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vagabondfandoms · 29 days

Text

Falls On Me

Day 5- Goblin Camp: 3 AM

Rating: Teen/Mature

Previous Chapters: Chapter One , Chapter Two , Chapter Three , Chapter Four , Chapter Five , Chapter Six , Chapter Seven ½ , Chapter Seven 2/2

Characters: Gale Dekarios, F!Tav: Copper. With small appearances from Karlach and Lae'zel. Mystra mentioned.

Tags/Warning: Gale POV, Mentions of Chronic Pain, Gale x Female Tav, Light Flirting, Sharing Personal Information with A Crush, "Cuddling" Sorry Minthara lovers, she's not appearing in this story. Approx: 3000 words

The Tadpole Troupe has defeated 2 out of 3 goblin leaders. They are taking some time to plot their next moves against Dror Ragzlin. But Gale finds himself very low on magic and he can't bring himself to relax before the final fight. However, a certain monk insists he needs to rest and she'll help him do it!

---

Weariness settles deep in Gale’s bones as his orb pulsates unpleasantly in his chest, causing a constant but bearable amount of pain to tingle throughout his body. Gale has never been this low on magic before in all his life. He theorizes the orb is extremely unhappy about this fact and is throwing a temper tantrum as punishment.

All Gale wants to do is lay down for the night in hopes his innate inner weave regenerates enough to calm the hungry beast. But that wish is currently impossible since he is on guard duty, like everybody else, until this whole mess with the goblins is finished. Currently, Gale is strategically stationed at one of the exits of the temple and he wants to avoid appearing like the weak link in the group, whining about missing bedtime. He’ll stay on the lookout for any wandering goblins, as long as possible even if he needs to use his staff to keep himself standing upright.

“Everything will be over soon,” Gale thinks, trying to encourage himself as more pain shoots through his chest causing him to lean on the wall for support, his staff firmly placed on the ground.

The Tadpole Troupe already assassinated the goblin priestess and the drow paladin earlier in the night. Only Dror Ragzlin is left and Astarion comes down from the rafters to report that the hobgoblin commander is busy in the back of the temple trying to communicate with a dead mind flayer, not even aware that his fellow leaders were defeated by a small group of infiltrators.

“Only one commander left and they will be free of this place…but not from the tadpoles,” Gale thinks, recalling Halsin’s words that he was unable to cure them of their tadpole since they are magically enhanced. They’ll need to go to Moonrise Towers to figure out why but Lae’zel is already lobbying hard to head to the Githyanki creche nearby…

A noise alerts Gale to somebody approaching his location so he stops ruminating. The footsteps are loud but not many so he peels himself away from the wall and stands upright, hoping he looks effortlessly strong, witty, and ready for anything that rounds his corner of the altar room. He hopes it's just a friend relieving him of his guard post instead of another goblin he has to kill quickly and quietly.

“Hey, Wizard,” Karlach calls out to him in what she must consider her inside voice, which Gale thinks is still a couple of decibels too loud. “Time to rotate out. I think there's something special waiting for you by the fire!”

“Ohh, thank the gods.” Gale sighs in relief, ignoring the playful way Karlach was talking to him. The tiefling has been in a particularly good mood ever since the troupe changed tactics and went after the goblin leaders instead of escaping with Halsin, who refused outright to leave until all the goblin leaders were dead anyway. So Gale thought nothing of her extra good-natured ribbing.

After a quick report to Karlach about the activity of the goblins in his side of the hall, Gale walks wearily to the former living quarters of Priestess Gut. These rooms were acting as their makeshift campsite as they slowly exterminate the goblins within the temple. It was a small camp, only made for one or two people at a time. They had no bedrolls or blankets with them but if somebody dared they could lay in Gut’s bed but the thought makes Gale shudder. He’s pretty sure he smells something rotten wafting from the sheets.

There was a cookpot, however, for a quick pick-me-up drink of sib but Gale really wished for coffee since he doesn't have much of a taste for drinks made of roots and herbs found near a goblin camp.

Rounding the corner, Gale finally sees what Karlach was teasing him about. Sitting next to the fire was Copper in deep meditation. In the past day or two, Gale has been making a blundering fool of himself in front of the monk and Karlach must have caught on that he holds some feelings for Copper.

“All physical feelings of course,” Gale tells himself. He hasn't been around people in over a year. So of course his hormones will go a little wild in front of a beautiful person, and to be fair there are several around, the monk isn't even the prettiest. But Copper has been the nicest to him out of everybody in the party so it's not surprising his brain is seeking out her kindness. “Her quick thinking, nerves of steel, and selflessness aren’t unbecoming either…” His mind supples and he shakes the thought away.

Gale is about to open his mouth to say hello to the monk but he closes it quickly as he watches the fire dance to Copper's breathing. There was a slight disturbance in the Weave surrounding the woman, making Gale curious. Copper said she had no talent or interest in using magic. But here she is making the flame rise and shrink with just her slow steady breaths.

Gale reaches out a hand to connect to the disturbance and finds himself encountering a purely magical force with no sign of Mystra's presence anywhere within. His curiosity spikes even more and he subconsciously drives right on in, soaking up the magic, feeling the orb become slightly satiated. Riding the heat of the crackling fire, feeling welcomed by the magic source, Gale suddenly encounters another presence enjoying the flame.

“Gale?”

He quickly opens his eyes and finds Copper staring at him, the warm flames reflecting in her grey eyes makes them appear orange and bright. “I just felt you within my soul.” Copper says, worry in her voice, as she chews on her lip.

“Why the nervousness?” Gale thinks, noticing the striking difference between Copper’s current tone and behavior compared to her earlier commanding battle presence. It causes him to pause to understand the juxtaposition of these two personalities. Then he realizes once again this woman is more complex than she lets on.

“Sorry for the intrusion.” Gale quickly apologizes, choosing to set aside his curiosity and go with the easy answer of not everybody likes sharing parts of themselves- souls, minds, or other things. “I was just investigating the magical disturbance around the fire.”

“Disturbance?” Copper questions, a frown creases her eyebrows and Gale notices she must have done that action thousands of times before since there’s a wrinkle that looks at home between her auburn brows. This fact makes Gale smile since he also has some wrinkles married to his face and it was nice running around with somebody of similar age instead of the youth (Wyll, Lae’zel, and Karlach) and the ever-looking youthful (Shadowheart, Astarion, and Halsin).

“Yes, the flames were dancing. It looked like it was reacting to your breath.” Gale says, looking back at the fire and noticing it returned to normal once the monk’s focus is turned to him and not the inner world she retreats to for meditation.

“Strange, I wasn't trying to move the fire. I was restoring my Ki for the battle ahead.”

“Ahh, she talking about Ki again.” Gale mentally kicks himself for not reading more about this topic in the libraries of Waterdeep. His knowledge is sadly sparse on the topic of Ki.

But why focus on an inferior “magic” system when you have the Weave so readily available?

“You said you had no talent in spells but I think the fire was telling us something different,” Gale says causally as he kneels to sit beside the monk. Sighing at the relief his bones were feeling but now his chest was heavy with unwanted memories of the past.

“I am a tad bit jealous the magic is so welcoming towards you when it’s been ignoring me, the resident wizard!” Gale tries to make a lighthearted laugh but it comes out flat. “There was a time when I could make this fire come to life as well. I could shape it like a dragon and make it roar in delight.” Gale casually waves his hand, a small flicker of hope resting in his palm that the fire would respond to his desires, but disappointment answers once again.

“There was a time I could silence a Beholder with a word, and lift a tower from its foundations with a flourish.” Gale proudly declares then drops his hand, weariness settling in deep as he stares longingly into the fire, wishing Mystra would answer. “There was a time I was all but one with the Weave. But no more, I am a mere shadow of the wizard I used to be… because I’ve lost…”

His courage to utter Mystra’s name out loud breaks and there’s a long pause with neither person talking but their breathing syncs up. Gale glances over to Copper and sees she’s also lost in thought, a far-off look in her eyes like she is also revisiting an unpleasant memory.

He was going to give up on company for the rest of the night but Copper finally asks in a low voice. “Who are you? Before this?”

“A man…” He stops not wanting to tell her the full truth. “A wizard with a considerable amount of acclaim and a scholar of exceptional accomplishments,” Gale smirks, reciting his old line to Copper.

The woman must realize this and pushes his shoulder and calls him a “tease” under her breath. He likes being called a tease and laughs at the small push. Settling back down firmly on his butt, he feels a little lighter and decides to tell her a little more of the truth. “But in all seriousness, I was a former archmage and ex-chosen of Mystra.”

Copper’s eyes grow huge at his statement, murmuring “Chosen of Mystra” under her breath.

He feels a little flicker of pride at the statement. Once that title gave him great joy but now he can’t even claim it after Mystra dismissed him. He can’t even claim the archmage title now, even after 18 years of learning, since his skills greatly diminished with the orb lodged in his chest, eating up his natural talents in the process.

“What about you?” Gale causally asks. “You are no mere monastery monk. Not with the way you formulated those battle plans to quickly minimize the goblin forces against us.”

Gale feels a spell of weariness and pain hitting him, causing his head to spin a little but he ignores it in favor of talking to the woman in front of him. “I was very impressed with how quickly and thoroughly you acted earlier with that Loviatar Priest and getting everybody motivated to fight…even if I was reluctant at first. I thought an all-out battle was unwise but you proved that a group of 7 now 8 including the druid can take on a whole army if we take some… unprecedented tactics.”

Copper blushes a little at Gale’s praise but then gives him a big smirk. “I’m just a woman with… a considerable amount of no acclaim and a monk…” Gale cuts her off with a loud huff before she can finish mimicking his speech from earlier.

“Heeeey, I know where this is going.” He rolls his eyes at her joke and smiles softly. “For real though. Who were you before all this?”

Copper turns to the fire, biting her lips again before answering. “A junior captain and for a short time a captain of the second division of the Third Sons Mercenary group.” She gives out a weary sigh and keeps talking. “I was a soldier for 17 years so I guess some of that rubbed off today.”

Gale blinks. A lot of things just added up about this woman with this new piece of information. “A captain… of the Third Sons.” He’d heard of that mercenary group before. A large band of military soldiers. They sometimes came through Waterdeep for mercenary work but usually stayed in the Dalelands.”

“Is that why Karlach calls you Soldier?” Gale blurts out before he can ask a more eloquent question. It seems like his brain is having a hard time functioning since he’s low on magic and his orb is famished.

“Karlach and I think Lae’zel noticed right away I have some military training…” Copper answers. “But nobody else picked up on it. It’s not like I go waving around a sword. So if you aren’t accustomed to living that kind of lifestyle you might not pick up on the telltale oddities a soldier habitually performs in their daily lives.”

Gale hears most of what Copper says but his head feels hazy as another spasm of pain runs through his body. He must have pitched forward because he finds himself being caught by Copper before he can fall head-first into the fire.

“Gale! Are you ok?” Copper asks, worry in her eyes as she pulls him up into a sitting position. Gale tries to move away from Copper, not wanting to appear weak, but she has a steady grip on his shoulder.

After struggling wearily for a second he stops fighting and just relaxes into the support. “I just need this day to be over with but alas it is only morning,” Gale says wearily gritting his teeth at another wave of pain. “I’m extremely low on magic but I can’t sleep in these circumstances.”

“We only have a couple of hours left before we head for the final assault on Dror Ragzlin. Copper calmly states, unaware of how picky a person Gale can be. “Why don’t you sleep by the fire?”

“On what? We don’t have any blankets and I’m not going anywhere near that goblin bed!” A pitiful whine escapes from the wizard as he leans his head on the woman’s shoulders. “I’ll wake up covered in fleas and gods knows what else.”

Gale feels himself getting shifted slightly as Copper rummages through her pockets. He guesses he should start moving away from her. Support himself. But it feels nice leaning on her when his head is spinning.

“It looks like I have about 15 minutes left of my break.” Copper says quietly, as Gale peeks over her shoulder and sees the pocketwatch he lent to the group in her hand. He feels a little sore whenever he looks at that silver timepiece because he bought it for his ill-fated journey to win Mystra’s favor. It reminds him of all his failures but he just can’t throw it away.

Gale and his silver pocket watch’s fates are tied together now.

“How about you lay your head in my lap and I’ll try to restore some of your Ki while you rest?” Copper looks over at him and smiles. “I’ll wake you up when I leave and at least you get to rest your eyes a little before then.”

Gale pauses, realizing the position he is in, and starts pushing away from the monk. “No… I don’t think that would be appropriate. Plus, you’ll be using up the Ki you just restored on me!”

“Gale, stop.” Copper gives out a command, her voice strict and unwavering. “I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t for the benefit of the group. We need you in the morning on the back lines. We couldn’t have done half the things we did yesterday-defeated all those strong foes if it wasn’t for you and your magic. We need you up and at least halfway able-bodied. Please let me help you!”

Gale stops his struggling and just stares at the floor letting Copper’s words sink in. He did do a considerable amount of spellwork yesterday-summoning illusions, sending out fireball after fireball, even casting an arcane lock on the temple door to seal everybody inside until they defeated the goblins and their commanders.

But it doesn’t seem enough.

He hasn’t done nearly enough.

He isn’t enough.

Gale is a poor substitute for who he once was to warrant this amount of kindness, dare he say it… sacrifice. Copper wants to give up the rest of her break time and use the power she worked to restore to allow him to regain just a little of his…”What about you?” He asks seriously.

“I’ll be fine.” Copper says quietly as she lets go of Gale’s shoulders and waits for him to decide. “I can rest and regain my Ki standing up. I am a former soldier after all. Resting upright and staying alert is a requirement for any successful military siege.”

Hearing those words all of Gale’s resistance fades and without saying a word he shifts to a sitting position and just pats one of Copper’s legs to indicate she should kneel for him. Copper does what he wants without saying a word, adjusting herself so they both are comfortable.

Gale is a little nervous laying his head in her lap. Just earlier in the night, he saw this woman kill and man with these thighs. Not only that, the last time he’s been this close to somebody’s core was with Mystra and the Goddess of Magic was not fond of cuddling…

He is about to get up and just call off this whole deal when Copper starts rubbing his temples and Gale just melts into the touch. “She’s killed a man with these hands…but they are so gentle with me.” The circular motions move up his skull and then the warm fingers start combing through his hair to massage his scalp underneath. It feels heavenly, if he could purr he would.

Gale’s eyes begin to droop shut but he can see in the soft glow of her Ki, Copper fighting back a smile.

“Remember to wake me when you have to go…”

---

Gale wakes up to a boot nudging his side. He looks up beadily, sleep still in his eyes, and sees an angry-looking Githyanki looking down at him.

“Istick, Get up!” Lae’zel says sternly. “Copper ordered us to allow you to rest, to restore your strength, until the assault on the…” She pauses thinking before continuing, sounding out the foreign word. “Ho-bo-gob-lin… Now it’s time to wake up. I hope your extra sleep serves us well in battle.”

“It’s pronounced hobgoblin, Lae’zel.” Gale corrects before standing up and stretching. A quick check of his body indicates he’s not sore and his orb isn’t as hungry. A smile forms on his face at the sensation and the memories of why his body feels so good. But it quickly turns to a frown at the sight of the impatience Githyanki and the thought of all the teasing he’ll receive from the others.

“Really Copper, you should have woken me.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale dekarios #gale waterdeep #gale x tav #oc: copper #karlach #lae'zel #nico jero writes

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bakugoushotwife · 6 months

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HELLO i hope you're well despite shibuya arc happening but anyways-

i would like to get a match-up with a jujutsu kaisen man, preferably a romantic relationship<3

i'm an intj, capricorn (and that's all i know when it comes to my astrology lmao) and i take interest in languages, as well in all form of art and lately i got interested in tarot cards! wish to have them tbh. but besides that i am a pretty open person with mood swings from time to time. although i like to think of myself as a lil menacing gremlin, i think i'm closer to being described as a soft girl lmao

ANYWAY THANK YOU IN ADVANCE AND HAVE A NICE LIFE AND TAKE CARE AND DONT LET SHIBUYA ARC GET TO YOU ITS ALL A DREAM

his nessie ness, shibuya has me down criminally, but we'll get through it together. sorry i took my time with this lol, i hope you can forgive me!! ship below the cut!!

i ship you with...

i think you guys would have that comfortable silence type of relationship.

i dunno why i see it that way, just like two independent people doing their own thing together, like parallel play almost lol

you're writing and reading and doing your art while he plays his nintendo switch and lets his shikigami run around the house to burn some steam

he would definitely get weirded out by the tarot at first lol

he just doesn't believe in all that stuff, but you manage to talk him into a reading and he's kinda surprised and even more weirded out by the results

but he networks for you and kinda gets you out there and suddenly you're doing fun readings for the whole school

though w shibuya that might not be a great idea-

he enjoys learning about your home country and you try to teach him your language as he tries to teach you his- though you may have to operate in english where all else fails while you're learning

he likes that even though you're introverted like him, you find it easy to make friends as you're generally more open than him

big cuddle guy

even if you're both still on your phones, if it's bedtime--he's wrapped around you i don't make the rules

will bring the dogs out for sleeping if you promise you won't cuddle them more than him

you lie

but he'll repeat the process every night and get you breakfast in the morning because he's a softie that loves you <3

@ness-iness

#kyleedoesmatchups #jjk ships #the queen's counsel #finally getting these out

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chromalogue · 1 year

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In which I am a brazen fool

Last week was kind of strenuous. I knew it was going to be.

Monday was a normal day.

Tuesday evening I was supposed to attend a guest lecture put on by a research centre I'd like to join.

Wednesday started with an early lecture by a friend, put on by another research centre I'd like to join, on a topic I'm interested in. Then I had to hop on a bus to the downtown campus for a meeting with an administrative person looking for input from international researchers. Then dinner with the same colleague from that morning's lecture, plus another colleague who I hadn't met yet but who also has similar research interests.

Thursday was an evening reception for international postdocs.

Friday was my 6 AM wakeup and then six solid hours of German class, followed by shopping and laundry.

And then, because last week was special, wretchedly early on Saturday morning was another four hours of German class to make up for the holiday on Good Friday.

So I already knew I was setting myself up for exhaustion and not getting much done. My compromise with my sleep disorder, for which my partner and family roundly mock me, is maintaining a fairly strict bedtime between 2:30 and 3:30, which requires something like military discipline for me, because I have to be really exhausted to be anything like tired at that time. The only way I can manage it is to have near-complete control over my schedule and nothing else at all going on. But it means I get to work around noon at the earliest, eat a wholesome breakfast in the cafeteria, and am in my office from around 12:30-11 or so. So, evening events mean sharply curtailed days, and morning ones mean less sleep. Of course.

And the compromise I've made with my pathologically thorough style of note-taking is that I dictate my notes. This I started in earnest because the electronic lock on my apartment door used to stick and I gave myself a repetitive strain injury always turning the knob, and spent three months in a tensor bandage. I continued with it even after typing stopped hurting, because I usually take about thirty pages of notes per hundred pages I read, and dictating that goes a lot faster than typing, even though Microsoft speech-to-text is hilariously terrible and requires hours of correcting afterwards. So like, one of the things I had to do during these very short workdays was dictate a lot of notes in a very little bit of time.

Well, the Tuesday lecture ended in a trip to a restaurant, where I enjoyed excellent Italian food and hours of good conversation with people from the research centre. On Wednesday, the meeting with the administration was catered, with little bites of things in jars with spoons. I had exactly one hour of rapid-fire dictation before joining my colleagues at the restaurant, where we spent many pleasant hours and I ate my own weight in calamari.

Thursday was more rapid-fire dictation. By this time I was exhausted, and my throat was raw, and no wonder. When I arrived at the reception, a very excellent person asked me how I was doing, and I said that I was astonishingly grumpy for someone with no real problems. She said she hoped I'd feel better as the evening wore on. And then there was my supervisor, and beverages, and I took my mask off and drank apple juice out of a wine glass, and ate and drank and stayed to the end, which I didn't think I was going to be able to manage. And my mood improved, even though I was still tired enough that word-finding was a problem.

We heard some speeches, although the admin person I'd met the day before was supposed to give the keynote, and she was out sick now. At one point I wondered if I should put my mask back on, but I'd been eating and drinking in room with all these people for hours anyway, and I didn't want to make them feel uncomfortable.

On Friday I woke up with my throat even worse, and tried to take a covid test, but the one I'd bought had no liquid in the tube. (Later, I couldn't remember the German for "liquid"; I told the people at the store that the juice was missing.) So I put on an FFP2 mask, which here seems to be the equivalent of an N95, and went to my six hours of class. I tried to minimize the time I spent unmasked. When the window was open, I took advantage of the time to lift my mask a bit and shove in veggie salami and a bit of cheese.

I was feeling next-level tired, and my skin was starting to crawl in the way that a fever does. I picked up the (wrong, it turns out) cleaning disk I'd ordered for the Tassimo I found on the side of the road at the beginning of the month, got a couple more covid tests, and did some grocery shopping. I bought fruit. Like, lots and lots of fruit. Ridiculous amounts. Blueberries, strawberries, grapefruit, passionfruit, grapes, cherries. It looked so good.

The only thing that kept me from melting into a puddle of goo when I got the groceries home was the knowledge that if I didn't get my clothes into the building's washing machine as soon as possible, the person in #5 would put her clothes in. Also probably the dehydration. Laundry takes four hours, and ye gods, I did NOT want to prolong that today.

So I took a covid test--negative--and then grabbed my laundry. I shoved it all in, waited two hours, and went down to put it in the dryer, telling myself, only two more hours until I can put on jammies and curl up. Only the dryer was somehow full of #5's laundry, and had an hour and thirty-eight minutes left on the timer. (And I didn't think the timer went higher than 1:05, which in real time is about 2 hours.) And I thought about waiting whatever vast span of time 1:38 actually represented to be able to even put my laundry in the dryer, not to mention the two hours beyond that. And I took my wet clothes, shuffled to the elevator, and went upstairs. I hung them, quite certain that they would be dry before I was in clothes-wearing condition again.

Then I made myself some nachos, and crashed until about 5:30 in the morning. E-mailed my supervisor that I wouldn't be able to meet. Had my class. Slept some more. Watched Eurovision. (AWESOME with a fever; 10/10 would recommend. Finland was still robbed.)

Sunday I spent sneezing. Watched a film over Zoom.

Monday I woke up and the fever was gone. I felt like I had a bad head cold, but my energy was at about 80%. Back in the Before Times, this would have meant going to work, but it would be bad form now, so I decided I would go to the office after hours and pick up some things to work on.

I took a covid test. It was positive.

So. Then I had to e-mail all the people I was with last week, and warn them. And then I waited until evening, when no one would be in the office. I'd planned to take the bus if I tested negative, but as it was, I just picked the most secluded path to work, with the fewest stairs, and walked. I was masked the whole time I was indoors, and anytime I saw anyone on the street outdoors. I touched as little as I could in the common areas of the building, slathering my hands in sanitizer and opening doors with my elbows. Got my stuff. Got home. Felt better for the walk, frankly.

Normally I stay masked indoors in public (albeit in a surgical mask, the ones they call IIR here), and only unmask to eat and drink, but with all the catered meetings and dinners last week, that still amounted to something like eleven hours I spent unmasked in the presence of others. Last week I was feeling sheepish about staying masked as long as I did in front of them; this week I get to e-mail them all and tell them that I've exposed them to a potentially deadly disease through my carelessness. So far, I haven't heard of anyone getting sick, thank goodness, but I'm still not done.

#pestilence

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trashcanwithsprinkles · 1 year

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ahhhhhhhh

AHHHHH

the new chapter made me want to cry....... okay, maybe it's partly because of my state of mind which is partly my fault But. that doesn't change that so

(sequence of events: stressing about today yesterday -> idiot who didn't sleep until 5am because of being an idiot [me: i'll fix my sleep habits and sleep earlier. no more 1am bedtime. also me: *finally sleeps at 5am instead* me: no that wasn't supposed to happen, why- something is clearly wrong with this picture-] -> super busy morning. slightly stressful afternoon. thankfully didn't feel tired the whole day [how] though?? small mercies, small mercies -> finally get time to relax now that it's the evening and- *sees new chapter* oh my word the Happy Time is here *immediately drops all other thoughts and actions to Read*)

that was very emotional and. and also. i am an emotional person im a very simple person i feel Feels so hard when it comes to things such as this. (10/10 in every way and thank you- that could've been any day but it was a wonderful thing to come back to after being stressed and finally getting a chance to calm down a bit) so :D

so again always thank you for the wonderful fic stuff <3 i swear i owe so much in terms of mood and productivity to your and your fics rn and i wholly appreciate it. i will be getting strength from these fics for- idk, probably years to come???? once i latch on i refuse to let go. its the least i can do

now if you'll excuse me i now have to get back to using all my braincells on trying to do art things bc it will never feel like enough unless i do as much as is physically or probably more in this case, mentally possible. im also currently playing the fun guessing game of which of these will be my last anon before i finish these things and Yell. it is impossible for me to guess but i try to guess it anyway (funny how at first i was like mayyybe i can summon the courage to send one, maybe two anons. do art stuff. gently nudge it over here when it's done- and then somehow just started coming in here regularly in the meanwhile)

here let me give you a flower to somewhat make up for the rambly rambly shenanigans of myself when it comes to writing these 🌼 may you be having a good very nice lovely day :]

i'm glad last chapter was able to bring you comfort

#thank you;;;#<3

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fantastickkay · 28 days

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Album Review of the Week: The Righteous Brothers - Just Once In My Life (1965)

The Righteous Brothers have always been in my peripheral, familiar with the hits but that's about it. When my grandfather died, I inherited his record collection which included 3 albums from them. This one is produced by the [in]famous Phil Spector. Although, the legendary Unchained Melody was instead produced by member Bill Medley so it ended up as a B-Side to the single Hung On You. Of course, it became a massive and enduring hit. Later copies of the single somehow begin to show Phil Spector as the producer!

Because I don't listen to them very often, their voices are very nostalgic to me. Once I hit play on the record, I am instantly transported to the backseat of my grandpa's truck and listening to the oldies station on the way to the beach.

Just Once In My Life is another big hit off of this album. Their low voices are in great form. I love the melody, backup singers and full instrumentals. Makes for a dreamy track.

Things liven up a bit with Big Boy Pete. A mix of country and blues, this is a story-telling track describing some misadventures and injecting some fun into the usually serious sounds from the guys.

Unchained Melody, of course, is a legendary song that has been covered by many and even had a resurgence in the early 1990s thanks to the movie Ghost where it was a Billboard hit once again! I do tend to find this song a bit on the boring side, very slow. My favorite rendition is that of Elvis Presley's.

We get back into the blues with You Are My Sunshine, a spin on the classic children's song. This song borrows from the current trends a lot more than the preceding tracks, it is more like blues at the go-go. The first dance track of the bunch, that is for sure - quite fun!

A cover of The Great Pretender follows. I love the original so this does pale a bit in comparison, although their harmonies are especially beautiful!

Sticks and Stones gets back into the discotheque mood with this groovy track. I'm sure this was present at several dance parties at the time!

See That Girl sees the return of the familiar baritone in a sweet ballad perfect for a bedtime playlist. /yawn/

Oo-poo-pah-doo is a little silly diddy full of studio chatter sure to amuse the fans. I think it goes a little long and is a bit cringe by today's standards but it goes into a pretty fun blues track anyway!

You'll Never Walk Alone is a take on the classic gospel song. The solo vocals at the beginning sound great, although their voices are not melding together as nicely on this song as usual and the overall instrumentation sounds a bit messy, probably due to the "wall of sound" Phil Spector is known for.

Guess Who? is another sleepy time ballad, although it does sound very nice and I enjoy the little bells happening.

The Blues is a fun, bluesy jam written by Bill Medley. Bobby Hatfield needs a pop filter on his microphone really badly! The production on the vocals is very amateur.

I enjoyed most tracks on side 1, however side 2 is completely full of throwaways! I don't pay much attention to Phil Spector, but I know he has a crazy bad reputation and I have to say I am not impressed with his production on most of this as well. Bill Medley was a co-producer so some of the blame may lie there, but Phil is listed first and it's his label so he should take more care in what comes out under his name, just strictly referring to the production quality, not the songs themselves.

#album review #the righteous brothers #just once in my life #1965 #1960s #vinyl collection

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mental-mario · 7 months

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Part III: This Ain't for Me

Shockingly enough, the next morning came (at 7am with a knock to take vitals while half asleep at edge of bed), and I still wasn't "cured." Breakfast was French toast and powder eggs with decaf coffee and a side of meds. As I looked around at the other patients on the unit, most were much like myself: quiet, reserved, low energy. I don't like to say they seemed "normal" because that is an old stigma attached to mental health, but I will say there weren't many behaviors displayed except for a couple of instances. One rather tall gentleman kept jumping around, hogging the phone (probably with fake calls), and repeatedly asking everyone their names because he couldn't remember. Another patient seemed to move in slow motion and spoke inaudibly. Another paced the floor and talked to himself much of the time, as one might expect to see in a setting like this.

At 10am, it was group time! Group runs from 10-12 and then again from 1-3. "Group" in this case was not quite what I thought it would be. Patients from both units (some still opted not to go) met in a small room with two recumbent bikes, an elliptical, a treadmill, and a radio. There was also a table with playing cards and Guess Who, in case you didn't get enough of playing with yourself and board games. During this light exercise time, a member of the psych team would pull you for a one-on-one interview. Keep in mind, this has been over 24 hours since I checked into the ER, and finally getting the first opportunity to speak to someone with any authority to do anything. I spoke with the psych doc for probably 15-20 minutes while he took notes, and he was very friendly but didn't offer much insight. I then met briefly (less than 5 minutes) with the psych team, including some students and the attending physician, but this was just to reiterate what I said earlier in the one-on-one. They did say they would consider my discharge request but that legally they could still hold me for up to 72 hours after I signed the request. They also had me transferred to the front unit, which was smaller and quieter, since I don't do well with noise and had traumatic experiences in dorm living. After the interview, I had a few minutes sitting idly and zoning out. A patient at the adjacent table asked what I was staring at and yelled at me to stop. Naturally, I fired back with a, "I wasn't staring, and while we're on the topic, WTF are you staring at me for?!" This accomplished my mission of getting this person to get up and leave.

My wife came to visit me at lunchtime. I was the only one who had a visitor during my stay, and that made me even sadder. My kids were too young to be allowed to visit, and they were at school anyway. It was a surreal experience to have my wife visit and see me in this jumpsuit and in this atmosphere. She was highly supportive, but I felt deep embarrassment and shame. Still, I was happy to see a glimpse of my outside life. My wife already knew that this place was only making me worse. After lunch, which was by far the quickest hour of the day, my wife had to leave because it was time for group again! This time, they put us in teams and had us play a round of Scattergories as well as a rousing round of Jeopardy with a theme of OTC meds and remedies. If you're reading this and wondering how this was supposed to improve my mood and SI, I am still wondering as well. After that was mercifully over, we had idle time again all the way until bedtime, with the exception of dinner. We mostly sat around the dayroom area watching tv, with the highlight being when Mean Girls came on! I felt very aware of a sublime feeling in that moment of realization that I am trapped in a psych ward and watching Mean Girls. All I could do was laugh to myself. 8pm was snack time, and I got to get TWO snacks! So I chose a vanilla ice cream cup and a pouch of cinnamon golden grahams so that I could complete the nostalgic feeling of being completely controlled in my childhood. I did lose a few pounds over these few days, but I managed to gain it all back quickly when I could binge again. Anyway, my nighttime meds came on time this night, at 9pm, and I was able to go to bed from there. No reason to keep staying up. Trazodone did help me get to sleep, but my door kept opening and shutting all night. I'm pretty sure I was on 15 minute checks, even though that didn't happen the night before.

Next post will be Part IV and likely the conclusion of this story. Hopefully you've enjoyed it so far. If you have, please tip your blogger accordingly! I learned growing up that money and gifts were the way to express love, so shower your love and other bodily fluids all over me!! And while you're filling me up with your love, friend me on Switch! My friend code is on my profile page, or use the QR code in my pic. I am lonely and need more of you in my life! I'll be online either playing Shredder's Revenge or Cowabunga Collection and looking to go online! I've been on a real TMNT kick lately, and by "lately," I mean the last 30 years. The feeling of taking out my anger and frustration on a bunch of Foot soldiers just doesn't get old! Of course, that will get put away for a while come midnight Friday! I want to thank my sugar daddy/mama, who wants to remain anonymous, for their generous donation so I could afford to purchase Super Mario Bros. Wonder! I will see you online!

#actually mentally ill #mental health #mental illness #mentally disordered #super mario #video games #actually borderline #mental heath support #tw depressing thoughts #bing3 eating #tmnt #nintendo switch #nintendo #psych ward #psychology #mental hospital #hospital #pizza crust

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vishnukumarsworld · 2 years

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slot Quick Update

Its Friday morning and I played a little online yesterday and a £300 omaha slot with 65 runners live in Tallinn yesterday. In other news I am totally out of sync with the guys sleeping patterns as my 2am bedtime is about 4 hours too early for them. They go for "1 more drink" at midnight and i head back to relax/play poker, the next day we have a sightseeing planned and every time it gets cancelled as 1 more drink turns to 7am!! - and everyone that knows me thinks that I am really lazy!

Thursday

Woke up - fannied about a bit then went for lunch in the old town (by myself as I know by now its not worth waking the beast that is the Irish Poker sleepers).

Have nice lunch at merchants and then have a coffee, take some Tallinn old town photos and come back.

Online breif session

Call the guys (its 4.30pm) they have just woken so we arrange for them to come down in 30mins to go to casino (6pm start). I play a little bit of omaha to get me in the mood, i lose my $500 buy in slot online 1058007 with top 2 v a wrap. KP and Rob arrives and I ask them to look at the hand. I get a thumbs up. Played it ok. I am still learning omaha and its nice to double check hands as you cant win them all.

Casino

The boys grab some food and I meet up with a gang of guys from Scotland Dave, David, Jim and two others. I know them from back home and we are all going to play the omaha tournament so I know 7 guys playing the 65 man tourney. We draw seats. seat 2 -4 my Scottish friends. me seat 5 and KP seat 6. excellent, just the draw i didn't want.

Tourney

We play a few hands and I am up to 6500 from a starting stack of 5k. mid level 2 blinds 50/100. i limp in 1st position with AA23 double suited. 2 callers then the cut off bets 300 ! Scottish guy calls and I reraise 1100 to 1400. Initial raiser thinks and calls. Flop looks good at K84 rainbow. I bet the 3.5k pot. he goes all in .. doh. I call the 1500 more and he shows KK23. a 5 on the turn helps but an 8 seals it for him and my tournament.

+EV games

I play super tiles fruit machine to calm me down, its cheaper than roulette! The 1 thing that i didn't plan to do was overvalue AA and I am usually good at that (i played the omaha really well in Ireland) but the combination of the table draw and the starting blinds/stack ratio got to me and made me think I had to make a move. Won a cool 500 on supertiles unfortunately it was EEK's and only equates to £25. The remaining tourney players get a break so I join them. Everyone seems to think my villain played it badly but i think we both did.

I play 5 stt's on the laptop in the hotel with my Friend and early bust out Dave Mcgeedie watching. I lose all 5! This is not looking like a good day. The cash game is a min 10,000 EEK sit down (£500) omaha. It looks nice but I only have 3000 so I play roulette to either spin it up to 10k or go to the bank and change some euros/pounds. A sweet run of tier numbers and I am freeroling the cash game.

Cash game

I play 3 hands in 2 hours. My starting hand requirements are pretty loose in this game but i keep seeing junk like K822 A1074 2249etc etc. I then play a crap hand from the sb 346J flop 245 i check and all 5 check behind. not good but not bad as I have no redraw anyway. turn a nice 10 but it makes a flush draw. I bet 600 2 callers 1 good player and 1 loose fish. River a K and I bet 2300 and pick up 2 callers!! lol I show the nuts and get tales of trips and low straight.

Tilt!

I lose my profit the next hand so am still at 12,000 when this hand occurs. I use my tight image to bet a 3 hearts board on the turn that was checked round the 1st time. I am SB. I bet 1500 at it and get 2 callers (hopefully both trips or 2 pair) a dead card comes on the turn and I bet 5000 at the pot (£250) I have nothing. 1st player muck immediately and the 2nd guy thinks for about 10 secs and calls. I muck and don't even see what shit he calls with. I immediately go on tilt, how can I bluff into the guy i just did (he was the one who called my nuts earlier with the baby straight. I post a straddle with 5000 left. I hit the nuts with my junk and get no action. The next hand I raise the pot and then through my last 3k at a flop of Q64 2 diamonds me 35 no diamonds. 2 blanks and the guy wins with a pair of 3's! WP me.

In hindsight I should not have played the cash as was probably still simmering from my online losses (not alot but still annoying) and my tourney exit. lesson for the future

Get back home after winning on some roulette and fruit machines (i am a luckbox who just loses my profits at poker) and get a text from KP. The guy who knocked me out in level2 won the whole thing. Kp was playing the cash game when I left. Hopefully he got my money from my aquatic friends.

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dotorete · 2 years

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can't sleep love // b. katsuki

whereas early sleeper katsuki bakugo haven't been getting sleep for a month straight after realizing his feelings.

ao3 version here

A month.

Katsuki Bakugo has been losing sleep for a month and he’s sick of it.

He stared at the all-too-familiar ceiling once again, vermillion eyes wide open. Glancing in his table clock, he groaned quietly when the neon red numbers indicating a bright “3:14 AM”. It’s way past his normal bedtime and he can feel the exhaustion in his veins.

But he still can’t go to sleep.

All he wants to do is rest after a long day of training, why couldn’t he at least have that? It’s been a long day, anyway. He should be sleeping like a rock from the lack of energy. Is the extra training he’s been doing not good enough? Should he add more? The blond closed his eyelids for the thousandth time this night, desperate to at least have enough rest for tomorrow, only to be woken up again by a certain image of (e/c)-colored eyes.

Goddammit. It’s you again.

His hands made its way onto his locks as he tugs it out of frustration. His head was now clouded with the thoughts of you, making Bakugo feel annoyed and happy all at the same time. Your smile, your laugh, the way your eyebrows narrows every time you get confused on what Ectoplasm was teaching and even your favorite snacks, all of it getting engraved into his brain even if he didn’t want it to be.

Katsuki is really starting to reconsider his life choices. Who knew acknowledging his feelings would come to bite him back in the ass?? Not him, apparently. If he knew that being in denial was the easiest part of liking someone, he should’ve just stayed in that stage because he genuinely thinks he’s going crazy.

Katsuki was sitting down in his designated seat, minding his own business observing from the guidelines. He was never for small talk, unlike these extras surrounding him who were chatting loudly with each other, probably talking about something stupid as usual. He scoffed and rolled

his eyes at the sight as he glanced at the window beside him.

“I should probably do an extra hour of weight training today.” His eyes stared blankly at a tree, getting absorbed in his own thoughts. “Or should I do stamina?? Maybe I’ll just do both an---” Katsuki’s thoughts suddenly came to a sudden stop when a series of giggles caught his attention. Diverting his attention to the owner of the voice almost immediately, his sight landed on you.

You were laughing your head off while listening to some crazy story Mina was telling you, your usual almond-shaped eyes now brimming with tears from laughing too much. It was somehow calming for him to see you smiling, affecting his mood like serotonin.

His eyes wandered around your face, taking in every single detail that he stumbles upon. Yes, he knows he probably looks really creepy but he just can’t help it. Bakugo found you endearing. His heart threatening to burst out of his chest every time you’re within his sight, with his ears going beet red almost immediately. Your mere existence makes him malfunction and he can’t understand why---

The realization hit him like a truck. He likes you.

He likes you romantically.

Bakugo felt a nerve snap at his head at the sudden discovery.

“No, no, no, that can’t happen.” He screamed internally, panicking. Him, out of all people, liking someone? Love was never in his dictionary. Heck, he was still struggling in the “friendships” section! His fingers found their way into his nape, making him look down into his table. He stayed in that position for about a minute before he heard you laugh again, the sound sending butterflies to dance in his stomach.

That moment might be insignificant to everyone else in the room but that was the nail in the coffin for him.

“Fuck.” Katsuki exhaled in acceptance, finally providing his lungs its much-needed oxygen. He didn’t even notice that he was holding his breath in but that was an irrelevant thing at the moment. He just admitted to himself that he wants to be romantically involved with someone, yes, because the man wasn’t completely emotionally constipated. He knows and feels the emotions. He just doesn’t convey them.

His mind went black for a second.

Now what?

He admitted his feelings to himself, so now what’s next?

Katsuki was about to rack his brain for some answers when a hand was placed on his shoulders, startling the spiked-haired boy. The unforeseen touch was enough for Bakugo to accidentally throw his rationality down the drain as he swung his arm towards Kirishima. Loud shouts and profanities left the man’s lips as he tries to scold the other with a reddening face.

The reminiscing of the memory was the last thing that Bakugo remembers before finally drifting to sleep, snores going out of the blond’s lips almost immediately.

“Kirishima-kun.” Kirishima turned his head to the owner of the voice, only to see Midoriya looking at him with an unsure expression. He tilted his head in question.

The man continued talking, taking the head tilt as a sign to ask ahead. “Is Kacchan okay?? He’s been a bit more…aggressive these days.”

All of the idle chatter in the changing room died down instantly, the silence almost deafening. Every single person suddenly has their attention

directed to Kirishima. Hell, even Todoroki was curious. With all the eyes on him, the red-haired man quickly pulled his white shirt over his head

and closed his locker, all while trying to think of an answer.

Come to think of it, Bakugo has been acting weird these days. His temper was shorter than ever, making him blow up in anger. He gets startled more, in which has often resulted in Kirishima taking a blast in his face. His concentration has been slipping too, even though his friend wouldn’t really admit to it when confronted. Kaminari, being Kaminari as usual, once teased Bakugo about his performance. Instead of exploding in profanities as he usually does, the battery got a blushing Bakugo and a response of quote-on-quote, “take you head out of your ass and spar with me.”

“In all honesty, I don’t know.” He paused for a bit, before continuing. “We tried talking to him about it, but he just flips us off.”

“Well, fix it! He looks like he’s going to go in a rampage every morning!” Mineta shrieks in fear. Everyone agreed in his statement, but nobody really wanted to give him the recognition so they decided against it.

“I do think that he’s lacking sleep. His eyebags have gotten worse, in my opinion.” Tokoyami voiced out his opinion on the subject, earning him some questioning looks. Bakugo was already in his room by 8:00. Everyone in the dorms know that.

The opinion made Kirishima stop on his tracks. What didn’t he think about that? Bakugo has been yawning more every time they all hung out together. He even saw him almost sleeping in Aizawa’s class more than once. Even Aizawa himself has told the hot-headed boy off, only earning a grunt in response.

His thoughts were cut off with Sero snapping his fingers in from of his face, asking if he’s okay. After mumbling a quick “I’m fine.”, he gathered his belongings and went out of the changing room together with Kaminari and Sero. The worry for his best friend didn’t leave his head, though.

He should really talk to Bakugo about this.

Mina, on the other hand, has sensed the tension in Bakugo’s actions weeks before Midoriya asked Kirishima about it.

She was intuitive, sensing the quick glances that her friend will send over to your direction when you’re not looking and the lingering stares that he would get lost into when you started speaking.

He’s so hopeless it hurts her.

Especially when she forced him to confirm her suspicions. God, that was just painful to reminisce at.

“Racoon eyes, what the fuck?!” Mina ignored the blond’s loud complains and continued dragging him away from their classmates. She might be a bit nosy at times but she still knows the term “privacy”. “I don’t have time for your bullshit today! I still have t---”

“You like (y/n), don’t you?”

The sudden question caught Bakugo off guard, confusion and shock clearly showing in his facial expressions. The man hurried to blurt out an answer, trying to cover up for himself but it was way too late. Mina was convinced already.

His pink-skinned friend shrieked in delight. “So, you do like he---” A calloused hand quickly covered Mina’s lips, not letting her finished her sentence. Her eyes widened in both surprise and amusement when she saw Bakugo’s face, teasing grin appearing into her lips even though the boy can’t see it.

The boy in front of her was red as a tomato, his ears not escaping the blushing occurring on his face. His eyes were glaring daggers at her, which would usually be her cue to shut up but being beet red and glaring just looks like a futile attempt of covering his feelings than scary.

“So, he’s whipped as fuck.” She thought.

A growl left Bakugo’s lips before harshly taking his hand off her face. “Shut the hell up. I don’t.” He tried to sound rough, he really did. But at this point, he just sounds like he’s in denial. That thought didn’t stop him, though. “Stop spreading rumors or I’ll blow you up into pieces.”

Mina ignored the empty threats directed to her and continued talking. “You should confess, Bakugo! You’ll look cute together! Oh, I can help you set up your date! Just tell me whe---"

“I’m not confessing to anyone! I don’t like anyone!”

“Why were you looking at her every time she’s not looking, then?”

“S-she looks like a target dummy!”

“Then explain why you were blushing every time she’s near you.”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“Yes, you are!”

“What would I be blushing for, you extra?! I told you, I don’t like her!”

“Coward!”

“Fuck you, I’m not confessing shit! I’m carrying these fucking feelings with me to my deathbed!”

Annoyance laced his voice as he held onto the last bits of his resolve. Confessing would just be making things complicated and if anything gets more complicated than it is, Bakugo’s 100% sure that his brain would just pop like a balloon. He doesn’t even care that he just admitted his feeling for you to someone else anymore.

“If this conversation gets out, you better sleep with one eye open because I’ll be turning you into ashes.” He threatened Mina for the last time before stomping away, heading back to their classroom.

Mina shook her head and muttered “Pussy.” Before walking back too, head pounding due to the blond being hardheaded.

Since their conversation, the girl has been racking up ideas on how she could convince her stubborn friend to confess to you. Should she lock you both in the closet? Bakugo would probably blow the whole closet up. Should she set you and the boy on a blind date? The both of you would probably be silent, all while cussing her out in your own inner thoughts. Should she make one of your classmates flirt with you to make him jealous. He’ll probably just take that as a sign to tap out.

Bakugo wasn’t doing that well on hiding it either. Mina would still catch him doing heart eyes while looking at her, much to her shock. She didn’t really take her foul-mouthed friend to be a “loving from afar” type. In fact, she thought he would just straight up say it to get it over with. Oh, well. She learns a bit more about everyone every day.

“He’s hopeless.” Mina rolled her eyes at the thought. “Completely hopeless.”

At this point, she just expected him to stay quiet about it. No courting, no confession. Nothing.

So, imagine the shock she was in when she saw the both of you walking together to school.

You were livid. Confused. Sad. Hopeful.

Nobody told you that liking someone needed a lot of emotional energy, if that term even existed.

You were running out of patience and energy. The patience to wait for a certain foul-mouthed asshole to make a move and the energy to hide your feelings for him.

His personality is complex as fuck. He screams almost every time he speaks. He can even be a bit too rough with his words yet you found all of those endearing.

The smallest moments were the ones that stuck by you the most. Noticed the times where he would just wordlessly pass a water bottle to you, the times that he cooks for the whole class without asking because he heard someone complaining about being hungry, the times where he would harshly show his love to everyone with his actions.

It doesn’t make sense at all, but then again nothing made sense the moment that you realized you liked Bakugo. You can’t even pinpoint the exact moment that knew you liked him. As cliché as it sounded, you just…knew.

Every time you see him, you imagine giving yourself a nice pat in the back, proud of your standards. Bakugo was not ugly. Oh, not at all. Anyone who says otherwise either has a personal grudge against the guy or just have crappy eyesight. He has soft cheeks yet an insanely sharp jawline, too. His facial features complement each other well. God was definitely generous and careful while making him.

His body just speaks for itself, really. Sometimes, you even wonder if his pecs were bigger than yours.

So, when you noticed him looking towards your direction, you discreetly looked around to see who he was looking at.

“Maybe it was Momo? She’s pretty. Very kind, too.” You surveyed the people behind you, internally surveying them. “Or maybe it was Ashido. They’re friends, anyway. It would make so much sense.”

Then it happened again. And again. And again. At this point you just declared to yourself that you’re delusional because thoughts of him looking at you are surfacing into your head.

“Does he like you back?” Your heart fluttered at the thought, imagining what it but would deflate for a little bit when reminded that you’re probably just overanalyzing things. So, you just acted normal.

Or at least tried to until you can’t take it anymore.

It was midnight when you decided that you should probably confess to Bakugo because if you continue secretly pining after him without knowing you would combust.

Getting out of bed, every step towards the boy’s dorm room felt heavier than the previous one. “This is a bad idea.” You whispered yet you didn’t do anything to go the opposite way. The adrenaline of confessing out of impulse taking over your rationality, not letting you overthink about the consequences that come with your rash decision.

Your finally stop in front of Bakugo’s room, you’re your skin feeling cold and your hands getting sweaty. You know you’re going to regret this tomorrow, the ignoring and awkwardness increasing tenfold not only for you but your mutual friends, too. You should really go back---

Your thought was cut off by your own loud knocking, making your hands sweat more. The painful silence engulfed your body as you feel the temperature fall, for some reason. Probably because of your nerves going haywire, screaming at you to back to your room and forget that all of this ever happened.

You were about to go back, both relieved and disappointed that you couldn’t confess today when the door suddenly opened wide, making you face a wide-eyed Katsuki Bakugo.

“…(y/n)?”

It was another sleepless night for Bakugo when a loud knock startled him from his own thoughts.

Eyebrows furrowed, he glanced at the clock in his bedside, only to have his eyebrows furrow deeper.

1:06 AM.

Who the fuck is banging at his door at 1 in the morning?

He mumbled incoherent curses under his breath as he made his way to the door, ready to flip out on whoever is behind it, only to be face-to-face with the reason why he couldn’t sleep for a month. His eyes widened out of shock, well he didn’t expect you to be the one knocking.

Is he dreaming?

“…(y/n?)” Katsuki called out to the girl in front of her, still unsure if this is a dream or reality. She looked conflicted, with a hint of nervousness spreading throughout her delicate features.

You replied to him with a grimace. “Hi, Bakugo.” She awkwardly greeted the blond and gave a small wave. “I didn’t think you would be awake at this time of the night.”

“I wonder whose fault that is.” He sarcastically thought with imagining giving you an eyeroll.

He quickly surveyed you, looking for any signs that you have brought something for him, only to find you empty-handed. A sigh escaped his lips before speaking once again. “Do you need anythi---”

“I like you.” He froze in place.

“Excuse me, what?”

Panic immediately seeped through your body when you heard his answer, regret coming in to replace the adrenaline rush. You tried to explain yourself to him, only to end up mushing the words up. “W-well, you don’t really need to reply to it!” You shook your hands in front of you. “I just really wanted to tell it to you because I was feeling brave tonight and if don’t tell it now the I would probably back out every time I try to talk to you. It’s not that---”

“You like me?” Katsuki asked in disbelief, even more so when you nodded. He was currently in a state of shock, his ears were ringing and instead of butterflies, he felt like there were airplanes in his stomach. “Racoon eyes didn’t tell you anything, did she?”

Your shoulders deflated in disappointment as tears threatened to fall down your cheeks. “No, no, don’t worry! I didn’t tell anyone. Sorry, I

didn’t know you liked her. I should’v---"

Bakugo didn’t even let you finish your sentence as he pulled you closer to him, his lips roughly taking its place on top of yours. He felt agitated at your assumption for some reason. How dare you think that he liked someone else? He did not just lose a month’s worth of sleep just for you

to misunderstand everything, damnit.

The kiss lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away, his eyes looking right through yours before asking a question. “Did that correct your assumption?” You looked away, flustered at the brash approach the that he used.

When you didn’t answer his question, he pulled you into going inside his room, making your eyes widen a little. Probably sensing your uncertainty, he spoke up as his grip on your waist loosened. “We’re not going do anything, dumbass. I just…” He cleared his throat, suddenly

sounding unsure. “Let’s hug until we sleep.”

“Bakugo, that’s called cuddling.”

“I don’t care what it’s called, let’s just fucking do it!”

Katsuki was going to complain a bit more but one of his hands was pulled away from your waist as you used it to tug him to his bed. He savored the moment in front of him right now, not really knowing what will happen after this night but he pushed the thought on the back of his head. He doesn’t even know if this is all real or if it’s just a fever dream. He’ll let future Bakugo worry about those problems.

His body was pushed back into his bed, the soft fabric of his futon welcoming him back in. You laid right beside him, immediately going big spoon. Not that he was complaining. The position was comfortable, after all.

Silence surrounded the both of them, the same silence that the was with all while thinking of you. It comforted him this time as it lulls him to sleep, just like the makeshift shapes you were drawing on his arms.

“Bakugo?” The sound of your voice temporarily woke him up, making him open one of his eyes.

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to go on a date tomorrow, after school?”

“Sure.” Sleepiness was starting to take over Katsuki’s body. “Want to be my girlfriend?”

“Absolutely.”

That was the last thing Katsuki heard before he drifted into a deep slumber, getting the best sleep he’s had in weeks.

Katsuki woke up to someone’s nuzzling into his chest. Ignoring it, he tried to get closer to the pillow, it’s warmness enticing him.

Warmness? Pillows aren’t supposed to be warm.

His eyes suddenly fluttered open as he frantically surveys his surroundings. The red lines of his alarm clock were blaring a bright ”4:23 AM”. A big exhale caught the blond’s attention and land his sight on you. HIs ruby eyes observed your features in silence in awe, mesmerized by the sight in front of him. Your eyelids were fluttered shut while your check squished by the pillow your head was laying on, making your lips pout. You looked peaceful. A warm feeling spreads throughout his chest while the memories of yesterday, shaking him awake.

You’re his girlfriend now.

And you have a date later.

His hand left your waist for a second to snooze the alarm clock. “Racoon eyes better keep her word,” His internally snickered while kissing the crown of your head, reveling at the feeling of fuzziness spreading throughout his body. “because I’m planning a fucking date and she’s helping.”

Note: This is a repost from my Ao3 account.

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rightsforbrunomadrigalonly · 2 years

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Part 3 to Bruno x Pregnant Reader Head canons???? ( Retitling to Dad Bruno x Reader)

{A/N: It's been requested once or twice that I do a part three to the Bruno x Pregnant reader Head Canon arch. I love the idea of Bruno multiplying like rabbits but I think him and his wife would agree two babies is perfect for their family, so I don't persay think I can call this Bruno x Pregnant Reader anymore. However, because I do ADORE dad Bruno and because I myself am so far down the rabbit whole of Dad Bruno I will oblige. I have thought long and hard about Bruno's children, even going as far as drawing designs for them and doors haha I love them both so much! I’ve even named them, that’s how you know I am attached lmaoooo. But for the sake of immersion I’ll keep the babies nameless for the reader! :) So I guess here's part 3 of what I'll be calling from this point on Dad Bruno x Reader}

Having experienced fatherhood once already, Bruno felt confident about handling anything a second baby could throw his way. While navigating the ins and outs of raising a child weren’t exactly what Bruno would consider a cake walk, he was more than ready to take on the challenge of raising a second bundle of joy. You’d chuckle at the eagerness in his eyes, as he’d wait every day for the babies arrival.

The man would be just a bit more on edge about your comfort levels this time around. He remembered from your last pregnancy how Pepa told him not to dote over you, but he couldn’t help it. Even now, 37 weeks pregnant, you still chased after your princesita as if you weren’t about to fall into labor at any given moment. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t uneasy watching you. We all know Bruno is a terrible liar anyway.

He’d definitely try to take over most of the responsibilities when it came down to tending for your daughter. Bath time? He was on it. No need for you to get on your knees and struggle to get back up. He could give her a bath, and he was pretty damn good at it too! She loved when Papa gave her a bath instead. Dinner? On it! He wasn’t the best cook honestly, but if Julieta wasn’t cooking for the night he’d make sure she went to bed full and satisfied. Bedtime? He’d rock the girl in his arms until she eventually fell deep enough under the sands of slumber to be tucked in for the night. Truly he went above and beyond just to make sure you didn’t over exert yourself in these last three weeks.

While you found it endearing that the man worried this much, you wanted him to relax. If he kept this pace up, when the newest addition to your family arrived, he’d have no energy to help care for the newborn.

Y/N: “Mi amor, come lay down. You should get more rest. Once this baby is born we BOTH aren’t going to be seeing the backs of our eyelids for a VERY long time. I know you want to help, but just take it easy.”

Bruno: “Right, no I know that... I just, I have to finish what I was doing for princesita. I uh, I don’t want to let her down ya know?”

Y/N: “So let me do it, I can still help take care of our daughter. I’m pregnant Bruno, not incapable”

Ouch that tone! Where did that come from? WHOO WHOO Mood swing alert!

Bruno wasn’t a novice when it came to understanding the hormonal imbalances a pregnant woman barreled through. Being the only brother amongst two sisters, he learned a thing or two about not taking the emotional pendulum swings as personal blows. While they still did hurt, he tried his best to understand you may not have meant the tone you delivered your frustrations with.

Bruno: “I know you aren’t mi Vida. I wasn’t trying to imply that you were- I mean, I didn’t mean to make you feel- I just. I want you to relax too. I know once this little guy comes out, neither one of us are going to be doing a whole lot of relaxing” he’d pause and nervously laugh “I think I’ll probably end up with a few more grey hairs by the end of this but I still want to do everything I can now to help make this easier for you. I remember how tired you were when our Princesita was born, I felt...so bad that I couldn’t help you. I guess that’s kind of why I’m over doing it now...”

The man could admit it. He was going a bit too far trying to take everything on by himself. Parenthood was a journey the two of you embarked on together. There was a lot of give and take, and lately he’d been doing all the taking. He was tired, and his body felt that. He’d throw his body next to yours on the bed, eyes closing as he took a deep relaxing breath in through his nose a yawn passing his lips. He guessed it wouldn’t cause too much harm if you were to trade places with him.

Bruno: “Think you’re up to the challenge of playing dress up? We had a whole Gala planned out for the cast of El joven y el inquieto. Mirabel even spent all day stitching little costumes for the rats...They look cute. I’d love to go but I think I’m beat. Papa needs a nap.”

Your heart would soar. This man really did go the extra mile when it came to making his little girl smile. You’d give his nose a gentle smooch, before covering him up with the blankets. He doesn’t even wait for your response, the instant you tuck him in he’s out, light little snores passing his lips.

To no surprise, just as expected, once the new baby is born sleep becomes a myth to both you and Bruno.

Your husband looks like night of the walking dead and you definitely FEEL like the walking dead.

So much for the confidence he had about taking on two babies at once.

Y/N: “Aren’t you glad we only have two?” you’d tease earning a very stern tired look from your husband.

Bruno: “If it’s okay with you mi vida, I think two kids is enough for me. Thank you very much.”

You couldn’t help the laugh you fumbled from your mouth as your fingers ruffled through his curls, a baby attached to your chest as you laid together in the bed.

You could agree. Two babies were the perfect amount for you and your husband. Besides, it was apparent your little girl didn’t enjoy having to share her Papa’s attention with another sibling.

It would lead to a struggle for Bruno. He’d have quiet the challenge ahead of him when it came to balancing attention equally between both babies. He’d watch how effortless you’d make things look, but the instant he tried things out for himself, suddenly it didn’t feel as easy as you made everything appear.

He’d ask for your help on the situation, though you wouldn’t quite know how else to describe it other than “it’s just a natural thing.”

He considered asking another mother for some extra tips, but he felt it would be redundant. While he could ask his mother or sisters how they managed to split their attention between multiple kids, he felt the answer would be virtually the same as yours. He needed a dad’s perspective on the situation.

Bruno: “Agustin, hey! Uh, I don’t mean to bother you but- I was wondering if I could ask you a question or two?.....or a dozen maybe.”

The dad of three would be more than eager to lend some fatherly advice Bruno’s way. Being completely honest, Bruno always admired his sister’s husband. Even when faced with the scariest woman in the world, his mother, Agustin always stuck his ground when it came to doing what was best for his family. Bruno hoped that if the time ever came he’d be able to do the same. He admired both of his brother-in-laws if he was being frank. Both men set fine examples of what a good father was for your clueless husband.

A mile a minute. That’s how fast Bruno rambles on through his questions. A mile a god damn minute.

Bruno: “How did you get used to the whole juggling babies thing. Not like holding them and moving them around and stuff, that’s pretty easy, I can hold them both at once and everything, I mean attention wise. How did you learn to split your attention between the girls? I asked Y/N but uh, she told me it was just something that came naturally for her. I guess I kinda wanted to know if it was a natural thing for you too? Is there something I’m missing here? What if I don’t have this natural nurturing- thing I’m suppose to have.”

Agustin definitely gets a good laugh out of it. Admittedly, he always enjoys one on one talks with Bruno. The mans unintentionally a riot. Agustin would clamp a palm to the back of Bruno’s shoulder, a hand extending in front of them as the more experienced father poured his knowledge out for the other.

Agustin: “If I’m being honest with you, it’s not something I can tell you. It’s something you have to learn to gage for yourself. Just let the love you have for both of your children guide you.”

WHAT WAS HE SUPPOSE TO DO WITH THAT INFORMATION. IF HE COULD DO THAT, HE WOULD! BUT HE COULDN’T SO HERE HE WAS, ASKING FOR HELP.

Bruno would groan earning a hardy laugh from Agustin.

Agustin: “This is all new to you Bruno, nobody said you have to be perfect on your first try. You’ve got this Cuñado. It took me a while to figure out how to spread myself without spreading too thin. It’s not an exact science I can give you, I’m sorry for that, but what I CAN give you is the encouragement you need to keep at it, and if you ever need, an ear to chatter into.”

Bruno would feel a bit more relaxed, giving his brother-in-law a thankful glance before scampering off.

Eventually, he’d find his rhythm for taking care of both of his babies with an equal amount of love. He’d set times in his day where he’d spend time solely with his daughter, making sure she knew that he still loved and cared for her just as much as he did when she was an only sibling. He’d also take time to dedicate to your son, making sure to give the growing boy equal time even if he didn’t fully understand what was going on.

It amazed you to see just how much effort your husband placed in caring for your children. He was an amazing father and an amazing husband. You couldn’t wait to see him grow as both of your babies grew. You both went into this blindly, but together the love you had for each other and this family would guide you along. It was a journey you were proud to be on.

#encanto bruno #bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal x oc #bruno #bruno encanto #possibly a new blog series?

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uwuwriting · 4 years

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How the boys SIMP! w/ Bakugou, Kaminari and Todoroki

Request: I got like five requests about several of our favorite boys simping over their girlfriend so yeah, here we are.

Hi I’m not dead, yet at least. I;m starting to believe that my brain will turn to goo after all the chemistry and biology I’ve been studying. Sorry for not posting, my tumblr decided to be a dick and deleted my queued posts so haha yeah. Anyways my posts won’t be as regural as they used to because school....kill me. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: SIMPING

Bakugou Katsuki

-Okay he is rather subtle with his simping.

-He won’t straight up kiss the ground you walk on.

-BUT he will be kinder and a little softer.

-Maybe sometimes to the point others notice and it’s not a good look on him.

-Or at least that’s what he believes.

- “I have a reputation to keep, baby.”

-That was said behind closed doors at 3 am on the rare occassion he stayed past his bed time.

-And yes he will ignore his bedtime for you.

-One of his simping tactics.

-He will cook for you, he will pretend that he’s annoyed that you aren’t eating well enough or healthy.

-So he becomes mama Bakugou and starts cooking for you.

-Bento boxes for school, snacks while you are studying, dinner and breakfast.

-He will teach you how to cook some dishes for when he is not here and you get hungry.

- “We’re doing your favorite.”

- “Aww Katsuki, you know my favorite.”

- “Shut up dumbass and pay attention.”

-Speaks rather softly after a while, showing you how to correctly cut the ingredients and how to stir the mix without making a mess.

-He will just leen on the counter and watch you add all the ingredients with that little concentrated pout on your lips.

-His heart goes oops.

-He will be so engrossed with your beauty that you’ll have to give him a small shake when you need him.

-Pretends to enjoy what you’ve made if you messed it up somehow but will give you honest feed back and advice so you make something edible next time.

-You tend to spend the night at his dorm and he loves it.

-It’s usually on accident.

-You cuddle him while he goes to sleep and your plan is to get up and leave once you have taken your fill.

-But he is warm and oh so cuddly that you fall asleep as well.

-He wakes up around ten o’clock everytime to make sure you left and when he still feels you next to him he just lets out the most genuine smile.

-He will pull you flush to his chest *if you are not already* and take in your scent saying a little I love you before going back to sleep.

-The next morning he will wake you up before anyone else gets up and walks you to your room.

-Thankfully you are on the same floor so you don’t have to go far.

-He always walks with you to and from class no matter his mood.

-He monitors his tone when he can help it and will warn you when his mood is really awful.

-In general it’s the little things with him not grand gestures and all out simping.

Kaminari Denki

-Worships the ground you walk on.

-All out simping no shame.

-He will straight up give his soul for you.

-And he is rather proud of that fact.

-The polar opposite of Bakugou.

-And he can get on everyone’s nerves with his simping.

-Picks you up form your dorm room every morning, carries your bag to class and opens every single door you come across.

-Gives you his food if you show the slightest of interest in his meal.

- “Denki I just want a bite.”

- “I CAN GET ANOTHER ONE BABY!”

-Calm down sir....calm down.

-Has canceled game night because you had period cramps.

-The thing with that is you never actually asked him to come cuddle or something you just mentioned that you were heading to Recovery Girl for some pain killers.

-Man was waiting you at her office in -0.5 seconds.

- “I thought you were playing COD.”

- “I canceled.”

- “YOu wHAt?”

-Bakugou legit thinks you are the reason Kaminari keeps blowing them off.

-That you are some type of overly clingy girlfriend.

-DENKI IS AN OVERLY CLINGY GIRLFRIEND.

-Has gone off on a russian dude because while you were playing COD together he said something about girls being really bad at video games.

-Your man almost got banned.

-He skips class if you’re sick which is rather sweet but simultaneously really really dumb.

-Aizawa is coming fro his ass in 3....2....1.

-Boy didn’t even reach your door.

-You just heard your boyfriend’s girlish screams coming from down the hall followed by pleads of mercy.

-You were -><- this close to going out there to see what was going on but then you heard Aizawa’s monotonous voice and just went back to sleep.

-He later came over and narrated his traumatic experience.

-Poor baby just wanted to take care of you.

Todoroki Shouto

-He’s a mix of Bakugou and Denki.

-He likes being subtle and showering with affection behind closed doors but also will be at your beck and call.

-In your or his room he likes to hold you close like really really close.

-Oh you are studying?

-Will just hug you from behind.

-You are watching something on Netflix?

-Will rest his head on your shoulder.

-You do the same really because he is a very very touch starved baby and he needs more love.

-He Likes to bring you food that Fuyumi makes.

-He visits his sister on the regural so he always or almost always comes back with a small bento box with your name on it in Fuyumis delicate writing.

-Fuyumi loves you and she knows what a simp her baby brother is for you.

-In public he isn’t on Denki’s level.

-Yeah sure he will open the door for you.

-Sure he might ignore everyone else and only answer to you.

-But that doesn’t make him an immediate simp.

-No no.

-What makes him a simp is the way he treats you during free period.

-Clingy boy to the fullest.

-And a bonus, will do anything you ask.

-You are doing a project and you need to test something in extreme heats? He has laready rolled up his sleeve.

-You are thirsty from studying? He is already on his way to buy you a water bottle.

-He’s more of a protective simp.

-Considering who his father is he really gets protective over you whenever he is around.

-Also doesn’t like training with you because he doesn’t want to accidently hurt you.

-The last simp characteristic of his is drum roll......

-Your sleeping schedule.

-It’s fucked up basically.

-You tend to study until you pass out in his room and he will always carry your to your dorm unless you tell him otherwise.

-Will risk detention for being out past curfew just to get you to your room.

-I LOVE HIM!

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @bemorefiction @dnarez-mangetsu

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1plus1kiyoomi · 4 years

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Chapter 9: Fried

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You groan as you look around your room, scattered paperwork and schoolwork all over the place. You have so much to do but you don’t know where to start. Out of frustration, you breakdown. Rice hears your sobs so he runs to you, and licks your arms. You take him into your arms, hugging him. He starts barking, worried about you.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong with Rice?” You hear Kita ask from outside of your room, causing you to cry harder.

The two of you haven’t been in touch lately since you’re trying so hard to distant yourself from him. You’ve always reasoned to him that you were busy, because you were, and you still are. But you’d be lying if you say that he isn’t one of the reasons of your breakdown.

You miss him so much. You want to cling to him like always. But you also seek reassurance from him. You need a label to your relationship. You’re afraid that he’s just leading you on because of his ex. What if he hasn’t moved on from her? Moving on from 7-year relationship is not easy, and from his friends’ words, he loved her a lot. Maybe he still loves her.

“I’m coming in,” Kita says and slides the door open. You grab a pillow and cover your face with it. You hear him sigh, and go around the room, probably picking up the pieces of paper. You feel him sit in front of you, so you jump in your mattress and hide under the blanket. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired,” you say in between your sobs. Rice jumps on top of your covered face, making you pull the blanket down so the dog can see you. He gives you a puppy look, whimpering. You cry again, burying your face on Rice’s fur.

Kita stands from where he was sitting, then leaves the room. A few minutes later, he comes back with a tray of food. “Eat first, then get some rest.”

“I’m really fine,” you assure him, wiping the tears off your cheeks. He sets the tray down on the floor and you hold Rice tightly, not wanting him to devour the food. He takes a spoonful of rice with a piece of beef on top, then feeds you. “Thank you. I can feed myself.”

“No. It’s fine. You seem really busy nowadays. This is the least I can do.” He feeds you soup this time, which you reluctantly accept. You feel like you’re being babied and you feel a little bit of ease. “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but you shouldn’t forget that you’re the most important dish on your plate.”

The metaphor he used makes you chuckle, completely stopping your eyes from tearing up. You nod enthusiastically, taking another spoonful of what he’s feeding you. The three of you stay silent as he feeds you and sometimes Rice. The silence is comforting. You can even say that it’s helping calm you down.

Finally finishing your dinner, Kita tucks you in bed. “Rice, let’s get out. Let your mom rest.” Kita orders the dog, but you and your furry son look up to him with pleading eyes, begging him to let Rice stay in your room. “Fine. Just for tonight.” Kita gives in, ruffling the tops of your heads.

Kita heads to the kitchen to the kitchen, leaving the dishes by the sink. He takes a seat on one of the cushions, then says his thanks before he starts eating. It has been exactly 10 days. 10 days since he last ate dinner with you. If it weren’t for Rice, he would have eaten alone.

Knowing that you’re busy, Kita doesn’t push you to eat dinner with him. He sometimes feels lonely, but you should prioritize your work. He admits that he misses you clinging to him and you annoying him every chance you get. He wants to tell you that he wants to share your burden with you, but it seems like you don’t give him the chance to talk.

Kita isn’t stupid. Aside from your busyness with the shelter and school, he’s aware that you’re avoiding him. You aren’t so subtle about it. Who stays at school until midnight? He also knows you’re purposely coming home after his bedtime. He waits for you every night just to make sure you come home safe.

Confusion is what he feels. He knows what you’re doing, but he doesn’t understand why you’re doing it.

After eating, Kita does the dishes then heads to your room. He checks you and Rice, and the two of you are sleeping soundly. He picks up your schoolwork, then decides to do them for you. It’s a little thing he can do to help you ease your stress.

“I’ll start with this,” Kita quietly says, taking your worksheet for Engineering Math. He takes his phone out and looks for a Youtube tutorial on how to do the topic you’re assigned to.

The next morning, you wake up without Rice around anymore. “He and Kita must have gone to the fields already.” You stretch your arms and see your schoolwork and paperwork arranged and in order. A note is on top of your binder so you read it.

(Y/N)

I finished doing your tasks for school. I also wrote some notes for your Systems Software class. I read that you have a test on it. I’ve also highlighted important notes in your other classes in case you have a surprise quiz.

Don’t forget to eat breakfast. I prepared a bento box for your lunch. Make you eat it. I will check later. Take a break, too. Stop overworking yourself. If you need help, I’m just there.

Rice and I are off to work. I hope to see you at dinner.

I miss you.

- Shinsuke

Tears come out of your eyes as you read his note. “What am I even doing? Why am I aimlessly avoiding him? He must have spent all night doing these.” You take your phone to check the time and you see that it’s almost lunch, which means all your morning classes are finished. “Kita is going to kill me.”

After a long day at school, you head home. You look for an easy recipe online, in hopes that you can make a decent dish for Kita. It’s your first cooking. You don’t even know why you thought of making him dinner as an apology gift. The kitchen is one of the places you’re forbidden to go to but here you are.

“Is 2 tablespoon really enough?” You ask yourself. You shrug, then pour more soy sauce. You forget about the recipe and make the dish using your instinct. If it’s meant to taste good, it’ll taste good.

“I’m home!” You hear Kita from the front door. Rice comes running to you at the kitchen, excitedly jumping on your legs.

“Hello, little boy. How was the fields today? Did you miss mom?” You coo at him, lifting him from the ground.

“You’re actually here,” you hear Kita say, making you look up towards him. Putting Rice down, you go to him. You wrap your arms around his waist, smiling at him with your signature grin. He missed that smile.

“Well, of course, baby. You said you miss me so I’m here,” you tell him, snuggling your face on his chest.

Kita hugs you back, placing his chin on your shoulder. The two of you stand like that for a minute. You realized that last night, it wasn’t the silence that was comforting you. It was Kita. His presence is enough to make you feel less stressed. He gives you a light squeeze before pulling away from you. You look up to him and see that his eyes are on the dining table.

“I made dinner. Look at my rice! It’s perfect!” You proudly say, pulling him to the dining area. He stares at the food you made, and you nervously wait for his comment. He takes a spoon and tastes the supposedly curry dish. “How does it taste?”

Kita doesn’t answer you but looks at you emotionlessly. “It doesn’t taste that bad. It’s edible.” You sulk but start eating anyway. “How was your quiz?”

“I got a perfect score thanks to your notes. You’re really smart! Were you in the top of your class in high school?” You compliment him.

“I had a scholarship,” Kita answers and your jaw drops. How can he be so perfect at everything? He’s athletic, he’s handsome, he’s talented, he’s smart, he’s well-mannered, his soft spoken. He has probably not sin. But he has to be bad at something. But what? Is he a virgin? Is he bad in bed? He seems like the type to wait after marriage. So you’ll have to marry him to find out. Your cheeks heat up just from the thought.

Due to your daydreaming, you don’t hear Kita talking. “Hmmm? What did you say baby?”

“I said I like my eggs fried in the morning,” he repeats in his usual nonchalant voice. His words cause you to short circuit, unsure of what you heard.

“Why are you suddenly saying that?” You hide your face in embarrassment, flustered by his words. Rice is at side, staring at you as if he’s judging you. He probably is.

“You asked 3 months ago,” Kita explains, eating as if didn’t say anything.

“I know I did! But why say it now?” You glare at him. He puts his chopsticks down and bore his eyes at yours.

“Because I like you back now.”

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Facts:

Resting is very very important. No matter how busy you are, please spare some time to rest. Staying hydrated is as important. Don’t forget to drink your liquids. <3

Sleep is important in processing and committing new information to memory through a process known as memory consolidation. So pulling an all-nighter for a quiz isn’t really the best thing to do.

Sleep is important to overall well-being and mood. Sleep deprivation can often cause irritability, impatience, inability to concentrate, and moodiness.

Rest does not only involve physical relaxation, but mental as well. Mental exertion can also affect your body’s ability to cope or keep up and can cause you to feel overwhelmed and physically exhausted.

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Taglist: @vicassa @ptv-hades @steggy4ever @booklover240 @toripersonalacc @mkazuyuh @smoltiddygf @adrasteiaxandromedaa @leinnah @a-applepi @kellesvt @xxlightsaberxx @youpieceofwasabi @bandolls @wheelzzzies @apollochjld @sakusa-simp @neomuxuxi @sempiternal-amour @tnu-ree @mindofess @alittlebitofrain @agaashesmilktea @aquzairus @ynjimenez @sempiternal-amour @diyosku @dinablossom @atomicpie1115 @lililiynx @onlyshinji @melodiamore @bunnybitesthedust @angrylittleriri @rogueofbullshit @8zmingi @aam1na @yuueisteria @4kaashl @ohhoneyvee @kouffee-ink @amberisnotcrazy @shinyaluv

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu series #kita shinsuke smau #kita shinsuke x reader #kita imagines #kita x reader #kita smau #haikyuu kita #kita shinsuke

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1kook · 4 years

Text

subdued

— good boy joon on his bday x fem reader

summary; He could so easily take you over in the bedroom, push you down and ram himself inside until you cried. But it’s the other way around, and he likes it that way. tags; birthday boy joon, solo rapper joon, college student reader (unspecified year/age lol), this entire fic is based off THIS joon everyone look and never forget him warnings; kissing, blowjobs, grinding, unprotected, birthday sex, sub!joon word count; 5k

notes; hoooo boy, if you think my other fics were self-indulgent, this one is straight from my 3 am thoughts... anyway. i actually have the same birthday as joon so this fantasy plays off very different in daydream universe no. 794 lol but i understand not everyone is as lucky as us sept 12 babies so i adjusted it 😌

The stoplight down the street from his building takes the longest. He had warned you of its faulty mechanics the very first time you visited. It lingered on red a beat too long, wasted precious seconds you could be spending with him. It’s been the sole challenger to your patience this past year. Every time you wanted to visit him, it was this same stoplight that held you up— made the sugar in his coffee cup settle, the food in its container go cold. It absolutely dampened your mood.

Today, it’s from the back of an Uber that you watch the red glow of the light, gaze fading in and out of focus. It’s raining, the rhythmic pattering of raindrops against the wind shield hypnotizing you. There’s a styrofoam box of takeout beside you falling into the same fate as all its predecessors, tucked inside a plastic bag. It’s his favorite today, the black bean noodles down the street from your university paired with a sickeningly sweet fizzy drink. (There’s a cheap bottle of wine too, but he was never one for getting shitfaced so it had a slim chance of consumption.)

The longer the light stalls, the more nervous you become. One glance at your phone tells you it’s nearing eleven forty-nine, your last message to him just a few minutes before. It was a slew of sad faces as you apologized for the fifth time that night. Another minute ticks by and you’re suddenly hit with the overwhelming fear that you won’t make it on time.

It was Namjoon’s birthday.

At least it would be for the next ten minutes.

You hadn’t seen him all day, your usual Saturday morning brunch postponed by your conflicting schedules. You had a huge group project coming up, and the other students in your group all had lives of their own, jobs, sports, dates, that made their schedules hard to work around. Namjoon, too, was busy gearing up for the release of his mixtape, a collection of songs he had worked hard on for the better half of the year.

He had been planning for this since you first met, around this time the previous year. It was all he ever spoke about these days, which was both endearing and worrisome. Regardless of how you felt about his avid dedication towards his mixtape, you would continue to support him through it all.

You were supposed to drop by after your last class, but one thing led to another and suddenly you were babysitting your neighbor’s kids as she ran off to the hospital. You had felt bad for her, something about a relative in an accident, and had said yes without thinking through what exactly that meant. Two overexcited children and a kitchen lined in cake batter, is what it meant. Your neighbor had returned a little before eleven, and by then you were really cutting it close.

The order you placed had been ready when you got to the little restaurant, and, deciding to forgo bus stop waiting times, the Uber came quickly enough. Because things can never go your way, there was a small accident on one of the major streets that set you back, leading to your driver taking an abrupt detour that you doubt was helpful, and now you were here.

You bite down on your lower lip for probably the umpteenth time, flipping your phone around to check the time. 11:52.

The light changes a second later, your chauffeur for the evening slowly easing his foot off the break and sending the two of you one step closer to your boyfriend. The movement doesn’t ease your nerves in the slightest, foot tapping wildly against the carpeted flooring of the backseat as you think of that creaky elevator. Will it be on your side today? Or will it force you to run four flights of stairs up to his floor?

You won’t know until you get there, absentmindedly tipping the poor soul who bore witness to the rolling waves of tension that had swamped your body tonight. You can only hope it’s an appropriate bill, taking off toward the front doors of his building. The water on the sidewalk splashes beneath your frantic footsteps, tickling your bare ankles. The black boots you wore that day did nothing to save you, a small gust of cold air trying to sweep up beneath the thin material of your dress, luckily to no avail.

The front area is as empty as it usually is, though you doubt the late hour would change that. Knuckle jammed harshly against the flickering elevator button, you wait impatiently for it to descend. His small label takes up the entirety of the fourth floor, studios squeezed beside meeting rooms and offices. It was by no means a monster record label, but it had gained enough fame from the quality soloists it produced over the years; Namjoon was quickly becoming one of those. The carriage is on the fifth floor, right above his, the digital panel beside you says. It passes his floor, passes the fourth, and then… nothing.

You curse every deity in the universe as you watch it freeze on the second floor. You had been so close, you groan, kicking the tip of your shoe against the metal doors. It does nothing to fix the broken elevator, and with one heavy sigh, you turn to the flight of stairs. It was 11:54 now.

The stairway is silent, off-grey concrete walls mocking you as the time continues to tick down. Holding the plastic bag to your chest, you start up the stairs in a hurry. The rustling of the bag grows annoying quickly, your thighs aching half way up. The platforms between floors provide nearly no reprieve before you ascend the next level of stairs, heaving for air as you turn onto the final platform before his floor. Your hair sticks uncomfortably to the back of your neck.

You can’t fling the door open fast enough, heart hammering between your rib cage. The hallway is filled with blissful air conditioning, nothing like the stuffy air of the staircase. You relish in it for a second before taking down the winding halls, torpedoing straight into the room your boyfriend’s in.

“Happy birthday,” you gasp, only hoping you made it in on time. Your sudden appearance has him whirling around in surprise, dark eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets at his surprise intruder. The digital clock above one of his speakers blinks back at you. 11:59.

The surprise wears off soon enough. Namjoon melts back into his puffy chair, easy going smile taking over his features as he regards your ruffled appearance. “Jesus, what’ve you been up to?” he teases playfully, standing up to relieve you of the bag in your hand, still warm against your chest.

He brushes a kiss against your forehead, placing the plastic bag somewhere off behind him before enveloping you in your arms. “Thank you, baby,” he hums, strong arms wrapped around your shoulders. Almost immediately the tension in your body melts away, oozes out of your skin as you bury yourself against his chest. It feels good to be there, the faint cologne from that morning clinging to his white zip-up.

“Sorry I’m so late,” you murmur. Feeling comforted enough, you pull away from your hiding spot against his chest. The arms hanging loosely around your waist don’t let you get too far, low-lidded eyes staring down at you over the straight angle of his nose. “So much happened today— I’m sorry.”

Namjoon waves your apologies off as he guides you towards his computer chair. He plops down first, pulling you over to sit on his thigh. The clock ticks by, and suddenly his birthday is over. The scent of the noodles fills his dark studio, and you become acutely aware of the soft melody drifting from his speakers. Nothing too developed yet, just a simple piano with a bass drum kicking in.

“Another year, another grey hair,” he sighs, leaning back against his seat. You laugh at his dramatics, running a finger through the head full of silver hairs he’s rocking this time around.

“I fail to see the issue,” you muse, shifting about until you can loop your arms around his neck, pulling his face close enough to yours to kiss. He lets you, opening his mouth when your tongue prods against his plush, doll lips. He tastes of that energy drink you know is bad for him, the one that keeps him up way past his nonexistent bedtime. You should scold him for it, but there’s something about the way he molds his mouth against yours that makes it difficult to pull away and do so. You kiss him for a few minutes, lips casually molding against each other.

The enticing scent of the food you brought over has you pulling away with a soft smack of your lips, lazily grinning down at him. “You should eat,” you encourage, attempting to move out of his grip. If anything, the hands on the small of your back stiffen, keeping you comfortably pressed against him.

“Don’t want to,” he whines, half-lidded eyes gazing at you with that tender look. He leans back in, nudges his nose against yours until you’re moving to accommodate him again. His lips catch yours a second time, a soft sigh released on his end. His body feels like a furnace, swaddled up in that nice white tracksuit, some fancy brand he’s an ambassador for. There’s something about him that’s different today, cherry lips catching you in a daze. He seems totally aware of the pull he has over you, moving his mouth against yours like he knows he’s won you over and was now ready to dedicate the rest of the night to you.

You weren’t having any of that, at least not tonight.

Knitting your hands in his hair, you tug. You tug and tug until he’s releasing you with a whine, swollen red lips shiny from your lip gloss. It’s certainly a look on him, and as he pants beneath you, you’re left wondering why he’s chosen to be an elusive rapper when his doll-like face could easily blend into the idol world.

Another mystery you’ll never solve.

“Missed you today,” he admits bashfully, lips pulling into a shy smile he tries to hide from you. You reward his confession with a soft peck against his cheek, hands cupping his soft cheeks between your palms. Despite how easily you’d been forgiven before, there’s a tinge of a whine curling around his next words. “Who blows someone off on their birthday?” he mumbles, eyes fluttering shut.

You chuckle, tracing your thumbs over his skin. They just barely brush against the corners of his mouth, the soft flesh begging to be touched. “Who spends their birthday cooped up in a tiny room?” you reply teasingly, leaning in to kiss the mole beneath his plump lips.

Namjoon inhales softly, head lolling backwards as you kiss down his chin, over his pulse point. “Was inspired,” he weakly defends, the grip around your waist growing tight. “There was a pretty girl in my dreams last night.”

“Oh?” You hum, slithering off his lap. The floor mat he has beneath his rolling chair to protect his hardwood floors is cold. There’s ridges on it that press uncomfortably into your knees. But all that is forgotten when you roll your hands over his shoulders, kiss his neck tenderly, and he groans. “How pretty?”

Your back is straining from being awkwardly stretched over him in a desperate attempt to kiss the entire column of his neck. He doesn’t make it easier, hips wiggling before you as you nip against the side of his neck. “Joon?” you coo, sliding your hands down his chest. The muscles jump beneath his zip-up, one shuddering exhale escaping him.

“R-Real fuckin’ gorgeous,” he mumbles, hands circling your shoulders. He wants to pull you close like he always does, but you can tell he’s equally as conflicted by the need to push you down onto his cock.

The front zip of his sweater gives with one tug, the clicks of the teeth coming apart following your hand down. He’s wearing a plain white shirt underneath, the beginnings of sweat clinging to the flimsy material. You place your hands around his waist, let the fabric catch over your knuckles as you glide them upwards. The sinewy muscle quivers under your touch, Namjoon’s breath catching in your throat.

When you reach his pecs, he barely contains the whimper in his throat, hands releasing you in favor of clutching at the armrest. “Please,” he huffs, the white zip-up halting you from pushing any further. “Off.”

“Of course,” you purr, pushing it over his deltoids. He doesn’t shake the sweater off completely, the sleeves catching over each other in his haste to feel you closer against his body. The t-shirt remains tugged up to his chest, held up by your wandering hands. “Relax for me, okay?” you croon, leaning forward to nip at his lower lip. The plush skin bounces back, redder than ever. He nods shakily, chest rising and falling.

You place a kiss directly on his sternum, his heart fluttering wildly just a few inches away. You feel it beneath your palm, the way it beats wildly out of rhythm for you. The music loops back around, the same melodious tune mixing with his airy sounds. You trail your mouth lower, letting it mold against the faint ridges over his abdomen.

He’s been putting on muscle these last few months. It’s a sight you only get to appreciate in moments like these. Namjoon wasn’t a flashy performer; he was too shy to wear revealing outfits, not that they particularly fit his onstage aesthetic anyway. He liked it simple and dark, wanting his words to capture people more than his looks.

It was a humble approach, really, because you don’t doubt for a second someone with looks of his caliber couldn’t pull fans with that alone. But as you said before, Namjoon didn’t like that sort of thing, and you suppose that’s why he’s declined invitations to join rookie boy groups time and again. He had worked hard to make himself known on his own, frequenting various hip hop scenes until he picked up steam. By the time you’d met him, he had his own contract, with this same company you’re currently in.

Now he was freshly twenty-six, on the cusp of releasing his first full mixtape, completely of his own creativity. His first mini-album had done extraordinarily well, but there had been a lot of outside partners and producers that pushed it along. This mixtape was one hundred percent him, a fact you couldn’t be more proud of.

What better way to treat him than to shower him in attention like this?

You press a soft kiss to his belly button, glancing up just in time to see those plush lips pull into a smile, pearly white teeth appearing in between, eyes fluttered shut. The waistband of his matching bottoms stretches easily enough, giving you a brief view of the dark underwear he’s got underneath. You let it snap back into place, relishing in the tiny gasp he gives. “You’re acting extra sweet for me today, aren’t you?” you smirk, running a palm over the bulge beneath his pants. His knuckles tighten dangerously against his armrests.

“I’m the same,” he chokes out, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you give his outline a teasing squeeze. “Just… lower please.”

His statement is followed with one hand on the back of your head, tentatively urging you closer to his stiff member just an inch. He’s so polite and shy tonight, cheeks tinted a nice rosy color as he looks away from your lewd expression practically salivating over the prize hidden beneath his clothes. His bottoms come down around his thighs, throbbing cock bouncing up to tap his stomach.

“Oooh,” you say appreciatively, taking him in your hand. Namjoon flinches, a groan catching in his throat as you trail your fingers over his cock. They end at the tip, swollen and red; you can’t help yourself as you duck down, kissing the tip softly. Namjoon full on shivers, hips bucking against your touch.

“Please, just... touch,” he begs, wiggling around underneath you.

You nod, pulling away to plant your hands against his hips. “Have to sit still for me, big boy,” you remind him, pushing down until his bottom glues itself firmly to the leather padding of his chair again. He does so with a huff. Clouded eyes meet yours, so beautifully framed by the blood that rushes to his face.

Despite calming him just moments before, the first kiss against his tip makes him squirm and buck like a wild stallion, your name falling from his lips like a mantra. Eventually he calms down, labored breath fanning across his chest as he watches you lower your mouth down around his cock. It twitches in your hand, one perfect pearl of cum oozing from the tip. It’s barely rolled down past his head when you strike, the tip of your tongue scooping it up quickly.

A little on the salty side, but it still makes you shudder. Above you, Namjoon isn't faring that well either. He groans, hands clenched over the armrest as he tries his best to be good for you. “More,” he says hoarsely, silver hair dangling over his eyes. It creates a curtain between you two, his beautiful expression hidden from your view.

You ease his cock down your mouth. It feels just as good as you remembered. Your knees ache from being on the ground, but you wouldn’t trade places with anyone in the world right now. An inaudible moan resonates from above you, his back going stiff the further down you swallow him. You could practically feel yourself drooling, excess saliva making his entrance into your mouth so much easier. You get about two thirds down before it becomes difficult, lips pulled taut around his swollen member. The tip is reaching dangerous territory now, nudging against the soft spot in the back of your throat.

You could gag, but that would only startle him away, make him worry about you. You don’t want that, not when he’s melting into his seat with every inch you swallow. So you push the discomfort away, focus on feeling the entirety of his cock in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he whines, shaking his silvery locks away from his eyes when he leans forward to look at you. You take extra care to bat your lashes up at him; he obviously likes the sight, his lower lip catching between his teeth for the umpteenth time that night.

When you finally surpass that initial discomfort, his cock wonderfully resting in your mouth and throat, everything becomes so much better. The drag against your lips feels almost heavenly, never mind the fact it would certainly leave the skin around there soft and tender tomorrow. It’s something you’re willing to overlook, running the flat length of your tongue against the underside of his cock to distract him.

You make one hand busy, reaching down to cup his balls. The skin is soft, but tight, like it’s taking everything in him not to bust right now. The other situates itself loosely against his hip, thumb drawing slow circles against the skin. He’s grown hotter since you’ve gotten here, like your own personal furnace.

He’s a good boy, through and through.

It had admittedly taken a while to tame his wildness; there had been a time where he would push your head down his cock the second your lips touched his mouth. Now, he fared pretty well against his own carnal instincts, blunt nails digging into the armrests in order to stop himself. Thanks to this, you’re able to pick up a comfortable pace against his cock, bobbing up and down between his thighs.

“M-More,” he pants, muscles trembling from the exertion it takes for him to hold himself back. “Please,” he throws in.

You appease him, letting go of his balls to grip the base of his cock. He hisses at the touch, hips unconsciously jumping. You hold him tight, squeezing his cock between your palm until his thighs are quivering too. The descent down his cock is easier too, no longer trying to swallow him up whole every time.

It only calms him for so long before that same plea is falling from his lips again. This time, you pull off completely, lazily jerking him off as you rest an elbow on his thigh, chin falling into your open palm as you analyze his figure. “Always need more,” you sigh, the slippery sound of your hand mingling with his little moans.

Namjoon’s jaw tightens, head falling forward until his chin touches his chest. “Would like to fuck now,” he seethes, his t-shirt growing damp at the collar from all the sweating he’s been doing.

“Is that so?” You smile. As you say this, you loosen your grip, letting your hand fall away much to his dismay. “Your clothes, Joon,” you explain, using his thighs as leverage to push yourself to your feet again. There’s creases on the skin over your knees, skin and joints tender from the position. That gets pushed to the back burner as you watch Namjoon finally fight his way out of his clothing, hands stuck in the sleeves of his zip-up.

“Off, off,” he huffs, eventually tugging it off all inside out. The shirt is next, neck hole stretched huge as he peels it away from his body.

You muffle a giggle behind your palm, placing a hand on his bare shoulder when he’s done. He’s looking at you with those same, desperate eyes, stealing your heart without even realizing. “Adorable,” you tease only to watch the blood crawl over his ears and down his neck. You throw a leg over him, his thigh pressing against yours. Before you can mount him you’re tugging off the thin jacket you’d worn that day, pawing it off until only the thin barrier of your dress is between the two of you.

With both knees pressed to either side of him, you finally show him what he wants to see. The sundress you’d worn that day makes everything so accessible. The flimsy material stretches over your ass, sits pretty around your waist to reveal your sheer panties. The sight makes Namjoon groan, eyes downcast as he fights to see your pussy. You return his gaze with a hand against his jaw. “Look at me, sweetheart,” you murmur, looping your hands around his head, finding their place on the nape of his neck first. Your fingers instinctively run through his locks, drawing an airy gasp from him.

“Yes,” he breathes, lower lip brushing against yours from such close proximity. You smile down at him, easing your core down on him. His cock pressed against your clothed panties, leaving a wet trail against the exterior side of them.

He fits snugly between your folds, hesitant hands resting at your hips like he wants to grind you down but knows better than to attempt such a bold move. You reward his behavior with a faint kiss against his cheek. “Good boy, Joonie,” you praise, barely containing your own gasp as you wiggle over his cock. “Being so nice for me today,” you sigh, grinding down against him.

Namjoon shivers, cock throbbing against your soiled panties. “Always good for you,” he groans, a trail of sweat running down from his hairline.

Another kiss is pressed against his face, this time against his cheekbone as you begin grinding back and forth. “That’s right,” you confirm, hugging him tight to your chest, until his face is practically buried between your breasts. “Even on your birthday,” you sigh, stretching a hand behind you to tug your panties to the side. The first glide of his cock against your folds has him bucking against you, a choked gasp escaping both your lips.

“I-Yes,” he cries, hands wrapped tight around you.

You bite down a whimper, his length running over every inch of your folds. It makes your toes curl when he stimulates your clit. Your attention had been solely on making him feel good tonight, that the barest amounts of pleasure to your own body was enough to make you shake. “Tell me,” you pant, moving back to grab him by the shoulders as you run against his length. “What you would do if you weren’t my good boy.”

Namjoon cries at your sudden pace, head lolling back as he fights every instinct in his body telling him to just fuck right into your inviting heat. “Can’t,” he sobs, eyes squeezed shut.

“Joon,” you growl, snapping your hips forward roughly. “Tell me.”

He shakes his head with another whimper, thigh muscles jolting beneath you. It makes you shift forward, clit running hard along his cock. “No, you’ll—“ he wheezes, fingers digging deep into your sides now. “You’ll… think I’m bad. Dirty.”

You lean forward, shove your tongue into his mouth with no warning. He moans, letting you push his tongue around until yours is halfway down his throat, licking and slurping every inch of him you can reach. You yank his head back by the hair, catching those watery eyes. “Tell me all your dirty thoughts,” you croon, lips trailing down his jaw. “Tell me them and maybe we’ll make them come true.”

Namjoon moans. “You,” he hesitates. While he does that, you reach down to align his cock with your hole, throbbing to be filled. His tip brushes along the tightened lips surrounding your entrance, reducing him to a stuttering mess. “You tell me I’m dirty,” he cries, “dirty and messy, and-and you make me beg for forgiveness just to cum, s-sometimes you don’t like it and make me d-do it again,” he babbles. “I-if you’re feeling mean y-you just edge me. Until I cry.”

You sink down on his cock, your shared arousal making the glide slippery and so wet. It’s almost too easy how he fits inside of you, your back arching as the head of his cock runs deliciously against your walls. The sensation of your cunt wrapped tightly around his cock has him gasping for air.

“Until you cry?” You repeat through clenched teeth. “Like you are now?”

Namjoon trembles, hips and thighs twitching every few minutes. He nods his head, but he’s become overwhelmed by his thoughts and your touches, so the movement ends up looking more dazed. There’s a couple tears that escaped and painted pretty trails down his cheeks, one catching on the corner of that pout of his. The rest pool in the corner of his eyes, glassy just like his sweat-soaked skin.

“Happy birthday,” you mumble, brushing his hair away from his face to press a kiss against his forehead. Namjoon groans. “Fuck me, baby,” you purr, wrapping your hands around his neck again. “You deserve it.”

Namjoon lets out a loud cry at your permission, hands tightening around your hips. He wastes no time, bucking into you like a wild animal that’s desperate to cum. You don’t blame him; he’d been close to cumming down your throat, and recounting his demeaning fantasies while stuffed deep inside you certainly didn’t help.

You let him jostle you to and fro, dick slipping in and out of your pussy with an unreal amount of force. He was grunting all kinds of sounds against your shoulder, biting down on the skin like it would calm him. It doesn’t, and you already know there will be a big bruise to attend to tomorrow.

With every thrust, the head of his cock rubs against that sensitive spot in your pussy, back arching at the angle he pushes in at. It makes every hair on your body stand, the animalistic sounds he’s releasing reaching deep into your core.

It’s a brief reminder of what this man was truly capable of, buff arms and thick thighs lifting you around like you’re nothing. He could so easily take you over in the bedroom, push you down and ram himself inside until you cried. But it’s the other way around, and he likes it that way.

Well, you liked it that way too, especially if it meant having this big strong man so pliant under your touch.

“Fuck,” you moan, holding the back of his head closer to where he’s seemingly set on bruising your entire shoulder. “Just like that.”

Your walls clench around his length, squeezing him so tight that it becomes difficult for him to move. A wail catches in his throat, his body beginning to burn out from the initial burst of energy he’d received when you gave him the go ahead. “I-I,” he pants, weakly and unevenly bucking into you. You know he’s close from the cute wavering of his speech, his usual eloquent speaking style reduced to a stuttering mess. You take pity on him, gearing your muscles up again to see him to completion.

It doesn’t take long. A few slow rolls of your hips later and he’s spasming beneath you, your name rolling off his tongue in a series of soft whimpers. He continues groaning even afterwards, hands falling limply to his sides as you finish yourself off.

The thing about this big strong body was that it burned out extremely fast, his head rolling back to give you a clear view of his fucked out features. He was tired, absolutely drained from your little moment, and such was exhibited on his lax frame. Your orgasm rolls around right after, stomach clenching. Despite the shock of pleasure that swallows you up, you can’t help the endeared smile that takes over your features at the sight beneath you as you cum.

“So proud of you,” you murmur afterwards, cupping his face in your hands to deliver a brigade of kisses against his skin. He groans in faux annoyance, letting you turn him this way and that as you shower him in affection. “My baby did so well today.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffs, though the ghost of a smile tugs at his lips. “What’s there to eat?”

You snort, pushing yourself off of him. You wiggle your panties and dress back into place, tossing him his discarded shirt as you make toward the noodles. They’ve probably gone cold by now, neglected in favor of fucking like two bunnies in heat. Still, you give them a poke. Just as you’d predicted, they’re way too cold to be edible, a fact which greatly saddens Namjoon.

You weren’t having any of that, especially not on his birthday (it was 12:49 now, but technically, it’s still his birthday until he goes to sleep), which is why you make him pack everything up right away. “I’ll heat them up at my place,” you assure him, patting his bum as he whines at the sudden relocation. He’s tugging his zip-up on, the collar tugged all the way up for him to hide the lower half of his face behind.

It doesn’t stop you from pressing a kiss over where you know his mouth is.

“Come on,” you grin, waiting for him to lock up his studio. He falls into step beside you, grudgingly throwing a hand around your shoulders. You beam up at him, leaning onto your toes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll make you cry at my place,” you promise, relishing in the dark flush that floods the apples of his cheeks.

#ksmutclub #networkbangtan #kim namjoon smut #namjoon smut #namjoon fic #rm smut #bts smut #kim namjoon fic #mine

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theacademic · 2 years

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- End of the Year Reading Tag -

Thanks to @bulletnotestudies for making this! I know this is was made for being tagged and tagging others, but I wasn’t tagged and will not tag anyone, I just like to answer questions. If you enjoy answering questions as much as I do, please consider yourself tagged.

Did you reach your reading goal for the year (if you had one)?

Yes! My goal was to read 10 books (which it has been for the last years), and I have read 26 by no (29th December). I always set a low goal I know that I will be able to reach, so that I don't feel any pressure about reading, but only the fun in it.

What are your top 3 books you read this year?

1. The Secret History by Donna Tartt

2. Det er ikke synd på meg men jeg syns det by Maren Granrud (Norwegian book, unfortunatley no English translation by now)

3. Two Sisters by Åsne Seierstad

What's a book that you didn't expect to enjoy quite so much going in?

I started reading the Norwegian translation of Nineteen Eighty-Four by Orwell some years ago but never finished it. Last summer I bought the English edition in hope that I would enjoy that one a bit more, which I did not. I did finish it though. I also bought Animal Farm, and feard it would be as hard to read as Ninteen Eighty-Four, but it felt nothing like it! I really enjoyed it.

Were there any books that didn't live up to your expectations?

This is all on me for not doing proper research, but I somehow thought that The Mitford Murders by Jessica Fellowes would be a great murder mystery, and I have never been so disappointed by a book for as long as I can remember. Awful.

Did you reread any old faves? If so, which one was your favourite?

I always listen to my favourite parts of Harry Potter when I play the Sims, if that counts.

Did you dnf any books?

No. I am usually pretty good at knowing what I will enjoy, and I also enjoy a lot of different genres, which makes it easy to find something I will enjoy. If I read something I don't like I usually finish them anyway, or put them on hold for a year or two and try again (like with Nineteen Eighty-Four).

Did you read any books outside your usual preferred genre(s)?

Not really, like I mentioned above I find most genres interesting, and like to vary my readings based on my mood etc.

What was your predominant format this year?

Physical books, pocket edition is my preferred format and what I use 98% of the time (if you don't count books for my studies (which I don't), most of them have been digital copies this year).

What's the longest book you read this year?

The Secret History by Donna Tarrt (559 pages according to Goodreads).

What are your top 3 anticipated 2022 releases?

I don't really pay attention to new releases, so I have no idea. Please give me a tip if you know about something that you thing I might enjoy!

What books from your tbr did you not get to this year, but are excited to read in 2022?

I am currently reading The Goldfinch by Donna Tarrt, and my plan was to finish it this year, but that didn't happen, so that's one. I also planned on reading Crime and Punishment by Fjodor Dostojevskij, but hope I will manage in 2022.

(I apologise for any spelling mistakes or other mistakes, English is not my first language and this was written past bedtime)

#studyblr #booklr #bookblr #books #student #acadamia aesthetic #dark acadamia aesthetic #academia #light academia #aestethic #dark academia #new year #bookish

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readerinsertfanfiction · 3 years

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Neeeeeeemo darling❤❤❤! Eeeeeeeep😆😆😆 okay i know i should probs be sleeping buuuut😅😅😅 hehehe yeah😅last spam for the night, else ima kick myself tomorrow for staying up past bedtime 😅😅😅 anyways! 😂😂😂

Could i pretty please with all the candy ontop request a comfort fic with my dearest Theo (hehehe cause no spam would be complete witbout my dearest theodorkus) ❤❤❤❤so basically i loved ya nobu comfort fic so much and like.... my heart melts just as much with fics where the suitors gets comforted and built up🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😳😳😳😳plus i feel like Theo needs one big hug for all the shit he goes through and has gone thru! Plus his work o holiness ❤❤☺😳

😳hehehe love ya to infinity! Hehehe okay i am finally off to bed😅for reals this time😅😅can ya tell i was thinking about that nobu comfort fic you did😅😅😅and then was like u know who else needs cuddles 😂😂//insert that meme of remembering unfinished homework 😂😂❤😳pfffffft whooooops left ya another essay 😅😅😅😳😳😳😳 night darling Nemo❤❤❤❤may u go to bed early and have sweet dreams🍁❤🥺

Zetaaaaa-daaaaarling!!! Y u no sleep? No kicking yourself, only sleeping more and less gym time and more me-time! 😂😂😂

I’m surprised that the comfort the suitor fics are getting popular now, because it isn’t like it is the first time I write them, just the first time I wrote for Nobu, I guess. 😂😂😂

I lub your rambles, Zeta-dearest. They’re so cute and really brightens the mood and makes your requests not so standard as well (and gives me a reason to talk more as well because apparently Tumblr still thinks I’m an oyster 😅😅😅).

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Character: Theodor(k)us van Gogh

Prompt: Some comfort for the dork

When Theo woke up that day he knew that there was something off. The cool of the morning chilled him, his blankets were not enough, and there was an empty space next to him. A space usually occupied by you, but Theo knew that you had to leave early today. Yet, the space was glaring at him, the spot already cool from the heat that had evaporated.

Even the colours of the world seemed a little dimmer, duller. The garden wasn’t as captivating, his brother’s paintings didn’t fill him with the joy and spark he usually felt. And then there was the light throbbing of his scar. It felt sore and tender as the man groaned into his pillow, wondering what the day had planned for him.

"Sorry, they're a little burned," Sebastian had apologised at the breakfast table, horrifying him further. Was this how his entire day was to go? The bottle of maple syrup that Theo was so known to love was also half empty, though in the back of his mind an annoying voice told him to cheer up, followed by your chipper encouraging one;

'Kop op! You can still pour it!'

Theodorus wondered when you would return. He knew that you lived your own life just like he had his own. He even admired you for it, encouraging you to pursue your own path despite the strange times. But without you by his side Theo’s day felt off, strange, and it was the space next to him that he was missing. It felt as if eons had passed since he had felt your warmth, but he knew that he was being dramatic if he were to express it.

'Of all days to be busy…' he thought. A gentle press onto his shoulder followed and the sunny smile of his brother came into view.

"Goedemorgen Theo," Vincent chirped, but even his beloved brother's winning smile didn't help defrost the chill within. As if the chill he had frozen over instead, holding him hostage in this state of demurity and slight helplessness.

"Are you alright?" Vincent had questioned, those clear blue eyes nothing but sincerity and worry. It made Theo feel even worse who could only grimace back at his older brother and reassure the man that he was, perhaps just a little tired.

“The old chap is missing his darling,” Arthur had beamed up instead, hoping to draw out a reaction from Theo. The silence he was met with and the solemn confirmation within those dark blue eyes of the Dutchman floored even the infamous author, however. This had been a look that Theo hadn’t worn in a long while, at least not since you entered into his life.

Theo wasn’t the type to wear his emotions openly. Guarded as he was he kept them all securely locked away, sometimes even from himself as he didn’t want to be reminded of his own darkness and traumas. It had taken him so long to finally open up to you, and even then he had moments in which he relapsed.

Even the pompous asses of the Académie seemed to have taken note of his solemnity, for once keeping out of his way as they stared after him, striding in and out of the place as chitchats were kept to a bare minimum. A reaction that was for the best, for Theo didn’t feel like barking for once. Not at them, or at anyone.

“A note?”

The folded piece of paper stretched out to him came from a young boy that the two of you had helped. A budding talent, Theo had only needed to see the sand drawings the boy had made with his stick and an apprenticeship later the boy had turned into a little friend.

“I was told to give this one if you’re sad,” the boy explained, earning a quirk from Theo’s brows as he held out his hand, picking the note with his other.

“And if I was not?” he inquired, but the boy didn’t need that many words to understand what the art-dealer wanted;

“Then there was none, other than to tell you to ditch your hat.”

The child was much too witty as well, but the man let it slide as he chuckled, a grin spreading over his face for the first time of the day. With a tip of his hat the male turned away, leaving the last ignored as he unfolded the note;

‘Lonely? Ditch the hat. :) <3’

This earned another chuckle from the man, your familiar hand and the strange symbols that were supposed to mean something lifted something within him. When he looked up from the note the sky seemed a little bluer and the sun a bit brighter.

Adjusting his hat Theo pulled the piece off, looking down at the gray cap that matched his suit so well. “If that would summon you,” he contemplated. He often ignored your jabs at his hat, finding nothing wrong with the piece. But if he had to choose between the two of you his choice would have been easily made. It didn’t matter how attached he pretended to be, there were other hats, but there was only one you.

“Did you ditch it?” your voice popped up, your figure peeking up at him from behind as your face fell at the sight of the hat in his hands, “at least it isn’t on your head,” you pouted, rather disappointed, though grimaced at him all the same as Theo stared at you rather dumbfounded.

“Surprise?” you tell the man with a chuckle as you move your hands in the air, “I just finished, let’s go home together?”

Theo didn’t need to be asked a second time. Nor did he manage to answer in a smart quip or with his usual classics. The hat dropped out of his hand and arms wrapped around you, pulling you in and close as he felt himself defrost against your warmth. An exhale of relief followed after as now the man felt whole once more. A huff from your side filled with mirth ringing in his ears and committed to memory.

“Oh, who is the pup now,” you jovially exclaim, but you pat his back all the same. Comforting the man that would never admit the gloom and doom of the hours spent without you.

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