#guess ill just let em grow on me

[hiraya-sa-dilim]

need a ten hr version of goldie sleeping on my lap and nobody else talking cus im on edge waiting for murder to happen

#the sandman #the sandman dreamcast #goldie the gargoyle #hmmm i liked the brothers audiobook versions better #but thats cus theyre voice actors i suppose #guess ill just let em grow on me

[chuuyasheaven]

Chuuya’s NSFW Alphabet

Summary; Nsfw Alphabets with a twist! (basically using the letters of his name)

Warnings; nsfw stuff, lazy?, rushed, typos, etc.

Notes; Instead of working on the event I’m writing this..I SWEAR ILL GET THIS OFF MY CHEST AND I WILL GET BACK TO WRITINGGG!!! For some letters there might be nothing coming up in my brain rn so yea enjoy! (p.s: This was from 1-2 weeks ago..also this isn’t the original from this idea! Enjoy ‼️🤗)

C = Cum

I think it’ll taste somewhat sweet, like it has a sweet aftertaste. I also think he cums a average amount, maybe more sometimes, might be rare, though.

H = Hair

He’s decently groomed, i guess, there might some little hairs growing back (if I’m right). But, seems decent and clean enough!

U = Unfair (I’ll use one ‘u’ for my sake..)

Is Chuuya a tease? I mean, kinda if you think about it. If you were a brat, he’ll tease you to rile you up a little. In a normal ‘love-making’ scenario, he actually doesn’t, only if he wants to see you beg.

U = Use of toys

Personally, i don’t think he’ll use ‘em, he’s quite possessive, y’know? But he might try them once in a while!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I like to think that it’s a little over average, i don’t have anything else to say.

A = Aftercare

AFTERCARE KING!! He’ll treat you like royalty after, brings you something to drink, makes you a bath, maybe cook for you, anything that will make you comfortable!

N = No

Anything with piss or vomit. Also, he won’t do anything that might hurt you in the slightest. Daddy kink is a no-no. (Sorry, but why call him something he doesn’t have?)

A = Anal Sex

Personally, i don’t even like anal sex, but if you’re a guy or into it, might do it.

K = Kink

Probably brat taming, hear me out, Chuuya most likely spoil you ALOT. So, you might gain a bratty attitude, he must remind you who’s in charge here! Also a big sucker for praise.

A = - (idk 🥲)

H = Hair pulling

He’s into it, recieving or giving, i guess. Just don’t pull too hard. He might pull your hair while you give him head, though.

A = (I’m not that creative...so idk)

R = Risk(s)

Would he do it in public? Nah, he might let you cockwarm him or suck him off in his office, but other i don’t know.

A = - (atp it won’t matter)

HOPE YOU ENJOYED (kinda)

#bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara smut #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs smut

[jalluzas-ferney]

Soooo….I made some nationality headcannons! At first I was a liiittle bit unsure if to do so cuz then again.. they live in ninjago…. And im pretty sure countries like argentina or Morocco don’t quite exist in the ninjago universe LMAO. Butttttt. Already seen others make headcannons, so hell, why not? I uses they apply to some irl au or what if they lived in our world uk? And what different countries would I see them coming from and etc.

I can imagine that the EM might have travelled all over the world, either to go into hiding, or missions, or escape conflict, etc. Or maybe simply that’s where they came from! So yeah that’s my little explanation that is mostly for myself cuz im a little bit too literal sometimes lol.

When thinking about nationality I always think a lot about where they grew up and what nationality they grew up with and would later on identify with the most. It’s a complicated concept when your parents are from a different nationality and theyre immigrants in a different country- so you grow up in this country, surrounded by this culture and people, but your. Also. Raised by your parents who also have your family living in this completely different country- where you also find home and relate to the people considering how you look, the language you speak with your parents- or the specific culture and environment your parents grew up wiooith, impacting your home life and the way your raised. Perhaps you lived in both places, or travel a lot to your parents homeland. Perhaps you live in one of your parents countries but the other. Not. but you still identify with one of your parents nationality because of the rest of your family from that side and the culture your take in from them. So it’s always very personal! So for Kai and Nya, I imagined that ray was Argentinian and Maya Filipino. And perhaps - because I want to project onto my faves- they were born and grew up in Argentina. But have always also identified a lot with their mothers homeland, since not only does their race impact the way they might feel more different and set apart from kids there, maya loves talking about her childhood in the Philippines and is always talking over the phone with their aunts and cousins, meaning Kai and Nya def were taught some Tagalog, tho theyre not incredibly fluid with it. In their early teens they probably travelled to the Philippines, (took ray and maya some time to settle down and get enough money to travel, as well as find time) and met their whole family, and the place they reside in, habit that would turn quite common as they would continue to travel other times the following years.

For Lloyd, I really wanted to make him Asian -Brazilian. It just felt right. So imagined that my queen (don’t you judge her >:() Misako would be Brazilian, meanwhile Garmadon,Japanese. i imagine that Misako adores traveling, so she met Garmadon on her trip to Japan, and decided to stay there for a WHILE because of the brothers. During her time there, she had Lloyd. Since her family heard of her new baby, she travelled back to Brazil with a two y/o Lloyd to have her family meet the him and catch up overall. but as the serpentine wars rose In japan (ill hc it happened in japan let me know what u think of that) Misako was told to wait in Brazil. Misako didn’t really like that though, and while she dreaded having to leave her son, she was sure shed come back soon after helping out the Brothers in the battle against the serpentine. So Lloyd was left to live with his aunties and grandparents in Brazil. Of course, after Misako found out about the whole Green Ninja thing and all that crap, she pulled the same stunt as in the series and ✨ vanished ✨. But then Garmadon came and fucking took him like divorced parents sometimes do uk? So then he spent some other of his childhood years growing up in, ya guessed it, Japan. This is how Lloyd identifies both with being a Brazilian and Japanese. As for the rest, I just envision that they lived in their respective countries their whole lives till they were recruited!

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago headcannons #sora wyldfire and arin are in the making btw! #ninjago cole #cole ninjago #cole brookestone #Kai ninjago #ninjago kai #kai jiang #Nya jiang #Nya smith #Ninjago nya #nya ninjago #Kai smith #jay walker #ninjago jay #jay ninjago #Zane Julien #ninjago zane #zane ninjago #lloyd garmadon #lloyd #lloyd ninjago #Ninjago Lloyd #ninja headcannons #ninjago hc #headcannons #hc #nationality headcannons

[gettinshiggywithit]

!Dabi x Bakugou’s Sister!Reader!

🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧

Scenario:- How Bakugou’s sister and dabi met!

Pairing:- dabi x Bakugou’s sister!reader

@izukuisbaby I HOPE U LIKE IT BESTIEEE PLS LMK WHAT U THINK??🥺

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Like before he joined the league kinda back

Because I honestly dont think he’d jump into a relationship.i think hed take his sweet time and honestly?good on him!

Im thinkin,dingy alley at night kinda setting.

He woulda been bummin a cig(I honestly hate this because BESTIE YOURE GONNA GET A CVD?????LIKE PUT THAT SHIT AWAY) and you sniff the air,pinch your nose closed and walk up to him

Now we know dabi hadnt committed and “flashy crimes” before joining the league so i dont think hed risk lightin you up then and there.especially if there’d be a way to to talk his way outta it

Cause as we know,this bitch can talk.hes smoother than a ferret in a piping system when he needs to/wants to be.

He’d be ready just in case he had to defend himself and all you’d do is snatch the cig from his lips and crush it under your heel

You’d give him a disapproving look up and down and just scoff before walking our of the alley and continuing on your way

Hed be STUNNED like

“Huh????”

Fuckin confusion incarnate this mfer

But like after five seconds he shaked himself ot of his trance and gets out of that alley.

He thinks about it tho. About you.not 24/7 or anything just you pop into his head every now and then.

Over the nexr few weeks you continue to bump into each other and you noticed him every time

He isn’t exactly forgettable

And finally about three weeks in you actually stop him

You pull on his raggedy little overshirt and he’s like ‘shit not her again’

You look him dead in the eye and pull him into a side street. And confront him

“Hey what gives???”

“....”

“Okay let me rephrase.why the hell are you following me??”

“Pfft im not following you.”

“Oh so you do speak,well then why the fuck have i been seeing you literally everywhere for the past three weeks?”

“I dont know what the fuck youre talking about.”

You stared into his eyes and you could tell he genuinely didnt do it on purpose...after growing up with katsuki you learned how to search for the truth in peoples eyes because,as you’d learned by observing bakugou, their eyes often betrayed what their voice and words tried to mask.

“Hmmph you really havent been following me...sorry um about that.... im y/n.” You said extending your hand and he just looked at it warily

When he didn’t respond you proded further

“And you are?????”

“Uh dabi...the name’s dabi”

“You slowly retracted your hand(he didnt shake it{THE LION THE WITCH AND THE AUDACITY OF THIS BITCH})

Just then you heard a rustling from the back of the alley

You both turned to see a group of thugs ready to ambush you

He ignited his palms and you yours.

You were no damsel in distress.youd trained with your brother since you were a little girl!

You both fought them off him Ofc deal more lethal blows than you.

And finally when all the bodies which had been attacking you were either burned to ash or incapacitated you looked at eachother and smiled just a little

“We make a pretty good team,staples”

“I guess we do”

“Soo how about dinner and a movie huh? My treat. You got most of em,left less for me”

He naturally looked skeptical.

But after a few minutes he nodded his head

“Yh sure”

What was the worst that could happen? Him falling for you?? Not a Goddam chance!(hehehehehe)

So you went on your date that Friday and the rest is history!

🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧🎧

please dont repost my work here as your own on any platform all rights belong to me except that of the mha characters used,their right belong to their respective owners.but this story? mine.

feedback,likes,reblogs and comments are so very appreciated tbh :’)i hope you enjoyed and ill catch ya next time!

Reblogs with tags>>>>>>>>>likes please

Tagging: @izueli @izukuisbaby

#bnha #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #dabi #touya todoroki #league of villains #todoroki touya #dabi x reader #my hero academia dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #dabi x me #dabi x self insert #mha fluff #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #dabi fluff #dabi fic #dabi fanfic #bnha touya #dabi brainrot #dabi headcanons #dabi x bakugou!reader #jaya writes for bnha 0 o #jaya writes for mha 0 o #jaya writes 0 o #mha dabi

[eilinelsghost]

Sounds of Atandil

I initially shared part of the playlist in response to this ask, but I've realized I should just make a main post for it that I can keep updated as the series grows. The playlist is intended to go along with the Atandil series and includes one song per installment.

1. Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis || Ralph Vaughan Williams, Hallé, Sir Mark Elder So as I mentioned in the summary, this is basically the theme for the whole series. It has such a breadth of emotion and beauty in it, and it makes me tear up almost every time. I love this piece so much. And consequently it's really fitting that it's also the primary one associated with Part 1, since that is sort of the flagship installment of the series where all the philosophical framework gets laid out.

2. Gravity || Ludovico Einaudi This piece captures so much of the movement from Grief in All Her Guises. It conjures up the movement of the river in the opening scene, the butterfly that began the Quenya lessons, the laughter around the fire at lunchtime, the sound of Finrod's voice as Balan experiences it moving through him on the hilltop, the overarching movement of the stars dancing overhead.

3. Child of the Troubles || Andrew Simon McAllister Tragically this one no longer plays on Apple Music or Spotify, but I linked to the artist's page in the song title where you can stream it. This one is the partner track to Unfriends and Belen's run-in with the Laiquendi.

4. The Fall || Hans Zimmer Just such excellent Fen of Serech vibes here, especially the 2nd half. I literally listened to this one on loop while writing Ye Shall Render Blood and it is the whole mood of that installment.

5. Solringen || Wardruna The whole piece works well as the right feelings for A Shuddering in the Air, but specifically the chunk beginning at 4:44 was the underlying inspiration for the way they deliver the "oath of parting" in the burial rites at the end.

6. Night || Ludovico Einaudi Appropriately named musical accompaniment for Here in Our Frailty, which takes place all throughout the Longest Night. Additional excellent vibes as that sometimes the warbly effect on certain notes reminds me of the haunting ice sounds that I listened to on loop for the Finrod-has-a-freakout section.

7. Flora || Ludovico Einaudi Ok so apparently half of this playlist is just Ludovico Einaudi, but that's because his stuff is great. The peaceful vibes of lying in a golden field while your crush drops a snowdrop flower on your face and flirts while completely clueless are all over this one, so it's the partner piece to A Heady Fragrance of Honey.

8. Into Dust || Mazzy Star This is my ultimate doomed mortal/immortal relationship song. The only explanation needed here is honestly to direct you straight to the lyrics. It even references fading. Absolute perfection and the correct level of abject sorrow for In Memory Untarnished.

9. Citizen of Glass || Agnes Obel This one is just Correct for Vassal somehow. I'm pretty sure it is this line of lyrics that solidified it for me: Some let go and some hold on / There is no mistake / If I could wash all ill away / Tell me would you stay? But also it just has all the right feelings to it, if that makes sense.

10. Time Escaping || Big Thief Happy road trip music for the boys! Or. Well. Extremely depressing road trip music for the boys given the context and the song title and the mortality and um...god can't these two be happy for one second. Happiness I guess, much like the installment this goes with, is A Shifting Mirage.

11. The Path of the Fossils || Ludovico Einaudi He's back, folks! As I said - apparently half the playlist. But anyway, I love the recurring waves of impending emotion that continuously come back throughout this piece. It works so well with the barrage of feelings that both Finrod and Beren work through in Many a Dreadful Path. And in addition to that, the title plays very nicely with the shelf of memories and Beren's recollection of Emeldir telling him, “Know the path your forefathers set so that in such grounding you may see where your own should diverge.” 

12. Númenor || Bear McCreary I have...complicated feelings re Rings of Power (to put it mildly), but thankfully those have not killed how much I love this piece from the soundtrack. In fact, it's so thoroughly associated now with Balan's arrival in Nargothrond in Children of the Sun that I almost forget it very much belongs with something else.

13. Change || Big Thief So much of And Still the Light Returns is about each character navigating change in the other(s) or their circumstances that this just seemed appropriate. Also uh: Would you live forever, never die / While everything around passes? / Would you smile forever, never cry / While everything you know passes?

14. Stretch Your Eyes || Agnes Obel It took me quite awhile to land on one for In These Holy Waters. But about halfway through writing it, this song came on in an old playlist and immediately clicked. It's the movement of the water in the melody, the mingled mournfulness and defiance. The dark and the ghost / They dance so sweet and slow / Dug-out from below there / to damn the gods

15. Song with No Name || Johnny Flynn And as a teaser, this is the song for the upcoming Atandil 15 (Darkly the Sundering Flood). I won't say anything more than that, but I'm still hoping hoping hoping to have this one out before the new year. We'll see.

#playlist #Atandil #writing music #series playlist

[zetaro]

Rambly lil post about some things going through my head. TW: depression stuff

When I was a kid, my friend got hit in the face with a basketball. Me being ever the 9 year old comedian joked about getting them an ambulance, maybe to distract them from the pain, maybe cause I didn't know how else to deal with the situation, maybe cause I was just being a lil shit, I no longer remember. What I do remember, and what I probably will remember for the rest of my life, is what they said next: "you can't help, you can only be sarcastic". and they were right, I was not helping in that situation. I don't think I had the tools nessicary to help. My friend was in pain, and I had failed to help them.

That feeling, and those words, stuck with me. At times, it lead me to isolate myself from the people around me. If I couldn't improve thier lives in any way, the best thing I could do for them is keep my distance. A lot of lonely bus rides home were the result of this line of thinking. Those words would play out at my lowest moments and worst of failures. "You can't help" became "what are you even doing here? You can't help and will only make things worse". It made me question my worthiness to even exist.

Other times, these words would make me into a door mat. "You cant help" you say? Ill show you, ill be the most helpful person this side the Mississippi. Id bend over backwards to anyone who I might be able to prove my worth to. If they needed a light I would set myself ablaze just to help them see. Needless to say I burnt out. And when you are in a state where you can no longer help yourself, it is near impossible to help others in any meaningful way. So we cycle back a paragraph and shut ourselves off from the world.

Even though i have grown a lot since then, I still find myself slipping into these old hats every once and a while. Id like to think that i am a generous person, something that I don't intend to change, but I now realize how there are unfortunately people who are too eager to take advantage of the kindness I offer. I also still turtle up in my shell when things get tough. If I am unable to help others, then I should be alone, or at least that's the thinking process. It's made asking for help difficult, but I am still learning and growing. And even though I really want to help others as much as I can, I now realize that I need to be solid aswell. It takes a balance, one that I am still trying to get right.

I think its quite interesting how little events from our past, seeming innocuous to others, can shape the people we become. I'm thankful for what my friend said that day because it made me want to be a selfless person. But at the same time, those words haunted me, and every person I let down that voice re-appeared. "You can't help". And you know what? Sometimes I can't help, and that is okay. I am trying my best to help however I can whenever I am able. And even though I will not always be able to help, I will do my best to try, and I hope that is enough. "You can't help" becomes "you didn't help, but you tried, and maybe next time you will".

So I guess if you are reading this then thanks for hearing my thoughts, I hope they were somewhat interesting. The takeaway is idk try and do good but if it doesn't work out then don't sweat it too much. Mission failed we'll get em next time kinda energy. Change what you can, accept that you can't change some things.

[konako]

i(.)redd(.)it/ic0eoxllbgv91(.)jpg Red Warrior AU. Former soldier meets waitress with a secret. They solve mysteries and fight their growing attraction to one another. farfarawaysite(.)com/section/once/gallery2/gallery4/hires/27(.)jpg

The—The noise that left my body, when I opened that first picture. I couldn't even put a name to that emotion. Wow.

First of all, absolutely yes.

Second, what kind of secret are we talking about? Is this a No-Magic AU? Or are we talking Mulan-Got-Included-In-The-Curse AU? Or something in the middle? Because let me tell you, the image I got.

Mulan, former soldier, works at The Gale's farm for a living, riding horses, training horses, breaking horses, all that. People joke that she's a Horse Whisperer, able to tame any wild beast, no matter how feral or how scared. They say she's got a gift. Mulan says it's only patience. (She's never been one to accept compliments. That's the first of many reasons she's been mostly alone)

A life in the military left her ill-prepared for normal social situations, she appears stoic and distant to many that meet her. She doesn't have many friends, and she told herself she prefers it that way. Much like the niece of her friend and long-time employer Aunt Em, Mulan is more comfortable around animals than people. (Maybe that's why she gets along so well with the Gale girl) Her life and work at the farm is enough. She's content.

But one day Aunt Em wakes up sick and Mulan needs to ride to town to fetch her more of the medicine she's prescribed. "And some lunch!", screamed Dorothy, by her Aunt's side. Burgers and pancakes with everything on top, was her request. "What's everything?" Mulan wanted to know — she's always wanted to do a good job, a perfect job; making a mistake, even a silly one like messing up lunch, could ruin her entire month. "Don't worry. Ask for Wolfie. She knows my order". Mulan is relieved to know they have a back-up plan and she gladly heads to town.

Mulan has never stepped foot in the town's diner. The bell that rings over her head as she enters through the door is an alien sound.

She's got their order written down, just in case she forgets. "Everything on top", scribbled in Dorothy's clumsy handwriting. And "Ask for Wolfie", just below it, in Mulan's perfect lines and letters.

She decides she doesn't want to risk it. Aunt Em has woken up to a another bad day as it was, Mulan doesn't want to make it worse by bringing home the wrong lunch. Help, it is. As awful as it feels to admit it.

She asks for Wolfie.

And she's surprised when it's a woman that greets her. Wolfie. Mulan had expected a big man with a beard and bad manners. Instead, it's a young woman. Tall, long hair and bright eyes.

"What can I get you?" The woman, Wolfie — No, that can't be her name — leans on her elbows over the counter, flashing Mulan a wide, honest smile. "No, wait, let me guess," The woman frowns, but her smile doesn't leave her face. She points at Mulan, "You're a friend of Dorothy's?"

Mulan blinks. That is just right.

"Yes." Mulan nods. "How did you know?"

The woman shrugs, "She's the only one that calls me Wolfie," She presses her lips together, and, for a second, Mulan is drawn away from her green eyes. "I don't mind it, but it's kind of an inside joke of ours. You can call me Ruby"

Ruby offers Mulan her hand. Mulan takes it. A firm handshake, as she was taught by her father. Most people are put off by that, she's been told, but Mulan refuses to limply shake a hand. It's not the proper way to greet someone.

To her surprise, yet again, the woman has a grip as firm as hers. The first to do it, in a long time.

Maybe, it's the first person Mulan has properly met, in a long time.

"I'm Mulan", she says, "I work for The Gales"

Ruby arches her eyebrows, leaning further over the counter. "Hmm. Lucky you. It's a beautiful place, up there. The perfect open field to run around"

"You've been there before," Mulan says, and it's half a question, half a statement.

"It's been a long time" Ruby drops her head to the side, looking out the window. "But then they got the horses and I figured I shouldn't come close. I tried it, at first, but it was a... whole thing." She frowns, and this time, her smile falters. When she looks back at Mulan, though, it's firmly back in place.

Mulan blinks, "Why was that? You're afraid of horses?" She asks, finding herself strangely curious.

"Kind of," Ruby sighs. "Yeah, I guess you can say that"

#RW HC #rw f

[chanstopher]

ah-em, if you dont mind ill be in ur asks EVERY.SINGLE.DAY

cuz ur just too precious how can someone get bored ╥_╥

anyway I popped in ur asks today to share my fav pics of channniiieeee (˘ ³˘)♥

numberrrrr 1.

THIS. do I even need to say why ? ok maybe yeah but like eh- first of all it gives me comfy vibes tbh, and personally I feel like I wanna hug him and never let go in this pic ** ◡‿◡ **

numberrrrrrr 2.

I JUST WANNA PLAY WITH HIS SOFT CURLY HAIR WHILE HE'S SLEEPING ON MY LAP AJAKSAKJSALSA- anyway yeah HE LOOKS SUPER FLUFFYYYYYYYYYYY

numberrrrrrrrr 3.

SOMEONE pls tell him to love himself as much as we/I do. ಥ﹏ಥ

numberrrrrrrr 4.

I FEEL LIKE THIS PIC IS SO ASJSJAGSHJAHSAJ, I wanna hug himmmmm ;﹏;

numberrrrrrrrr 5.

I think by now you can tell im in LOVE with bang chan's curly hair- ΦзΦ

I GUESS THATS ALL FOR NOWWWWWWWW CYA TMRW OR MAYBE FOR THE 10000TH TIME TODAYYYY MWAH ΦзΦΦзΦΦзΦ

oh wow ok ok lets go!!! yes omg 1: i remember when that dropped and iwas like PLS SIR EXCUSE ME I HAVE ABIAS (i was a fool) and i made it my background anyway because i was a cheater (im so sorry changbin) 2+3+5 PLEASE PLEASE i mISS his thick FLOOF so much im gonna steal all the bealch from jype so his hair can rest and GROW and become a giant fluff ball again!!!! 4 is just ahahaahahaaaaaaa him he that guy zfxgdfd

#drm.ask #hanniecheesecake #Dreamy's Chris love spam🐺🖤💙✨ #also pls feel free to come by whenever #im gonna answer ur other ask after my spam BUT pls know im not ignoring it!

[orphic-exe-archived]

(dream, nagito)

before we begin

only a small percentage of viewers are subscribed to the channel

so please consider hitting that button if you end up enjoying this battle

enough of the prattle

you and me in a 1v1

i dont see much challenge, but it still seems fun

it's no pet war, but ill beat you in one verse

and leave you like your dog: hit 'n speedrun

count em up, my WR w's are more plentiful than the wounds that you cut in your arm

you dont really set a high bar talkin bout your fine art

my avatar's drawn more consistent than your sprites are

you hopeless loner, glad you know your own worth

dont need to dig down to know this stepping stone's below dirt

i know you wanna get hinata, but your luck's not so grand

if you cant even boost the odds of you huntin your man

howd you not hit byakua's imposter even with the pounds that that dude sports? (george!)

guess this rapid fan is only catchin hands with transplants corpse (george!)

grab a bow and arrow for this ghost white barebones

you could grow a forrest with that bonemeal hair, bro

check all the careers im settin the stage for

while your lymphoma's set in the stage four!

what a grand display!

with all the wars you struggle to bear

im mere trash in the way when compared to the ultimate square

but when it comes to despair?

i have none left to spare

so make like that disc pair

give it up in this pair

i went through with one goal: exposing the traitor

while you got exposed exploiting the traitors

pursuing that dough, then toy with your players

tom's suicide note is your kinda paper

and paired with your stan audience?

ive inhaled gas less toxic

he labels himself spotless

but ive got it!

let me break it down:

not a perfect roster your team crafted (huh?)

ultimate imposter of Team Crafted (huh?)

then it met the same end cuz then schlatt won (huh?)

and turned l'manburg to l'manhunt!

and "normal"s the only way to describe your catalogue of bland songs

tell that plastic cg ragdoll

"it's best to keep the mask on"

oh, c'mon i thought you toted bombs

with just a glance at your chances, your fans went "no that's wrong!"

ironic clay lacks foundation with all the arguments he's built

and you're only blessed with fortune when it's from your parents will!

you started your wooden arc sailing on a ship

that explains why, on the microphone, you failed to land a hit

you're numb as it gets; your luck must've gun to your head

but you're only firing blanks like it's russian roulette!

your franchise took the stage, and it ignited some flames

but ill be snuffin you all out like a fire grenade

call my fans creepy, stanning every student around

but your only friends now are like george, not found!

your hopes are shining through, but it's just a matter of time

'fore the net treats you like tommy and wilbur:

"it's banishing time" (monokuma says this bit)

you couldn't kill tracks, but you still lack a clean record

congrats, youre not the blackened!

so what's your excuse for the n-word?

every time drama comes up

you dont respond and let it be!

all you can speedrun from

is your responsibility!

luck's an awful talent

but you don't even share it

you're gaming's worst cheater on the scene since pro jared!

so here's my statement:

how fitting that dream's your name

as you're to be quickly forgotten once your crowd of teens awaken

your hopes for world renown and loving fans got to see the day, but

we all know the dark path your DreamWasTaken.

that’s pretty impressive that you memorized all that ngl

if you want an essay of useless information about the mystery flesh pit national park, the mandela catalogue, or the hit roblox horror game doors, i’m your guy 😔

#boyfriend tag 💖

[st-rx]

I wrote some gay diary entry type shit for my V Vivek, based on the Suicide ending. Vivek thankfully isn't dying terminally from Johnny being in his brain, but he sure is full of mental illness. Either way, not expecting anyone to read it! But thought I'd share my 2am thoughts (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

It's been a month.

Just at the height of my career, business booming - I mean everyone in the afterlife knew my name. Vivek Valvano. That's me, the guy who gets shit done... Yeah well. I decided to sit my ass down on a roof and hold a gun to my fuckin skull.

I didn't pussy out, no, I was ready to pull that trigger, end it. Let there be some fucking silence for once. Holo was always buzzin, ears ringin, fixers n corpos needing their dirty work done for em- it didn't shut up. But uh Kerry... He found me, kicked down that door, ripped the gun from my hands. He was more than a little upset- furious, he was fucking furious. Y'know, shit like.

"what the fucking fuck are you thinkin' V?!"

"you're just so fuckin okay to leave me? Everyone? Behind, you fuckin coward. Do it. I mean you've clearly made up your fucking mind. Such a fucking waste V"

Classic, amiright.

He hasn't called me since, I guess neither have I but. Ker 's right. I am a fuckin coward, couldn't even pick the gun back up after he stormed off, telling me to "go fuck myself" and that I'm a "selfish piece of gutter trash, that didn't stop to think about the man he aparently loves." ouch, but I guess that was warranted.

Anyway... Think I might grow some balls and visit soon, I miss 'im.

- V

#cp77 v rp #cyberpunk oc #cyberpunk 2077 v #Vivek Valvano #vivek x kerry #v x kerry #suicide mention #angst #theyre going through a break up phase #i wuv them with my whole being

[yanderepunk]

tw: death! and vomit!! if theres anything else i should tag let me know!! do enjoy. im rlly hoping this is comprehensive, i hurriedly wrote it at 5am. imagine hr fav ig🤨

he took ur hand. he picked u up off the ground. he was staring deeply into ur eyes, his face dumbfounded with love.

"im in love with u" he whispered.

you didnt give him a reaction. you stared blankly.

"its ok. u dont need to love me just yet!! ill teach u to love me, 'kay?" he said.

he carried u home that night.

"wut would u like to eat t'night" he asked from the kitchen.

u still dont give him the satisfaction of an answer.

"fine, go without food t'night"

morning comes and when he wakes up hes happy to be greeted with ur presence.

"ive always dreamt of this yknow, waking up next to my lover..." he says with a dreamy sigh.

"i do wish u would actually talk to me though."

u just stare.

he lets out a sharp inhale from his nose. "ull grow used to me i promise. we just both have to be patient."

days go by and he thinks ur growing used to ur new living conditions.

"i dont think uve showered since uve got here" he says during movie night.

"no offense but i think its about time u take a bath. u smell rancid."

he carries u to the bathroom and starts getting a bath ready. while the water is filling he removes ur clothes. he gets u in and out of the bath quickly so u two can continue the movie.

"ive been thinking of introducing u to my friend" he tells u. "ill invite him over tomorrow 'kay?" he looks at u happily, "thisll be great"

the day comes. the house is clean, hes got food cooking in the oven, ur in a beautiful dress. things couldnt be more perfect. theres a knock on the door. he looks at u excitedly, "ill get it" he says quickly.

his friend is outside with a bottle of wine when he opens the door.

"come in!" ur partner tells his friend with a huge smile.

"im glad to know u finally found someone! i was startin to think ud die alone." his friend said laughing. his face twisted as soon as he walked in. he knew his friend couldnt cook but that smell was just terrible.

"u should of left the cooking up to ur partner jeez" he says with furrowed brows, "guess we'll have takeout t'night" he adds on.

"hey wheres ur little lover i wanna meet 'em" he says looking around.

"over here" ur boyfriend points to the bedroom. ur sat in a chair. ur lovely dress and hair complimenting ur looks.

his friends face drops along with the bottle of wine he hadnt set down yet. "w-what"

"go say hi!!" his friend nudges him.

"th-this is a joke right?"

"what?"

his friend walks to u. the stench grows more. ur vacant eyes stare at nothing. he could feel the cold radiating off of ur motionless body. he vomits.

#yandere #yandere haikyuu #yandere bnha #yandere x reader #yandere aot #yandere jjk #yandere genshin impact #yanderecore

[philtstone]

For the touches meme: MCU ship of your choice with#8 :)

#8 -- shielding someone with their body

u can also read this on ao3 <3 to say "this prompt got away from me" would be an understatement and yet i still have the temerity to follow it up with "and there might be a part two!" lord. anyway, apologies to kaadhu because she doesn't go here at all but also she did give me the green light to be self-indulgent with this one, so.

the "Jonah Day" was inspired by a scene from Abraxas's phenomenal fic series "Just Two Guys" which was in turn quoting Anne of Green Gables. naturally i had to give it my own little spin. the fic concept itself was inspired by "Jazz Standards Vol 3" by sixes_and_sevens and "In the Woods Somewhere" by @rebellconquerer, both of whom are brilliant authors whose versions of these characters are inspiring in how much they are rich and full of feeling and complexity. i wanted to try my hand at the idea without there being an associated plot arc. hopefully i did it justice bc ive been working on this for a week and i have other Responsibilities so if i dont post it now and be at peace with its imperfections ill never get anything else done. this fic is part of this series and while technically a stand alone i guess the emotional beats of it are very much tied into their previous growing. i wanted to show that they have a process for working through things but that it's inevitably still evolving.

anyway. with that out of the way -- enjoy! (or if you're kaadhu, hopefully i can make it up to u with the star wars prompts im gonna work on next)

It’s one of those days. 

It’s like everyone woke on the wrong side of some bed, and the world has not thought to slow down and accommodate them, and the headaches Sarah has started getting every few weeks, which she refuses to call pre-migraines, have settled at the back of her skull. 

Also, it is raining. Badly.

Cassius used to call ‘em Jonah Days. Only person had it worse in the world, he’d say, was probably Jonah and his whale.

Sarah does not have a whale, but she does have that headache, and has spent all day tracking down a mistake on a license she ordered three weeks ago and trying to make up for the work she missed last week when AJ had the stomach flu and had to spend an afternoon at the hospital. It had just been her at home; Rhodes had called on Sam’s behalf, and Bucky had had to fly out on short notice, something half classified with a tension undercutting it that left Sarah’s tongue feeling dry. He got back in yesterday. Yesterday was not as much of a misery as today but still dragged itself out, and was prolonged enough that they only had time for a brief kiss hello and the curt acknowledgement that Sam was alright. Whatever had happened, Bucky was not happy about it. She’d noticed, of course. His face was drawn, and everything he said came out like the second half was being held as a careful package at the back of his throat. Sarah, distracted by life, had not thought about it too hard. On the rare occasion the rarer mission (getting rarer still) is genuinely awful, she has realized he’ll always find a way to call her. Sometimes, as a reassurance for her. Other times, for his own sanity. Once he called barely three hours after he left, like by some prescient intuition he knew she’d be sitting at the kitchen table on the verge of a panic (another one of those Days). Another time, in the middle of the dairy aisle at Wal-Mart, she picked up the phone to him crying. 

Nothing like that happened this time. He’d said I’m fine, quietly, into her temple, and Sarah had been too tired to try to coax anything else out of him, so she let it be. 

When she gets home, today – The Jonah Day – stomping into the kitchen with as much purpose as she can muster, Bucky is sitting at the kitchen table, something pale and unkempt about his face, and nursing an empty mug of tea. 

She knows it’s tea because of the glittery little tag that’s hanging from the edge of the mug. In truth this should be her first red flag: there’s only one kind of tea he drinks, and a rare handful of occasions he drinks it on. She’s never had a great love for honeybush, but the stuff Ayo’s wife Aneka sends is nice-smelling and strong enough to be medicinal. Sarah’s not in any mood to be catching flags today, red or otherwise. She shuffles in and wonders where they’ve put the ibuprofen and nearly steps on the cat, who scratches her foot in her yowly attempt to get away from Sarah’s sandal.

“Shit –” Her elbow slams into the cabinet as she startles – “Argh! Out of the kitchen, Alpine – Cass! What’d I tell you about getting these dishes done after school? Do I look like a dishwashing service to you?”

That had been the deal. There is an abstract part of her that knows Cass is working on a science project and an even more abstract part of her that knows that, in the regular routine that’s emerged, Bucky would have reminded him. 

Clearly he has not. Sarah is too tired to process why that might be. Maybe he forgot. She doesn’t think he got much sleep last night, which isn’t exactly uncommon. She remembers waking up to an empty bed and a rumpled sleeping bag on the bedroom floor. She’d nearly tripped over that, too.

Could be that’s what got the whole day going.

“Can you get Cass?” Sarah asks, only half-looking at Bucky. She walks through the remainder of the kitchen and peers into the coffee pot to see if there are any dregs left from the morning. The rainstorm outside seems to have turned into a thunderstorm; Sarah can hear its low rumblings. Are there leftovers in the fridge? No. And no one has bothered to think of dinner, either. She swallows back the urge to curse on her next prolonged inhale, the delay in reply rubbing her already edgy nerves wrong for no reason. “Bucky.”

“Hm? Oh.” In a side glance, she can see him shift his elbows on the table, rub at his eyes and nod. “Yeah, um. Yeah, I’ll get him. Let me put this in the sink.”

Another rumble. If the power goes out she thinks she might scream.

Speaking of the sink: she tosses the thermoses the boys left on the kitchen counter into it with a dull clang and wonders if she has time to take a shower. It doesn’t occur to her that maybe she will feel better if she takes a moment to breathe and perhaps ask Bucky for a hug – Sarah’s habits of self-reliance started well before her first marriage, even – but anyway, she feels disgusting. She smells like sweat and fish and she wants to sleep for ten years and cry at once. She’s worried if he gets too close she’ll cringe, or snap, or something foolish. Still. He has to enter her space to rinse the mug out. She tries not to look at him lest the crying overtake her and attempts to source a granola bar to maybe take the edge off her headache. 

Overloud footsteps thunder abruptly down the stairs. Suddenly, Cass is barreling in, an overdue apology loud on his tongue. This happens a half second before his hip knocks into one of the kitchen chairs, which drags, scrapes loudly, and pinches an unassuming Alpine’s tail between its leg and the table’s. 

Alpine shrieks.

“CASS!” Sarah yells, forgetting herself. 

“I’m sorry!” yelps Cass immediately, wide-eyed and penitent. 

“It was an accident,” Bucky says quickly. He’s straightened beside her, and his voice has something strained under the placating instinct, “it’ll be fine –” 

One free hand comes up in front of him in a gesture she knows very well. “For the love of God!” Sarah yells. “No, it was not! I have told you a million times, Cassius Wilson –” Bucky’s hand is too close to her. She grabs it, to bat it away, shove it back towards him. Alpine is still yowling holy vengeance. Cass is apologizing more loudly now, and she does not notice Bucky’s shoulders tensing, and her hand connects with his a split second before the rumbling beginnings of thunder turn into a full blown clap outside.

With the piercing pop of breaking ceramic the mug in his hand explodes, spraying its pieces all over the floor. Sarah’s mouth lets out a startled little cry and she does not realize why that is until she looks down, heart in her throat, and realizes his other hand has shot out and grabbed her wrist.

A reflex, probably. Her tendons are pinching but Sarah knows this kind of thing can spook anyone on a good day. And she’d been yelling so loudly, right in his ear.

“Sorry!” says Cass again, reedy with the fright he gave himself, the suddenness, the mundane violence of a cup breaking and the spring storm. His voice is thinned out with the upshooting squeak of pre-teen concern and in a moment Sarah’s anger fizzles. She can hear the rain lashing at the windows. 

“It’s alright,” she says, parroting Bucky’s earlier words, “it’s just a mug.” 

Bucky is still holding her wrist. The angle is awkward – Sarah is too close to him and too far away from him at once and her forearm is bent low, towards the kitchen counter. The metal pads of his fingers dig into her bones, pushing them together, and when she comes to gently tug away, she can’t move it an inch. “Ow,” comes out of her mouth, muttered and mostly surprised, before she can stop it.

“Alpine!” she hears Cass say. “No, you have to get on the table or your feet’ll get hurt –”

Poor Alpine has not had a moment of peace since Sarah entered the kitchen. She’s never loved thunderstorms and beyond her own pinched tail and trodden foot the tiny cat is tense and staring at Bucky and Sarah with wide, alert, too-knowing eyes. Sarah cannot process this. She is looking at Bucky’s face. Every line of his body is iron hewn, pupils large and dilated, lips too red and parted where he is breathing heavily. He’s staring at the floor, and the broken ceramic, but there suddenly isn’t a doubt in Sarah’s mind that he isn’t seeing jack shit.

“B,�� she tries. “You okay?”

Nothing. His grip on her arm is so tight that she’s started to feel it in her elbow. She can see blood trickling down his right hand thumb where she realizes the broken ceramic cut into his palm; he didn’t startle and drop it, then.

“Mom?” Cass has noticed them. “Uncle Bucky?”

“James,” Sarah says, as steadily as she can. “Let go, please.” 

She bites her tongue just before the rest of the sentence comes out; she would not, in a million years, in any lifetime, say You’re hurting me when Cass is still in the room. 

“What’s wrong with him?” 

“We all just had a fright,” Sarah says, trying to subtly shift her shoulder. “Cass, put your running shoes on. Then go to the supply closet upstairs and grab the hand vacuum and dustpan.”

“But –” 

“Tell AJ not to come down ‘til we’ve cleaned the broke mug. We don’t get it clean soon Alpine might hurt herself.”

This is motivation enough to manage him. She thinks for Cass this must still be one of those momentary incursions of chaos into routine that are sprinkled throughout her own childhood. She watches her son nod rapidly out of the corner of her eye, and then he scrambles away and back up the stairs.

“James,” Sarah says, once he is out of earshot. “I need you to hear me. We’re in the kitchen. You broke a mug by accident. There’s a rainstorm outside. Please let go, you’re hurting my arm.”

He is not entirely frozen because she can see the minute trembles in his chest and chin and bloodied right hand. It’s not a lot, but it’s started dripping onto the floor. 

“James. Bucky!” 

The pressure on her wrist is starting to edge past uncomfortable and into a territory Sarah doesn’t want to think about. She doesn’t think he’s squeezing any harder, only the shock has started to fade, and she is really feeling it now. It might even bruise. Not badly – Sarah knows her own body well enough to guess – but enough that the idea makes her sick to her stomach. She can see the dull brown of the last drops of tea from the mug, splattered onto the pale grey of his indoor t-shirt. Those will stain for sure, she thinks. Her head pounds. Her brain feels like scrambled eggs. A tiny shard of ceramic bites into her pinky toe, between her sandal straps, and she can hear AJ’s inquiring voice from upstairs, asking loudly what happened. Knowing her children he will be down in a moment and heedless of any possible danger, broken mug related or otherwise. 

“Baby,” she says, “forgive me.”

She reaches forward with her free hand and fits her thumb and forefinger into the groove beneath where his rotator cuff should be. Sarah presses as hard as she can. Like a flipped switch the grip on her hand releases and Sarah has to bite back another curse when the frozen deadweight of the vibranium prosthetic freefalls and crashes directly onto the ground, just barely missing her shin. 

She is not in any place to understand what the effect must be outside of a shock, but immediately Bucky makes a strangled noise of surprise and slumps back against her cluttered kitchen counter with the imbalanced movements of some leggy baby animal. 

Only, for perhaps the first time, Sarah is acutely aware of how large he is, how ungainly and imposing all that muscle can be. 

“Be careful, the mug –!” she hears herself yell anyway, entirely instinct. 

“The mug,” Bucky repeats, slurred, blinking. His right hand reaches up to scrabble at the thin air to his left. She can see the fumbling movement of his wrist, the way his body leans. His eyes meet hers, wide and startled and questioning. He’s seeing her. She didn’t think it would make such a difference, but she nearly cries. The sound crawls up her esophagus but does not quite make it out.

“Sarah?” he asks, voice small.

Jesus Lord, Sarah thinks. The whole thing happened so fast – nothing long or drawn out about it. Hell, she could pretend it didn’t happen at all. He stares at her, and then the shattered mug on the floor, and then his arm, deadened and inert. Finally his eyes land on her wrist, which she has cradled instinctively in her other hand, and is rubbing. Dread floods into his expression. 

“It’s alright,” Sarah says, “It’s fine, you got spooked, we’ll just –”

She tries to reach for him, working both with and against her own instincts.  

“No,” he chokes. 

She can see him beginning to tremble.

“James –”

“No!” The sheer panic in his voice does not help her own at all, “Stay – wait, don’t, please –” He pulls away from her and his foot nudges one of the larger mug pieces with a loud scraping clink. Between this and his sudden movement Sarah flinches. 

For a long moment, Bucky gapes at her.

Then, slowly, he sinks down to the floor. The tremble in his body becomes more visible. His remaining arm comes up to wrap around the crown of his head, half-covering his face. His knees are pulled up to his chest, like he is trying to make himself as small as possible in front of her. You’re gonna get ceramic in your jeans, Sarah wants to say. The wreckage of the mug spreads out around him.

“Mom?” calls Cass’s voice from the stairs, followed by footsteps. “We got the vacuum! Should I –”

“Stay outside the kitchen, Cass.” It’s immediate – hoarse-voiced but louder and firmer than Sarah thought him capable of right now. His face is still covered. “Too many small pieces on the floor, I’ll clean it up myself. You too, AJ.”

Their footsteps stall. “Okay!” she hears. Sarah sways in place. 

“Sarah,” he says, into his single arm. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Oh, God.”

It’s alright, Sarah wants to say. She managed it earlier, didn’t she? Her wrist is more or less fine now. Maybe a bit tender, but nothing that couldn’t have happened a million other ways.

The words don’t come out. Instead, to her horror, a small sound like a sob does. 

It’s alright, she urges herself. Just say it.

“I love you,” is what she says instead. She leaves the kitchen to fetch the dustpan. It’s only once she’s hit the laundry room and locked the door behind her that she lets herself begin to cry.

**

By bedtime, Sarah’s wrist is properly tender. The kitchen has long since been cleaned. In between her stint in the laundry and AJ’s innocent declaration that she needed a shower, Bucky went ahead and ordered them pizza for dinner, so that was one more thing she didn’t have to think about too. No one put the boys to bed properly but when she checked in they had managed alright themselves. When she enters the bedroom the storm outside has dulled to a simple drizzle and her chest floods with relief. He’s there. And not in the sleeping bag, either. He’s on their bed, curled up to face the wall, and his face is pale. 

Sarah ignores her bathroom routine and crawls onto the bed beside him. He hasn’t re-attached his arm. She saw it in the den, earlier, tucked away behind the cushions on the daybed he used to use.

She takes a deep breath. She’s spent most of the evening trying to detangle between her residual emotions from the Jonah Day and the very real thing that happened downstairs. She sat in the tub for twenty minutes thinking about what words she wanted to use. 

Bucky beats her to it.

“Has it,” he starts, sounding miserable. “Your -- your arm.”

Sarah doesn’t want to lie. “It’s ...”

“Jesus,” he whispers, this awful undertone of disgust weighing it down into the bed.

“I was going to say it probably won’t even bruise.”

Bucky doesn’t reply. She wonders if he hasn’t reached out to check the wrist himself because he’s scared of himself, or if he’s scared she will be.

“I’m sorry for not being more careful earlier,” Sarah says after a long moment, looking at her toes. They’re in desperate need of a pedicure. “For – yelling. Being rough. I should have been more aware of my surroundings.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she hears, delivered into the bedspread. 

They have two spreads on this bed. One Sarah has had for always – it’s quilted, with small squares of yellow and blue, and small stitched flowers that Sarah’s grandmother said were meant to bring a sense of safety into a bedroom. The other is red – burgundy pattern bursts, even a bit of purple. The material is thicker-woven and heavier and very new, and bought after much careful consideration (and her own encouragement that he get something he liked) from one of Bucky’s favourite vendors a few months ago. She knows it is called a kitenge and loves that it is on her bed.

“B,” Sarah says finally. “If I’m an adult I’m responsible for how I behave when I know certain things about others. You have to –” she fists her hands into the sheets, searches for the right thing beneath the tension in her throat, “respect that. Respect me by acknowledging that.”

There’s a long moment of quiet. 

“Thank you for apologizing,” Bucky says softly. Then, after another long pause, “I’m sorry for not telling you how – how bad I was feeling. And for scaring you after. And for ... fuck. Sarah. I’m so sorry.”

Sarah swallows around her dry tongue.

“I know. You still feeling rough?”

“A little. My head got really loud and I couldn’t stop it.”

“Because of last week’s thing.”

Sarah doesn’t like calling them missions. Sam says she doesn’t want to give ‘em the dignity of a proper name lest they end up having power over her life.

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” 

“Did you call –”

She can’t see his face but she can perfectly imagine the way his eyes scrunch shut on a frown. “Didn’t realize it was bad until it was … bad. Thought I could work through it yesterday. With – routines.”

“The tea,” Sarah realizes. Simultaneously she feels heartbreak and a keen sense of frustration. She should have noticed, she thinks. Then again, the plain reality is that she will have her own bad days, and she is only human. Also, she very much knows the desire to prove you haven’t mistaken your newfound ability to control. Still, still, still – 

“Just, since then,” she starts.

“I called Dr. Naimi while you were in the shower,” he says quietly. 

It’s been about a month with her, so Sarah would have been ready to understand if he didn’t at all. Just barely, but ready. Sarah likes Dr. Naimi and Dr. Naimi likes Sarah. Trauma specialist is an added perk of her proximity to them, and Sarah’s cheerful memories of LSU.

Sarah lets out a long exhale through her mouth. She can see his right hand where it’s curled up by his stomach. He’s put bandaids over the cuts from the ceramic. She knows he doesn’t need them – those cuts would’ve self-sealed within fifteen minutes – so she is left wondering if the decision was made for the boys’ sake, or maybe hers, or even his own. Easy not to think about something if the evidence is covered up and away. Sarah rubs at her eyes, which are dry and gritty from her earlier cry.

In a sense she’s stalling the instinct to reach out to him because the back of her brain is still working through the newer, more temporary instinct that’s appeared. But she does need to change. Bucky is already in his sleep clothes, faded grey sweatpants that he’s wearing holes into and that garishly orange t-shirt memorializing Cass’s first grade Lion King play. Sarah leaves the bed. She brushes her teeth, wraps up her hair, wipes her face. She comes back into the bedroom and shimmies out of her jeans, then bypasses her usual tank top for the navy blue t-shirt folded neatly at the top of his drawer. The shoulders hit halfway down her biceps. She crawls back onto the bed, in front of him this time.

Bucky’s still wide awake.

“You gonna stay awake all night?” she asks.

“No.”

“Promise?”

She watches him touch his tongue to his bottom lip, which is looking raw, like he’s been doing that all night. He trembles on the inhale. “I’m better,” he repeats. “I’ll do some – um, those exercises before bed. Forgot to do ‘em last night, I was real tired I guess.”

This bedroom’s good for those – it’s got so much stuff in it, and sentimental stuff too, he can go through picking out things he can see and what they’re made of and how they feel to touch and lull himself to sleep like that. Sometimes he does it teasingly and lists what she is wearing while he takes it off. 

His eyes have cast down, a very deliberate avoidance of hers. Swallowing against her own mind she scootches forward and lies down in front of him. Then she pulls at his shoulder – firm, but with gentle hands. 

“Sarah,” muffled, into the pillow.

“Need you to hold me.”

“You don’t have to –”

“For me. For me, James.”

He relents, balancing on the ball of his empty shoulder, and smoothes his free hand over her arm and around her back to pull her towards him. His fingers, which are so familiar to her by now, splay open between her shoulder blades. They don't tremble, but they’re very careful. Sarah has to work hard not to notice. Still, he ends up half covering her. She lets her tender wrist lay gingerly against her collarbone in the hollow between their chests and breathes in and out in long steadying breaths. Where their bodies touch (at her hip, her cheek, where his shoulder digs into her breast) the pressure is just minutely too much but enough for Sarah’s purposes. She winds one arm around him, tangles their legs together, closes her eyes, and wills herself through her pounding heart to re-memorize the feeling: the deep-seated thing within herself that’s come to associate his body touching hers with safety and security. 

Sarah doesn’t newly believe herself a fool. Reality coexists with her convictions and they’ll just have to work their way through it. The blankets beneath them are contrasting in their fabrics and soft against the bare skin of Sarah’s neck. 

“I love you,” Bucky whispers. It’s said in the same way she said it earlier. Sarah nods, and holds him tighter.

#touches prompt meme #marvel #sarahbucky #sarah wilson #bucky barnes #fatws #sarah and bucky #tfatws #fleur de louve #sarah x bucky #my writing #lord this got long #and the new tumblr ask formating ... bad #ALMOST 1 FULL YEAR BABY

[kashimos-hajime]

no regrets (8/8) | r.b.

summary: For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Or, Reiner finally understands what peace is.

WARNINGS: MANGA SPOILERS!!! angst, mentions of violence, we get our happy ending :) pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 6.7k

a/n: welcome to the last chapter!! thank you so much for being on this journey with me. there are a few callbacks to previous chapters so see if you can catch ‘em all heheh 

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

Few months ago ymir asked if I could let her write one last letter to krista, and I did let her. I stood over her shoulder the whole time, watching her pen down all this sappy shit and I kept thinking about you the whole time, behind those walls. What you were doing, what you were thinking. Maybe if you thought about me. I dont know.

I’m starting to see the appeal of wrting what youre not strong enough to say to a persons face. I never thought Id find myself on the other end of this stick. for some reason, I thought that I could stop myself, resist the temptation, or maybe that I didnt feel for you as strong as I thought I did once I was away from you. I was wrong.

What do I even say? I mean shit, I can barely see, my limbs are barely in tact, and all of it—shiganshina, it haunts me, even though I cant really remember it that well. Half of it goes black and then I remember hearing your voice, I remember Bertholdt, I remember you screaming.

You couldve walked away. why didnt you walk away? It doesn’t make sens. Why did you think to cut me out? Why did you try to save me? Im trying to make it make sense inmy head. It’s not working.

Fuck I dont know what I was thinking when I asked for a paper and pen. Why am I asking you questions? Its not like ill ever understand. At this point, I think it’s pity thats letting Zeke let me waste ink on trying to write straight. He doesn’t know what im doing, but thats better this way. Better than sleeping—better than eating. I just wanna talk to you and this is as close as I can get. Its my own damn fault, but I dont care. 

I completed my mission. After this, im done. ill give up the rest of my term. I dont want any of that glory anymore. I dont want to be a hero. Im just done.

Fuck, my head hurts so much. I dont really know if what im saying is making sense. Im hoping you never read this.

im sorry. I wish I could explain it to you some day, but chances are, ill be dead soon. Whether for treason or because they need to pass on the Titan, and I wont be able to see you again. Which means youll never know how sorry I am. How much I

Thats okay. I dont think youd believe me now even if I did say anything.

I remember your dream to live by the lake with a bunch of kids. You know I started to wonder if youd mind if they were our kids, not just some orphans who needed a home. I’d imagine one of them with blond hair. Imagine them swimming in the lake.

Never told you that was my dream too. Never knew i could have a dream of my own, something only I wanted and not just something to further marleys damn agenda, til I knew you. Sounds stupid but its true.

I think youd like Marley, if we weren’t sworn enemies. Just want you here with me right now. make me sleep easier knowing you’re there when I wake up. 

Dont want secrets either. Fuck I miss you so bad. I feel s o tired all the time. 

I rember when i first saw you all could think about was how you were the most prettiest girl id ever seen. I don know if you know thats why I tried to distance myself. Knew I couldn’t get distracted from my mison. happened anyway. Wish I could tell you that. 

wish I could tell you I love you. Wish I could see the look on yur face when you try lobster for the first time. Youd love it. Not sweet, but tons of desserts here too.

Shit. And the ring on your finger. ill put a ring on your finger. I promised. i swear ill go home and buy a ring for the moment I see you again. Might not be pretty but will do the best I can.

Olnly wnat only wnat only want to see you again and beg for your forgiveness. Let you know if I had a choice, I wouldnt have done it. Would take it all back, nd stay. i wanted to stay, stay with you and the others. I used to want to spend the rest of my life in those walls, now I think im sick and tired of them dividing people who arent even that differnet.

My eyes are beginning to burn. Worse because the skin is sitll growing back. Fucking hell god I miss you. miss your smile more.

I know i dont deserve your forigvneess forgiveness. I want you to be angry with me. I deserve as much, and I cant ask you to, but 

With love,

Rienr

You fold the letter, eyes closing as your fingers trace where the ink bled, the old tear stains wrinkling the paper beyond measure. Some are older than others, and you trace over his name again, your eyes burning, your throat tight enough to suffocate.

You’re leaning against the wall as everyone disembarks. They had taken Eren off first, Hange and the others getting ready to depart for the city while Connie and Jean lift a covered stretcher too white for the vivacious girl that lays dead beneath it.

They pass you silently, and you catch sight of a certain captain approaching, his pale eyes nearly swallowed by the shadows haunting his face.

“Captain,” you say, straightening. Placing the letter back into the tin, you slide it back into your pocket as he folds a green jacket over his shoulder. You give him a nod.

“You made it out alive,” Levi observes. He stops beside you, eyes more focused on what’s ahead. No doubt he’s not looking forward to having to take Zeke to wherever he needs to go—somewhere far, far away from Eren. You cross your arms. 

“It’s good to see you, too, Levi,” you intone. Sighing, you step in beside him and look out at the Walls you can’t see in the distance, your entire body wrought with a strange fatigue that’s only sewn into muscles by adrenaline leaving the body. “I think I’m going to stay.” He tilts his head to you, eyes flickering to your face, and you mirror the shift, your arms tightening. “I can’t leave this unfinished. Not after Liberio.”

“The farm will have to be abandoned,” he points out. “The kids, too.”

“I’ll make sure I move them where someone can take care of them. Somewhere north, far away from the brothers,” you assure, although still, your heart begins to sink and you close your eyes, exhaling deeply. “I have to hope they understand.”

Levi only nods, and you open your eyes as he wordlessly takes the jacket off his arm and offers it to you. Grasping it wearily, you open your mouth to ask questions but he only sets off, back towards the cabin where Zeke is still being held, and you snap your jaws shut, looking down at the jacket.

When you unfold it, you swallow the hard rock in your throat at the blue and white slipping beween the folds of olive green before there’s a sharp whistle. Looking up, you see the carriages already beginning to load up, and you glance back at the door where the captain has disappeared through before jogging down the ramp.

You slither your arms through the sleeves and shuffle the fabric along your frame as something thumps against your thigh, and you frown, reaching down into your pocket and coming into contact with something smooth and hard.

Withdrawing, your lips part at the green bolo tie gleaming in the lights of the port and you, without another thought, pull it over your head, letting it fall against your breastbone. 

“For your services to the Survey Corps.”

There’s no time to second-guess now. No time to debate.

“Good to have you back,” Hange murmurs as you walk towards the carriage taking Mikasa, Armin, and the others back to the city. You tug the lapels of the jacket tighter around yourself and flash them a weak smile. 

The Wings of Freedom on your arm feel like a brand, and it prickles your skin as you climb in after them.

.

Distantly, he remembers flashes. 

Eren reaching forward for Zeke, the exhaustion ripping him every which way, the sound of ODM gear whizzing in his ears as he tries to make sense of the punctured sensation in his armour.

How he had softened his nape, intending to die then. At least, let his death have some meaning, he had thought. Let him make one last effort to repent for everything he did to Paradis, and to his friends who’d been more family than his own mother.

He slips in an out of consciousness for the next few days. He doesn’t know what is up, what is down, but he does recognize his surroundings blearily, the way his head spinning somehow slowing when he presses his temple to the wooden floor.

How can he almost hear your voice in the echoes of the panels, countered by someone who almost sounds like Annie before he drifts off again.

When Reiner finally regains consciousness again, he wakes to someone crouched down in front of him. Jerking up, he lets out a sound before a palm slaps over his mouth and your face is shoved against his own.

“Shut it,” you whisper fiercely. “It’s just me.”

Your name muffled by your own hand, his eyes begin to burn and you lift your palm away as he sits up and you draw back. You’re dressed in clothes that look like they’ve seen better days but you’re relatively uninjured as you pull back. New lines adorn your face—one of the many prices of their damned war—and you only look exhausted. 

Sitting up, Reiner’s whole body groans as he leans against the wall, but he can’t tear his eyes away from you. Your hands are hovering around his body like you’re scared he’ll collapse and there’s a fracture in your mask.

Something gleams on your finger and his eyes flit to it, his heart lurching when he realizes what it is.

The ring. You’re wearing it. You…

For a moment, a glimmer of their teenage selves shine through and he wants to reach for it—touch it so he can remember what it’s like to be happy. He thinks it’s an awful like now; the swelling of his heart so big he can’t breathe; the way his lungs are static in his chest; how he can’t say anything because there are so many words that want to come out first.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” he finally settles on raspily. Your eyes glint with a youthful pain as you nod.

“So are you.” 

And he doesn’t know who moves first—you or him. Nothing is forgiven as their bodies crash in an embrace that lacks grace, but they cling onto another like the world is ending and they’re the only ones left standing. 

Maybe they are.

He buries his face in your neck, and your arms are so tight around him your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body melts against his and his skeleton sags in his own body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, eyes fluttering shut. “I‘m sorry.” A hand against your neck and an arm around your waist, he wraps his legs around your own and traps you against him. You seem to only sink into him even more.

Is that enough? I don’t want you to hate me.

You suck in a breath, and then it comes out shuddering. “You can spend the rest of what life you have left repenting for making me fall in love with a man who was always supposed to die.”

Softly, in his mind, your voice cools the searing heat of hatred inside him. It’s enough. It has to be.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. It’s like they’re the only words he knows. He can’t remember ever meaning it this much. For him dying, for making you love him, for ever coming to Paradis. For loving you. For loving you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I know.” Your face turns to press against his own. Your lips brush against his jaw and his eyes slide shut, tears rolling down his face. “I read every single one of your letters.” Drawing back, you cup his face in his hands and your fingers smear his tears all over his cheeks as his palm rests against your neck. Thumb stretching up to touch your chin, he feels sobs shuddering in his throat at seeing you again—looking at him almost like you used to. “I can’t begin to understand, but I know you are. And I know you love me.”

Choking, he gasps, “You should hate me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” You’re crying, too, voice thick, tears stubborn on your cheeks as you give him a watery smile. “I should hate Marley, too. But it’s beautiful there. The water by the sea… I want to be there with you next time. We need to go together, before you leave me alone, okay?”

Reiner doesn’t quite hear you. He hears Marley, and beautiful, and he’s never noticed how beautiful you are when you cry, but right now, it’s the simplest truth he knows. 

“Okay.”

When you tilt his chin up and kiss him softly, something inside him explodes from the gentleness that makes him want to crack in the palm of your hands. It sears him from the inside out, makes him grab onto you like you’ll disappear—this is another dream, isn’t it? 

It has to be. 

You can’t be kissing him again after four years. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re an illusion, something his mind made up to deal with the pain. He’s finally cracked for good, just like Bertholdt said he would, and he’s the devil, not you.

But then you pull away just for a moment to smile, eyes barely open as you look at him with a sad tenderness that wraps him in an invisible embrace, and he is faced with the heart-wrenching reality. 

The sky is falling, you are holding him tightly again, and they’ve lost their years. But you’re here. With him. 

He knows that this isn’t a dream as he feels the coolness of the silver band on your finger and the heaviness in how he knows he hasn’t repented a damn thing. 

Why him?

As you run your hand through his hair, you press their foreheads together.

“And I do want a family with you, by the water if you’d like,” you murmur fleetingly against his mouth and his eyes widen, cheeks burning, entire face crumbling as he turns his face in to your shoulder, crushing you in another brace. Sobbing into your neck, his fingers dig into your shoulders, wrap tight around your waist, squeeze you so close he isn’t sure where you end and he begins and your lips brush the shell of his ear. “Reiner, say it.”

“Please,” he whispers thickly into your skin, and you cradle the back of his head with a hand. He’s nothing more than shambles. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” you promise. His breath is hot against his own face as you pull his head back and cradle his face again, thumbs brushing away the tears from his red face. “Just a bit more. A bit more and then it’ll be all over, you know?”

And he understands, then, what you want from him. Struggling for breath, for his lungs to stop seizing in his aching chest, he cups your face that turns into his palm on instinct, your face wet with your own tears as, for a moment, they try to pretend this isn’t where they really are.

Like they’re still in that afternoon in Trost, a thousand years ago, with the kids flipping coins into the water fountain and a cream bun between them. Like they’re under the tree, apple juice on your wrist and his lips on yours.

Like it’s those trips to the city, the walks on the Walls. Honey is dripping down your chin and he’s pretending he doesn’t want to kiss you, or there’s grease smeared on his forehead, and you’re reaching up to wipe it off his skin.

Like a thousand moments all at once, and he nods to himself as you brush your hand over his temple. The world outside is startlingly quiet, as if the universe itself stopped everything itself to watch this moment, and Reiner takes a breath that bruises his sternum before he’s holding your left hand where that ring still sits.

And slowly, he pulls it off, whispering as firmly as he can. He’s sure he fails—he’s shaking all over from your presence alone.

“When this is over, I’ll put that ring back on your finger. I promise.”

The smile that splits your face is dazzling. It’s the smile he’s missed since the day he left it.

“We have a lot of things to work out, Reiner Braun.”

And your fingers barely brush his jaw before you’re leaning to press a sweet kiss against his mouth. It’s sugary on his tongue, like honey and apple slices.

.

Your back is warmer when you’re pressed up against Reiner’s. The ship is quiet, and their pinkies are just barely hooked on oen another’s as you stare blankly at the empty space between Connie’s boots. You don’t speak, and Reiner’s gaze is only on you. He can’t look at anything else now that you’re back by his side again.

There’s a cut on your cheek from the fight just half an hour ago, and there’s dried blood along your hands where your knuckles had split open, but everyone seems too exhausted to clean themselves up. 

Reiner himself has a blanket pulled over his shoulders, and he sighs, slouching in his own sack of flesh.

Your head tilts towards him, enough that your temple presses against his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into your touch. Not a word passes by, but their hold on each other’s hands tightens. And Reiner thinks. 

For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Something that hasn’t burned since he left Marley as a child.

Reiner thinks he doesn’t want to die anymore. He doesn’t want to miss you for another moment.

.

Raising from the steam, you groan, your hands searing from the inside out as you touch your face where you swore every inch of your skin had been stretched, but nothing seems out of sorts as you glance around. Everywhere, all your friends who had turned just as you had are in various states of disoriented. The air is still hissing, crackled with surprised screams and shouts of names as people look for one another across the field. 

It smells like cooked meat and burnt hair, a none-to-pleasant mixture that turns your stomach.

Getting to your feet, you wipe at your face, trying to ignore the weird feeling underneath your nails and the ache seizing your muscles. Trying to ignore the remnants of Eren lingering like a ghost that won’t really leave you alone. You shiver, and a strange cold sweat takes over your body.

He had taken you to the sea, except it wasn’t the shore you were familiar with. There was a cabin nearby, with blonde children running, chasing after one another and a man with golden hair standing on the porch, firewood in his arms as he calls out silently. Or maybe you had been standing too far to hear.

“Eren… where are we?”

“Wherever you think you are,” he had said. “I just brought you where you wanted to be.”

A voice, quiet as a memory, catches your attention. “Here let me help.” A soft wind blows throw the mist, cooling your scorching face as you feel a presence stand behind you.

“Oh, thank you.” You look over your shoulder to see a tall boy, and your heart stops. Mouth dropping open, you stare at his foggy image, but he only smiles fully, a smile so tender it reaches every corner of you as you stumble forward, fingers stretching for him. “Bertholdt!”

His smile grows only that much more, eyes squinting a bit and a flash of teeth before he’s looking at your hand that passes through his chest. All at once, all the hope built up in your chest crumbles, and your hand snaps back, trembling just before him. He lays a hand over your own and your eyes begin to burn, tears slipping down your cheeks.

And then, softly, you barely whisper, “I miss you.”

Bertholdt’s smile merely grows, as if to say everything he couldn’t say before. As if to show he’s at peace now—that your last memory together isn’t every part of him, and your lips press together, trying to stop yourself from shaking.

 Shadows form in the fog, and together, the two look as a freckled boy and another girl steps out of the mist a distance away, beaming like the sun. Connie and Jean stagger to their feet just behind you, and your heart lurches into your throat when you recognize them.

“Marco! Sasha!”

Someone calls your name and you turn around just as arms scoop you up and you let out a surprised noise before settling into Reiner’s arms. Looking over your shoulder to look at Bertholdt, your heart only sinks.

He smiles and Reiner lets out a sharp breath beside you, settling you down. “Bertholdt…” More shapes emerge. A shorter boy accompanied by another taller one, both alike in their features. You recognize one as the Jaw Titan holder before Falco, but the other—

“Marcel!” Reiner chokes out the name, hand stretching out to the fog, but the boy merely tilts his head and waves.

Closing your eyes, hot tears streak over your cooling flesh as you fling your arms around Reiner again and press your face into his neck. He cradles the back of your head, and he feels… somehow weaker, but still, there is that impassable strength in his core that wraps around you as he watches over your shoulder, still clinging on despite your clothes hot enough to burn.

I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. It’s the only thought in your head. Your last clear memory had truly been the others taking flight, and the pain that had ripped apart your body before sewing it back together again in unjust proportions. Your limbs had been too big, your blood racing too warmly through your head as your legs pumped but your brain screamed to stop. 

Your fingers had sank into Reiner’s legs to pull him down and you had watched—watched Jean take a bite out of him—

You shiver and Reiner’s arms tighten around you instinctively, constricting enough to let you know that his attention isn’t on you quite yet.

Boots shifting on the ground tentatively, your knees feel gummy as you draw back long enough to look at him. He still looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to watch the mist retreat. Bertholdt and the other two boys fall into a pool of fog, and your lips part in a farewell, but it’s already too late.

He’s gone.

A wind sweeps through the battlefield, tickling your sweating neck and cooling your boiling blood.

“Hey,” a soft voice croaks.

Their eyes meet in tandem. He regards you softly, like you are the reason the sun rises and the stars hang at the sky. Overwhelmed, you can only cup the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. Your other hand along his jaw, it takes all you can not to pull him into a bone-crushing embrace that’ll send them both to the ground.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper hushedly against his mouth, throat swelling as he lets out a soft noise of surprise as you pull him into another tight hug. You don’t care that you’re crushing him, just that his heart is pounding against your own chest. “I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.” 

His eyes widening, he wraps his hands around your wrists and pulling you back just enough to kiss your fingers that crumple against his mouth. Clasping one of his hands in both of your own, you close your eyes and he uses his free fingers to brush the tears off your cheek before reaching into some dented tin you don’t recognize.

Eyebrows furrowing, you feel the heat leave your entire body, sapping your energy too, and your eyes snap to Reiner who steps back, cracking it open and presenting it to you. 

“You’re not the one who has to be sorry. I don’t think I’m the Armoured Titan anymore,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I get the rest of my life back, but either way, I want to spend the rest of it repenting to you in any way I can, if you’ll allow me to.” A weak smile. “Truth.”

Your throat closes up, and you stare down at the ring so protected, gleaming despite the destruction around them. It looks almost out of place amongst the grime smearing your skin, the sweat drenching their skin, the smell of blood and metal clinging to their clothes, but Reiner only watches you with a tenderness you can barely meet. It’s so overtly overflowing with devotion that your heart is resting on your tongue, seizing control of everything. 

You barely nod, chewing on your lip, trying not to cry even harder as his eyebrows rise in relief and he lets out a long sigh.

He lifts the ring out of the tin, snapping it closed before sliding the band back home onto your finger and all at once, everything floods you. The exhaustion, the pain, the hunger, thirst, grief wrapping around your bones and chaining you to the ground.

It’s over.

The minute he put the ring on your finger, it would mean it was over. No more blood, no more fighting.

Just like he promised.

You barely croak out his name before you fall to your knees. You trust him to catch you, and he does.

[THREE YEARS LATER]

Just after the Rumbling had stopped, you had gone back to Paradis alone and came back with three children to a man who was still uncertain in a world that was changing. 

Since then, you’ve learned so much about the world, about yourself, about Reiner. 

How he’s seized by night terrors even now, just like you, and how one thing that soothes it is going out for a walk while the sun still simmers below the horizon, the sky a dark navy blue spliced with orange rays. The intricate details like him making a point to tie his own tie because his father never taught him how or the way he has to chug his coffee so he has enough energy to get through the day.

And some days are horrible, haunting, but now, it is far outweighed by the good. He teaches Xav how to dress smart, takes the girls out shopping. Sometimes, he’s spotted around Liberio with a flame-haired boy riding his shoulders, you trailing behind hiding a smile behind some ice-cream.

Different nations, foods, cultures surround you now—citizens of countries coming to settle down roots, spread cuisine to Marley. The idea before, of humans so different than you but still similar at the root of it all, existing, still blows your mind. The technologies that you had never seen before, languages you’d never heard, sights you’d never seen, had all swarmed you as you stepped into a new world with him.

But there is always one thing you’ll come back to.

Leaning against the railing in the port city Reiner told you was the harbour he had left twelve years ago, and returned to seven years ago, you watch the clouds travel in slow drags across the pale blue canvas hung high above your head. The water spans for as far as you can see, glimmering under the sun and gorgeous enough to take your breath away. You pull at your coat across your chest absently, ignoring the tender growl of your stomach. 

Breathing in the salty wind, you feel your chest expand at the litle fishing boats a little ways out.

Reiner was right. You don’t get sick of the sea. You never will—not of this much water. You still remember the first time you had swam in it, the salt-water making your hair crisp, the cold sweat forming on your your sun-warmed skin.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you spot blonde hair and warm eyes and smile. Your heart flutters a bit. You shift on your feet.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Reiner leans down beside you, and you clasp your hands, letting the sea wind curl against your neck. Reaching to slip his hand in between yours, he sighs and you lean against his shoulder, glancing at their pile of interlaced fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” you whisper, although even still, you can feel a numbing at your fingertips. You remember what it was like to be a Titan, even now. The sensations haunt you—flashes of your own mutated body, the grotesque meat of your hands sinking into the ankles of the man beside you, the bloodcurdling roar spilling out of your throat.

Glancing at their fingers, you watch the flashes of silver of the rings play in the sunlight, your band now having a matching counterpart on his own hand. You grasp his hands tightly, bringing them up to your lips and his own grip tightens when you dust a kiss gently along his scarred knuckles.

“No,” you finally say at length. “I’m not okay. Going back to Paradis makes me nervous as hell, but we’ll manage.” He nods slowly, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. His own encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him and your eyes close at the familiar warmth—a warmth you’ve woken up next to most days for the past three years. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmurs, and your fingers play with the soft edges teasing at your pads as his nose presses against your cheek. Your eyes flutter at the soft heat emanating from his skin, and you shake your head, melting against him. With one arm still around you, he slants his body away from just enough to pull a bag out of his pocket and it crinkles as he hands it to you. Taking it, you frown and look inside.

A cream bun. You can’t help the crumbling in your expression and Reiner holds your face in his hands carefully, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Let’s stay positive,” he whispers. “We don’t know the situation until we get there and Historia briefs us.”

“I know,” you whisper and his entire expression eases at your words. His eyes gaze at you as if you’re the sole centre of his universe, and he cups your jaw more insistently, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, one you ease into, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth. Laughing, you feel his little nose scrunch and your heart bounds up into your throat as he pulls back only to kiss you again, softer this time.

“Get a room!” A sharp female voice ruins their moment and you pull back just enough to see a red-headed boy running towards them and Reiner crouches down just in time to scoop Xavier up.

“When are you getting married?” he demands. “I was promised cake when you guys got married.”

“I dunno. When you move out of the house I guess,” you tease and Xavier pouts, rubbing at the side of his nose with the heel of his palm.

“Besides, you got cake for your seventh birthday, buddy,” Reiner groans as the boy twists in his arms. “You’re getting heavy. What are you feeding him?” he adds, smiling roguishly at you and you roll your eyes as Alina and Anya approach, sun hats protecting them from the glaring sun. Alina, grocery bags in hand, waves. Anya, who’d been the one to shout, tucks her coin purse back into her bag before flashing you a great big smile.

Only fifteen and seventeen. You can barely recall what it’s like being that young anymore, but you’re grateful they didn’t spend it the way you did. They get to know beauty, and no limits at all. The former comes naturally, the latter is partially because Reiner spoils them rotten.

Alina picks a flower with velvety purple petals from a bouquet she cradles in her arm, extending it to you.

“For good luck,” she says. “And protection.” Your heart melts at her words and you pause for a moment, looking from the gorgeous bloom to Reiner, occupied with the boy in his arms making silly faces at him. Then, without another moment, you sneak the flower behind his ear and he reaches up immediately to hold it against his head, turning to you in surprise. 

“To protect the both of us,” you explain.

“Thank you. I’ll be extra careful now.” He looks at the girls, setting his free hand on Alina’s head heavily and she flushes, smiling grandly. “You three behave while we’re gone, alright?”

You nod. “Listen to Levi.” 

“And listen to your sister,” Reiner adds to Alina and Xavier. The former rolls her eyes, the latter sticks out his tongue. “I’ll miss you.”

This is their home—their family that tumbles together into a huge hug, and you can’t help but stand back, watching how they all seem to merge into one unit, unaware of where one part of their reach ends and another begins.

As Reiner pulls you into the hug, your heart soars through your body, effortlessly pounding in your throat and in your fingers and everywhere at once. Liquid heat pools everywhere as Xavier screws up his face when you kiss his cheek, the same way Reiner does after he’s eaten something sour.

And maybe it’s a bit different, or a bit broken, the shards of their bloody history still poking at their heels whenever they think you’ve forgotten them, and it’s most definitely not perfect, but you would rather have it like this then anything else.

“Hey, guys!” Breaking apart, the family look over to see Armin, Annie, and Pieck walking over. Gabi and Falco meander a little bit behind, pushing Levi in his wheelchair, and Jean and Connie are running not far behind them, shouting at one another. You stifle a laugh and Xavier shimmies out of Reiner’s hold to run towards them. The girls follow after him, trying to hold back their runs but the closer they get, you can tell the more frantic they are to say goodbye.

So this is what they’ve made a peace. Something, you hope, is good.

Annie bypasses them quickly, making her way over to you and you survey her face as Reiner squeezes your shoulder, walking over to their friends. Her blue eyes are fixed on your face, and you feel your lips curving into a smile as she shoves her hands in her pockets. Her hair is swaying in the wind, gleaming flaxen, and you remind yourself, not for the first time, that Armin and Annie’s kids, if they ever decide they want them, will be gorgeous.

Hope for the future, and all that.

She stops in front of you, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“So,” she says at length, “we’re going back to Paradis. I’m surprised you decided to come with us. You don’t owe any of us anything.”

“I know. But… you’re my best friend. You do the talking, I fly the getaway plane, right?”

“Yeah. There used to be a time when it probably would’ve been the opposite.”

You nod, and they stand in silence for a moment, watching each other. Two women who should not have been friends, but were against all odds. You don’t think you would be here today if it weren’t for Annie.

Your heart lurches and you take a step forward just as she does, her mouth open to say something. You throw your arms around her and she lets out a noise in surprise as you close your eyes. Arms coming underneath yours, her hands dig into your shoulders and you smile against soft hair as she sighs, easing into your hug.

“Finally working together on an actual assignment,” you mumble and her head tilts as her small frame shifts, a hand patting you on the back as a sign for you to back up. “Just like we always said we would.” 

Bluntly: “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“You, too.” Pulling back, the two look at one another for another soft moment before you remember the bag in your hand and you shift the bun up in the bag, extending it towards her. “Want some?” Her eyebrows rise in faint delight, before she’s reaching over, pinching and tearing a piece off. 

You grin and do the same and you gesture for her to come stand by the rails with you, stuffing the bag into your coat pocket. Leaning against the warm metal again, you hear a seagull call. The plane you’ll be flying to Paradis floats on the water, the technicians giving it the final check before you take off.

If anything goes wrong while you help prepare and oversee accommodations for the rest of the ambassador group, you’ll remember to fire the black signal flare, but you trust Historia. You trust your friends.

You glance over at them, all laughing, and you notice that the flower has gone from Reiner to Pieck, who’s taking it out of her dark hair to tuck it into Jean’s, and his cheeks redden as he brushes it more securely behind his ear.

Annie catches your attention again, pointing out idly that they’ll have to separate soon when they finish with the plane, and you tell her to just wait a couple minutes more as Reiner catches your gaze. Setting Xav, who has somehow wormed his way back into his arms, down, he walks back over to you, and his hand trails purposefully over your back before resting at the nape of your neck, a reassuring weight on your body.

“You guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Annie replies. “You have a clingy boyfriend,” she tells you. 

“I think it’s charming.”

She rolls her eyes. Reiner smiles, and you pat the railing beside you—silent invitation. He leans in on your other side, clasping his hands and watching the fishermen pull themselves to shore, singing a tune to each other—one familiar to all three of them and one that you wish you could get out of your head. 

“Soon may the Wellerman come…”

A faint breeze tickling at your fingertips as a sharp call for embarkment splits the harbour, you simply sigh and look over at Reiner. “I just want these last few moments to last.” His eyes meet yours, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyes. Annie lets out a soft noise of disgust and you bump your hip against her as Reiner pulls back.

Closing your eyes and lifting your head to the wind, you can almost imagine the one person missing standing on the other side of Annie, dark hair like spun, stained bronze and eyes like warm chocolate. He’d smile and tell them not to worry in that sincere way of his that makes you believe every word he says—as long as they were careful, they wouldn’t walk into any traps.

Your chest aches, and your lips tug into a heart-wrenching smile as you begin to sing along. Reiner slips a hand in between yours, pressing his temple against your head and you loop your other arm through Annie’s.

She rests her head on your shoulder, listening to your voice, eyes on the sailors bringing in their haul below them. Reiner hums the shanty softly, distractedly, eyes cast across the sea.

You tilt your head up to the sky, at the stars you cannot see but will join one day, and smile.

#fic: homebound #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner braun imagine #reiner braun fic #reiner x reader #reiner x you #aot #aot x reader #aot x you #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #attack on titan fanfiction #snk #snk x reader #snk x you #shingeki no kyojin x reader #my writing

[beann-e]

“ let’s go“

“ excuse me “

“ I said let’s go . “

Your eyes creased as you leaned back into your desk chair —leg moving to cross over the other as your hands landed together in a hold on your lap. Eyes looking up at the male in front of you.

“ look at you looking everywhere but this messy ass desk I see “

you scoffed “ if it’s so messy why do you keep coming down here just to add on to it ? “

his head shaking a bit at your comment he had to admit he was a bit interested in your words even though he originally came here for a purpose. He had to see how this would play out. So yeah he’d play your little game.

“ huh mister prohero “ your face lit up in sadness to mock the male in front of you “ aw wait I forgot I have to be exact with my words when it comes to you because your emotionally challenged“

you stood up placing your hands on the desk in between you and the blond haired male.

“ the only thing ‘ challenged ‘ here is this crusty ass run down building I had to buy glasses to find “

“ ouu where are they? maybe they could also help you see this“ you smiled before reaching into your suit jacket only to pout “ crap hold up it’s not in there it’s something I picked up specially for you hold on “

“ what the hell are you looking for in there your taking awhile “ he spoke louder after a couple minutes seemed to pass and you were still searching around

“ huh that’s weird — hold on I can’t seem to find it “

“ find what ? “ his face made up in confusion as his eyes followed your body that was looking through your desk only to turn and rummage through the drawers behind you“ fuck is it really that bad —you’ve gotta clean y/n “

“ yeah I know hold on I swear I know where it is I keep a lot of them just in case “

“ is it important or some shit ?— if not I can wait I swear i’ll just come back down here tomorrow“ he sighed still trying to look over you shoulder “ I just came down here to fuck with you before heading ho—“

“ yeah no you’ll want it a lot of people seem to want it these days — it’s hot on the market “

“ well what the hell is i— “

“ AHA “ you screamed your hand stuck in the drawer as he tried to peek over your back to see what it was his body shrinking when he saw your eyes whip around to lock with his. Him going back to the cool, calm collected guy he was minutes ago as he ran his fingers through his hair

“ here look it’s limited edition these days “

“ what is it like an all might collectable or some shi— “

His heart stopped when he seen you fully turn around and smirk your eyebrow slightly raised as his eyes slowly went downcast on your hand showing off the freshly painted middle finger.

It straightened to perfection as it stood tall only causing the male to fume silently and speak under his breath “ what the hell “

“ look baku it’s the fuck you so desperately want me to give “ You pushed it towards him as you walked around your desk to get closer seeing the upset face he held “ aw what you don’t like it “

you sucked your teeth reaching into your back pocket “ here i’ll exchange it for you “ you brought your hand out from your pocket and back into his face as he started to shake slightly. You knew you’d went too far. Your jokes always went further than a person wanted you to.

You were fucking with him

He didn’t like it

He wouldn’t like it this time

.. He liked it

— he liked it

wait he lik—

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him face going stone when you finally seen that his lips were pressed harshly on yours. His moves were rough hands fast and quick already knowing what to do while you struggled with yourself over where to put your own.

No matter how many times the male before you kissed you it always felt differently each time. Your body relaxed into his as he smiled into the kiss only to laugh and bring his forehead to rest against yours “ your so fucking stupid “

“ but I beat you in class ranks in high school “

his smile widened he couldn’t even find it in himself to be upset not when you were having fun with your joke “ yes yes you did “

you smiled softly only to have it wiped away when he opened his mouth again “ but I beat you in jobs you asshole “

“ hey prick I enjoy my job “ he nodded his head as he moved to sit in your work chair “ yeah no no of course “

his hand moved to pull a cup of old coffee from behind your computer as he looked at you “ I would totally be able to tell— babe all id need is an everyday trip to your luxurious work place“ he lifted the coffee cup and held it to his cheek smiling softly to mess with you

he swiveled your computer monitor to the side to show off the millions of coffee cups you had hidden from his and your employees eyes

“ god so many— how would corporate feel about this knowing you’ve got all this shit piled up back here— it’s screaming that you overwork yourself y/n “

“ uh i’m mostly worried about my bosses opinion “

he smiled up at you only to shake his head with a small laugh whispering under his breath “ fucking stupid—you’re your boss “

he laid his cheek onto his palm as he looked up at you anytime he was around you it was like he was completely swallowed whole by your vibes. You were such a down to earth person and that’s what calmed him no matter what argument or how many there were you always found a way to calm him and the situation down.

no matter what you said or did he would always find a way to look at you as though you were holding the whole world in your eyes “ and what does your boss say y/n ? “

you perked up “ ouu good thing I have em on call let’s see “ you reached out to grab your husbands phone hand wrapping around it tightly feeling the many scratches it had on it’s back from the slams of it on the table after one too many documents he’d filled out the night before at work.

He was always so angry and mean—even to objects

Your fingers moved to put in the password as he looked at you head leaning back to rest against the chair as he moved the chair from side to side you having his full attention before he reached out to grab your phone sliding over to answer the call

“ hi is this big bird ? or also known as red from angry birds ? “

“ Ill let you slide with your comments because your voice sounds kinda hot right now and i like your suit — but yes this is your local prick hotline how may I assist you today “

A smile made its way onto your face as you watched his own just grow larger and larger over time “ oh I see so this is the one and only katsuki bakugou hmm “

you tapped your chin “ so tell me what’s someone as unimportant as yourself doing answering your bosses phone “

“ ouuu hard question “ he played with his keys that laid on your work desk “ I came here to ask em out for lunch maybe go out to go karts y’know since there’s a little brat at home who’s been dying to ride one ever since they’ve seen that shitty commercial “

“ mmhmm so please enlighten me what does this have to do with you answering your bosses phone “

“ nothing “

“ oh ? “ your eyes widened “ well I heard several complaints that you were just telling your boss what to do as if their not head of your company or in other words your “ you whispered “ boss “

“ yeah I guess i’ve fucked up huh ? should have actually dressed up instead of coming to get em’ in sweats serves me right— here i’ll pass the phone to my boss since they seem to look more business professional today — I don’t feel worthy enough to answer my bosses phone “

“as you should — nice to know you’ve finally learned your place“ you bit your lip at his quietness expecting him to go off or say something snappy but he only encouraged you to continue with a small smile and a head nod.

Honestly he was enjoying you he loved your jokes even if they sometimes went too far or if they hurt his pride he loved to see you enjoying yourself.

He’d rather you be open and comfortable with him and tell your horribly stupid jokes versus beating yourself up and thinking you have to watch what you say around him

“ fuck it’s gotta be the pantsuit is that why your letting me do all this—you douche your probably paying more attention to my suit than me “

“ correct smart girl —role reversal? “

“ we’re switching back? “ you laughed confirming his statement “ role reversal “

“ fine by me “ you smiled as he held out your phone to you and you held out his to him.

“ yes may I speak to y/n bakugou ? “ he stated as he spoke into his phone

“ mm i’m not sure I know them could you be more exact “

he scoffed “ yes my boss — i’m looking to speak with my boss please “

“ oo a boss —wife —plus a mother that’s a lucky catch you should be greatful — le asshole“

His smile faded as he stared at your eyes that locked with his . In this moment nothing could compare to the happiness he felt except for when he took his child to their first quirk appointment and received the good news of them not only having his quirk but yours too. Happily he wouldn’t have to deal with his kid getting bullied sadly he had a mini icy hot running around.

This was why he married you and this is why he loved you because what felt like hours of conversation had only been 10 minutes. He felt like he’d been transported to another world when he was talking to you. What originally started out as him just coming to take his wife and daughter on a lunch date turned into him on the phone with his boss.

You,

yet again being reminded that he’d always fall under you in status , in authority , at home, in the marriage , at work , and in his heart. Youd always be the one in power

“your fucking funny — a comedian really —always keeping me on my toes so yeah—yeah a real lucky catch— ‘m fucking lucky “

#katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou headcanons #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bakusquad #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugō #katsuki x y/n #katsukibakugou #katsuki x you #bnha katsuki x reader #mha katsuki #mha fanfiction #mha fluff #mha #mha x reader #mha imagines #bnha #bnha fluff #bnha headcanons

[alwayshaveneverholdd]

REWRITING NARUTO ROMANCES SO THEY DON'T SUCK

We all know that the romance in Naruto is trash and Kishimoto himself admitted to not knowing how to write female characters and getting embarrassed by romantic scenes…so let’s fix that shit

Part 2: SasuSaku

Okay so I’m gonna be going more in depth and talking about Sakura’s characterization, as well as the family dynamic between Sasuke Sakura and Sarada.

I didn’t do that for naruhina because I honestly truly could not give less of a fuck about boruto and himawari. They’re both gifted ninja children with little to no family struggles. “Meeeeh my dads the hokage blehhhhhh poor meeeee” stfu nobody feels sorry for you

ANYWAY

LETS START BY SHITTING ON ALL OF IT (AS I DO)

- Sasusaku in a nutshell

- Sakura: you’re so hot my teen hormones are making me think I’m in love with you!!!

- Sasuke:….y’all hear sumn?

- *fifteen years and a forehead poke later* Sakura: lol where’s my husband

- Lmfao I’m just kidding I am actually the HUGEST sasusaku shipper and I just FUCKING WISH kishimoto hired someone who could do romance or knew about women or something so not only Sakura could flourish but also the rest of the female characters who were mostly depicted as harmful female stereotypes: weak, overly emotional, superficial, do everything for boy

- I think that him saying he wanted Sakura to be a fan favorite but then made her such an asshole and so annoying at the beginning is like….what

- AND I GET IT kids with both parents d o n o t understand that not having both parents growing up doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a basket case (says me, the child of an only parent who was constantly pitied for it but is doing a lot more with my life than any of my friends who had both parents Lmfao)

- But why did he make her so…. “LOL NARUTO IS SOOOO FUCKING STUPID WHAT A LOSER FOR BEING AN ORPHAN” what the fuck who would actually have that attitude toward someone like that

- Her parents, though we don’t see much of them, seem like decent people? I’d like to think they wouldn’t raise such a judgmental kid

- I’ll fix that in the second half dw

- Okay also w h a t t h e f u c k I n g f u c k

- I hate that Ino and Sakura’s friendship was ruined by a boy, and that their rivalry was mostly about Sasuke…

- Kishimoto-sensei come on dude I love you but w h y

- I’ll admit girls do have a competitive nature with each other a lot

- BUT GUESS WHAT

- Most girls are in competition because of things like?? Low-self esteem and big egos, which young kids of all gender and gender identities have lmfao

- In my experience it’s rare that a boy is what breaks up a friendship (unless one friend “stole” the others boyfriend in which case that guy didn’t want to be with you anyway sister get over it)

- Also can we just talk about how in Shippuden every time sakura is like “I GOT THIS!” “ILL GET EM!” She gets fuckin destroyed

- So much for Sakura getting so much stronger during the blank period ???? What the fuck

- Sakura IS powerful and I wish she would’ve been given as much power as naruto and Sasuke on some level so she could hold her own against them like what the hell

- I’m jumping around a lot but first of all: fuck Sakura’s fake confession to naruto that was so immature and unnecessary and she is way too smart for that wtf

- Also fuck Sakura becoming a sub and offering to join Sasuke when she went to kill him

- We’re fixing all this fuckin shit

- Also pls the anime did sasusaku so dirty

- They took out all of sasukes blushes from the manga

- In the manga Sasuke blushed many times around/at the mention of Sakura

- And his FOOT WAS SHAKING WHEN SHE CONFESSED THE FINAL TIME

- btw let’s just take out all of Sakura’s fucking confessions just stop sis you’re embarrassing yourself we’re gonna rewrite this shit for you in a way that respects you okay

- Sarada looks nothing like Sakura and I’m pressed

- I’m tilted

- SHE LITERALLY LOOKS LIKE KARIN BRO HAVE YOU SEEN HER? Similar hairstyle, same glasses, honestly same face (it’s a cartoon they all look the same FUCK YOU she looks like Karin and you know exactly what I mean)

- They couldn’t have given her Sakura’s hair color or style??? At the least???? Or just different fucking glasses Jesus

- I hated that entire “is Karin my real mom” dilemma cry me a river

- Pls they could’ve created so many other conflicts that would’ve been way better

- Suigetsu is a fucking moron and ofc he would believe Sasuke and Karin got it on bc he has the IQ of a pistachio

- There was just…they could’ve reintroduced those characters in such a better way

- Also I’d like to see Sakura interact with Jugo, Suigetsu, and Karin. Just Sakura interacting with and being friends with sasukes friends would help paint their relationship dynamic better

- And can we get into sasukes thoughts other than when we’re shown his itachi and massacre flashbacks for the 10847382th time

- Like during one of Sakura’s confessions maybe a sad look and a flash of team 7 in his mind bc he’s reminded of his bonds and how much he enjoyed his time just being a normal kid

- I’m gonna need more than an “I’m sorry for everything” and a forehead poke

- Sorry chief

- The least you can do is give us a fucking episode showing how their romance happened?

- That would be fucking hilarious

- Bc Sasuke clearly knows jack shit about romance, even now when they’re married with a kid

- “Sasuke…do you wanna date me?” “Why would I hit you with dates? Those have pits. Are you a masochist?” “What?” “What? I gotta go…help naruto with something…bye”

- Like lmfao

- Okay I think I’m good on the first half let’s move on to fixing shit

- FIRST AND FOREMOST

- Can we just….NOT ALL YOUNG GIRLS ARE DATING CRAZY AND ACT ALL PSYCHO

- Yes I’ve known people of all genders that are interested in dating very young, but not to the extent that is shown in Naruto with literally all the characters obsessed with Sasuke

- So we’re not gonna do that “fangirl pack follows Sasuke around” thing.

- I liked that Ino was the one who gave Sakura confidence and helped her believe in herself, so we’re keeping that

- But let’s not make Sakura become an Ino clone because pls they were so fucking SIMILAR in the first part

- And Sakura is not mean to Naruto just bc she likes Sasuke, let’s change that. Maybe Sakura was annoyed and felt like Naruto was deliberately trying to get in the way (which he was, and she did express these feelings) so how about she cONFRONT HIM

- just ducking ask him you pussy “why are you trying to get in the way of me building a friendship with sasuke”

- Communication! Healthy friendships! Y’all: You’re asking too much of 12 year olds

- Me: SHUT THE FUCK UP THIS IS MY PERFECT WORLD

- No more “IM GONNA GET THE FIRST KISS FROM SASUKE”

- Let’s have Sakura be less….like that.

- ANYWAY I think the subtle way that Sakura and Sasukes friendship developed was actually good, I don’t have many complaints there.

- Now when we get to him leaving the village….NO CONFESSIONS. Sakura will still ask him why he has to go, but instead of being stupid and saying “IM 12 AND IM IN LOVE WITH YOU BLEH YOUR PARENTS BEING MURDERED IS THE SAME FEELING I HAVE WHEN YOURE NOT HERE” don’t even go there dude

- Instead she will think to herself how her feelings for sasuke have grown from infatuation into truly caring for him. Maybe she even mentions that he’s different from what people think he is, try to remind him that she and Naruto and Kakashi are a team and like family.

- Ofc everything else would be the same but I think that if she had made points that way, him thanking her would hit harder

- NO asking Naruto to “bring sasuke back to me” he’s not yours dude wtf

- Instead Sakura would NOT CRY but still be upset and wish Naruto and the others farewell. She would still recognize her own shortcomings and train rly hard during the blank period.

- Now let’s skip ahead okay so can Sakura not get her ass beat so much in the second part like fucking really come on

- She will do damage to fuckin sasori and not rely 95% on granny chiho

- Also? Why the hell did she try to stop sasuke with her fist during their first reunion? Jesus

- So I think sasukes behavior should remain pretty much the same, it fits his tortured traumatized characterization.

- Now Sakura, I think she should have been way less dramatic about everything. No confessions to Naruto, having an actual good plan to kill sasuke other than with a poisoned kunai

- I’d like to think Sakura would be pretty powerful by now and could hold her own against sasuke. When he asked her to kill Karin to prove her loyalty, she should’ve known he was tricking her and just fucking went at him. Kakashi and Naruto would’ve intervened either way but now Sakura is using her abilities instead of almost getting killed by sasuke TWICE without even fighting back.

- I think Sakura shouldn’t have confronted Naruto at all before going to kill sasuke tbh

- Now onto to the war, I think by now Sakura did realize that Sasuke was fucked up, much too fucked up to return her feelings but I think she did love him at this point, if nothing just wanting to save him from himself, so I think that’s on par

- The real oh fuck comes during the war when they went at Kaguya

- SAKURA NEEDED TO DO MORE, AND SASUKE WOULDVE NOTICED HER MORE AND BEEN MORE IMPRESSED

- 100% keep the sasuke teleporting using sakuras jacket and then catching her before she passes out from low chakra that shit was nice and he just kept holding her too and that eye contact BITCH

- The way I’ve written this rewrite so far, I do think the last confession was appropriate. One for the whole show is good.

- Because this would be her first verbal confession it would be more dramatic in a good way and more impactful.

- Everything else would play out the same

- But when sasuke leaves to atone for his sins or whatever I’d like to see a private conversation between him and Sakura where he truly does apologize and maybe even spice it up, have him tell her to find someone that deserves her love

- It’ll leave her thinking and he still gives her the forehead poke and tells her to take care

- And they still get together and all that but I wanna see howwwwww

- ALSO SASUKE STOP BEING AN ABSENT FATHER CHALLENGE

- I think that whole thing of Sarada not recognizing her own father is pretty FUCKED UP and I know it creates conflict and all that and sasukes character whatever okay fine keep it whatever

- But Fuck that stupid mother Karin arc

- And show more sasusaku interactions

- Sasuke hangs out with Naruto more than his own wife man is it that hard to think Sasuke can be around more now

- I do really like how Sasuke and Sakura are both rly involved with Saradas training. Overall they’re a cute family. WHy tf does Kakashi give Sasuke parenting advice from Makeout Paradise tho like wtf MAJOR CREEPY also Kawaki and Sarada p cute together idk

- I’m tired I’m gonna take a nap peace

#naruto #naruto ships #naruto memes #sasuke uchiha #naruto shippuden #sasusaku #sakura haruno #sakura #sasuke #ino yamanaka #sarada uchiha #boruto #masashi kishimoto #naruto uzimaki #hinata hyuga #naruto matchup

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Plant Your Hope With Good Seeds

Dukeceit Week Day 3: Snakes/Bugs

Remus and Janus break up. But literally everyone knows that's not what they want. Everyone, including their plants.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 4337

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

Unknown Number

hey so i kno i said i wouldnt text u but rupert isnt doin good. can i bring him back? he misses u

Janus stared at the text for several minutes. Rupert was, of course, the Monstera Variegata that he and Remus had raised together all the way from propagation. It had been one of the pride and joys of their plant collection. Losing Rupert in the split had hurt almost as much as losing Remus.

...Almost. 

Janus

Is it getting enough light? Remember it needed the grow light even next to the window. 

Janus texted back against his better judgement. He and Remus were broken up. They’d agreed not to text for a while. They’d agreed to give each other space, get used to being apart. 

It sucked, though. The apartment felt empty without Remus and half their plant collection.

Unknown Number

ya i kno. but i don’t have any south facign windows here. our place is better

Unknown Number

i mean ur place

Janus sighed morosely. Well, if it was for Rupert…

Janus

Fine. Rupert can come back.

Unknown Number

yay! ill be in town this weekend. ill bring him ok?

Janus

Ok.

And then Janus promptly threw his phone across the room.

Because here’s the thing. Janus and Remus were broken up. Remus had moved eight hours away and everything. He’d been accepted into the Nuclear Engineering graduate program a state away, and they had both heard too many horror stories about long-distance relationships to brother trying. So they’d had a very civil and mutual split. Janus kept the apartment. Remus took the TV. And they’d divided their plant family between them: they each kept their favorites, and Remus had taken the hardier plants, while Janus kept the ones that were likely not to survive an interstate move.

And then… Remus left.

And Janus had not immediately wanted him back. Not at all.

(And, of course, Janus was lying to himself.)

Remus texted him Saturday morning that he was on his way, and Janus spent the first few hours of the wait stress-cleaning. He then checked on every single plant in the apartment. Watered the ones that needed it. Rotated some of the more vivacious growers so that they wouldn’t lean full-body toward their light source. Moved his small army of Sansevierias out to the apartment balcony for some extra sun.   

Then, when all that still failed to fill up the entire eight hours of waiting, he started stress-cooking. So by the time Remus texted that he’d just gotten off the highway, Janus had himself a pot of minestrone soup simmering on the stove, a tray of made-from-scratch lasagna in the oven, and was mixing up a batch of double chocolate chip cookies. 

There was no way he was going to eat all this food himself, he realized. He was so used to booking big meals like this, because Remus ate like he was three people. And lasagna was his favorite.

“Oh, Jake, what am I doing?” he groaned to the N’Joy Pothos that cascaded down the side of the refrigerator. And then his doorbell rang. 

Janus opened the door to find Remus, dancing awkwardly from foot to foot, with his face half-hidden behind the green-and-white leaves of Rupert. 

“...Hey,” Remus said, sounding sheepish. Janus’ heart clenched.

“Hi,” he said. They stood there in the doorway for a full minute before Janus stepped back and motioned for Remus to follow. Remus hesitated, but obeyed. 

“Uh… I’ll just…” Remus looked around. Janus hated how uncomfortable he looked. Until about two weeks ago, this had been Remus’ apartment, too. “Can I put him in his old spot?”

“Sure,” Janus replied with a nod. Rupert’s old spot had been in the bedroom, where the big, beautiful south-facing window let in a ton of light. He’d moved Venus de Milos, his Marble Queen Pothos, and La Hoya Jackson, the finicky Hoya Carnosa that Remus had wanted but didn’t expect to make the 8-hour drive without going into shock, to free up Rupert’s spot. Remus hesitated again, before he nodded awkwardly and wandered off to the bedroom, all three feet of plant and two gallons of soil in tow. Janus went to the oven and took out the lasagna. 

“Howl looks good,” Remus said when he came back into the kitchen. Janus glanced up from where he was laying balls of cookie dough out onto baking sheets. 

“Thank you,” he replied. Howl was their dramatic fiddle leaf fig tree, which had decided to throw a fit just before Remus left. “I switched it to a terracotta pot with peat moss and pearlite, and doubled its water intake. It seems to be tolerating it well.”

“Good.” There was a long pause. Then,” How are you?”

Janus looked back to the cookies. “I’m doing well,” he lied. “And you? Do you start class soon?”

“Next week,” Remus answered. “And, uh. Yeah, I’m doin’ good.” Another long pause. “Uh… I’ll just. Head out, I guess.”

“You could stay,” Janus blurted out. Shit. “For dinner, I mean.” He gestured to the tray of lasagna, fresh from the oven. “If you want.”

Remus gave him an uncharacteristically shy smile, then nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything, though, so Janus just gestured for him to take a seat at the table. And then he joined him, a plate of lasagna for each of them.

“So tell me, how’s living with Roman again?” Janus asked, a few bites into the meal, because he could not take the awkward silence a moment longer.

“It’s ok,” Remus answered. He shoveled another forkful of lasagna into his mouth. “This is really good, Jan.”

Janus smiled softly. “Thank you.” A pause. “Roman doesn’t mind all the plants?”

“Nah, he’s dating this guy Patton who apparently loves plants, so the apartment being full of houseplants is a huge plus to him now.”

“Good for him.” The oven timer went off, startling him slightly. He started to get up, but Remus waved him off.

“I got ‘em, you did all the cooking.”

Janus didn’t protest. Remus got up and took the cookies out of the oven. And he even moved them to a cooling rack like Janus had taught him to do. He came back to the table. 

“How’s work?”

Janus sighed. “Oh, terrible as always,” he answered. “I really must start looking for a new job.”

“Finally getting fed up?” Remus teased. Janus rolled his eyes. More seriously, Remus continued, “You deserve better, Jan. You gotta find some place that treats you right and pays you what you’re worth.”

“Thank you, Remus.”

“And hey, just sayin’, I still think you’d make an excellent stripper.”

Janus snorted at that. “I haven’t fully ruled out that particular career change.”

They fell easily back into their usual banter, lingering late into the night over a dessert of milk and cookies. It was pushing 10pm when Remus glanced at his phone and cursed softly. Janus glanced at his phone as well.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so late,” he said. Remus shrugged.

“Nah, it’s cool. Thanks for dinner, Jan. It was real good, as always.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Uh… well, the plan was to stay with Logan, but I guess he had some kind of family emergency, so I don’t wanna trouble him. I’ll probably see if I can find a hotel room.”

Janus’ brow furrowed at that. “Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t wanna trouble you. I kinda feel like I already overstayed my welcome a bit?”

“Nonsense. A hotel room will cost you at least $100 for the night, and that’s simply ridiculous,” Janus insisted. “You should just stay here.”

Remus worried at his lip, which Janus knew meant he was mulling over his options. Then, he nodded. “If it’s not a bother?”

“Of course not. You’re not a bother, Remus.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and he smiled. “Ok. Thank you. Oh… lemmie go get my overnight back outta my truck.”

When Remus came back inside, Janus had just about finished making up the couch. 

“Hey, you don’t gotta get all fancy,” Remus teased. “You know I can sleep basically anywhere.”

“This is for me,” Janus replied. He fluffed up one of the pillows a bit more. “You take the bed.”

An odd look flashed across Remus’ face. “No way, Jan. I’m good on the couch.”

“Remus, you just drove eight hours, and you’re doing it again tomorrow. I am not letting you fuck up your back.”

‘I don’t-”

“Yes you do, no matter how often you say you can sleep anywhere,” Janus scoffed. “You can’t lie to me.”

Remus’ eyes softened, and after a moment, he sighed. “Ok, Jan. But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You hate sleeping on couches.”

“It’s only one night-”

“And don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Yes, but-”

“You’re going to be so grumpy at work without a proper night’s sleep.”

“I’m usually grumpy at work anyway,” Janus pointed out. Remus snorted.

“Ok, that’s true. But I don’t want you to be even grumpier,” he said. “Let’s just share the bed.”

Janus eyed him for a moment. This was a terrible idea. They should not do this.

“Ok,” Janus said anyway.

They got ready for bed in awkward silence, which just made Janus miss Remus’ long, rambling chatter that much more. When Janus finished in the bathroom, he found Remus sitting gingerly on what used to be his side of the bed. Janus came over and sat down on the other side.

“Hey, uh… thanks,” Remus said. “For lettin’ me stay.”

“Of course,” Janus answered. “I… I still think of you as a friend, Remus.”

At that. Remus grimaced slightly. He didn’t say anything, seeming unable to find the right words. Before he could, Janus pulled back the top blankets on the bed and laid down. After a moment, Remus did the same.

“Good night, Remus,” Janus said quietly.

“...Good night, Janus,” Remus answered. Then he reached over and shut off the light.

-

Remus played that night over and over in his head in the days after he got home, and each and every time, he was just as stumped. 

He knew, in his brain, why he and Janus had broken up. It had been the only thing that made sense at the time, when the facts were just that Remus was moving away to pursue a lifelong dream, and Janus would never ever try to stop him from doing so. So they broke up. It made sense… right? 

But… That morning, he’d woken up to Janus curled up in his arms, face smushed against Remus’ neck, and… Remus had completely forgotten why they had even broken up in the first place.

Remus was back at Roman’s apartment, now. Eight hours away in his own cold bed, arms empty of the man he loved, just staring at the ceiling. A sharp knock on his door snapped him out of his daze.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Roman called. “Don’t you have class in like an hour?”

“Fuck!” Remus scrambled to get up, but succeeded only in rolling out of the bed.

“Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave,” Roman added. Clearly he was unconcerned by the loud “thump” of a body hitting the floor. 

“Yup, got it,” Remus groaned in reply. He staggered, successfully this time, to his feet. 

Getting dressed was a rushed affair of ‘grab whatever’s closest,’ and soon he emerged from the bedroom with one shoe on, the other in his hand, and his backpack slung over one shoulder. He rushed into the kitchen to grab the travel mug of coffee Janus always set out for him in the mornings. And then the realization hit: Janus didn’t live here.

Remus dropped his shoe. 

The rest of the day went about as well as it could have gone without any coffee- that is to say, terribly. He got lost trying to get to campus, then he got lost again trying to get to class. Then he got stuck in traffic on the way back to Roman’s apartment. And then, to top it all off, the grocery store had been out of his favorite chips. 

So here he was, mopey and chip-less, and fucking exhausted. He dumped his backpack and collapsed face-first onto the couch. Roman, who happened to be sitting on said couch, made a noise of protest.

“Move, I need to sulk,” Remus mumbled, though his voice was thoroughly muffled by Roman’s thigh, since that was where his face had landed. 

“What on earth do you need to sulk for?” Roman asked incredulously. He moved to shove Remus off of him, but Remus went full ragdoll, and Roman couldn’t do a damn thing. “You are a grown man, you know.”

Remus turned his head just enough to stick his tongue out at Roman. Roman stuck his tongue out back.

“I had a terrible day, I earned a good sulk.”

“Didn’t like your classes?”

“Nah, they were great.”

“Professors?”

“Great.”

“Classmates?”

“Great.”

“Then Zeus Almighty, what are you so mopey-dopey about?” Roman remanded.

Remus squirmed around so he was laying on his back, head still in Roman’s lap, to look up at his brother. “So… uh… you promise not to get all, like. I told you so and shit?” 

“You miss Janus!”

“No! I-”

“You do!” Roman crowed triumphantly. Remus rolled onto his side so he didn’t have to look at his brother’s dumb gloaty face.

“...Maybe,” he groaned. Abruptly, he clamored to his feet and started for the stairs. “I gotta go build a chair.”

“Carpentry won’t solve your relationship problems,” Roman called after him.

“I know,” Remus called back. “Wrong type of wood.” If Roman had a response to that, Remus was already out the door and didn’t have to hear it. 

Patton found him out in front of the apartment building some time later, a jigsaw in hand, and a pile of cut wooden dowels at his feet.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you up to?”

Remus looked up from where he was balancing a plank of wood precariously across a milk crate, because his work table was one of the things he’d had to leave behind at Janus’ place.

“Oh, hey. Ro-bro’s upstairs.”

Patton gave him the sort of smile teachers gave to the kid they caught eating glue for the fourth time. “That doesn’t look super safe. Do you want any help?”

Remus took in Patton’s soft blue sweater and the dad-jeans from the nicer end of his closet, as well as the reusable grocery store bag that smelled suspiciously like some kind of lovely home-cooked meal; he shook his head. “You look dressed for a date night,” he said. “I don’t wanna fuck up two relationships this week.”

Patton’s eyes, impossibly, got even bigger and softer than they normally were, which honestly was quite the feat. He walked over to the stairs but, instead of making his way up to Roman’s apartment, he plopped down on the third step, facing Remus. Remus stared, bewildered.

“Uh, what’chu doin’ there, pops?”

“Well, it just sounded like you needed to talk,” Patton replied cheerfully. “So here I am.”

Remus stared a moment longer, somehow even more bewildered than before. “Uh…”

“I know I haven’t known you very long,” Patton continued. “But something tells me you’re the type of person who busts out the power tools when you’re upset.”

“How the hell can you tell that?”

Patton glanced over his shoulder, then leaned forward slightly. “Because,” he said, voice lowered conspiratorially. “I’m like that too.”

Remus blinked. “You?”

“Yup! I replaced all the tables and chairs in my house with ones I made myself after my last breakup,” Patton giggled. “Only two of them collapsed when I sat in them, too!”

Remus glanced down at the jigsaw in his hands, and then he sighed. He set it down, and went to sit next to Patton on the steps. 

“Ok, well. Yeah, maybe I’m kinda upset.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah? No? Maybe?”

“Yup, those are your three options!” Patton teased. Remus rolled his eyes.

“Ok, fine. You win, daddy-o. I’m upset because I miss my boyfriend. Or, well, my ex-boyfriend. I want him to be my boyfriend again.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Of course not,” Remus whined.

“Why not?”

“Because… I mean. It wouldn’t change anything. I still moved away. And I don’t even know if he’d want to be my boyfriend again either. Maybe he’s happier now.”

“You don’t know that,” Patton said gently. “Sure, maybe the circumstances aren’t the best right now, but if you both want it, things have a funny way of working out. But you have to talk to him.”

“I…” Remus paused. And then he sighed deeply. “I guess you’re right. Hey thanks, that did actually sorta help.”

Patton offered him a gentle smile. “Of course, Remus! Any time!”

“Hey!”

They both turned to see Roman standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed.

“My own brother, hogging my boyfriend like this! The betrayal-”

“Relax, Ro, he’s not my type,” Remus shot back. “I prefer sarcastic little menaces.”

Patton giggled at that. He stood up and patted Remus on the shoulder. “I hope things work out,” he said. Remus smiled back.

“Yeah, I hope so too.”

Really, he just wanted Janus to be happy. Ideally with him, but if Janus was happier without him, well… so be it. 

- - -

Janus was miserable. 

“Dude, c’mon,” Virgil grumbled, immediately upon seeing the state of the apartment. “You’ve been watering your plants and filling the humidifiers, but you can’t be bothered to throw out your gross pizza boxes?” A pause. “Wait, you don’t even like pizza, what the hell.”

Janus just shrugged. After letting Virgil and Logan into the apartment, he’d gone straight back into blanket-burrito-on-the-couch mode. And really, he’d only bothered to get up and let them inside in the first place because Virgil had threatened to axe down the door- and Janus knew for a fact that Virgil owned multiple axes. 

“I believe he is engaging in what is described as ‘emotional eating,’ or using food as a coping mechanism in a time of stress and emotional turmoil,” Logan said helpfully. Virgil just huffed.

“That’s fine and all, but Jesus Christ, dude.” He gestured around the livingroom where… ok, yeah, it was a mess.

“Did you two come here just to insult me?” Janus grumbled. His face was half-mashed into a pillow, though, so who knows how much of that was actually discernible.

“We came to make sure you were still alive,” Virgil snapped, indicating that at least most of what Janus had said was discernible. “You weren’t answering any texts.”

“Yes, and you called out of work three days in a row,” Logan added. “We are concerned for you, Janus.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Janus lied from the comfort of his depression blanket burrito. He was not particularly surprised when neither Virgil or Logan looked even remotely convinced.

“Alright, drastic measure time,” Virgil growled. He walked over to the window, and picked up the young Burgundy Rubber Tree Janus had yet to name. Janus sat bolt upright. 

“Virgil? Don’t you dare-”

Virgil walked past him and vanished down the hall. When he came back, his hands were empty, and he had a smirk on his face.

“Oh, fuck you,” Janus hissed. He dragged himself up off the couch to go rescue the poor thing, finding it stashed in the dark, windowless bathroom. When he came back to the livingroom, Virgil and Logan were sprawled across the couch.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Janus set the rubber tree back on the windowsill alongside the Snake Plant Army. “Ok, I’m up. Are you heathens happy now?”

“I take offense to that,” Logan muttered, while Virgil just crossed his arms and said, curtly, “Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset-”

“Falsehood,” Logan interrupted. “I have known you since high school, Janus, and I have never seen you like this before. It is highly alarming.”

“Is this about Remus?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Janus said immediately. “Of course not.”

Virgil and Logan exchanged a Look. Janus groaned.

“Fuck. Ok, fine. Maybe it is.”

“Was that so hard?” Virgil asked. 

“Yes.”

“You-”

“Janus,” Logan interrupted Virgil’s retort. “It is my understanding that emotional distress is often alleviated through, as they say, ‘talking it out.’ It is clear you are not handling the break-up as well as you initially believed-”

“Of course I’m not!” Janus snapped. He took a deep breath, and turned back to the plants on his windowsill. Kaa, the Sansevieria Moonshine Remus had gotten for Janus as an anniversary present last year, was already leaning slightly toward the window again. He rotated it, and a few of the other snake plants on the sill. And then he realized the others had been quiet for far too long. He turned to find them both watching him with sympathetic expressions. “What?”

“Keep going,” Virgil prompted. Janus sighed. He felt exhausted.

“Of course I’m not,” he said again. “Because I love Remus.”

“And?” Virgil prompted.

“...And I didn’t want us to break up,” he finished, feeling glum. Wordlessly, Virgil stood up, and approached Janus, arms out. Janus stepped into the embrace. Nobody said anything; Janus didn’t cry, but he stood there for a long time. Then, he stepped back.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. Virgil gave him a small smile. Logan cocked his head, seeming confused.

“I don’t understand. You just… needed a hug?”

“Hugs are great, Logan,” Virgil replied. “You should try them sometime- hey, where are you going?”

Janus strode past them both, beelining for his bedroom to find his laptop. Over his shoulder, he answered, “To fill out some job applications.”

- - -

Remus was outside building a new bookshelf- because Patton was moving in, and Roman's teenie-tiny sad little excuse for a bookshelf, which held only Disney DVDs and no actual books, wouldn’t suffice for all of Patton’s cookbooks- when his phone rang. Which was weird, because nobody ever called him, because he never fucking answered.

“Not interested, Mr. Spam Man,” he crooned over the sound of the generic iPhone ringtone. He was learning how to do kerf bending for this bookcase, and goddamn it he wasn’t going to be distracted by-

His phone started ringing again. He swore and ripped off his gloves to silence his phone. But as he did so, he realized the number flashing across his screen was a familiar one. 

“Janus? Are you ok?” he answered the call, half panicked, because Janus hated phone calls almost as much as he did.

“Hi. Yes, everything’s fine.” Janus sounded slightly hysterical, which made Remus feel even more frantic. “Where are you?”

“I’m at Roman’s. Are you sure you’re ok-”

“Great, don’t leave. I’ll be right there.”

“What does that mean-” Remus demanded, but the line was already dead. Remus swore again. He briefly considered calling him back, because what the actual fuck was that all about, but he was only about 30 seconds into that brief consideration before a familiar car tearing through the apartment complex parking lot caught his attention. He quickly brushed as much of the sawdust off his clothes as he could because holy shit Janus had just parked right there in front of Roman’s apartment.

Remus watched, dumbfounded, as Janus scrambled out of his car- dressed in his very nice black suit and pale yellow button-up- and came running across the lawn toward where Remus was working. He had a tiny plant clutched to his chest.

“Uh, Jan, you good?” Remus asked. Janus stopped in front of him and doubled over, breathless, for a few moments. Then, he straightened up, and fixed Remus with a look of sheer determination.

“Remus. I want to get back together.”

Remus’ heart, the traitorous bastard, leaped up into his throat and blocked all his words from coming out. 

“It’s… it’s ok if you don’t want that,” Janus continued. His look of determination faltered slightly. “It’s ok. But I needed to tell you. Because I love you, so much. And I… I didn’t want you to think I didn’t, even if you don't-”

Remus found his words abruptly. “Jan, fuck! I do! I do love you. I never stopped loving you. All I want is to be with you.”

Janus’ eyes softened. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Good, because I’ve just been offered a job here.”

Remus choked. Janus was eyeing him smugly. “You. Just like that, you got a job here?”

“Just like that,” Janus grinned. “I just came from the interview. They offered me a position on the spot.”

Remus couldn't help himself any longer. He lurched forward and pulled Janus tightly into his arms.

“Hey, be careful,” Janus said, though he made absolutely no effort to get out of Remus’ embrace. “You’ll crush our new son.”

Remus pulled back just enough to look at the small plant Janus held in his hands, and only then did his brain register what it was. 

“Is! Is that-”

“Yes,” Janus replied, holding up the tiny Drosera Capensis seedling. Remus had wanted one of these for ages.

“For me?”

“Well, for us, ideally,” Janus answered, with a shy smile. “But, mostly for you, yes.”

Remus gently plucked the baby octopus plant- their new son!- from Janus’ hands, and placed it carefully on top of the milk crate that was serving as his carpentry workbench. Then, he hoisted Janus up off the ground and spun him around.

“Oh- Re-” Janus exclaimed, though he was laughing. “Put me down!”

“No!” Remus trilled. He spun Janus around once more. Then he just stood there, holding Janus, gazing up at him. Janus’ eyes grew soft. Slowly, he carded his fingers through Remus’ hair.

“Hey,” Janus said.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Remus set Janus down, but kept his arms still wrapped tightly around him. His heart felt warm.

“Hey.”

Janus looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“I love you, too.” 

#dukeceit #dukeceitweek #remus sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #kye writes