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godslino · 3 months

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PIECE BY PIECE | minho first date series. friends to lovers.

pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 6.2k genre: college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst warnings: drinking, referenced injury (very minor) summary: minho, on a drunken whim, asks you out on a date.

a/n: finally!! the minho part!! i’ve been sooo excited about this one since i first got the idea. i hope you guys enjoy! once again any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading <3

“Dude, I think it’s clean.”

Minho looks up from where he’s scrubbing the counter, eyes narrowed. So what if it’s his third time going over every surface in the kitchen?

“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and make more crumbs?”

Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He holds up his hands in surrender, the bag of chips in his lap crinkling. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like she’s never seen the place before.”

That’s the problem. You’ve seen his place. Minho has to stop the shudder that threatens to overtake his body at the thought.

“So you’re not helping? Great. Get out.”

“I live here!” Jeongin whines. “Why do I have to get out? You can’t banish me like this.”

“I can and I will. Now leave. I have two hours to make sure everything is ready and I am not going to vacuum for a fourth time.”

“Yes mom,” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he unfolds his legs from underneath him.

He stops just short of the kitchen counter, points an accusatory finger at Minho’s disheveled figure still hunched over an imaginary stain.

“For the record, Chan hyung would never do this to me. He loves my crumbs.”

Minho throws the scrub daddy at him.

🏠

The night it happens, all it takes is approximately three shots and a pep talk from Hyunjin for Minho to finally find the nerve to ask you out.

“You’ve got this,” the younger boy says, words slurred, his hands steady on both Minho’s shoulders. The bass thumps loud in the other room, drowned out by the walls of the kitchen until it’s nothing but garbled nonsense going in one of his ears and out the other, vibrations low in his chest.

“I’ve got this.” Minho repeats, the thrum of alcohol already spreading to his fingertips. He feels warm, light on his feet. His limbs are starting to loosen up and his insides are turning to jelly. He might even be floating.

“You look hot.”

“I look hot.”

“She’s gonna say yes.”

“You’re gonna venmo me twenty dollars.”

“I’m gonna venmo you twenty dollars.” Minho parrots before he can even process what he’s saying. Changbin, who’d been watching the entire thing unfold from where he stands with his back pressed against the sink, snorts.

“Wait, what the f—”

“Go get her!” Hyunjin screams, pushing him through the door of the kitchen with one last pat on the back, “And send me my money!”

Minho stumbles over himself, just barely able to stop in time before he goes crashing into a group of people. The living room is crowded: there’s furniture pushed up against the walls, bodies pressed front to back in the middle of the floor, a makeshift DJ stand in the corner where Chan is controlling the music from his laptop, drink in hand. Minho catches his eye from across the room, the glow of the LEDs reflecting off the toothy grin he shoots his way, dimples on full display.

“Hey!” Minho feels someone grab his arm, and he turns to find you staring up at him. “Where’d you go? You said you were gonna get a drink.”

Minho follows your eyes down to where you’re staring at his empty hands. “I—uh, well. I ran into Hyunjin and we took a few shots.”

The pout you give him does nothing but spur on the fluttering of his chest, his brain still hyper aware of the way your hand was resting on his elbow. “Shots? I want shots!” you whine, and Minho has to avert his gaze from staring at your lips when your pout only worsens.

“How much have you had?” he tries to ask over the music. There’s a shitty pop song playing, high pitched and wonky. If he remembers in the morning, he’ll make sure he berates Chan about his DJ-ing abilities.

“What?” you scream back, tiptoeing to bring your mouth closer to his ear.

Minho is only a man. A man who's been in love with you since the moment you accidentally spilled your coffee all over Hyunjin in the quad during freshman year. He remembers that day well, remembers the way your eyes went wide and your lips parted. He also remembers the way he wished it was him with the large wet stain on his shirt, that way it was him that was offered to have his lunch bought as an apology.

He’d never admit it, but sometimes really late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and he’s feeling oddly sentimental, he counts his lucky stars that Hyunjin had been in a relationship at the time. Minho doesn’t know what he would’ve done had he been forced to watch the two of you hit it off—some form of arson, presumably. Anything to take the edge off. But because of the fact that Hyunjin was not trying to have his head cut off by said girlfriend at the time, he invited Minho along as some sort of collateral damage. That’s when the two of you became friends. Kind of perfect if you ask him.

With the jumbled mess of butterflies in his stomach that he gets whenever you’re near him, and the threat of the alcohol slowly seeping through his skin, his brain short circuits the minute your breath grazes the shell of his ear. When your hand follows not long after, fingers gripping the nape of his neck to hold him in place, he almost passes out.

“Min? What’d you say?”

Minho is rendered completely useless by you. Absolutely ruined. Your existence has thrown his entire plan to woo you off course and now his mouth is opening and closing like a badly programmed robot. Pathetic. Nuts and bolts for brains.

By the grace of God (or some other higher being that Minho’s never bothered to believe in until this very moment) he finds his voice, but not before you’re pulling back with a confused look on your face.

“I asked how much you’ve had to drink,” he says, straining against the music.

A saccharine sweet grin that has him seeing stars spreads across your face, “Not enough!”

Minho is not an enabler. Never has been, never will be. There was one time, back in that fateful freshman year that also introduced the two of you, that he let Hyunjin get blackout drunk. A terrible decision on his end, if the earful he got from Chan the next morning was anything to go by. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was finding remnants of the resulting hacking session for the following week. So yeah, never again.

But while Minho isn’t an enabler, he is smitten, and the way your hand feels wrapped around his wrist as you drag him into the kitchen has his soul threatening to leave his body. He thinks that maybe he could do anything as long as you asked. He also hopes you can’t feel the way his pulse is rabbiting beneath his skin, right under the press of your thumb.

“There’s, like, nothing here.” you say as you rummage through the cupboard near the window, nose scrunched and a frown on your face.

Minho laughs, rounds the kitchen island to crouch down and open the cabinet under the sink. “That’s because you don’t know where to look,” he smirks, pulling out a fresh bottle of tequila. “Also, Chan hyung is greedy. He knows people like you will go scavenging his supply if he isn’t careful.”

“I resent that.” you frown, taking the bottle from him. “Besides, people like me deserve to have fun too.”

“Mhm, sure.” Minho says, grabbing a solo cup. He holds his hand out for the bottle, pours just the right amount before sliding it over and following it up with a can of coke.

“A man after my heart.” you joke, holding your cup up to him in a mock toast before downing it in one go. Minho watches with so much focus, fighting against the way his head spins. He doesn’t even know if it’s the alcohol anymore, it might just be the effect you have on him. Dizzying—you flip his entire world on its axis in the best way possible.

Minho’s gonna be seeing your exposed neck in his dreams later, he’s sure of it—it’s branded into his memory.

“That…is so fucking bad.” you giggle, holding your cup out. “Another one.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…”

“Pleaseeee Min,” the lilt in your voice sounds oddly familiar. Minho holds his breath just in case you—yup. There it is. There goes that pout again.

It’d be so easy for him to lean down and kiss it right off your lips. He could blame it on the alcohol, maybe, but then that takes away from how he actually means it.

He sighs instead. “It’s gonna cost you.”

“An arm and a leg?”

“What? No—I meant some water.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Three shots and a full bottle of water later, Minho knows you’ve hit your limit. Cheeks flushed pink, a dopey grin on your face, pupils blown wide. Even in this state, Minho is certain that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Anotherrrr,” you slur, waving your cup in his face.

Minho shakes his head. “No can do. You’re cut off.”

“Please,” you whine, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I’ll do anything.”

Minho, completely taken back by the sudden closeness of your body to his, freezes.

“Anything?” he asks before he can stop himself.

This is stupid. You’re drunk. There’s no way you’re going to remember anything in the morning, much less within the next thirty minutes. He’s pretty sure that you’ll lose control of all your senses soon, which is why he’s already texted your roommate Jiwoo to unlock the door so he can carry you inside. Nothing he hasn’t done before.

“Anything,” you repeat, eyes going cross-eyed where they’re fixing on the mole he has at the tip of his nose.

This is stupid. But then again, so is Minho. A big, stupid fool that blames everything on the fact that he’s so in love with you it hurts. This might be the only chance he gets to shoot his shot.

Minho takes a deep breath, says something similar to a little prayer that’s more like Hey, if anyone’s listening, help a guy out, and hopes that the twenty bucks he sent Hyunjin works.

“Go on a date with me.” he says slowly, wincing when your eyes snap up to meet his gaze.

Well, there’s really no going back from that. The only thing that could possibly grant him redemption now is banking on the fact that you don’t remember anything in the morning.

Minho waits with bated breaths, watches as your eyes search his for a long while. He waits for the anger, the disgust, the visible repulsion that he starts to think might happen the longer the silence continues.

He’s about to backtrack, quickly conjuring up an excuse about how Oh, haha, gotcha! when your hands suddenly drop from his shoulders. You grab the cup, your chin tipped upwards, and hold it out for him to fill.

“Okay.”

“O…kay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Pour me another one.”

The next morning, when Minho all but drags himself into the kitchen in search of water and something to soothe the throbbing in his head, he nearly spits a mouthful at Jeongin, the poor guy too busy eating his cereal to realize he’s gotten a front row seat in the splash zone.

Y/N [10:34am]

when do you want to do that date?

🏠

Are candles too much?

Minho has options: clean linen, lavender breeze, ocean mist, warm vanilla. He really just needs something to get rid of the smell of cleaning spray.

He thought that having a night in for a first date would be ideal—less pressure, no unwanted attention, a bathroom that he can run into when he starts to hyperventilate if you smile at him for too long. But now that it’s happening, he’s convinced that every surface of his and Jeongin’s shared apartment will scare you away if anything so much as looks off-putting.

Minho is, to put it simply, freaking out. All the other times you’ve been over to his place were on a completely platonic level. Movie nights with all the other guys in tow, dropping off food that you felt generous enough to buy every once in a while, one time because you’d accidentally worn Minho’s jacket home from a party and needed to return it to him.

But this is different. This is a date. Minho’s not dreaming—he already pinched himself a dozen times in the bathroom mirror, tiny red marks on the inside of his forearm to prove it. He’s going to open the door, invite you in, cook for you, and then proceed to resist the urge to tell you how beautiful you are for however long the night continues on after that. He can practically hear Jeongin’s laugh in the back of his head, sneering at how pathetic his inner monologue sounds right now.

He needs to find another stain to scrub.

By the time you’re knocking on his door, Minho has changed his outfit seven times. Sweats were too casual, a button up was too fancy. Should he not have done his hair? No, that’s just lazy, the way his fringe is swept up and out of his forehead adds a nice touch that doesn’t scream Hey! I’m trying to woo you! You’ve never been the type to be impressed by grand gestures and shows of confidence anyways, he knows that well.

One time, when a guy from one of the frat houses hired the campus quartet to sing a song for you in the quad as he stood there with big beady eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand, you’d all but ran from the scene, Minho following close behind as you called out to him over your shoulder. It’s one of his fondest memories. As soon as the two of you made it around the back of the science building, you’d doubled over in laughter, the both of you in disbelief at what had happened. Minho has had that information tucked into the deepest parts of his brain ever since, saved just in case he needed it.

(Later that night, in the safety of his own bed, he’d laughed maniacally at the situation. Something about watching you reject another guy filled him with a sense of joy he couldn’t explain. He just hoped he was never going to be on the receiving end of it.)

He does a quick once over of the kitchen: double checks that all the ingredients are out, blows a speck of dust off the glass stovetop, spins the tiny floral arrangement he bought so that it’s sitting at just the right angle. When the doorbell rings, the chime bouncing off the walls of the apartment, he visibly pales.

He has to reel it in, to remember that it’s just you. You might not even be here with any intentions other than to fulfill your end of the deal; one date in exchange for the extra three shots he poured you the other night. Minho takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob with conviction, and decides that he’s determined to show you the way you deserve to be treated. The opportunity is there, and he’s gonna take it.

As soon as the door swings open, every nerve that had somehow crept its way into his brain disappears, the sight of you standing on the other side immediately sending the anxiety scrambling and replacing it with fondness instead.

“Hi,” you smile, and Minho sees images of you coming home to his apartment flash across his mind. After class, after work, in the winter when it’s cold and your nose is tinted pink, on rainy days where the ends of your hair are damp and you have a wet umbrella in tow. He could get used to it. He’s so in love that it hurts.

“Hey,” he breathes out, stepping aside to make way for you, “Come in. Are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually. Been saving myself all day since I don’t always get to have your cooking.” You hop on to one of the stools, your attention momentarily stolen by the flower arrangement. One point for Minho.

I’d cook for you every day, he wants to say. But that’s weird, right? So instead, “Well then I guess today is your lucky day.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” You say softly.

Minho can’t see you with the way his back is turned, hands moving to grab out the knife and cutting board, but if he could he’d see the way your eyes are staring softly at his back, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

Conversation flows easily after that, despite Minho’s original worries about it being awkward. You’re not necessarily treating it as a date, and he isn’t really either. It feels more like a glorified hangout, just the two of you spending time together with the added glances and smiles that normally wouldn’t be there.

Minho finds it easy to get lost in you. He finds himself craving to know more about your day, about the things that’ve been on your mind lately and the hobbies you’ve picked up. Most of the conversation is a continuation of stuff that’s fallen through the cracks during the times you see each other, but he doesn’t miss the way you ask about him too, your eyes shining with genuine interest. It makes his heart slam against his ribcage.

“How are your cats doing?”

Minho looks up from the cutting board, follows your gaze to where it’s fixed on the scattered pictures that litter his fridge. “They’re good,” he says, smiling down at a head of garlic, “My mom sends pictures all the time. She says they claw at the door to my room when they miss me.” He smashes the garlic under the knife’s blade by hitting it with the heel of his palm. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

Minho, in a very flashy demonstration of what it means to be cool, calm, and collected, slices his thumb mid-chop.

“Shit.” he mutters, dropping the knife.

It’s not that bad, just a little nick, the surprise was mostly what scared him. He probably doesn’t even need a bandaid. But despite how small it is, nothing stops you from hurriedly walking up to him and taking his hand in yours, his thumb held closely to your face for inspection.

“Are you okay?” You turn his hand over between your fingers, the soft pads of them against his calloused ones. Minho is dumbfounded, struggling to find the words to say.

“Yeah—um, it’s fine. My fault. I was distracted.” He stammers out, pulling his hand back and holding it up. He wiggles his fingers, making a show of bending and twisting his thumb that, at most, has just a small cut on the side. “See? Perfect.”

Your face relaxes, and then you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Either Minho looks like a complete idiot or he’s suddenly the funniest person in the world for being clumsy and reckless and almost ruining the night by losing a finger. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to hear that sound again.

“Let me help cook, please? I know you said you would do it all but clearly you’re a threat to the integrity of this meal.” You say, bumping your hip against his to move him away from the cutting board.

Minho scoffs. “I wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t catch me off guard.”

“So what? You admit that I make you flustered?”

Oh.

Minho wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for the—the flirting that’s clearly happening. You’re flirting with him, right? Why else would you have called him cute or given him that suspicious side eye after you asked that question?

You and Minho have joked around like this before, but it was always empty with no real feelings attached—as far as he could tell. You’re a naturally friendly person, getting along with others comes easy to you. He’s seen the way you talk to the other guys and has always just assumed he was no different in your eyes than they were. Sure, there were moments where maybe your hand lingered on his arm for a little while after he made you laugh, or the two of you would steal glances across the room. Sometimes when Hyunjin said something stupid you’d both catch the other’s eye and make a face, just another funny way of proving that you were both on the same wavelength most of the time. It’s kind of why Minho is so taken with you—he’s never met anyone that gets him the same way.

Reluctantly, Minho puts his pride aside and allows you to help. And as it turns out, you’re actually really good at cooking. Minho doesn’t have to instruct you much, and before he knows it you’re both working like a well-oiled machine, scooting past one another as you switch places between the stove and the sink, reading each other’s minds without even having to ask.

“Taste this.” You say, holding the spoon up to his mouth. Minho leans forward, front teeth poking out, and brings the spoon into his mouth. You cup your hand under his chin to catch any droppings, watching in anticipation as he smacks his lips together.

His eyes light up, big and brown and twinkling under the light of the kitchen. “Perfect.” He smiles.

“Oh you have—uh,” you stop him with a hand on his forearm just as he’s about to turn back to the sink, your other hand hovering next to his face hesitantly, “It’s just, um, your—here.”

Minho’s eyes go wide when your thumb swipes against the corner of his mouth, your touch feather light. It’s so intimate, the only sound being the music playing low from the speaker on the counter. He’s half convinced that you’re able to hear his heartbeat, blood pumping loud in his ears.

“You had some sauce…on your face.” You say shyly, your palm still pressed to his cheek.

“…Oh.”

Minho’s never really looked into your eyes from this close up before. He’s always known they were beautiful, the shape of them soft, full of nothing but the world. He can see himself in them from here, and, selfishly, he hopes you can see yourself in his, too.

He might be imagining it when your gaze flicks down to his lips for just a fraction of a second, but there’s no time to unpack any of that when the sauce starts bubbling over the edge of the pot, spilling on to the burner as loud sizzling and smoke fills the kitchen.

It’s chaos. The bottom of the pot is burnt and there’s only so much of it that’s salvageable. He only bought the exact amount of ingredients too, because this is a self-proclaimed no-food-waste household (as explicitly stated in the napkin contract he has with Jeongin, much to his dismay). So, hooray for conscious consumption of goods!

At the end of it all, there’s no one to blame. You’re both guilty of…whatever that was.

Minho tries to reassure you that it’s okay as he dials the number for the pizza place just down the street, simultaneously shutting down all your attempts to pay as an apology. It doesn’t matter to him, he’d do anything as long as it means he gets to spend time with you. At the end of the day, it’s another memory that he’ll hold close to his heart.

“Listen,” you say, swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, the both of you seated on his couch with a half-eaten box of pizza open on the coffee table, “I know you wanted to cook and all—which, by the way, I’m still sorry—but this is so good. However I’m sure whatever you made would’ve been better.”

Minho chuckles. “Stop lying,” he wipes his hands on a napkin, “I can guarantee you that whatever I cooked wouldn’t be as good as this anyways.”

“Stop selling yourself short, Min. You’re good at everything you do.”

The words fall from your lips so easily, like it’s something you’ve convinced yourself of long ago. Minho’s never been the type to bounce around from one thing to another, always choosing to stick with it until he has it down to a science. Cooking is one of them. Jeongin can attest to all the times Minho has berated him with tasting his latest dishes, chasing him around the apartment with a spoon. The words tighten themselves around his heart.

“I’m not,” he rolls his eyes, “But nine times out of ten, grease and mozzarella cheese are gonna win. I know that for a fact.”

You laugh, and the conversation gradually diverts into a debate about the top ten best greasy foods in existence. You’re heated, half kneeling on the couch with a finger pointed at him as you plead your case for onion rings, when your eyes go past Minho’s head and settle on the shelf of games in the hallway.

“You have games?” you ask, suddenly giddy with excitement as you hurry over to inspect the selection.

Minho watches with fond eyes, collects the plates and napkins to throw away. “Yeah, most of them are Innie’s. We don’t really use them. Sometimes when we’re drunk, other times when we’re bored and decide to wager money for fun.”

You hum, not really paying attention. Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, some decks of cards, Uno—you scan the shelf until your eyes light up at what you find hidden at the bottom.

“Min! Can we play Jenga?”

“Jenga?” Minho asks, re-entering the living room. The coffee table is clear now, and he sits between it and the couch, his back against the cushion. “Isn’t that kind of boring? We have other stuff there.”

“It’s only boring if you play it the way it’s supposed to be played.” You roll your eyes. Minho turns to you when you situate yourself on the floor beside him and only momentarily contemplates running to the bathroom when your knee knocks against his. He’s been holding it together pretty well so far, however The Sauce Incident had him ready to book it if anything had gone further.

“Well how else are we supposed to play it?” He frowns.

“We make up our own rules.”

The pieces scatter across the wood of the coffee table, clacking as you diligently begin putting them together. “This is a date, right?” You ask, stopping for a moment to turn and assess his response.

Minho stills. He genuinely forgot the grounds on which tonight had even happened in the first place. Spending time with you makes him forget everything else. And, despite his fears in the beginning, being on a date with you has felt so natural that it almost seems like you’ve done it a thousand times before.

Your eyes meet. For a moment, Minho lets himself wonder what it’d be like if he went for it right then and there. “Yeah,” he says slowly, unblinking, hoping you can see the sincerity on his face, “A date. One of the best ones I’ve ever been on, actually.”

He almost cries out in victory when your face flushes pink. “Now who’s a liar?” You ask quietly, going back to piecing together the game.

Minho has learned something new tonight: he really likes seeing you flustered.

“Why do you ask?” he decides to cut you the slack, “Or what does this being a date have to do with Jenga rules?”

He waits as you finish the stack, your tongue sticking out in concentration. You’re so cute. Minho mentally pockets that image for safe keeping.

“Sorry, okay, it’s done. But basically, if we pull out a block, we get to ask the other person a question.”

“And if the tower falls…?”

“Hmm,” you think for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Oh! I know. If you lose you have to tell me why you asked me on a date.”

Minho’s stomach flips. “Okay. If you lose you have to tell me why you accepted the date.”

Something unreadable passes over your face, but it’s gone in an instant. You hold your hand out for a shake, and Minho wraps his fingers around it gently.

“Deal.”

“Why are you taking all of the middle pieces?” Minho pouts.

The two of you have gone through a couple turns by now, throwing out random questions for the better half of fifteen minutes. Favorite colors, childhood foods you wouldn’t eat, the best memory you have from high school. Minho’s learned a lot, has fallen for you a lot more. But that was always a given. It’s impossible not to when he can feel the warmth from your body where you’re seated next to him, your presence overtaking all of his senses.

“Because I’m trying to win,” you laugh, putting your freshly pulled piece at the top. Just a little crooked, too. To piss him off. “Favorite movie?”

“Ponyo. Easy. My turn.”

“Seriously? Why Ponyo?”

“One question at a time, princess.”

He means it as a joke, really. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until after the fact, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. Minho notices, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as he suppresses a smile. He manages to flick one of the side pieces until it gives way.

“What’s one thing you regret?”

“Ooh, getting deep I see.” You laugh, taking a sip of your soda. There’s a long pause, and then, “I regret spilling my coffee on Hyunjin that day.”

Minho’s brow furrows. You…regret it? He runs through all the possible reasons in his head. Surely it can’t be because you regret becoming friends with them, friends with him, right?

“Why?” He chances.

“One question at a time, princess.” You echo, laughing at his shocked expression.

You remove the last middle piece. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”

Minho’s brain is going a thousand miles a minute. “A ten. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He says it fast, wastes no time in moving forward to remove his own piece. He doesn’t even notice that your cheeks have gone pink again, too busy itching to ask his next question.

“Why do you regret spilling your coffee on Hyunjin?”

Minho watches you, lets his mind wander to the worst possible thing you could say in this situation, and mentally prepares to book it to the bathroom.

You take a deep breath, “I regret it because I wasn’t supposed to spill it on him. I was supposed to spill it on you.”

Wait, what?

Minho blinks. “What are you talking about?”

This is humiliating for you. A terrible thing to have to admit. Up until this moment, you’d thought that this information would follow you to your grave. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes, “This is so embarrassing,” you groan.

Minho pulls one hand away. He’s not really sure what to say, mostly because he’s confused, but, “You can tell me.”

“I had…” you start, looking up at him slowly, “A plan. With Jiwoo.” Minho nods for you to continue. “I’d seen you and Hyunjin walking through the quad a few times, and I thought that you were cute, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I did something stupid and decided that I would literally just crash into you. But I fucked it up.”

I thought that you were cute. The words echo in Minho’s ears like a bell. All this time, all those stolen glances and lingering touches, all the ways you would make hope spike in his chest that maybe you felt the same—they were real.

“So you, wait—” Minho shakes his head, “So you’re telling me that all this time…”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Min, really. All this time.”

Minho’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. Free falling—his soul hurtling towards earth at a horrifying speed, slamming back into his body right here in his living room with a force so strong it would knock him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting on the floor. You were interested in him first.

Wordlessly, you lean forward, pulling out a piece with practiced ease. Minho waits with bated breaths.

“Can I kiss you?”

Minho feels like he might pass out. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“You didn’t pull out a piece.”

He scrambles forward, clumsily nudging a piece on the side that ends up sending the entire tower toppling over. You smile at him, soft and sweet. “Looks like you have to pay up with an answer. You know, since you lost.”

Minho doesn’t care. “Because I like you,” he breathes out, “I asked you on a date because I like you. I like you so much, ever since I saw you that day. And, funnily enough, I’ve always wished you’d spilled that coffee on me instead, too.”

The confession feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He’s spent so long pining after you, laying awake at night thinking about how this would go down if he ever got the chance. He never expected for it to happen like this, much less for you to possibly feel the same.

Panic slowly starts to rise in his chest when you don’t respond. He watches as you reach an arm over, build a small tower out of a few pieces, and then knock it over. You turn to him with a small smile, “Oops, I lost too.”

Minho is so in love with you that it hurts.

“I accepted the date because I like you, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”

He doesn’t think twice before he’s surging forward, cupping your face with one hand and kissing you with a tenderness that has you melting into his touch.

There’s no fireworks behind his eyes, no big bang or grand display of whatever it is that happens in the movies. But there’s a warmth, it starts out small in the center of his chest and spreads throughout his entire body, lights his skin aflame and travels all the way to his fingertips. You’re like that. A gentle presence, someone who worms their way into the very essence of his being and burrows into the deepest parts of him, like it was never his to begin with. Kissing you is slow, and deep, and right. He wouldn’t want it any other way. Minho doesn’t ever want to stop.

He lets his other hand fall to your waist, pulls you closer until you’re practically straddling him with his back against the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. Minho lets out a long, drawn out groan when you tilt his head back farther, his lips parting and allowing you to lick inside of his mouth. It’s so good. So good. He can’t believe he ever lived without knowing what this felt like; lived without ever having you this close before.

After a while, Minho reluctantly pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. When he looks up, your eyes are half-lidded. You look utterly debauched, cheeks pink and lips swollen from how hard they’d been pressed against his own. “We should probably slow down.” He tries hard to convince himself, too. “Talk about it all, you know? I don’t—this isn’t a one time thing for me. I don’t want it to be. I like you. I want you to know that.” He says softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand, smiling when he flattens his palm to let your head rest there. “You’re like, so perfect that I want to kiss you until you forget your own name.”

Minho’s ears go red, his head falling forward until it rests against your collarbone. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes you laugh and run a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck fondly.

“This is gonna be so bad now that you say stuff like that.”

“Bad? No, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he whines, but there’s no bite to it. Not when he can look up and press a kiss to your lips. A dream come true. The entire world in his hands, exactly where it was always meant to be.

🏠

In the morning, when Jeongin comes back home, one hand covering his eyes just in case, he calls out,

“Everyone better be dressed! Or else I’m ripping up that napkin and making a new one with No fornicating on the furniture added into the fine print.”

When he doesn’t get a response, he rounds the corner, and finds the two of you nestled into the couch. Minho’s back is pressed into the cushions, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

Jeongin huffs out a laugh, sends a quick text to Hyunjin that reads: Negative. Clothes are still on. But they’re so cute it’s almost sickening.

He snaps a picture to send to the group chat, grabs a piece of cold pizza, and retreats to his room.

Yang Jeongin Fanclub

jeongin: [Attachment: 1 image]

chan: AWWWWWWW

jiwoo: i’m gonna cry

changbin: dude is that the good pizza from down the street?

hyunjin: FINALLY

hyunjin: wait

hyunjin: does this mean i have to send back his $20?

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie ]

#lee know x reader #first date series : minho #lee know fluff #lee know angst #skz x reader #lee know fanfic #skz fanfic #lee know fic #skz fic #lee know fanfiction #skz fanfiction #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #lee know #godslino #first date series

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iluvzaddies · 8 months

Text

meine liebe, mein leben

pairing: könig x wife!reader

warnings: pregnancy

summary: after spending months on the battlefield, könig comes home to find you with a swollen tummy.

könig couldn’t wait to get home to you, his beloved wife. his love, his life. he had been dying to see you, hold you, kiss you and make love to you again throughout the entirety of his mission.

he kept a polaroid of you in his pocket, in case he felt down or if he missed you. seeing your face always made his day better. and whilst he kept a polaroid of you, a heart-shaped locket with a tiny photo of him inside adorned your neck. it was old school and cute.

he was glad you were willing to stay by his side, despite knowing he was in the military and that he would always get deployed. he hated leaving you, but you reassured him about it, saying it was his job.

after what felt like a decade; staying in a town turned into a war zone, keeping civilians safe and protecting them from terrorists, he could finally go home.

on his way home, he felt giddy.

he didn’t notify you of the news because he wanted to surprise you. were you cooking or cleaning right now? should he surprise you by wrapping his arms around your waist? he could imagine your reaction. you would scream at first, thinking it was an intruder, but when you realized it was just your dear husband, you would hug him so tight he could barely breathe.

he opened his and your house with a spare key. unlocking the door, he stepped in and was greeted with a great silence. you weren’t vacuuming the living room, you weren’t cooking in the kitchen, you weren’t eating something in the dining room. he felt slightly disappointed the surprise didn’t turn out like what he imagined in his head, but oh well, you were probably sleeping in the bedroom.

so he headed towards the bedroom and there you were, sleeping soundly on the king-sized bed.

he dropped his gear onto the ground, including his helmet and mask, slowly getting on the bed.

“i’m home.” he whispered into your ear, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

you only hummed in response.

he chuckled.

“(y/n)… meine liebe… i’ve returned.”

you scrunched your face, eyes opening. you were met with the sight of your husband’s handsome face – which you had the privilege of seeing all the time – hovering above your own.

“könig?”

“ja, i’m here. i’m home.”

your eyes widened and you abruptly sat up.

“könig.” you repeated as if you couldn’t believe your eyes. you reached out to touch his cheek, moving your thumb up and down in a slow motion.

you missed him so much. so very much. every single day, you thought about him, if he was doing alright, when he would return, etcetera.

as tears began to well up in your eyes, könig, the ever so loving husband, began to worry and asked, “what’s the matter, meine liebe?”

“i’m just glad you’re home and safe.” you sniffled. “we wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

könig was confused.

“we?” he pointed out.

you nodded. you took his hand, guiding it to your belly, where your child resided.

“y–you’re pregnant?” his eyes looked like they were about to pop out and his jaw about to hit the floor.

“yes.”

“how…” he trailed off, staring at your evident baby bump.

“how far along am i? four months. that’s how long you’ve been gone.” you caressed your belly.

you were worried for a second, thinking he didn’t want a child, but your worries washed away when he pulled you in for a hug and a kiss.

“my baby is having a baby!” he exclaimed excitedly. “i’m gonna be a father!” he was overjoyed with happiness. never did he ever see himself marrying someone and having a baby with them, but look at him now. he was a husband and a father.

you sighed in relief. “i thought you were upset. i was worried for a sec.”

“worried? why?” he was taken aback by your words. he grabbed both of your hands, pulling them towards his face and placing a gentle peck on them. “this is the best moment of my life. i would never be upset about this. you’re my love, my life. meine liebe, mein leben.”

“you’re my love and life too.”

after saying that, you shared one last kiss before dozing off in each other’s arms.

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charmedreincarnation · 10 months

Note

Hello sweetie💌 I accomplished the void last night and I want to share my story with you. Well, first of all I did a few days of self concept (I didn't do anything special, I listened to subliminals and reminded myself that I already have it). In fact, when people said that the self-concept was something important to the void, I didn't take it very seriously, I thought it was a limiting belief. but such an idea came to my mind, I tried not to achieve the self concept void, but to make me realize that I already have what I want. In this process, I really achieved great results, I felt better now, family problems decreased as much as possible, and most importantly, I realized my unlimited power. and here is the day i entered void!!!

It was evening hours, I didn't specifically listen to a meditation or a frequency void subliminal. I lay down on my bed, closing my eyes and concentrating on my heartbeat, just with an idea that I was sure was going to enter a state of emptiness. I relaxed my body, then repeated the familiar affirmations inwardly (like I was in the void) After that, I got to the most important stage, my body started to take off, it was like I was floating in a vacuum. I suddenly realized that the sounds were gone, the flashes of light before my eyes and the darkness that followed were pulling me in. At that moment I realized that I was in void and said my wishes.

My manifests:

• I passed a university exam and it cannot be said that I was that successful. so i first manifest the result i want.

• I added the foods that I had been craving for a few days on a board I created on Pinterest, I wanted them to be in my closet when I woke up.

• 50 kg and my dream body type

• The most beautiful state of my own face, free of all my insecurities

• a pet cat

• Every time I want to just close my eyes and affirm, enter the void in seconds.

• Albums and magazines of all my favorite kpop groups

• some anime manga

• mastering the manifest, the instant reflection of my wishes on my reality

• have a perfect self concept

• that my mother is completely healthy and peaceful

• a laptop, a new tablet, the latest headphones and my dream phone

• large amount of money in my safe for myself

• My dream room and also a closet to put my snacks

I had manifested that all my wishes would come true the moment I woke up. The first thing I did when I woke up was to look at the phone and it was exactly what I wanted! then i got out of bed and looked around my room, it was exactly the same as in my dream! then i checked my new tech and money, they were in place too.everything was exactly how I wanted it! I literally felt like a dream, but it was all real. After I suppressed my excitement, I heard my mother's voice, she was saying that the exam results were announced. I entered the site from the phone and checked my result! I have quite enough and an excellent result for the university I want!

I just want to say, you can achieve anything, my dears! Just discover that limitless power and don't give up no matter what. You don't have a single thing missing from successful people, first realize that. You are in control of your reality and it is up to you to shape it according to your wishes. I will give an example from myself, I had so many problems that I was not even in good health. I overcame all this myself. And now I am very happy, living my dreams. take care of yourself, believe in yourself, believe that what you can do is limitless, respect your achievements. I believe in you.

I’ve gotten so many success stories lately. I won’t post all of them and still don’t plan on coming back but I promise I see them and I’m so happy for y’all even if I don’t post it 💓💖💖💖

#void state #void success #my asks

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thehmn · 1 year

Text

Just some follow up thoughts/responses on my last post.

When I say I’m a cleaner people on the internet often feel like they have to be nice about it but it’s okay. I know it’s seen as demeaning low-paying work in a lot of countries but here in Denmark it’s considered a proper respectable job that pays pretty well. I’m paid way more than people who answer phones at call centers (like when you buy a ticket over the phone) and only slightly less than my sister’s job as a journalist despite her getting a fancy degree. I’m only balancing on the poverty line because my ADHD is keeping me from working full time, but at the same time cleaning is perfect for me. I get to move around a bunch and I don’t work the same place every day.

And the pandemic really made people understand the value of cleaners. At the start of the pandemic most businesses didn’t feel safe having someone like me visit them because I visit a bunch of places and is around strangers all the time. They thought “Yeah it’s not going to be as nice as usual but surely we can swipe our own floors” That lasted all of one month before they changed their minds. People are messy (especially with coffee) so keeping a workplace clean requires dedicated time. Also, so far I haven’t had Covid once because, you know, even cleaners like to stay clean.

Trust me, if you’ve ever had the thought “Oh well, gives the cleaner something to do. It’s their job anyway” after spilling something you might as well start being rude to waiters and cashiers too. We have plenty to do even if nobody ever spilled anything. Do you think the dust just blows away? Or alternatively, have you been wondering why your workplace is so dusty? Might it have something to do with the coffee stains on the wall that keep disappearing? Cleaners aren’t talked about a lot in conversations about treating essential workers better because we usually show up after you go home but that doesn’t make it any less rude.

And talking about essential workers, remember that list that made the rounds on the internet during the pandemic of what jobs should be considered essential and non-essential and how people got really up in arms about artists being on the non-essential side? As someone who literally got half my pay from cleaning and the other half from working as an artist at the time, my job as a cleaner was a 100% more important during a pandemic. “But people are stuck indoors. They need entertainment for morale and not going stir crazy” I’m sorry but there’s an almost limitless well of entertainment on the internet you haven’t consumed yet. Yeah, I want to see (and make) new art too but trust me, it would mean nothing if we had to walk around in filth. There are a lot of other situations where artists would be more important than cleaners but a pandemic ain’t it.

And finally, I kept saying robot cleaner instead of Roomba in my last post because Roomba is a brand name. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Roomba in the wild despite seeing loads of robot vacuums.

Have a lovey, hopefully clean day ✨

#humontalks #cleaner

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pet-slut-chrissy · 4 months

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i knew i was getting a second Christmas gift from Mistress @owner-of-pet-slut-chrissy, and yesterday She let me open it.. a leather bondage hood with 2 eye hole rings, a 3rd mouth hole ring and with a blindfold, 4 inch penis gag and neck strap, all lockable. i was dressed to please Her in my stretchy shiny black bodycon dress and black ankle boots, and i was already horny from some intense teasing She had given me earlier and the lush was still in me. i was both very excited and nervous as i opened it and saw and felt the smooth black leather and serious looking straps buckles and laces.. We set it on the table next to my play collar and started getting ready. She thought i needed a tail too so we added my inflatable plug and gave it a couple of pumps. Next was to test the penis gag but not in my mouth as i was expected but slid into my wetness, Mistress knew i wasnt collared which i must have on for any orgasms and purposefully made me bounce excitedly on the penis gag buckled round the chair as if it was buckled round her thigh. i bounced imagining being on her lap made to show her how happy i was with my second gift it wasn’t long before i was ready to explode for her....but always playing on my mind no collar no orgasm. After a bit of playing with my clit, it was sucked into the vacuum tube and my wand harness was strapped on over with the hitachi wand. The wand was not turned on yet but i was already whimpering when we went to get the hood. It was one of the most intense submissive feelings i’ve had as i put it on, tightened the laces and buckled the neck strap, yet it almost turned to panic when Mistress had me put on my play collar over the hood and timer lock it on for one hour.. a full hour! i almost came as the lock clicked shut, trapped. Then when the wand turned on i did explode in an amazing orgasm almost immediately. She let me have a few more orgasms over 15 or 20 minutes as She had me looking at myself in the mirror, being down on all fours wagging my tail, pulling my breasts out and putting on nipple clamps, then locking the penis gag in place which smelt and tatsed of my juices intoxicating then She said it was time for my favorite game, A-Z (She starts by making a sentence with the letter A such as “chrissy loves her ANAL toys” then i have to make a sentence with B, then we go through the whole alphabet with me trying not to cum) It’s so hard on me trying to think when the wand is going, and She told me that for every orgasm i had before we got to Z i would spend 5 minutes with the blindfold locked on after the game.. She was kind and kept the wand on low for most of the game but turned it up near the end. i tried my hardest yet still came 3 times including one as i was doing my last sentence.. we had been going for almost 45 minutes at that point so i knew i would have the blindfold locked on for the last 15 minutes.. She had me switch out the hitachi for my battery wand set to pulses (which are deadly for me), set a timer lock for my wrist cuffs for 15 minutes, then the blindfold on and my wrists locked behind my back.. oh, and She told me i was to have as many orgasms as possible. It was amazing, feeling like nothing but a faceless fucktoy sex object cuming over and over, the 15 minutes seeming to go by both slowly and fast.. when the locks finally opened She turned off the wand and lush and we removed the blindfold gag and collar and took my hood off. i was trembling and panting, i looked in the mirror and saw that i looked like a wet completely used slut, hair and makeup destroyed and feeling totally spent. (i don’t think i could possibly have cum again but have learned not to tell Her because She sometimes takes it as a challenge). Thank You so much my Mistress, for both Your wonderful gift and another incredible playtime

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braidlottie · 5 months

Text

christmas in july.

pairing: pool boy!transmasc!reader x milf!shauna shipman

summary: you’ve been cleaning ms. shipman’s pool for quite sometime now, even having a friendship with her. you never would’ve thought what happeneds when you stepped foot into her pool one night.

tags: smut, 18+, nsfw (minors dni), reader has his own pool business, reader has top surgery, shauna is divorced :3, pool sex, clit play, oral sex (shauna receiving), shauna has a christmas tree in the middle of july (you’ll see why), brief smoking (from callie and shauna)

wc: 1.8k

sorry i didn’t know how to end this fic pls Forgive me!!!!

life couldn't be better for you right now. you were out of college for the summer, and your pool business was booming. you always loved this time of year, you got a shit ton of money, and you just loved seeing little kids' faces when their parents tell them the pool’s clean. but there was one house that you absolutely love going to, you never pass up a chance to go there.

mrs. sadecki’s house.

well, ms. shipman’s house. you forgot she recently got a divorce over the spring, just leaving her and her daughter alone in that big, suburban house. you never really knew why they separated, but it was none of your business anyway, though you missed seeing the two together. mr. sadecki was always very kind to you.

parking your van on the curb, you grabbed all your supplies, like your chlorine tablets and your leaf skimmer. you walked up the porch step and rang the doorbell. “coming!” you heard ms. shipman’s voice echoed from outside the house, and it took for her to answer. “oh, honey, i’m so sorry, i just got out of the shower.” she opened the door, in a robe and wet, dripping hair. you told her it was fine, and she let you in. she kept apologizing for leaving you out in the hot sun, and offered you some lemonade outside.

you went out the back door to the pool and got to work, checking the pH levels, changing the pool filter, and even going back to your van for your vacuum to get some debris off the pool floor. your tank top came off while doing so, so you wouldn’t get it wet while vacuuming. you were at it for about thirty minutes before ms. shipman came back to check on you, a pitcher of lemonade in one hand, and two, tall glass cups in the other. she set them down on the patio table and pulled out two chairs. she couldn’t take your eyes of your chest, the water droplets trickling all the wall down to your-

“mrs. sadecki?” your voice brought her out of her trance.

“i’m just about finished, mrs. sadecki. oh- i mean, ms. shipman.” you cursed at yourself for the mistake. “that’s alright, honey, and i told you to start calling me shauna. all that ‘mrs’ stuff makes me feel old.” she poured you a cup of lemonade, passing it to you as you sat down.

“it looks beautiful, callie’s gonna love it,” she smiled, taking a sip of the cold beverage. “i made you a little kit, until next time. put some of this shock in there once every week so you can get rid of the bacteria. and your own little leaf skimmer so you can get all the bugs and leaves out and what not.” you pointed at the supplies next to you.

“thank you, that’s so sweet. oh, how do i keep the possums from getting in?”

“oh yeah, i got you a tarp, just lay it flat right over it at night, and you’re good to go.”

shauna smiled and nodded, ever so grateful for somebody like you, taking care of her pool. the two of you sat and talked for another twenty minutes when you realized it was around that time that you went to get something for lunch. it was almost like shauna didn’t want you to go, so she proposed something you never would’ve thought of. “are you free tonight?”

your eyebrows raised in surprise. “sure, what time?”

“around 7. i wanted you to join me and callie for dinner today. just as a thank you.” shauna got up from her chair, her hands behind her back timidly. “but, i’ve been cleaning your pool for a while now, shauna. i’m just doing my job.” her shyness began to shed off onto you now.

“i know, but i never really formally thanked you. c’mon, please?” shauna couldn’t believe she was begging to her pool boy right now. “well, i’ll be there. thank you, shauna.” she smiled back at your response, watching you grab your things and leave.

***

you came back, just “around 7” like shauna told you too, the sun was setting and shauna’s daughter, callie, was sitting on the porch swing, taking a hit from her vape. she saw you get out and walk up to her.

“sup?”

“sup.” you replied, putting your hand on your hip, your keys jingling in your hand. you’ve had a few interactions with callie before, except they were just awkward smiles and waves.

“your mom know you have that?” you gestured at the pen.

“no. are you gonna tell her?”

“nah, not today.” you smirked. the girl sniggered at that.

there were a few more seconds of silence before she got up to go back in the house. “i can’t believe my mom let the pool boy come to dinner. she must really like you.” she left the door open for you to walk in behind her.

“you’re back! and you changed.” shauna came to greet you, noticing that your swim trunks were different, and you had on a t-shirt with your company name on it. “of course, i did. didn’t want to come to dinner smelling like chlorine.” she chuckled at your joke. “woah. why is your christmas tree still up?” you admired the beautiful red, silver, and green ornaments strung along the branches.

“ever heard of christmas in july?”

“i didn’t even know people celebrated that.” you shrugged and callie scoffed. “that’s my mom, celebrating every holiday known to man. like, how are you from new jersey and you celebrate boxing day?” the younger girl scoffed.

“enough from you, help me set the table.” shauna scolded. you got a kick out of the duo, seeing them bicker back and forth about the most random holidays.

***

the three of you had just finished dinner, callie going up to her own room after saying goodnight. shauna let you stay for a while, sitting by the pool with you. the night air was cold against your legs.

you saw shauna pull out a box of cigarettes from her pocket, with a lighter as well. the lighter clicked a few times before she successfully lit the cigarette. she held out the box to you with a raised brow.

“oh, no, i don’t smoke.” you shook your head and smiled nervously. “ever since i left jeff, i started smoking these. i need to quit it though. i can already feel myself staring to shrivel up.” she scoffed, and you laughed again. looking up at the stars.

the two of you sat in the patio chairs the conversation g when shauna put out her cigarette and stood up. “wanna go for a swim?” she slipped off her cardigan, placing it on the chair. “i really shouldn’t.”

“aww, come on. just this once?” she kicked off her sandals. you twisted your lips in second guessing, shauna giving you a pleading look. “just for a little.” you smirked, and she smiled.

since you were already in your swim trunks, you just took of your shirt, leaving you in a tank top. you thought shauna would do the same, but when you turned around, she was already in the pool.

naked.

you gulped, not even realize how hard you were staring until shauna said something. “don’t be shy, honey.” you stepped down the pool stairs, teeth chattering at the coldness of the water mixed with the night air. you dunked your whole body in, even your head. you stayed under for a while before coming to the surface, wiping the water from your face.

“it feels amazing.” she ran her hands through her wet hair. you stood on the pool floor, trying to adjust your swim trunks, that have been feeling a little too tight ever since you got in. your rock hard nipples poking through your white tanktop. it was shauna’s turn to stare now.

“you okay?”

“yeah, sorry.” you looked up at her again, but your eyes went straight to her breasts. “my eyes are up here, sweetheart.” she spoke seductively. your eyes met hers, and she giggled at your expression. she swam closer, making you back up against the pool wall.

her finger went to your left nipple, twisting and pinching it over your tank. your breathing got heavier and heavier, her brown eyes looking up at yours.

“ms. shipman, we shouldn’t-”

“i know you want this. you’ve always had your eyes on me for too long, even before i divorced jeff.”

“wha- no, what are you talking about?” you sputtered. “i wouldn’t do that to mr. sadecki.”

shauna had a “you sure about that?” look on your face, and you knew she was onto you.

she was onto you the whole time.

she giggled at your reaction, so embarrassed but surprised. “naughty boy.”

her hands were snaking further down to your trunks, fingers still grazing over your nipple. “oh, shit.”

“want me to touch you?”

you nodded and shauna’s hand slipped down your shorts, fingers rubbing your engorged clit in small circles. you moaned, tipping your head back in pure bliss.

“you better be quiet. you don’t want my daughter up there to here, do you?” shauna pointed up at callie’s window, seeing that her bedroom light was still on.

“n-no- fuck- i’m sorry.” you bit your lip, trying to supress another small whine of desperation. “shauna, fuck.”

“such a dirty mouth for a sweet boy like you.” she smirked, applying more pressure to that little bundles of nerves. she knew you were close. and she wanted to make you come hard.

“fuckfuckfuck- i’m gonna cum,” you hips thrusted into shauna’s hand, shying away from her eyes. you groaned, muffling it with the back of your hand.

“that’s it, honey.” she whispered, wiping the trickles of water look from your face. after you catch your breath, your hands go to shauna’s waist, backing her against the pool wall now. she finally kissed you, moaning breathlessly into your mouth. “i wanna taste you.” you said hungrily, making shauna sit on the the edge on the pool for you.

you spit on your hand before rubbing over shauna’s clit, getting a low yet desperate moan from her, inhaling sharply when your tongue swirled against it. “fuck, baby!” she holds your head closer, squeezing it between her thighs. “oh, baby, i’m gonna cum so fucking hard. keep going for me.” her teeth gritted as she cursed.

she gasped, hurling forward and muscles spasming as she came on your tongue. she wiped a tear from her eye, the overwhelming feeling hitting her so hard. she’s never had sex this good. even when she was married to jeff.

“well, that was something else.” she struggled to stand, her legs a little shaky. she walked back to the patio chair, putting her clothes back on her wet body. you also got out as well, just lifting yourself up to sit on the edge.

“i’ll see you next week? y’know, for the pool?”

“uh.. yeah, yes you will.” you sniffed, shauna just smiling at you adoringly. hopefully it’s just for the pool, right?

part of you hoped it wasn’t.

#finalgirlmeeks fluffmas/kinkmas ‘23!#shauna sadecki x reader #shauna shipman smut #shauna shipman x reader #adult shauna #shauna shipman #shauna sadecki #shauna yellowjackets #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader

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cumikering · 2 months

Text

Werewolf Keegan x reader 9 (end)

1.7k | fluff Well, yes, but if a wolf runs around unattended, they’re going to call animal control (part 1)

Keegan made good on his promise that he’d clean up after himself.

With the way he loved to cuddle you as a wolf, even the biggest lint rollers wouldn’t suffice so he compensated by vacuuming your place every day. But not without giving Raider the side eye, because of course he had to help out. Some of the fluff was his too after all.

You really spoilt him, didn’t you? The K9 only watched his handler as he panted among the avalanche of chew toys you got him (his favourite was still the phone one though), and wouldn’t even clean his own dog bed with the lint roller.

Keegan took a two-week leave to take care of Raider who was anticipated to take a few months to recover before he could get back in the field. Fortunately, he was healing fast, already standing the week after and moving about.

Keegan decided to crash at your place meanwhile. ‘It’s closer to the vet hospital,’ he reasoned, but he knew you knew it was more than that. You said you didn’t mind as long as he kept the floof in check.

It felt natural to be around you like this. Driving you to and from work, cooking dinner with you, watching the TV after. It was hard to believe he lived so long without this, believing he was perfectly happy too.

And to think this all started with his curse.

His wolf had never been happier too, being in your space. Head empty, no thoughts, just his peanut as he drifted off to sleep.

You said it was strange the first few times he spooned you in bed as a wolf and suddenly shifted back when he lost his consciousness to sleep. The floof disappeared in a split second, replaced by his heavy arm around your waist which startled you.

Even that he was hesitant at first, he was pleasantly surprised with how welcoming you were to his peculiarity. Like when he approached you with hot cheeks a few days into staying at yours.

“Peanut,” he said in a small voice, eyes not meeting yours. “Would it be okay, if maybe, you can play tug of war with me?”

Your brow rose.

“I mean, it’s totally fine if not! It’s just I need exercise and Raider can’t play yet,” he rambled.

“Of course! We can play fetch too if you want.”

His eyes brightened, thinking of that time when his first instinct was to run after the toy you threw for Raider. “Oh, I’ve never tried that before, but that sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“We can have a run at the park too, so we don’t have to go on a hike. If you’ve got an owner, no one’s going to call animal control on you.”

He tilted his head. “I am not going to be leashed.”

“But can you imagine how big of a tranquiliser dart they’re going to use on your wolf otherwise?” You stifled a laugh. “Probably as big as my forearm.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. You knew he wasn’t a fan on needles. “We’ll go hiking when Raider’s better.”

Your laugh always made him happy, like when he pulled the rope toy too hard on purpose to wrestle you on the floor. You never won against the giant wolf no matter how much you tried, and he was glad of it because he loved nuzzling you from above, your giggles filling the room.

He sent his mum pictures of the both of you, some of your cooking too, always thrilled at every opportunity to say you were his. He was to visit her with you when Raider got better, but meanwhile video calls would have to do.

“Aw, look at the both of you! Aren’t you adorable, sweetie?” his mum cooed, the phone a little too close to her face.

“She’s a cheek pincher,” Keegan said. “Here, I’ll do it on her behalf.” He reached over to pinch you lightly.

Mrs. Russ laughed. “I hope you’re feeding him well. He eats like he’s still growing, but can barely cook. Make sure he does the dishes at least!”

You let out a chuckle.

“She does! She makes the best PB sandwiches.” It was true - they were better than his and he didn’t understand why. “When we visit, she’ll make you some.”

His mum was not a werewolf nor was she a fan of PB, but he firmly believed the love for it would transcend all.

Before Ghosts’ next mission, he took you out to meet his teammates for dinner. You were a little bashful from all the attention you got when they tried to get to know you. Especially from Ajax and Kick, who were mostly baffled by how you could spare “the creepy, frowning guy” a second glance.

“I can get you an angel shot,” Ajax said.

“Blink three times if you need help,” Kick whispered.

Regardless the teasing, Keegan grinned at the fact he got to call you his peanut.

However, the closer it was to the 7th full moon, Keegan grew restless, but not because of his urges. With how well and fast you fit into his life, he couldn’t even remember what it was like without you. He was terrified he bond wasn’t going to work and he’d lose everything again.

He didn’t doubt your feelings, even that he had to admit he felt clingy sometimes, wanting you to tell him how much you felt towards him. He was glad you never complained, but was kind regarding his needs, taking care of him.

The night of the full moon, he took you out on a date, somewhere special with a live cello player. At your door, he presented a bouquet of your favourite flowers. He made sure it was bigger than the one Blake sent and that the card didn’t fall off (not like you needed it since he brought it over personally). A little petty, he had to admit, but he had to show you he was cooler than your uni friend and could survive far more than a few punches.

You dressed up, your hair done, smelling wonderful and he couldn’t keep his hands off you. His peanut. Fuck, he still couldn’t believe you were his. Under the clothed table, he squeezed your knee.

The hours rolled past as you enjoyed the haunting performance, his arm along the back of your seat while your hand rested on his thigh. He started bouncing his leg, something he almost never did.

“It’s going to work.” You squeezed his thigh.

“I’m not worried,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes fixated on the cello player.

“You won’t be a wolf. We’ll visit your mum and have her cooking, and you’ll show me your band poster collection, okay?”

He gave you a crooked smile, hand gripping yours.

Outside, the moon beamed bright against the cloudless sky. Fresh out of the shower, you sat in bed next to him, his chest bare, soft from the hot water, lower half under the comforter. The bedside lamp shed enough light to illuminate the way your lips pulled into a thin line. His arms wrapped around you and you let out a shaky breath against him.

“You can tell me to stop any time, and… Just in case.” He reached for his blade on the nightstand, handing it to you. “I love you, okay?”

You nodded and he peeled off the comforter that covered him before shifting. You bared your neck to his wolf, brows furrowed as your eyes closed.

He whimpered, nuzzling your neck. I love you, peanut.

“Okay, I’m ready,” you mumbled.

He puffed out steady breath before positioning his fangs on your neck, feeling you shudder under him. You gripped his mane, yelping when he sank into you. Your blood was the best thing he’d ever tasted, and with your addicting scent filling him, it was too easy to stay put, but he shifted back immediately.

“You did good, peanut.” He kissed the corner of your eyes where tears had pricked. “Now we wait.”

In the dead of night, he jerked awake, breathing heavily. With the movement, you woke too.

“You okay?” You rubbed his chest, fingers ever comforting through the fuzz.

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “Yeah, I think. Did you have a dream?”

“We were in the woods, at full moon.”

He held his breath as his heart raced.

“Your wolf and I were walking to the cabin in the distance. I was barefoot-“

“In a white dress,” he said under his breath.

You nodded, beaming.

“It worked.” He chuckled in disbelief, gripping your shoulders. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Your arms wrapped around him. “We’re mates now, Keegan. For life.”

Months later, Raider fully recovered and was back in the field with his handler. You and Keegan got a new place between your old places, somewhere without carpeted floors because he’d grown sick of the vacuuming. Life slipped into a rhythm.

He took you to his home and greeted his mum with a kiss on the cheek. You said her lasagna was as great as he always hyped it up to be. Much to his chagrin, she was swift, and vey excited, to show you his childhood photos. He groaned. The memory of him rocking a bowl cut for the entirety of primary school was humiliating, but with a giggle, you reassured he looked cute with his signature icy stare. He didn’t believe you.

Keegan carried your luggage up the stairs with Raider padding behind, nails clicking against floor. His mum never changed a thing in his bedroom since he left, his emo band posters still almost lined the entirety of the walls. He stared at the one behind the door and contemplated if you’d like him in one of those haircuts. There would be more to pat after all (and it surely wouldn’t be as hideous as a damn bowl cut).

At bedtime, in his cramped bed, you huddled facing each other.

“I guess we should have stayed at a hotel after all.”

He shrugged. “You know, if we were both wolves, we would fit perfectly fine here.”

You smiled, tracing your neck where his bite marks had faded. “Actually, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all.”

Thank you so much everyone for reading my silly doggo story! I had mad fun writing this and I'm glad you stuck around until the end :D take care x

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mangoguy @astraluminaaa @shadowlali @eve-lie @reelovesfictionalmen @writeforfandoms @milkteaarttime

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buckybabieboy · 1 year

Note

You’re five are so good!! EXACTLY what I’ve been looking for!!! I just read your list of headcanons and I would LOVE a full length fic about what happened the first time he got overstimulated and used his safe word (and all of that lovely aftercare that followed). If you have time of course, no pressure!

I'M BACK!!!!! and you are so sweet babie, made me smile🥹. thx for your request and I hope you like ur fic <3

Plum. (Pt. 1)

⚠️TW: (please read!): SO MUCH NSFW!!! LIKE 2 AND 1/2 ROUNDS LMAO, sub!inexperienced!bucky, dom!fem!reader, a little bit of a mean!reader, thigh riding!!, overstimulation(m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, mentions of subspace, mommy/mama kink, use of “y/n”, bucky calls you "babe" once or twice, use of safeword, TONS of aftercare <3

☁️Summary: After a bad day outside and an incident with Bucky, you catch an inexperienced!bucky pathetically humping your pillow. Your sadistic thoughts cause you to get carried away. Bucky's up to it at first, just wanting you to make him feel good. But as the night goes on he begins to realize he was in over his head. (Bucky’s first time being overstimulated and uses safeword!!)

📝 Important A/N!!: I exceeded my character limit (lol). I had to divide this whole fic into two parts, so pls stay tuned for part 2 (dropping soon)! Part 2 will be where the actual overstimulation takes place. Also I added thigh riding because it just made the whole plot imo😩. THERE IS SO MUCH FUCKING DETAIL IN HERE I LOWKEY OVERDID IT LMAOOOO

Traffic is the bane of your existence. You’re usually a very patient person, but when you’re stuck behind ten cars and a red light that just won’t seem to turn green, your patience suddenly becomes none.

There were a million things you wanted to accomplish before the day was finished. Your laundry and Bucky's still needed to be washed, and no matter how many times you reminded Bucky how the washing machine worked, he would continue to give you that bewildered and helpless face, leaving you to do it by yourself. On top of that, you left the apartment a mess. You secretly hope Bucky cleaned around the house while you were gone, though you weren’t counting on it.

Horns blow from different cars amongst the street, as if that would speed the agonizing waiting process up. You let out a huge sigh of relief when the light turns green, finally making your turn to your apartment complex. Once you’ve parked the car, you trudge your way to the apartment. Before unlocking the door, you make an effort to collect yourself so you don’t take you anger out on Bucky.

You can’t stop yourself from letting out another sigh in relief; you were finally home from your long and rough day outside. And to your surprise, the apartment is now squeaky clean. The floor had been swept and vacuumed, and was shined from being mopped. Dropping your purse on the kitchen counter, you kick of your shoes and let your hair down from the tight ponytail it’s been in all day.

“Bucky, I’m home!” You call out as you scavenge the pantry for a snack. Not even a second later, footsteps were coming towards you, and before you can even open your bag of chips, Bucky has dashed to your side and was holding you tight in his arms.

“y/n, your back!”

“hey, Jamie!” You plaster on a smile, trying to reciprocate his energy. His face is still buried in your neck, his hands tangled in your hair.

“missed you.” Bucky whines as he inhales the scent of your perfume. “why’d you have to leave me every day?”

Bucky was clinging to you as if he hadn’t seen you in years. His clinginess was undoubtedly caused because of Steve. He hadn’t been the same since he left, and you understood this better than anyone. You try to relax in his embrace, and allow him to hold you for as long as he needed.

“I'm not even gone for that long, Bucky.” You giggle as you try to enjoy the one good part of your day. “c’mon, let me get changed. I’m tired and had a really rough day.” You whisper to him softly. He nods and begins to free you from his arms.

“ow!” You wail suddenly, scrunching your face in pain. Multiple strands of hair had gotten caught on Bucky’s vibranium arm.

“sorry! let me just-” Bucky tries to disconnect your hair from his fingers, but only makes the situation worse by tangling them deeper towards your scalp.

“Bucky, just stop it!”

You drop your unopened bag of chips on the counter before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bathroom mirror. You begin untangling his fingers from your hair slowly, letting out a wince every so often, but finally managing to free his metal fingers from your hair.

“Y/n, didn’t meant to-”

“s’fine. just gonna brush my hair now.” You exhale before grabbing the brush and detangling your hair. Although you’d never show it to your very oblivious Bucky, this was your last straw today. You slam the bathroom door in his face in a fit of anger. Ignoring how badly you immediately felt afterwards, you attempt to calm yourself down.

“It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault.” You tell yourself as you struggle to comb out the knots in your hair. After you finished with your hair and wash up, you quickly pass through the bedroom, catching a quick glance at Bucky before you pass. He’s sound asleep on the bed, sprawled out like a dog on your sheets. Clad in only briefs, his pale and plush thighs were exposed just for you to see.

Trying to stop your mind from wandering into other places, you decide to use this time for yourself to forget about the unfortunate day you’ve had. Without another thought, you throw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and turn on some Adult-Swim, doing your best to cloud your mind.

You must’ve been there for over an hour, because before you knew it, it was already 8:00 pm. A yawn escapes from your throat as you clean up and head to your bedroom.

You’re about to open the door when you hear what sounds like faint moans coming from the other side, along with rhythmic creaks from the bed.

As you lean your ear against the door and listen for Bucky's pitiful whimpers, filthy and nasty thoughts start to flood your mind. You open the door a crack, just enough to see Bucky frantically rutting his bare cock against your pillow, which cemented your suspicions. The sight was truly pathetic. His boxer briefs were slung around his ankles, and his brown hair clung to his sweaty forehead. He continues to fuck your pillow without noticing you, obviously too concentrated on trying to cum.

You enjoyed your Adult-Swim, but this, this was a show for you. A sight for your extremely sore eyes. You were honestly at a crossroads here, almost not wanting to intervene. Just let him fuck himself on the pillow you sleep on every night, even though he obviously didn’t know what he was doing. His movements were sloppy and lazy, indicating that he’d been at this for a while.

“dammit!” He whines as he falls lip onto your pillow, finally giving up. He continues to whine and whimper into it, still grinding ever so slightly onto the sheets. You watch him closely, noticing how desperate he looks, exhausted and frustrated because he just couldn’t seem to make himself cum.

“awh…poor baby.” You interrupt as you open the door and enter the room. Bucky immediately stops his movements and stares at you like a deer in headlights. “couldn’t do it by yourself?”

“tryin…” Bucky whines, head faced down at his painfully hard cock which was twitching against your pillow. “shit… just can’t do it like you can, babe..”

Bucky picks his subtle but noticeable thrust against your pillow again, looking at you with teary eyes. You slowly make your way to the bed and grab his face with both hands and kiss his plush lips. His big blue eyes look up at you as he gives you a meek smile.

You give him one more kiss. “I’ll bet I could do a better job than this pillow, don’t ya think?”

Bucky nods in agreement, immediately throwing the pillow to the side and kicking off his briefs as you settle yourself on the bed and against the headboard. Bucky stares at you with anticipation, waiting for you to tell him what to do next. With two flicks of your pointer and middle finger, he’s crawled to your side in an instant.

“on my lap, lovie.” Your sultry voice commands, and Bucky does exactly what you tell him. His plush thighs have settled against both sides of your left thigh, and he settles his bum on your lap.

You graze your fingers lightly up and down his red and stiff cock, causing a breathy whine escape his throat.

“m-mommy, please don’t tease me like that… been w-waiting f’you all day…” Bucky whimpers shakily, hips bucking up at your movements. “hah- n-need more!”

A smirk creeps it’s way onto your face. He was so fucking adorable when he’s begging you to make him feel good. So adorable that you couldn’t help but tease him a little before giving him what he wants.

“how bad, hm?” You tease, fingertips dragging down to his balls, giving them a tight and sudden squeeze. Bucky’s mouth falls agape, and his eyebrows furrow upwards as he yelps at the sudden sensation.

“s-so bad, f-fuck!” His voice only gets whinier after your taunting.

“hmm… I don’t think you want it bad enough, darlin.”

Bucky watches your face with watery eyes, noticing your sadistic smile never disappear.

“n-no! please babe, want it- need it so bad!” He bucks his hips towards you, desperately searching for any sort of friction. His cock pulses under your fingertips, which are still softly grazing it up and down. Your face remains cold and unamused, as if his tears weren’t enough to convince you.

Bucky shakily takes your fingers, rubbing them on the tip of his cock, gathering as much precum he can with your fingers.

“s-see? d'you see, mama? l-leakin' so much for you. jus' gimme somethin', anythin' please...”

You knew you were being cruel by making him wait this long, but he looked so pretty begging for you to make him cum. The fact that he only depended on you to make him orgasm made your pussy throb. And as he so pathetically told you before, he just couldn’t do it like you can. He definitely didn’t have half the sexual experience you did, and still couldn’t even jerk himself off enough to get himself to cum.

“and what if it’s too much f’you? don't want you to get overwhelmed.” You question, placing your hands on both of hips, receiving a pleading look from Bucky.

“I asked you a question, Jamie.” You shoot him an alluring and voluptuous look with wide eyes, but Bucky just couldn’t meet your gaze. His eyes were shut closed, his face contorted in desperation.

“hah- d-don’t care… just do somethin’- nngh!”

Bucky starts, but interrupts himself with a pathetic whimper when he feels you grip harder onto his hips, slightly nudging them back and forth. His cock twitches as all of his pre-cum leaks onto your bare thigh, creating a slick and pleasurable mess for him to fuck himself on.

“a-ah, f-fuuckk…” a long whine makes its way from Bucky’s throat, his eyes rolled back. “please, mommy… can’t keep doin' this to me…”

“you wanna cum?”

He immediately nods his head up and down.

“go ahead then, pretty boy. fuck yourself against mommy's thigh.”

“wha..? n-no I-I can’t-”

“It’s my thigh or nothin’ Jamie.”

Bucky remains quiet for a little while but softly nods his head in agreeance.

You release your hold on his hips, curious to see how he will do on his own. Bucky starts to frantically rutt up against your thigh. His lack of rhythm causes you to think back to how you found him earlier. Your helpless little baby was in too much of a hurry to cum to get himself there.

“goddamit, I-” Bucky whimpers as his movements come to a stop and he punches the bed in defeat. “I don’t know how… please show me…”

Tears are streaming down his cheeks as he does his absolute best not to make eye contact with you. It was humiliating enough to have to ask you to make him cum.

Finally deciding to have some mercy, you begin to rock his hips back and forth, slow and steady against your thigh.

“ha-d-don’t stop, please…” His eyes are rolled back, little grunts escaping from his pink, parted lips. His metal hand holds onto your shoulder while the flesh one grips harshly onto the white bed sheets.

“you look so pretty fucking yourself on my thigh, baby. that’s it…keep goin’, don’t stop…"You coo at Bucky, who continues to desperately go at it on your thigh. Once he’s found rhythm, you let go of his hips and watch him.

Your praises must have motivated him some more, because his thrusts increased in speed, causing the whole bed to rock in unison to his frantic movements. His dog tags do the same, clashing into each other and swaying in tune with him.

The way Bucky's cock twitches and pulses against you is almost as if it is pleading for release. Even though it feels incredible, being inside of yourself will always be superior. The comforting, smooth feeling of your walls is unrivaled by anything. However, he keeps rutting against you in an attempt to get the relief he has been chasing all day.

Bucky’s grunts and pants above you. The sounds coming from him become more high-pitched with each jerk of his hips. The feeling of his warm pre-cum against the smooth skin of your thigh was driving his aching cock insane. He was so desperate for release—and he was almost there. Almost about to cum all over you. But his thighs were burning in pain.

“oh, fuck! I can’t, p-please, mama! please help me, I’m almost there!” Bucky cries, tears streaming down his extremely flushed cheeks.

His thighs tremble and spasm, his movements slowing down. He couldn’t do it anymore. Your baby had been at this for hours before you found him; it was only a matter of time before he would become completely exhausted. Your supersoldier definitely had super strength, but there were certain things he just couldn’t do by himself.

Such a poor little baby.

You latch your hands onto his hips again, more than willing to help your baby boy. With a slight nudge backwards and forwards, Bucky becomes a whining mess, his hips stuttering under your hands as you guide him closer to his orgasm. He thrusts frantically against your thigh, but this time in a perfect rhythm of back and forth movements (he has you to thank for that).

“good boy, Jamie. almost there, you can do it, baby.” Your words come out soft and smooth, coaxing him even further. He pants and whimpers through gritted teeth, muttering an almost incoherent string of curses.

“a-ah, shit-please… lemme cum, please lemme cum! m’ so close, so fucking close!”

You hum in response.

"go ahead, baby, you've been such a good boy for me."

A fraction of a second later, Bucky throws his head back, violently spasming on your lap. Loads of his white cum spurt out all over your leg as he cries out pathetically for you. His large, veiny hands desperately grab at the sheets, as his eyes roll back in pleasure. The veins in his cock are more than prominently bulging as it twitches and pulsates up and down against your now cum-coated thigh.

You watch him intently. His eyes have closed shut, and his heavy panting causes his loose brown hair to blow up with each breath. A few moments later, he falls limp against your chest.

"you okay, Buck?"

Bucky swallows for a moment, then contiunes to pant heavily. You fawn over his cuteness.

"answer me, baby boy. mommy asked you a question."

He softly nods his head against your chest.

"good," you reply with a whisper. "'cause I know you can give me another one."

STAY TUNED FOR PT. 2!!!

#buckybabieboy #sebastian stan #sub!bucky barnes #dom!reader #imagines #marvel #sub bucky barnes #bucky barnes #female reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes blurb #bucky blurb #bucky barnes x female reader #pam and tommy #tfatws

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simplyholl · 5 months

Text

Although I was a constant lurker for months, today marks my one year as a Loki writer. It has been so fun whoring out with all of you. There have been too many laughs to count. By some miracle, I’ve reached a little over 1,000 followers. I’m shook that so many of you are interested in partaking in my wildest fantasies. But I am so thankful for all of you. If you have read, liked, commented, or reblogged anything - thank you from the bottom of my heart! I love reading every wild thing you have to say about these scenes I’ve created.

Sometimes I will just sit there and read your comments over and over in complete shock that my words would elicit such responses. I am so thankful for our little corner of the internet where we can unashamedly be ourselves. We all have different backgrounds, cultures, and lives but we can all agree we just want our favorite god to dick us down.

I’ve made lifelong friends from doing this, and I would’ve never met them otherwise.

@lokisgoodgirl Thank you for giving me the kick in the cooch I needed to start posting my writing. I would have none of this, if it wasn’t for you. Your words of encouragement mean everything to me. Thank you for being my tech expert for the first little bit. I would never give anyone else my login info. You’ve helped me get through some of the toughest times of my life and I am forever grateful for your friendship. I love listening to your voice notes. Your “Good morning” always puts a smile on my face. I hope we can meet in person one day, although I can’t promise that I would keep my hands to myself. I love you endlessly.

@wheredafandomat I only met you at the end of January, but it feels like I have known you my whole life. Is it possible for two people to share the same brain? Because I’m sure that we do. You can make a 2 hour phone call feel like 5 minutes. I’m lucky to have you in my life. My frequent collaborator and birthday twin - I love you so much.

I couldn’t think of a celebration that I wanted to do, but I wanted to share some of my favorite comments over the course of my time on here.

#burdened with a glorious manhood

-@coldnique

The threat to use his vibranium hand to do the choking was just the cherry on top of my death day cake. This is a filthy masterpiece

- @joyful-enchantress

Well spank me sideways, this went from O-deranged in 2.5 seconds AND I'M NOT MAD ABOUT IT

- @thedistractedagglomeration

Ohhhhhh he talks her out of her hero panties and in to his heart

- @cakesandtom

"sit on his face darling" l'm not gonna survive another paragraph I swear to god.this is too much in the best way

- @lokisgoodgirl

The thought of being an avenger and having Loki fuck you senseless is stupid hot, but add into it him talking about making you carry his secret sex baby and still be an avenger is 🔥🔥🔥

- @itsybitchylittlewitchy

Take that you little shit! I am so glad he saw them together and still mounted at that!

- @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed

I mean it's a fitting description after all the devil is tempting and so is Lokis dick

- @fictive-sl0th

You had me at President Loki and biting!

- @marygoddessofmischief

should have really realized that it was you, my dear, who wrote this!

- @smolvenger

I don't need legs, l'll just drag myself around.

- @goblingirlsarah

Spelling his....spelling his name.. ☠️☠️

- @lokisgoodgirl

absolute genius. i read the part about considering staying with him even if just for the sex and i was like "YOU GO Y/N GO GET THAT MULTIVERSAL ASGARDIAN DICK"

- @muddyorbsblr

Yeah Narfi you little bitch. Take that!

- @wheredafandomat

This was so naughty!!! When the vacuum fell and he was like, "fuck it" then continues to pound you harder!!! 🥵🥵🥵

- @mochie85

I neeeed a tall Loki to be my coworker for the job I don't have so he can fuck me in the storage closet

- @wheredafandomat

The best part of waking up is Bucky & Loki in your cup!! WAY better than Folgers.

- @km-ffluv

IT WAS PHENOMENAL. would have tears in my eyes with how proud I am if I wasn't so horny

- @lokisgoodgirl

Just for fun,

If anyone wants to give it a re-read, here’s the first fic I posted.

Snowed In

And this is actually the first thing I wrote

Across the Multiverse

It’s been a great year. I can’t wait to share more horny, unhinged, wild fantasies with you in the next one.

All my love,

-Holly 💚🖤

#loki #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fandom

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blorbo-from-the-cosmos · 1 year

Text

Blorbo’s Shifting Stories 09/03/2023

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ

tl;dr: I SHIFTED. I actually shifted!! It wasn’t to any of my dr’s but I fully actually shifted and grounded myself into a completely different reality while fully aware of the fact that I had shifted! ahahgahahah!!!

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ

Howdy everyone!! It’s been a while since I’ve posted, and truth be told it’s because I haven’t had any reasons to post recently. However, that all changed the other night when I had an out of body experience and shifted twice in a row (albeit neither time to a reality I was hoping for)!!

It all started when I was sleeping. As per usual, I fell asleep with my intention to shift while listening to some subliminals (I believe it was one of Kween Subs videos on YouTube). There was nothing in particular that caused me to shift tbh, I’d had a normal day and wasn’t really expecting much of a result since I didn’t do or feel anything out of the ordinary before going to bed. I just fell asleep while breathing deeply, trying to keep my brain awake while my body fell asleep until I seemingly fell asleep.

So, I become aware of myself and I feel like I’m floating in bed. I felt purely made of energy, it was honestly kind of exhilarating, and so I decided to try astral projecting. It was weird because I’m not sure if I astral projected into a lucid dream, or if I had been lucid dreaming about astral projecting. Either way, I set my intention and told myself I was going to shift.

I started chanting “I have shifted. I am in my desired reality” over and over to myself while shutting my eyes hovering in the middle of my room. I felt like everything disappeared almost like water going down the drain, and in a sudden rush I felt myself getting pulled down myself as if I’d been vacuumed into the void. I just remember breathing deeply and doing my best to stay calm as I kept chanting my affirmations over and over until finally everything stopped.

When I woke up, it felt as though I’d woken up from a full nights sleep. I didn’t fully register that my surroundings were different yet, but I was in a lovely wooden apartment with white sheets and white curtains. It was kind of hazy for the first hour or so, but I remember feeling calm and tranquil like I was on a vacation or something. I remember getting up and making the bed, changing into some white flowy clothes, slipping into sandals, and walking downstairs. Honestly I still thought I was dreaming, but as I got ready I started grounding myself and I distinctly remember every touch and feel of every texture I came across that day.

At this point I’m shaking because omg, I actually shifted??? This is a real place?? I’m so scared because where tf am I??? So I run outside and I start walking down this beautiful cobblestone street and find myself going into what I’m going to describe as a beautiful farmers market that stretched far down a path that lead to the beach in the far distance, while behind the far side of the stands looked like a giant green field that was probably a park. I walked around for a bit just kind of exploring and chatting with some locals, eventually finding out that I was near a beach in Australia.

I cannot emphasize enough that I have never in my life even been close to attempting to fly anywhere near Australia. I don’t have family there, I don’t have friends there, I’ve never really had a strong wish to visit there either (no shade to any aussies!!! australia is lovely, it’s just not one of those special places in my heart </3), so I was flabbergasted on how the hell I ended up there in the first place.

Eventually I remember taking a seat on the beach near some shade and just feeling the sand in my toes for some time. I just basked, honestly, like I just basked in the fact that I’d shifted and yeah maybe it wasn’t where I was trying to go, but damn it if this wasn’t still the most relaxing and freeing experience I’ve ever lived. So, I just sat on the beach and started to affirm to myself that I was in my dr with no real rush. It was so peaceful hearing the ocean waves while being all warm in the sand, I almost immediately felt myself astral projecting again.

I looked down at myself on the beach and I realized I was astral projecting or something, and it was so strange because I remember my dr self looked at me briefly (or at least in my direction) because I felt myself floating up into the sky at an incredibly fast pace. Before I knew it I felt like I was being passed through a vacuum cleaner and I went through the most dizzying journey, but eventually I found myself in a room that looked pretty close to my cr.

I didn’t realize until after that the room I saw before falling asleep again was definitely not my cr room. It was real though, because the first thing I did was feel around for textures and ground myself into that reality. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t dreaming (and I wasn’t), but it looked just similar enough to my cr room in the dark that I automatically assumed I’d returned </3

I did still try affirming and managed to get back into the void state because I wanted to try one last time to shift to my actual dr, but I honestly think I was too tired because I woke up in my cr the next morning and I’ve been waking up here ever since.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ

So yeah! That was my first experience shifting :) literally crazy and so unexpected, but I cannot stress enough how freeing and peaceful it is to shift and actually feel that it’s real. You’re real. Your desired reality is real. It’s all so real and it’s all going to be okay because 3+ years at this point and that’s the first time I shifted but god I’d do it all again from scratch if I had to for me to feel that free one more time!!!

I know I’ll shift again and this time I’ll live the reality I’ve always dreamed. That is a promise <3

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thebwarch · 1 year

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Everybody’s talked about Velma to death and had all their takes but I wanted to get one thought out that’s eating me alive before it completely passes from pop conscience.

This show creates so much contrast within itself so as to create a non-audience that it’s kind of incredible.

And it goes way deeper than people really think if you’ve only watched the takes from afar and seen a couple clips. Anything that this show or ANY show could possibly excel at it spoils for itself on a completely rapid pace and there is almost ZERO way to approach the show from any direction and enjoy it.

Layer 1 is it’s a Scooby spinoff, family friendly franchise, funny moments and charming characters, now it’s an adult show with cursing and gore and completely unlikable characters.

BUT THEN, say you’re here for the adult moments and gore and cursing. You are not going to be down for how juvenile and silly this show gets at the same time.

So then you have this weird mix of rightism and leftism where the show has race-swapped characters who say politically incorrect things, idiots against race swapping characters will hate it and lefties will hate the actual ideology and “jokes” on tap.

So say you don’t care about Scooby Doo and you’re approaching the show as an adult mystery show, the actual mystery and plot progression is painful, especially in the first week the show came out where there were only two episodes *and the plot had literally not progressed in the slightest and zero actual worthy clues have been found, only a red herring*

Say that you’re a fan of well-done animation, this isn’t that, the show does the bare minimum a majority of the time with maybe five seconds of sakuga if that per episode. But it’s also not atrociously bad to just show up to laugh at it, it’s boring in its terrible presentation.

The show ruins its serious moments with its “funny” moments, and ruins its “funny” moments with serious moments. If you’re here for a down-to-earth mystery, Velma assaults Daph with zero repercussion in the first 5 minutes of the show and main characters slice off background character limbs with zero repercussion. So you’re completely uninvested in taking the mystery or story seriously, and the comedy in and of itself does not work. I laughed a FEW times in the first two episodes. I actually enjoyed hearing about Velma’s mom going missing and her search for her, before the show ruined a touching scene seconds later.

I don’t even know if the show was made this way accidentally or on purpose for rage bait and I barely care about that aspect at this point, a behind the scenes feature completely going over production would be interesting but we are so not getting that in the detail I’d like. People have a pet theory the show was an original show before being slapped with Scooby Doo paint and like, no, if this show didn’t have the Scooby property it would not be better and it would not save it. It doesn’t HELP it to have the Scooby paint, but even REMOVING that element I would not like this show in a vacuum.

This show has TALENT behind it, the people behind it worked on Bojack Horseman and The Office, I’ve watched neither but people like those things in *droves*. It’s *bizarre* to put something together with such contrasting goals and non-audience with the pedigree of the people involved. It feels so accidental because in the leadup to this it REALLY FELT like the people making this show *cared* about it.

Some people say this show is bad because it doesn’t have Scooby and it’s a spin-off without the titular character. *Motherfucker what*. It’s not bad because it’s a spin-off it’s bad because it’s bad. It flies in the face of tons of other spinoffs that I’M SURE THESE SAME PEOPLE ADORE. Teen Titans, every piece of Robin media in general, Better Call Saul, Legend of Korra, Luigi’s Mansion, the list can go on and on. A Velma spinoff focusing on her character and doing a mature mystery twist on the formula sounds amazing on paper, it’s just the execution that fumbles.

There’s this bit at the beginning of episode 1 that’s really emblematic of everything. They have some BG charas taking a group shower at high school and talking about how much they hate sexualized TV, and then one pipes up to say that they like it and sex absolutely sells and everyone else is secretly a pervert. In this censored privates shower scene. It MIGHT work as meta commentary, if these weren’t minors in highschool. Like no, this is not the sex that sells, your designs and art are god awful, I am not going to get turned on at these actual fucking teenagers. It’s really bizarre and awful that you made an adult show with adult concepts surrounding these actual teenagers in actual highschool.

Fred’s becoming one of the most beloved characters in animation history, his last few outtings have made him an adorkable himbo that people adore. And then in this he’s a spoiled rich pathetic white boy, which mind you, I would LOVE to bash on that archetype if it wasn’t goddamn Fred. I LIVE to hate on the rich and pampered with my absolute abysmal bank account. But when you make it THIS character with THIS history, people are OF COURSE going to be sore and going to miss old characterization.

MAYBE IT IS PURPOSEFULLY DONE RAGE BAIT AFTER ALL...

The best thing anyone can do is not talk about it (I have failed) and let it pass, but it’s not as if not talking about it will stop it because it’s already been renewed for a second season. Make it a meme that HBO Max holds terrible shows and renews terrible shows, “HBO Max, home of Velma, the worst show on streaming”

Anyway go watch Puss in Boots Last Wish!

#Velma #Velma hbo max #hbo max #critique #Review #Scooby Doo #Bwarch OC

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changingplumbob · 2 months

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Foster Household: Chapter 8, Part 6

Carson continues his appointment after which he and Kayleigh meet up with friends for dinner.

Low level content warning: discussions of anxiety disorder

Carson: I guess... the asthma has been harder than I thought

Dr H: How so

Carson: Well it seemed to just come out of nowhere. I’ve got this inhaler for asthma attacks but I don’t think I’ve had one yet. I still keep it on me, just in case. I get worried about what could set it off

Dr H: And how do you cope with that worry

Carson: Not well I guess. But I can look after myself. I have a whole cleaning routine for my room to keep it dust free

Dr H: Tell me about that

Carson begins to explain the process he does to clean his room, when he wakes up and after dinner, just to be safe.

Dr H: Can I ask, what would happen if you didn’t do this

Carson: Well there’d be dust and it would make me have an asthma attack which would probably hurt a lot if it didn’t kill me

Dr H: Okay. Now when you’re outside of your room, how do you feel about the asthma triggers then

Carson: Home isn’t too bad, mum makes sure it’s vacuumed for me. And most of the places at school are okay, at least first thing. Mrs Tinker, my teacher, told me that cleaners come every night at 6. They wipe everything down and vacuum. But by the end of the school day I get worried about the dead skin in the air though. Like how much will actually end up in my lungs

The conversation continues with Dr Hanks asking more about Carson’s routines and his worries. Kayleigh sits through as best she can, trying only to say things when she’s asked, or if Carson looks to her for support. She’s a bit shocked to learn how much he actually does to try avoid asthma attacks, not all of them logical choices. All her kids have tended to be academically gifted so when she hears Carson is doing things that would have no actual impact on an asthma attack she does wonder where the behaviour has come from.

Dr H: Thanks for sharing all of that Carson. I know it’s not easy to talk to a stranger about inner thoughts

Carson: It’s tough. I just… I guess I don’t want to be worried about asthma attacks all the time

Dr H: Based on today it does appear that you have developed an anxiety disorder. In particular I believe you may have OCD. Do you know what that is?

Carson: It’s like when you need everything to be neat?

Dr H: For some. Those with OCD, obsessive compulsive disorder, often find themselves developing obsessions or compulsions which they use to manage their anxiety. While it may work in the short term, it’s not healthy in the long term

Carson: So I’m broken

Kayleigh: He didn’t say that honey

Dr H: I don’t think you’re broken. I think you just need some extra help, we all need extra help from time to time

Carson: Can you get rid of it

Dr H: Psychological conditions are complex. They’re not like a tumour which can be cut out. What we need to do instead is work on strategies which will help you cope with the anxiety in a safer way that does not interfere with your life as much, so that you can enjoy life. We have a few options to help. One, which I would highly recommend, is going to therapy

Dr H: Talking through the anxieties can often help minimise the danger they present, and lesson the compulsions. However if your mood is already off balance I would suggest also starting on some medication to get you in a better headspace before starting therapy. How does that sound

Carson: Yeah, I mean… if it’ll help

Dr H: Now these medications can have side effects, and will take time to build up. Your medical insurance should help with the cost of them though

Kayleigh: Cost doesn’t matter, whatever he needs

Dr H: *smiles* I shall refer you to a therapist then, and send a script to the pharmacy for you to collect. We should meet up again after you’ve done that for a while to see how it’s affecting you. Does that sound okay Carson?

Carson: Do I… do I need to tell people

Dr H: Entirely up to you, perhaps it’s one of the first things you could discuss with the therapist. Do you have any other questions for me

Carson: Mum?

Kayleigh: How long until he can see a therapist

Dr H: It will take some time to match Carson with someone who specialises in OCD, more and more sims are needing our services lately, but you should hear from someone with an appointment in the next few months

Carson: Why do I feel like I need a nap

Kayleigh: You’ve had a big day, exams and then Dr Hanks. Are you sure you still want to do dinner

Carson: Yeah but… I probably wont tell them much until I’ve seen the therapist

Kayleigh: We will need to tell your dad, but apart from him it’s your health. You choose who you do or don’t want to know

Carson: So Charlie and Keira and…. Reece don’t have to know

Kayleigh: Not if you don’t want them to honey

Carson: Thanks mum, seriously

For dinner Carson and Kayleigh head to the Sulani Restaurant built by EA ID: VeronicaDumm. Onyx is here with their mum Eliza, Bob has opted to stay home and watch Fergus since Harvey won’t be there. Darwin and William are also invited to celebrate surviving the exams.

Kayleigh: Can we have a table for six please

Server: Mrs Foster? Of course! If you follow me we have a lovely table up here with the best view of the ocean… and the kitchen

Darwin: So bro how’d it go

Carson: Well they concluded I’m alive

Onyx: always nice to know

Carson: The dude we saw was pretty nice

Kayleigh: He was. Very good listener

Eliza: That’s good, our kids deserve proper care

Darwin: Did he like totally shrink your head

Carson: Does my head look smaller than normal

Darwin: It’s not a great light

Carson: *laughs* It was actually not stereotypical

Jimin: What can I get you to eat

Kayleigh: Oh I would love some Kalua pork, is that on the menu?

Jimin: It certainly is Mrs Foster

Eliza: I know we’re in Sulani but I don’t know about pork

Jimin: The chef does a fantastic Island Vegetable Feast if that would be more to your taste

Eliza: Yes thank you

Carson: And we’ll all have nectar

Kayleigh: We will not. Eliza and I can drink but the rest of you 14 year olds get rootbeer floats

There’s general grumbling from the kids but can’t be bending nectar rules when at the table nearby is top prosecutor Aaron dining with cop Amabel. They’re just tying up the case against Liam, Aaron would not be stepping out on his wife I promise.

Darwin: Go back to what you were saying Carson

Carson: Oh yeah so I was totally expecting some long as couch and an old white man telling me to close my eyes and imagine my childhood

Kayleigh: *laughs* luckily we didn’t get that

Eliza: No couch or no old white guy

Carson: Both. He was maybe 30’s and black. He did have three couches, but they were all short, I wouldn’t be able to stretch out on one

Onyx: But what if you really needed a nap

William: Nap before you go Onyx

Onyx: Don’t confuse me with your logic

William: Did it help

Carson: Yes, it did. He thinks it would be good to go see a therapist for a bit

Darwin: Makes sense. Oh yes! Food! Finally!

The various drinks and dishes arrive and everyone seated has a moment as they get excited about the food.

Eliza: Maybe I shouldn’t eat it all. I’m sure Bob would like to taste some

William: Thanks for getting us all dinner Mrs Foster

Kayleigh: You’re very welcome William

Eliza: Have you heard how your exams went yet

Carson: I did well

Darwin: Me too which is weird because I didn’t study

William: No, you just copied everyone else’s work

Darwin: Po-tay-toe po-tah-toe

Onyx: I did good mother so a horse-

Eliza: Yes but Onyx you did just get detention

Darwin: Don’t blame them Mrs Pancakes, Mr A was being Mr Arse that day

Carson: He gave me detention to

Onyx: See mother I told you

Eliza: *sighs*

Darwin: I better get home or my mums will wonder if I got killed

Everyone thanks Kayleigh and begins to head home.

William: I told you you’d be fine in the appointment

Carson: Yeah, it definitely helped. And who knows, therapy could be good

William: Well if you can’t talk to them you can always talk to me

Carson: Thanks Will. Hey is this an okay light for a selfie

William: You look great

Carson: Knew it

Kayleigh: Harv, we’re home! Are you-

Harvey: I’m here, I’m here

Kayleigh: Oh you do not look good. Did you rest properly today

Harvey: Of course I did. But then my muscles got stiff so I thought I should have a swim

Kayleigh: *sighs* That’s not going to get you better

Harvey: No but you’re going to get me better *kisses cheek*

Kayleigh: Did you get my text? I didn’t want to call in case you were napping

Harvey: I did, OCD huh

Kayleigh: Yep. But he doesn’t want to tell anyone about it just now so no blabbing

Harvey: I won’t, I won’t. Thanks for taking him, wish I could of but-

Kayleigh: But you’re sick and need to rest

Harvey: Yeah. I think I’m getting better though, it’s just rough

Kayleigh: I know we can hardly call 11 an early night but let’s go sleep huh

Harvey: Yeah sleep sounds great sugar

This concludes the Foster chapter. Keira and Marta are here for now but next rotation will have their own home. Harvey and Kayleigh sleep and dream of retirement while Carson dreams of a clean room.

Previous ... Next (Nishidake)

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #R0808 #ChangingPlumbobStorytime #FosterHousehold #CarsonFoster #KayleighFoster #ElizaPancakes #OnyxPancakes #HarveyFoster

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the-lincyclopedia · 5 months

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Some thoughts on cleaning

As an adult, I’ve never really known how to figure out what kind of cleaning I needed to be doing, and the advice that’s out there on the internet has never been very helpful to me. It feels like most of the advice I’ve seen has had one of two assumptions: 1.) your space is extremely messy (in a somewhat specific way), or 2.) you care a lot about having a clean home and are willing and able to invest a lot of time and energy into making that a reality (in an even more specific way).

Neither of these assumptions really fits me. I’m not the sort of person to leave mugs all over my apartment, keep lots of dirty dishes in the sink, or have piles of laundry lying around, and I never have been, so a lot of the advice aimed at mentally ill/disabled people hasn’t been helpful or resonant, even though I am mentally ill and disabled. But I also have never been the sort of person to vacuum, dust, etc. on a regular basis, nor have I felt like I’ve had the energy for that. I’m somewhere in the middle, falling through the cracks between the two prevalent types of advice.

And then this week, for the first time in years, I cleaned my apartment somewhat thoroughly. I didn’t do everything, but I did a lot. And I’ve been stunned in the past few days to realize how good it feels to live in a space that’s cleaner and less cluttered. It honestly feels amazing. I’ve loved my apartment for most of the time that I’ve lived here, but this is on a different level. So here are some thoughts about how you can maybe get a taste of this too.

You get to decide what your goal is. Do you want to vacuum? Do you want to go through the piles of papers sitting on every flat surface that have been accumulating for months or years? Do you want to throw out the broken stuff that you’ve replaced but haven’t gotten rid of? Do you want to recycle the boxes you’ve been compulsively hoarding? You don’t have to want a picture-perfect living space. You don’t have to shoot for the sort of house or apartment you’d see in a cleaning-supply commercial. (In fact, that’s probably aiming too high.) You don’t have to do what you’re “supposed” to do. You get to pick what “clean” looks like to you. You get to pick what will make the biggest difference for you. (Obviously, if you share a living space, you probably need to negotiate these things. But in spaces that are yours, this is your call, and even in shared spaces, it can still be worth questioning received notions of cleanliness.)

Start with something achievable. Vacuum one room, or sort through one stack of papers, or fill one bag of trash, or break down one box. If you complete that task, or even if you get halfway through it and then stop, great! Your space is cleaner than it was before! Every increment counts.

If you finish your first goal and still have energy, keep going. Ride that momentum as far as it’ll take you. It’s often easier to keep doing something than to start doing it, so if you can continue cleaning (and “can” here means that it’s both physically and mentally possible), then continue cleaning! You may find it easier to maintain momentum if you don’t sit down or take breaks, but also, if sitting or breaks are good disability accommodations for you, then use them.

Make it easier on yourself. If vacuums are distressingly loud for you, try earplugs or noise-canceling headphones. If rewards help keep you motivated, give yourself a treat when you finish, or even midway through! If you’re doing a cleaning task that can be done while listening to music or calling a friend, do that if you want. There is no virtue in misery, and in fact the best thing you can do is make cleaning not suck so that you can do it again sometime.

I hope this helps someone. I don’t think there are any universal rules about this stuff, especially in the specific, but I do think that picking a goal that’s meaningful to you, starting small, riding momentum when possible, accommodating your needs, and trying to find ways to reward yourself for cleaning are probably good ideas in most circumstances. Here’s wishing you the energy to clean!

#a lin original #adulthood #cleaning #real life stuff

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cafesanscreme · 1 year

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‘The Gaze,’ Love and Happiness.

Based on some comments I’ve seen, be it twitter or tumblr or even reddit, I get the impression that some people struggle to understand the different forms love can take and the variables that shape how that love is expressed; this is especially visible when it comes to Kazuki and Rei. ‘The Gaze’ as I’ll call it, has led to a lot of discussion around Kazuki and his new-found happiness — more specifically, what it means and who it pertains to. People seem to believe that this happiness excludes Rei because Kazuki isn’t ‘in love’ with him like he loved Yuzuko. Therefore, the only thing making Kazuki happy now, is Miri, for whom he can express parental love.

And make no mistake, Miri (ball of sunshine in her cute little platypus raincoat and singing her cute little song that I might have played-back multiple times) is making Kazuki happy — you won’t see me argue that — but Rei was, and continues to, make Kazuki happy too…Kazuki doesn’t need to be ‘in love’ with Rei to be happy with him…

When people remove Rei from having influence on Kazuki’s happiness, and make him just a tool for Kazuki’s coping at the loss of Yuzuko, it reduces the significance and importance platonic relationships can have on a person, mentally and emotionally; as if these relationships have less meaning and subsequently, less influence on a persons decisions and beliefs. Beyond that, this line of thinking takes away Kazuki’s ability to make rational, well thought decisions, and he becomes very one-dimensional. It essentially reduces his happiness down to ‘being a parent’ and it’s not just about being a parent for him. Kazuki’s original desire and original hope was rooted in raising a child with someone he cared about. And so when people question Rei’s significance or importance to Kazuki’s happiness simply because Kazuki isn’t ‘in love’ with Rei in the romantic sense of the word, it ignores Kazuki’s ability to understand himself and his general upset about his ability to move on and the reality that relationships do grow and mature from where they started.

Miri forces Kazuki to acknowledge he is happy, and has been happy despite not wanting to be. Miri forces him to accept and acknowledge the permanence of what he’s established and that he likes it. Liked it enough to bring a child into it and has settled into it so much so, that he wants it to mature and grow. Rei might not have forced Kazuki to acknowledge these things, but they were very obviously already there, lurking under the surface.

It wasn’t that Kazuki found Miri and wanted to raise her and Rei just so happened to be there — Rei was always there, already there, and Kazuki decides to keep her anyway. He doesn’t make the decision in a vacuum with solely himself in mind. Every decision he makes regarding Miri is stemmed with the word ‘we’. Kazuki never assumes this is going to be a one person job. And it’s not like Rei is some foreign entity to him. Kazuki knows who Rei is, his strengths, his weaknesses, his faults, and still chooses to co-parent with him. Hopeful like any new parent, that their partner will mature into the role and they will learn and grow together.

Let’s keep it clear and simple: Kazuki is a grown ass man. If he just wanted to be a parent, with no happiness attached to his co-parent, and solely for the sake of ‘raising a child’ he has options. He’s an attractive man who makes a lot of money (albeit illegally) — he could find a woman to have a child for him. It’s not so far-fetched that maybe, potentially, subconsciously, Kazuki was more willing to keep Miri because he’d be raising her with someone he was familiar with and yes, happy with.

Sure, ep. 7 highlighted that they weren’t on the same page about everything, but that’s just life for new parents. You’re not always aligned on everything. But it’s clear he wants this co-parenting thing to work. He wants them, as a team, to experience ‘raising a family’ in their own unique way. Kazuki is happy with Rei and happy raising Miri with Rei. Love and affection are not a 0 sum game, happiness isn’t reserved for love and love isn’t reserved for romance.

#buddy daddies #kazuki kurusu #kurusu kazuki #rei suwa #suwa rei #unasaka miri #miri unasaka #kazurei #buddy daddy spoilers #long read #instead of working I do this

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armed-with-a-waffle-iron · 6 months

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Bat Family— Star Trek AU💫.

"Captain’s log, Stardate 688 09.9:

4 weeks in the big chair and it still takes me an extra second to remember it’s my final orders the bridge waits on. Today, my chatty science officer even told me “careful, Grayson; even a small leak can sink a great ship”. I told the kid I’d make sure to put it in my log so here it is.

It has been only 6 weeks since the so-called “New Gods” attacked the Federation, and the Long Shadows and its brave, young crew are not just grieving the loss of their captain but one of our world’s finest…;a man whom, despite our rocky history, I saw as a brother. Aboard the Federation’s lead emergency and rescue vessel, our crew is, on a daily, reckoning with the fallout of the final crisis in the Alpha Quadrant and the power vacuum left in its wake. Firefighting aside, our crew is also adapting, rather hurriedly, to the musical chairs in both senior and junior staff.

I began my career on the bridge of this fateful ship and somehow I always find my way back to it. It wasn’t long ago that I was a small, cocky, upstart ensign, masking tragedy with a smile. I was just lucky that my captain saw something he liked in me. “I’ll be head monkey before you know it” I used to tell Bruce and, cruelly, that was closer to the truth than I could have imagined. It’s strange how much of an imposter I feel in his chair— my chair now. Just weeks ago, I was commanding the Big Apple, which gives me more pleasure than I can say but…this— this ship is different; Bruce made it his and to take over as their captain? I should know more than anyone; the show must go on. I’ve spent too much time treating this role as a memorial. It’s time to properly redefine the role as my own. Life’s a carnival and it’s time I take the stage.

My first act as captain was appointing Ens. Wayne as my chief science officer; the very role I served under his father when I was an ensign no older than him. This may raise eyebrows but, while I can’t always excuse the kid’s abrasiveness and pride, I want it on record that I have my full confidence in his abilities. Ens. Wayne is a determined and focused officer whose brilliant thinking has already saved dozens of lives. Any sniff of bigotry regarding his Romulan heritage, on and off this ship, will be dealt with directly by me. And Miss Brown. He’s a diamond in the rough but I expect the rest of my seasoned bridge crew to rub off on him. There’s something written in the stars about a captain and their science officer, and there’s no one on this crew as ready as Damian to begin a new chapter in their story; we’re gonna be a hell of a duo.

I have worked closely with Counselor Brown since she returned to The Shadows from service on the medical vessel Katavi. Miss Brown is inspiringly driven. She’s a practiced medic though an unconventional choice for a counselor but I’m sure she’d take that as a compliment. She has a magnetic charm and a gift for connecting with others, and is a savvy diplomat when she remembers to not to think aloud. She was always prone to the odd risk, especially when lives are on the line in the field, though it’s safe to say that she never runs out of ideas. “If I was gonna play by the book, I’d have never left Earth,” she told me recently. Dr. Pennyworth claims she reminds him of…well, me but I don’t know, I don’t really see it. Perhaps the lines between bravery and recklessness are blurrier than I thought, and maybe every starship needs medics and counselors with Miss Brown’s unyielding dedication to the wellbeing of others.

It’s been a… a pleasure to serve alongside Cmdr. Gordon again, after almost 2 years. Sometimes it is…a lot to share a bridge with someone who’s known you so inti— known you for so long. Especially when tensions are high. Nonetheless, there is no one on this ship I trust more to set me straight if need be. In fact, there may be no one on this ship I trust more. This ship would have never left its dock if we didn’t have Cmdr. Gordon in charge of operations. Barbara’s truly the ship’s 411— if there were two of her, I’d opt to retire the ship’s computer. She’s a born leader; also responsible for the appointment of half of my senior bridge staff and she comfortably takes the big chair when required. We’ve always made a great team, which will mean a few clashes and compromises too. To whoever it may concern, we’ll keep things professional this time, I promise…

Lt. Cmdr. Bertinelli is a stellar security chief and it’s in these uncertain times that her very own Atlas of Organised Crime is consulted significantly, on and off this ship. I’ll admit that the two of us haven’t had the smoothest of working— or personal— relationships in the past but “the past” is all it is. I’m happy to call Helena one of my greatest allies— and friends. It’s been lovely to see someone so solitary find a family on board this ship. I may not always see eye-to-eye with Cmdr. Bertinelli but I have no qualms in saying that she would be a captain by now if Star Fleet tribunal and their rulings against her weren’t riddled with rigid hierarchies and double standards.

My 1st Officer, Lt. Cmdr. Kane, certainly knows how to run a tight ship. She has made it clear that she thinks mine lacks a little discipline and caution. Her security background really shows and we definitely have different styles in leadership but hopefully the Shadows can get the best out of both worlds. In her words; “this ship is facing a different breed of threat and disaster every day, so it needs a different breed of crew”. She’s happy to take the bridge when an away team is needed so she’s probably spent more time in the captain’s chair than I have by now.

Lt. Cmdr. Montoya was an instrumental player in Star Fleet’s response to the final crisis and she is determined to honour the memory of the late Mr. Sage, whose post she has assumed. She’s a veteran investigator who’s quickly learning the ropes to service aboard a starship and she already sets a high bar on scouting and espionage assignments. Cmdr.s Kane, Montoya and Bertinelli, form a simply excellent criminal investigation team, although I won’t pretend to understand their more personal relationships with each other.

Doctor Pennyworth, as he was before, has been my rock. He’s the heart of this ship, and he does a solid job at keeping its crew alive and well. The Shadows just isn’t the Shadows without him.

It’s no secret how hard Lt. Drake is taking Capt. Wayne’s passing— his regular counselling sessions with Miss Brown too often end in a screaming match in the hallway. For the record, I stand by my decision to give Mr. Drake’s bridge posting to Ens. Wayne and put Mr. Drake in charge of engineering. The Ensign is a real prodigy and needs this show of good faith while Mr. Drake, who has been a brilliant science officer to Capt. Wayne for almost 4 years, deserved the chance to step out of his old captain’s shadow. Nonetheless, our relationship has soured since I, in his words, “kicked him off my bridge” but that is not to say I don’t have the utmost faith in his performance as our new chief engineer.

Lt. Cain has been distant…let me rephrase that— Lt. Cain has been taken to self-isolating since the captain’s passing. Counselor Brown says sometimes she’ll go almost an entire counseling session without saying a word. Funny enough, when I suggested joint sessions with Mr. Drake, the counselor told me to get out of her office. Babs— Cmdr. Gordon, sorry, insists Miss Cain will come around in time; she knows she is among dear friends. She continues to be reliable and cool under pressure at the ship’s helm, adept at assignments in zero-G, and a clinical melee fighter when it’s called for. Yesterday, I suggested that she also head combat training down at security and she smiled, so maybe she will take up that offer.

On a ship so aptly named, it’s hard to forget that old sins cast long shadows. We now reckon with both old foes and threats unforeseen, which place the now vulnerable Federation in jeopardy and expose the cracks in its facade. It’s almost as if the ship herself questions how well we learn from history, and how history will remember us."

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