elvis Costello  
Writing Prompt: The Day Wei Wuxian arrived, from the POV of a Burial Mounds ghost. 
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luvnami · 4 months ago
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𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬!
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - aa my first time writing for kny!! i hope you like it~ the title is a play on the word ‘pillars’ lol hopefully that makes sense... enjoy!! likes, comments and reblogs really help me a lot <3
𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - @/amjustagirl​ (muacks)
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - mention of food
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - what if the pillars were... cats?
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𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐠𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐢
- the CHONKIEST fella you’ve ever seen in your entire life
- seriously, this cat feels like a brick when you try to pick him up
- yes, his fur is dense. no, he does not get any skinnier when he’s matted down with water
- a lovely, calm cat abandoned by his previous owners because they were moving out of the country
- he loves lazing in the sun and his brown fur turns golden in it!!!
- is a lap cat but doesn’t understand that your legs turn numb way too fast when he’s purring away like a little truck motor 
- (his purrs are so deep……. put him on an asmr youtube channel already!!!!)
- once, you had a dream that you were drowning. you found him sleeping on your chest when you woke up gasping for air
- broke a flimsy cat tree once and is now terrified of heights 
- a big baby :( kind of needy, always welcomes you at the door when you come home with chirps and gets frisky when you don’t return till late
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𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢
- …
- the quiet cat that seems like it might murder you in your sleep
- you adopted him together with kanroji because he simply wouldn’t leave her side and wouldn’t leave your side so… yeah
- this cat HATED you at first
- like… he even refused to eat the food that you tried to give him :/// you had to lure him out with some churu 
- you once woke up in the middle of the night because you were thirsty and found two glowy things at your bedroom door
- yeah, he was staring at you while you slept
- you didn’t dare to get a glass of water and just went back to sleep
- dark gray short fur with heterochromia! you think that he might be kanroji’s sibling but the centre said that they came in at different times
- he goes crazy for catnip oh my goodness
- he rolls himself in it and purrs so LOUD……….. ok iguro……..
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𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢
- so! affectionate!
- you adopted her from a local centre… seriously, who abandoned this pretty baby!!!!!!!
- (iguro insisted on being adopted as well. they come in a pair, do not separate.)
- is a white short fur with heterochromia <333 she looks so magical omg
- when you visited the adoption centre, she wouldn’t stop meowing and curling herself around your legs
- how could you not take her home!!!!!
- she tries to steal all kinds of food (even yours). please don’t own any plants, she will try to chomp them as well
- one time you came back home and heard some loud rustling from the door. you were terrified that it was a thief but when you switched on the lights, the cat had somehow managed to raid your pantry :/
- loves loves loves cuddles!! will even let you touch her soft tummy and play with her toe beans (only for a while though!)
- you wish she’d stop jumping around and getting into the hardest to reach spots…….
- loves trying out new collars, toys and even outfits!
- grooms iguro a lot and loves playing with him <3
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𝐤𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐮
- y’all know the cats that play nice when you’re petting them and then bite your hand immediately after… yeah
- the childhood cat that gives you trauma after it scratched you one too many times
- but very lovable and social!! loves meeting new people and then giving you a smug look as she crawls into their lap
- is not tempted by treats… she will do a trick when she wants to
- siamese, brown to white with a tail that flicks too much when she’s irritated
- this cat pushes your glass of water off of the table while looking you in the eye
- will lay herself over your keyboard when you’re trying to work
- has and will chew up your socks again
- scratches your furniture even after you sprayed it with that ‘no-scratch’ spray
- HOWEVER she will occasionally let you scritch her chin when she feels amiable…….
- tries to groom you sometimes
- jumps around too much for her (and your) own good. has caused the shattering of many things and now you cannot place fragile objects on shelves
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𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨
- the most!! active and happy tabby cat you’ve ever seen!!!!! 
- meow! meow meow meow!
- man i have no idea what you’re saying rengoku but you look happy and adorable so have a treat
- probably a family cat that your dad brought back home (much to mom’s dismay) but he’s part of the family now
- VERY vocal at night no matter how much you try to tire him out in the day… rip 
- will wake you up because! human! it is night time and my water bowl is an inch out of place!
- has the most gorgeous coat ever… really. it’s an envy for many cat owners
- he struts around with his head in the air and demands many pets from you while yowling and pawing your leg
- loves outdoor walks, actually. will attack a dog on sight if given the chance so please keep him on a leash
- give him little booties to keep his paws clean!!!!!!!! he fell over the first time you put them on but now he’s used to it and he looks so cute omg
- very nurturing!! takes to other cats very easily and is a joy to have around if you’re fostering other animals (besides dogs)
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𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢
- this bastard cat
- hisses if you pat him for too long
- hisses if you don’t give him attention
- hisses while you’re pouring out his food and will NOT hesitate to bite you
- if you touch his paw pads, you can goodbye to your fingers
- i’m thinking……. gray shorthair with green eyes!
- probably a stray cat that you took in (which came with a lot of coaxing, snacks and wrangling) who got into one too many fights 
- he took a while to get used to staying indoors, often hiding in obscure places and was oddly possessive of your sofa
- no, he did not let you sit on it for a whole month
- he’s very protective and territorial! when he’s feeling like it, he’ll rub against you and get into your closet to curl up and scent your clothes (getting fur all over them)
- once, when you had some friends over, you had to lock him in your bedroom because he wouldn’t stop snarling at them
- no one dares to come over to your place after that
- (he’s secretly addicted to butt pats)
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𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨
- black shorthair that literally appeared in your house one day
- you have no idea where he came from but you let him stay for a few days and he’s never left since then
- sometimes, he wanders outside (while chasing a butterfly or something...) but always comes back in time for dinner
- has the clearest emerald eyes!!
- he’s so quiet oh my goodness. you swear you’ve never heard him meow or chirp or purr once………. you think he might be a ghost cat sometimes 
- moves around silently too. has scared you on more than one occasion when you turned around and found him staring at you, or felt something furry brush against your leg while you weren’t expecting it
- doesn’t initiate affection much but will let you pet and smother him with love!! he kinda just… chills lol
- loves snuggling in the warmest places! sometimes you’ll come home and find a suspicious bump under your covers… lift it and you might find a friend within <3
- hates hate hates collars
- will literally bat at you if you ever try to put one on him
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𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐮
- loves water so much its crazy
- you have to lock your bathroom door because he’s somehow managed to figure out how to open the doors in your house
- like, he’ll actually jump into the shower with you 
- you brought him home one day when you found him as a kitten in the rain outside :c (ur the hot anime character now)
- he’s really quiet! rarely meows and prefers to headbutt you (which can be slightly inconvenient, like that one time you were pouring coffee and nearly scalded the both of you)
- his fur is always messy. sticks up everywhere no matter how much you try to brush it
- black fur of medium length and thickness!!! puffs up SO MUCH when winter comes though
- it’s insane, he looks like a ball of soot
- exceptionally fast. when you try to play fetch with him, all you’ll see is a black blur darting back and forth
- easily scared
- you have to be careful when rounding corners or petting him because if he doesn’t expect it he’ll jump like five feet in the air
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𝐮𝐳𝐮𝐢 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧
- if you do not change his collars or outfits at least once a week or brush him daily he will start yowling
- you decided to adopt him after your neighbour moved to an apartment that didn’t allow cats
- unfortunately, your neighbour was also the most outrageously extravagant person you’ve ever met and spoiled uzui too much
- a good chunk of your monthly spending goes to the cat
- will not eat cheap cat food (how can he tell the difference…?)
- occasionally buries himself in the back of your closet because it’s dark and smells like you but please help me i’m entangled in a scarf and can’t get out!
- loves posing for photographs and being cooed over!! if you run an instagram account for him you’ll be sure to get popular really quickly
- he just… knows the camera is there lol
- hates having his nails clipped omg
- he will run around the house just to escape you and will only be bribed by a fancy new outfit or a churu
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taiyaaki · 4 months ago
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𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬!
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - aa my first time writing for kny!! i hope you like it~ the title is a play on the word ‘pillars’ lol hopefully that makes sense... enjoy!! likes, comments and reblogs really help me a lot <3 (repost from my other blog!)
𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - @/amjustagirl​ (muacks)
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - mention of food
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - what if the pillars were... cats?
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𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐠𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐢
- the CHONKIEST fella you’ve ever seen in your entire life
- seriously, this cat feels like a brick when you try to pick him up
- yes, his fur is dense. no, he does not get any skinnier when he’s matted down with water
- a lovely, calm cat abandoned by his previous owners because they were moving out of the country
- he loves lazing in the sun and his brown fur turns golden in it!!!
- is a lap cat but doesn’t understand that your legs turn numb way too fast when he’s purring away like a little truck motor 
- (his purrs are so deep……. put him on an asmr youtube channel already!!!!)
- once, you had a dream that you were drowning. you found him sleeping on your chest when you woke up gasping for air
- broke a flimsy cat tree once and is now terrified of heights 
- a big baby :( kind of needy, always welcomes you at the door when you come home with chirps and gets frisky when you don’t return till late
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𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢
- …
- the quiet cat that seems like it might murder you in your sleep
- you adopted him together with kanroji because he simply wouldn’t leave her side and wouldn’t leave your side so… yeah
- this cat HATED you at first
- like… he even refused to eat the food that you tried to give him :/// you had to lure him out with some churu 
- you once woke up in the middle of the night because you were thirsty and found two glowy things at your bedroom door
- yeah, he was staring at you while you slept
- you didn’t dare to get a glass of water and just went back to sleep
- dark gray short fur with heterochromia! you think that he might be kanroji’s sibling but the centre said that they came in at different times
- he goes crazy for catnip oh my goodness
- he rolls himself in it and purrs so LOUD……….. ok iguro……..
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𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢
- so! affectionate!
- you adopted her from a local centre… seriously, who abandoned this pretty baby!!!!!!!
- (iguro insisted on being adopted as well. they come in a pair, do not separate.)
- is a white short fur with heterochromia <333 she looks so magical omg
- when you visited the adoption centre, she wouldn’t stop meowing and curling herself around your legs
- how could you not take her home!!!!!
- she tries to steal all kinds of food (even yours). please don’t own any plants, she will try to chomp them as well
- one time you came back home and heard some loud rustling from the door. you were terrified that it was a thief but when you switched on the lights, the cat had somehow managed to raid your pantry :/
- loves loves loves cuddles!! will even let you touch her soft tummy and play with her toe beans (only for a while though!)
- you wish she’d stop jumping around and getting into the hardest to reach spots…….
- loves trying out new collars, toys and even outfits!
- grooms iguro a lot and loves playing with him <3
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𝐤𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐮
- y’all know the cats that play nice when you’re petting them and then bite your hand immediately after… yeah
- the childhood cat that gives you trauma after it scratched you one too many times
- but very lovable and social!! loves meeting new people and then giving you a smug look as she crawls into their lap
- is not tempted by treats… she will do a trick when she wants to
- siamese, brown to white with a tail that flicks too much when she’s irritated
- this cat pushes your glass of water off of the table while looking you in the eye
- will lay herself over your keyboard when you’re trying to work
- has and will chew up your socks again
- scratches your furniture even after you sprayed it with that ‘no-scratch’ spray
- HOWEVER she will occasionally let you scritch her chin when she feels amiable…….
- tries to groom you sometimes
- jumps around too much for her (and your) own good. has caused the shattering of many things and now you cannot place fragile objects on shelves
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𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐤𝐮 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨
- the most!! active and happy tabby cat you’ve ever seen!!!!! 
- meow! meow meow meow!
- man i have no idea what you’re saying rengoku but you look happy and adorable so have a treat
- probably a family cat that your dad brought back home (much to mom’s dismay) but he’s part of the family now
- VERY vocal at night no matter how much you try to tire him out in the day… rip 
- will wake you up because! human! it is night time and my water bowl is an inch out of place!
- has the most gorgeous coat ever… really. it’s an envy for many cat owners
- he struts around with his head in the air and demands many pets from you while yowling and pawing your leg
- loves outdoor walks, actually. will attack a dog on sight if given the chance so please keep him on a leash
- give him little booties to keep his paws clean!!!!!!!! he fell over the first time you put them on but now he’s used to it and he looks so cute omg
- very nurturing!! takes to other cats very easily and is a joy to have around if you’re fostering other animals (besides dogs)
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𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢
- this bastard cat
- hisses if you pat him for too long
- hisses if you don’t give him attention
- hisses while you’re pouring out his food and will NOT hesitate to bite you
- if you touch his paw pads, you can goodbye to your fingers
- i’m thinking……. gray shorthair with green eyes!
- probably a stray cat that you took in (which came with a lot of coaxing, snacks and wrangling) who got into one too many fights 
- he took a while to get used to staying indoors, often hiding in obscure places and was oddly possessive of your sofa
- no, he did not let you sit on it for a whole month
- he’s very protective and territorial! when he’s feeling like it, he’ll rub against you and get into your closet to curl up and scent your clothes (getting fur all over them)
- once, when you had some friends over, you had to lock him in your bedroom because he wouldn’t stop snarling at them
- no one dares to come over to your place after that
- (he’s secretly addicted to butt pats)
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𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨
- black shorthair that literally appeared in your house one day
- you have no idea where he came from but you let him stay for a few days and he’s never left since then
- sometimes, he wanders outside (while chasing a butterfly or something...) but always comes back in time for dinner
- has the clearest emerald eyes!!
- he’s so quiet oh my goodness. you swear you’ve never heard him meow or chirp or purr once………. you think he might be a ghost cat sometimes 
- moves around silently too. has scared you on more than one occasion when you turned around and found him staring at you, or felt something furry brush against your leg while you weren’t expecting it
- doesn’t initiate affection much but will let you pet and smother him with love!! he kinda just… chills lol
- loves snuggling in the warmest places! sometimes you’ll come home and find a suspicious bump under your covers… lift it and you might find a friend within <3
- hates hate hates collars
- will literally bat at you if you ever try to put one on him
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𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐮
- loves water so much its crazy
- you have to lock your bathroom door because he’s somehow managed to figure out how to open the doors in your house
- like, he’ll actually jump into the shower with you 
- you brought him home one day when you found him as a kitten in the rain outside :c (ur the hot anime character now)
- he’s really quiet! rarely meows and prefers to headbutt you (which can be slightly inconvenient, like that one time you were pouring coffee and nearly scalded the both of you)
- his fur is always messy. sticks up everywhere no matter how much you try to brush it
- black fur of medium length and thickness!!! puffs up SO MUCH when winter comes though
- it’s insane, he looks like a ball of soot
- exceptionally fast. when you try to play fetch with him, all you’ll see is a black blur darting back and forth
- easily scared
- you have to be careful when rounding corners or petting him because if he doesn’t expect it he’ll jump like five feet in the air
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𝐮𝐳𝐮𝐢 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧
- if you do not change his collars or outfits at least once a week or brush him daily he will start yowling
- you decided to adopt him after your neighbour moved to an apartment that didn’t allow cats
- unfortunately, your neighbour was also the most outrageously extravagant person you’ve ever met and spoiled uzui too much
- a good chunk of your monthly spending goes to the cat
- will not eat cheap cat food (how can he tell the difference…?)
- occasionally buries himself in the back of your closet because it’s dark and smells like you but please help me i’m entangled in a scarf and can’t get out!
- loves posing for photographs and being cooed over!! if you run an instagram account for him you’ll be sure to get popular really quickly
- he just… knows the camera is there lol
- hates having his nails clipped omg
- he will run around the house just to escape you and will only be bribed by a fancy new outfit or a churu
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ukulelekatie · 20 days ago
I’m moving to Boston in a couple of days, is there anything you’d suggest putting on my list to see?
Hi! Sorry it took me so long to answer this, I just moved as well and as you may have experienced already, moving in the Boston area this time of year is hell. But now that I’m (mostly) physically and emotionally recovered from the chaos...
Welcome! There are tons of things to see and do in Boston. Bear in mind that some of these places might be closed or at limited capacity due to Covid, but as of September 2021 the city is mostly open—just don’t forget your mask if you’re going somewhere indoors!
Indoor:
Museum of Fine Arts Boston - My happy place! The MFA is huge and always has something new every time I visit. I recently went to their Monet exhibit and highly recommend it if you have a chance to see it before it ends in October.
Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum - This is a smaller, more laid back, but just as lovely art museum with a rich and interesting history. There's a gorgeous courtyard in the center of it as well!
Museum of Science - Honestly super enjoyable for all ages! They also have a planetarium.
New England Aquarium - They have penguins. What’s not to love?
Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) - You might be sensing a pattern here. Yet another art museum! If you prefer contemporary art, this is the place to go.
The Mapparium - Located inside the Christian Science Plaza, this is a giant glass globe depicting a map from 1935 that you can go inside.
Trident Booksellers & Cafe - This place is my go-to for books, gifts, and occasionally brunch. They also host tons of fun events, like Skip The Small Talk, Rocky Horror Shadowcast performances, and even Speed Dating! I went to a Queer Lady Board Game Speed Dating/Friending event there and it was suuuuper fun.
Outdoor:
The Freedom Trail - This is a tour of historic landmarks around the city. You can follow the brick path on your own, or catch a tour, guided by a reenactor in historical costume.
Fenway Park - Even if you don't go for a game, you can take a tour of the park. Definitely would recommend if you're a sports fan.
The North End - Beautiful neighborhood for strolling around, lots of Italian restaurants and bakeries. Mike’s Pastry gets a lot of hype, but I prefer Bova’s Bakery. Bricco Panetteria also has fantastic bread if you can find it ;)
Haymarket - Speaking of food, there’s a pretty large open air produce market that happens on weekends. Gotta beat those expensive grocery story produce prices!
Boston Common & Boston Public Garden - The Common is the oldest public park in the United States! My favorite thing to do in this area is bring takeout from restaurants in nearby Chinatown and have a picnic.
Duck Tours - A fun way to get to know the city! They drive you through the streets of Boston and then into the water.
Quincy Market/Faneuil Hall - Pretty touristy, but honestly kind of a rite of passage.
Seaport - Another nice area to walk around, especially if you like the ocean and/or seafood. Also, it’s home to the Boston Tea Party Museum. I’ve never been, but it looks fun—they let you throw tea into the harbor.
Cambridge/Somerville - Please don’t pahk yah cah in Hahvahd Yahd, but feel free to stroll around Harvard Square! Davis Square is nice too
Newbury Street - A classic tbh. This street is where you’ll find the aforementioned Trident, along with the original Newbury Comics and plenty of other stores.
The Esplanade - This path stretches along the Charles River and is great for walking, jogging, and cycling at all times of the year. I once saw a dude on a bicycle take a little detour to ride on the frozen river. Gave me a mini heart attack but boy was it entertaining. There’s also the Hatch Shell, an outdoor concert venue. They’re all the rage these days!
Leaf Peeping - Keep this in mind for a few weeks from now! Within the city, Beacon Hill has some really nice places to walk around and enjoy fall foliage. If you wanna get out of the city for a nature walk, try driving or taking the Orange Line up to Middlesex Fells Reservation.
Well, that’s all I can think of for now! Sorry most of these suggestions were kinda touristy, but the majority of my time living here has been during the pandemic so I haven’t quite had the chance to explore off the beaten path yet. If any other Bostonians have ideas, drop ‘em in the notes!
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hdlynnslibrary · 7 months ago
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Summer Rain & Honeysuckle
Pairing: Modern Blacksmith!Pero Tovar x Fem!Reader Warnings: Toothrotting fluff, not beta read we die like mne Words: 1.3k Tags: Valentine’s Day Fluff, First Kisses, Living History Museum!AU, Grumpy Pero with a soft center, Fluff, like it feels a bit like a hallmark movie tbh, gentle!Pero
Combined prompts from @pikemoreno​ and a sweet anon wanting some soft!Pero <3
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The summer season could be one of the worst times to be working at a place where many of the attractions were located either outside or you had to walk outside to get to them. Thankfully most of the indoor areas, such as the wig maker, the apothecary, and the like had the modern wonders of ac so you and your tour groups could recover if it was sweltering outside.
How Pero could stand the heat plus also be working at the forge you had no idea. You found it hard enough to give that section of the tour when it was that hot out for there was no AC in his building at all. It honest to god felt like the metal wasn’t the only thing melting when you were in there and it sadly wasn’t because of the sweat-damp shirt clinging to Pero’s shoulders or the way his hair got wet and started to curl even more in the humidity, though that was a nice little bonus to be sure.
The one nice thing about summer though? When your shift was done it was still daylight out and you knew that Pero would be waiting for you to walk past the street his workshop was located on your way back to the main employee building to clock out and the like.
It didn’t matter how hot, damp, or sweaty you felt, every single time you saw him waiting for you made your heart flutter. Or how the way his lips quirked in the ghost of a gentle smile that was really more in his eyes than anywhere else? He looked at you that way every single time and today was no exception.
“Finally,” he said as you found your steps lightening as you drew closer. “I was worried you wouldn’t make it before the storm.”
“Storm?” You asked. “I didn’t have a chance to check the weather this morning, is it supposed to rain?”
He quirked a dark brow at you in amusement. Rather than answer you verbally, Pero took you by the shoulders and carefully turned you around until you were looking back the way you had come. Behind you the sky was a dark roiling grey, the mass of clouds moving fast and you could see the haze of rain not that far off.
“Oh shit,” you laughed out in surprise. “I didn’t even notice.”
“It’s a bit of a cool front, going to make a real mess of things colliding with the warm humid weather we’ve been having,” Pero explained as you both started off.
Even so, you could smell the change in the wind that was blowing instantly at your backs. It caused your skirts and petticoats to swirl around your legs, threatening to tangle you up as the scent of petrichor grew strong. The dampness in the air causing the walkways in the different gardens to start smelling of the ocean since they were lined with the white crushed shells of oysters.
A low rolling rumble of thunder made you jump and Pero’s hand shot out to steady you.
“You both glanced back as you heard the pounding of rain start to come down and you could literally see the leading edge of the storm moving quickly towards you.
Pero cursed, “We’re not going to make it back to the main building in time, follow me.” And with that, he took your hand in his and you both were sprinting down the main drag of the museum settlement.
It didn’t take very long for the rain to catch up with you, the cold water caused you to shriek with laughter as you blindly let Pero guide you. The rain was refreshing after the long hot day as you both raced through it.
“Here,” Pero yelled out over the pounding rain as he pulled you into the arched area of an alleyway that was partly overgrown with thick flowering vines of honeysuckle.
Gasping for breath, you both huddled close out of instinct. The arch you were under wasn’t super wide, only really enough to give the barest cover from the rain even though the alleyway itself was rather secluded and only used for employees. The rain still was able to splash up onto your long skirts though you didn’t care about that too much since they were already soaked at this point.
You couldn’t help but giggle as you could see others, visitors and fellow employees alike, also dashing for cover from the sudden rainstorm. Even Pero, for all his gruff and unflappable exterior, couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the sight as well.
“Are you alright?” Pero asked. You could practically hear the frown returning to his face with concern.
Looking at him, you couldn’t help but notice how close you both were. Your chest nearly brushing his as you still tried to steady your breath from running.
“Oh, I’m fine,” you said breezily even as your clothing dripped all over the brickwork you both were standing on. “Just feeling a bit waterlogged, but! This is one way to cool off quickly after how hot it was all day.”
Pero’s gaze, now less concerned after you had confirmed you were alright, softened slightly before his eyes flickered to your lips and then a bit lower before snapping up to your face again.
It was then you realized just how close he was as well as how your fine white linen fichu, while still tucked in place over the décolletage that the period designed stays created, was probably very see-through right now with how wet everything had become.
“You… you have a bit of mud,” Pero explained as he softly brushed at a spot on your cheek.
It would be so easy for you both to kiss at this moment. Only one of you had to lean in just a little bit and…
You nuzzled your face into his touch as you pressed even closer at the same time.
As your eyelids fluttered shut, he leaned in, closing the gap as he kissed you.
Your hands seemed to find the planes of his strong chest for their own volition. You found yourself getting lost in the feel of his soft lips, the warmth of his hands at your waist, and the slight tickle of his mustache making you smile into the kiss.
The scent of rain, the hint of the ocean, the heady scent of the flowers surrounding you, and the careful yet strong touch of Pero Tovar made for a perfectly exhilarating kiss. You both clung to each other even as you had to pull away to breathe.
“Was that alright?” Pero asked when he noticed you shiver at his touch. He was so concerned and worried about your well being you couldn’t help but smile at him.
“More than alright,” you told him as your fingers played with the wet linen collar of his shirt. “In fact, I wouldn’t mind you kissing me so more.”
Pero’s brown eyes crinkled, the scar over his left eye pulling slightly as he looked at you in an unguarded moment of wonder. “Is that so?”
“Mhmmm, I’d like it a lot.”
“Well,” he leaned in close again, his plush lips just barely brushing yours as he spoke, “I wouldn’t want to disappoint such a pretty lady even if she is waterlogged.”
You had giggled as he had kissed you again and again until you had, in fact, lost count of how many ways that Pero Tovar seemed to be able to steal your heart with yet another soft kiss. The scent of summer rain and heavy honeysuckle forever ingrained into your memories of that moment that happened underneath that brick archway.
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Perm: @princessbatears​ @cosmicbug379​ @yellowbubblewrap​  @keeper0fthestars​ @pikemoreno​ @opheliaelysia​ @miraclemoreno​  @anxiety-riddled-mando​ @moriamithril​ @mrsparknuts​ @beccaplaying​  @trippedmetaldetector​ @maybege​ @aeryntheofficial​ @mandolovian​  @meshlamando​ @oloreaa​ @lovinglokiforever​ @gallowsjoker​ @whataenginerd​  @hayley-the-comet @justanotherblonde23​ @whatababeleia​ @max--phillips​  @alexmarie29​ @nerd-without-a-cause​ @huliabitch​ @computeringturtle​
Pedro Characters: @mrschiltoncat​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​  @thatchickwiththecamera​ @ilikechocolatemilkh​​
Blacksmith!Pero: @sarahjkl82-blog​
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domesticnct · 4 months ago
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Living in a Cottage with Husband! Renjun
This ones for you @hyucksf158​
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When you and Renjun got married you knew you wanted to buy a home and remodel it immediately. 
You started looking at various properties before you even got married and about a week after your fairytale wedding, you closed on a large, white brick cottage surrounded by forest.
One of the first projects you underwent as newlyweds was creating a large garden in the backyard and building a patio with benches and a little bird bath. 
Renjun absolutely loves gardening and bird watching and he often sets up his easel and paints outside and gets to work. 
He talks about purchasing the surrounding land in the future and creating a small apple orchard.
Wine nights once a week where the two of you cuddle in the garden while you watch the sunset surrounded by the subtle smell of roses and lavender.
In the winter you spend those wine nights indoors eating fancy homemade pasta dishes and snacking on charcuterie while classical music softly plays on the vinyl player. After dinner he’ll always pull you into his arms and slow dance in the kitchen where he’ll place your head on his shoulder and hold you tight before giving you a light kiss on the cheek. 
During the warmer months, most of your time is spent in the garden where the two of you paint and care for growing tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, and strawberries. 
He also really wants chickens but the two of you decided it would be too loud and take away from the peacefulness of the little cottage. 
You also spend a lot of time working on DIY projects to spruce up your home office. You’re an interior designer so making sure your space inspired you was incredibly important.
Renjun turned the basement into his own personal art studio. When he’s not painting outside in the summer months, he spends hours in the basement meeting with clients offering them homemade crackers and preserves from your garden while they discuss plans for the commissions. When he’s not doing that, he’s working his main job curating art for the local art museum.
Hanging plants, a vine wall outside, replacing doorknobs and redoing tiling. Painting over bricks, adding white wood panels to brighten rooms, and replaced light fixtures to make them look more vintage. 
Most of your nights are spent in just relaxing in the home you’re slowly building and putting together. 
Once a month the two of you host dinner parties where the rest of your friends and their wives/significant others attend. 
In the fall you have everyone over for bonfires and carving pumpkins, winter are indoor dinner parties and making fresh hot cocoa and baking cookies, in the spring everyone comes over for free berry picking and makes a day out of making strawberry jam, and in the summer you host several outdoor bbq’s which prompts Renjun to get a hot tub.
When Jisung got engaged, he asked if he could have his engagement party at your house because it was so beautiful. So Renjun got to work figuring out the menu and where the big tent would go because I see him being really into event planning while you design them. It’s probably a side gig the two of you talk about starting in the future.
Much of your free time is also spent in your home is spent working on house projects together to achieve your cottage core dream.
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mppmaraudergirl · 6 months ago
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the other side of the story
sequel to the Remus coffee maker prompt
James doesn’t hate many things.
Presently, though, the list of things he does hate includes Remus Lupin, three-day shipping, and coffee makers.
His attempt to buy the industrial grade coffee maker of which the Object of His Hatred – allegedly –deserves turns out to be a fruitless endeavor when the nearby brick and mortar store is out of stock. This leaves him to the whims of online shopping, more specifically the whims of the Federal Express. And despite the fact that he orders it mere minutes after the incident in the hallway, it still means James has to endure at least three coffee dates between his traitorous friend and one of the most beautiful girls he has ever seen.
His attempts to discuss the matter with Remus prove futile. Sirius, their third roommate, helpfully suggests they just get it out of the way and bare-knuckle box. It is not the first time Sirius has suggested such a thing, but the deeply considering look that befalls Remus’ features is profoundly troubling to James.
Remus makes a good show of ignoring any questions James asks before announcing he will be retiring early that night.
“Moony. Please don’t say anything to make her hate me more than she already does.”
“Don’t be silly, Prongs. There’s likely no chance she won’t come to hate you more simply in the process of getting to know you.”
James groans as the door closes behind Remus.
“Bare-knuckle box,” Sirius supplies again. He is stretched across an overly-large armchair, haughtily scrolling through his phone.
James ignores him as he takes out his own phone and subscribes to a two-month supply of Remus’ favorite coffee before he heads to his own room. The last thing he needs is for Sirius to find out about his additional purchase.
For the first morning, James does his best impression of playing it cool as Remus mumbles a bleary goodbye and heads across the hall. He surprises even himself when he does not ask Remus about it later in the evening while they are eating take-out from Sirius’ favorite Thai restaurant.
By the time they are arguing over who gets control over the television remote the next evening, James thinks he is likely to combust with the roughly one-hundred and sixty-two questions that have crossed his mind over the last two mornings.
Just as James is about to forfeit his rights to the remote to Remus—gallant and caring friend that he is, despite what their red-haired neighbor might think—Sirius swoops in and snags it from him, threatening to put on a foreign film and forgo the subtitles if James doesn’t stop being a “fucking idiot”.
The third day, James is so distracted by the tracking website that he nearly misses his stop to get off the bus. When he rushes into the flat, Sirius tells him FedEx came but he informed the delivery driver that he had the incorrect address and sent him on his way.
James knows Sirius well enough to call his bluff, and Sirius, already growing bored with James now that he realizes James isn’t taking the bait, gestures to a box sitting at their kitchen table.
James relishes in the dumbstruck look on Remus’ face when he gets home and opens the package. That is that, James thinks.
Two days pass and James has again grown used to the smell of Remus’ coffee waking him up in the morning. He rolls out of bed, wearing nothing but his boxers, and yawns his greeting to his roommates – no, friends, as he pours himself a large bowl of cereal. He leans against the counter, barely listening to the exchange between Remus and Sirius.
“I invited Lily over to try out the new coffee maker,” Remus announces, and James is certain the words wake him more effectively than if he were to ingest all of the caffeine currently in their pantry.
“When?” James asks before spooning another bite of Cheerios into his mouth.
“As a matter of fact—” Remus begins before he is interrupted by a knock on the front door. “Now.”
James chokes on the spoonful of Cheerios when he becomes hyper-aware of his current attire—or lack thereof. It takes a second longer for him to realize he will be in the direct line of vision of the doorway.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, somehow his mouth is still working despite the fact that the rest of him has apparently frozen. Sirius is hollering, but James’ brain seems to be buffering and he doesn’t immediately react.
He watches Remus and Lily exchange pleasantries at the front door before Remus opens it wide enough to admit her. They are still laughing about something as they walk further into the apartment, but it dies as soon as Lily looks round and sees him.
James is fairly confident he’s suffering a brain aneurism, which explains the roaming look his brain imagines Lily is giving him.
“Err. Sorry,” Remus supplies after a long moment that James spends praying for a well-timed sinkhole or indoor lightning strike. “You remember my friend, James, I’m sure?”
“James, you say? I do remember hearing about an inconsiderate roommate of yours called James. Is this him?”
“Certainly is. You may have a hard time recognizing him in his current ensemble.”
James is very glad he chose to go with boxers over briefs this particular morning.
“Oh, yes. That’ll be it then. In my experience, walking into a kitchen with a half-naked man eating Rice Pops usually follows a much more enjoyable evening than the one I had last night studying for final exams.”
“Cheerios,” he corrects because he is a corrector, and apparently even being half-naked in front of the girl of his dreams is not enough to shut his big over-correcting mouth.
“Sorry?”
“I’m eating Cheerios, not Rice Pops. And afraid I can’t take the blame or credit for your less than enjoyable evenings. Also, for the record, I usually require dinner before parading around a girl’s kitchen half-naked eating Rice Pops.”
“Is that right?” she asks, biting her lower lip, he thinks, to hold in a laugh.
“That’s right,” James says, and for a moment, as he stares at this gorgeous girl he somehow is successfully speaking to – flirting with?— he forgets they are not alone.
“Bit early for dinner. Best I can do is breakfast… Since you’ve redeemed yourself with Remus, perhaps you can join us tomorrow morning?” Lily offers, a small smile now on her face.
“Not much of a coffee drinker myself, actually,” he replies without giving it much thought. He watches as Remus, still standing next to Lily, places his face into his hands before he realizes his mistake. “I mean, yeah, of course. I’d love some coffee.”
“Prongs, don’t you give up caffeine when you’re training for football season?” Sirius asks, a mock-casual tone to his voice. James is rapidly on his way to considering bare-knuckle boxing Sirius.
Lily’s eyebrows jump up for a quick moment, before they return to a more neutral state. “You play football?”
“Didn’t Remus tell you how I broke the coffee maker?”
Lily bit her lip again, before sending a quick look toward Remus. “He did not, actually. Is that part of your training regimen?”
“Breaking coffee makers? ‘Course. It’s…err… the new hottest trend in training, I’ll have you know. Err…accuracy practice.”
Her lips twitched upward. “Well, you’ll need to leave the football here if you’re to join us tomorrow morning… And, sorry to say, we also have a strictly pro-trouser-at-breakfast position at our flat, as well.”
“Ah, well, rules are rules, after all. I think I can manage.” He ignores the heat radiating off his face as though somehow it will disappear if unacknowledged.
“Good,” Lily says, smiling now. “Liquor parties, though… tend to have a much different set of rules.”
James has lost all brain function at this and shows his true wit and finesse with the ladies in the form of an open-mouthed gape as a response. At this point, Remus – his glorious, infallible, deeply loved friend – directs Lily away from the kitchen by talking about some book or another, and James is saved.
“That was the worst foreplay I’ve ever had the misfortune of witnessing,” Sirius laments. “I think I would have still preferred you and Remus bare-knuckle boxing.”
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sunny-reys · 4 months ago
Text
A Pretty Thief
After Race stumbles upon what has to be the most charming pickpocket in the entire city of New York, he’s sure he has to get to know her. It’s a good thing he’ll soon get his chance.
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Race is almost sure he didn’t see it at all.
Had he moved a foot to the left, had he blinked, he probably wouldn’t have seen anything. It was quick, hands moving with the grace of a trained pianist. Not that Race would know- he’s not exactly known for hanging around establishments with a caliber high enough to warrant a pianist. No, the Sheepshead Races are his kind of entertainment, not the top level businessmen who choose to frequent the orchestra and concert halls.
It is precisely this kind of man that Race has just seen pick-pocketed. The theft was probably the smoothest he’s ever seen- a quick slide of the hand across a back pocket and it was like watching the man’s wallet leap into the awaiting palm of the thief. The thief, as it happens, not the usual scruffy boy but a girl. That’s probably why she caught Race’s attention even before she liberated the man’s wallet- she’s pretty. Far prettier than the usual thieves Race has seen on the streets.
She glanced up once at him, as if she could sense his thoughts on her. She looked startled for a second, as if not used to being caught in the middle of a theft, then quickly regained her momentum. She flashed Race a cocky grin, tossing a wink like a penny to an awaiting newsie. Then she disappeared back into the crowd, gone in an instant despite the fact that there actually aren’t that many people on the street. Race is fascinated.
This, however, proves to be a mistake. In the time it takes for Race to linger in place, watching the pretty thief go, the man has discovered that his wallet is missing. He looks around frantically, searching for a possible suspect, and his eyes land on Race. Race watches as the man points a finger at him, the words shouting from his lips: “Thief! Stop him!”
Race pauses a moment. Surely he doesn’t mean Race himself, who’s just been standing here selling papes? But it does make sense, as few things on the streets ever make sense to bankers and street rats alike- who would steal a wallet, the couple of well-dressed shoppers or the boy dressed in worn clothes and hand-me-downs, selling papes at a couple of cents each in the hopes of not starving to death? 
It’s practically obvious that the man would turn to him. It’s also obvious what Race has to do now- it’s what he’s been doing for almost all of his life. He turns and runs, sprinting down the narrow cobblestoned streets in an attempt to get away from the banker and the crowds now turning to face him. A couple of cops attempt to chase him, but Race has always been able to outrun them. No competition.
His feet feel lighter than air, his legs a blur as he darts between couples walking on the streets and around corners. He pauses for a second, noticing the cops now in front and behind him, then makes a split-second decision and ducks into a nearby alleyway. He follows the brick walls through a few twists and turns, then curses softly. He’s hit a dead end, and there’s no way he can go back. The cops have already blocked the exit.
Just when Race is trying to figure out what his next move could be, a voice sounds from above him. Race cranes his head, trying to spot the speaker, and then he sees the arm pointing to a twisting metal ladder mostly hidden by crumbling brick. Race nods his gratitude, rushing up the ladder before the cops can spot him. He’s just managed to throw himself onto the roof of a low building before the men spill into the alleyway, but even from here Race can see their frustration. There’s no way they can find him, not now.
Race watches until they turn around and head back to the street, then lets out a quiet sigh of relief. He turns to thank his mysterious aide, but freezes slightly with surprise when he recognizes her. It’s the girl from before, the girl who stole the banker’s wallet and got him landed in this mess in the first place. Race scratches the back of his head, adjusting his newsie cap. “Thanks for the tip. I wouldn’t have found that ladder if you hadn’t pointed it out.”
The girl flashes him that same dazzling grin. “No problem. I felt kind of bad that they started chasing you. I wasn’t trying to pin the theft on you.” Race returns her smirk. “And they says there’s no honor among thieves.” The girl laughs, glancing over the edge of the roof to make sure nobody can see them. “You’re the first person to see me steal something in a while. Usually I’m too fast.”
Race raises an eyebrow. “You’se that confident in yourself?” The girl shrugs. “You tell me.” She pulls a cigar from her pocket, starting to lift it to her lips. Race’s eyes widen when he realizes it’s his. It had been in his shirt pocket, but now- His hand flies to his breast pocket. Sure enough, it’s empty. Race gapes at her. “That’s my cigar!” 
The girl hands it back after a second. “Just proving a point.” Race pretends to glare at her. “Better be. Cigars are off limits.” The girl folds her arms across her chest, expectant. “Then how did you get them? I didn’t know newsies had such wide access to the best cigars.” Race leans against a nearby wall, a grin rising to his lips despite himself. “I guess we all have our secrets.”
Then he straightens up. “Where are my manners? Honestly, you meet a goil who steals your cigars and you forget everything. I’m Race.” He extends his hand, mocking formality like he’s one of the bankers this girl just stole from, and the pretty thief copies his stance. “Y/N. Nice to meet you, Race.” Race flashes her a wink. “Nice to meet you too, as long as you stop stealing my cigars.” “No promises.”
They part ways soon after that. Whoever this Y/N is, she’s not a newsie, and Race needs to finish selling the rest of the day’s papes if he wants to have enough to eat tonight. Still, he can’t pretend he wasn’t disappointed to leave her on that roof. There was something about her that he hadn’t seen in a while. She was like a breath of fresh air in the middle of this smoke-clogged city. Honestly, that should tell Race that this girl is special. She’s practically driving him to poetry.
He doesn’t expect to see her again. Something about Y/N tells Race that she’ll only be found if she wants to be found. Yet a couple of days later, Race is walking back to the newsie Lodging House when he sees a familiar silhouette. It’s late in the day, the sun already slipping back into dusk, but he could recognize her in the middle of a dark and stormy night if need be. She’s walking quietly, arms wrapped around herself as if hoping that the press of her forearms alone could keep her warm. Race has lived in Manhattan long enough to know that it never will.
Race jogs to catch up to her, shouting a greeting from down the block. Y/N turns around, a somber expression instantly glittering into a smile when she sees him. Race slings an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close like he’s known her his entire life. “You want to tell me why the best goil in ‘Hattan is walking around like she’s been living a funeral?”
Y/N glances at him over her shoulder. “You think I’se the best goil in ‘Hattan?” Race shrugs. “Maybe all of New York. Maybe the entire world. But that’s not the point. What’s got you feeling blue?” Y/N’s smile slips from her face. It’s strange how she looks without it- older, maybe. More used to the stresses of being a teenager who has to work day in and day out to survive the city.
“I usually have a job in one of the factories, stitching clothes and whatnot. I’se had it for a while. It’s not the easiest or the safest, but at least it’s indoors.” Race winces at that. He’s heard a lot about the factories, about dozens of girls crammed together in small rooms, eyes strained over tiny stitches for hours and hours until they practically couldn’t see or move their hands at all. For some reason, the thought of the flighty, high-spirited Y/N stuck inside that dim and darkened room makes his heart clench in his chest.
Y/N is continuing now, and Race puts aside his pride to listen to her. “Or at least, I had the job for a while. Today, the bosses came out and said that they was going to fire a bunch of us to make sure they had enough profits. I was one of the people they selected at random, because I’se one of the youngest and they don’t trust us kids to do the best work. They’ve done stuff like this before, but they always hire us back. It’s been a couple of days now, and I’ve showed up every day. They should have hired me back, but they haven’t. I think they’re serious about this.”
She flops her head into her hands. “I’m worried, Race. The factories are already stuffed to the gills with new workers as it is. I don’t know that I’ll be able to find a place to work so quickly. Besides, my landlord’s going to kick me out if I don’t have a way to pay my rent. It’s the smallest apartment on this side of Manhattan, but it’s all I’ve got.” Race feels his spirits sink as he listens to Y/N talk. It isn’t fair that she should have to go through this, that any of them should have to work this hard just to live. But New York has always run at double speed, and the city that never sleeps has rarely cared about the welfare of the kids it relies on to function.
Race pulls Y/N closer, pressing a kiss against the top of her head despite his head screaming at him that this is not something he should be doing with a girl he’s just met. “You can stay with me. Us newsies have our lodging house, you know. It’s not much, just a bunch of troublemakers stuck together in a mess of bunks, but it’s home. If you need a place to stay, it’s here for you.”
Y/N looks up at him through a mess of lashes, and Race feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest. “You mean it?” Race tries to force indifference, but he doesn’t think he could do it if he tried. “Of course I mean it. We look out for each other, right? Now I’m looking out for you.” Y/N beams at him, wrapping her arms around him. “You’re the best, Racer. Honestly.” Race feels like a giddy schoolboy. “Hey, it’s no problem. Want to go now?” “Absolutely.”
They make their way back to the lodging house, trading jokes and smiles as they go. Now that Y/N’s got a place to stay and at least start to stay on her feet, she’s decidedly happier. This in turn makes Race happier. He’s not sure why, but every time she looks over at him with that beaming smile Race feels like he could run a hundred miles and never stop, or jump right up to the moon and make her a place to stay. The other newsies would laugh at him and call him starstruck, but it doesn’t matter. Y/N’s curling her fingers around his, and he can’t think about anything else.
They pause in the doorway of the lodging house. Y/N looks back to Race as if double checking that he’s serious about this, and he gives her a reassuring smile. Race steps forward, opening the door and guiding Y/N into the main room of the house. From the second they enter, Race can feel all eyes shift to them. Great. It’s not often that the newsies bring a goil into the lodging house, and certainly not one as pretty as Y/N. Race can already hear the questions they’re dying to ask, and sense the stares from Albert, Elmer, and the others.
Luckily, Jack is the first one to step forward. Honestly, of all the newsies to first talk to Y/N, Race is glad it’s Jack. Jack happens to already have a girl to hang about with, and such a vibrant, fearless girl is Katherine that Race knows Jack would never think twice about another girl. It’s kind of like how Race feels about Y/N. 
Jack looks between the two of them, a grin settling decidedly onto his face. “So, Racer, you want to tell us about your, uh, friend?” Race gives Jack a look. “This is Y/N, she’s a good friend of mine. She needed a place to stay so I offered up a bunk over here.” Jack grins. “I bet she’s a very good friend.” Race makes to hit him with his cap, and Jack dances away. “Alright, alright. Just teasing. Y/N, we’d love to have you. If you can stand Racer, you can stand any of us. Stay as long as you like.”
Y/N laughs, the sound echoing around the room like a bell. “That sounds great. Thank you.” Race repeats the thank-you before practically pulling Y/N away, desperate to get a chance to talk before the other newsies try their hand at stealing away his goil. Race wants to shake himself at the thought. Y/N isn’t his girl, remember? He would do well to keep it in mind, although the thought keeps slipping from his head the second she looks back at him.
At first, Race doesn’t know what he was thinking, bringing Y/N to the lodging house. Would she get annoyed by all the other newsboys? Would she like it at all? Luckily, he doesn’t have to worry. She seems so happy to have a place to stay, somewhere with a ton of new friends that she doesn’t complain at all. In fact, she seems to be enjoying herself.
When it’s time to go to sleep, Race isn’t sure what to do. They offer Y/N one of the spare bunks, and she takes it, but he can tell that Y/N is still awake even long after the other boys fall asleep. Quietly, so as to not wake anyone else, he whispers over to her. “You can come over here. If you want. You know, if you can’t sleep.” For a second, he thinks Y/N is going to laugh at him, but then she whispers a quick thank-you, hurrying across the room on footsteps almost too light to hear.
Y/N settles into the bunk next to him, wrapping the few threadbare blankets around her. Y/N lays her head down on his chest, and Race pulls her close to him. He can already feel himself starting to drift off to sleep, but he can still hear her whisper something in the quiet of the night. “Thank you, Race. For everything. You didn’t have to do all of this, you know.” Race smiles, the expression slow in the night air. “Of course I did. I care about you, you know. Couldn’t leave you there on the street.”
The words hang in the air for a second, and then Y/N’s voice comes again, sweetened with a smile. “I care about you too, Race. More than I should.” Race raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?” Y/N grins. “Yes. But now I’m going to sleep.” She pulls the blanket higher, closing her eyes despite the look on Race’s face. He considers this for a moment, what it means, what he can’t believe she just said. Then sleep threatens to drown him whole once more, so he presses one last kiss to her cheek before finally letting himself drift off to sleep at last. If the other newsies can see the two of them, holding each other close together in the quiet of the lodging house, they don’t say a word until morning.
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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 6 months ago
If your requests are still open would you maybe write some more enji? Hes just so... authoritarian
His presence alone is so intimidating that I doubt he’s ever had to threaten his Darling into not trying to escape. Even then, where do they go? How do you hide from the #2 (or later on, #1) Hero in the country who will use every connection he has to get you back home where you’re “safe” from the Villains who’d hurt you to get to him? 
He’s very controlling and being with him can quickly become suffocating. Always watching you while you do something like clean/read/get up and leave the room, constantly hovering behind you, always keeping an arm around you whenever you get the privilege of going out in public, etc. He even tries to awkwardly start a conversation with you like the awkward strict-father-trying-to-communicate-and-connect-with-his-kids man he is with Shoto; if you’re reading something, he’ll ask about the book and how you’re enjoying it. If you’re watching a show, he’ll just sit down on the couch and occasionally ask short questions about it if he doesn’t know what it is.
He has naturally high body heat and will pull/hold his Darling against him in his sleep, and it’s impossible to try and get up if they aren’t able to wake him up. Even when sleeping, his Darling’s completely trapped lol :’) He also tends to murmur incoherently and nuzzle his Darling in his sleep though, so it’s not a wholly bad experience.
He knows that being stuck indoors all the time leaves his Darling a little pent-up and stir-crazy, so he’d push them to train with him at home. They don’t have to go to his level since he’s...you know, Endeavor the brick shithouse who never skips leg day and all that. If his Darling is out-of-shape or doesn’t exercise much anyway, he’d have them do little things that their body can handle. He’ll guide their body from behind for stretches and fix their form when it’s a little off, and even when he has an erection that’s practically stabbing Darling in the rear he never initiates anything sexual until training’s over. (he’d be one of those dudes on /fit/ that say edging yourself while lifting can increase your performance and overall discipline)
He. will. bathe. you. His home has a gigantic tub that feels like you’re in an indoor hot spring as opposed to a bathroom, and he’s going to get in there with you. He’ll wash your back before getting in and then have you wash his, and he’ll insist on holding you in his lap while helping clean the rest of you. Soaking after a long day always relaxes him, especially when he gets to do it with his Darling. You can actually feel him relax and release his body’s tension once he’s in the tub and strokes one of your hips absentmindedly with a tired sigh through his nose.
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burnedbyshoto · a year ago
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eternal love
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— A simple love story between a tattoo artist and a flower shop owner. —
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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader
warnings: fluff, cursing
word count: 10,505
a/n: so, ngl... this was something that blew up in my mind at 2 am a few nights ago and after fighting others on whether I should write it, I finally did it!!! I super loved writing this, and I hope you guys will enjoy reading it!!!! a lil fluff for the soul, have fun :D also uh, this works for @bnhabookclub​‘s event so huzzah!
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Spring was a season of renewal. The world is going back to what it once was in its beautiful glory. Baby pinks and soft greens illuminated as far as the eyes could see, the morning mist unable to freeze because of the warmth in the ground. 
The gentle echoing sounds of animals, insects, and more returning to regular activity, the cold winters finally defeated. Butterflies danced in the air, birds sang in the trees, and love was in the air. 
What would be perfect with love?
Flowers.
“Good morning, y/l/n-san,” an elder greeted you.
Your cheeks were already burning with exhaustion, it was only eight in the morning, and you were tired. You wiped the back of your hand to your sweating forehead, your fatigue ignored while you smiled in greeting. “Good morning!”
She stared up at you with kind eyes, her hands holding onto her cane while she cocked her head to the side, “You seem to be quite exhausted this morning.”
There wasn’t much you could say or reply with because it was true.
“Well, we finally have a whole bunch of flowers back, and with White Day approaching us, I’m trying to make sure we’re on track!” you explain, trying to fix the multiple buckets of assorted flowers that you would have outside of your store.
You were a flower shop owner. 
Your entire life, you had lived a life where you had grown up working alongside your parents. This was a family business, and with your parents eldering years and you finally back from schooling, they had decided to take an impromptu trip to see the world, leaving you behind to take care of the store. It wasn’t something you minded; after all, they had allowed you to seek all of your own adventures in your life despite only being owners of a flower shop, but it was a lot of work for just yourself. 
You couldn’t hire anyone to work at the store, after all, while you had never grown up to live in a moment of discomfort, it was because your parents and yourself busted your backs for this store was why it survived. But now it was just you.
Winter had been fine, the flowers never had to leave the store, but this was spring.
Renewal, return, and romance suffocated the airs of Japan, and your slow winter business was already becoming a quick and demanding spring one.
Brushing your soiled hands onto the relatively clean apron you wore, you sighed at the sight of the elder looking past you. ‘Was she that old that she spaced out in public?’ you couldn’t help but think while staring at her. 
“Who’s moving into that shop there?” the elder spoke up, and you hummed, turning around to follow her extended finger. 
The shop next to your family’s flower shop had been vacant for years, the last time you remember anyone being there was in middle school. Now in your early twenties, you didn’t even realize that anyone was moving in. There were a lot of men too! How you had so apparently been ignorant to their massive hustle to move things in shocked you. Damn, maybe you were past the point of exhaustion at this point…
“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, your eyes growing when you realized just how neater the store looked. They had obviously been working on repairing the store for some time now, the store was painted in a clean and crisp color, the brick walls scrubbed and glittering like new. It was pretty aesthetic.
 “Y/l/n-san! Please help me, it’s my wife’s promotion day, and the flowers I ordered online never arrived!” a voice screamed from a distance away, and your attention turned towards a man who was sobbing while scampering his way over. 
And even with your want to just stare at the army of men moving in machines you’ve never seen in your life, you exhaled softly, turning to face the scared customer.
“Of course, follow me!”
You bid your farewells to the elder and hurried inside, ready to create an arrangement of flowers that the customer would enjoy.
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Your exhaustion of the day never seemed to end, the spring day had brought a plethora of customers to your storefront. Many couples, new and old, are surfacing to pick out fresh bouquets together. Their happiness is charming, personalities warming and smiles ever so sweet. They always asked about how you were doing, how your parents were doing — after all, this was a tight community, and they asked about the new business next door.
You couldn’t respond to that last question, your face always burning up in your embarrassment of not knowing. There was no reason for you to not know, after all, it wasn’t as if you were ever doing anything that wasn’t running the store. There was no one to rely on but yourself at this point, but still, exhaustion didn’t mean you could miss the purchase and remodeling of the store right next door to you!
Soon it was nine at night, the now empty wooden carts that were once outdoors dragged back indoors of your store. You took count of your sales today, grinning to see that you had managed to sell everything you had put out today except for a few leftover peonies. You moved back towards the door, ready to turn the Open sign to the Closed side. But you paused when you saw three men walking out of the neighboring shop. 
Your eyes focused on the three of them talking comfortably. You had no idea what they were saying, but still, you concentrate on them, curiosity getting the best of you. They talked for a while while you continued to peer through the glass on the door, the conversation must have been lively considering that one of the men was laughing so frequently you almost wished you could hear what they were saying. But alas, eventually, they embraced, and two of the three men entered the large truck that had been parked in the alleyway practically all day and left.
Frowning, you saw that the man was still standing out there. He was unmoving, looking at who knows what with his hands stuffed into his pockets. The night was dark, and the lights on the street did little to help you create what he looked like in your mind. But with a passing car, the soft light illuminating the man with the gentle headlights, you got a clear image of him.
Well, it would have been clear had your guts scrambled into a knot at the sight of his own eyes piercing into yours.
He had noticed you.
With a loud cry, you dove to the floor, your hands pressed against the cool wood while you thought about your next plan of action. Would he come and confront you? Stalking people like this wasn’t cool in the slightest, and if he wanted to walk over and ask you about it, you wouldn’t be able to lie in the slightest. You knew that about yourself. Or maybe it was just you freaking out? There was a solid chance that this was just you freaking out, right?
Your palms sweat while you pushed off the floor, your body trembling as if you were the starring role of some American horror movie. Sucking in your air, and with a hammering heart, you peeked through the glass. No one was out there.
Sighing in relief, you were grateful to believe that it was either your imagination that he stared at you, or he just didn’t care. But still, even with the exhaustion weighing heavy in your bones, you knew you owed him a greeting. Your mother would have your head when she returned if you didn’t. Plus, it helped that the pink peonies still sat in the bucket, their petals still strong and firm, beautiful and lively. 
With a nod, you walked over to them. Grabbing the peonies, you organized the delicate flowers into a full and lush looking bouquet. You hoped that he liked flowers, and wouldn’t mind the kind you gave him, primarily because you couldn’t provide him with anything else. Nevertheless, you wrapped the flowers in a tan paper and walked out, ready to give your greetings to a newcomer.
The store felt a world away while you walked towards it, and upon stepping in front of the store, it stole your breath away.
It was a tattoo shop.
Tattoos in Japan were no longer being associated with the Yakuza, years of trying to get everyone to accept this western practice by the younger generations had finally succeeded. Tattoo shops were blooming in numbers across the country, and it seemed that your area was no different. 
The outside had large windows, and without even entering the shop, you found it to be quite classy indoors. This wasn’t at all what you were expecting from a tattoo shop! You had always assumed that it was black, something similar to the gates of hell feeling. But with the sign not claiming it was closed, and the store hours showing that it was open until eleven at night, you pushed past the doors. You were glad to see that your pink peonies would make a generous splash of color in the darker colored storefront.
“Hello?” you called out, your voice ever so softly echoing against the unoccupied room. “Is anyone here?”
Cringing at what you said, you groaned. If there was no one here, would that make you a criminal? Oh god, please don’t let that be true! But if there was no one here, why would he leave with the lights on and the door unlocked?! How stupid—
“Can I help you?”
Oh fuck, you’re screwed, was all you could think at first when you turned towards the black curtained hallway. 
The man who stood there was tall, his shoulders wide, and legs firm. His arms — which were covered shoulders to wrists in tattoos, his right side containing only black inked tattoos, and his left in the most colorful ink you’d ever seen — were defined with muscle, stretching the fabric of his dark grey t-shirt. 
A line of piercings down the cartilage of his ears, identical on both sides of his head. His hair, however, was something you’ve never seen before. Half white, half red, with an undercut and detailed shavings at his temples, it was currently held back with a thin black headband that exposed his eyes to you. He was heterochromatic, you could tell immediately by the piercing blue and dark grey eye color he held. But there was nothing to disguise your reaction when you saw the tattoo — scar? — that covered his eye like an overlarge eyepatch.
There was no smile on his face, just a quirked eyebrow and his lips set in an unamused frown.
“Is that a tattoo?!” you asked your jaw to the floor. Your fingers touched the place where the red skin on his face would be on your own. 
“No,” he responded after a beat, his eyes were unbelievably annoyed. Obviously, not at all amused by your intrusion and rude words. “It’s a burn, but again, can I help you, or are you just going to stand there and stare. Not that you look the type to get tattoos, though.”
“I do have piercings, though,” you couldn’t help but defend yourself, your skin feeling like it was burning under his gaze. “But okay, yes. I mean, no! No, you can’t help me because I’m not here for your services.”
His gaze on you only seemed to intensify, a fire and ice storm erupting in his eyes while you wanted to punch yourself in the throat. Good god, be normal.
“I’m your neighbor! Well, I guess I can give you my name. Y/l/n y/n at your service,” you try, your hands thrusting out the peonies in your grasp. His gaze didn’t drop to the flowers, not even a twitch of an eye, which only coursed anxiety through your blood. “I’m the owner slash, not the owner of the flower shop! I hadn’t noticed you ever moving in except today, so I felt super bad! Um, so I just wanted to stop by and say, well, welcome! And uh, well… I just felt bad! These are peonies.”
“I know what flowers those are,” he responds, but his gaze remains unfazed.
What the hell was his problem, you thought, the hairs on the back of your neck rising as if you were being confronted by a deadly predator and not some stupid hot tattoo artist with a bad attitude.
“Oh, cool! Most people think they’re roses for whatever reason,” you laugh, looking at the flowers, your shoulder shrugging. 
“I also know they’re the only flowers you had leftover from your sales today,” he spoke again, and your face twisted when you returned to his gaze again. 
“Excuse me?”
“I was outside when you were pulling all your carts inside, and they were the only ones who weren’t sold today,” he shrugs, his arms crossing before his chest. The muscles on his arms only seem to expand at this, the ink dancing across his skin, forming new images in your mind while you feel like punching him in the jaw. “Is that what you feel about your new neighbor? I’m deserving of day-old flowers that you were unable to sell?”
“Of course not!” you exclaim, the frustration in your blood climbing while you held his stare. “I mean, are they new and super fresh flowers, no! But they haven’t even wilted yet because I know how to take care of my crap! I just finished the winter season where flower sales are always less than favored, so sorry I couldn’t toss you a thousand yen bouquet!”
There was a silence that floated across the room, his eyes staring into yours, and you could do nothing but stare back at him. Your shoulders rag with your uncontrolled angry breathing, what a fucking asshole he was! Who did he think he was?!
“Well, I guess I’m sorry to hear that you’re broke,” he sighs, finally taking strides over towards you. There’s a part of you that yells to leave the store immediately, and an even larger part of you that screams to step at him too, throw him off his trail! But in your indecisiveness, he stands before you, taking the flowers from your hands. “Todoroki Shouto.”
“That is so obviously not my name,” you roll your eyes, your arms folding across your chest. 
There’s a small huff of air from the man, his eyes looking at you full of judgment and the smallest bits of amusement. 
“Oh!” you gasp, your hands covering your mouth.
“I’m Todoroki Shouto,” he tries, his eyebrow lifting again, his lip trying perking into a smirk. “But, thanks for confirming we don’t have the same name.”
If there was a god, he would shoot you from this world at this very moment; your fists shoved into the pockets of your apron.
“Okay,” you agree, your lips pursing in your horrible, horrible attempt at masking your hurt pride. “Well, I am utterly exhausted, so I am going to leave now. Have fun with your dumb tattoo shop, Todoroki-san, I am… going to sleep.”
You turned on your heel, ready to run from this shop like the devil was hot on your heels.
“Well, see you around—” he responded, your hands pressing onto the door to leave— “Y/l/n.”
The ringing of your blood in your ears heavily outweighed his voice because you didn’t even stare at him as you continued to walk down the pathway to reenter your shop. Maybe it was a good thing you didn’t look back because had you, you would’ve seen Shouto’s fingers caressing the pink petals of the flower, and his lips moved to say one thing.
“Welcome.”
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It had been a week since you had seen Shouto. The new tattoo shop seemed positively overwhelmed by new customers, countless amount of young people filing into their appointment times, and the few days he had free hours. It, fortunately, did bring you new crowds of customers. Friends and couples alike bringing in the warm spring air into your shop while they bought flowers in commemoration of their new tattoos. 
There was no stopping this, it seemed.
“Thank you for your service, please come again,” you called out after the giggling and slightly tipsy group of girls who happened to be your last customers of the day.
Today has been a good day.
You weren’t at all exhausted, in fact, you felt relatively light on your feet still despite it being 8:56 p.m. Since it was so late at night, and with the knowledge of there hardly ever being last-second customers you started cleaning up for the night. But as you grabbed the broom, the familiar bell of the entrance of the shop rang in your ears.
Sighing, you dropped the broom and turned towards the counter, “Welcome!”
The figure at the door shocked you, it was Shouto. He stood there with his fingers hooked in the loops of his black jeans, and the white v-neck did nothing to conceal anything about his tattoos or his dumb muscles. 
“Hey!” you smiled, the smile on your face as fake as the festive flowers sitting on the counter — the ironies of working at a flower shop.
“I’m looking for recommendations,” Shouto admitted, his strides stopping him before you. “It’s one of my friends' birthdays coming soon, in a few weeks. He doesn’t like getting presents, but he likes flowers. I was hoping you could help me out here.”
Your jaw drops, words failing you seeing the way that his hair falls so elegantly between his eyes. His eyes are concentrated on the pre-arranged flower arrangements demonstrated on the table as samples and you cough.
“Uh, yes, do you know any of his favorite flowers?”
“No, he’s not really that open about his interests,” Shouto admits, his shoulders shrugging,
“When do you need the arrangement?”
“His birthday is April 20,” Shouto says, a sigh on his lips while he looks up at you. “I’m not sure if there was a time requirement to request things, especially given that you work here alone.”
“I do not work here alone!” you cry, your blood sparking in a fury. “I mean, yes, right now I do, but it’s not always like this! I’m just being a good child and letting my parents have the travels of their lifetime!”
Shouto hums, his face unconvinced, but he seems a bit perplexed, “Did I do something that first night to you?”
That takes you entirely off guard, “Excuse me?”
“Well, after the first night we officially met, you have avoided me very well.”
“I-I’m very busy with this store!”
“I walked out of the store to pick up supplies while you were speaking with your own customer. I saw you run into the door, trying to make your way back indoors.”
“You saw that?!”
“A lot of my friends say I can come off coldly at first, and I know that it’s true, and I’m trying to work on it. I, myself, was exhausted that day too because we put the entire shop together in a single day, so I let myself slip up,” Shouto admits, and you can feel your face beating in time with your embarrassed pulse. Why was this so hard? “I haven’t had the time to come over since opening, so I’m trying now.”
“So the birthday thing is a fake way to get me to talk?” you asked, your lips twitching in your losing battle to keep from smirking.
“Yes and no,” he smiles softly. It almost takes you by surprise, the smile seemed too gentle, too sweet to be on the face of someone who looked like they’d murder you in an alleyway. “I’m not that incompetent to know that I have a few weeks to give until I really need to get those plans under wraps.”
There’s a laugh that bubbles in your throat, and you sigh, unbelieving of what he was doing. 
“You’re kind of weird,” you tease, untying your apron for it was now long past the store's open hours. “But since you’re not a customer, I will be asking you to leave at once.”
“But—!”
“No exceptions! I can’t be seen playing favorites, the elders will gossip,” you firmly state, moving from behind the counter to shoo him from your store.
“I want to buy a flower then,” Shouto insists, pulling out a leatherbound wallet. 
Your eyes narrow, lucky bitch.
“What flower would you like?” you ask. Your customer service smile painted on your face. 
“Do you happen to have any ajisai’s?” Shouto asks, and you think.
You did have some!
Nodding, you pointed your finger towards the pack where small bouquets of ajisai’s sat. Shouto nodded, walking over and grabbing one and making it back.
“That’ll be seven hundred yen,” you say the moment he arrives back.
“The sign said six hundred,” Shouto points out.
“You have me seven minutes over closing time, it’s my gratuity tip,” you tease, grinning when he places seven hundred yen down. You focus back on the cash register, inputting the last sale into it and fixing up the computer before returning your attention back to Shouto, who was staring at the flowers in his hands.
“Here,” he says, thrusting the flowers into your hands and walking away before you could yell at him.
The pink-tipped flowers sat in your hands, ajisai — or hydrangeas — were small and delicate flowers, but they were stunning in your eyes. Rolling your eyes, you put the flowers next to the fake festive ones and went to clean up, the small smile on your own face irreplaceable as you cleaned up.
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In the following weeks, you and Shouto had begun a strange friendship of sorts. Your breaks during your lunch and dinner times were accompanied by Shouto, who was always over at the time. The tattoo shop was doing exceptionally well, and because of that, he even had other artists there with him, and just gained an official piercer. They were a great crew, all bright and caring people who often had you laughing on the rare occasions you visited his shop. But Shouto always had his time slot blocked out during your breaks, and he would come over with snacks and opinions for the two of you to discuss.
He was definitely an odd person. He was very open about a lot of things, almost too honest. In weeks, you knew more about him than some of your own childhood friends, and you had been involved with most of their stories! Todoroki Shouto was someone to admire though, he was brilliant, a person who never failed to make you smile with his often idiotic tendencies. 
He was smart but dumber than a rock.
But as the two of you grew comfortable, there was one thing itching at the back of your mind, the one question you always had when you saw people with tattoos. 
“What do your tattoos mean?” you couldn’t help but ask, your eyes shining while looking at his arm that was poised high to deliver the cold soba noodles into his awaiting mouth. “I mean, I know there’s a lot, but one side is colorful and bold, and the other is simple and beautiful.”
Shouto finished the noodles on his chopsticks, his lips soaked with the oils on the noodles. “Do you want to know about a particular one?” he asked, resting the chopsticks down and extending his arms for you to see. 
You leaned forward on the stool you were sitting on, observing the lines that created the art on his skin. You were fascinated by both sleeves, and he had incredible artwork on both sides of his arms. There was also some hidden motif behind each side, fire versus ice… But which one to ask about first?
“Can you just tell me why you have two sleeves that are starkly different?” you asked with a curious glint of your eyes. “I mean black ink on one side versus only color? Is there a reason, or was it just something that happened by accident?”
“Oh, there’s a reason for it,” Shouto adjusted on his chair, clearing his throat while he extended his arms. “You can tell just by looking at me, but my left side is what I’ve always associated with my dad: the red hair, blue eyes. My right side is something that I connect with my mom: the white hair, grey eyes. Colored tattoos are always more painful, they tell a very exact story. There isn’t any room for argument because it is seen in one way and one way only. You can deceive, and you can hide, but the truth is there. When I got my first tattoo, I still hated my dad with everything I had, and I wanted to cover every part of my body that I could that would erase him from me. Which is my left side. And like colored tattoos, he was painful, exact, and unchanging. My right side is black ink only because things become confusing, discerning, unknown—” his fingers trace the curving lines on his right arm— “you don’t know where it starts, where it ends, but it’s ever present. It’s comforting because it can change with how you need it to change. You can have other fills in its blanks, to piece together its story, but it has distinct intentions. It’s strong and adaptable.”
You take in his words, unable to think of anything but absorb his words. There’s a soft understanding to his tattoos. Once done in defiant, spoke stories of not only who he was, but who he is today. 
“Okay, so I know I’m just a super lame florist, but what do you think about me getting a tattoo?” you asked, your teeth biting into your lower lip with your confusion and hope. “I mean, I’ve never really wanted one before, but that was because of social stigma and all, but seeing yours and your friends all the time… I’m curious.”
Shouto’s brows raise; he doesn’t say anything; however, studying your face.
“What are you thinking about in particular?” he asked his eyebrow scrunching, his head tilting to the side. “Anything at all?”
You blew a raspberry, your hands pressing to your lap, your shoulders falling to your ears.
“I like symbolic things a lot,” you admit with a shrug. “I don’t think I could ever get a sleeve tattoo, so I want it to make sense and have meaning to me. Like… I don’t know a sakura blossom, but maybe not that? I don’t know!”
Shouto laughs softly, the sound pleasant on your ears while you thrash your legs like a child. 
“Well, I think I can help you at the very least draw you something,” he suggests, a hand offered out in a deal. “I am a tattoo artist, after all.”
“I’m not sure if I can trust you,” you playfully scoff, your arms folding across your chest while you shake your head. “I might doze off under the needle and wake up to a walking penis on my back!”
“A penis?” Shouto repeated, an award-winning smile gracing his face while you huff, your laughter failing at being masked.
“It’s what happened in middle school to people caught sleeping! Didn’t it happen to you?”
“Not at all.”
“Right, you rich kid middle schools were a breeding ground for far worse. What type of prepubescent hazing did your school do?”
“What makes you think there was hazing?”
“How could there not be!”
The doorbell chimes in the distance and the lively debate is over when you check the time, it was time to reopen it seems.
“I’ll figure out what you did back as a pubescent child,” you promise, watching as Shouto rises with you, his own alarm going off. “But would you really draw me a tattoo?”
Shouto nods, following you out to the entrance of the shop, “I will if you ask me to.”
Uncertainty sits in your stomach, you weren’t sure if it was something that you wanted right now, it had, after all, come up as a moment of trying to create conversation more than being an honest truth. But if it was something that Shouto drew for you, maybe you would.
“I’ll let you know if I want it,” you promise, your eyes closing with your warm smile. 
Shouto hums in agreement, his head nodding once. He seems to hesitate for a bit and ultimately walks over to where there was a gathering of flowers and picks out a single himawari. Your eyes narrow in silent teasing when he walks it over to the counter, his hands already reaching for his wallet.  
You accept the change, giving him back what you owed him, and was once again shocked to see him resting the flower in your hands. 
“For you,” he smiled, his shoulders shrugging.
“You’re so weird,” you wrinkle your nose, still accepting the flower from his fingers with a bright smile. “Thank you for the beautiful himawari.”
“Mm, you’re welcome,” Shouto nodded, slipping on the beanie he had removed upon entering the warm flower shop. “See ya later, y/l/n?”
You nod, waving as he left to which he graciously flipped the sign for you to read that you were once again open. “Bye, Todoroki-san!”
Himawari flowers, otherwise known as sunflowers, always filled you with warmth and love. A flower that is known to be a personal sun on this earth without ever once providing a shred of warmth. There was no denying that it was beautiful, but you shook your head, leaving it on the table in the hallway that leads to your home above the shop. You’d dry and press it once the day was over. 
Yes, you decided, that’s how it was going to go.
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“I always forget the wedding season is a thing! Stop looking at me like that, and please help me!”
Most people would never expect to see a community staple member who ran the flower shop to be on their hands and knees, holding onto the ankles of one of the most intimidating and newest members of the community while they begged for help. Well, to be honest, no one could even consider what you were doing to be begging. It was a full-on psycho messy bitch cry for help. 
“I said I was going to help you already, what else do you possibly need from me?” Shouto groaned, his vans clad foot trying to wiggle you loose from his ankle. “...don’t tell me.”
“Well, you know what I’m asking then!” you whine, your eyes welling with tears at Shouto’s straight face.
Your face had an array of dried petals on your face, dirt caking the undersides of your fingernails, grass, and leaves in your hair, and desperation reeking from your face. 
“My parents still aren’t back! My friends are all busy living their own lives too far away to help me properly, and you’re the only person I trust! You’re a tattoo artist, you have to have a delicate hand, right? Please help me and let me use your crew too, I promise I’ll pay!”
Shouto groans, managing to kick you free from his foot, and pulling you up to your feet so that the noisy people watching would hopefully leave. “If you want the others to help you out, you need to ask them. I’m not going to force them to do anything.”
Your eyes blow wide, excitement simmering in your cells while your hands grip onto his biceps for support, and his own hands rested on your hips. 
“Really?! You’ll let me do that?!”
Shouto breathed heavily out of his nose, took a second to recompose himself before letting that small smile appear on his face. The grateful squeal that left your lips was something that shocked him, Shouto won’t lie, but it was the hug you threw around his neck that had him stumbling. He watched in a frozen trance as you stormed into his shop, arms waving animatedly above your head while you explained your need for help to his employees. He didn’t follow you in though, choosing to instead watch you from outside the shop because it was his break right now, and he wasn’t going to be spending it inside the shop. 
You returned with a smug smirk on your face, dirt-smudged on your cheek while you nodded your head in victory. 
“Well, it looks like I have a team,” you say with a mock casualty. “I am, what the cool kids call, persuasive.”
A weird feeling floods to the tips of Shouto’s fingers at your words was this… annoyance? There was no reason for him to be annoyed that his friends would be coming over to help you. You needed the help. So what if you wouldn’t be talking to him and only him.
“Persuasive, or annoying?” Shouto tries you, and the way you focused on him in your flustered state was enough for a small chuckle to escape his lips. Before you could respond in defense to your persuasive tongue, he was already en route towards your shop. “You wasted five minutes of my break, please don’t waste the other ten.”
He wasn’t sure what made him grin more, the loud cry of “you’re an asshole, Todoroki-san,” the childish stomping coming from behind him, or the cheerful laughter that soaked your tongue at your own silly antics. But still, the grin became a soft smile when he turned to face you, the shop door in his hand while he held it for you. 
“After you.”
“Damn right, after me.”
~
“You guys are actually very good at this,” you marvel, peering over Shouto’s shoulder, watching as he and his coworkers assembled the vase of statement flowers.
Todoroki Shouto, Kaminari Denki, Shinsou Hitoshi, Midoriya Izuku, and Bakugou Katsuki.
Five equally large men, decked out in tattoos and piercings, with a punk look to them sat pinched together on tables meant to hold more than five men dainty arranging soft pinks and white-colored flowers with your princess pop music blaring in the background. It was very different to how they were in their shop, but it amused you to see them like this.
They were a group of childhood friends who apparently all had the same dream and worked together to make this tattoo shop. Shouto, being the most wealthy of them, had been the name signed on all the papers, explaining the reasons why he was the one you had first met those many nights ago. 
But with five different weddings coming up at the moment, you were more stressed about getting these things done and fast. The good thing, however, was that it seemed most of them were striving perfectionists. 
Shouto, Bakugou, Midoriya, and Shinsou were all on top of it, having only needing you to explain the arrangements once for them to get it. Kaminari took two tries, but he was also very, very social, and took his time. They were a bizarre dynamic, but it was something you enjoyed.
“Damn right we are, this shit is so fucking easy,” Bakugou responded back, shoving yet another completed arrangement your way. “And why are you just fucking staring at us? Why aren’t you helping?”
You hummed, grabbing the completed vase, and placing it with the others from this particular wedding. “Because I already met my quota, and I can’t pull out the other arrangement until you guys are done.”
“Oh, there’s another one?” Midoriya asked, handing you a completed vase.
“Well, if you guys don’t mind!” you feel your face heating while they were finishing up their final vases, Bakugou snatching some of Kaminari since he had more leftover. “I just didn’t expect you guys to haul these so quickly! And well, there’s just one left I have to do!”
“We are amazing,” Kaminari says, twirling a stem of baby’s-breath in his fingers. “I can see why you were so eager to sign us to your shop. “I make perfect commentary, Shinsou has that calming effect, Deku is sweet and kind, Shouto is obviously the closest to you, and Bakugou.”
You blinked, as did everyone else, staring at the blond who wove the baby’s-breath into the arrangement with a soft touch. Wasn’t he going to finish that sentence?
“And I what?” Bakugou growls, his ears tinging red with his annoyance.
“Hm?” Kaminari perks his eyebrows, his gaze lazily resting on the ash blond. “Oh, no, that was it!”
There was a loud screech of the chair against the floor, and Midoriya was holding back Bakugou while Kaminari screeched, hiding behind Shinsou.
“Here you go,” Shouto sighed, handing you the prior arrangement for this wedding batch. 
“Thank you,” you smile gratefully, the sounds of the raging war between Bakugou and Kaminari fading into background noise while you hold Shouto’s gaze. “For all of this too, you guys are keeping me from a countless amount of all-nighters.”
“Well, as long as they don’t wreck your shop, then I guess the payment will be okay,” Shouto sighed, not bothering to even look at how Midoriya was losing ground on keeping Bakugou back.
“As long as there isn’t any blood or teeth on the floor, I’ll give it to ya,” you grin, gesturing with your head for him to follow you.
While you and Shouto had gone to get the final wedding arrangements, Shinsou had managed to get Bakugou to calm down and sit. This arrangement was simple, and there were only twelve of them you needed to make, and before you knew it, everyone was leaving, waving as they went. Only Shouto stayed behind, helping you put away the chairs and the tables, while also setting the flowers into the freezer until they would be collected.
It was almost midnight by the time the two of you had cleaned up the shop, and Shouto leaned against the counter while you sprawled onto the floor, exhausted. 
“I think,” you mumble, exhaustion fluttering through you. “I think Imma just, sleep here.”
“I’m not going to let you do that,” Shouto sighs, walking over to you. “You’re bordering disgusting right now, and you need to shower before sleeping.”
“I’m not trying to impress anyone right now,” you point your finger at him definitely. “I think I can become one with the ground right now.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Shouto decided, pulling you up to your feet. Something that made you groan and press your forehead to his chest when you got you up. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll walk you to your stairs.”
Snorting, you shake your head, pushing him away, “No, it’s okay, I was just being annoying. Besides, I need to lock up down here once you leave.”
Shouto frowns, but he doesn’t move to argue with that, because it was true. 
“I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning!” you insist, smiling sweetly up at the man who was wearing one of your bandanas. 
“Okay,” Shouto finally agreed, moving towards the door.
When you got to the door, ready to see him out, Shouto paused. 
He turned to you, his head tilting, and your lips parted to question him, but before any words could fall from your tongue, he raised his hand.
In his hand, he rested a pink arusutoromeria. It was most definitely a leftover from one of the arrangements statement flowers, but it sat daintily in his hand. Under the moonlight, it was almost ethereal in his hold, and you felt a small warmth build in your cheeks.
“That’s called stealing from my clients, ya know,” you tease, the exhaustion in you dying the moment you took the flower from his hand. “I’m going to have to take this out of your paycheck.”
“Don’t pay me,” Shouto insisted softly, his lips peeking into a half-smile. “I would’ve helped, even if you hadn’t asked.”
“That’s ridiculous, I wouldn’t have let you,” you shove his arm, but he went unmoved. His two-colored eyes shining in mirth while continuing to stare at you. 
“I know,” he whispers, his gaze holding yours. “Goodnight, y/l/n.”
“Goodnight, Todoroki-san.”
Shouto licked his lips, his face wincing just the smallest bit before shaking his head, “I think you can drop the formality, we’re passed that.”
You didn’t have time to react, only whispering his last name while he exited your shop into the nighttime. But you looked down at the arusutoromeria, otherwise known as the Alstroemeria Peruvian lily. The peachy and pink waxy petals smooth under your fingertip, but it made your heart warm.
Shouto really did pick the most beautiful flowers.
But why was it always for you?
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“The shop isn’t open today, Todoroki-chan!”
Shouto turned around to see two elders watching him while he had failed to open your shop’s doors.
“Oh, thank you,” he thanked them, bowing in greetings. “Do you know why? Y/l/n didn’t mention anything yesterday?”
“We do, actually! The park hosts the summertime festival, and they’re in charge of the floral arrangements you see going on there! Y/l/n might be there right now!”
Shouto nodded, the banners that had been advertising for the said festival had been up for the past two weeks.
“Thank you,” he said, leaving the two elders to themselves before returning to his own shop.
Today was a busy day, and since he wasn’t going to have time to spend his break with you, he decided he’d just move on to his latest client. Ignoring the questionative and gossiping look of Kaminari, he called on the girl who was here for her last touch up.
He’d go and see you when you returned. 
It was three in the morning when you were finally back at your shop. Festivals were indeed something of exhaustion. You spent six hours putting up flowers all over people's booths and stalls in order for things to look beautiful. Then when the festival began at three in the afternoon, you’d be in your own booth handing out single roses, lilies, and tulips to lovers, friends, and family who wanted to cheer others up.
Flower sales have always confused you. Flowers, after all, were almost pointless since most of them were bought without the roots and soil. You were gifting something that was on the verge of death that wouldn’t last longer than twenty-one days if you were lucky. But you couldn’t complain, on the other hand. The people’s faces that exploded with affection and love after receiving the flowers made it worth knowing that these dying presents had meaning to them.
But festivals by yourself were hell. 
Restocking the flowers, handling the money, trying to give out the flowers all by yourself had proven to be a handful. This was at the least a two-person job, and with your parents still not returning anytime soon, it was hard. You couldn’t ask anyone to help you because everyone you knew who would accept your money to work had to work until late today too.
But you had survived, as you had been for the past few months. So when you tiredly stabbed your key into the air, trying your best to get it into the lock, a sudden noise scared you.
Turning towards the sound, your tired eyes widened upon seeing Shouto walking out with a young woman next to him. She was tall, grand, and even with your tired, dried out, and blurry eyes, you could tell she was beautiful. You saw the way that politely and effortlessly giggled, her dark eyes warm and sweet while she talked to Shouto.
And Shouto, how you had entirely missed him today. But he was obviously enraptured by this woman, his facial features looking kind and sweet while they talked.
A weird feeling tightened in your stomach, what the hell was that? You blinked multiple times, your head muggy and far too foggy for your liking. This wasn’t your business, you thought, finally succeeding in opening your shop door. But with a strong pull of the wagon you had, you watched in horror as the top bins clattered to the floor.
You hauled the wagon in, desperate to get out there and get the remaining fallen items off the floor. You thought having eaten only breakfast today would have rendered you unable to be as stupidly strong as you were at that moment. But as you went to pick up the boxes, you saw Shouto approaching you, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“Oh, hey, Todoroki!” you laugh, trying to lift the boxes, but you were failing at it. “I didn’t see you all day, how are you?”
Shouto shrugged, his lower lips jutting out slightly too. 
“Good, I didn’t realize you were working for the festival, all day at that,” he admitted while moving to help you. “How’d it go.”
“Well,” you think about it, watching your friend take the boxes from your hands and holding them with ease despite your own fumbling. “I, um… it was hard.”
Shouto listened to you while you explained how you handled your booth on your own. How this was one of the busiest festivals your city hosted and how you hadn’t had time to relax since the festival began at three. He listened to you without making any input of his own, the occasional chuckle from hearing about entitled customers, or customers who thought buying a red rose for someone they were going to break up with was a bad idea. 
Cleaning up with Shouto with you was relaxing and welcoming, his presence was always one you received, and after a long day, it was sweet and soft. 
But while in his explanation as to who the lady — Yaoyorozu Momo, as he named her — was doing at his shop so late, your stomach wailed in hunger. Your face burned in embarrassment, your appetite finally remaking its appearance. 
Shouto chuckled, finding glee in your horror before nodding towards the hallway that leads to the staircase of your home. He had been up there a handful of times now, and he smirked, “I’ll make you something since we didn’t eat together today.”
“How can I trust you’re a good chef,” you ask, despite already making your way to the upper level of the shop, ready to stay up even longer with Shouto.
The next hour is spent with the two of you eating and talking. The conversation between the two of you is light and flowing smoothly. You’re on the couch with him, a blanket on your laps while you rest your head against his shoulder.
“Tell me about your tattoos,” you mumble, your exhausted body feeling warm and safe against his right side. 
“Which one?” he asked, shifting his left arm towards you so that way you could continue resting on him.
“Any,” you sigh, your fingers brushing against his wrist. “They’re all beautiful.”
So he does.
Shouto tells you about the special ones first. The fire on his left wrist, the ice on the right. They were his first tattoos, something he had associated with himself since he could remember, but a symbol of how they were both significant parts, equal in their fury, but gentle, beautiful, and healing when needed. He had dizzying patterns on his right side, something he had always acquitted to being his more assertive side. The designs were distinctive and almost dizzying to look at, but each pattern he had drawn, each twist and turn meaning something. The black ink was daunting, powerful, and reserved. He even admitted to letting his friends color in the spaces where you could still see his pale flesh, it was something that he enjoyed because even being as old as he was, the childlike entertainment never left when someone did it.
His left side was stunning though, every color in the rainbow melting and mixing on his skin. This side was artistic, bold, a creation of vibrant dreams, and they warmed you up while he explained every secret behind them. He was scary on this side if you couldn’t find the outlines of each clashing drawing, but up close, with your breath gently warming his skin while you peered at his skin, you realized just how gentle it really was. It wasn’t scary or overwhelming. It was quiet, warm, and a soft gesture to who he used to be, and who he was now.
The two of you were close friends, nothing could ever say otherwise, but as the two of you lay on the couch together, you positioned between his legs, your head laying on his chest. Sleep was a mere kiss away when you snuggled into his chest, your finger pressing against the t-shirt he wore.
“I think I’m ready… for you to draw me up a tattoo… do you think you can surprise me, though? I have no ideas…” you mumbled into his chest.
“Of course,” Shouto responded back, and before you could blink, the world turned dark, sleep consuming you in a gentle embrace. 
You weren’t sure if you imagined the feel of his soft lips on your forehead, but when you woke up the next morning, you were alone. The blanket was tucked around you, pillows resting under your head, and a flower sat on the coffee table before you.
A kaneshon.
A carnation.
Your cheeks warmed at the sight of it, knowing immediately that it was left behind by Shouto. Grabbing the flower within your fingers, you pressed the sweet-smelling flower to your nose. If he continued doing this, there was no stopping the way you felt towards him.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ Five ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
Two weeks later.
“So, what do you think of this?”
You were sitting in Shouto’s private room where he had his tattoo appointments, you were by the wall, sitting on a stool by a desk where he was showing off his tattoo design for you. It was stunning; honestly, it had everything in the world that you could be asking for.
Simple, elegant, and sophisticated.
It fit your personality, hopes, and dreams. 
It was perfect. 
“Wow,” you barely managed to breathe, your fingers touching the sketch he had presented to you. Was feeling it okay? You hoped so.
“Do you… do you like it?” Shouto asked, his eyes trying to read your face, but failed to see how you reacted because he was behind you.
“This is amazing, Todoroki,” you shake your head, pulling back to stare at your friend with a great smile. “I mean, I know I said I wanted you to draw me one, but I wasn’t expecting you to make it so… personalized to me.”
“...you’re special to me,” Shouto admitted, his body both relaxing and tensing under your gaze. “I had to make this special for you.”
“Well, you sure did!” you agree with a laugh, your cheeks warm with your grin. “But how much will this be?”
“4,000 yen,” Shouto answered with a straight face.
You laughed in his face, remembering that all their starting prices were much more than that, “Come on, don’t be ridiculous. How much?”
“I wasn’t lying,” Shouto confirms, his gaze unwavering. “I like you a lot, and you mean a lot to me, so I’m giving you a discount.”
Your jaw drops, you’re unable to speak, words failing you with every breath. “A discount, not a free tattoo.”
“It’s not free, I’m still making you pay.”
“Yeah, and even I know that price is absurd!”
The two of you argue for some time, the money you throw down on his desk is immediately slammed back into your wallet. You feel close to victory; that is, until Shouto threatens to make your tattoo actually free. To that, your lips twist, a defeated look in your eyes while you huff.
“Fine,” you spat, turning around ready to leave the shop, given that your break was nearing its end. 
“Y/n,” he calls out suddenly, and the way that your name sounds on his lips makes you shiver. He had started to call you by your given name as of late, and to hear his warm and deep voice say your name made you wonder why you two hadn’t done this earlier. After all, the two of you were too close. 
“Shouto?”
He looks ready to speak, his tongue wetting his lips while he stares at you, unsure what to say to what to do.
“What did you think of the kaneshon?”
Two weeks later and he had finally spoken about the flower he had left behind.
“It was beautiful, I loved it,” you smiled in return, but you didn’t miss the way that his eyes seemed to cloud at those words. Obviously, those weren’t the words he wanted to hear, but what was it that he wanted? “Another flower to add to my collection.”
Shouto’s lips quirk into a smile, and you watch while he reaches behind his bench and pulls out a tsubaki. You’re silent as he walks it over to you, pressing the gentle stem into your hand.
“For you,” he whispers, and you can feel your heart hammering in your ears at how close he is. The dim lights of his room, the smell of ink, bleach, and, most importantly, Shouto sending your blood into a craze. 
Kiss him, your brain told you, but you were frozen, too busy counting the number of eyelashes he had. 
“You didn’t buy this from me, what are you doing helping my competition?” were the words that came to your mouth instead of the confession you so wanted to give.
“No,” Shouto laughs softly, and he adjusts his position almost to give you dizzying fantasies of him kissing you. “I’m growing them, actually.”
“Oh, so you’re my competition,” you tease, and Shouto sighs, his eyes rolling and nods.
“Yeah, the tattoo shop was a decoy to us becoming the best flower shop in all of Japan.”
“Sounds like I should be worried.”
“Oh, you should.”
There was no denying the fact that the distance between your bartering lips was disappearing, but the shrill beep of your alarm destroyed the space between the two of you as you stepped away. You had an appointment to get to after all.
“Um, dinner?” you ask, stumbling to the door. “Sounds good?”
Shouto nods, his lips in a small smile, “See you then.”
With the camellia clenched tightly into your hands, your blood boiling in your destroyed passions, and the sounds of the others saying goodbye while you left, you felt weird when entering your flower shop, one thought running repetitively in your mind. 
You had feelings for Shouto.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ Six ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆
You twirled the akaichurippu in your fingers.
It had been two months since you worked out you had feelings for Shouto, one week since he had given you this flower, six days since he started avoiding you, and two days since your parents had finally returned home.
With the three of you now running the shop, you were able to relax a whole bunch more. Your parents had returned on a honeymoon mode, their gazes wistful and in love, finding it almost hard to readjust to the life they had left behind for a year. It had been a year since you had met Todoroki Shouto, and you were baffling in love with him. But you had done something obviously because he was avoiding you like the plague.
He hadn’t been over in six days, and they had been such lonely days without him. Of course, once your parents had come home, it had been grossly lively with their romantic sighs and glees, but it didn’t do much to qualm the Shouto sized hole in you. 
Stupid Shouto, stupid feelings, stupid everything.
Tossing the flower onto the counter, you sat up from your slumped state, watching as your dad swung your mom in a circle. Stupid parents with their stupid love, you bitterly added while puffing out your cheeks.
“Wow, what’s that look for!” your dad caught on immediately, staring at your unamused form. He trailed his gaze down to the red akaichurippu, otherwise known as the red tulip, while your mother stood up herself.
There was a shocked gasp coming from them both, and you watched as your parents approached the counter like excited children, the flower being picked up by your mother.
“Who gave you this?!” your mother asked, her eyes sparkling in glee, and your dad seemed conflicted in the same delight, and distinctive stern dad look. 
“Shouto,” you sighed, your eyes rolling.
“The one that’s ignoring you?”
“The very same!”
“That’s strange,” your dad’s eyebrows furrowed, his head tilting. “He’s just next door, and he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon… why is he ignoring you after giving you the eternal love flower?”
You froze.
“I’m sorry, what?!”
“The red akaichurippu flower is the symbol of eternal love,” your mom explained as if it was basic knowledge. “They’re much more romantic than a boring red rose, in my opinion. You’re also a florist y/n, why don’t you know these meanings or intentions?”
“Oh my god,” you said in horror, and you stood up, racing upstairs to grab the flowers you had dried and pressed. The flowers he had given you throughout this year.
Your parents were shocked when you slammed down the book with flowers, your fingers shaking excessively.
“What do these mean,” you demand, your fingers shaking while you point at the different flowers.
“Ajisai: apologies and gratitude.”
“Himawari: adoration, loyalty, and longevity.”
“Arusutoromeria: devotion, loyalty, ‘I like you,’ friendship.”
“Pink kaneshon: affection.”
“Tsubaki: humility, discretion, and perfect love.”
Red akaichurippu: eternal love.
Red akaichurippu: eternal love.
“I have to go!” you yelled, racing out of the store, the ringing bell and following shouts of your parents doing nothing as you ran into the tattoo shop.
“Shinsou!” you called at the purple-haired man who was staffing the front desk, obviously having no scheduled appointments today. “Is Shouto—?”
“No, he’s taking his break right now,” Shinsou smirked, his eyes full of amusement, which spoke to his knowledge of what was going on. “You can go in.”
You smiled and went down the hallways of the tattoo shop that you knew intimately. You could hear the buzzing of the tattoo guns going off in Bakugou and Midoriya’s rooms, the light chatter that came with passing Kaminari’s room until you made it to Shouto’s room.
It was quiet inside, and as you opened the door to step inside, the flower in your hand feeling heavier than lead when you saw Shouto sitting at his desk, eating cold soba slowly.
“Shouto?” you called, and Shouto didn’t move, obviously ignoring you. 
“Come on, don’t ignore me,” you plead, moving towards the bench only to have him turn towards you, his eyes blank, cold, angry, and burning through you when he faced you. So maybe he wasn’t ignoring you? “Okay, uh, thank you for looking at me, but I need to explain something to you!”
“Make it quick, my break’s done in two minutes.”
A cold sweat erupts in your body, and you thrust the red tulip out.
“Eternal love,” you say quickly, your body shivering at that statement, and Shouto looks at you, then at the flower, then back at you. 
“Yeah, I knew that already, idiot.”
Your jaw drops, and the smallest bits of annoyance pricks at you. You often forgot what it was like to be under his calculating words and not being at his side, laughing at the victims of his words. 
“Okay, well, I didn’t,” you continue on, your fists dropping at your side, annoyance, fear, happiness, and love flooding through your body. “I’m a florist, I know that. I have lived my life as the child of florists, and I have taken on their trade, but one thing I never knew about was flower meanings.”
“What?”
You shake your head, your gaze dropping to the flower in your embarrassment, “I’ve never known any flower meaning outside of funeral flowers, the red rose, and spider lilies, but that’s because of the culture behind it, not necessarily because of the language of flowers. And I was mad at you today, so I had this flower out, and my parents who do know about flower language told me what this meant, and every other flower you’ve bought for me… I didn’t realize you were confessing to me using flowers… I didn’t ever expect a tattoo artist to know the meanings! Had you been a florist yourself, then maybe I would have thought to look up the meanings behind the flowers, but I just assumed it was you picking flowers out because they were pretty.”
“Flower tattoos are popular,” Shouto breathes, his eyes swimming with flashing emotions while he rises to his feet. “It’s sort of my job to know the difference. I mean… you brought over peonies that first night, and they’re a flower you use to welcome other people, so I figured you knew.”
“No,” you laugh breathlessly. “I only picked those out because they were the only flowers I had leftover from that day… I guess you would make an amazing florist after all,” you chuckle, your heart hammering in your whole being while he stepped closer to you. “I’m a blunt person, straightforward confessions are the only way to deal with me.”
“Most blunt confessions have always ended with rejection from me,” Shouto states, his fingers grabbing onto your waist. “That tends to scare people off.”
“Try it with me,” you whisper, your fingers resting on his broad shoulders, the shiver under your skin electrifying as you knew what was happening.
“I’m in love with you, y/l/n y/n,” Shouto grinned, and you didn’t give yourself a chance at responding because you slammed your lips against his.
It was a passionate kiss, one that had your back arched into him, the flower falling from your fingers and onto the floor. Heads tilted with your dancing lips, and fuck was every gentle caress of his lips, sending your mind in a whirl.
More and more, your lips slanted against each other, and there was no say as to what was going to happen next. You pulled away, a galaxy in both your eyes and a desire, a promise for more when he would meet your lips again.
“Shouto, your three o’clock is here!”
The two of you froze, and you laughed, your lips meeting his that sought after yours for the kiss was too short.
“We’ll talk later.”
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