#kaite’s kitchen

[sarahjaneshearer-blog]

Coffees places

Hey, how are you???

Today, I am going to tell you six coffee places that I have been to!!!

1. The Coffee Klub which is 95 paisley road in Renfrew. Unfortunately it is not accessible but there’s outside seats ad tables. The staff is helpful as they bring out their menu out to you. Their coffee is a 1 out of 10.

2. Katie’s kitchen which is 4 Inchinnan Road in Renfrew. Unfortunately it is not accessible but here’s outside seats and tables. The staff is helpful as they bring the menu out to you. They do the best cakes. Their coffee is a 9 out of 10.

3. Zambretto’s which is 42 Old Sneddon Street in Paisley. The toliet isn’t really accessible. The food is nice. The coffee is a 5 out 10.

4. I got a Starbucks which was delivered from Hillingdon business park, Glasgow. Delivery driver was nice. I bought 2 coffee’s. One was a pumpkin spice frappe and it is a 10 out of 10. The other one is a pumpkin spice latte and it is a 10 out 10.

5. Pendulum which is 11 Gauze Street in Paisley. The toilet is tight. The food is amazing. Their coffee is a 8 out of 10.

6. Costa coffee in the paisley piazza. The food as nice. Their coffee is a 9 out of 10.

#cp #wheelchair #the coffee klub #kaite’s kitchen #zambretto #starbucks #costa coffee #accessibility

[greenkait]

First time trying to make yogurt today!

I had 2L of cream top milk about to go bad in the fridge and decided to try my hand at homemade yogurt! I warmed the milk in my crock pot for 4 hours until the milk got to 185ish F and then once it cooled to 118 I separated some and added a Greek yogurt cup (equipped with live cultures) I had in the fridge 😁

Now it goes into the oven (not on ofc) to sit for 8-12 hours. Fingers crossed it turns out overnight! 🙏🏻

#yogurt #kitchen witches of tumblr #kitchen witch #green kait #green witchcraft #green witch #low waste #sustainable cooking #homemade yogurt

[qt-kt]

God I wish someone could come over and rub my neck I cannot turn my fucking head rn its so stiff 😭

#i should go to the massage place near my work but im not gonna be free to do that til next week at least and im in pain NOW #cant even take a bath bc my tub started leaking through the ceiling of the kitchen #i am home alone in severe pain and for what. for why. #kaites adventures

[headkiss]

annaaa im rewatching cm again and reentering my hotch phase and u are my ultimate favorite hotch writer so may i please beg for something sweet with him? maybe like making dinner or doing some other activity together? of course this is totally absolutely no pressure at all thank u i love u <33

kait my love angel bae i am so honoured to be ur fav hotch writer 😭🫶 this one’s for u and i hope u like it!!! | 0.6k of fluff

Aaron can hear you moving about in the kitchen when he gets home.

It’s something he’s had a hard time getting used to, the intimacy of it all. The sound of pots clanging and spoons scraping dishes as you stir things. It’s the reminder of having someone there, of never really being alone. Sure, he’s not used to it, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’s good at being quiet, has to be for his job, so he shuts the door softly behind him and toes off his shoes. Sneaking down the hall, he spots you through the doorway of the kitchen, your hair up, back of your neck exposed.

Hotch leans a shoulder against the doorframe and watches you cook for a little, the stress of the day sort of melting away as he does.

You only catch him when you turn around, jumping and dropping the spoon you’d been holding onto the counter. “Aaron!” His name is dragged out in a whine, “you’ve gotta stop doing that.”

“Watching you cook?”

“Using your agent feet on me.”

He huffs a laugh at that one, a smile spreading over his face freely the way they seem to spread around you.

“Whatcha making?”

“Just some pasta. You wanna help?”

You offer him an apron, the neck dangling from your fingertips. Aaron takes it easily, tossing it over his button up that he’d worn to work. It’s a funny juxtaposition, the crisp state of his shirt and the stained canvas he wears over it.

“Where do you want me, chef?”

Whenever Aaron’s gone, you tend to worry and worry. That he’ll get hurt, that he’ll get tired of juggling you and his work. Then, he comes home to you, putting on your apron without complaining, and you’re not so worried anymore, because it makes sense. Having him beside you makes sense.

You grin at him over your shoulder, now turned back to the boiling water on the stove, “there’s some veggies in the fridge if you wanna cut those?”

“‘Course.”

As he walks behind you to get to the fridge, he pauses to push a kiss into the side of your neck, his arms weaving around your waist. You lean into his touch like an instinct, like there’s a string that shortens whenever he’s near, tugging the two of you towards each other.

You’re lucky to get him this way. Where everyone else sees Hotch, you only see Aaron.

Conversation comes easy as you cook together, Hotch getting a cutting board and setting himself up at the counter next to the stovetop. Not the most functional spot, but it’s the one closest to you, so he chooses it anyway.

Aaron’s not one to open up quickly. He doubts himself, questions whether he’ll be too much for the other person, worries that they’ll get fed up with his scattered schedule and leave. And then he met you and things were different.

He’d had to cancel your second date because of a case, and you’d barely blinked, telling him on the phone that the anticipation will only make it so much better, that it isn’t his fault and you’d be there when he got back. You said all of the right things and he sent you flowers and that was the start of the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Now, you live together and your toothbrushes share the same countertop and it might not be perfect all of the time but it’s as close as possible, he thinks.

“Hey. Try this for me?” You’re holding out a spoon, a little bit of pasta sauce on the end, your free hand cupped underneath it to catch any that might fall. “Please?”

You never need to say please with him, Aaron thinks, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like the way it sounds in your voice.

He leans towards you, bending to taste what you’re offering him.

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.”

Hotch isn’t lying, but even if it wasn’t perfect, he’d still tell you it was. If only to see the way your face lights up with your smile, the way you bounce a little on your feet.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner blurbs #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner requests #aaron hotchner request #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fic #hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch blurbs #aaron hotch fanfiction #hotch criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds hotch #agent hotchner #hotch fluff

[katsu28]

congratulations kait!! this celebration is SO cute! i am gonna request ☕️ + “You look stupid as all hell right now.” + hangman !!! thank you loveyyyy

lola my dear my love thank you!!! love you <3

jake "hangman" seresin x reader, 1.4k, slightly suggestive towards the end, join the celebration!

“Babe, do you know where the box of kitchen plates is?” 

It was something straight out of your dreams, finally moving in with the love of your life. You’d been dating Jake Seresin for two years and finally made that leap, the last of your boxes making their way to your new home safely today. There was a lot coming from your apartment and his, but everything would find its place here. 

You could’ve had nothing and still be just as happy, because you still had Jake, and that was really all you needed. 

Except for he wasn’t answering you right now, and you really wanted to find the plates. So you went looking for him, calling his name every few seconds until you reached your bedroom. You found him alright, you definitely weren’t prepared for the sight you were met with. 

He was wearing a sweater of yours, definitely way too small for his broad frame judging from the way it cut off above his belly button. It was tight in the shoulders too, and you’d be a bit more annoyed at him stretching it out if you weren't so in love with him. He was grinning guiltily at you, hands propped up on his hips as he stood in the middle of a pile of your clothes. 

“I was gonna put all your stuff in the closet for you so you didn’t have to.” He said sheepishly, gesturing vaguely at the mess around him. “...Surprise?” 

You couldn’t help but smile fondly at him, so big your cheeks ached. “You look stupid as all hell right now.” 

“I think you mean stupid handsome,” He scoffed, arching a brow at you. 

“No, I meant what I said. What made you think you could fit into that, honey?” You chided playfully, crossing the room to get a better look at him. It was an older sweater of yours, a bit frayed at the sleeves from how often you’d worn it over the years you’d had it, but still soft and even cozier now that it had been worn in. 

“You were wearin’ this sweater the first time we met, d’you remember?” 

Of course you remembered. You remembered it like it was yesterday, even though it had been almost three years ago. 

You were grabbing a little pick me up before work at your usual coffee place one morning, and you spotted it on the pickup counter, the same thing you always got. Another hand reached for the plastic cup at the same time, long fingers curling around yours for a moment before jerking back like they’d been burned. 

The problem was, your gut instinct was to retreat as well, leaving the cup of coffee to tip over on the counter. The lid popped off, and suddenly your sleeve was cold and wet and smelled like…well, coffee.

“Shit!” You hissed, shaking it out as best you could. “What the hell?” 

“Oh fuck—” You looked up, and the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on was staring right back at you, blond hair swept up and out of his face, pretty green eyes widened in something akin to horror. “I am so sorry, I thought it was mine, I didn’t—are you alright?”

You should’ve been angry—or annoyed at the very least, because now your favorite sweater was stained and you’d probably never be able to get it out—but you weren’t. All you could think about other than your sopping wet sleeve was that his guy was clearly concerned about you. 

Maybe he took your silence as a not-so-great one, because he forced out a chuckle. “On the bright side, at least it was iced coffee.” He was trying to make light of the situation as he grabbed a wad of napkins from the dispenser, thrusting it out towards you clumsily. You thought it was actually kind of cute. 

An amused laugh bubbled out of you, and you shrugged, nodding. “There’s the silver lining.” 

“I’m Hangman—Jake, I mean. My name’s Jake. Seresin. Hangman’s my callsign, s’force of habit.” 

“Callsign? You Air Force or something?” 

“Navy, actually, and I’ll try not to be too offended by that.” 

“Air Force, Navy—aren’t they pretty much the same?” 

“Okay, ouch.” Jake faux winced, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again to see you were just messing with him. Then he smiled, shaking his head. “Maybe I could buy you another coffee, make up for the one that spilled? We could talk. I could tell you the difference between the two.” 

“Why not make it up now? We’re both still here.” You were taking a bolder approach than you usually did when it came to people you found attractive, but something had come over you with Jake. Even though he was a complete and total stranger, you felt surprisingly at ease with him.

Jake perked up at that, lips curving into a smile, but then he checked his watch. He grimaced. “I’m actually late for work right now, I’m so—can we raincheck? I promise I’m not tryin’ to get out of anythin’, my captain’ll have my behind if I’m not on the tarmac ready to go in ten.” 

“Ten minutes? Well what the hell are you still doing here? Go!” 

He grinned at you one more time before moving to hurry out the door, but didn’t get more than a few feet away when he skidded to a stop, turning on his heel to face you again. “Wait, I didn’t get your name!” 

“Guess you’ll just have to meet me back here again. Saturday, noon. Don’t be late.” You winked at him and he gave you a mock salute before dashing out the door, leaving you thinking about him the rest of the day, and until you had the privilege of seeing him next. 

It took Jake almost a year to ask you out after you met up that Saturday, wallowing in what he thought was the friend zone for the longest time until the two of you managed to get your heads out of your asses and see what you were missing. And it was actually you who told him you liked him first, murmuring it in his ear at a summer bonfire with your friends, but it was him who kissed you first—right after you told him you liked him. 

“Yeah, I remember.” You said softly, fingers trailing down the sleeve to the faint brown stain in the soft wool where the coffee had spilled. Jake’s arms slid around you, though a little stiffly given his constraints. “Look at us now.” 

“Look at us indeed. Havin’ our own place, putin’ down roots. Seems pretty crazy, doesn’t it?” He murmured, giving your waist a loving squeeze. You did the same around his shoulders, tilting your chin up for a kiss that Jake gladly gave you. 

Jake always kissed you like he did everything in life—confidently and well. They still had you reeling in the moments after even now, even though he’d kissed you about a thousand times in the time you’d been together—probably more. 

This one was no different, but something about it felt sweeter. Like he was less worried about winning, because he’d already won it all. Because he had you, because you had a home together. Because now you could start the rest of your lives with each other in this home. You could almost hear him saying something about having the best prize of them all. 

“Now take off my sweater. Your big man shoulders are stretching it out.” You said, patting him firmly on the chest a few times. 

Jake gasped, slapping an appalled hand over his chest. “Is this your way of tryin’ to get me out of my clothes? In the middle of the day? You tease!”  

“We’ve still got a whole house to unpack, so no, I’m not trying to get you out of anything. Except my sweater, so if you would be so kind?” 

“You could at least pretend to want me once in a while, y’know.” He sighed dramatically, letting his head hang. That was Jake, ever the drama queen out of the two of you. 

You lifted his chin with two fingers, fixing him to the spot with a look. “I’m sorry, was this morning not enough for you? What was it—one, two, three—” 

“Okay, okay, fine! You were yellin’ somethin’ about kitchen plates earlier? Let’s get the damn thing done so we can have more time for this morning’s activities.” 

“I swear, that’s all your dude brain thinks about—take off my sweater, damnit!” 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#kait's 2k! #hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman seresin fluff #jake seresin fluff #hangman seresin fic #jake seresin fic #hangman seresin one shot #hangman seresin imagine

[sunshinesteviee]

emma i already know whatever you write for this adorable sleepover is going to be the cause of my death, but may i please request #17 - to the child: "Could you please bring this to mama/papa/parent?" *handing them a tiny love note* from list one with dad!steve? thank youu i love u hehe <3

kait!!! thank you so much omg i hope you like this; dad!steve owns my entire heart <3 mom!reader, wc: 846

—

It’s a relatively quiet evening in for the Harrington household. The soup you’re making for dinner is simmering on the stove while Steve keeps your toddler busy. You love Claire, she has you wrapped around her finger, but you’re so glad to have Steve; you’re not sure how you’d ever get anything done if it was just you. The last time you’d checked on your loves, they were both sitting at the coffee table in the living room, coloring diligently, and judging how quiet it is, you assume they’re still there.

Steve is, in fact, still sitting on the floor next to his little girl as she scribbles furiously on her paper, the entirety of her tiny hand wrapped around the purple crayon she’s using. Her eyebrows are furrowed, her nose is scrunched up, and her soft, wavy hair is falling into her face as she concentrates on getting her picture just right. Every little thing she does makes Steve’s heart burst, and this little moment is no exception. Reaching out toward her, Steve gently brushes her hair out of her face, tucking it back into the bow clip already in her hair, even though her hair will probably shake free again in a few moments. His voice is soft and filled with adoration as he asks, “What are you coloring, baby?”

It takes a moment, but Claire finally looks up with wide eyes and gives Steve a smile that is identical to yours. His heart bursts again.

Claire begins explaining her picture, pointing out each part as she does. She’s still learning how to talk, and though Steve can interpret her toddler gibberish better than anyone else, he only catches half the words. Still, he nods thoughtfully, as though he fully understands her, “Wow, lovey, you’re doing such a good job. It’s such a pretty picture.”

She beams at him again, and points at the paper on the table in front of Steve, crayon still in her hand, “Dada draw.”

“Oh, you want daddy to draw another picture?”

“Mhm,” she nods, jabbing her finger at the paper again, “Mama an’ Dada an’ Claire.”

“That’s what you want me to draw?” When she nods again, Steve can’t help but give in, even though his drawing skills aren’t great.

Once she sees that he’s drawing what she asked for, Claire turns back to her own paper with a green crayon this time, scribbling right over the purple. Steve’s a bit more careful as he draws three stick figures on the blank piece of paper, one with your hair, one with his hair and glasses, and a dress and pigtails on the smallest figure. Holding the picture up for her to see, he asks, “How’s this, lovey?”

“Good!”

“Do you think Mama will like our pictures?”

“Mhm!” she babbles on a little longer, saying something about the fridge, and Steve realizes that she wants her picture hung up on the fridge, next to the other three million pictures already there. Not that he would ever complain about her adorable drawings.

“I bet if you showed Mama your picture, she’d hang it up on the fridge, Claire bear,” Steve says, taking a different crayon to quickly write a small note on the paper he’d drawn on. Folding the paper in half, Steve hands it to his little girl and points to the kitchen, “Will you take this one to Mama, too, peanut?”

The unmistakable sound of clumsy toddler footsteps approach the kitchen and you turn away from the stove just in time to see Claire burst into the kitchen. She grins at the sight of you, throwing her arms in the air so you can pick her up, “Mama!”

“Hey, sweetheart!” you bend down to scoop her up into your arms, pulling her up to your hip, “Were you and Daddy coloring together?”

Instead of answering, she shoves her drawing into your face, eagerly awaiting your praise, which you quickly give to her after glancing at the mess of color, “Oh, it’s beautiful, baby! You’re so good at coloring.” You punctuate your sentence with a kiss to her cheek. “What’s the other paper you got there, baby?”

“Dada,” she says, holding the paper out for you to take before squirming in your arms.

You set her back on the floor before you can unfold the paper, and watch her dart back out to the living room. When she disappears from the kitchen, you hang up the drawing she’d given you, and unfold the one from your husband. Inside, next to the drawing he’d done is a small note written in crayon. Steve’s already messy handwriting is even harder to read in the thick crayon, but you manage to make out what it says.

It’s his cheesiest nickname for you, followed by an equally cheesy proclamation of love that ends with ‘I love our life together. Love you to the moon and back, honey. Steve’ He’d even drawn a messy heart next to his name.

His drawing and note goes on the fridge front and center right next to Claire’s.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #dad!steve #dad!steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington blurb #blurbs #my blurbs #steve blurbs #vday sleepover!!

[harringtonswriting]

slowly intertwining fingers while the other is driving with rooster because he is SO a holding hands while driving kinda guy i know it in my heart and soul. thank u so much my dear bree!!! <33

Kait my love!! god you are SO right and you should say it louder bc rooster is absolutely a holding hands while driving guy <3 i feel like he just loves skin to skin contact you know? always gotta be holding his love <3 i am so sorry it took so long, but i hope you like it!

...

Sometimes, on the hard days, Bradley will ask you to drive around with him in the Bronco. He never has a destination in mind, just wanting to spend some time with the windows down and the radio on as the two of you drive aimlessly around Fightertown, or along the coast, or even into the city. Wherever the wind and the roads might take him. There was one time the two of you had ended up in Long Beach because you’d accidentally fallen asleep and Bradley had decided to follow the coastline until you woke up. You’d had a good time, of course, once you’d woken up, but that was the furthest you’d ever gone when he needed to work the next morning.

Bradley never tells you what causes the hard days, at least not right away, but you know today is a particularly bad one when he’s completely silent as he comes through the front door. Normally he tries to at least make some noise, banging his boots against the front mat or dropping his bag on the floor to make sure you knew he was there. But the complete silence, even with opening and closing the door, means today is a particularly rough one.

You’re worried, of course you’re worried, but you give him some space and let him come to you. You’ve learned during the time you’ve been dating him that trying to confront him before he’s ready–even if you’re not confronting him you know Bradley will still most likely see it that way–never ends well for either of you. So you listen to him head from the front door to the kitchen, and then up the stairs, and then the sounds of doors being open and shut.

Bradley’s changed into a t-shirt and jeans as he walks into the living room where you’re lounging on the couch, ones you’d washed earlier that day and laid out on your bed for him to change into after work. His aviators are tucked against the collar of his shirt, and he’s got two sweatshirts in his hand as he comes over to press a kiss to the top of your head. It lingers longer than normal, and you reach a hand up to cup his cheek before he moves away.

“Come for a drive with me?” he asks, voice even and lacking his normal warmth. You nod, getting up off the couch and taking the sweatshirts from him as the two of you gather your things and head out the door to the Bronco. Bradley peels out of the driveway almost as soon as your seatbelt clicks into place, slipping his sunglasses on and turning the radio on with the volume down low as he starts to drive.

His right hand is resting on the gear shift, fingers tapping out a staccato rhythm against the kitschy eight ball that he’d told you Natasha had given him as a joke once upon a time. You don’t mention how twitchy his hands are or the hard set of his jaw, but you do rest your hand on top of his where it’s palming the gear shift.

Bradley’s fingers stop tapping almost immediately, the muscles relaxing under your hand.

I’m here. I love you. It’s okay.

You don’t say the words out loud, but as you swipe your thumb along the back of his hand, you let your actions speak for you. You interlock your fingers with his but leave them where they are. Feeling the warmth of his larger, calloused hand holding yours is calming for you, and you hope it is for him right now. He normally finds any excuse he can to hold your hand in his, though normally he liked when he could hold your hand and press it to your thigh–he never even tried to be subtle about it.

But tonight, it’s more for his comfort than it is his love of your body. Bradley brings your entwined hands up to his mouth, and you feel his lips press a soft kiss to the back of your hand. His mustache scratches against your skin, but the sensation is a welcome one, a familiar comfort. It’s his answer, without words, letting you know he’s grateful you’re here. He squeezes once, twice, three times in succession, lingering kisses on each knuckle as he keeps his eyes on the road.

Bradley will talk when he’s ready. Maybe that’ll be in a few hours; maybe it won’t be for a few days. But you’re glad you’re here with him, that you’re in his Bronco with the windows rolled down and the evening air blowing cool across your skin, existing with Bradley through the good and the bad. You’ll always be here for him, and by the way he’s moved your hand to cradle it to his chest as best he can, you’re sure he knows it, too.

#top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #kait 🌼

[ashiqui]

today, i want to live.

ellen bass, the thing is / you won’t be alone (2022), dir. goran stolevski (x) / kait rokowski, a good day / @alecstasy (x) / mary oliver, spring / joseph lorusso / hernan bas, the start of something new / marie howe, what the living do / andrea gibson, birthday  / @helenfrankenthaler / jan pieter foppen, blue kitchen / e.e. cummings, etcetera / @wealthy.loser on ig (x) / ocean vuong, on earth we're briefly gorgeous / @oamul (x) / @oamul (x) / l.m. montgomery, anne of green gables / @seizethehistory (x) / john singer sargent, the black brook / ask polly: 19/10/2013 / malcolm liepke, in her arms / mary oliver, invitation / ellen bass, the thing is

#aisha tag #useraish #this was made wholly with aish in mind because i love her #parallels #web weaving #word collage #webs #on living #on life #on wanting to live #words #poetry #quotes #poems #compilation #*

[stevebabey]

ruby hi!!! massive congrats on your milestone, i can't think of anyone more deserving of love than you my dear <33 i'm loving the sights and scenes of hawkins so far, may i request a trip down to lover's lake ❤️‍🔥 "i've had a terrible day at work so just kiss me" from list five with mr loverboy steve harrington? thank you so much love uu and congrats again!!

KAIT HI!!!!! i'm so glad ur enjoying hawkins m'dear and lover's lake with mr. steve harrington? that one's a dreamboat you're a lucky lady hehe <3 thank u thank u im literally giving u a big KISS rn ur so nice to me- i really hope u like this ! i manipulated the prompt a bit & omg accidentally used loverboy u got into my head this so is written for u

Robin's been keeping count of how many times Keith will ask Steve, in a single shift, to re-organise the front display due to inadequacy. That's the word Keith uses. Says it in that terrible drawl in his throat and with those lifeless eyes that don't seem to care when Steve's eye twitches after he's been asked for the third time.

Steve seriously thinks about kicking the entire display to shit.

He nearly does, just to stick it to Keith and permanently his cheeto-dusted fingertips and greasy mop for hair. God, Keith brings out the worst in him. Steve's honestly just stalling at this point, considering he's got about 15 minutes left of this shift. He busies his hands. Doesn't give the perpetually lurking Keith a chance to drag him into some other mindless job.

The 15 minutes crawl by. He's shrugging off his vest 2 mins out, specifically avoiding Keith's gaze as he maneuvers into the break room quickly.

"You're not finished yet, Harrington!" Keith's grating voice follows him in. Steve doesn't let it phase him, gathering his personal items from the employee room without a pause. He can sense Keith behind him in the doorway like a fucking vampire, some villainous presence hovering nearby.

"I could write you up for that, you know that." A crispy crunch. He's still snacking, even as he berates Steve in that bored tone; Steve wonders if today's the day to pick this fight with him. Really considers it. He ends up just clenching his jaw and watching the clock as it ticks over into sweet, sweet free time.

"Sure, Keith. Whatever you say." He grinds out, not even attempting pleasantries. There's a tight smile on his face but it might be a grimace for all Steve cares. He pushes past him and heads for the door.

"Hey Buckley," There it is again, that drawl that drives Steve nuts. "Can you check the front display? Undoubtedly, your Neanderthal friend will have found a way to mess it up and I'm not staying behind to fix it again."

Steve doesn't need to know what Neanderthal means to know when someone's calling him an idiot. He catches the start of Robin's furious glare, whipping towards her manager, but it disappears from view as he pushes out the door. Too hard. It slams against its hinges with a bang.

The steps rush up to meet his feet as he dashes down them. It's all muscle memory, opening the car door, turning the ignition, reversing out of the Family Video parking lot. The road gets swallowed beneath the car as he drives, a titch too fast than the speed limit warrants. Doesn't matter, Steve knows there's a remedy for his bad mood waiting at home.

You're in the kitchen when he gets in the door. He can tell from your shoes, left strewn halfway across the hall and outside the door to the kitchen, like you'd remembered to take them off at the last second. He toes them to the side with a small smile.

You must be in the middle of fixing a cup of something as there's something in your hand that tinks! gently, a teaspoon against porcelain.

Steve leans against the door frame and drinks his fill of love. Watching you be content as ever in his home, haloed in the setting sunlight through the windows, is a special sort of soothe on his soul. He's not sure he'll ever get used to it; or that he wants to.

Steve takes a breath in, thinks back to when you said love? well, love smells like your shampoo to me once, and thinks now that love must smell like the hot chocolate cradled in your hands. Love smells like you in the kitchen, waiting for him to come home.

You turn, catching sight of him. "Steve!"

His chest turns that bit lighter at your excited voice. He smiles and it comes easy. "Hi, sweetheart."

You cross the room to him, abandoning your steaming mug and Steve's arms are already open by the time you reach him. You slide up onto your toes, arms circling his neck, and you're pleasantly surprised when Steve ducks down and buries himself in your neck, his arms around your waist.

"Missed you," He mumbles and releases a sigh. His arms tighten, pulling you closer.

"Missed you too, Steve." You tell him truthfully, running your hand over the back of his head soothingly. You're like a balm to scorched skin, any fleeting bad feelings scampering at your reassuring touches. "Everything okay?"

Steve dredges his head out of his hiding place, staying close. His nose nuzzles against the length of your own, his eyes tired and affectionate.

"Mm." is the non-committal answer he gives you. He presses forward, lips seeking yours but you dodge them and give him a little frown.

"Everything okay?" You check, repeating the question. Steve can't be mad at your insistence, even though you're depriving him of kisses at the current moment. His thumb swipes along your ribcage impatiently.

"I've just... had a terrible day at work," he admits with a sigh. "So, just kiss me? Please."

And how could deny such a sweet request like that? Not when he sounds like your kisses could cure all his ails, could make any bad day a good one.

"Of course, loverboy," you breathe with a grin, eyes searching his face for the usual blush that arises at the pet name. He doesn't disappoint. Cheeks pink and lips even pinker, you tighten your arms around his neck and kiss him warmly. Steve gleefully tastes chocolate on your lips.

"Any time," you murmur when you pull back, and you mean it. Steve takes you up on that without a moment's hesitation.

join the celebration!

#LOVERBOY STEVE HARRINGTON THE MAN THAT U ARE #this had more plot than soft im sorry #but no im not my goal with these blurbs is to GO with the first idea i have #but i would give him so many kisses to make him feel better #thank u kait for sending one in!!!!! #MWAH MWAH MWAH BABEY I LOVE YA #ruby writes steve #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurb #stevie blurb! #ruby's very own tour of hawkins #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #now its beddie byes bruv #i've got work tomorrow earlyyyyy

[vox-ex]

between the lines

that's all done for supercorptober 2023!

you can find them here on Ao3 too if you would like :)

----

day 1 - wild

"You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves." - Mary Oliver

day 2 - romance

"we melt into each other with phrases. We are edged with mist. We make an unsubstantial territory." - Virgina Woolf

day 3 - Kara

"The shortest poem is a name.” —Anne Michaels

day 4 - money

"Every moment happens twice." ― Zadie Smith

day 5 - maroon

"nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red." -Kait Rokowski

day 6 - write

“Let us turn over the pages, and I will add, for your amusement, a comment in the margin.” - Virginia Woolf

day 7 - love

"I love you so much I’ll never be able to tell you" - Dylan Thomas

days 8 and 9 - vigilante + breakfast

"You can put your strength down. I’m sitting here with you at your kitchen table. You don’t need to say anything." - Eden Robinson

days 10+11 - twilight + earth

“I had forgotten how much light there is in the world, till you gave it back to me.” - Ursula K. Le Guin

day 12 - desk

“People are a lot more knowable than they think they are.”  ― Sally Rooney

days 13 + 14 - spice + midnight

“you owe me sleep, so much sleep.” c.c. aurel

day 15 - game

“There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.” ― Albert Camus

days 16 - heist

I′ve waited ‘til the moment’s right To look into those starry eyes And say the words That I′m thinking all the time - The Hunts, I Do

day 17 - music

Shut up behind my rib cage, my warm heart expands and contracts independent of my will–over and over.” - Murakami

days 18 + 19 - Lena + hazy

“The shortest poem is a name.” — Anne Michaels

days 20 + 21 - control + lavender

“…and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.” ― Richard Sikenh sleep.”

day 22 - art

“what does it all come down to? love? Love” ee cummings

days 23 + 24 - morning + enchanted

"you are full of cloudy subtleties I am willing to spend a lifetime figuring out." - Kafka

day 25 - cottage

I don’t want to lose a single thread from the intricate brocade of this happiness

-Mary Oliver

day 26 + 27 - cardigan+dinner

“We're each of us alone, to be sure. What can you do but hold your hand out in the dark?” - Ursula K. Le Guin

days 28 + 29 - season + stars

“Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I'm gazing at a distant star." ― Haruki Murakami

days 30 + 31 - magic + spookycorp

“Time expands, then contracts, all in tune with the stirrings of the heart.” ― Haruki Murakami

----

You all are the best...thank you so much for following along... and thank you to all the creators this month please continue to check out their work...I know I have a lot catch up on too.

also also thank you to @kmsdraws for the prompts!

#supergirl #supercorp #supercorptober #supercoptober2023 #did I cheat a little by combining some days...maybe #but I may try to make up for my taking some prompt requests in Nov and Dec so stay tuned ahah

[stvharrngton]

hi kyrie, congrats on 1k!! i hope i'm not too late to send something in, but may i please request 💌: steve + 91 (kisses shared under an umbrella) from list 2? thank you so much <333

kait!! not too late but i’m sorry i took forever to get this posted 😭 thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy! <3 @katsu28

pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

word count: 1k

warnings: none, fluffy boyfriend steeb

prompt: kisses shared under an umbrella

taglist: @sweetiestevie @dukesmebby @sw34terw34ther @sweetbabygirlsworld

1k celebration

The evening spring air was hot and sticky against your skin, your bare arms brushing against Steve’s with every step that you walked, your denim shorts high on your waist.

You two were a picture. Your hair thrown up into a bun that was definitely lopsided on your head, a pair of odd socks donning your feet. Steve with his signature Ray-Bans perched on the bridge of his nose even though the sun had moved behind the clouds hours ago.

He’d insisted that you’d been cooped up in your apartment for too long, either of you only ever leaving the comfort of your home for work. “Fresh air will be good for us.” He’d said.

You’d rolled your eyes at him, even though he was right, Steve was always right, but a pout fell to your lips when you re-emerged to see his car keys were still slung on the kitchen counter.

Apparently your idea of fresh air was different to his. You wanted to go for a drive, feel the wind blistering through your hair as the radio played throughout the trusty BMW. Steve’s hand resting on your thigh as he navigated the winding roads beyond Hawkins.

“We’re going for a walk, come on, baby,” he’d said with a chuckle, lacing his fingers between yours to pull you into him closer, “stop pouting.” Steve spoke against your lips with a gentle kiss.

You didn’t have an end destination, you just headed wherever your footsteps took you. Hand in hand and Steve was beaming from ear to ear. Something about you, about being with you, made him giddy. The way your hand felt in his, how warm your skin felt, the way your cheeks turned rosy from the warm air.

All of it just felt perfect. Like home.

Steve would always cherish moments like these, he was sure you did too. Between all the doom and gloom and interdimensional monsters lurking in Hawkins you still had each other. And Hell, that was enough. It would always be enough.

As he got lost in his thoughts in a sea of you, he almost didn’t realise you’d stopped walking. Brows pinched together with that damn pout on your lips again, fingers tugging on his own.

“Was that thunder?” You gawped, voice a little shaky as the clouds darkened quickly.

“What? No, come on, you’re hearing things.” Steve teased, chuckling to himself as he tried to get you walking again, arm slung around your shoulders to get you moving.

The sky rumbled again, a little louder this time as it rang throughout Steve’s ears. His grin downturning into a thin line as he turned to look at you.

“Shit.” He mumbled.

“So you don’t think I’m crazy now, hotshot?” You jibed with a jab to the boy’s chest.

Both your eyes brimmed wide with panic as the sprinkling of rain began to fall from the clouds, only doomed to fall harder as the seconds passed by. You were already hot and sticky, you could do without adding soggy to that list.

Steve wrapped his fingers around your wrist as he dragged you into the convenience store on the other side of the road. You narrowly missed the downpour by a beat, your sneakers squeaking against the tiled floor of the store.

“Let’s just wait it out in here for a minute.” Steve said quietly, fingers carding through his hair as he ushered you through with a hand at the small of your back.

You gnawed on your bottom lip as you watched the rain thrash against the large windows, brows knitting together as you spoke, “I don’t think it’s stopping anytime soon, Stevie.”

Steve pulled you into his side with his arm around your shoulders, his lips pressed to your temple as he nosed at your hairline. He hummed softly at your thought until his eyes fell on the rack of umbrellas in the corner of the aisle.

“I have an idea,” he said with a grin, “umbrella?”

He picked up one from the rack, a simple black thing with pink hearts splattered all over. You nodded with a giggle as you followed him to the cash register, hand tucked into the back pocket of his Levi’s.

“You’re not getting one for you, Stevie?” you asked as you leaned into the boy’s side.

“We can share, it’ll be romantic.” Steve hushed you with a wiggle of his eyebrows, fishing out his wallet to pay for your new umbrella.

“Steve,” you said with a giggle, “you’re like two feet taller than me.”

Okay, you were exaggerating just a little but Steve brushed you off either way. Insisting that he ‘could keep you dry, baby’, a statement he said in that voice that was usually reserved for the bedroom.

Steve Harrington was an idiot, but he was your idiot.

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend as he ushered you back out to the front of the store. The rain still thrashing the ground in an assault, you huddled shoulder to shoulder underneath the small ledge out front.

You snatched the umbrella from Steve’s hands as you felt the rain splatter at your feet, cold droplets sprinkling against your shins. You held the umbrella over you both as Steve peered down at you with a dopey grin on his face.

“‘M sorry I brought you out in the rain, sweetheart.” He spoke softly, you could barely hear him over the rain, his hand reaching to cup your cheek.

“S’fine, but I gotta ask,” you began, your free hand pressed against Steve’s firm chest, “where’s the romance you promised, loverboy?”

Steve chuckled lightly, pulling you into him and out from under the ledge with a grip to your waist. Both of his hands found your face, thumbs brushing over the apple of your cheeks as he pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was sticky sweet, dripping with saccharine. Steve’s plush lips soft against your own, as you melted into him, his kiss, his touch. You felt him smile against your lips as he pulled away, your mouth chasing his as he came to rest his forehead on yours.

“Don’t get greedy now, pretty girl, there’s more where that came from at home.”

Umbrella and rain be damned, you were dragging Steve back to the comfort of your home as fast as your feet would carry you.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fluff #stranger things fanfiction #kait💜 #request #k.fic #stvharrngton1k #i love this prompt and i had SO many ideas i couldn’t choose. and not sure i like this but 😭

[indouloureux]

hi augustine!! how are you?

i just read joseph's interview with esquire singapore where he said he's a decent cook. would you be able to write a blurb or one shot about coming home from a tiring day to see that joseph has made a meal for you please? i feel like he would be sooo eager and cute about it!

thank you so much, and absolutely no worries if not! have a wonderful day/night <3

kait!!! thank you so much for requesting ily!!! (thinking of @mysticmunson's pesto that she sent me so i put it in here)

from work's dereliction, your feet ache from walking around all day. you hope the somewhat slam of the door don't give out the fact that you're tired.

the baritone dulcet humming shoos your exhaustion away into a corner; and delectable aroma fills your sniffing your nose. you toe your shoes off and place it aside, right next to his. your socked feet are futile at its attempt to protect your soles from the cold floor but you could care less.

you prance tiredly toward the kitchen. the light bass of the bluetooth speaker sits dangerously at the edge of the kitchen island. somehow, there are three different kinds of chopping boards and two knives scattered across that island, an empty bowl with specks of what seems like cheese but you don't know which.

regardless of that mess, the sight of him humming and swaying with an apron around his waist is a voluptuary vision of utter domesticity that whispers savage remarks to all the problems that haunt you.

you take your coat off and fold it somewhere. his arm moves in a struggled spiral as he mixes whatever's in the stygian wok.

you decide to surprise him. you tiptoe your way towards joseph, who hums lowly, and when you slowly wrap your hands around his torso, maybe you should have expected that he'd be startled.

"fucking hell!" the tongs clatter on the pan loudly. you squeal, hands shooting to cover your mouth. he puts his hand over his heart and heaves from the frighten. he's less than amused when you start giggling.

"oh, yeah, it's so funny giving your boyfriend a heart attack," he seethes blithely at you. "yeah, yeah. so funny. i might have slammed you in this head, y'know," joseph holds the tongs up, waving it in the air. "'s not funny, love."

"i know, i'm sorry," you hide your smile. suddenly he misses it and he pulls down at your hand and tucks it with his, turning the stove off with one hand before he turns to you. "hi,"

"hello," he murmurs, an ophidian curl draped across his forehead, damp slightly with sweat. "i made you something,"

"yeah?" you wrap your arms around his torso again, pressing your cheek on his chest. joseph turns you around 'till you're both facing the stove. "is that pesto?"

"yep. made by yours truly; not reheated." he smiles brightly into your hair, picking up a fork somewhere and jabbing it on the pale verdant pasta, sprinkled with parmesan and chicken. joseph twists the fork, your arms wrapped tightly around it still, and he brings it close to your mouth.

you take it inside, pesto on your tongue that navigates around your taste buds. the savory dish inside your mouth swims, its delicacy melts all your cramps away; the basil and cheese elucidates your cravings, and he smiles at your hum of contentment.

"is it good?"

"it's amazing," you sigh deeply, closing your eyes, head falling on his chest. "christ, what'd you put in this? jesus' sperm or what?"

joseph stabs the fork on the pan and wipes your mouth with the corner of his apron. "my sperm. kidding. god that was gross. i made it from scratch."

"this is amazing," you say again, reaching out to shove some of it more into your mouth. "fuck. so good."

"you don't sound this blissed out when we have sex," he jokes. "okay i'm gonna stop now,"

it's a futile attempt to hide his pride; he's glad to have satisfied you. being able to please your palate was something he's never felt more successful doing than he has been with his career in his entire life

another satisfied hum makes his heart race. "that good baby, huh?"

"super," you nibble on the tops of the fork. "can we eat more?"

joseph nods, kissing your forehead. "yeah, we can eat more."

#joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn #stranger things

[hypnoneghoul]

Kisses prompt: kitchen counter makeouts with Aether and Mountain?

right there for you, kait, hope you like it!

"Whatcha doin' here, Mount?" Aether asked slurring, barely even awake.

"Hi, honey," the earth ghoul purred as he turned around, arms already open and a huge smile on his handsome face. Aether just dropped deadweight into Mountain's arms, letting out a groan as the other chuckled.

Aether did not like mornings.

But he liked Mountain, a lot, and morning Mountain was one of his favourite versions of him, actually. That's the only reason for why he always got up way earlier than it was needed, or that he'd like, but don't tell Mountain that.

"Come on up, love," the earth ghoul murmured into Aether's hair, hoisting him up. "Sit on the counter, I gotta finish making breakfast, yeah?"

"Mhmmm," the other hummed as he did as he was told. Aether leaned back, resting his head against a cabinet as he tried his very best to no let his eyes slip closed so he could watch his lover.

He was, apparently, unsuccessful, as the next thing he really remembers is Mountain being in front of him, so very close, and peppering his face with kisses, the earth ghoul's morning stubble scratching his cheeks, "There you go! Sleeping beauty."

"Mhm..." Aether couldn't and didn't want to try hard enough to get something more coherent than this out. Mountain just chuckled, settling in between his legs. He wrapped his arms around the quintessence ghoul's shoulders as he did the same with Mountain's waist.

In this position there wasn't much to do apart from kissing the breath out of the other's lungs, so that's exactly what they did.

At first Mountain pressed his lips to Aether's softly, gently asking for permission, for them to part, to let him in. However, the quintessence ghoul was still too tired to think, especially with such a lovely addition, so it very quickly turned sloppy and uncoordinated.

When the ghouls inevitably had to part for breath, they also breathed out giggles, only looking down at their spit soaked chins and kiss bruised lips after staring into each others eyes for a unreasonable amount of time.

Poor Sunshine was the one to find them, always one of the first ghouls to be up. By the time she did Aether was barely sat on the counter anymore, Mountain had one of his long legs bent with a knee on the edge of it as they were shamelessly grinding their crotches together. One of the earth ghoul's arms was tightly wrapped around Aether's neck, the other hand propped against the wall behind them. Aether's own hands were under Mountain's shirt, moving up and down his bony back.

"I came here for breakfast not porn!" Sunshine yelled, though she was being dramatic, the playful tone in her voice giving it out. She couldn't lie that her own cock did twitch in interest at the sight she was met up with in the kitchen.

"Uhm... should be ready soon, come back in five," Mountain grumbled as he pulled away from Aether again. Sunshine scoffed, smiling, and turned on her heel.

Just as she stepped outside she heard some giggles and more of that filthy but adorable sound of idiots in love sloppily kissing.

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #fluff #fanfiction #aether ghoul #mountain ghoul

[magadauthan]

Ep8: And Between the Wasteland and Sky

Late to the @trigun98watchparty. Better late than never.

Someone else said that the sand steamer arc is what they have to get through to get to the part where Wolfwood arrives. Can't disagree. But still, we get some background and character building.

"Aw, man! Death and Poverty like me so much, they brought friends!

Not to mention the Insurance Girls!" --Vash the Stampede

--Vash might be emotional, but he's no pushover, either. He tells Kaite to compartmentalize and start thinking of a way out. He's had to do the same, constantly. Survive now, cry later.

--How old is Kaite, exactly? How did he get all this expertise fixed in his head before his voice has changed? My son is 13 and still doesn't know where to find a fork in the kitchen.

--The pen-and-earring combo never makes another appearance.

--a pen, wtf? who are you, Sailor Moon?

--First large-scale demonstration that Vash will mess his opponents up good but won't kill them, no matter what it costs him, and no matter how wounded he is in the process. Strong foreshadowing at the unstoppable force later seen in "Diablo."

--Either Vash is really good at dodging, or the Bad Lands Gangsters have worse aim than Imperial stormtroopers.

--Is Meryl really "Derringer Meryl" before this episode? Or is she good at reading the room and giving herself a little "sparkle" for BDN?

--Milly is having the best time over these first couple eps, isn't she. "Senpai is 'Derringer Meryl?' That makes me 'Stungun Milly!" This is awesome!"

--Meanwhile, Meryl's trying to fit things in boxes, and it's not working out.

--BDN, the semi-honorable thief. More interested in a good story than in mass murder. Reincarnated as Gasback.

--First actual appearance of Rem, with exposition of her philosophy. Kind of awkward in the middle of a twelve-minute ticking clock, but gotta wedge it in there, I guess?

--On that note, if any version of "Sound Life" makes it into Tristamp, it has to scan better. It's so awkward in English.

#tri98watchparty #trigun 98 #vash the stampede #meryl stryfe #milly thompson #ep 08: and between the wasteland and sky

[readyforthegarden]

Hey Kait… I love you, I really do…

Soft Jake is killing me… and in turn, your soft Jake thoughts are killings me…

I’m definitely not supposed to be writing a Danny fic rn or anything…

Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake 😩😩😩

Hannah I can’t stop now I’m thinking of having a really rough day and Jake washed the bedding and made the bed like new and so it’s all comfy cozy and he’s ran a bath and he made your favorite pasta and he sits in the bathroom while you’re in the bath, eating dinner with you. You feel silly eating dinner in the bathroom but he promises he cleaned it thoroughly that day and it’s barely any different than drinking wine while you’re in the bath.

Once you’re done he takes everything to the kitchen while you get dressed in pjs (one of his old worn shirts and a pair of his boxers because he thinks you look so cute in his clothes) and head directly to bed, like he told you to. He has your water bottle filled and ready to go, your book or e-reader on the bed next to a small tray of desserty items.

“Just wanted you to know I love you, and you deserve to relax.” Jake mumbles as he wraps his arms around you from behind. Maybe he kisses your neck and shoulder a little bit, just to emphasize his feelings. “Go get comfy.” He gives you butt a firm pat and you scamper to get into bed, him climbing in next to you and picking up his own book, grabbing a mini brownie off the tray and handing it to you before grabbing a cookie.

#my asks #capturethechaos #IM SORRY BUT IM NOOOOTTT

[marshmallowprotection]

🌺 Happy Valentine's Day, Kait^^ 🌺

Since it's the day for roses; I was wondering if we could do a reverse of gifting roses to Saeran instead!

What do you think would be each version's reaction to receive some pretty flowers? 🥀

Ray would be... delighted if you got him some flowers. The smartest thing you could do would be to make sure his flowers are ones that're capable of being planted. He doesn't mind picking flowers, but it may mean more to him to cultivate them instead of allowing them to die in a timely fashion. He's got a collection of dried flowers in one of the notebooks that he holds onto like a lifeline. Tears would well up in his eyes... he never thought he would be gifted flowers... but now that he has... and by you?

Well, he doesn't mind the thought of being on the end of receiving a gift for once in his life. If it means your wide smile grows when you're with him... he'll drown in a sea of roses.

Suit Saeran would stare at your flowers as if they were going to jump out and bite him. He isn't afraid of them, but you know that flattery is not going to get you anywhere with him. He destroyed Ray's flowers in a fit of rage, so giving him more flowers isn't going to do much to make things better for him. He would toss your flowers on the ground without thinking twice, warning you that he won't fall for a trap like an airhead would. It might leave you crying and hopeless, but if you can count on anything, it's the fact that he pocketed a single petal to take with him.

He doesn't understand why he did that. But, it's like a lifeline for him for whatever reason. You confuse and confound him... he needs to be better than Ray was... he can't be sentimental over these stupid little things... it's nothing.

GE Saeran is over the moon. Listen, his love language is to change the flowers in your room every day. If something wilts, he returns it to the garden so it can help other flowers grow. If something has some spark to it, he'll press it as a reminder. So, needless to say, there is so much love shared between you two with flowers. He isn't surprised by your act, no, he wraps his arms around you and chuckles, quickly naming the flower and the intended purpose.

You can try to stump him with flowers if you want. Make a game of trying to find a flower he doesn't know... that he hasn't seen before... see him narrow his brows in thought before he kisses you, letting you know he loves this game.

Unknown doesn't know why you bothered picking a single flower from the garden. He doesn't allow you out of the workroom for very long... you're just allowed to grab meals from the kitchen and that's that. The attached room to his space works to have everything else you would ever need. It would sit on his desk in front of him in a way that makes him distracted at the worst time. He doesn't shove it into your hands to return it, but... it sits there.

It sits there like it's mocking him with the reality given to him. If he left this flower here... it'd die... just like how he feels like he's going to die if he doesn't feel the taste of his revenge. This flower feels like a joke... yet, it came from your hand. You probably gave it to him as a way of saying that he needed to get out more... but everything else chews at him.

SE Saeran doesn't voice his thoughts about nature often. He isn't as lost in his thoughts in a garden as he once was. Now he spends a lot of his time just laying in the grass underneath a shady tree, but that doesn't mean he doesn't remember his friendship with the flowers as a child. The memory is faint... lost to him in some ways, but not all of it is gone. The comfort he felt is there. So, if you try to bring him any flowers... the best way to do it is to find one that can spark some of his missing memories... what was the first flower he spoke to when he was a child?

If you can find that... if you can bring that whimsy back to his heart in some way, he won't be able to hide that tiny smile of his. It exists for you... the one person he trusts more than life itself.

#jennis one shot #mystic messenger #mm #mysme #mysticmessenger #saeran #ge saeran #se saeran #saeray #saeran choi #suit saeran #choi saeran #ray choi #choi ray #unknown